#the Fortnight video is so fucking special to me

[awesomewithoutme]

Watch "Taylor Swift - Fortnight (feat. Post Malone) (Behind the Scenes)" on YouTube

She's so pretty gosh

[jmkho]

The One Where They Go To Medieval Times

Summary: The boys go to Medieval Times LOL

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: swearing, light up cocktails, swords, mentions of execution, HUZZAH, turkey legs, flashing jitties, lack of mede

Notes: This has been in draft hell for a LONG ASS TIME I just haven’t had it in me to finish it until I saw MTM video and thought okay now is time lmao

Special thanks to @oliverreedmasterass for letting me bounce off ideas and helping me with this!

————————————————————————

The boys stood at the bar before entering the arena. Jake had begged and begged the rest of them to book a dinner at the nearest Medieval Times. At first they all refused.

“I’m not going there to watch people pretend to joust.” Sam commented.

“There’s horses, food, music, fighting! What more could you want?” Jake replied

Danny looked at Sam who was still standing there shaking his head. Danny sighed before saying, “There’s a bar.”

“Let’s go!”

And that was that.

They decided to try and dress for the occasion. And by dress, they tried to fit a sort of theme. But they were all wearing completely different themed outfits.

Jake was wearing his pirate gear again since, hey, it was SORT of medieval looking. But also brought along his sword. Which he gladly buckled into the passenger seat of his car, making everyone else cram in at the back. He was told by the boys it wouldn’t get past the front door, but he was determined.

Danny thought he would wear his black cloak and pressed pants from the Starcatcher promo shoot. Now he felt out of place with the rest of them and felt like a lost wizard.

Josh decided to wear one of his show suits with his gold frilly cloak, but with a bright yellow and red jester hat he found stuffed in the back of his closet. The bells rang whenever he moved his head or walked. “This is just ME, RIGHT?” he said as he spun around.

And then Sam was way off theme. He was wearing his red shorts and a tie dye shirt. Complete with a pair of Birkenstocks and a fanny pack. His sunglasses were placed on his head as he looked around the venue. “A bit empty isn't it?”

No one said anything as they stood and ordered their drinks. Jake ordered a double rum and coke, specifically saying rum in the same way as his favourite Disney Pirate.

Danny ordered two beers and a shot of vodka to try and forget about how he felt.

Sam asked for mede but the bartender told him they didn’t serve it. To which Sam then went on a rant about the fact a place called Medieval Times didn’t serve mede. He then ordered a beer and a cocktail with a fancy light up glass and curly straw.

The bartender gave him an extra shot for the lack of mede.

Josh was shaking. He had his speech already set in his head, thanks to watching The Cable Guy numerous times, he had it memorized the fuck down.

“And what can I ge-”

“Dos this have thou a mug of ale for me and me mate? For he hath been pitched in battle for a fortnight and has the king’s thirst for the frosty brew dos thou might have for thus!” Josh let out, with a wide grin.

Nailed it. He thought.

The barman just stood there with a face void of emotion.

“He’ll have a salty dog and a beer please.” Jake leaned in and ordered.

Once they got their drinks, the mood was light, happy, and ready for blood. They walked through the doors to the main arena and found their table.

Josh sat on the end followed by Danny, Sam, and then Jake and sword.

"Okay so we cheer for our knight to kill the other right?" Sam asked as he sat down watching the pre-show.

“Pretty much” Danny answered. His interest in the show perked up when he spotted a knight throwing roses into the crowd.

“I want a rose!” He suddenly declared making everyone look at him then the knight.

Sam laughed. “You aint gonna get one sat there staring, do something!”

Danny quickly looked at his friend, “Like what?”

The bassist shrugged. “Flip him off?”

Danny went to say something to that until Josh shouted, “FLASH HIM!”

Josh jumped up and waved his arms about to get the knight's attention, finally the man looked at him. Josh pulled his velvet suit to the side and flashed one nipple at him with a big grin. Danny watched amazed and in horror as Josh stood there with one jitty out before putting his suit back into place.

A rose suddenly nearly hit the singer in the face as he caught it, getting a round of applause from everyone else sat down around them. Josh bowed with a giggle and passed the rose to Danny, “Flashing resolves everything.”

Jake let out a loud laugh and randomly shouted “Huzzah!” Which started a whole chorus of people joining in with him yelling it back. He went to lift his sword in the air but Danny quickly told him not to.

“Alright boys, here we go.” The waiter came up to their tables and began to place cutlery down. “You’re on the white knight side. Red knight is your ally, so cheer for white and red. The blue knight is your mortal enemy, yell and boo for his demise and for the fall of him and the yellow knight.” His tone gave off a sort of, ‘I’ve said this so many times that the excitement has long gone.’

The boys all listened but then just started booing the announcer that had now taken centre stage in the sand pit.

“Lords, your dinner will be served in 10 minutes and there’s a vegetarian meal requested as well right?” He asked.

The guys all confirmed their order followed by a very loud ‘HUZZAH!” From Jake

Which again, made everyone else around them join in.

The horse show began. 3 horses took stage and did some tricks and different styles in a sort equestria type show. Jake sat there nodding his head. Oh fuck yeah he was in his element right now. They needed to make a place similar to this but with pirates, and there are two ships that have to battle it out over dinner, and there’s even a-

Sam sat there with a face void of emotion as he watched the horses. Fancy, he thought.

Danny was smiling at the show. He was excited to be honest and was glad Jake brought it up now, but he was still somewhat worried that Jake had somehow got his sword past security.

Josh’s hat jingled away as he kept looking around the venue. He was excited, he wanted to see the dramatic theatrical work of it all. Damn, if he could he’d totally play a part in the show.

Soon, their dinner arrived. “Okay boys, we have dragon blood!” The waiter let out, pand placed a bowl of tomato soup in front of all of them. “And we have some dragon flesh, dragon's teeth, half a dragon's egg, and a special rock.” He announced as he placed the non-vegetarian meals down.

It consisted of half a cooked chicken, a corn cob, half a baked potato, and a slice of bread. The vegetarian one had less fancy names and was simply just, ‘The Royals Special Salad’

The boys tucked in using their hands. Sam sat there with a wooden fork digging into his salad as he looked around everyone else ripping their food apart.

One point Jake lifted his sword and tried to skewer his ‘dragon flesh’ chicken with it, earning a very loud scream laugh coming from the other end of the table.

“Heathens” Sam made a disgusted face.

“HUZZAH!” Jake yelled again right into his ear which was again followed by another chorus of everyone joining in.

“Will you stop ‘Huzzah-ing?!” Sam moved away from his older brother who was laughing loudly with his head thrown back.

The horse show had ended and now it was time for some jousting to take place.

Danny looked around to the families around him. They began to yell, scream, and cheer. “KILL HIM! KILLL HIIIIIIIIIM!” His mouth fell open when a child that was around 8 years old started yelling that at the top of their lungs.

“What kind of family show is-“ He stopped when Sam suddenly stood up. “WHITE KNIGHT! KILL THE DESPICABLE EXCUSE OF A HUMAN BEING, THE BLUE KNIGHT! DO YOUR DUTY! FOR YOUR KINGDOM!” He raised his flashing cocktail in the air.

People around them began to whoop, clap, and cheer harder. “I think these people actually want someone to bleed.” He laughed as he sat down.

Danny leaned over to say something to Josh but he was no longer sat there, just his jester hat in his seat. “Wait, where did Josh go?”

Sam didn’t even look over to the empty spot, just keeping his eyes on the two men who were now on their horses ready to joust. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was pumped for this. “Bathroom.” He simply replied.

The joust began and the white knight rode towards his target. The crowd on the white knight side were screaming at the top of their lungs, numerous flags and light up swords in the air.

“GO ON!!! Hit him!!!!” Sam yelled at the top of his lungs, gripping his drink.

Danny clapped and cheered to merely join in but then grimaced when the first hit happened. Nothing too bad, but the Blue knight wobbled a little and Danny downed a beer in the process. After another few jousts and hits the knights decided to battle off the horses with numerous weapons.

Everyone was losing their shit. Sam was sitting there laughing as people were screaming for the end of the blue knight. Jake was now holding his sword in the air with one foot on his chair as people chanted.

“Huzz-zah!” He chanted, throwing the sword up and down in the air which then started their side of the arena to join in.

“Ladies and Gentleman, it is time for your King to make a special appearance in preparation for the battle.”

The lights dimmed down and so did the cheers for blood as the crew quickly ran around the sandpit getting whatever was needed for the appearance of the king.

Jake has sat down by now but still held his sword in his right hand, and his drink in his left.

“Oh come on, I wanna see someone get knocked out!” Sam let out blowing air between his lips as he got fed up.

Danny laughed. “And who said they didn’t want to come to see people pretend?”

Sam glanced at him and narrowed his eyes. “Not me, certainly not I.” He took a huge gulp of his cocktail as he looked away.

Suddenly he spat out his drink. The liquid flew out of his mouth as he jolted forward in his seat in shock and started coughing. Danny looked at his friend and started patting his back.

“Dude, you okay?” He asked as Sam sat coughing manically.

“LONG LIVE THE KING!” Jake yelled at the pitch that even startled Danny which made him look towards the King.

There sat on the throne was Josh. He was now wearing a long red cape along with a golden crown on top of his head. He was also randomly holding a huge cooked turkey leg. He sat there acting like his life depended on it. A face of pure ‘Yes, I am your king, bow bitches’ His free hand giving a typical royal wave as the crowd went nuts.

Danny stood up. “JOSH! JOSH!” He yelled. Josh looked his way and just waved. Danny clapped his hands together. “PSSPSSPSSPSS JOSH GET BACK HERE!” If Sam wasn’t currently choking he would have said it looked as if he was trying to get a cat to come to him.

Josh held up a hand and the entire arena fell silent apart from Sam’s spluttering coughs.

“My dear kingdom…” He stood up and the workers surrounding him seemed to realise he was in fact not their actor who played the king and began to look around at each other. “We are all gathered to watch one perish in the bravery of battle.” He announced, putting on a little accent.

”You knights will fight with honour and strength as we cheer you on while feasting on dragons flesh and also feasting on one of your deaths.” The knights looked at each other confused.

His voice then went to his normal tone. “I mean, for a family show this really does have a lot of blood lust and violence going on I mean..” he motioned to the people with his free hand, “Everyone is so excited to watch people….b-beat each other up it’s….it’s an experience I tell ya..maybe needs more excitement am I right?” and then quickly pulled his jumpsuit to the side to flash everyone.

Danny’s head fell into his hands while Jake started laughing.

“BOOOO!” Sam quickly let out

Josh’s head quickly looked over to their direction. “Before the event shall start. By order of your King, anyone named Samuel shall be executed.” Josh declared in the most serious tone, doing a Meryl Streep level of acting.

All the workers looked at each other.

“Who is this guy?”

“Is he serious?”

“Who the fuck is Samuel?”

Sam put his sunglasses on and sunk down in his seat as Josh stared at him with the most serious face he had ever seen. But then he broke out in his wide toothy grin and normal toned voice, “Enjoy the bloodshed everybody! Have a wonderful night!”

And with that they workers quickly started to push the throne out of the arena with him still standing on it. Josh smiled at the workers joyfully and giggled before he posed dramatically as he was pushed out of sight.

The two knights stood there looking at each other and shrugged as if to say, “Okay…” before the white knight lifted his sword and tried to take down the other until he blocked the hit with his own sword.

Soon Josh came boundering back with the turkey leg and security holding onto his shoulder. “Is he with you?” Josh stood there giggling away as security walked him to his seat after Danny nodded his head.

“Guards! This is the Samuel who went against your king! Get him!” Josh let out shoving the jester hat back on and pointed to his younger brother who did everything he could to look not part of the group despite sitting in the middle of the chaos.

Security rolled their eyes but then pulled a worried look to Jake who was now standing with one foot on his chair again, sword in the air watching the show as the two knights went at it.

“Sir, how did you get tha-“ Security man no.1 began to ask Jake who quickly yelled. “Huzzah!” And bolted away from the table. The man looked at security man no.2 before they both went running off after him.

The waiter from earlier came over and began to hand out little cups of ice cream.

“You look stressed, don’t worry, tonight is actually very calm. Here you go boys, Dragon droppings! Enjoy!”

Danny looked at him in pure disbelief.

Sam and Josh began a little back and forth argument about how dare he sentence him to death. The cheek of such an order.

Before the waiter walked off, Danny smiled and motioned with his hand to get his attention over the noise of people yelling for the knight to kill, Josh and Sam arguing about betrayal, and the waiter's radio going off about, “Some crazed guy with a sword is in the gift shop.”

“Can I get 8 shots of tequila, please?”

[techforevil-er]

20/11-03/12/2022

I think the main thing I learned from doing those is that I need to write them weekly or I forget absolutely everything that happened.

Team 1 is trundling along. One of the things we want to do (migrating stuff from a fairly archaic and badly performing app to a standard format) is finally making some progress after a huge decisionmaking overhead (people were already quite impatient about it when I joined in August). Thankfully I managed to agree someone with specialism we don't have in the team to spend 3 days per week on it instead of having 3 people for a day each.

The team handed over some recommendations from a Discovery to another area. They're fairly small and process-type fixes as opposed to something more transformative, which we also can't tackle because it's in another team's remit and they have plans to work on it or commission a managed service in a quarter or few. Doesn't feel ideal to me but I don't think I'd have much success if I pushed the subject.

We had a fun away day we went to Manchester for, with a mince pie blind taste test. I need to pull together the results and publish the structured tasting sheets so other people can do it if they want haha. I've send everyone joining remotely pastries as well and I've gotta say their reviews made me really want to try the Wahaca mincepie empandas and mulled plum pastries from Brighton's Flour Pot bakeries. :P We went to an escape room whih is one of those things that are not quite the same remotely....

Team 2 ways of working are getting a bit more settled (despite - again - lack of a PM), with some refinements to Trello and hacking together an Objective -> Epic -> Card structure. Lots of engagement with other departments and private sector to improve things they've done mostly with good results.

Overall I feel like there's very little consciousness on the programme how much overhead the lack of ownership, constant handovers, and high & varied WIP bring. So far I've been escalating on behalf of my teams but maybe there's a chance of doing something more structured. I should put my thoughts in order in case my contract does not get renewed anyway.

No major revelations about coaching altho I think I'm just settling into being more empathetic and supportive with the current group. 🤦‍♀️ I want to think how I can translate this into something I can do for a living by May 2023.

Black Friday happened! Shopping:

lots of games on Steam

lots of courses (pottery and jewellery-making)

I've not played everything I bought yet but The Case of the Golden Idol (ideal for people who thought Obra Dinn was ok but a bit difficult like me, hehe) and Boyfriend Dungeon (Hades-lite) were very fun. Unpacking was fine, I guess. I appreciate the gay anyway.

The courses mostly start in January apart from the wheel throwing 1:1 which once again confirmed I have absolutely no contol over my body. The instructor did say it took her 3 months to even center well which I don't believe but I'll take. 😂 I really need to join a studio to get some independent practice time.

Food wise I finally made it to Din Tai Fung (dim sum) and Unity Diner (vegan food and cocktails/mocktails). Both well worth your money. I'll be back to Unity Diner for lunch very very soon.

I also had two proper (until closing time) pub nights in this time period which was fucking amazing, I miss this shit from before Covid. Best chats and goss in a long time.

Good vids of the last fortnight:

Bonus mention to the Defunctland Disney Channel Theme video (very similar in theme to that hbomberguy) vid, and which you should really watch to learn about Andrea Taylor (and how the thoughts of fish are planted in kids' minds well before Finding Nemo).

Next two week is pretty busy socially if nothing else (firebreak @ work, remains to be seen if I join any project.. Team 2 might carry on as usual so probably just a bit of a breather to do admin things...).

[whenjoshisjoseph]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki

Read below the cut, if you're good with an unitalicised version... Otherwise, click the link!

Also please don't die, I'm so sorry, I've never written angst

15:00, three hours after

Izuku is smiling.

It’s ironic, really; the tears don’t stop, but neither does his expression falter. The corners of his mouth are titled up, yes, he’s smiling, but he tastes salt, too, bitter against his tongue.

Bitterer still is the feel of the words in his mouth.

“I am honoured to accept the position,” he repeats. “Honoured, thank you. It is such an honour, I cannot express my gratitude. Many thanks-”

He’s a broken record, the lines he should say stuck in his throat, the emotion he should have numb in his chest. For all his morbid imaginings, he never thought it would end so...anti-climatically. So ordinarily. The role is passed on from one person to the next, as uneventfully as it should be. Izuku has received a promotion, and that is it.

12:00, one day after

He keeps staring at the phone.

Izuku can just about see the nondescript object if he peeks over the stack of paperwork. A slight exaggeration, perhaps, but the workload is heavy nonetheless. Time doesn’t stop for Izuku, wouldn’t have stopped even if he’d taken the week they’d offered to him to ‘process things’. But what is there to process?

He’s gotten a promotion; it’s nothing special.

Izuku needs to get on with it.

00:00, two days after

The noise is abhorrent, unbearable, but he screams again, choked and breathless and not quite reaching the level he needs it to reach. He needs to get it out of him, away from him, and he needs the images burnt from his mind. God, but he gets no reprise even as he sleeps, even as he tries to, even as...he…

Izuku is so incredibly tired. And he has work the next day. His job, the new one, the promotion, the job that he is wholeheartedly grateful for.

00:07, two days after

He hates the job. He should resign.

00:11, two days after

But Izuku can’t. He can’t, because of the promise. He cannot step away from what he does not want to bear alone, because of a stupid piece of paper and the memory of hands gripping his shoulders and insisting Izuku promised.

He should’ve told him then and there.

He didn’t.

And he can’t, not anymore.

11:00, four days after

The leather is uncomfortably cold, and Izuku shivers despites himself. Light filters in from the window, hitting the furniture at every angle but a one that would brighten up Izuku’s immediate vicinity. It’s fitting, that it also leaves the crumpled tissues and smashed glass in shadow, doesn’t venture near the small cuts on Izuku’s hands where it pierced his skin.

He doesn’t feel the pain, not really - nothing overshadows the numbness spreading throughout his blood. Izuku doesn’t hurt, Izuku doesn’t hurt, Izuku doesn’t feel.

Izuku doesn’t want to, and so he won’t.

Will he?

02:49, eight days after

“Roses are fuck all compared to you,” the blonde shouts in the background of the video, Kirishima gleefully zooming in on Izuku’s flustered look as the compliment sinks in. That had been taken...three months ago? Four? And of course, it had been funny, at the time, but the video doesn’t look quite the same when Izuku watches with blurry eyes, impulsively clicking on ‘replay’ when the clip ends. Tears make for a comforting filter, he thinks. He doesn’t have to see it properly, this way. It’s better.

Though, no, it’s not better, that’s a lie, but it’s something, and when they told him it was obligatory that he take the week off work that he initially hadn’t, they also mentioned that it would help to do something with the time, and so he does, he does do something. See? He’s not sleeping, sleeping is a waste of time, he’s doing something!

And he...how many days has it been? Izuku...Izuku doesn’t know, but that’s okay, that’s perfect, because he doesn’t need to know how many days it’s been since he shattered the rose vase with his bare hands. The wilted roses are still lying there, petals strewn across pieces of shattered glass.

They’re mocking him, the roses are mocking him, he hates the roses, he can’t-

He can’t touch-

“Roses are fuck all compared to you.”

Izuku’s eyes are glued to the screen again.

14:51, eleven days after

The phone terrifies him. The last time he picked up the...the thing, it gave him a promotion. He doesn’t need anything else, thank you, he just wants to be left alone.

But Uraraka and Kirishima seem...they seem unhappy, disappointed. Why are they so upset? Izuku is protecting himself, Izuku needs to protect himself if he’s going to save everyone with a smile, so what’s the matter?

“Mido, I-” Uraraka is holding his shoulders. The same way...the same way Kacchan was holding his shoulders, that day.

Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan...it’s not Kacchan anymore. It was Bakugou Katsuki, the blonde’s name was, and he needs to give it up. But he’s Deku, he’s useless, because Kacchan always said so himself. Deku can’t do anything right, even Bakugou Katsuki knew that. Kacchan, Kacchan, Kac-

“Midoriya, please,” she pleads, and shakes his shoulders this time. Bakugou Katsuki shook his shoulders like that, she can’t do it too, it’s not right, he-

He flinches away violently, and so does she, and it’s when she flinches that Midoriya Izuku finally, finally wakes up from his stupor.

“We called you forty times, Mido,” she whispers shakily, and both she and Kirishima open their ams.

Izuku collapses.

18:13, twelve days after

“And this is the document?” Mina asks, holding it gingerly in her hands. Izuku is glad that she can appreciate its importance, and manages a weak smile.

He’s smiling, now. The last time he’d smiled, he’d been…

Well, this time, it’s sincere, and, as stupidly insignificant as it may appear, Izuku knows that he’s in good hands.

Mina doesn’t smile. Neither does Kirishima or Kaminari. It would the four of them, usually, smiling and driving Kacchan up the wall with it, but it’s only Izuku this time who still plasters it on his face. And he realised that they’ve been through this too, but half in the dark in a way which Izuku wasn’t, and he feels so horribly selfish for losing control when he should’ve been the one to tell them the full story.

“Kacchan was adamant that I take the role of offensive squad leader if he-if he didn’t…” Izuku finishes quietly. “If he were not to survive.”

A pregnant pause.

Followed by:

“Fuck!” Kaminari exclaims, and the other three jump. “I just- shit, it’s just...it’s unfair. We, we lost communication with him two months ago, scoured the whole of Japan for him, underworld included, and all we get in the end is word that he-he...we don’t even get his body!”

Kaminari’s voice breaks on the last word, and it’s as if the floodgates have been unleashed because they’re weeping then, huddled together as they mourn after what has been cruelly ripped from their very beings - they have lost a part of themselves, the part that belonged to him.

It’s almost two weeks after Izuku gets the call that he begins to comprehend it.

His smile is gone.

22:25, a fortnight after the death of Bakugou Katsuki

“Believe me,” Kirishima begs.

“I can’t,” Izuku gasps out as the sobs wrack his body, the hands that wipe at his eyes unsteady. He tries in vain to get a grip on himself as Kirishima continues, clutching at the edge of the desk.

“I swear to you, he loved you, Midoriya, he loved you like he loved no one else.”

On the table is a photo of a three year old Kacchan holding up a sleeping Izuku protectively. Little Kacchan's face tells Izuku that of course it's true, Kirishima wouldn't lie like this. Kacchan loved you.

“I,” Izuku can hardly get a word out. “I love him too. Love, present, because I still do, even though…even though-”

He’d never told Kacchan anything of the sort. His last words to him had been to “stop freaking out, because you're coming right back, understand? The world needs a hero like you.”

“Yeah, whatever, Deku; the world needs us both,” he'd grinned, knocking a shoulder against the green-haired boy’s until Izuku had giggled. The seriousness from the day before when he'd made Izuku promise to take over if anything happened was gone.

Then, sparing one more glance at Izuku, he ran off in his costume, sunlight framing his retreating figure in a way that made Izuku think that maybe once his Kacchan was back, he'd tell him that he was in love with him.

But he's dead. His Kacchan is dead, the one person who he cared for more than life itself gone. Never again will his Kacchan reply to him. The world has lost a blinding, irreplaceable light.

Kirishima makes a move to comfort him as Izuku grieves, when the phone rings. And they know now, of his irrational fear, all of his friends do. The others have taken it on themselves to answer calls and relay messages until he makes enough progress with a therapist Uraraka recommended him to (they- they aren't getting far enough fast enough, he needs to-), and so Kirishima reaches for the phone, but Izuku snaps out a hand to stop him.

“I-”

“If you're sure.”

“Mhmm.” He doesn't trust his voice enough to say yes plain and simple, but Kirishima allows him to take the phone.

He holds it up to his ear.

Breathes in.

“H-hello? Pro H-hero Deku speaki-speaking?”

Breathes out.

And then he can't breathe, he cannot, he, oh God, he-

On the other end of the line, Bakugou Katsuki implores, voice ragged and torn:

“Deku! Deku, fuck, please, save me, they'll fucking kill me, they'll- shit, I'm going to d-”

And the line goes dead.

[zykjhrzqkn1h4m3xyine]

7/10/19

Today I woke up and I left my phone in my bed and i had to sneak it downstairs so my mom didn't notice. I managed to, it was quite easy actually.

Thinking about it, I really hated the time I posted a picture with of the femanazis from Ouran highschool, and she was looked at me with the most condescending ass of a fuxking face and shook her head and went no, I fucking hate that. Something about that just makes my fucking blood boil. Fuck. I hate that face, I want to just fucking punch it right now. The things she does is actually quite obnoxious.

There's one thing I hate more than anything, thats being left behind. God I fucking hate that. I think I learnt it from GAE, they don't give a fucking shit about you if you falter behind. They will just keep on fucking going. God fuck you. You just have to pick up your own boots and go on without them. I'm really glad I don't consider them by friends anymore because they're actually really big assholes.

I was listening to the supermegacast, about them being detained and stuff, and their story from the protest really opened my eyes a lot, I quite admire them now, when they played video games I thought they were like middle schoolers just fucking around, when they were opening the fan mail I thought they were assholes treating the mail with such disrespect. Now I quite admire them because they're cool and stuff. But what they said about the protest and how it wasn't violent at all, and the protesters shun the violent people, that really opened my eyes. It's episode 27 by the way. I'm thinking about how much I should write into this because just then I forgot the name of the podcast and had to go back to it and look what it was again, and should I had written that into it?

I've been using this mood tracker thing and it's actually really cool, it's called moodpath and it tracks your mood, and also you questions like "have you had trouble sleeping" 3 times a day. So at the end of a fortnight, it gives you a report on how things are adding up, unfortunately because I can't use it in China I haven't been able to use it.

Now onto what I ate for breakfast, I ate pork buns and some short cake I think. We steamed it using the frying pan.

We went to the supermarket to buy some lunch and at the checkout, my mom lost her wallet. I also used up all my data downloading apps to play on the plane. I think I should tell her that tomorrow night so she’s in her calmest state. We never found it.

We found it. I drew a picture of it, and that helped find it. My mom pushed me to hug them which I was not comfortable with at all. I asked her why and she said “because you’re cuter.” Well hate to break it to you now, people don’t find 13 year olds cute anymore.

Anyway the reason I opened my diary again was Because I wanted to write about the first moment that really impacted me about how much GAE didn’t like me. It was 29/11/19 Ameera spent the whole fucking day just fawning over Gabby. And during lunch when Gabby came back, she held Ameera’s hand and acted like a child doing a little dance. Not that was really impactful for me, because I realised that neither Ameera or Ema really liked me all that much as their priority, but at least I had Gabby, at least she had my back, at least I wasn’t all alone. THEN BAM. That really hurt me. I stared having a breakdown and tearing up a little. Now it’s like this. If I could show them everything they put me through, all I wish I could say to them is FUCK YOU.

I think people dehumanise other people a lot. Think of NPCs in games, that’s how people view others. Their entire existence is an add on to your game experience. But they’re not. They’re other players and have lived their entire life just like you have. People don’t think about that. That’s why people are assholes to each other, because they forget that they are people too. Any amount of negativity can ruin someone’s day, so I’m going to try to be aware of that. A lot of people don’t realise that.

Human behaviour is disgusting but the people who complain about that aren’t worth anymore than the people they are complaining about.

Today has gone by so fast, I felt that it was over before it really started, oh and by the way when we were trying to find moms little bag, I fell asleep for an hour exactly thanks to the tide app, it had an alarm which woke me up when I had a power nap.

I once heard a saying that said if you think everyone is an asshole, it’s not them it’s you. So I’m thinking is it my fault that I’m friendless? For the third time? But it couldn’t be right? For Lydia, she said that I was boring and just stopped being my friend. But yeah I guess me being boring is my fault. For Laura and faith, they didn’t dislike me it was just Angela. She said shit like “just because she sits with us doesn’t mean she’s our friend.” And she really hated the way I dressed and that really affected my need to dress well now. For GAE now, well they just treated me like shit and didn’t care that much about me. But could all this be me making it up, and it’s really all my fault that I always end up friendless no matter what school I go to. Like I don’t think that everyone is an asshole. I like the people on discord and I like my classmates. But I just don’t know.

On the topic of why people gatekeep is because they want to have something special to themselves. People just want to be special, and having people deny that is just like having a big fuck you to their face. So they basically take it personally.

I hate the romanticisation of being stubborn, you see it all the time in books and movies but it's really just annoying. I fucking hate it. Real life is not like fucking books and movies, it's real fucking life. In books it's always good verses evil and me verses them or them verses us, but in real life it's us verses the problem. And having that good verses evil is such a toxic mindset.

[jafreitag]

Grateful Dead Monthly: Radio City Music Hall – New York, NY 10/31/80

On Friday, October 31, 1980, the Grateful Dead played a show at Radio City Music Hall in New York City.

Radio City Music Hall, the home of the Rockettes and the so-called “Showplace of the Nation,” sits in midtown Manhattan on property that John D. Rockefeller leased from Columbia University. Originally planned as a home for the Metropolitan Opera, the Rockefeller Center site gained the attention of movie theater mogul Samuel Roxy Rothafel, who proposed two venues – a movie theater and a music hall. After some twists and turns (the Wiki provides a nice account), construction began in 1931 and finished in 1932, when it opened to the public.  The Art Deco gem seats 5,960, and hosted the Dead only once – an eight-night run in 1980 that culminated with this Halloween show.

The RCMH run followed a quick two-night run at New Orleans’ Saeger Theater and, before that, a fifteen-night run at San Francisco’s Warfield Theater.  Fifteen nights to celebrate (somewhat belatedly) the band’s then-fifteen year history.  The band recorded all of the Warfield shows for a live album. Dennis McNally in his book A Long Strange Trip estimated that the fortnight-plus-one spanned 800 reels of tape.  Typical two-set Dead shows were long, but these were each longer by a whole set – an opening acoustic set, in a throwback to 1970.  Mark Binder, on a blogpostassociated with a “Yesterday’s Dead Today” segment on Sarasota Community Radio, mentions difficulties for tapers:

“Soundboards of the acoustic sets on this tour are fairly common, but many dates from the Warfield and Radio City don’t have soundboards, since the Dead and Bill Graham knew they would be recording for future releases. There are many stories on the ‘net documenting how some stealth tapers succeeded, some were caught, and even one who was caught, ejected from the venue, and then invited back in thru another door.”

Regarding the Warfield shows, McNally heaped alot of praise on Bill Graham, but not much on the Dead.  He said “the band’s contribution to the party was at a very good but not superior level.” He attributed that to a lack of rehearsal for the acoustic sets, which caused Garcia’s touch to be “atrocious” at the beginning of the run.

That touch improved as the band moved east and decamped at RCMP.

According to David Browne in his book So Many Roads, Radio City was struggling at the turn of the ’70s. Here’s his account, in an excerpt from Rolling Stone:

“[B]y the late seventies, with New York City in fiscal freefall, Radio City’s future was suddenly shaky; movie attendance dropped, and plans to convert it into an office building or parking lot loomed.

Thankfully the interior of the building was granted landmark status in 1978, and its famed art-deco lobby and other interior design elements were refreshed for $5 million. During talks to save the building the idea of booking pop acts came up, and by the fall of 1980 Radio City Music Hall had presented one major pop star, Linda Ronstadt. Now it would host an entirely different kind of beast, the Grateful Dead, who were about to settle in for eight nights, October 22 to 31 (with the nights of October 24 and 28 off).”

Brown reported that the run felt like “an event,” and the Dead literally tailored the venue to their recording setup. Again, Browne:

“To accommodate the recording the Dead needed two hefty Neve recording consoles, one rented and the other shipped out from their Front Street home base. Both had to be hauled up a flight of stairs to reach Plaza Sound, the studio that sat atop Radio City (and where punk bands like Blondie and the Ramones had recorded). The Dead’s office had sent paperwork ahead of time to make sure the consoles would be able to make it into the building, but when the time came to install them, a problem arose: the consoles couldn’t quite clear the stairwell. After some head-scratching, one of the union workers at the venue, with drummer Mickey Hart’s urging, said, ‘Oh, fuck it—we’ve gotta get this thing up here.’ With that they grabbed a sledgehammer and took down a few inches of the stairwell wall.

Promoter John Scher, who’d been working with the Dead for several years by that point, had no idea the ‘renovation’ was happening, and the thought of physical damage to the interior of a New York landmark rattled even Scher, who thought he’d seen it all with the Dead. ‘I remember them telling me after they’d already done it, after the fact,’ Scher says. ‘I was basically shitting in my pants until the shows were over.’ It wouldn’t be the first time the Dead would encounter some pushback in their career, but this victory was significant. ‘I had no second thoughts about that,’ says Hart. ‘It was the thing to do. Nothing stops the Grateful Dead. Onward into the fog.’ They’d already made it to fifteen years despite adversity, busts, deaths, and fallow periods, and no one was about to let a bit of concrete stand in their way.”

In a story that’s featured in Browne’s book, McNally’s book, and bassist Phil Lesh’s book, Searching for the Sound, the Dead were actually sued by RCMH’s management, who were concerned that the poster (it’s the header image) by Dennis Larkins, BG’s art director, was mocking Radio City’s recent difficulties and suggesting its impending demise.  The suit was later dropped.

The Warfield and Radio City shows were eventually documented on two live albums – the acoustic [Dead] Reckoning and the live Dead Set. (Those links from the incredible GD Lyric and Song Finder break down which songs came from which shows.) Here they are on Spotify:

The Halloween show was special. Per Browne, it was broadcast live by closed-circuit feed to fourteen movie theaters around the country with setbreak comedy bits by Al Franken and Tom Davis from SNL.  So how did the Grateful Fn Dead start such a momentous night? With an eight-minute version of the title track of guitarist Bob Weir’s 1978 live album, Heaven Help the Fool, followed by an unknown instrumental from 1976’s Blues for Allah. Of course, haha, crowd pleasers for the fans far and wide. The rest of the acoustic set is fine. Garcia sounds husky at times, as he does for much of the two runs, but he and the rest of the band are otherwise in good form. It Must’ve Been the Roses and Bird Song, which gets rave reviews from the Live Music Archive folks, are particularly sweet.

(Photo credit: James R Anderson.)

The electric sets are uneven, tbh.  First one? The Jack Straw > Cold Rain and Snow opening couplet is so-so. A couple of cowboy songs, a nice Ramble on Rose into a waaay too long Little Red Rooster, a sorta crappy Looks Like Rain (Bobby clearly is emoting for the cameras), and a lively Deal closer.  Second one?  There’s a decent, if by the books (they all are, fwiw), Lost Sailor > Saint of Circumstance, if that’s your thing.  The Franklin’s Tower is peppy; the Fire on the Mountain is hot.  Then a fun Not Fade Away > Stella Blue > GDTRFB > Good Lovin’ segment, and an Uncle John’s Band encore.  Not too shabby.

Transport to the Bill Tetzeli seed of the soundboard recording on the LMA HERE. That’s the version that ECM sent to me, but there are others – check out the right column on Relisten.net.

Most of this show, along with a few songs from the preceding night, ultimately became the Dead Ahead video/dvd – a fave of mine in h.s. a million years ago. Better yet, the entire show (from the closed-circuit feed) is on YouTube, as you might imagine. Super super cool to see such high quality video of the band at one of their peaks.

Oh, and if you’re a download person still, the Midnight Cafe has uploaded all of the Warfield shows HERE. Have at it.

Happy Halloween!

More soon.

JF

from WordPress https://ift.tt/2Q8CrUu via IFTTT

[writerericgreene]

Should I?

People think that there’s some secret sauce, some special ingredient that only we know about. There isn’t. It’s just data. 

Reams of data, piles, mountains, tera-mega-goodle-flops of it, all poured into the algorithms, sliced and diced until what comes out the other end doesn’t look anything at all like what you’d imagine. What if you knew that you’d made your marriage proposal based on your partner’s haircut? It gets worse. Taken a job because of how many coffees you had the day before? Moved across the country to be with your beloved because of how often your cousin tweeted last year? It’s all in there, in the algorithms. If you tried to trace out the lines, to track each little connection, it would send you crazy. 

So of course we serve it up with a neat little figurine, 3D modelled off your profile photo, a little bit of ageing (another algorithm), casting you forward twenty, thirty years into the future. Put a smile or a frown on that face, and people are sold, hook, line and life decision. 

But let me back up a little. 

It started, like most things, with a dating website. People wanted to know. Where they making the right choice? They’d been matched up by (yet another) algorithm, they’d read the profile, and they’d gone on the dates. Sometimes it was just a few dates, people wanting an answer before they’d even made it a fortnight. Other times people waited until the proposal, or the morning of the wedding. But it was the same question, asked a thousand different ways, in our support inbox. 

Should I? Am I doing the right thing? 

We all want an answer to that question. It’s why we love Scrooge’s Christmas - because the old fuck got an answer, a clear indication. Sure, the Christmas spirits told him he was fucking up. But they told him! Imagine that, waking up the next day, knowing that you were doing the right thing, and it would work out for you. 

I don’t know if it was the right thing, but heaven forgive us, we gave them an answer. We nurtured a small, starving little algorithm on one of the servers, bereft of data. Then we fed it. Slowly at first, nurturing it, hand-feeding it like a vet nursing a bird with a broken wing. It predicted relationship success at six months. Then a year. Then five years. Then a decade. 

Then we were pouring the data in, every single thing we could our hands on, and a few other things. Addresses, ages, height, hair colour, social media handles, credit scores, social media groups, academic results. It didn’t matter what it was - the algorithm at the data. 

And we got answers. Couples were moving in together, because of the little figurines, telling them they’d succeed. One man quit his job and moved to Norway to be with a man he’d never met, because of the algorithm. People were creating profiles on the site, just to get an answer. Counsellors started recommending it to their clients, a final check before they signed the papers. 

Then we made it universal. Jobs. Degrees. Careers. Children. Every decision, and we had an answer. Think about it. Have you ever had that uncertainty, the wondering, gripping you tight in your gut? You get one life, one simple, fragile thread that you weave into the tapestry. No take-backs, no redos, no do-overs or undos, no retries or second takes. Each and every decision rippling out, forever, staying with you like this load that you accumulate. 

We can’t give people a second chance, or an infinite lifetime. But we can give them the peace of knowing that they’re making the right choice. 

People get this calm, when they get an answer. As though a weight’s been lifted. We’ve run focus groups, micro-analysed the videos. It’s the same whether it’s the answer they want, or the one they’re dreading. The same sudden moment of confusion, of silence staring at the screen. Then something shifts in their shoulders, and suddenly they’re sitting up straighter. Most don’t stay in the chair for more than a few minutes. They’re out, up into it, launching themselves into their decision. 

Of course, people wrote think pieces about how we were tearing apart society, and how there was no transparency about the algorithm (transparency! as if we could have been transparent. It was so large, so opaque, all we could do was look at the output correlations. Anything beyond that was like trying to read the mind of god). Academics published papers, and governments asked to see our data files. 

But when it all died down, those same commentators, journalists, academics, senators and bureaucrats were typing in their own choices, waiting to see that little figurine stroll onto the screen, hair greying, and either smile and say ‘Do it!’, or frown and say ‘Don’t do it!’. 

We tracked the usage patterns. People who use the machine sleep better. They live longer. They smile more. They even orgasm more frequently. 

But do you want to know the best part? 

It doesn’t work. 

We’ve been collecting the data, as we go. At first it was correlational, hypothetical, all extrapolating from like cases, trying to build out from the little data points we had. But now, now we’ve been tracking people for years, decades, watching their questions feed in and the decisions flow out, and the follow-up surveys are going out. 

Turns out that if you follow the machine’s advice, doesn’t make any difference. People still married against the algorithm’s wisdom, still moved to jobs we told them they’d hate. But you know what? They still got all the benefits, the happy, long-living, frequently smiling orgasms. 

Because it doesn’t matter whether you follow the answers or not. We all just want to believe that someone knows there is an answer.