#true frontier magazine

[atomic-chronoscaph]

Western paperbacks and magazines cover art by John Duillo (1960s, 1970s)

[trashexplorer]

BLCD Review: Saezuru 7

Title: Saezuru Tori wa Habatakanai 7 (囀る鳥は羽ばたかない 7)

Author/Artist: Yoneda Kou

Shop: CD + Manga

Release Date: 2021/07/28

Cast:

Hatano Wataru + Shingaki Tarusuke

Okitsu Kazuyuki

Masuda Toshiki

Ookawa Tooru

Ueda Yuuji

Satou Takuya

Miyake Kenta

Ito Kentarou

Nara Tooru

Synopsis: Adaptation of the 7th volume of the series.

Review Proper

I'm not sure what's gonna end first: the series or my fucking life.

As much as I love Saezuru, it's gone on for so long that it's starting to get old literally and figuratively. You know, I wouldn't even be mad if Yoneda Kou ended the series by killing Yashiro off in 6. 7 is still well-written to a point and the BLCD did deserve to rank second AGAIN in chil-chil 2022, but I'm not sure about the future of this series (it wasn't nominated in 2023 tho which is one of the few good things about 2023's).

I say a lot of things, but I'm still invested in vol. 7 & 8.

I don't know who I'm jealous of, BUT THAT SHOULD BE ME! This scene is in vol 8, not 7, but I wanted to include it anyway.

I do agree that Saezuru portrayal of the whole yakuza deal is the realest 'cause happy endings over there are quite rare, but this isn't a novel that comes out in one go. Doesn't help that June is ass. I've heard from several friends who've read the latest releases that it feels like it's lost its way and that just makes me sad. I'm still hopeful tho.🤧

As I've already stated, this placed second in 2022's awards. I mean, it's Saezuru. Frontier doesn't spare a penny for it lmao. All the major characters are voiced, and they managed to bring the A-listers back again. Sometimes, I forget that Saezuru is actually based on a manga whenever I listen to the BLCDs 'cause the production is just that good.

Shingaki slayed as usual. I've said this many times before, but no matter how bad or how well he does in another role, he will always be Yashiro. I just came from Tsunaida and we're in the middle of a Rei event in Nu:carnival, so I would expect myself to adjust to Yashiro, but I didn't need any of that lmao. Yashiro is truly Shingaki's magnum opus. I'm not at all surprised that he placed 3rd best seiyuu for Yashiro. Deserved.

Speaking of Nu:carnival, I will forever be obsessed with Yashiro's relationship with the other characters aside from Doumeki. Nanahara's voiced by my one true love, Okitsu, but like Yashiro, I love him for his character and not his voice. It is nice having the other veterans in here with him, too. The slut trio is complete with Daddy Complex SatoTaku, Boss Ass Chaser Okitsu, and Damel in Distress Shingaki. #BLESS I want Kamiya to end up with Nanahara.

I haven't heard Wacchan in years HAHAHAHAHA. His Doumeki is still amazing as always. My issues with the story aside, I'm really looking forward to his "break" in vol. 8. EEEEEEE

Special mention to my Ryuuzaki and Miyake Kenta who made their comebacks here too. I missed him so much! LMAO

The BLCD is pretty accurate to the... magazine at least, but June does sell the translated tanko (fortunately). Like the previous installments, reading the manga while listening to the BLCD was so smooth because it was so accurate. Now 7 does end in a cliffhanger, so I don't really advise listening to it if you still don't have 8. But if cliffhangers aren't an issue for you, then break a leg!

[welcome-to-green-hills]

Okay so I know that sometimes you get leaks right? Sometimes you have people give you leaks and stuff? Like how you were given the leak for frontiers dlc a few months before the game came out. And how you have movies leaks?

Have you ever received a leak that you knew was fake?

Hahaha! Oh, boy! I have!😅

There’s one that has always stuck with me. I use this one as an example every once in a while when teaching others to trust sources.

Back in 2022, my friends and I were met with this “tipper” that claimed that he had Sonic 3 leaks. The funny thing about this one was that any time he talked to my friends and myself, the information changed. The “tipper” didn’t know that my friends and I were sharing screenshots of the leak to confirm authenticity. That’s how we knew that this guy was a fraud. Any time the conservation came to an end, we’ve made it a point for the “tipper” to talk to each of us by ourselves.

By the time he came to talk to me, the supposed leak change four times. I was told the most chaotic and unbelievable things. Stuff like Knuckles’ age, Sonic’s sexuality, how many movies Paramount wanted, and creating a character to replace Tails entirely. All really weird things. The “tipper” even tried to make it a point in saying that he was Pat Casey’s best friend. That was his selling point—I had to believe this guy because he claimed to be Pat Casey’s best friend. Let me just say the first lie that he told my friends was that he was an inside reporter for a known Hollywood magazine.

If you know me, you know that I have an unhealthy obsession with SCU. Any time I asked a question, he would say to check the interviews that the writers made to prove his point. Which, mind you, were all wrong from this “tipper.” His information contradicted info from the SCU Crew. And then he made the final claim that a fandom ship would be canon to the films, but with drastic changes. These changes were supposed to be Amy would be in the fourth film, she was supposed to be relatively older with a slow burning romance that extended into five films and her dating a really young Sonic.

When I showed the “tipper” that his story changed four times via screenshots, questioned the VA for Shadow (he claimed it was Tom Cruise once, Matt Daemon the second time), showed information regarding ships from SEGA, and public interviews that the SCU Crew did for the films, the conversation quickly turned into how I wasn’t a true fan because I didn’t ship sonamy. Apparently, I had to accept that sonamy was canon and that it was the equivalent of a sin to not ship it. (He claimed it was practically canon because of their color schemes, as well as the plot point in SatBK). I also got a comment of how it was wrong to headcanon someone’s sexuality and that Sonic would be a hard straight male. It was both hysterical and awful.

Hysterical being that someone went out of the way to fabricate an entire lie. Awful being that someone was so uncomfortable with the idea of LGBTQAI+ headcanons—and not shipping specific characters together—that they had to make someone feel horrible.

And you know what’s worse than that? It creates a stereotype for those that like a particular ship. It really ruins it for those that love a ship and want to share their love for it, but are afraid to. I’m not a sonamy fan. I do, however, feel bad for those that ship it. Because there’s jackasses like what my friends and I have encountered that ruin it for those that enjoy it. That’s not fair. And I’m so sorry that this is still a problem. People like that ruin it for the good ones. Not everyone that you encounter in the fandom—or in any fandom—will act like this. Please know that I don’t care about what you do and don’t ship. What I care about is if you’re happy. As long as you’re happy, then I’m happy.

But yeah, when it comes to leaks, always question its authenticity. And know if you’re not sure about something you’re more than welcome to ask me. I don’t mind looking into leaks and asking the tough questions.

[museumgiftshoperaser]

Robin was her first kiss. If you want to get technical about it.

But they were thirteen and they were under the covers of Robin’s bed and they ate so much sugar they were shaky with it. That’s the thing about sleepovers, right? They’re like secrets. They’re little bubbles of time and space that exists completely outside of the rest of world.

So it didn’t really count.

Chrissy had been panicking about high school again, wrapped in Robin’s quilt with a pillow pressed hard against her stomach. And sure, it was still months and months away, but it was coming at them like a freight train. Too fast, with an unstoppable momentum as Chrissy was tied to the tracks.

Robin had long since made a little game out of it.

What if nobody likes me?

Then I will personally start your fan club.

Her solutions were rarely practical and Chrissy’s fears hardly ever made sense. Catastrophe after catastrophe drawn to their most dramatic conclusion. She knew she was being silly. But the game did help. It was good to know that in every single nightmare, no matter how strange, no matter how extraordinarily disastrous, Robin would be there. What if I trip and fall right in the middle of the cafeteria? Then I will trip right along with you. Right at the start of summer, with just three more months until high school, Chrissy was starting to run out of anxieties. But she wasn’t quite done with their game yet. It was too comforting. Playing along had become its own kind of security blanket. Robin tossed a magazine onto the floor of her bedroom and moved a little closer, pressed up against the headboard right alongside Chrissy. Their shoulders bumped, side by side like twin captains of a tiny ship. The magazine landed right side up next to Chrissy’s half of the bed. A pretty girl blew at kiss back at her from the glossy paper cover. Ten Summer Trends You Can’t Miss! Bold pink letters screamed at her. How to Get Perfect Curls at Home! But also… How to Nail Your First Kiss! It gave Chrissy pause. She pursed her lips together as her brain tested out the question. A whole new frontier, an unexplored ocean stretching out in front of them. What if I’m the only person who hasn’t kissed anyone yet? Robin turned to her and frowned, just a couple inches between their noses, with bumping knees and eyes so close Chrissy could see the green flecks in her eyes. What are you talking about? She said, completely ignoring the rules of the game. I haven’t kissed anyone either. Chrissy hadn’t actually been worried before. Her question was just a line in a game they had been playing for weeks, but confronted with Robin’s wide eyes something gnawed at the well in her stomach. That’s not how the game works, Chrissy said. You’re supposed to say… Her voice trailed off in the lamplight of the bedroom. She wasn’t sure what Robin was supposed to say, actually. The antidote wasn’t clear, but then again, to Chrissy is rarely was. What? Robin grinned. I’m not sure I’ve got an answer to this one. You could. So Robin leaned in, meeting in the middle, leaving Chrissy to close the gap. It wasn’t really what she meant, but as Robin looked at her, gentle and reassuring, she completely forgot what she had meant in the first place. So Chrissy kissed her. Just like that. Her lips sweet like buttery popcorn as she locked into place and let her eyes flutter shut. She didn’t really know what she was doing, neither of them did, but certain parts of them just fit together like pieces of a puzzle. Kissing was warmer than she expected. Softer.

Robin smiled against her mouth. Now Chrissy hadn’t actually read the article in the magazine, but she was pretty sure smiling wasn’t mentioned. Kissing was a serious affair, not setup and punchline, joke and a giggle.

But it was nice. Tender and sweet like the only true antidote to all of Chrissy’s fears. (What if no one likes me? Then you’ll still always have me.) They didn’t talk about it then. So it didn’t really count. Chrissy went on to kiss a boy from her math class at the acceptable culmination of their third date. His lips were dry and his hands hovered awkwardly, several inches away from her shoulders. It became the topic of several sleepovers, long past the expiration date of her childlike attempt at a freshman relationship. Robin kissed a boy from band during a game of spin the bottle at their first coed slumber party and made such a disgusted face afterwards that the boy locked himself in the bathroom. They laughed about that for years after the fact, mimicking the way Robin’s lips curled up like the aftertaste of a particularly sour lemon. Their kiss, the one between the two of them, wasn’t mentioned ever again. Not after Robin came out, not when people asked for first kiss anecdotes during games of truth or dare. Not even after that first night in Robin’s bed, months into college, with tangled limbs and pounding hearts. With hands under bed sheets and fingers curled around the hem of her nightgown. With a soft kiss pressed against the back of shoulder. Even then they didn’t talk about it. So it didn’t really count.

I think this works nicely as a little standalone, but it's also a little snippet from the upcomming chapter of Dandelions and Other Weeds (AO3), my childhood best friends to college roommates lesbian disaster fic <3

[elbiotipo]

Some of the aesthetics I want to introduce to my space opera setting just aren't possible anymore. Beto reading an paper magazine issue of Astronaútica Popular, old heavy CRT monitors (especially true when spaceships need to save weight), Ragua playing around with an old hand-held console, steel welded rockets. On one hand, it's also a bit nonsensical to expect realism in this way; all old sci-fi looks quaint and obsolete to us, except perhaps for the cyberpunk genre which remains surprisingly prescient, so no matter what I invent, it will be obsolete so I might say fuck it and go with a retro style anyways. On the other hand, it does requires less suspension of disbelief that daily life can remain mostly as it is, rather than go back to say, paper magazines and single use electronics.

It's just... I hate writing about using electronics because that's what I do all day. Writing my characters pulling a cellphone to solve their daily problems (as I did today multiple times) just clashes with me. A scene of Beto reading the latest astronautic news on his smartphone feels less authentic, if it makes sense, that him reading a magazine. Why is that?

The focus is still on the adventure and the "costumbrismo" (in quotes because it's not), the daily life of a rugged pilot in the space frontier who suddenly has to deal with a new person in his life. I don't want to write about him scrolling through his social media timeline, I want to write about him landing the ship on a remote airfield and basking under the light of unknown moons while drinking tereré. Even the presence of contemporary electronics just sorts of bothers me.

[dwellordream]

“Before the American Revolution, New Englanders viewed the family as a strict hierarchy, an arrangement in which power flowed from top to bottom: The father was ruler of all, the mother was underneath him, and the (theoretically) obedient children were at the bottom. After 1800, however, that ideal changed. Book and magazine writers began picturing families in which men controlled the public realm of politics and business, but women took responsibility for the private sphere of the home. A marriage was viewed more as a partnership; true, the woman was still the junior partner, but the older model of the man as an absolute ruler was no longer fashionable among middle-class Northeasterners. 

…Because the man felt he was putting so much on the line by proposing, a ‘proper’ woman was expected to return a well-reasoned reply within a short period of time. A woman knew, however, that her response was perhaps her last chance to have control over her life. Once she said ‘yes,’ the legal cards would be stacked against her, regardless of the declarations of love by her suitor. Because the expectations of middle-class marriage had been raised so high, women found reports of marital disasters very disconcerting. One married woman wrote to a single friend that marriage was a ‘sad, sober beverage’ that brought ‘some joys, but many crosses’. 

…Once married, the suitors often cooled the fiery protestations of love found in their letters. Although many couples developed strong, deep bonds of affection, the idea of separate spheres--that women should stay at home, and men go out in the world--kept them apart for many hours of their lives. Advice books and religious sermons emphasized that wives were to make the home a haven of restfulness for their husbands. 

This separation of duties provided women with other companionship, however. The split between home and work strengthened friendships between women as they came to understand what they shared with each other and how their lives differed from men’s. Unlike a wife’s relationship with her husband, a friendship with another woman was based on equality. Although women developed networks of friends and relatives, intense relationships between two women were not uncommon. 

…Although divorces were growing faster among the urban northern middle class than any other group, such separations were still rare. Within the United States, only one in a thousand marriages ended in divorce before the Civil War. If a woman successfully sued for divorce, she would soon be wondering what price she had paid for her freedom. Alimony, or money paid regularly by a husband to his former wife, was rarely awarded, although judges occasionally ordered one-time cash settlements to women who had been abused by their husbands. If a woman had brought property into the marriage, she was not likely to take it back out. Once she and her husband said their ‘I do’s,’ her husband legally controlled all she owned. Her chances for finding work were few, especially if she was approaching or beyond middle age. 

…The nature of farming meant that women and men worked the same land, that women helped produce food and earn cash. Women thus saw the farm as a mutual effort. Frontier women were also less concerned than their eastern contemporaries with raising perfect families. On the frontier, children were valued as workers and companions. These conditions made for a more pragmatic approach to child rearing. Children were an important part of the work force on a prairie farm. While the size of northeastern middle-class families was shrinking dramatically during this period, frontier families were holding steady, averaging around seven children each. Compared to northeastern women, frontier women married earlier, had children earlier, and continued to give birth for more years--often past the age of 45. 

…Marriage relations between enslaved African Americans in the South changed little during the early 19th century. Legally, a master owned a slave and could compel that person to do whatever he wished. However, most slaveholders wanted their slaves to pair off and often sanctioned slave unions with their blessing, but marriages between slaves were not recognized legally. Nonetheless, most slave owners had at least one eye on their finances in supporting a slave’s choice in marriage. A typical plantation manual advised slaveholders that a slave marriage based on love would add ‘to the comfort, happiness, and health of those entering upon it, besides ensuring greater increase.’ Such marriages produced both stability and more slaves, two requirements of a successful plantation operation.

…Although many black couples exhibited as much restraint as middle-class couples up North, it was not uncommon for children to be born out of wedlock because slave culture did not make outcasts of unwed mothers. Instead, the slave community expected the new father and mother to wed, whereupon the newborn was immediately accepted into the community. Black couples made an extra effort to respect personal boundaries in an effort to replace some measure of the self-respect their owners tried to strip from them. Indeed, a number of white observers noted that while slave couples often adhered to Christian notions of sexual restraint, their aggressive masters frequently did not. 

…Southern plantation women married earlier than northern women, usually around the age of 20. By their mid-20s, when middle-class Northerners were marrying, single plantation women were being labeled ‘old maids.’ The southern ‘belle’ was spared nothing by her doting parents--she could purchase the latest fashions, then quickly discard them for a new ensemble. She lived in a sheltered world, punctuated by frequent balls and daily rounds of social calls to other fashionable women in the neighborhood. 

…Marriage relations among the southern planter class were in many ways an exaggerated version of those among the northeastern middle class. While virginity before marriage was expected for northeastern women, southern planter society placed an absolute premium on the bride’s ‘purity’. Northeastern women were placed on a platform and praised for their selflessness and moral rectitude. Plantation women were put upon a gilded pedestal, and southern writers extolled the refinement, piety, and grace by which these women surpassed all others. The result was a tightly constrained life that offered southern women few opportunities to move beyond the boundaries their society had established for them.”

Michael Goldberg, “Reasons of the Heart: Marriage and Courtship.” in Breaking New Ground: American Women, 1800-1848

[dialogue-queered]

Extract 1: The identity of the commander of Israel’s Unit 8200 is a closely guarded secret. He occupies one of the most sensitive roles in the military, leading one of the world’s most powerful surveillance agencies, comparableto the US National Security Agency.

Yet after spending more than two decades operating in the shadows, the Guardian can reveal how the controversial spy chief – whose name is Yossi Sariel – has left his identity exposed online.

Extract 2: Sariel is the secret author of The Human Machine Team, a book in which he offers a radical vision for how artificial intelligence can transform the relationship between military personnel and machines.

Published in 2021 using a pen name composed of his initials, Brigadier General YS, it provides a blueprint for the advanced AI-powered systems that the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) have been pioneering during the six-month war in Gaza.

Extract 3: Unit 8200, once revered within Israel and beyond for intelligence capabilities that rivalled those of the UK’s GCHQ, is thought to have built a vast surveillance apparatus to closely monitor the Palestinian territories.

However, it has been criticised over its failure to foresee and prevent Hamas’s deadly 7 October assault last year on southern Israel, in which Palestinian militants killed nearly 1,200 Israelis and kidnapped about 240 people.

Since the Hamas-led attacks, there have been accusations that Unit 8200’s “technological hubris” came at the expense of more conventional intelligence-gathering techniques.

In its war in Gaza, the IDF appears to have fully embraced Sariel’s vision of the future [known as human-machine teaming] , in which military technology represents a new frontier where AI is being used to fulfil increasingly complex tasks on the battlefield.

Extract 4: Over the last six months, the IDF has deployed multiple AI-powered decision support systems that have been rapidly developed and refined by Unit 8200 under Sariel’s leadership.

They include the Gospel and Lavender, two target recommendation systems that have been revealed in reports by the Israeli-Palestinian publication +972 magazine, its Hebrew-language outlet Local Call and the Guardian.

The IDF says its AI systems are intended to assist human intelligence officers, who are required to verify that military suspects are legitimate targets under international law.

Extract 5: [Sariel's research] ... provides a template for how to construct an effective targets machine drawing on “big data” that a human brain could not process. “The machine needs enough data regarding the battlefield, the population, visual information, cellular data, social media connections, pictures, cellphone contacts,” he writes. “The more data and the more varied it is, the better.”

Extract 6: Sariel’s critics ... believe Unit 8200’s prioritisation of “addictive and exciting” technology over more old-fashioned intelligence methods had led to the [7 October 2023] disaster. One veteran official told the newspaper the unit under Sariel had “followed the new intelligence bubble”.

For his part, Sariel is quoted as telling colleagues that 7 October will “haunt him” until his last day. “I accept responsibility for what happened in the most profound sense of the word,” he said. “We were defeated. I was defeated.”

[fvaleraye]

Odd Jobs

heyyyyyyyy guys

it's been a while since we've posted any real writing, but we finished smth a few days ago. it's for Hunter, not Scintillam, sorry, but we had to write something and Hunter was what we could get ourself to type out, so Hunter is what you get "well why did it take you a few days to post it" well, for one, we had to get it proofread rq(thanks to @artnerd1123 for that <3), and secondly we just... kind of ended up overthinking ourself into a downward death spiral over it. we're not getting into why.

fun fact, actually- this third chapter of Hunter had over FIVE complete rewrites! some of those earlier versions are going to be reworked into later chapters, but the long and short of it is just "it feels too early to jump into the main meat of the story, and we have character building to do" so we're doing a bit more character building

anywhere, here u go

A small, desert planet. Relatively close to Terran Standard Hours, but not quite. Mostly empty, save for an early settlement or two, and a few camps. Temperate for most of the year, despite its ecology. Might not even need terraforming to grow plants. The main issue was the wildlife. But those were all facts for planetary settlers to worry about.

The planet’s gravity was what one was focused on today. It was slightly heavier than something like earth. Not enough to affect day to day life, for the most part.

But it was enough to affect the trajectory of a bullet. 

Bang. “Shit-!”

Nothing new to an interplanetary bounty hunter, however. Just some slight calibrations, that was all that was needed.  Raise the scope by a few micrometers. 

Bang.

Increase power to the chamber. 

Bang.

A few more micrometers, accounting for the heavier rounds.

Bang.

Steep walls around the camp, nestled in a ravine. Account for tailwind.

Bang.

A stomach flat on the ground. Low. Shields charged, just in case. Comfortable, laying next to a neat stack of fresh mags. The boxy magazines were heavy enough you could kill someone just by hitting them with it. The bullets were large, and each mag held two dozen. Quick kills, long distance, armor piercing. Perhaps a bit expensive to be shooting at common pirates, but everyone would get one. She made sure she brought enough to share with the whole class.

Two pirates stood nestled behind a rock, cowering from the shooting range their camp had turned into, rifles at the ready. Others were ducked tightly, hugging the ground around the camp as they found cover, while the unlucky ones littered the killbox. The armored ones had holes blown in their chest pieces. The more fragile ones had limb scattered about, a few heads that simply vanished.

“The fuck are you lot waitin’ for?!” The big one yelled from across the way, voice gravely and slightly distorted by a low quality speaker in his helmet. He was bulky, armored, with two sets of arms- clearly the leader, or the closest thing the pirates had to one left. “Get out there or-!”

“All due respect, hoss,” another called, human, frontier accent, “that ain’t happenin’.”

“It’s one hunter!” He bellowed in return towards his uppity accomplice. “One human-! They can’t kill us all!”

“True enough, everyone willin’ to gamble their heads in that open sightline, say aye!” He gave a snarky, shiteating grin as he glanced around at the sheer reluctance that permeated the camp. “... sounds like the crowd has spoken. God bless democracy.”

“Shut up, scragfuck-!”

Bang.

Everyone flinched, and one fell to the ground in a panic, nearly dropping his weapon as the bullet pierced his cover and impacted the dirt next to him.

“It was your idea to set up camp here, ‘hoss’.”  The big one growled, hunkering down as much as his frame and joints would allow.

“... that it were, that it were indeed.” He admitted, sucking in a reluctant breath of air. “I said it would be defensible, and… well, it is, but…”

“But, our gods damned camp is getting slaughtered by one sniper because there’s no scragfucking cover!”

“I am acutely aware, hoss-”

“Well then come up with a solution, ‘deputy’-!”

“I am working on it, scragshit-!”

Bang. “Fuck-!” The deep, bassy explosion of the bullet exiting the barrel once again shook the nerves of everyone in camp, this time managing to pierce the steel wall one was hiding behind, going limp from their prior crouched position.

He took a breath.

He looked around at everyone at camp, all the crouched figures, the one standing next to him, and all the bodies. He raised his gun around the rocky corner, slowly deliberately, and tossed it to the ground.

A moment of silence later, and he stepped out from his cover, hands up.

“What are you doing-?!” The boss whispered, gripping his weapon.

“Shh-!” He stepped forward, towards the mouth of the ravine. Bang. Everyone flinched, but no-one flinched quite as hard as the deputy, tripping over his own two feet and landing on his ass as the bullet landed mere inches from his foot. “Fuck-!”

“Not one step closer, ‘hoss’.” The voice on the other end of the scope called, voice modulated slightly and boosted moderately by the high quality speaker in her suit.

“I ain’t armed! See?” He gestured to the rifle on the ground, slowly accumulating desert dust as he slowly made his way to his feet, hands still in the air. “They pay more for alive than dead, don’t they? Like in the movies?” He forced a lighthearted chuckle, halfway between a smile and a wince.

“We may be in a desert, and you might be dressed like a cowboy, but this isn’t a western.” Ariis retorted, unmoving.

“Look- we… we got a lot of money back here!” He loosened his posture slightly, shrugging. “I’m just saying! We could pay ya a lot more than whatever those hick colonists are payin’ ya!”

“And you’ll shoot me in the back when I come to collect. Or you’ll try to, anyway. Cute.”

“No- ma’am, you have my word, on my gentlemanly honor,” he placed a hand on his chest, and one in the air, “no harm shall come to you, if you deliver no more harm unto us. You can take the money and go.”

“Is that even your real accent?”

His voice hitched a bit, stammering quietly and briefly. “I… y-yeah? ‘Course it is-”

“Oh, so you’re just leaning into the bit, then?”

“Well, I… I-I-I have a reputation to uphold, y’see.”

“I am aware.” She shot, coldly, finger menacingly depressing the trigger slightly, despite no living thing being close enough to witness the threat. “People pay a lot for reputations, ‘y’see’.”

He swallowed a ball of fear, glancing towards the sweet embrace of the rock he was previously hunkered behind.

“Unfortunately for you and your gang, your reputation is the sort that gets me paid just as good dead as alive, because they’re gonna kill you anyway.”

“... w-why uh… haven’t ya shot me, then?”

She shrugged invisibly, not disturbing her firing stance. “Curiosity, mostly.”

“... w-well… if it makes a lick a’ difference, uh… i-it ain’t my gang-”

“Semantics.” She sucked in air, holding it in her lungs.  “... and semantics isn’t my line of work.” Bang.

A shot through the heart, left arm ripped violently from its socket and flying halfway across the ravine. Dead, instantly.

Exhale.

“This is an odd job, boys.” She called from her perch, smiling under her helmet. “You know what that means? That means I don’t have anywhere better to be. Go ahead. If anyone else wants to be a hero or a smartass, then step forward.”

The stand off continued well into the night. It wasn’t until the sun broke the horizon that the last of them were dead. A few more bullets spent than she’d like, but such is life. Nobody’s perfect.

She took a few souvenirs, just things to show to the client to prove the job was done, and collect her reward. A shootout with some hick gang on a backwater planet… a far cry from the diplomatic assassination from months ago. But there always had to be smaller jobs like this when things got slow, to break up the monotony.

“And they’re all dead?” The representative questioned, looking the hunter up and down.

“Yes, I wouldn’t be back if they weren’t.” Ariis snapped, arms crossed as her attitude was growing increasingly cross. “I did all the paperwork. You can either give me my money, or I can file a complaint with my handler.”

“That- that won’t be necessary, miss Sol-” They coughed awkwardly, and started to fidget with a tablet. “The money will be in your account before you go offworld. Thank you for your service.”

She just wordlessly stepped out. Funny how she always felt more at home staring down a kill zone through a scope in a dusty ravine than in a clean office filing paperwork. Bureaucracy scared her more than any mark.

She was about to hop in her ship after that, at least until she saw a familiar ‘face’ lumbering his way up to her at the shipyard.

“Wait… is that-?”

[There she is.] The voice was deep, heavily modulated and very low quality, using an old speaker to broadcast an ancient translator in a patchwork junker of an environment suit. A juggernaut of a sentient, various multicolored tubes sticking out of and snaking into various ports.

“Uncle Guz!” She called, stepping back down from her ship’s side and towards him, meeting him halfway up the landing pad. “It’s been too long, what are you doing in this backwater?”

[Looking for you, actually.] He muttered, face hidden behind the emotionless, multi eyed faceplate of his env suit.

“For me?” She parroted skeptically. “... I’m guessing it’s not just to say hi.”

[Smart girl.] He handed a tablet off to her, staying silent for a moment as she browsed its contents. [Wanted to take you along for a jank. Gib. J-] Guz smacked the side of his helmet, a reverberating clang startling the technicians, but not Ariis. [Job.]

She just let out a sigh. “... this isn’t a salvage job.”

[Salvaging isn’t my only culling. Calling.] A very muffled, bubbly groan that wasn’t picked up by the translator barely managed to make its way out of the suit. He was going to need to replace that translator eventually.

“I know.” She handed the tablet back off, the giant shuffling it back into a pack at his side. “But still, was hoping we were going to get drinks or something.”

[Maybe after, toddler.] Another barely audible groan.

“Yeah, that nickname never translates well, even with the new ones.” She chuckled lightly. “Still, I just got done clearing pirates, and now I’m getting dragged along to kill more…”

[No-one is dragging you along.]

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I’m not coming.” She tilted her head slightly. “You wanna take my ship? It’s faster.

[No. Too quiet. If a ship’s too quiet-]

“-then something’s broken, I know.” She sighed. “You’re attached to your junker.”

[Gertrude just has character.]

“A spaceship has as much character as you give it.” She turned on her heel, heading back towards her own spaceship. “See you there, then. Don’t break down on the way.”

[No promises.] Despite the monotone of the translator, she could feel the sarcasm as he turned and started to board his own characteristically boxy, patchwork ship. Compared to hers, it looked like a brick. That was part of its charm, though. Always was.

… never a dull day.

[thehorrortree]

Welcome, cybernauts and digital scribes! As we venture into the week of December 11th to the 15th, let us immerse ourselves in the high-tech, intricate realms akin to those envisioned by Neal Stephenson. Embrace the cerebral energy of cyberpunk and science fiction, where every byte and pixel can unfold into complex narratives, much like Stephenson's genre-defining works. In this week's compendium of opportunities, you're invited to navigate the neon-lit streets of the future, each link a portal to potential worlds where technology and human experience collide in unexpected ways. A fascinating fact about this date range: December 14th marks the anniversary of the first transmission of a radio signal by Guglielmo Marconi in 1901, a groundbreaking moment that forever changed communication and paved the way for the digital age—a fitting inspiration for authors exploring the frontiers of technology in their writing. In the spirit of Stephenson's imaginative vision, remember his words: "The difference between stupid and intelligent people—and this is true whether or not they are well-educated—is that intelligent people can handle subtlety.” Let this be a guide as you weave your narratives, balancing the complexity of your worlds with the delicate nuance of human (or perhaps post-human) experience. As we delve deeper into December, let your tales be a testament to the ever-evolving dance between humanity and technology, where each story is a thread in the ever-expanding tapestry of speculative fiction. 🌐📖 You can watch this week's round up here: https://youtu.be/qfQSn75qpxs This week's video is up and I've spoken about: The Fairy Tale Magazine https://horrortree.com/taking-submissions-fairy-tale-magazine-2024-spring-summer-window-early/ Nupenthee Press https://horrortree.com/taking-submissions-untitled-folk-horror-anthology/ Sliced Up Press https://horrortree.com/taking-submissions-slay-and-slay-again-an-anthology-of-queer-horror/ Kangas Khan Publishing - A fear of clowns anthology https://horrortree.com/taking-submissions-fear-of-clowns-a-horror-anthology/ Thanks as always, and if you're looking to support Horror Tree, please be sure to subscribe to our Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/horrortree Donate to our Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/horrortree or order one of our recent editions of Trembling With Fear! You can find Trembling With Fear: Year 6 here: https://www.amazon.com/Trembling-Fear-Year-Stuart-Conover-ebook/dp/B0CK3Y48WT/ Thanks for joining us, and have a great weekend! - Belinda and the Horror Tree Staff

[tneql]

With the development of the innovative picture box technology comes new growth for the Trelin Direct... magazines!

Previously the leading manager of A.R.C. (the Airmail Relocation Centre), Sura Wordweaver now takes over as Editor-In-Chief of the company, leading the Direct in it's exciting expansion.

Deaf from birth, Sura grew up in the large trading city of Frontier with her mother, a modestly succesful novelist and historian. Her childhood was spent reading and writing countless wild and imaginative stories about mythical far away lands, full of whinsy and adventure.

At the age of 10, she began to manifest an exceptionally unique Essense ability; she could manifest written words in the air - and on any physical surface - simply by thinking them!

Encouraged by her mother to always embrace who she was, Sura used her special talent and vibrant imagination to become a successful novelist of her own as an adult. Her true passion lay in journalism however; her "word weaving" meant that she could express her passionate opinions in writing faster than most could speak or transcribe them.

She joined the Trelin Direct during its formative years a decade ago, alongside her childhood friends Eleni Geni and Toro Bonto. With Toro off exploring the world with his fancy new Picture Capture Box, Sura has dutifully taken charge of the publication as its newest Editor-In-Chief.

Check in with her at the Trelin Direct headquarters in Hubante should you ever need some information about the latest major happenings and events on the continent - very little ever escapes the Silent Lady's attention.

Watch TNEQL: https://youtube.com/@TNEQL

Our Live DnD show: https://www.twitch.tv/TNEQL

[consultantafrikaabney]

MIDNIGHTROSE: A Reading Series of Poetry and Prose - November 9th

“MidnightRose serves as a vibrant platform that highlights the diverse voices of multigenerational and multicultural writers from the Washington Metropolitan Region and beyond. This initiative is brought to life by Esther Productions Inc., in collaboration with The Institute for African American Writing and The Black Student Fund. The series aims to celebrate the literary talents within the community, showcasing a variety of poetic and prose works that reflect the rich tapestry of experiences and perspectives that define the region.

Attendees of MidnightRose can expect to engage with a dynamic array of award-winning poets and authors, each bringing their unique narratives and artistic expressions to the forefront. The event not only serves as a performance space but also as a gathering that fosters dialogue and connection among writers and audiences alike. By immersing oneself in the powerful words and stories shared during the series, participants are invited to explore themes of identity, culture, and resilience, all of which resonate deeply within the community.

The essence of MidnightRose lies in its ability to inspire and empower individuals through the art of storytelling. As the series unfolds, it creates an atmosphere where creativity flourishes, and the voices of underrepresented writers are amplified. This initiative not only enriches the cultural landscape of the Washington Metropolitan Region but also encourages a deeper appreciation for the literary arts, inviting everyone to partake in the transformative power of poetry and prose.”

For those interested in learning more about this literary event, please feel free to reach out via email at midnightrosereadingseries@gmail.com.

Mr. Kenneth Carroll is a native Washingtonian whose poetry and prose has appeared in Icarus, In Search of Color Everywhere, Bum Rush The Page, Potomac Review, Worcester Review, Obsidian, the Washington Post, Words & Images Journal, Indiana Review, American Poetry: The Next Generation, Beyond the Frontier, Gargoyle, Spirit & Flame, and Penguin Academics Anthology of African American Poetry. His short stories appear in Stress City, (Paycock Press), Children of the Dream, (Simon & Schuster Pocketbooks), Gargoyle Magazine #44, Words and Images Journal of Southern Maine, Full Moon Over K Street, Shooting Star Magazine, The Black Body (7 Stories Press), and the anthology “It’s All Love” Double Day, edited by Marita Golden. He is the 2021 winner of the Blood Orange Review for short fiction.

His book of poetry is entitled So What: for the White Dude Who Said This Ain’t Poetry, Bunny & The Crocodile Press. He has had three of his plays produced, The Mask, Walking to Be Free, and Make My Funk The P-Funk, which Ishmael Reed published in Konch. He is former director of DC WritersCorps and the African American Writers Guild and taught at Duke Ellington School for the Arts, Washington Writers Center and Montgomery County Community College.  He is a former Pushcart Prize nominee for poetry and was a writer for BET’s Story Porch program featuring Ruby Dee and Ossie Davis. He was featured in the Smithsonian Museum of African American Culture exhibit “All the Stories Are True.”  He is the proud father of a daughter and two sons.

Ms. Elizabeth Bruce’s Universally Adored & Other One Dollar Stories was recently released by Vine Leaves Press. Her debut novel, And Silent Left the Place, won Washington Writers’ Publishing House’s Fiction Prize, with ForeWord Magazine and Texas Institute of Letters’ distinctions. She’has published stories in journals and anthologies in the USA and 13 countries.

A veteran teaching artist and arts producer with CentroNía and other schools, her educational book, Theatrical Journey Playbook: Introducing Science to Early Learners through Guided Pretend Play, won or placed in four indie contests. A DC-based native Texan, Elizabeth has received numerous fellowships from the DC Commission on the Arts & Humanities, HumanitiesDC, and the McCarthey Dressman Education Foundation, and studied with Richard Bausch, the late Lee K. Abbott, Janet Peery, John McNally, and Liam Callanan. A Co-Founder of DC’s Sanctuary Theatre, Elizabeth co-hosts Creativists in Dialogue: A Podcast Embracing the Creative Life and its “Theatre in Community” and “Innovators, Artists & Solutions” series.

Ms. Sasa Aakil is a Multimedia Artist, Writer living and working in Rockville, Maryland. She is a potter, painter, poet, print maker, and bassist and served as the 2021 Montgomery County Youth Poet Laureate. Sasa has been featured in the Bethesda Magazine for her work as Youth Poet Laureate. She has also been featured in the Washington Post, as well as on WTOP for her work on the A Man Was Lynched Yesterday Project in 2020. She has shown sculptural and two-dimensional work at the American Poetry Museum and Black Rock Art Center. Sasa is the founder of If All the Trees Were Pens Open Mic and recently published her first chapbook, the culmination of all my despair and the music that saves me. She received a Bachelors of Fine Arts from Howard University in 2024.

[rithebard]

On Thursday; #ChattingWithSherri welcomes #artistandIllustrator who created covers for #Dungeons&Dragons; #LarryElmore on 03/28/24 at 7pm pt; http://tobtr.com/12322532  #interview

[buzzdixonwriter]

The Man Who Ruined Science Fiction (part 2)

Starting with his 1972 anthology Signs And Wonders (note the religious imagery), Roger Elwood began packaging more and more original anthologies for numerous publishers -- and almost never revealing he provided the same service for all their rivals.

Over the next six years he packaged a whopping 60 original anthologies, including a few quality entries (such as Epoch co-edited by Robert Silverberg, the four-volume Continuum series, and the two Frontiers anthologies) but an awful lot of gawdawful dross as well.

At his highwater mark, Elwood bought 25% of all the short fiction published in North America between 1972 and 1976.

At the bottom of the barrel, the joke in fandom at the time said every Elwood original anthology contained “one good story, six mediocre stories, and a Malzberg story.”*

In short, Elwood original anthologies became the sci-fi equivalent of Starbucks or MacDonalds; i.e., there were so many of them they actually competed against themselves.

This did not make either fans or publishers happy.

The fans, because they grew to distrust any original anthologies of the era thus further depressing the market, and the publishers, because instead of delivering the equivalent of another Dangerous Visions each time, Elwood handed over mostly dull, listless material.

This is not to say there weren’t a few pearls in the pig sty, but as Ray Bradbury famously observed, “It’s easy to write a good short story, just write one short story a week for a year.  Nobody can write 52 bad short stories in a row.”

While Roger Elwood accepted a lot of first time or tyro writers’ stories instead soliciting better, more established authors, relatively few of those writers went on to significant literary careers.

They can’t all be winners, true, but overall Elwood’s choices reflect a lack of dedication to the craft.

But wait!  There’s more!

In addition to burning fans and publishers, Elwood also faced challenges from various contributors who felt they didn’t received their promised compensation.  With the original anthology market imploding through his own damn fault, in 1976 Elwood launched Odyssey a sci-fi magazine that lived up to the standards the field came to expect of him by lasting only two issues.

But that flame out fades from view in the epic black hole of Laser Books, a 58-volume series of sci-fi novels published from 1975 to 1977.

Elwood sought, in his own inarticulate manner, the literary equivalent of Star Wars; i.e., fast paced upbeat sci-fi adventures of the space opera variety, 50-60,000 words in length, with no more sex and violence than in the Lucas film.

He persuaded Harlequin, the world famous Canadian romance publishers, to commit to the project at least three years before Lucas’ film hit the screens.

Pity, because if he waited for Star Wars and Close Encounters Of The Third Kind and Damnation Alley (all released in 1977), he could then offer writers a perfect trifecta of the type of novels he wanted.

There’s absolutely a market for short, easy to read sci-fi adventure novels that combine classic pulp with modern-but-not-too-modern sensibilities.

Go ask Tor.

© Buzz Dixon

* Barry Malzberg is an incredibly prolific and on occasion remarkably talented novelist and critic who’s written at least 77 novels in the sci-fi / crime / porn genres plus enough short stories to choke Jabba the Hut.  His prolificness stands at odds with his talent, and when he connects (as he did with his novels The Falling Astronauts and Beyond Apollo) he leaves an indelible mark.  When he doesn’t connect…well, he just whiffs.  In addition to his fiction, his 1982 book Engines Of The Night remains one of the finest collections of science fiction criticism ever assembled.  How did such an edgy and controversial writer get teamed up with Elwood?  I’m guessing the fact they’re both Jersey boys may explain it…

[zainabk-grad604-51]

Week 3: 20 Sources

For this week's SDL, I collected 20 sources based on these topics.

Articles & Journals / Magazines

Looser, D. (2017). Viewing Time and the Other: Visualizing Cross-Cultural and Trans-Temporal Encounters in Lisa Reihana’s in Pursuit of Venus [infected]. Theatre Journal69(4), 449-475. doi:10.1353/tj.2017.0065.

Feast, L. Vogels, C. (2021). “Opening the door”: An authentic approach to decolonizing arts education in Aotearoa/New Zealand. Art, Design & Communication in Higher Education, 20(1), 65–82. https://doi-org.ezproxy.aut.ac.nz/10.1386/adch_00030_1

Horrocks, R. (2016). The arts in New Zealand: A changing field of forces. New Zealand Sociology, 31. 132-145. librarysearch.aut.ac.nz/vufind/EdsRecord/sih,120836618

Pankl, L. Blake, K. (2012). Made in Her Image: Frida Kahlo as Material Culture. Material Culture, 44(2), 1–20. http://www.jstor.org/stable/24396670

Turkheimer, F.E. Fagerholm, E.D. Bettelheim, E. Liu, J. Dazzan, P. Loggia, M.L. (2022). The art of pain: A quantitative color analysis of the self-portraits of Frida Kahlo. In: Frontiers in Human Neuroscience, 16. https://doi.org/10.3389/fnhum.2022.1000656

Parr, E. (2021). Toi Tū Toi Ora: Contemporary Māori Art. ArtAsiaPacific, 122, 76. https://librarysearch.aut.ac.nz/vufind/EdsRecord/vth,148897036

Lu, Y. Yang, G. (2008). Decorative rejuvenation — Aesthetic analysis of “Memphis” design. 2008 9th International Conference on Computer-Aided Industrial Design and Conceptual Design. https://doi.org/10.1109/CAIDCD.2008.4730740

Fornari, D. Lzicar, R. Owens, S. Renner, M. Scheuermann, A. Schneemann, P.J. (2021). Introduction: New Perspectives on Swiss Graphic Design. Design Issues. Winter 2021, 37, 4-9. 10.1162/desi_e_00620

Page, C. (2019). In Praise of Drop Shadows. BOMB, 150, 149–159. https://www.jstor.org/stable/26876387

Hayes, C. (2023). Curating Art in Challenging Times. Art Monthly, 467, 39-40. https://search-ebscohost-com.ezproxy.aut.ac.nz/login.aspx?direct=true&db=vth&AN=163994903&site=ehost-live&scope=site

Droitcour, B. (2021). Living With, Dying From. Art in America, 109(5), 70–75. https://search-ebscohost-com.ezproxy.aut.ac.nz/login.aspx?direct=true&db=vth&AN=151869132&site=ehost-live&scope=site.

Theo, K. (2021). Journey into Colour. Aesthetica, 104, 64–75. https://search-ebscohost-com.ezproxy.aut.ac.nz/login.aspx?direct=true&db=vth&AN=153889539&site=ehost-live&scope=site.

Crawford, A. (1997). Ideas and Objects: The Arts and Crafts Movement in Britain. Design Issues, 13(1), 15–26. https://doi.org/10.2307/1511584

Parkinson, G. (2006). Surrealism and Politics: Interpretation, Determinism and Art History [Review of Surrealist Art and Thought in the 1930s: Art, Politics, and the Psyche; Obscure Objects of Desire: Surrealism, Fetishism, and Politics; Surrealism, Politics and Culture, by S. Harris, J. Malt, R. Spiteri, & D. LaCoss]. Oxford Art Journal, 29(2), 306–312. http://www.jstor.org/stable/3841021

Images

FridaKahlo.org. (n.d). Self Portrait Along the Boarder Line Between Mexico and the United States, 1932. https://www.fridakahlo.org/self-portrait-along-the-boarder-line.jsp

Johnson Witehira. (n.d.). Whakarare. https://www.johnsonwitehira.studio/whakarare

New Zealand History. (n.d.). Hinetitama by Robyn Kahukiwa. https://nzhistory.govt.nz/media/photo/hinetitama-robyn-kahukiwa

In Pursuit of Venus. (n.d.). About the Work. https://www.inpursuitofvenus.com/about

FridaKahlo.org. (n.d). Henry Ford Hospital, 1932. https://www.fridakahlo.org/henry-ford-hospital.jsp

[jessicafurseth]

Vegan cheese: The final frontier - Wicked Leeks by Riverford Organic

At long last, there are vegan cheese out there that would fool you into thinking it's dairy - I tried some, and the legends are true! We are finally there - there are vegan cheeses out there that compete with dairy on flavour alone. But while non-dairy cheese is miles ahead on climate and emissions credentials, there are still a few sustainability niggles. For Wicked Leeks, the magazine from Riverford Organic, I went on a flavourful adventure to learn how not all vegan cheeses are created equal.

[thereasonsimbroke]

Game Industry Shakeup Microsoft's Acquisition Approved

In Ep. 573, Scott and I discuss Microsoft's acquisition of Activision Blizzard allowed to proceed, Cartoon Network Studios merging with Warner Bros. Animation, The Flash movie's box office performance declines further, and more!

Chapters 0:00:14 Introduction 0:01:12 Video Game Preservation: Availability of Classic Games 0:09:37 Digitizing Retro Gaming Magazines for Preservation 0:12:03 Concerns about companies buying up third-party developers 0:16:14 Worries about the future of gaming due to company mergers 0:23:28 Disney's Hulu rebranding as an anime and animation destination 0:26:47 The competition and challenges of streaming services in the anime industry 0:30:16 Potential UPS Strike and its Impact on Consumers 0:40:03 Film Preservation Destroyed for Tax Credit 0:43:19 Warner Brothers Discovery's Misguided Decisions 0:47:41 More Failure with James Gunn's Superman Film Casting Backlash 0:53:32 Lack of Appeal in Casting Choices and Writing Skills 0:58:19 Brokette Block: Games, Reading, and Watching 1:02:08 True Ending and Epilogue in Sonic Frontiers 1:07:41 Behind the Scenes at Ventura Safari 1:16:50 Pricing concerns and grading policies for collectibles 1:17:30 Comic Grading and Polybags 1:20:40 Kingdom Hearts 2: A Timeless Favorite

FOLLOW/SUPPORT SCOTT: @pandanime (Scott's Twitter) @LazyGamingGuys (LGG Twitter) LazyGamingGuys' Channel (YouTube) Ronin Council (SoundCloud) As always, we appreciate your constructive Feedback, Suggestions, and Questions. You can also leave us an audio question on SpeakPipe. Thank you for the continued love and support! Enjoy the show. Daniel Podcast Awards 2019 || Games & Hobbies (Winner) Podcast Awards 2017 - 2018, 2020 - 2022 || Games & Hobbies (Nominated) Official Site FOLLOW US: - Twitter | @ReasonsImBroke and @TRIBPod - Instagram - Pinterest - Threads - Tumblr - Discord Lounge - YouTube Channel SUBSCRIBE: Apple Podcasts / Spotify / Google Podcasts / iHeartRadio / TuneIn / Overcast SUPPORT THE POD: Getting $1's worth of entertainment and information each month? Support us on Patreon or visit our TeePublic storefront! SPREAD THE WORD: If you're enjoying the show, please head over to iTunes and leave us a rating and a review! Each one helps new Brokettes discover the podcast. Contribute to the Hero Initiative to offer assistance to comic creators facing difficulties. Show your support for the AFSP's efforts by donating to the Autumn Snyder Tribute Fund. CREDITS: Opening/Closing Jingles - Alex Scott Show Logo By - Opanaldiova

The latest episode of The Reasons I'm Broke Podcast!