1000 results for “that_one_guy”
I just read Chuck Grassley filed for reelection. If he wins, he'd be 101 at the end of his term. The last 10 years have really highlighted the need for age restrictions on elected office. It's not just one side of the political aisle, it's all sides.
If you're being pushed out by your staff in a wheelchair, are non verbal and being told how to vote, are you really representing you constituents?
I've got a cat in the lap situation times two. I told them I need to go to bed, someone has to work to keep them in tubs of Temptation treats. They said with my insomnia what's the rush.
I'm pretty sure talking cats are related to my lack of sleep, from cats in my lap. It's a vicious cycle. 😂
I just had a strange interaction at work and would like some insight from others.
While leaving the main building, I opened and held a door for someone. They stared at me like I was an alien or something, so I let the door go and walked away. As I passed they walked to the door and inside.
My question is, am I stuck in the past? My mom was pretty strict on being courteous and respectful so I've always opened and held doors. Is it just not wanted anymore?
Want to watch FedEx back into my wife's car this morning? Wrecked cars pair great with upcoming dog surgery...
Luckily FuckEx will be paying.
Good morning Mastodon!
I know AI is bad but check out this Kagi Assistant report. It will be the only time I'll ever post something like this.
What the live account data showsPulling the account straight from Mastodon's API (rather than relying only on the screenshots) gives a clean picture [1]:
| Field | Value |
|---|---|
| Handle | @[email protected] |
| Display name | Liane Massie |
| Account ID | 116779337766174368 |
| Created | 2026‑06‑19 (shown as "Jun 18") |
| Followers / Following | 11 / 110 |
| Posts | 8 |
| Bot flag | false (self‑declared, meaningless) |
| Profile fields | none |
| Avatar / header alt text | empty |
| App used | "Mastodon for Android" |
That 110‑following / 11‑followers ratio is the signature of a follow‑back spam account, not a person with an audience.
The bio and posts are the tellThe bio — "A woman who believes in kindness, resilience, and continuous growth… meaningful conversations… people who value authenticity and respect…" — is generic LLM‑flavoured filler with zero specifics (no location, job, links, pronouns) [1].
The 8 posts break down as [2]:
@elborro Hey👋 can you put me through. — sent as unlisted, to a real infosec professional, with no preceding conversation.That last one is the payload. A stranger replying "Hey 👋 can you put me through" to someone they've never spoken to is the standard cold open of a romance / "pig‑butchering" (investment) scam, not normal fediverse behaviour. The generic bio + stock‑looking photo + padding boosts + one weird opener is the exact template.
It's not a lone account — it's a clusterThe following list is the most damning part. Alongside normal accounts, it contains several throwaway/new accounts created in the same window with near‑identical AI bios [3]:
@johnryanwatts (created 2026‑06‑14): "I'm someone who believes in honesty, kindness, hard work, and building meaningful connections with people from all walks of life… life, technology, business, current events, and personal growth."@gregmendo (2026‑06‑29): a dating‑profile bio — "Looking for someone who laughs easily… ready to create our own little adventures together🥰"@Guy_489, @hawkmoth, @lastquarter, @ChristWilliam, @sayk — all made within days, most with no posts or no avatar.Same template, same "kindness/authenticity/meaningful connections" language, same time frame = one operator running a batch of sock‑puppet profiles, not organic users who happen to share a writing style.
Notably, it followed @elborro and @onuSBonus — i.e. it is deliberately scraping and targeting the infosec/tech crowd specifically, which is why it landed on the user's radar.
The individual posts show 0 replies / 0 boosts / 0 favs for the spam replies [2], so the "engagement" the account appears to have isn't coming from real interaction — it's manufactured:
Everything points the same way: this is a fake, AI‑assisted scam profile (likely a "pig‑butchering"/romance‑fraud front), part of a small coordinated network, that mass‑follows infosec people and opens with a nonsensical "can you put me through" DM‑bait line. The stated hypothesis is correct — it's fake, and the "engagement" is synthetic.
Practical handling:
@johnryanwatts, @gregmendo, the empty shells) and report those too.One caveat: the attached screenshots couldn't be inspected pixel‑by‑pixel here, so the image‑specific observations (e.g. the exact banner/avatar content) are based on the account's live media files and the API, which are authoritative for the profile data and post history regardless.
References
We need a leader who knows
that money means class
with an eye for a peach-perfect
piece of ass
Not a total dumb-cluck
just one of the guys
Let’s give stupidity a prize
Russell Wilson believes Jaylon Warren could win Offensive Player of the Year: “When you have a running back like Jaylen Warren that catches the ball in the flat, he’s a bowling ball. He’s not gonna be tackled on the first attempt. Once again, the resurgence of the running back. I think something’s going on in Pittsburgh. I think they’re doing a good job. Jaylen Warren’s one of those guys that could win Offensive Player of the Year, in my opinion.” #Steelers #NFL
Angry Metal Guy 🤘 Carnation – Symphony in Flesh Review: Death metal is one of my favorite things on Earth. One of the coolest and most invigorating innovations in heavy music, death metal’s focus on rhythm, groove, heft, and serrated distortions in every instrument calls to something primal and primordial. Belgian five-banger Carnation understand that primal call perhaps too well, taking a classic formula that… http://dlvr.it/TVtXMk LinkInBio for More 🤘 #AngryMetalGuy #HeavyMetal #Metal
Well that was certainly a day. We got in to see The Jester who, as it turns out, got their title ironically. He is The Regent's accountant, and is every accountant joke rolled into one elf. I didn't know elves came in "boring" but you live, you learn I guess.
We met him at his office, which was the Owlbear's idea of hell. There was art on the walls that could be found in any given 80s motel, the kind of florescent lighting that gives you a headache, and - I swear this is true - a piped in soft jazz version of Slipknot's album Iowa.
After being asked to take a seat by a clockwork secretary, we had to wait half an hour just to see the guy. When we were finally ushered in, Linna tried bad cop to Robyn's good cop, to which The Jester responded with… silence.
"I've got centuries, you little… things. I can wait until you're dust in the wind, or we can treat each other like civilized sentients. The choice is yours."
I am such a sucker for Nordic music. Toss in an æ, an ø, or even an ð, and I am right there, all alert and happy. Your þ is a tiny treat, and I am an excitable puppy wagging my tail to the beat of your traditional percussive instrument whose name I don’t actually know. So when I saw a project called Eivør submitted to us for review, I can’t say I hesitated much. I did briefly watch the video linked below first, so I knew that this Faroese project, from singer and songwriter Eivør Pálsdóttir, blends electronica and traditional Nordic themes together in Tungl, her eleventh solo release since 2000. Over the course of her career, Eivør has written and performed folk music, jazz, classical, pop, and more, and last year signed to Nuclear Blast Records, who describe her as “one of the most innovative Nordic artists of her generation.” That’s a lot of influences, an impressive career, and one very excitable reviewer/puppy. So how does it all come together?
It comes together quite well, but not in the way I initially expected. Truthfully, I’m always hoping I’ll discover the next Forndom with this style, but Eivør trends more ritualistic through the use of orchestral synths and electronica-style percussion. Of course, Eivør’s voice does most of the heavy lifting; synths give her a dark room to work in, but her vocal melodies, with songs sung in both Faroese and English, are the real highlight. The result is that Tungl acts as a soundscape both chilling and moving, and an album that is at times cinematic and at others deeply focused and introspective.
And the highlight of Tungl absolutely is Pálsdóttir’s singing. Even if you don’t care for the electric distortions of “Og mánin græt,” Eviør’s layered singing acts as a guide through the static and haze, powerful, crisp, and clear. The repetitive instrumentation and Faroese lyrics build a dense fog to get lost in, and it works very well. “Verjugarðar” brings in some of that cinematic scope I alluded to earlier, where the synths feel more like strings and Eivør’s high notes are a siren’s call. On the English-language side, “Everyone But Me” trends traditional, opening with little more than a quiet piano and beautiful, moving singing. In a way, Tungl is a hard album to describe, because that simplicity really is its core: whether ritualistic, cinematic, or simple, its eponymous lead is at its heart.
In that same sense, one thing I might argue feels missing from Tungl is a sense of depth. Now, this could easily be my limited metal guy worldview, but I can’t help but feel that a lot of Eivør’s ideas imply a wider interpretation than they receive. “Eon” is perhaps a good example, a straightforward ballad that can’t seem to decide if it’s resting on the modern side of dark pop or in Eivør’s traditional roots. It’s only four minutes long, but treads on the same ideas for most of it and feels a bit still compared with other tracks. Tungl is at its strongest, at least to this reviewer’s ears, when it embraces those themes. The sense of ritual, reverence, and culture is so strong on songs like “Hinumegin,” a track that, on paper, appears similar to “Eon,” but lands in a more bombastic, ascendant fashion. “Fangað,” featuring guest vocals from Elinborg Pálsdóttir, is intriguing enough to stand out, but something about the performance doesn’t quite connect. This is perhaps a drawback of the fairly straightforward nature of Eivør’s approach—not connecting with a single element of the songwriting often means the entire track feels flat.
Fortunately, I connect with a lot more of Tungl than I don’t, and I have immense respect for the project that’s created it. As an expression of an individual—and, to some extent, a culture that most of the world does not get to experience—Eivør succeeds and shows off the experience of its author. Tungl is atmospheric, intense, and enjoyable. It was, for me, a hit-or-miss experience, but it’s hard not to enjoy the album as a whole. Certainly, it’s enough for me to look forward to seeing what Pálsdóttir does next, and to better explore her past work as well.
Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast Records
Websites: eivor.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/eivormusic
Releases Worldwide: October 16th, 2026
One of the things I hated most about the 2005-2010 workplace transition in Silicon Valley was all the Wall Street rats leaving their sinking Mortgage crisis ship.
Harvard, Princeton... all the old white male money kids flooded into SF looking for someplace to launder daddy money.
Remember how 1984 also gave us the Macintosh ad, the hammer through Big Brother's screen? It was sold by the guy who went on to build the tightest walled garden in consumer computing.
The attention-seeking leader type was there in the 80s; he just hadn't won yet. TRS80 and Commodore were way ahead of that arrogant asshat. Commodore outsold everybody (C64 is still the best-selling single computer model ever) and the man who ran it was an Auschwitz survivor from Łódź who learned repair in the US Army and sold typewriters in the Bronx. "Computers for the masses, not the classes" was his line. Tandy was a Fort Worth leather-goods company selling through Radio Shack strip malls.
Apple was knock-off crap. Seriously.
Then some MIT/Harvard knobs released Visicalc and Apple got a foothold in corporate offices, and some Sunnyvale elitists wrote everyone out of the story that mattered.
The quiet professionals were the vast majority, not the whole story, but the obnoxious libertarian loud minority is who the 2010s finance kids chased as their bogus hero.
Bad Actor "“Prometheus”, one of the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted Fugitives engineered malware that “jackpotted” US ATMs, to the tune of ~$40M, then leveraged cryptocurrencies to launder the ill gotten currency.
Crypto analysis boffins detail how transnational criminal group Tren de Aragua executed the scheme.
“Jackpotting” is a cyberattack where bad guys install malware on automated teller machines (ATMs) and force them to dispense cash without debiting any account.
The bad guys employed counterparties with money laundering operations based in Mexico, Colombia, and Venezuela, and the network relied heavily on stablecoins to move the $$ around. https://www.chainalysis.com/blog/ofac-sanctions-tren-de-aragua-crypto-laundering-september-2026/ #Crypto #Cryptocurrencies #Stablecoins #MoneyLaundering #JackPotting #ATMs #TrendeAragua #Malware #Cryptocrime #10MostWanted #FBI #OFAC #Sanctions #CryptoExchange #bitcoin
Hamid Resai, one of the extremist in IRI is in prison
He was charged for spreading "fabricated lies" about the government and officials.
2,5 years ago, he posted some documents claiming that Qalibaf and other former IRGC heads were using their connections to fool members of the parliament to pass laws that benefits them.
Among those in the list of his accusations was Qalibaf, the current speaker of the Majles.
Resaii was later elected into the majlis and keep on pushing for exposure of the multi million dollar embalelment. After the death of Khamenei and the rise of Qalibaf in the vacuume caused by the terror campaign by Israel during the 40 days war, he was stripped off his immunity and charged with "spreading lies* and " helping the enemy".
He is now serving a long sentence in the luxury wing of Evin prison, specially made for the clergyman.
Funny thing is that some opposition figures calling for his release and acting like he is one of the" good guys" in IRI, but in reality, he is part of the worst religious thugs who's fight with Qalibaf is a personal issue, rather than his desire for accountability and justice.
Payton Wilson says Aaron Rodgers has been as humble of a person as it gets being a guy in his stature: “It's been nothing but great. Ever since he got here, he's been as humble as it gets for a guy of that stature. He's always willing to help anyone who asks, and he's been a great teammate and a great presence in the building. His knowledge of the game has been invaluable to everyone. Like I said, he's an incredibly humble person. He's willing to help anyone, and he doesn't carry himself in a way that makes him unapproachable. Having him around has been a blessing, especially for me. Going against him in training camp and practice obviously isn't much fun because he's so good, but it makes the entire defense better. I feel like my understanding of the game has grown just from competing against him and trying to disguise coverages against one of the best to ever do it.” #Steelers #NFL
🫡🇺🇦 In moments like these, words become unnecessary.
They simply place their hands on top of one another. And every one of them knows that right now, standing beside them, are the people they trust with their lives.
In a few minutes, they will head out on a mission.
May that hand always find a brother-in-arms' hand.
May every scout return home.
Godspeed, guys. Take care of yourselves.
#ukraine #ukraineWar #photography #photo #photographie
I watched Disclosure Day
A few weeks ago, I saw that the film was available on Amazon for £9.99 and I asked on Bluesky whether it was worth a look at that price. The consensus was no, and I’m glad I waited because now you can rent it for £5.99, which is more reasonable.
But I wanted to see it, because it’s a Spielberg science fictioner, and I was intrigued – rather than put off – by how much it has divided opinion. Looking back over Spielberg’s filmography, the last one I bothered with was Bridge of Spies, which was over 10 years ago. And although Ready Player One (2018) was science fiction, I gave up on it after about 10 minutes, so it’s not like I’m a committed fan. But Disclosure Day was a Spielberg science fictioner, and I had a feeling. Not enough of a feeling to put up with going to the cinema*, but I was waiting till I could rent it.
And it has indeed divided opinion.
For example, Peter Bradshaw in the Guardian described it as “very enjoyable and entirely ridiculous” in a largely positive review. Simon Mayo called it “an action movie about empathy” with “empathy as a superpower”, and although it is “old fashioned”, it still provides enough Spielberg magic in “this film at this time” that he would want to take the family to see it.
Mark Kermode, on the same podcast, eventually got around to saying these words in approximately this order: “really good popcorn Friday night multiplex pleasing romping adventure movie”—but added that, in 2026, “the action of the third act makes no sense at all” because we’ve all known for years that the Roswell crash and the crop circles are hoaxes, and that to imagine that the world would react in the way it does in the film to the disclosure is “very, very old-fashioned”.
And then there’s the discourse on the socials, which consists of a lot of people complaining that the film represents two hours and twenty minutes of their lives they’re never getting back; complaining about the ending especially.
So that’s my literature survey, and it helps me explain to myself why I wanted to see it. Because, if you know me, you know that:
Listen, I’ve studied Film at Masters level, I’ve published in academic journals, I co-founded the first online Film Studies journal; I’ve taught Film and Media Studies, and you’d be forgiven for thinking I was one of those film guys. But I’m not. And I can remember precisely when it was I completely lost interest in the modern film industry. It was when Marvel announced they had 38 more superhero films in the pipeline, at a time when I was already thoroughly sick to the back teeth of superhero movies.
(I’m also aware that a lot of the interesting stuff getting made these days is in the horror genre, but I have almost no interest in that genre. It has rarely delivered for me.)
Anyway. I realise that the reason I wanted to see Disclosure Day was because I had the sense that it was old-fashioned, that it is the kind of film Spielberg used to make in the 1970s, pre-ET, even, and I quite fancied seeing something like that. A sort-of sequel to Close Encounters, as a lot of people have pointed out. Or, more unkindly, it’s exactly the same plot.
So to the film itself. I’ll say this about it. It was indeed two hours and twenty minutes – way too long – but even though I am Mr Ninety Minutes, I didn’t really notice. I felt it motored along quite nicely, that there were no longeurs, and I wasn’t bored or thrashing about with my usual frustration.
A confession: I more or less completely missed the background plot of nuclear standoff over North Korea. I did notice the people in the supermarket were in a frenzy, but I completely ignored what the various news anchors were saying—in much the same way as I’ve been ignoring news anchors for about 20 years.
The film isn’t perfect. The ending felt peremptory—a bit rushed, even in something that comes in well over two hours. And obviously our contemporary media landscape is such that the disclosure wouldn’t land like that. But the point of the film is to remind us that we are better than we currently are being. The message is, do better. The message is, remember that empathy is not a weakness, like the Ayn Rand-pilled billionaire tech bros say.
Good old-fashioned fun, with the Greys straight out of Whitley Strieber via The X Files, and the Roswell crash and the crop circles used as short cuts—no need to go over this old ground again, but you remember this, right?
The film forgets about the character of Jane (Eve Hewson), who, it turns out is not so much the whistleblower Daniel Kellner’s (Josh O’Connor) girlfriend so much as a plot device. Margaret Fairchild (Emily Blunt) also had a boyfriend (Wyatt Russell), who turned out to be untrustworthy, and another plot device.
Some underdeveloped characters, then, which is not a surprise because this is a movie and not a TV show.
The aliens, too, aren’t very alien, and I feel like science fiction has moved beyond these basic portrayals of the Greys with their Communion type experiments. On the other hand, old-fashioned science fiction 1970s fun, and I think the film delivered that. And the scene with the train and the car was properly gripping.
So I enjoyed it, which is so rare for me when it comes to movies.
____________________________________________________
*I don’t know, but imagine that there’s a risk these days that when you go to the cinema that not only are people going to be talking and using their phones, and not only will the venue smell of rancid fat, but that people will also be filming themselves for the socials. Imagining all this makes me shudder, which is before we get to how much it would cost to be in there surrounded by these types of people. I would rather be vivisected by aliens.
#disclosureDay #emilyBlunt #film #movies #ScienceFiction #SF #Spielberg #stevenSpielberg
i have no wish to 'convert' or 'convince' AI-art-creators to stop doing/creating AI art. instead i wish for them to go away and leave me+us alone. i see it the same as bigoted people! i'm not here to educate u, please leave
seeing some art communities try to make room / welcome / fix ai-art-creators. to me it says "goodbye Lu". goodbye
luckily this seems to be a pretty rare view but its more common in laptop/computer-based communities (surprise surprise)
yes we are all trying to figure out what AI taking over the world and our jobs means. that doesnt mean we let it into our art spaces
if u turn up to one of our events in london doing something AI, no one is gonna stop u, but i think you'll be swept away by all the human-as-possible collaboration going on instead and no one will be interested in your AI art project
(yes yes yes i'm using the term "AI" to mean "big bad AI" dont shoot the messenger and dont be that reply guy)
Lanterns – Season 1 | TV Review
I had a really good time with DC Studios first venture into live action TV in the DC Universe. Lanterns ruled, and I just want more of these characters.
Everyone knew going into the show that John Stewart (Aaron Pierre) was going to the main Green Lantern of the new DCU with Hal Jordan (Kyle Chandler) taking more of a backseat role. Jordan was the veteran in this lived-in universe, and Stewart would be taking a much more prominent role moving forward.
They stated in the lead up to this show that it would be more True Detective than CGI-blobfest, and they absolutely delivered on that beat. There were multiple mysteries throughout the series that all fed into the larger mystery that we learned about in episode one: Who killed Hal Jordan?
The show did such a great job in showing what makes both Stewart and Jordan tick, and really showed off the chemistry between Pierre and Chandler. They teased the possibility in multiple ways, but I sure hope we get Jordan brought back to life so there’s more Kyle Chandler to go around.
Sure, I could sit here and moan about how there wasn’t enough “Green Lanterning” in the show, because I do wish there was some more of it. I won’t let it diminish what I thought was a good show that I had a great time watching every week.
I can’t wait to see John Stewart, Hal Jordan, Sinestro, and Guy Gardner show up in the next adventure. For at least two of them, that will be next summer’s Man of Tomorrow.
Lanterns is another great entry in the DCU, and I can’t wait to see Clayface in a few weeks to see what’s next.
#DCComics #DCStudios #DCUniverse #DCU #HalJordan #JohnStewart #Lanters #TV #TVReview
After Maze Runner I watched the sequel.
It's a post-apocalyptic fast zombie movie with teenagers who don't need to hydrate or brush their teeth.
Usually when a movie has a group of people in it, everybody has a special skill so there can be interesting puzzles or character developments. But this movie avoids all of that by focusing on the main guy while the others are mostly off screen. Do they even have names? One of them is a girl but that also doesn't affect the plot.
Lame.
“‘Scenius’ stands for the intelligence and the intuition of a whole cultural scene. It is the communal form of the concept of the genius.”*…
The Hope & Anchor in Islington, a notable pub rock venueZachary Hastings Hooper on Mark Wilkerson‘s Pub Rock, an appreciation of a now largely forgotten legacy…
The history of popular music is one of continual evolution, with one generation inspired by and then replaced by the next. Think the Beatles and Rolling Stones usurping their idols Buddy Holly and Muddy Waters. In the U.K., conventional wisdom holds that the pretension and precision of early 1970s prog rock acts like Yes and Genesis were smashed by the intentional amateurism and outrage of later-decade punk rockers such as the Sex Pistols and the Clash. This is perhaps best represented by the image of Johnny Rotten’s “I Hate Pink Floyd” t-shirt.
Pub Rock (Bloomsbury), a new book by Mark Wilkerson, biographer of Pete Townshend and Thunderclap Newman, shines some light on the overlooked genre of pub rock that catalyzed the shift from prog to punk. Wilkerson traces the genre’s birth in London pubs in the early seventies and its gestation of the world-shattering punk and New Wave scenes that followed.
I’m the audience for this book. As a teenager honing his musical tastes in the late eighties, I was introduced, by MTV and college radio, to the sounds of angry young men like Elvis Costello, Nick Lowe, and Graham Parker. Digging into their back catalogs, I discovered that Lowe especially was deeply intertwined with something called pub rock; his old band, Brinsley Schwarz, had been a major player in that scene. At the same time, I realized that Stiff Records—home to Lowe, Costello, and Parker, as well as the Damned and Madness—was run by two pub rock managers [see here]. In a sense, I’ve been waiting for this book for decades. And now that it’s here, I’m happy to dust off some old records while cueing up some new (to me) selections.
Wilkerson characterizes pub rock as “simply music that was played in pubs. A diverse mix was represented there: Roots rock, country, R&B, soul and rock’n’roll—both the good-time variety and the harder-edged stuff.” Unlike the sounds dominating airwaves and filling stadiums, pub rock was unadorned and earnest. It was neither glam nor grandiose.
While sonically similar to more mainstream rock and roll, pub rock had a slyly subversive allure. These seemingly square guys (yes, they are all guys) were about to birth punk. Every budding music snob tries to earn their bona fides with obscure knowledge. So learning that the dude behind “Cruel to Be Kind” had a previous professional life and that “(What’s So Funny ’Bout) Peace Love and Understanding” was a cover gave me an undeserved sense of superiority.
Pub Rock is part of the 33 ⅓ Genre series of primers on musical subgenres. It hews to the imprint’s mission, offering a quick, accessible entry point to a genre with little or no knowledge required, just curiosity. Like any good synopsis of a genre or musical scene, it sends the reader off to their favorite streamer or record store in search of a new listen or three.
In the age of the algorithm, we’re accustomed to being told, “If you like X, you’ll like Y.” However, snapshots like Wilkerson’s go beyond the “what” to tell you why you should add Dr. Feelgood or Brinsley Schwarz to your playlist.
As the book’s title indicates, the scene grew around a series of pubs in London. Groups like the Rolling Stones, the Yardbirds, and the Band strongly influenced the nascent pub rock bands, but as Wilkerson notes, pub rock arose as big-name British acts were increasingly focused on selling out stadiums in America, and economic pressures were closing the venues that sustained the sixties scenes. Pubs, which had historically featured jazz acts, gave new bands opportunities to hone their skills and build followings. Wilkerson posits that intimate venues forced bands to up their game: proximity to Carlsberg-swilling audiences meant that you had to play your instruments and entertain the crowd without hiding behind light shows and heavy amplification.
The pub rock movement yielded a couple of minor hits, notably Ace’s “How Long,” now a staple of yacht rock radio. But many of its key figures became leaders in the punk and New Wave era. Ian Dury from Kilburn and the High Roads became the iconic leader of the Blockheads, while John Mellor from the 101ers became the even more iconic Joe Strummer of the Clash. Ace’s Paul Carrack had chart-topping success with both Squeeze and Mike + the Mechanics. The aforementioned Lowe went on to chart success as a solo artist, producer, and songwriter. Parker and Dave Edmunds enjoyed long careers. And pub rock’s DIY ethos—finding new places to play, hauling your own gear, building audiences from scratch—directly inspired the punk and New Wave scenes that followed.
It’s been said the Velvet Underground and the Ramones only sold a few copies of their debut albums but everyone who bought them started a band. It could be suggested that, similarly, everyone who encountered Eggs Over Easy or Brinsley Schwarz at the Tally Ho did the same. Artists as diverse as the Sex Pistols, Costello, Madness, and the Stranglers trace their roots to pub rock shows…
“Punk’s Pub Crawl,” from @ctrrelpol-washu.bsky.social.
For more, and videos of exemplary pub rock performances, see “Raising the bar: the chaotic story of pub rock.”
And for more listening suggestions, see “A beginner’s guide to pub rock in five essential albums.”
###
As we give credit where credit is due, we might recall that it was on this date in 1976 the one of the core pub rock bands, Dr. Feelgood, scored their only No.1 UK album when their live LP Stupidity went to the top of the charts– the first ever live album to go to No.1 in the UK chart in its first week of release.
Hear it here.
#art #BrinsleySchwarz #culture #DrFeelgood #ElvisCostello #GrahamParker #history #music #NickLowe #pubRock #Punk #rock #rockAndRoll #StiffRecords #stupidity
TODAY IS CANADIAN THANKSGIVING 🦃
As an American, today is only Monday (my Thanksgiving is still a long ways away), but still, I like to get into the spirit of things.
So…
What am I thankful for?
I’m thankful for all the cool people and super-nerdy music junkies here on Mastadon that have been geeking out with your old pal Ape since the beginning.
This is a fun place to be, a fun place to get to know like minded #vinyl and #music nerds, and a cool place to see what YOURE digging lately, and what YOU guys have in YOUR collections.
It’s a great place of comfort and fun for me.
So…
Let’s give away some free music.
It’s been a while.
Below are some free digital download codes for some albums by The Moles, John Carpenter, The Jesus And Mary Chain, and one “mystery” one.
First come first served.
If they don’t work, you’re too slow.
Happy Canadian Thanksgiving from yer friendly neighborhood Vinyl Ape.
🦧
🦃
🇨🇦
Interview with big hitter cricketer Chris Lynn, now ambassador to health food brand Soul Origin
If you’ve entered a food court at one of your better local shopping centres, you’re sure to have come across the name Soul Origin. Established in Sydney in 2011, now 15 years on, there are over 130 Soul Origin outlets across Australia, all serving quick, nutritious meals as well as premium specialty beverages.
Highlights from the Soul Origin menu include the new delilcious premium paninis: the Salami Classico and Mortadella Pesto.
The Salami panini is packed with fennel-and-garlic salami, ripe tomato, kalamata olives, crunchy pickles, and fresh rocket, all dressed lightly in a creamy aioli, then press-toasted until golden and crisp. It’s lunchtime sorted, really.
The Mortadella Pesto, meanwhile, is all premium mortadella, creamy bocconcini cheese, fresh rocket, and basil pesto layered together and pressed warm inside a crispy toasted panini. Let me tell you, I’m of Italian origin myself and have got to say, these are some of the freshest tasting coldcuts I’ve tried.
Also new to the Soul Origin menu are their Hidden Gems, delicious potato treats that are crispy to eat fresh out of the S.O. oven – and even hold their crispness half an hour or so later. Seriously. These gems are about as ‘fast food’ as Soul Origin gets, really, with everything else on their menu a delightful bite of nutrition.
And it’s not just health-conscious shoppers who have cottoned on to the Soul Origin ethos, big-name sports folk have as well, with big-name cricketer Chris Lynn joining an ambassador lineup that already includes Matildas footballer Ellie Carpenter and rugby champs Jaime Chapman and Jarome Luai.
Chris has recently put his thumbs-up to the new Salami Classico and Mortadella Pesto options, both being dubbed the ‘Big Hitter’ meals.
Here, Cream chats with Chris Lynn about all things cricket and all things healthy and noms.
Interview questions by Antonino Tati
Hi Chris. What’s one great thing you love about playing cricket professionally?
The travel is unbeatable, but it’s the people you meet along the way and the smiles you put on people’s faces that’s the most rewarding.
As a kid and a teenager, you would have been in regular training for cricket. Did this mean keeping an eye on a healthy diet, too?
To be honest, as a kid you can eat whatever you want and you get away with it but as I’ve gone through the journey of a professional athlete my diet has become more and more important.
Do you wish you had an outlet such as Soul Origin back then; to go to for healthy meals?
It’s a no-brainer that I wish I had the option of Soul Origin when I was growing up, so for sure.
What are some of the current highlights on the Soul Origin menu that you really like?
The highlight is the Big Hitter meal!
The new Soul Origin ‘Big Hitter Meal’ (just $16.90 includes Salami Classico – pictured above – or Mortadella Pesto panini, as well as Hidden Gems, and Chili Mayo) is clearly a big hit with cricketer Chris Lynn.
When you guys are touring for international matches, who in the team takes the longest to get ready in the morning, and what are they actually doing in there?
Being on tour is a very interesting place but I would have to say the Caribbean boys definitely take the longest to get ready.
Who has the worst taste in music on the team bus, and have you ever secretly skipped their track?
Worst taste is music, ummm… that’s a tough one because there are a lot of different cultures in the change room. So I get proactive and bring the speaker in myself therefore it’s my music!
Who has the worst diet and what cheeky thing do they eat?
Worst diet? Look, without throwing anyone under the bus we all have a sweet tooth now and again, don’t we?
Very diplomatic of you. If you had to pick one teammate to be stuck on a deserted island with, who would that be?
Iit would have to be Michael Neser. A South African-born, tough-as-nails guy who is someone you want in your corner.
And on that desert island, you’re only allowed one particular item from the Soul Origin menu; what would that be?
One item from the menu! If it’s not the Big Hitter meal, it’s the chicken schnitzel salad, topped off with a mango fruit blend.
For more information of what’s on the Soul Origin menu, visit soulorigin.com.au or pop out to one of their 130+ outlets across Australia.
Going Bananas: we’re seeing a lot of this fabulous ingredient around this season
Bedtime Stories: Let’s get adventurous, honey, let’s get adventurous
Spring Racing Season 2026 is officially on: This year’s Do’s and Don’ts
Tips for Making a Calm Study Space as an Online Grad Student
Why High-Performing Professionals Are Trading Jet Lag for Slow Coastal Travel
#ANTONINOTATI #australianCricket #BigHitterMeal #chrisLynn #CREAMMAGAZINE #cricket #cricketers #SalamiClassico #SoulOrigin #SPORTS
X-Men Origins Wolverine with Grant Stoye
Wolverine is the best there is at what he does, and what he does is get stabbed, shot, and set on fire before shrugging it off and asking where the nearest bar is. His healing factor makes him the only character in comics who can have a terrible day, a worse day, and a questionable haircut, and still be back to normal by Tuesday. It’s easily the most relatable power in the Marvel universe, provided you’ve ever tried to recover from a long weekend.
This episode is about X-Men Origins: Wolverine, a game built on the idea that a man with an indestructible skeleton has somehow misplaced his own backstory. He’s got amnesia, a grudge, and a tank top collection that suggests he’s never once been cold. It’s a story about a guy trying to remember who he is, told in a medium where the answer is usually “the one who’s yelling and tearing through everything within reach.”
Helping us sort through the rage and the sideburns is Grant Stoye, the comic writer behind some of your favorite independently released comics and one of the minds behind the currently running Kickstarter for Yule Volume 2. Grant knows a thing or two about Wolverine-level resilience. Independent creators bounce back from deadlines, printer quotes, and shipping costs that would flatten lesser mutants, and their healing factor runs on coffee and optimism. If anyone can tell us whether a hero who survives everything can still keep a story interesting, it’s a guy who makes comics happen with no safety net and a lot of heart.
Bring a bandage you won’t need, hide anything made of paper, and let’s find out whether this one earns its snikt or just growls a lot and leaves.
Learn such things as:
You can find Grant on BlueSky @therealgstoye and of course his website NounAndVerb. And definitely check out the Kickstarter campaign for Yule Volume 2.
If you want to be a guest on the show please check out the Be a A Guest on the Show page and let me know what you’re interested in.
If you want to help support the show check out the Play Comics Patreon page or head over to the Support page if you want to go another route. You can also check out the Play Comics Merch Store.
Play Comics is part of the Gonna Geek Network, which is a wonderful collection of geeky podcasts. Be sure to check out the other shows on Gonna Geek if you need more of a nerd fix.
Play Comics is also part of Art Comedy Pop-Culture Network, which is a long-standing creative organization spawning from a love of Adult Swim. Be sure to check them out for all sorts of entertainment news, commentary, and just plain fun stuff.
You can find Play Comics @playcomics.bsky.social on Bluesky, @playcomicspodcast on Threads, @playcomics on YouTube, or the Play Comics website.
If you want to hear Chris talk with Karrington Martin about the lessons we learned from children’s media and how crazy it is that we’re supposed to just forget about that now that we’re adults, then Sugar, Spite, and Everything is Fine is probably something you should check out.
A big thanks to Escape the Mojoverse and D’ohmance Dawn for the promos today.
Intro/Outro Music by Backing Track, who also has things growing out from between his fingers. But it’s licorice.
#Activision #Marvel #NintendoDS #PS2 #PS3 #PSP #RavenSoftware #Wii #Wolverine #Xbox360
#WritersCoffeeClub Oct 10: Do you have a guiding principle as a writer? What or why not?
It depends upon what I am writing.
In writing fiction I apply the Roger Rabbit Rule: It only works if it is funny.
In writing law I embrace Weasel Prevention Measures: Proposed legislation must be clear concise and reasonable while bearing in mind the punchable kid who always tries to badly reinterpret the rules printed on the inside of the Monopoly box lid.
(See: Todd Blanche.)
In writing answers to civil suits I used The Reasonable Man Approach: The one and only thing a lawyer fears is a reasonable defendant who can’t be intimidated. It also helps quite a bit to be in right and to have a good understanding of motion practice and the law.
In writing patent applications I adhere to The Leonardo da Vinci Method: It is less about the better mousetrap and all about the terms of art.
In writing proposals I am bound by the Request for Proposal: It was organized by the people who will grade it using a grading sheet derived from the RFP. No matter how stupidly the RFP is put together do not under any circumstances deviate from its bad organizing principles.
In writing corporate policies I remain aware that The CEO is Just a Different Kind of Janitor: Corporate policy can’t be enforced if it can’t be understood by both the ignorant git in the corner office and the guy who is mopping his way through graduate school. I based the Internet Use Policy for one of the largest companies in the world on the policy used for elementary school students in Saskatoon, Canada.
In writing WritersCoffeeClub responses I of course Deny the Question: I learned this early on in school for dealing with things like questions of authorial intent for living authors. I spoke with James Michener about whether he intended the women in “Centennial” to be feminists for an American Literature paper. I didn’t directly quote him until the very last paragraph: They evidently appear that way to some readers.
Anyone for Pizza?
(1200 words)
I parked my moped by the huge black gates and looked down the moonlit drive at the enormous edifice of Humber House. I checked my phone. Yes, it was definitely the correct address. There was no bell push visible, so I tried the gates. Then I noticed a huge rusty padlock and chain holding them shut.
Dave at The Pizza Place had laughed. Oh, Maggie, Humber House, yes, it’s a bit scary, but they’re OK. A bit odd but friendly enough. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”
Now, I began to wonder if Dave had ever actually been here as I unpacked my pizza bag. To the right of the gates there was a narrow door in a high wire fence that ran around the estate. I turned the handle, and to my surprise, it opened.
As I walked down the drive, the moon was a bright silver disc hanging in the sky, casting an eerie light on the potholes and long grass at the edges of the old Edwardian asphalt. It was a long way to the house, perhaps a hundred metres. On either side of the drive, extensive lawns with sporadic trees, black silhouettes in the moonlight.
As I walked along the cracked and decaying driveway, clouds crossed the moon, turning a dark amber, making it hard to see where I was going. Thankfully, I could see a glimmer of light from a first-floor window. The inhabitants hadn’t left a phone number, so I was unable to alert them, but the delivery was on time. They ought to be expecting me. Suddenly, as the moon came out once more, bathing the silent lawns with its sinister silver light, I saw something move out of the corner of my eye.
Perhaps fifty metres away, a man, or something like a man, was running across the lawn, very fast and with no sound at all. The figure was completely black. I could see only the shape, like a dense shadow, even though now in full moonlight. I watched the figure run to one side of the house and disappear.
I admit I felt spooked by that as I reached the huge front door. To my surprise, it was ajar, so I plucked up my courage and went into the house. Inside it was cold and damp, and there was an aura of unlived-in-ness. “Hello, pizza delivery,” I called. “Hello, hello,” my voice reverberated in the long dark hallway. Ahead of me I saw a crack of light at a doorway. “Hello, pizza, hello!”
I entered a room with high bookcases against the walls, full of dusty volumes. Light came from a candelabra high above, where only about half of the bulbs were lit. I pulled a book out at random. Sparkling Cyanide by Agatha Christie, complete with the dust jacket showing a wide, flat-bottomed glass containing yellow liquid, presumably sparkling wine or champagne. Behind it, on a black background, was a large green skull. And it still had the price in the corner – 4/6d. I checked the publishing information. ‘The Crime Club. 1945.’ Hmm, a first edition. From my days at Horton’s Antiquarian Books, I recognised it would be a valuable book, save for its mouldy condition. True, I was more of a dogsbody there, making tea and typing invoices, but I’d squirrelled away bits of information.
“Hello, is anybody here?” I called once more. Just then, I was startled by an enormous crash, like a pile of plates being dropped onto a stone floor from several feet. My heart pounded in my chest, and I felt clammy with a cold sweat. I put the pizza bag down and walked through a doorway and into a corridor in the direction of the crash. At the end was another door, slightly open, with light showing through it. “Hello, pizza delivery from The Pizza Place, hello!” I called, trying to steady my nerves. After all, they had ordered pizza. I had every right to be there. Unless I’d made a terrible mistake, of course, and this wasn’t the right house. I felt breathless at the thought. Maybe I should just go?
In the grand kitchen, bare surfaces, a few pots and pans on a stand. I opened a cupboard. Inside, a small pile of ancient dinner plates with cracked glaze and an intricate floral pattern. But no sign of what could have made the enormous crashing sound I’d heard. That was enough. I was off! I found my pizza bag and ran down the drive, praying that the little door in the fence would still be open. If not? Don’t think about it! Thankfully, it was, and my moped was still there, a dear old friend in the moonlight. I put the pizza bag in the tail box and put my helmet on, then I noticed something dark by the rear wheel. Like a small pool of something. I hoped to God it wasn’t a fuel leak. I bent down and touched a fingertip to it. By the light of my phone, it was something red and sticky. Yuk. At least it wasn’t petrol or oil, though. I wiped my fingers, started the moped up, and felt great relief as the machine roared off and carried me away from that horrible place.
There were no more deliveries, so I decided to have the pizza for tea. I’d be home in fifteen minutes, and it’d still be hot. If not, I’d pop it in the oven for a few minutes.
.
Back home, I put the oven on, having decided a quick reheat would do no harm. I headed to the fridge for some salad ingredients. I felt calmer. I didn’t know what it had been about. Perhaps I’d overreacted? Maybe they’d been called out at short notice. Thinking about it, I should have left the pizza on the kitchen table. Now, perhaps I’d get into trouble? I could imagine Dave and Trish at work: “They’d just popped out to buy some wine. They thought you’d leave it in the kitchen. Scaredy cat, scaredy cat!”
I tried not to think about it as I took a lemon and began to rub it on the grater. The tang of the citrus fruit stimulated my senses, reminding me of a wonderful holiday on the Italian island of Procida with Lawrence, a guy I was engaged to at the time. I remembered their limone pane – lemon bread – where the thick, sweet white pith is sliced right into fresh summer salads with red onion, chilli, mint, and, of course, abundant olio nuovo.
In an attempt to replicate that memory, I made a dressing with olive oil and the fresh lemon juice, together with some wine vinegar, and stirred them up in a small blue China jug with a little silver spoon before pouring it over an improvised salad: a mix of Romaine lettuce, watercress, sliced tomato, some grated red pepper, and olives from a jar at the back of a cupboard. Then I put on Steely Dan’s Aja, poured myself a large glass of nicely chilled Pinot Grigio, and went to the pizza box.
Inside was something I couldn’t quite comprehend at first. Then I began to scream, not so much at the severed hand but at the bloody, twitching fingers.
#AnyoneForPizza #FediverseWriters #flashfiction #Gore #horror #HorrorFiction #shortstory #spooky #UrbanLegend #WritersOfMastodon
Death metal is one of my favorite things on Earth. One of the coolest and most invigorating innovations in heavy music, death metal’s focus on rhythm, groove, heft, and serrated distortions in every instrument calls to something primal and primordial. Belgian five-banger Carnation understand that primal call perhaps too well, taking a classic formula that should’ve diminished significantly in returns by now and vitalizing it with piss, blood, and vinegar. Over the course of three consistently high-quality records they’ve defied every phenomenon of nature that kills with time. Fourth onslaught Symphony in Flesh poses yet another threat. What fresh hell awaits?
WIOLENCE, that’s what! While Cursed Mortality took on a more dour character despite its tightened and streamlined songwriting, Symphony in Flesh is just mean. With no regard for human life and a complete lack of sympathy for the weak of body and will, Carnation reprises the punky and thrashy energies that imbued early works like Chapel of Abhorrence, while retaining the melodious flourish and smooth finish of Cursed Mortality. This in turn creates an interesting balance across 43 minutes of feral theatrics and viscous blood spatter. A wide array of songwriting tacks steadily shift Carnation’s sound as Symphony in Flesh’s runtime progresses. This strategy gives the whole a sense of dynamic movement and epic scale while dealing mortal blows left, right, top, and bottom—an apt representation of the album’s title. There’s no escape, and a gruesome death is guaranteed, but you’ll be transfixed on your way to your maker.
Few things in life are better than a well-placed “BLEGH,” and what better place to “BLEGH” than right at the beginning? Thus, Symphony in Flesh unleashes with the stellar opener “Blackmouth,” instantly opening a yawning pit to hell in a barrage of caustic riffs and feverish double-bass grooves. This is everything that death metal should be in a nutshell, but Carnation make sure their recipe has extra sauce. Follow-up “Flesh-Eating Frenzy” might be the most fun I’ve had with the genre all year, boasting a nasty beat that whips my spine around like a proper flail. Big grooves that I now wholly associate with Carnation’s trademark riffing style characterize stomping offenses “Kingdom of Dreams” and “Boundless Pathways,” but thankfully don’t ape Carnation’s former iterations. Instead, they carve trenches for themselves deep in the whitewater current of blood and sinew that Symphony in Flesh disrespectfully gorged out of the flesh of the earth itself. Such irrigation then provides ample sustenance to support blackened tremolos and squawking melodies that personify “Twisted Visions” and the remarkably well-paced 11-minute closing epic “Legacy of the Forefathers.” This final expulsion itself is a testament to Carnation’s continuous improvement as songwriters. It shouldn’t work at all, and yet its encapsulation of everything that Symphony in Flesh exhibits into one visceral container guarantees a righteous pathway to this symphony’s glorious end.
Carnation’s collective performance on Symphony in Flesh is fucking vicious. It’s rare that HM-2 death metal in the modern era tastes freshly killed as it did in the early days, but this does. Grotesque and writhing with guts, Symphony in Flesh is a monstrous record where guitars blaze everything to cinders and psychotic roars rattle every bone to dust. Drums pound muscle into slurry, and even the massively distorted and clunky bass tone makes quick work of tenderizing organ meat. There’s little to ask of Carnation here. Nonetheless, nitpicks arise. There’s an argument to be made against the merit of an albeit brief quietude in the back end of “Legacy of the Forefathers.” That couple of minutes and change could be cut out with no immediate danger to the whole. “Labyrinth of Silence,” while immensely groovy, also takes a little too long to kick into high gear. Even after trimming that section down, it’s still the “weakest” offering on the menu. Compared to its neighbors, it’s just a bit too lackluster to find its footing and fumbles the ball slightly. Thankfully, “Towards Death” scoops the ball right back up and shoves me back into the fray without any concern for my safety.
Safety is overrated when the only thing that matters in life is death metal. Carnation understand this mantra, and embody it with Symphony in Flesh. Without changing the classic formula, Carnation embarrass an entire army of revivalists by being one of the only bands in the buzzsaw persuasion to feel alive and imminently dangerous. I fear for my life every time I spin this beastly thing, and I rarely feel such joy in conflation with that immutable survival instinct. Yet, I’m chomping at the bit for another taste!
Rating: Great
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self-released | Redefining Darkness Records (NA Physical)
Websites: Bandcamp | Homepage
Releases Worldwide: October 16th, 2026
1u - Deebo Samuel under 15.5 long reception +100
1u - Rome Odunze over 39.5 receiving yards -113
Let’s see if we can get back for Godwin on Thursday - that was a tough one to swallow.
Good luck with your bets 👊🏻
How HateSphere has continued to find success after over twenty-five years playing their tried, true, and dated brand of Scandathrash is beyond me. With a catalog as inconsistent in quality as an Arizona highway, these Danes continue pounding out records like Mormon men with fourteen-person families. After two decades of personnel changes, the best thing going for the band is the surprise behind the mic. But since 2023’s Hatred Reborn, there haven’t been any real surprises behind the scenes. Minus a new drummer, founder Peter Lyse Karmark continues to lead the charge, even bringing back Mathia Uldall for vocal duties. With a touch more melody than the previous record, this year’s Guillotine delivers ten new tracks to either push the envelope or just… be.
Against better judgment, this will be the fourth time I review a HateSphere release. But I initially requested this prison sentence because I enjoyed records like Bloodred Hatred and The Great Bludgeoning. Not to mention, I’ve been a genre lover from the early days of At the Gates, The Haunted, and Witchery. But man, it’s been a rough few records of mediocrity and staleness. Because the entire structure hasn’t changed in the last three years, maybe Guillotine will start a focused era of output. Wait, why the fuck am I being positive?
This twelfth album opens with the aptly titled instrumental “Chapter XII.” After the soft, reverberating guitars, the distortion kicks in, and we are provided with one of the best riffs on the album.1 The opener sets the tone nicely, slingshotting us into the purely predictable but solid “Dogma.” Wrapped up tightly in every element that defines the band, “Dogma” aggressively barks and growls; guitars hammer and swirl; and alternates between groove and melody. But in the end, it’s nothing special; it’s the standard we expect from HateSphere.
Thankfully, there are a few exciting numbers, like the back-to-back “Cleansing” and “Snake Charmer.” The first opens with a standard melodic introduction before firing off into a fun main riff. When the vocals arrive, the guitars come and go, letting the bass rise to the surface. After clawing through massive overlaid barks and growls, it ends with a headbangable chug of pure bliss. “Snake Charmer” is an extra minute-plus, delivering sinister vibes and a razor-sharp riff straight from Witchery’s Don’t Fear the Reaper. Toss in some melodicness and a good balance of back-and-forth antics, and it’s a pleasing piece. For something a bit more Soilwork-meets-Dark Tranquillity, ensure you check out the catchy and punchy “Human Scum.”
But as is the case with most recent HateSphere records, filler pieces or duds distract or poison the flow. Unfortunately, it really hurts when it’s the first single and the title track. The main riff of “Guillotine” is the laziest attempt at Pantera’s “5 Minutes Alone.” I mean, I like the tone and direction, but then it drops into that slow, dissonant, overused guitar sound that bores the hell out of it. The best part is the riff transition at the end, but, ya know, it’s a bit late. “Bottom Feeder” is another slogger with a decent vocal approach, but it tries so hard to be old-school death that it never develops further than the character. The closer is the longest on the album and one of the biggest letdowns. “Heresy” feels like the expected album epic, and the band thought so too, but like “Guillotine,” it goes on and on, moving up and down for no reason, and consists of bruiser riffs and bully vocals that won’t end.
With a typical Tue Madsen master and early 2000s compression, Guillotine is just another in a long string of mixed HateSphere records. It has some kickass tunes, some predictable ones, and others that try so hard they become forgettable.2 That said, denying their drive and prolificity would make me a poser because I still come back to see if the next record breaks the mold. Guillotine has some interesting tweaks that freshen the palette for us old-time fans, but nothing cracks the surface that hasn’t been done numerous times over. But I didn’t hate everything, and what I did like will be added to my HateSphere playlist.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kb/s mp3
Label: Scarlet Records | Bandcamp
Websites: hatesphere.com | facebook.com/hatesphereofficial
Releases Worldwide: October 9th, 2026
Gonna piss people off because posting while having feelings (in this case annoyance). This was posted to an art group on FB and I have responses:
Assuming this is about one of the many rapes in the news or the SNL thing...
No, it's not always a man. Not even close. If it's sexual assault against adults, then it's more often a man than a woman, but most people don't actually know much about sexual assault rates. There are more female sex offenders than commonly believed, though (as far as I know) fewer than male offenders.
What about just assaults against women? It's still not "always a man." Ask in the lesbian/WLW community. Ask about three of my friends and acquaintances. Ask yours. There are enough female perpetrators to be a consistent problem with specific treatment, research, and prevention. There are journal issues regularly dedicated to studying female offense and offenders. There are specialized treatment approaches and prevention programs. It's still not as common as male assaults against women, but it's not a negligible phenomenon, either. Sexual assault is awful and ignoring a big chunk of cases and victims to make an easy political point online is not helpful.
What about just assaults against kids? Again, plenty of offenses are committed by women, though (again) fewer than by males (AFAIK). As with assaults of adults/adolescents, the dynamics tend to be different, but the offending happens enough that there are many researchers who primarily study this.
Now a side issue but it's pretty big: Basic probabiities and their abuse. Let's image all sexual assaults were committed by men: What would that mean? Bad things, obviously, but think hard about this instead of going with one of the half-dozen Booyah Slam Dunk Things To Say On The Internet. Every mechanic I have known in the last several years has been a man. Does that mean when I meet a man I should assume he can fix my car? The vast majority of sex workers profiled or known on the internet to large audiences are women. Should we suspect all women of being sex workers? Most (i.e., 3/4) US Senators are men. Does that mean most US men are at risk of being senators?
Back to the bear. Its 3rd point: Enough to be a problem? Absolutely. A big problem. There is no need to exaggerate gender differences in rates: they exist and gender is a predictor for sexual assault, though it is differentially powerful for statistically predicting different types and demographics of assault. This factor exists; exaggerating its importance and ignoring other factors doesn't help reduce sexual assault.
What helps? Accurate information, evidence-based prevention and treatment. Those help. They're not as much fun as simplistic solutions, calling for increasingly harsh and cruel punishment, or calling for mob violence, but they work quite a lot better. There is serious history on this: all those other things have been tried, repeatedly. There's a fuckton of research on this. Go find it. Learn things.
As is so often the case: we can work toward solving a problem or we can scratch that itch to punish, to avoid the hard thinking and go with the easy thinking. We have to choose.
