Snob

This article originally appeared on VICE CA.

The video that stole my heart begins simply enough, with two men facing off across a white table.

On one side we have a burly man in a blue sweatshirt and across from him a minuscule man in a green jacket and scarf. The two lean over the table as a rather large crowd looks on. The two lock eyes, a man (a ref?) taps both of them on the shoulder and it’s go time. Then they start slapping the shit out of each—politely though, as they patiently wait for the other to finish so it will be their turn.

Eventually the man in green puts his arms behind his back and awaits the incoming slap. Our burly boy lines up his log-like arms and rewards green jacket boy for his cockiness with one of the hardest smacks in human history.

This… this beautiful art is a result of the Male Slapping Championship which, according to Russia media, was held over the weekend in the Siberian town of Krasnoyarsk. It was a part of the Siberian Power Show—which included bodybuilding, powerlifting, dance offs, and a dumpling eating contest—and took place over the weekend. The face slapping event is apparently this is a thing over there as last year’s Sarychev Power Expo also held a slapping contest.

The rules are simple, you walk up to a white table, stand across from your opponent and slap his face, then, if he so chooses to return fire, you take a slap in the face. The two of you repeat this as many times as necessary until one bows out of the beautiful slap dance either on your own volition or by being knocked out. Also, it seems they put chalk on their hands to… better show the slap power, I guess?

The winner won more than just the satisfaction of slapping people silly too! This year the best slapper in Siberia took home a cool 30,000 Russian Ruble—about $630 Canadian or $470 American. The man who got to put his stinging hands on that cash? Vasily Pelmen, a pure beauty who clocked in at around 370 pounds of pure slapping prowess—according to one reporter, Pelmen went by the amazing nickname of Dumpling.

(All the gifs come from the above video and I would like to thank whoever put it together from the bottom of my heart.)

While, yes, the contest is admittedly simple, the results, like a perfectly cooked steak or the calming presence of a purring cat, surpass their simplicity and enter the realm of an almost existential level of beauty. Not since perhaps the days of the gladiators have we had a more perfect athletic contest as two Russian men slapping the shit out of each other.

According to the video above, my boy Dumpling made his way easily through his competition like the Russian equivalent of The Mountain. One after another the Siberian men fell to Dumpling’s powerful openhand majesty. This included him dropping the man in the green and taking his shirt off to face down another shirtless slappy man. This slap-off went the distance with Dumpling staggering his opponent several times and eventually being declared the winner. At the end of the slapping, Dumpling knows he won and lightly slaps his opponent as not to do any extra damage because our Dumpling, like any great warrior, knows mercy is a virtue.

There are also a couple non-Dumpling slap-offs in the video but who wants a lesser slap? I mean check out the gif below. It’s a good slap but it doesn’t have that je ne sais quoi that Dumpling (who I’m comfortable in saying is the Muhammad Ali of slapping) possesses.

After walking through the shirtless dude, Dumpling enters what (I think) is the championship round, and faces off against an older man in a white polo shirt. Tension exudes from the video as the two high performance athletes face off. The massive crowd watches with baited breath, they’re going to to see history. Over the white table the athletes glared at each other. This was it, this is the moment they’ve trained their entire slappy careers for. It was do or die time. Please believe me when I tell you, Dumpling came to fucking slap.

While the older man knows how to swing, yes, and is able to get quite a bit of power out of his arms without much wind up he just can’t compete with our boy.

After the opponent somehow survived (read as: caught by his friends as he was falling) Dumpling’s sweet touch, he was lined up at the table for another go. However, this is real life and not a sports movie, there would be no Cinderella story our man in the polo shirt.

Dumping made sure as hell about that.

The man, who by this point has recovered remarkably well, slaps Dumpling something fierce but he’s not ready for the slap he’s about to receive by the generational athlete. Needless to say, once Dumpling fires Polo man quickly goes night-night. The ref jumps in and signals an X or something which I suppose says the match is over and the medics come in to save Polo Man. It’s a good call too, as a third slap by Dumpling probably would have excommunicated Polo Man’s soul from his body.

After this the Dumpling either won or the judges decided that they would not be complicit of sending athletes out to be slapped to death by our sweet boy. Our sweet Dumpling.

Mike Trout, Tom Brady, and LeBron James be damned, Dumpling is 2019’s best athlete.

Follow Mack Lamoureux on Twitter.

When Eiffel 65 released “Blue (Da Ba Dee),” it was a flop. They sold around 200 records, shrugged it off as a loss, and forgot about it. But in a wild turn of events, the track got picked up by a small local station before getting airplay on one of the biggest radio stations in Italy—and within days, it was steamrolling its way to becoming one of the biggest hits of the late 1990s, taking the electronic music group touring around the world as their song shot up the charts.

We met up with the members of Eiffel 65—Jeffrey Jey, Maurizio “Maury” Lobina, and Gabry Ponte—to find out the origin story behind "Blue," and hear what it was like to become international superstars in the blink of an eye.

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Alberto Núñez Feixoo presumía do acordo acadado a cuarta feira entre a Consellaría de Sanidade e tres sociedades científicas de medicina de Galiza -SEMG Galiza, Semergen Galiza e AgamFEC-e mais o Consello Galego de Médicos. Para o presidente da Xunta, quedaba así desactivado un dos principais focos de tensión da sanidade pública.

 

Mais a Coordinadora Galega de Atención Primaria disinte. Esta quinta feira anunciaba que mantiña a convocatoria de folga para o 9, 10 e 11 de abril. “As xuntanzas coa Xunta foron unicamente para dividir o colectivo”, afirman, e encadran nesa estratexia gobernamental o pacto da cuarta feira.

 

Feixoo, porén, xa construíu o seu relato. “Todas as sociedades científicos e colexios médicos están a favor das 175 medidas aprobadas polo Goberno galego para mellorar a Atención Primaria”, afirmou.

 

A sanidade pública estalou nunha vaga de protestas nos últimos meses. Dez anos de recortes orzamentarios e reorganización dos servizos deixan ver as súas consecuencias non só na Atención Primaria, senón tamén nas ambulancias ou nas Urxencias.

 

Sorpresa en Compostela trala decisión da Xunta de Galicia de levar ao Concello de Santiago aos Xulgados pola recente aprobación da ordenanza municipal de ruídos. A normativa, aprobada no pasado 2018, posibilitaba con carácter xeral que os locais de ocio puideran ter música ao vivo sen medo a importantes sancións econonómicas.

A Corporación municipal dera o visto bo definitivo á modificación da Ordenanza de Ruídos no mes de novembro cos votos a favor de Compostela Aberta e BNG, a abstención do PSOE e o voto en contra do PP. A flexibilización da ordenanza favorecía as actuacións musicais nos bares sempre que estes cumpriran determinadas condicións establecidas. Trátase dun problema que viña de lonxe na cidade pois os locais de ocio contaban cunha enorme inseguridade xurídica.

Agora, o Concello de Santiago conta cun inesperado fronte xudicial trala decisión da Xunta de Galicia, sen previa comunicación, de levar a ordenanza municipal ante os xulgados. E a sorpresa foi tal que a propia edil de Acción cultural da cidade, Branca Novoyra, recoñeceu descoñecer o recurso presentado pola Xunta pois “en ningún momento” houbo unha interlocución entre a administración autonómica e o seu departamento.

“Unha deslealdade institucional”

Ante as preguntas de Nós Televisión, Branca Novoneyra amosouse alporizada ante a decisión da Xunta de Galicia de xudicializar este proceso e considerou a denuncia da Xunta como un insulto cara a cidade e unha nova “deslealdade institucional”. “Defendemos o dereito á cultura na cidade e a Xunta de Galicia vainos ter en fronte” resaltan agora desde o Concello de Santiago

• Arquivo: A modificación da Ordenanza de ruídos permitirá a música ao vivo nos locais da cidade

A Lei de Espectáculos de Galicia, aprobada no Parlamento Galego exclusivamente cos votos do PP, conta cun carácter eminentemente prohibicionista e limita os concerto nos bares. Fronte o apagón musical decretado pola Xunta de Galicia, o Concello de Santiago optou por adaptar a normativa autonómica co obxectivo de ofrecer unha maior seguridade xurídica as actuacións de música ao vivo nos locais da cidade. Os establecementos de hostalería son en Santiago espazos para a divulgación artística e constitúen unha plataforma cultural de grande importancia e, por iso, desde Raxoi sempre impulsaron a celebración destas actividades nos establecementos da cidade.

O artigo Estupor no Concello de Santiago pola denuncia da Xunta contra a ordenanza de ruídos publicouse primeiro en Nós Televisión.

There’s a potentially surprising reason why.

Americans are as unhappy as they’ve been in years — and it seems to be a trend.

That’s one of the main takeaways from Wednesday’s release of the annual “World Happiness Report,” put out to coincide with the United Nations’ International Day of Happiness.

The report, which has been released every year since 2012, surveyed 156 countries using six metrics: GDP per capita, healthy life expectancy, the freedom to make life choices, social support, generosity, and perceptions of corruption.

And despite a having strong economy and low crime rates, the US dropped in the rankings for the third straight year and is now the 19th happiest nation on Earth. (The happiest? Finland, apparently.) That’s America’s worst showing ever, although it’s never made it into the top 10.

Here’s the chart showing the first 52 countries on the list using the criteria. (Note: it’s a big chart, but it’s worth taking a look to see where the US compares to others.)

World Happiness Report 2019

Some Americans weren’t too impressed with the ranking. “We finished 19th on the list behind Belgium,” ABC late-night host Jimmy Kimmel said on Wednesday. “The people who feel the need to put mayonnaise on their french fries are happier than we are. Cheer up, everybody.”

Why Americans may be so unhappy

It’s not entirely clear why Americans are so dissatisfied, but the report’s authors suggest one possibility: addiction.

“This year’s report provides sobering evidence of how addictions are causing considerable unhappiness and depression in the US,” Jeffrey Sachs, a Columbia University professor and author of the section of the report titled “Addiction and Unhappiness in America,” said in a news release.

“The compulsive pursuit of substance abuse and addictive behaviors is causing severe unhappiness. Government, business, and communities should use these indicators to set new policies aimed at overcoming these sources of unhappiness,” he added.

The Trump administration has made combating the opioid epidemic one of its major initiatives, although its success in doing so is mixed at best.

The hope is that a desperately needed breakthrough arrives soon. My colleague German Lopez explains the extent of the problem:

It is the deadliest drug overdose crisis in US history. In 2016 alone, drug overdoses killed more Americans than the entire Vietnam War and car crashes, gun violence, and HIV/AIDS ever did in a single year. In total, more than 170 people are estimated to die from overdoses every day in the US, and most of the deaths are linked to opioids.

Solving the addiction crisis might increase US happiness standings — but more importantly, it would help thousands of Americans.

You press the same button when you are horny and when you are sad, is the thing. Such is Instagram. Such is the deep kernel of truth at the heart of every so-called "like".

You press the heart, and every gamut of human emotion – the one that wants to fuck; the one that sympathises deeply; the one that is your mum, on the iPad with the font size all turned up, methodically going through every single post of yours from the last five years – is expressed by the same little motion: tap. Such a blunt tool for such a sheer and infinite range of human feeling. Think about it: the Instagram "like" at 6PM means different to 8PM means different to 1AM. The like you don’t "like" means as much as every like you "like". Every heart-tap, every hovered thumb, contains multitudes.

And so it is up to us – anthropological documenters as we are, you and I – to try to figure what it all means. Does the flame emoji autoreply to an Instagram story mean anything? No. More often than not, it is an accident. Does a new follower liking eight of your photos in a row mean anything? Yes. What about the ominous re-follow from the person who ghosted you 14 months ago? Oh, yes. Yes and yes and yes. It all means something.

Here, broadly, is a rough framework we can all try to work onwards from:

1. THE ‘HORNY’ LIKE
In which we like something because we are horny

I think it is important to recognise that the pulsing blood in the rigid veins of Instagram is The Horny Like. The Horny Like underpins everything. As the premier flirting (and relationship-maintaining) platform, Instagram floats on a sloshing sea of horniness. You smash that mf'ing horny like button, you move into the DMs, the DMs move back to you, the cycle continues. Even liking photos of things we want – trainers, tacos, Glossier drops – sits in an uneasy well of horniness. When we like something, we are horny for it. Instagram is the app where you see things and like them. It stands to reason that The Horny Like is a mainstay within it.

That said, the bread-and-butter Horny Like is just one step up the Horny Instagram Ladder. The Horny Like in the cold light of day: that’s just a small declaration of passing horniness. The Horny Like as the sun starts to set and the sky turns blue to black? Lingering horniness, legacy horniness. A like dings in at midnight? That may as well be a full-on dick- or tit-pic. Horny Likes are tied to the rotation of the earth, the tides, our circadian rhythms, early morning horn and late-night heavy breathing. They increase exponentially when we are drunk. They are the truest expression of ourselves.

2. THE 'HORNY UNLIKE'
In which we deliberately do not like a picture we like in case it makes us look too horny

And so the ballet begins. The Horny Like says: hi. Am horny. The Horny Like too many likes in a row says: I am simply too horny and need medical intervention. And so the horny Instagram user must learn to give their Horny Likes, but also withhold them, so they do not arouse the suspicion of the object of their horny desires and/or the police. A delicate dance in the shadow of a mirror.

An amateur move with the Horny Unlike: to withhold a like from a photo, but return to it two or three days later and give it a dismissive "oh, yeah, whatever" like. Do not do this. A Horny Unlike must stay a Horny Unlike. A Horny Unlike allows you to move through Instagram like a spy in a suit and an earpiece. It allows your horniness to go undetected and unchecked. It is a vital tool in keeping you out of prison.

3. THE 'BEST FRIEND' LIKE
In which you like your friends’ picture because you are best friends

I like all of my best friends' photos, no question. Absolutely none. I’m glad to see him out there doing things that make him happy. Bing–bing. Enjoy your double-tap, my friend. If you like it enough to put it online, then I like it, because I like you. I am glad to see you thriving. I love you with every fibre of my soul.

4. THE 'FRIEND' LIKE
The less clear-cut but still important like in which you like because you’re friends with the person who did the post

I realised about six months ago that likes mean absolutely fucking nothing and there’s absolutely no reason not to chuck them around with sheer abandon. Why did this take me so long? I am, very simply, an idiot. Do you know that likes don’t matter? Do you know there is not some central database of your likes, being sullied if you double-tap on too many memes? Do you, honestly, know how difficult it is to see a list of all the photos you’ve liked? How many menus you go through? Do you really think it matters how much you curate what you double-tap, and how much of that appears on other people's activity feeds? It doesn’t! Like your friends’ new tattoo! Like a picture of their breakfast! Give them a burst of dopamine in the form of a like when they upload their holiday photos! Like a dog! Like a family picture! Like a picture of their dad holding them when they were a kid! Like a photo of their new front room set-up! Like! Like! Like! We! Are! Friends!

5. UNLESS YOUR FRIEND IS IN A BIKINI, THEN IT GETS WHOLLY WEIRD
In which we think about but ultimately decide very hard against doing a friend-like that could in any way be interpreted as being a horny-like

Yeah, apart from that, yeah. Unless you’re absolutely sure you have the kind of friendship that can endure you laying a thick red heart down on a picture of them in swimwear, it is best to steer clear. "Just having a morning swim" captions never mean "just having a morning swim"; they mean "here is a swimwear photo designed in a lab and pre-approved by a WhatsApp group of dozens to make the one person I am DM’ing at the moment smash the like button". Don’t get into a weird, grey, liminal zone where you’ve accidentally liked someone’s thirst trap and now you’ve been uninvited to their birthday party this weekend. Be fucking smart.

6. THE 'SUPPORTIVE' LIKE
In which we praise people for trying their best

If someone is ill and they do an ill selfie where they say they are very congested? That is a supportive like. Or like: first day outfit at a new job? That is a supportive like. Pale arm spiralling off into a distant drip? That’s an S.L. Baked bread but the bread looks like shit but you can tell they’ve been really trying with the baking of the bread? Smash that mf'ing supportive like button. I see you trying but not necessarily succeeding, you say, likingly. Here, take this humble little like.

7. THE 'DRUNK' LIKE
In which we like things with a slightly less discerning eye because we’ve had six pints of Hells and we’re struggling to stand up straight in a bathroom

Do some of my best liking on the bus home at 2AM, because everyone gets likes: parties I’m not at, people I don’t know, photos of people doing karaoke, cats, dogs, reptiles, endless photos of curry people have eaten at The Roti King in Euston, wedding flashback photos (me, 1PM, sober and clear-eyed: "You got married once! Get over it!" Me, 12 hours later, drinking a tin at a bus-stop: “I love love! I very simply… love love!”), pictures of long distant beaches with "missing this today" grumpy captions. You simply all get a like. And I’m going to clatter into some DMs like the Kool-Aid jug falling through a wall, don’t you worry.

8. THE 'CELEBRITY' LIKE
In which we wonder why we are debasing ourselves by being Kim Kardashian’s 432,757th like of the day

Often I think, as I’m absolutely obliterating the like button on the latest Charli XCX upload, I think: why am I doing this? Charli XCX is not going to notice me doing it, but I do it anyway, despite the whole exercise being pointless. "Joel," she says, in that voice she does, in an imaginary scenario where she delicately moves into my "Other" inbox. "I see you liking two out of every three of my Instagram uploads, which: nice. That is the perfect number of likes to make me notice you’re there but not actively think you’re trying to chirpse me. It gets a big yuh from me." We instantly fall in love (she keeps making me wearing transparent crop tops for some reason, but at this point, whatever, I don’t care) and I move into a house she’s bought in LA, balcony and expensive dressing gowns and everything. "Thank you, Instagram," I hiss into the blurry setting sun. "Thank you, thank you." But no, that never happens, and instead you find yourself at the doorstep of a celebrity Instagram post, thousands of comments and millions of likes, and you are like: I am an ant. An insignificant ant. They do not know if I am alive or dead. And then, with a sickly little clunk of self-loathing, you hit that like button, don’t you. Don’t you. Complex app, Instagram, isn’t it? Some weird little feelings, bubbling up to the surface, ah?

9. THE 'DUTY' LIKE
In which you like your boyfriend or girlfriend’s Instagram post because they are your boyfriend or girlfriend

I noticed as soon as they both decompressed from the immediate-onslaught post-Love Island press cycle that Jack Fincham from last season’s show basically commented the same thing on every one of his boxfresh-new girlfriend Dani Dyer’s Instagram account, and that was, simply, the word: "Sort". Dani in a bikini: sort. Dani announcing a new Boohoo line: sort. Dani at the Specsavers Spectacle Wearer of the Year Awards: sort, sort, sort, glasses-face emoji, banter with Eyal in the comments section.

In real life, though, you find yourself less inclined. If you see someone naked more than twice a week then you have to like every Instagram post they do: sorry, but it’s the law. The sooner after uploaded the better, as well. Without that double-tap, there are politics (“Why didn’t you like my Instagram post, then?”). Without that double-tap, there is trouble in paradise. You bang the heart button. You’re two years into the relationship and the sex has started to decline, but you still both go to brunch together every Saturday and their parents invited you on holiday this year so you’re pretty much locked-in: smash the like button. Picture of a newly-rearranged bedroom, picture of a swipe-card pass for a meeting they had at a company cooler than their own, blurry photo of a dog running away: doesn’t matter what the shit is. You slam it with a duty like because that’s your fucking job.

10. THE 'BABY' LIKE
In which we recognise that some of our friends are happy in a dimension different to our own

If you had a baby I have to give you a like, and I don’t like that. Happy you’re happy with your baby, obviously, but it looks like a mound of pizza dough swaddled in a towel. I understand a very primal lizard-brain part of yourself is now deeply in love with this thing, but it leaves me cold. I’ve seen your scan, I’ve seen the progression of your bump, I’ve seen the baby shower I wasn’t invited to, I’ve seen you go quietly offline for the three weeks preceding the birth. I have been clicking like for months. Now I see the baby. Have your fucking like, alright. I hope you and your family are deeply happy for the rest of your lives! I will like every upload of their progress from now until the end of time!

11. THE 'GOOD OUTFIT' LIKE
In which we like someone’s outfit more than them as a whole

I would say I’m happy with the outfit I clang together maybe one morning out of every 40, so damn fucking right you’re going to get a fitpic on Instagram if I’ve somehow managed to put jeans, a T-shirt and a jacket together in a coherent manner. This goes triple if I follow you on Instagram: new padded winter jacket? Big ol’ like and a comment asking where you bought it. Box-fresh trainers on a rainy overground platform? You get a like, you get a like, big booty like for you. When someone uploads an outfit selfie, they are not saying: here, the clothes I bought with money, they are good. They are saying: I am absolutely fucking feeling myself today. I am electric with horny energy for my own self. Fuck me absolutely up. And they get a little like for their efforts.

12. THE 'LIKE-THE-CAPTION' LIKE
In which we like the caption if not exactly the photo

If the caption makes me laugh, you get a like before I’ve even processed the photo. I read faster than I see, somehow. This has caught me out, previously – I once clicked "like" on someone’s funny caption and it turned out the picture was a crying selfie and the whole thing was a documentation of a long-ignored-by-me mental downswirl, and I had to DM them and be like “sorry that 'like' was probably inappropriate, v. shaky on the rules re: rescinding it now, i.e. would that make the crying better or worse" – but, broadly, funny caption gets you more likes than, like, just straight up looking good.

13. THE 'WE HAD SEX ONCE AND NOW WE DON’T SO I DO A VERY CAREFULLY CURATED ONE-IN-THREE OF YOUR PICTURES LIKE SO YOU KNOW WE’RE STILL FRIENDS BUT NOT IN A HORNY WAY' LIKE
In which we skip gaily into a minefield

Think this one explains itself really, but you still get a hot weird sweat when you click "like" on it, don’t you.

14. THE 'RECIPROCAL' LIKE
In which you pay the piper in the form of ‘more pipe’

Reading this back, it really does make me sound like I "hammer the L" (fun new way I have invented for saying "click the like button") on every post I see on Instagram, which is broadly untrue. That said: you’ve always got about eight to 12 people in your notifications folder who hit like on literally everything you do, don’t you? DM’d you saying something nice once and when you were trying to reply you accidentally followed them back.

Too awkward to disengage now because they respond to every Story you do with the cry-laugh emoji. Are you… friends? You’re not friends. But you see them pop up in your feed and think of that time they liked 32 of your pictures in a row and the activity made your phone so hot it turned itself off and you had to ask the staff at Chick ‘n’ Sours if they could plug it in behind the counter, and, begrudgingly, without any joy at all, you "bong on the hearty" (another fun new way I invented). You slug. You powerless little slug.

15. THE 'PASS-AGG' LIKE
In which we make a point

The pass-agg like comes in exactly two forms: i. you took a photo of your friend that they end up putting on Instagram and getting inundated with likes on, and you feel you are owed a certain ethereal vig for that thing, so you click the like button and comment "nice photo!!!!! who took it???" as well as doing a fun-and-cheery-but-actually-quite-dark-and-sharp-edged text to them about it until they fold and edit their caption to credit you, and you get two new followers off the whole debacle; and ii: you click "like" on a party photo all of your friends are sticking their tongues out and doing the peace sign in, but weird – weird one – weirdly, you were not invited. And they shall know. And They Shall Know You By The Trail Of The Like.

16. THE 'LIKING A PHOTO OF A PARTY YOU BAILED ON' LIKE
In which we invert the aggression of the like directly above

Once you hit 25 you start cancelling plans on the day about 900 percent more than you ever did in your life before, and this party you were meant to go to – someone’s birthday, but it’s too far away and the same friends they always have at every party are fucking nerds, and you always end up talking to that fucking nerd one and you’ve met them like seven or eight separate times now and you never remember their name but here they are again, fucking hell, sidling up with a pint and asking you how work is; it’s fucking Saturday, mate, don’t ask me about work – anyway, you bailed on this one because you couldn’t be arsed, plus it was looking sort of like it was going to start raining and they all upload the same photo anyway (a nerd move, frankly) and you like them all in turn and even go so far as to comment "sad to miss it :(" on the main birthday boy or girl’s post, but you’re not sad to miss it at all, are you? You and your duvet and the whole box of Chocolate Weetos you inexplicably ate in bed are absolutely not sad to miss it at all, are they, you horrible little worm.

17. THE 'DADDY HUNGRY' LIKE
In which we like a picture of some food simply because we are hungry

I’ve previously been so hungry in my life that I’ve liked a Buzzfeed Tasty video, and if you’ve ever seen those things – it’s always someone, like, fucking microwaving a dish of cheese until it roughly melts, then mashing marshmallows into the top, slicing the resultant wad like a pie – that should tell you everything about the sanity of the hungry mind on Instagram, i.e. it is not sane, not even at all.

18. THE 'JEALOUSY' LIKE
In which we should probably re-evaluate our lives and behaviours tbqh

The scenario is this: you just started talking to someone and you’re in that knife-sharp heightened-senses zone where everything they do and un-do to you is interpreted as some sort of grand you-focused gesture – not texting back for an hour is the world’s greatest par, going out for drinks with friends when you know it’s simply far too early to start inviting you to that sort of thing is seen as a sort of snub, them literally commenting on other people’s photos makes you pang and ache with jealousy – and when you’re in this delirious semi-horny, semi-angry state it’s possible – and I’m not saying it’s healthy, but it’s possible – it’s possible to like the photos of people who are Better Looking Than Them And Also Probably Achievable For You To Bang As A Sexual Being, a move which, when done six or eight times in a row, is targeted like a grenade to go off in their activity feed as a little reminder of how hot and wanted you are. Don’t do this – it’s wobbling deep into psychotic behaviour. But I’m just saying that you could.

19. THE 'I SEE YOU HAVE NOT REPLIED TO MY TEXT BUT YOU HAVE UPLOADED TO INSTAGRAM' LIKE
In which we get to the dark, treacle-sticky heart of human interaction

It’s sort of weird that Instagram started as a fun way of documenting our cats and our holidays and our meals in and our meals out, and every time we went to a football stadium or a pop concert; and then it morphed, imperceptibly, in front of our eyes: hyper-airbrushed #sponcon models and specially chosen pink-pastille palettes; the baffling idea of The Curated Grid; everyone making it look like they’re leading a better life than they’re leading, then turning round and hitting you with a 400-word caption about how "Instagram is just the highlights reel". I remember one of the first Instagram posts I did was a cut-out postcard of Princess Diana balanced nimbly over some topless models in a copy of Bizarre, placed on the oat-coloured carpet in my first London flat and taken, according to the picture quality, with – instead of a camera – the glass end of a broken lamp. And one day about two years ago I archived that (reasons unknown?????) and only started putting up the very best, the very most hand-curated photos of myself (also for reasons unknown?????), and tied myself to the drip-spike-drip cycle of dopamine that comes with getting an Instagram like. And what does an Instagram like even mean anymore? Does it mean: I like this? I want to eat this? I want to fuck it? I’m mad at it? Invite me to more things? Text me more? Be my friend? You are my friend? It’s 1AM and I’m both drunk and exceptionally horny? I accidentally tapped this twice while scrolling?

It is impossible to know what an Instagram like even means any more. Such is the beauty and the decay of this cursed, cursed app.

@joelgolby has a book out

The Onion is a satirical website that reports non-existent events and fictional news. Most people know that they shouldn’t take it seriously, however there are always few that are not so bright…

Dice que no puede permitir «con carácter xeral» las actuaciones en todos los locales

El que había sido cura de 12 parroquias en los Ayuntamientos de Ribadeo y Trabada, José Emilio Silvaje Aparisi, ha negado en la primera sesión de su juicio haberse apropiado de tallas y objetos religiosos durante su etapa de párroco de 2008 a 2012, cuando colgó los hábitos. El exsacerdote, junto con un anticuario de Mondoñedo, está siendo juzgado en la Audiencia Provincial de Lugo, el primero por apropiación indebida, por lo que la Fiscalía pide cuatro años y medio de prisión. Al anticuario le pide un año y medio por receptación, al haber adquirido supuestamente las piezas robadas. Durante la vista de este miércoles Aparisi ha arremetido contra el obispado y ha negado haberse llevado nada. Se ha ensañado especialmente con los sacristanes que le eran asignados: "el que no era borderline era subnormal, y me robaban dinero de las parroquias”, ha proclamado.

Seguir leyendo.

“Os quilombos eram os refúgios das escravas fugidas no Brasil, desde onde se organizavam e lanzavam operaçons para libertar novas escravas”. E O Quilombo é o nome que adopta o novo centro social que nace no país, concretamente en Pontevedra. Está na Rúa Princiesa e esta sexta feira e sábado organzia unha serie de actividades que servirán para inaugurar o CS e dálo a coñecer.

 

O Quilombo como un centro social “galego, popular, aberto, asamblear e colaborativo”, que para alén das actividades e actos que organice procura unha colaboración cos diversos movementos sociais da cidade.

 

O programa das xornadas de inauguración abrangue actividades como a presentación de Semente-Pontevedra oudo libro de Zeca Afonso, unha palestra sobre a resistencia en Brasil baixo o actual goberno da dereita dereita ou a presentación da coordinadora antifascista na cidade.

 

 

Ningunha das persoas participantes na mostra -523 casos sometidos a 892 controis- nunca foron fumadoras. Proceden de hospitais galegos, asturianos, madrileños e de Castela e León. O tamaño da mostra “sitúao como un dos estudos máis importantes sobre radón en cancro de pulmón en nunca fumadores”. Os resultados ratifican o informe de 2009 da Organización Mundial da Saúde, segundo o que o radón “é o primeiro factor de risco de cancro de pulmón en nunca fumadores”.

Os investigadores e investigadoras da universidade compostelá concluíron que o radón pode producir cancro pulmonar a partir dos 200 bq/m3. Este nivel atópase por debaixo da directiva europea sobre radiacións ionizantes, que estabelece os 300 bq/m3 como referencia.

 

O cancro de pulmón en nunca fumadores representa entre o 15 e o 25% dos casos, pero a súa epidemioloxía “está pouco desenvolvida”. O estudio do Laboratorio de Radon de Galiza afirma que “existe unha relación directa entre concentración de radon e risco de cancro de pulmón”. “Mais é unha relación probabilística”, explica Ruano, “do mesmo xeito que non todos os fumadores desenvolven cancro de pulmón, non todas as persoas con radón elevado na casa o terán”.

 

Os datos recollidos na investogación indican, a maiores, que a exposición ao radon está asociada con “todos os tipos histolóxicos de cancro de pulmón, incluído o adenocarcinoma, o máis frecuente”.  

 

O radon é un elemento químico pertencente aos gases nobres. Ás veces está presente no solo sobre o que asentan as vivendas ou nos materiais de construción. Unha directiva europea de 2013 regúlao.

 

En este último y apasionante episodio, Pedro Sánchez y los estrategas del PSOE te explican que hay que votar sí o sí en estas elecciones para parar al fascismo... que defiende más o menos exactamente lo que había estado defendiendo Pedro Sánchez hasta hace un cuarto de hora.

El trabajo emocional hace referencia al esfuerzo que realizamos para regular nuestras emociones en las interacciones sociales en el trabajo, mostrando las emociones 'apropiadas' para cumplir con la imagen que requiere la empresa. Un estudio internacional en el que participa la Universidad Complutense de Madrid (UCM) demuestra que simular emociones, sin llegar a experimentarlas realmente afecta a la propia salud de los trabajadores y a la satisfacción de sus parejas.

Esa simulación de emociones consiste en la modificación de las expresiones faciales y corporales sin cambiar para ello el estado emocional interno. El trabajo, publicado en Spanish Journal of Psychology, recoge datos que reflejan lo dañino que puede resultar esta vivencia laboral en distintos ámbitos.

“Fingir emociones en el trabajo es una estrategia frecuente de regulación de las emociones, que se utiliza para cumplir con las expectativas de la organización. Hemos observado que realizarlo de forma sistemática agota a los trabajadores. Esto hace que al llegar a casa también finjan emociones en las interacciones con su pareja, lo que disminuye la satisfacción marital”, explica Alfredo Rodríguez, investigador del departamento de Psicología Social, del Trabajo y Diferencial de la UCM.

En la investigación, en la que también participan la Universidad Erasmo de Rotterdam (Holanda) y la Universidad de East Anglia (Inglaterra), se recopilaron datos de 800 vivencias laborales de trabajadores españoles y sus parejas. 

Aparición de consecuencias

En cuanto a la salud del trabajador, este trabajo emocional tiene, entre sus consecuencias, la aparición de diversos síntomas de estrés, depresión, fatiga, problemas de sueño y ansiedad. En el presente estudio, se observó un aumento de los niveles de agotamiento emocional, entendido como el decaimiento físico y psíquico que el trabajador siente cuando tiene la sensación de que no puede dar más de sí mismo, y una disminución del interés de establecer relaciones sociales.

Se trata del primer estudio que analiza cómo la regulación de la emociones afecta la dinámica entre las parejas diariamente. Para ello, se tomaron como muestra 80 parejas de 25 empresas diferentes y se demostró que los efectos de las simulaciones emocionales “viajan de una persona a otra, probablemente debido al contagio emocional”, según el psicólogo de la UCM.

El experto asegura que si los empleados aprendieran estrategias más “positivas” en el trabajo, basadas en el procesamiento y modificación auténtica de las emociones, podrían usarlas también en casa, aumentando la calidad de vida de sus familias.

Referencia bibliográfica:

Bakker, A.B., Sanz-Vergel, A.I., Rodríguez-Muñoz, A., y Antino, M. (2019). "Ripple Effects of Surface Acting: A Diary Study among Dual-Earner Couples". Spanish Journal of Psychology, 22(7), 1-12. DOI: 10.1017/sjp.2019.6. 

Raphael Buch Brage foi o último soldado supervivente en morrer dos miles de voluntarios que saíron dos Estados Unidos para ...

Os de Burela son burelenses/burelaos  pero ‘pataqueiros’, o alcume que reciben e polo que se lles coñece na comarca, conta máis da vila que o xentilicio. O mesmo pasa cos de Vilagarcía, onde o aséptico vilagarciáns non di moito. Non así o alcume polos que se lles coñece en toda a Ría de Arousa, ‘ingleses’, procedente de cando ese era porto habitual de recalada da armada británica. Pasar co dedo por riba un mapa de Galiza e en cada lugar que toque o índice poderían saltar eses alcumes colectivos, ás veces máis dun para o mesmo lugar: ‘Xabrentos’ para os de Ares, ‘papeiros’ para os de Chantada, ‘ceboleiros’ para os de Celanova ou ‘tiñosos’ para os de Cambados. Hai para todos.

 

O ‘Portal de ditados tópicos galegos’ é unha base de datos con máis de 1.500 alcumes colectivos creada a partir do convenio asinado entre o Instituto da Lingua Galega e a Fundación Camilo José Cela para aproveitar os materiais galegos dun ambicioso proxecto do que fora premio Nobel, a redacción do ‘Diccionario geográfico popular de España’, que acometeu coa colaboración de carteiros de todo o Estado. "A comezos de 1971, enviou ás xefaturas de Correos, para o seu reparto entre os carteiros, máis de 25.000 enquisas en que solicitaba información sobre ditados tópicos das localidades que servían ou doutras veciñas. Pero esta cantidade inxente de datos quedou inédita na súa maior parte", recordaba nunhas xornadas da RAG o filólogo David Rodríguez.

 

O Portal de ditados tópicos galegos ofrece dixitalizadas e transcritas máis de 1.200 fichas que constitúen unha rica fonte para o estudo dos alcumes colectivos. "Nesta base de datos rexístranse ata 1.772 formas, que son a un tempo alcumes e xentilicios. Van desde o máis descritivo, como os zapateiros, os veciños de Noia, polo oficio, ata o máis despectivo, como os carrachentos para se referir aos de San Breixo de Oza, parece que só para "ofender", informaba David Rodríguez en ditas xornadas.

 

Que aos de Santiago se lles di ‘picheleiros’ (construtor ou vendedor de picheis, un recipiente xeralmente de estaño) é ben coñecido.  Como aos da Coruña ‘cascarilleiros’ (pola cascarilla do cacau), ou aos do Grove, ‘mecos’.  Mais hai outros alcumes colectivos que sorprenden máis. Como os que reciben os de certas zonas de Porto do Son: ‘capatoxos’ e ‘fanecas asadas’. Ou o de ‘papeiros’ para os de Chantada, ‘tiñosos’ para os de Cambados e ‘calderetas’ para os de Celanova.

 

Chilindríns, fidalgos, caliveras e os que matan a mosca na perna

 

A través dese portal pode facerse un interesante percorrido: 'fidalgos’ ou ‘quinquilleiros’ para os de Monforte, ‘turulús’ para os de Vilaxoán ou ‘afogacristos’ para os de Carril. Estes últimos, cun alcume derivado de que lles caese a imaxe de cristo ao mar nunha procesión ou de que ao amarrar as dornas a cruceiros na beira do mar, tumbaron un. Quen sabe?

 

Os de Ferrol reciben un máis que contundente ‘vila podre’ e os de Lugo suman até 12 alcumes colectivos diferentes, segundo barrios ou parroquias: Callarengos, coellos, cucos, furasoles... Tamén sumanun importante continxente os do municipio de Cangas do Morrazo: Choróns, raspeiros, cañoteiros, luróns, pulpeiros... No outro lado da Ría, Vigo, onde tamén abundan estes alcumes. Aos de Lavadores chamábaselles 'moscovitas' (era ben coñecida a tendencia esquerdista desa parroquia), mentres os de Teis recibían un contudente 'pescadillas meladas'. E 'matamanexos' para os de Matamá.

 

Mirando xa para o norte de Galiza, aos de Celeiro dinlles ‘chilindríns’. Disque lles quedou cando a tripulación de barcos ingleses chamaba aos rapaces que xogaban no porto desta vila mariñeira (“children”). Noutra vila mariñeira,desta volta na Ría de Arousa, Rianxo, aos seus habitantes dicíaselle ‘os que matan a mosca na perna’. Ao parecer, os mariñeiros rianxeiros preferían estar no porto fumando e aburríndose sen facer nada (matando moscas) que saír a pescar.

 

‘Desconxuntados’ os do Valadouro, ‘fabeiros’ os de Vilalba, ‘cabalos’ ou ‘galos’ os de Bueu, ‘carcamáns ou ‘carabaos’ os da Illa de Arousa, ‘calleiros’ os de Xunqueira de Ambía, ‘Os da Rabia’ os do Carballiño, ‘fanequeiros’ e ‘caliveras’ para os de Vilanova de Arousa, 'os da Paula' (Paula é o nome da campá maior da Catedral mindoniense) os de Mondoñedo.. e así até 1.772 formas. Un rico e sorprendente patrimonio que, se ben desaparecido en boa medida da memoria colectiva, continúa vivo grazas a este portal.

 

In 2013, it took Vibease under 24 hours to crowdfund the first ever smart vibrator, a Bluetooth-enabled device whose vibration patterns could be synced with an audio fantasy of the user's choice. The sex tech industry has continued to boom since, with brands like OhMiBod, Mystery Vibe and We-Vibe all using robotics and apps to enhance the user experience.

Initially, smart vibrators were focused on solo play for women, but in 2019 sex tech is quickly becoming more versatile – and more intimate: vibrators have better motors, and apps give you the ability to control the patterns of vibrations remotely. This has changed both the nature of camming – as sex workers can now charge clients to control their vibrators over the internet – and long-distance relationships, with geographically-challenged partners now able to discreetly fuck around with each other in public.

I was once in a long-distance relationship with someone I originally met online, and sex tech offered a form of connection that, for us, had previously been missing. The thought of them being able to control what was happening to me added an extra layer of excitement, so I ordered the We-Vibe Sync. With an inner arm for G-spot stimulation and an outer section for clitoral vibes, it's designed to be used either solo (controlled via Bluetooth or a button), for long distance play (with an app to connect a lover), or during sex. Aesthetically pleasing, it felt and looked like a great, albeit expensive (£160), bit of kit.

Our first attempt was decidedly lacklustre. Having to organise a time to set it up and then head straight into it led to a manufactured intimacy, which put a pressure on us finishing – a disappointing experience for us both. Compared with the usual phone call or instant messaging, which would naturally lead into a mutual masturbation scenario, it was all just too much effort. However, once we'd got to grips with the tech, my pleasure being entirely in his hands – despite the distance – added an element of closeness we’d not experienced before through online sex. The cost alone and our positive repeat performances kept us using it, but I was interested to see whether other couples had found the same issues with sex tech and how it compared to their usual activity in the bedroom.

Mia and Jake* have been in a long distance relationship for two years. "We use a range of toys, including ones where the control is in the hands of the other person," Mia tells me. "For him, there’s a level of being turned on by them being for my benefit. Video calls and photos alongside kind of ran its course and fizzled out, because it's a lot of effort and no way near as gratifying as the real thing. A lot of the time I’m not bothered [about using toys], because I’m having a nice time regardless."

Max* and his ex, together for three years and long-distance for the last six months of their relationship, often used a wide range of toys through video chats. "They added a physical feeling, at least for her, that I was there. And by combining that with our usual phone calls or video calls we were able to reach each other in a way we previously couldn’t. It made it way more intimate, and the orgasms were far more intense. Although we broke up, the long-distance sex wasn’t a part of it at all, and I was really close to buying a Fleshlight in the end because I was jealous of the energy of her orgasms and wanted to feel that for myself."

Ellie* and her partner, together for just over a year, are regular users of her toy box, however she's concerned that "if we start replacing most sexual contact with tech, we’ll lose all the other things we get from sexual contact that we need as human beings that isn't solely the physical sensation. That said, if I had to be away from my boyfriend for a significant period of time, I think both of us would really enjoy something that could connect us differently."

This idea of connection seems to be sex tech's most positive aspect, but also its downfall. Are the current toys on the market actually good enough? Or is there something new on the horizon that might properly bridge the intimacy gap?

Keen to hear an industry perspective, I spoke with Carlos Cabada, a visual erotic artist and tech entrepreneur who runs the erotic art brand Eromatica. Having only created websites and video games for their friends, alongside other work, the sex tech market was by no means the obvious next step. The themes of their art, however, led them into a world of female desire and sexual empowerment. Add a chance online encounter with Bluetooth vibrators into the mix and the "Eromatica" remote app was born. The vibrator itself is similar to the We-Vibe in design, with a curved shape used primarily for clitoral stimulation, and an app to give your lover the ropes.

Eromatica’s brand message is to "democratise masturbation" by allowing it to be accessible and open to as many people as possible. Carlos first recognised the disparity between women’s pleasure and the availability of toys for long-distance relationships back in 2017. "If it wasn't a female sex toy, I wouldn't be doing any sex toy," they tell me over email. Carlos believes that the evolving nature of sex tech is nothing but positive for couples, and that this could help to increase intimacy between people separated by distance, or those just not able to spend much physical time together. "Every year we're getting closer to making it more intimate and more real," they add. "I can’t wait until VR goes mainstream. We’re literally going to feel like we’re in the same room as our partner, having sexual pleasure."

Virtual Reality is an interesting branch of the sex tech market. At the moment, the technology seems to be reserved for porn production companies mostly creating content for mainstream porn sites, as opposed to personalised videos to improve intimacy. VR takes the POV category to another level and, with your headset on, you can truly get into the story and action itself as a participant, rather than an observer. However, Bonny Hall, Lovehoney’s product director, tells me that VR headsets have yet to take off in the UK. So much so that Lovehoney don’t actually have enough stats to demonstrate how few they sell.

"There’s definitely a trend [in other sex tech], such as remote controlled vibrators and underwear," she explains, "but I do feel there's still an edge of novelty about them and couples are perhaps using them more to add to date night or while in the room together, rather than when they are abroad or further apart."

At the moment, Lovehoney is focusing on proven successes, like their own brand pocket clitoral vibrator and bullet vibrator – both much smaller and simpler. However, this June will see a brief foray into tech with the release of their smart knicker vibrator, which, like the original Vibease design, is a small bean-shaped vibrator that you put inside your pants for clitoral stimulation. "For us, it was about affordability for our customers and making sure it was easily available for our global audience," says Bonny. "It’s a lot of money upfront to develop the technology in these toys, and we wanted to ensure that issues had been ironed out before we invested too."

The mainstream porn industry tells a similar story. Despite predictions that VR would become a billion-dollar business by 2025, Pornhub still only has around 2,000 videos in the VR category – insignificant compared to its over 7 million clips in total. Its most watched VR video has taken two years to amass 6 million views, whereas the current most watched video of all other categories has reached 8 million views and was uploaded a week ago. Clearly, the numbers indicate that people aren’t searching for it. Basic VR headsets are affordable and available online, but it seems consumers aren't looking to add a VR element to their regular porn consumption.

Pornhub's stats show that men are 160 percent more likely to watch VR porn, and so most traditional porn is being made to satisfy this, eliminating anyone whose viewing habits don't centre entirely on women on their knees. But with the technology of Vibease being made to go alongside erotic fiction that's predominantly for women, the assumption that women don't want to be immersed in a sexual experience just doesn't add up. Rather, throughout the sex tech market, women's voices seem to be minimised.

Lora Dicarlo’s robotic vibrator was stripped of an award and disqualified from entering this year’s Consumer Electronics Show, despite a sex doll for men having been allowed to exhibit in 2018. As recently as 2015, the founders of "Women of Sex Tech" struggled to even open bank accounts related to their sexual entrepreneurship. Vibease itself was banned from Kickstarter before using Indiegogo to get its crowdfunding off the ground. Kickstarter have relaxed their rules now, but while the technology itself has come a long way, it seems its scope for women’s pleasure has not.

Sex tech is expensive to buy and create with, which has led to the business being monopolised by larger brands and companies which serve mainstream porn to mainstream audiences. VR has yet to find its way to more niche markets, such as the personalised videos that Carlos looks forward to. As with all tech, costs eventually lower, which should mean better access for more independent branches of the industry – but the timeline is still young.

As far as relationships go, sex tech updating our everyday toys with more efficient motors and improved designs can only be a good thing – but it doesn’t take away from the fact they are, ultimately, toys. Long distance relationships by nature tend to be more serious, and as long as people's requests aren’t being answered by the sex tech market there’s still plenty of room for improvement. For true sexual democracy, perhaps app-controlled Fleshlights could give more couples the option to have a truly two-way experience and not just put pressure on female participants to have a clitoral orgasm. The nature of an intimate moment can be so quickly ruined, so apps need to also have exceptionally reliable technology so as not to burst the orgasm bubble – something Mia* explained happening on multiple occasions.

With costs lowering and reliability increasing, sex tech may indeed hit the heights it was originally predicted to. Until then, it seems most couples are happy to stick to that old trusty device: the mobile phone.

@dominiqueeloise

*Names have been changed for privacy.

Last Wednesday, the same day someone gunned down a reputed mob boss in front of his Staten Island home, two other men walked out of a federal courtroom after successfully arguing to a jury that the Mafia basically didn't exist anymore. Hours before the murder of Francesco "Frank" Cali, assumed leader of the Gambino crime family, Joseph Cammarano Jr. and John "Porky" Zancocchio—the apparent boss and consigliere of the Bonanno crime family, respectively—were acquitted of racketeering and conspiracy to commit extortion charges when their rather unusual defense seemed to work: Their lawyers claimed they had been wrongly profiled because of their Italian heritage, and that the criminal enterprise they were alleged to be involved with had fallen apart.

That last part has at least some truth to it. The mob certainly doesn't have the sway it possessed in decades past. But the high-profile killing of Cali that night was actually just the latest episode suggesting the mob was resurgent as a force in American culture, if not politics or business. In that case, the reemergence of organized crime less as a public menace and more as a sort of macabre postmodern spectacle was only heightened when a 24-year-old who may have had a romantic interest in Cali's niece was arrested in connection with the murder.

"Mob underbosses don't get killed very often, but the media hype artists went into overdrive last week," Jerry Capeci, who publishes a weekly column on Gangland News, wrote me in an email. "The Cali killing," he noted, "did not feel like a mob hit."

Still, the Mafia had been making headlines in the months preceding the Cali ordeal, and a mini-onslaught of trials, murders, and not-so-violent deaths put a new spotlight on an organization that has, at least in the 21st century, largely tried to avoid it. On Wednesday, the story of Cali's killing and the not-guilty decision handed down to Cammarano and Zancocchio eerily graced the same page of the New York Times, a spread that felt like it belonged more in a 1980s edition of the paper than today's.

"Its ranks have been decimated by RICO prosecutions, but old-school crime families are still active in New York, New Jersey, Philadelphia, and Chicago," Geoff Schumacher, the senior director of content at Las Vegas's Mob Museum, explained in an email. "They try to keep a much lower profile today than they did in, say, the John Gotti era."

In other words, as Ali Watkins wrote in the Times last summer, sometimes these events just serve as "a reminder that those organizations, though weakened, are still here."

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If there's any takeaway, that's it: The Mafia may have changed, but despite what Cammarano and Zancocchio would have you believe, it never really went anywhere. Certainly, America's collective fasciation with the characters hasn't waned. The developing tale around Cali, in particular, contains many of the elements of old-school tabloid sensation: Anthony Comello, the suspected culprit in his death who may have been fixated on a relative; a leafy and lavish neighborhood, one reminiscent of Europe and situated high above the rest of the city, an area that was literally a set on The Godfather; and unsubstantiated blame and leading questions launched at the family of Gotti, Cali's predecessor, about whether or not an internal war was brewing.

But as if in a nod to the changing times, when there was an arrest—of Comello—it didn't take place in Staten Island or Newark. It was on the Jersey Shore.

"This case, as I suspected, is getting more bizarre by the hour," Christian Cipollini, who has written numerous books on the mob and runs the website Gangland Legends, wrote me this week. "And guaranteed this isn't even scratching the surface of what other surprises are likely lurking. Mob history is possibly the strangest, proven time and time again."

In court on Monday, Comello seemed to prove Cipollini's point: The defendant, probably already with a target on his back, dramatically held up his hand. On his palm, Comello had scribbled "MAGA forever… UNITED WE STAND… Patriots in charge," as well as what appeared to be the QAnon symbol, a reference to a conspiracy theory formulated on the idea (among others) that Donald Trump is actually in cahoots with the Mueller investigation, whose real targets may include Hillary Clinton, among others. It wasn't immediately clear if there was any more substantial connection between Comello's apparent invocation of the conspiracy-fixated far right and Cali's shooting—in other words, whether a Staten Island Redditor had decided to get off his couch and, driven by a nonsensical worldview, take out a known crime lord. Certainly, mental illness could not be ruled out.

Leaving the Cali saga aside for a moment, events since last fall have been piling on top of one another, teasing journalists and the public at-large to muse if anything stranger than usual might be going on. Last September, 71-year-old Gene Gotti, the younger brother of the notorious "Dapper Don," was released from prison after serving 29 years for dealing heroin. Meanwhile, a father-and-son pair with ties to the Bonanno family, Sylvester and Salvatore Zottola, respectively, were reportedly hunted throughout the Bronx for the better part of a year—culminating with Salvatore barely escaping an attempt on his life in August, Sylvester getting murdered outside a McDonald's in October, and a high-ranking Blood being arrested after reportedly being paid for the hit. (According to the New York Post, the suspect, Bushawn "Shelz" Shelton, and four others could face the death penalty.) And so far in March alone, the bosses of three of the so-called Five Families have made a splash: There were the Gambinos, with the Cali slaying; the Bonannos, with Cammarano's verdict of innocence; and the Colombos, with the passing away in prison of Carmine Persico, who was said to have ruled from behind bars for much of his adulthood. (The Lucchese and Genovese factions have managed to cause far less of a ripple.)

"People love the mythology of the Five Families—but that's fading," David Shapiro, a lecturer at John Jay College of Criminal Justice and a former FBI agent, told me over the phone. "I don't think we can ever have a renaissance of the Five Families, but we certainly can have a more realistic picture emerging of organized crimes and gangs, as we speak. There's an expectation problem. If people expect it's what it used to be, they're going to have to watch The Godfather or something."

What we really need to grapple with, then, is how our perception of mobsters is shifting—and what acts, precisely, we still believe they're willing (or capable) of committing. The American Mafia has become more realistic—and with that transformation, its reality, at times, has been exaggerated. It's evolved alongside us, even as it's had to, say, adjust its grip on the ports of Newark, adopt to legalized sports gambling, and learn to keep quiet.

At the same time, the mob's place in popular culture has veered more and more toward the absurd. If the Mafia and the people in proximity to it have embraced anything, one might argue, it's ultimately America's taste in entertainment. Fresh off 20 nonstop years of Sopranos nostalgia, this decade has seen the mob squarely leave therapy and enter a new phase: reality TV. In addition to actual reality TV shows (including one on Staten Island) about the mob, the internet age—and the Mafia's fading real-life power—seem to have combined to foment some kind of bizarro new era of self-referential mayhem.

The mob provides us with spectacle after spectacle we may not even realize we've demanded—it forever recognizes our boundaries, our pleasures, our conceptions and misconceptions. We're excited to rip open the vault even if there's nothing inside. To speculate without clear evidence, to wonder with almost no knowledge. Is QAnon and the mob potentially the most ambitious crossover event in history? I'm not sure.

But if it is, pretty soon it won't be—we're already making Twitter jokes about it.

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Os XXIII Premios de Teatro María Casares celebrarán este xoves 21 de marzo no Teatro Rosalía Castro da Coruña unha gala de época, dirixida por Juanillo Esteban e Carlos Sante, na que se trasladará ao público a un pasado glorioso. Para acceder á gala, cómpre invitación, mais o público poderá seguir dende a súa casa […]

The post A gala dos María Casares retransmitirase a través de Youtube appeared first on Erregueté.

FERROL360 | Martes 19 marzo 2019 | 13:17

Podría tratarse de un nuevo reto entre los jóvenes para presumir de sus hazañas en las redes sociales. Este extremo no está confirmado, pero lo que sí sabemos es que un grupo de chicos con edades comprendidas entre los 17 y los 20 años estarían lanzándose a la calzada a ciegas al paso de los vehículos.

Ocurría este lunes en torno a las 20:30 horas en el paso de cebra de la avenida de Vigo con la rotonda de González Llanos. El conductor denunciante circulaba tranquilamente con el semáforo en verde en sentido Canido cuando un joven encapuchado cruzó a su paso corriendo, obligándole a pegar un frenazo y dándole un buen susto.

Asegura que el joven tropezó y se cayó delante del vehículo. Fue entonces cuando comprobó que llevaba un gorro de lana tapándole la cara y que, al otro lado de la calle, estaban dos amigos riéndose y, posiblemente, grabándolo con un móvil. El hombre llamó a la Policía para alertar de lo sucedido porque está convencido de que podría no ser él la única víctima y la práctica podría acabar en tragedia.

Almost as soon as a powerful mob boss was shot and killed—seemingly assassinated—in front of his Staten Island home last week, the temptation to label it a mob hit was compelling.

That Wednesday evening, police have said, a driver slammed a pickup truck into a parked car outside the house of Francesco "Frank" Cali, the reputed leader of the Gambino crime family. That driver then apparently rang the doorbell, prompting Cali to exit the front door of his house and venture out onto the street, where, following a brief discussion, the gunman unloaded a torrent of bullets before fleeing into the night.

Cali was pronounced dead shortly after at Staten Island University Hospital.

It was a scene not much witnessed in recent decades in New York City—the last time a Mafia boss was slain here was in 1985. It captured the tabloids', and the country's, fervent interest. There were reports of Cali's family members running onto the front lawn in tears. There were the quotes from his neighbors, who reiterated that everybody around that (relatively wealthy) area of Staten Island seemed to just keep to themselves. There were the discussions about the motive: Was it some sort of internal power struggle that involved John Gotti's brother? (The infamous Gotti had ruled the family in some form or other until his death in prison in 2002.) Was Cali actually run over with the vehicle, to further underscore some kind of message sent by rivals? Was this just ding dong ditch gone incredibly wrong?

Over the weekend, the saga started to come into sharper focus—but it also got considerably stranger.

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As the New York Times reported, a 24-year-old Staten Island native named Anthony Comello was arrested in New Jersey Saturday, having apparently holed up at a family shore house in Brick. (He was reportedly slated to appear in an Ocean County court as early as Monday.)

Maybe this wasn't an old-fashioned whacking, after all: Though law-enforcement officials cautioned that the investigation was ongoing, some told the Times the killing could have been spurred by romantic longing gone wrong: Comello—who lived at home and did some construction gigs—may have had an interest in one of Cali's relatives, specifically a niece, according to the New York Post.

"I was shocked, initially, that it's alleged to be a private vendetta, or a private agenda," David Shapiro, a lecturer at John Jay College of Criminal Justice and former FBI agent, told me over the phone, cautioning the motive wasn't yet certain. "That does surprise me."

The general idea seems to be that Cali nixed any potential relationship between Comello and his unnamed relative.

"The investigation is far from over. We do not believe this is a random act," the NYPD chief of detectives, Dermot Shea, stated on Saturday, according to Rolling Stone. "We are well aware of Mr. Cali's past. That will be a part of this investigation as we determine what was the motive for the incident on Wednesday evening."

Comello's fingerprints were reportedly lifted from a license plate that he had handed Cali prior to the shooting (it had fallen off a car at the gangster's home during the crash), seemingly gifting the world a piece of evidence that could link him to the crime. The beat-up truck was discovered around the time of his arrest in Jersey. According to the Daily News, Comello inched toward some kind of self-defense claim, and indicated he may have smoked weed prior to the shooting.

But Comello had no serious criminal background, according to a previous Times report summarizing the arrest, even if he was briefly investigated over "his strange behavior in a federal courthouse," and if, consequently, he had "any history of terroristic threats."

On Sunday, Comello's lawyer, Robert Gottlieb, told the Post his client would waive extradition from New Jersey to New York City, in order to confront the allegations—charges were expected to include murder—head on.

It's yet another bizarre turn in case already filled with them. Last week, there was already some initial suspicion this wasn't a mob hit, as it was once said to be considered poor taste to whack a mobster in front of his home, near his family. But the Mafia, obviously, isn't quite what it used to be. It has simultaneously become more embedded in American pop culture—we compare Donald Trump's diction to that of a mob boss; we celebrate the 20-year anniversary of the premiere of The Sopranos and the developing prequel film; we watch mob-related reality television shows—as its actual sway has dwindled. It was once famously taboo, for instance, to "rat" on your associates; now, John Gotti's daughter appears on VH-1 with the daughter of Salvatore "Sammy the Bull" Gravano, who flipped on the "Dapper Don" and helped hand him to the authorities.

Cali's death led to an onrush of articles about the quiet evolution of the Mafia in America—how its direct influence declined, and how it's been keeping quieter in recent years. It also invited pieces on Todt Hill, the lavish and lush-green Staten Island neighborhood known for its long history of mob denizens, where the slain mobster lived.

The folklore around the killing, it would seem, has just begun. And some in the Mafia may not be happy about that.

"I do think the days where the mob would be willing to tolerate allegations of family wars across the headlines of the New York Times are over," Shapiro said. "Those are bad for business. Notoriety and infamy do not work toward their benefit. It's better, now, to be under the radar."

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Andre Williams, R&B singer, songwriter, and producer, has died at the age of 82 on March 17. Originally known for a string of often raunchy hits on various Detroit labels in the 1950's and 60's, his career was derailed in the 70's and 80's thanks to addiction. By the 90's he had cleaned up and gotten a second wind with the assistance of a variety of younger "garage rock" bands, leading to a series of albums and tours with artists as varied as The Sadies, The Dirtbombs, and Green Hornet. Blog review of a live show in Cleveland, 2010.

Jail Bait from 1957.

Bacon Fat from 1956.

Only Black Man in South Dakota from 1998. (image probably NSFW)

Detroit, Michigan from 2001.

Detroit Freep obituary

Wikipedia.

Previously on MetaFilter.

Another "previously" covering the 2008 documentary about Willams, "Agile, Mobile, Hostile."

En la madrugada del 1 al 2 de enero de 1921, en los Baixos de Meixide, una zona rocosa en la entrada de la ría de Arousa, se abrían paso entre el oleaje parte de una chimenea y un mástil de proa. A su alrededor, un cementerio. Escombros, maletas, baúles y cadáveres. La noche antes, la mayor parte de los vecinos de Sálvora, la isla más cercana, celebraban el año nuevo en los pueblos de Aguiño y Carreira, al otro lado de la ría. Por eso, cuando el transatlántico Santa Isabel se empezó a hundir alrededor de la una de la madrugada, pocos fueron los que escucharon los gritos de los náufragos y acudieron a su rescate. Pocos porque, además, en aquella época el islote de 1,9 kilómetros cuadrados de superficie lo habitaban menos de sesenta personas que trabajaban las tierras de la familia Otero-Goyanes y un farero. Nadie más.

Apenas dos pequeñas embarcaciones de pesca pudieron llegar a tiempo de rescatar a algunos pasajeros. Cuando el vapor Cabo Menor pasó por la zona en su ruta hacia Villagarcía unas horas más tarde, ya no había nadie a quien rescatar. En el puerto de A Coruña, donde esperaban la llegada del buque, se enteraron sobre la hora de comer de que el Santa Isabel "se había perdido". De las 269 personas registradas a bordo murieron 213, en uno de los accidentes más luctuosos de la historia de la navegación civil española. El 'Titanic' gallego, lo llaman.

"Escenas horribles". "Más de doscientos ahogados". "Un horrible siniestro en la ría de Arosa". 'La voz de Galicia' abrió dos días después su portada con el suceso, del que todavía se tenían informaciones contradictorias. Casi un siglo después, el cine recupera la historia del naufragio: este mes de marzo ha comenzado en Sálvora, San Vicente y O Grove el rodaje de 'El Santa Isabel', el primer largometraje de la coruñesa Paula Cons, protagonizado por Aitor Luna, Nerea Barros y Darío Grandinetti. El tiempo es el mejor disolvente y hoy, fuera de las costas gallegas, apenas nadie recuerda lo que entonces fue una tragedia nacional.

Este marzo ha comenzado el rodaje de 'El Santa Isabel', el primer largo de Paula Cons, protagonizado por Aitor Luna y Nerea Barros

El Santa Isabel hizo su primer viaje en octubre de 1916; apenas aguantó en servicio cuatro años. Era propiedad de la Compañía Transatlántica Española, propiedad del marqués de Comillas, y que lo había mandado construir en los astilleros de la Sociedad Española de Construcción Naval en Matagorda (Cádiz) y matricular en Barcelona como barco de pasaje y carga. Medía 88,85 metros de eslora y tenía capacidad para 460 pasajeros. Sus ocho botes salvavidas tenían capacidad para 390 personas.

Muchos de los pasajeros procedían de Bilbao y Santander y se habían embarcado en dirección a Cádiz para hacer conexión con el Reina Victoria Eugenia que el día 7 partiría hacia Buenos Aires y Montevideo. Como cargamento curioso transportaba además un altar que un devoto gallego mandó a los Padres Misioneros de la catedral de Santa Isabel en Fernando Poo, la actual Malabo (Guinea Ecuatorial).

El choque fue rudísimo, y por esta circunstancia se supone que el boquete que se debió haber abierto en el casco fue enorme

El transatlántico había salido el 30 de diciembre de 1920 del puerto de Bilbao en dirección Santander. De allí había hecho parada en A Coruña, de dónde salió el día 1 de enero en torno a la una de la tarde, tres horas antes de lo previsto, con destino a Villagarcía, primero, y Vigo y Cádiz después. Pero siquiera llegó a Villagarcía. A medio camino el Santa Isabel se encontró con un temporal que le impidió orientarse por los faros de Corrubedo y la isla de Ons. "Un chaparrón fortísimo, una verdadera manga de agua, de esas que ciegan realmente y apenas dejan ver, cayó como una tromba sobre el buque minutos antes de ocurrir el siniestro, a la una y media próximamente, y el barco, abatido por el oleaje, fue a chocar a babor contra las restingas de la isla de Sálvora, situada a la entrada de Villagarcía y próxima a Punta Falcoeira. El choque fue rudísimo, y por esta circunstancia se supone que el boquete que se debió haber abierto en el casco fue enorme", describió la portada de 'La voz de Galicia' del 4 de enero.

En el momento del impacto, que ocurrió a primera hora de la madrugada, el pasaje dormía. La mayor parte de los viajeros de tercera clase murieron en sus literas. Sobre la 1.30, el capitán Esteban G. Muñiz ordenó abandonar la nave. De los ocho botes salvavidas, sólo pudieron arriarse tres: los dos primeros acabaron estrellados contra la roca por el oleaje, el tercero, el número ocho, consiguió aguantar hasta que los vecinos de la isla de Sálvora los recataron. Algunos de los que decidieron nadar mar adentro para evitar las rocas también resistieron. Sobrevivieron 29 pasajeros y 27 tripulantes, entre ellos el capitán.

De los ocho botes salvavidas, sólo pudieron arriarse tres; los dos primeros acabaron estrellados contra la roca por el oleaje

"Los momentos debieron (sic) ser de una gran angustia, porque se sabe que el transatlántico a la una y media de la madrugada del domingo expidió un radiograma pidiendo socorro repetidamente", continúa la noticia de 'La voz de Galicia'. Pero al barco no le dio tiempo a mandar el mensaje completo y en la estación radiográfica de Finisterre sólo supieron que algo le había ocurrido al Santa Isabel, pero ni el qué ni el cómo. "Expidió entonces el radiografista un despacho llamando al buque y preguntándole su situación para poder enviarle los auxilios que demandaba con tal urgencia; pero por más que hizo el funcionario, ya no consiguió que desde el navío le contestasen".

De entre las tres pequeñas embarcaciones de pescadores que salieron aquella noche —dos a rescatar a los náufragos y una a dar el aviso en Ribeira— hubo una tripulada por tres mujeres, María Fernández Oujo, Josefa Parada y Cipriana Oujo —de 14, 16 y 24 años, respectivamente— que salvaron a entre 15 y 20 personas, y en tierra, Cipriana Crujeiras, ofreció a los náufragos comida y ropa seca, lo que les valió a todas la Cruz de Tercera Clase con Distintivo Negro y Blanco del Consejo de Estado y la medalla de Salvamento Marítimo.

Sin embargo, la historia del naufragio acabó cayendo en el olvido. En la isla las protagonistas quisieron olvidar aquella noche en la que vieron más gente morir que llegar a tierra firme; a algunos tuvieron que golpearles con los remos para evitar que volcasen la barca. Los vecinos, a quien las malas lenguas —siempre hay malas lenguas— acusaron de 'raqueiros', es decir, de quedarse con las pertenencias de las víctimas, también prefirieron dejar atrás aquella noche de Año Nuevo. En las décadas siguientes, la isla se fue despoblando hasta quedar desierta en 1970, y nadie volvió a recordar el suceso hasta que en 1998 el escritor Xosé María Fernández Pazos publicó 'Sálvora: Memoria de un naufragio'. y ahora, la película de Cons, cuyo estreno está previsto para comienzos de 2020, pretende hacer justicia y rescatar a su vez a los héroes de la historia de hundirse en la sima del tiempo.

GALIZA | Preguntado en Radio Voz polas Eleccións Xerais e a situación na Galiza, Breogán Riobóo afirmou: “Agardo que o BNG teña un bo resultado, teñen o meu voto”.

O propio Riobóo reproduciu nun tuit a resposta que deu na radio: “Hoxe en Radio Voz preguntáronme polas eleccións xerais e a situación en Galicia. Resposta: Anova renuncia por non ter postos de saída, Podemos e Esquerda Unida rompen En Marea para ter máis poder. Así que agardo que o Bloque teña un bo resultado, teñen o meu voto”.

Breogán Riobóo foi o primeiro Secretario Xeral de Podemos na Galiza, até que en febreiro de 2016, pir discrepancias con Pablo Iglesias, foi destituído e a dirección que encabezaba disolta desde Madrid.

Non é a primeira vez nestes meses que Riobóo se manifesta favorábel ao BNG. De feito na súa conta de Twitter ten fixado un tuit en que, recollendo o anuncio de Suso de Toro de ter solicitado a afiliación ao BNG, comenta: “Coido que Suso de Toro non será o último. Haberá máis xente que se incorpore “ex novo” ou de novo ao Bloque”.

Whether you were a nerdy collector, a friend dared you or it was an honest mistake while you were looking for a copy of Call of Duty, you will have been into a Games Workshop store at least once in your life. Chances are, once inside the high street home of Warhammer, you noticed it was populated exclusively by men.

However, women do play. I spoke to some about the gender split in the world of Warhammer.

EMILY

"For me personally, the main aspect of the hobby that I enjoy is building and painting them, and seeing them come to life. It's really relaxing. The Hell Pit Abomination [pictured below] took me a day-and-a-half. I love the look on people's faces when they see these fully-painted creatures; it's something that just makes me very excited to continue doing it.

"But some of the past miniatures – and even some of the ones today – can cause a problem. The whole culture around this hobby is very male-dominated, and I think men can sometimes find it quite difficult to understand what is crossing the line for the female aesthetic. Don’t get me wrong, I understand in the 80s it was all about "big boobs, curvy hips and a big ass holding Gatling guns with very little armour", but it's not like that in 2019. If they were just to tweak them slightly I think they'd be more appealing. Whether [Games Workshop] need to hire more women, whether they need to have surveys done by women, I think it would benefit them hugely in the long run."

JASMINE

"This is my Cave drake. I really like the model's design, as it looks super cool and it really gave me license to go with any colour. The game itself has played a really important role during the hard times of my life, and having that escapism and focus has really helped me personally. I also love how everyone is really accessible, and being close to the games designers [who are often active in fan Facebook groups] has made it into the great game that it is today. Winning the Team World Championships last year was a real highlight for me.

"I'm not treated differently [from men]. We are all playing the same game and all have the same chances and potential to win, and on and off the table I am treated fairly and have no problems. That said, it would be really nice to have more girls playing."

GEORGIE

"I've always loved the fantasy genre of fiction, as well as board gaming. I started Warhammer around six months ago, and everyone has been nothing but welcoming, whether in the physical Games Workshop store or through my Instagram account. I've been supported and given great advice from both males and females alike. It can be difficult being a female in any male-dominated hobby, but this isn't something I've personally experienced. There are lots of females getting into the hobby too, which is awesome, and there's an incredibly supportive female network. Everyone in the community has made me feel accepted and I haven't felt uncomfortable being a female hobbyist.

"The Nighthaunt Lord Executioner is the miniature I had the most fun painting. Warhammer is an awesome creative outlet and something completely different. It's definitely challenging teaching yourself to paint something at such small scale."

NOVA

"The Ultramarine is a model that I finished most recently. I’m so proud of him. I haven’t painted Space Marines in a long time, but the sculpts for the Primaris are fantastic. He was a test of how much detail I could get onto a model, so I spent a week on him.

"I love the competitive side of things. I had a very competitive Blood Angels list I took to tournaments in the fifth edition [around 2008]. I went a total of 63 wins, six losses with that, but still, there are sometimes assumptions that I don't know as much about the hobby, or that I’m not as competitive. That usually ends with people's shocked faces when I table them on turn three.

"Sometimes you do get some interesting interactions where I'd get overshadowed by men’s opinions. There's also a lot of assumptions that this isn’t a hobby I’d enjoy, even though I’m there enjoying it. Or from certain members of the hobby assuming your lack of knowledge, or lack of ability. You have to get to an attitude where it's like, actually, I need to prove this [person] wrong, so then maybe the next time this person goes into a situation like this, they won't have the assumption that a woman won’t know what she's doing."

KRISTEN

"I'm really proud of the colour scheme I got on these Elves – I managed to capture the tones from the movies really well, which can be a challenge. I love the aesthetic of Peter Jackson's Elven battle equipment. As a teenager I was super into Lord of the Rings and quite artistic, so when I went into a Games Workshop one day thinking it was a video game shop and saw these cool miniatures, I decided to have a go at them.

"The biggest thing I've noticed is that the Games Workshop stores are just so uninviting. I feel like an alien when I go in there – literally everything stops, customers and staff alike, and it's just a really weird vibe. It's just not a great experience. For many people that’s the first step into the hobby, and I think to really grow the audience the first step is to revamp the in-store experience.

"In some hobbies you can get a lot of negativity around women and their accomplishments, but the reception online in the Middle Earth communities has been great. I think it's just the kind of people that like Lord of the Rings, really – we're all good folk!"

§

Different people have different experiences in a hobby, as they do in life, but it’s interesting to see how the hobbyists who are in the minority approach Warhammer, and how they interact with miniatures that don’t always fairly represent them, and a community that sometimes struggles to even speak to them. Evidently, some players have less of a problem with it than others, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there.

The miniatures and attitudes of Warhammer are slowly coming into the 21st century to represent and include everyone who plays. There’s still a way to go, but things are improving, especially for new players. The immediate future of Warhammer holds brand new and eagerly anticipated Sisters of Battle miniatures – who are an all-female order of fighting space-nuns – and perhaps that’s just the start.

@BenSledge

Dick Dale, the "King of the Surf Guitar," has died at age 81. RIP, maestro. Dale's pioneering sound was inspired by his Lebanese uncle who played the oud and taught his nephew the tarabaki, a goblet-shaped drum. Dale's 1961 instrumental "Let's Go Trippin'," recorded with his band The Del-Tones, sparked the vibrant surf rock scene that spawned the Beach Boys. Dale was shredding right up until his death. RIP, maestro. From The Guardian:

Born Richard Anthony Monsour in May 1937, Dale developed his distinctive sound by adding to instrumental rock influences from his Middle Eastern heritage, along with a “wet” reverb sound and his rapid alternative picking style.

In 2011, he told the Miami New Times that the hectic drumming of Gene Krupa, along with the “screams” of wild animals and the sound and sensation of being in the ocean inspired his sound.

It's been a year since the music links on Myspace stopped working; at first the company insisted that they were working on it, but now they've admitted that all those files are lost: "As a result of a server migration project, any photos, videos, and audio files you uploaded more than three years ago may no longer be available on or from Myspace. We apologize for the inconvenience and suggest that you retain your back up copies. If you would like more information, please contact our Data Protection Officer, Dr. Jana Jentzsch at DPO@myspace.com."

Yeah, apparently they don't have a backup.

Someday, this will happen to Facebook, Instagram, Tumblr, etc. Don't trust the platforms to archive your data. The Internet Archive will host anything freely distributable, for free, forever, and they have mirrors of their servers in California, Egypt and Amsterdam. They're a mission-driven nonprofit supported by philanthropists, foundations, and small-money donations (I'm an annual donor).

(via JWZ)

(Image: UNTHA)

O destacamento Manuel Bello, da IV Agrupación do Exército Guerrilleiro, seguindo orientacións da dirección da organización, viuse obrigado a desprazarse á comarca da Barcala, fuxindo da represión existente nas zonas onde operaba habitualmente. O grupo estaba formado naquela altura por Xosé María Castelo Mosquera “Doutor ou Casteliño”, natural de Oleiros e xefe do destacamento; Vicente Peña Terrasa “Pedro Borrás”, antigo suboficial da armada e comisario político; Manuel Pena Camino “O Dios ou O Flores”, antigo responsábel militar do Eduardo Xaneiro e na clandestinidade desde xullo de 1936; Manuel Ramiro Souto, albanel de Culleredo morto nun enfrontamento armado en Mesía en 1952, e Carme Temprano Salorio, veciña de Oleiros e anteriormente integrante do grupo de Xoán Couto Sanjurjo “Simeón”. Os membros do comando formaban un colectivo con longa experiencia na loita guerrilleira, procedentes os máis deles do antigo destacamento Eive Carbón e cunha práctica militante destacada nas áreas coruñesas, mariñás e ferrolás.

 

O comando permaneceu agochado durante meses nunha casa propiedade de Manuela Teiga no lugar de Zas, parroquia de Aro, concello de Negreira. A longa estadía na vivenda, incumprindo todas as normas de seguridade que marcaba a clandestinidade, debeuse fundamentalmente á grave doenza sufrida por Carme Temprano a consecuencia dun aborto. Segundo se recolle nun informe elaborado por Francisco Rei Balbís “Moncho”, máximo responsábel da IV Agrupación, seguindo a información achegada polo membro do destacamento Manuel Ramiro Souto, “Carme Temprano, compañeira de Castelo, a consecuencia dun aborto feito con medicinas caseiras atopábase mal” até o punto de requirir a presenza dun médico. Ao tempo, o comando, dislocado á comarca da Barcala a finais de decembro de 1948, carecía dun coñecemento preciso da zona, sendo probábel que non contasen co tempo debido de dotarse dunha rede de enlaces e de casas de seguridade dabondo ampla.

 

Ás 8.30 horas da mañá do 5 de marzo de 1949 a vivenda propiedade de Carme Teiga Rojo aparece cercada por un amplo número de efectivos da Garda Civil. Os membros do comando, a maior parte deles xa curtidos en enfrontamentos armados coas forzas da orde, abriron fogo contra os axentes da benemérita, lanzando algunhas granadas que lles permitisen de xeito relativamente doado saltar o cordón policial. Porén, mentres fuxían da casa, acompañados de Manuela Teiga, unha sobriña da propietaria convertida en enlace e que decidiu pasar á clandestinidade para librase da represión, Carme Temprano foi malferida por un disparo, obrigando o seu propio compañeiro, Xosé María Castelo Mosquera, a quitarlle a vida. Carme Temprano, unha das grandes mulleres da guerrilla galega que xa fora ferida en agosto de 1948 nun combate en Abegondo coincidindo coa queima da casa do concello da localidade, será enterrada esa mesma tarde no cemiterio de Aro.

 

[Podes ler a información íntegra no número 338 de Sermos Galiza, á venda na loxa e nos quiosques]

BOSTON — Celtic punk stalwarts Dropkick Murphys settled their debts today after receiving payment for their increased Spotify plays leading up to St. Patrick’s Day, according to multiple sources to whom the band owed money.

“I love those guys to death, but it’s the same song and dance every single year,” lamented Kevin Kelly, the band’s landlord and father of drummer Matt Kelly. “I’m just glad the check cleared before they showed up with yet another band member. We’re running out of couch space… and someone keeps drinking all of my beer.”

Jeff Castelaz, the bands’ manager, agreed.

“This never used to happen back in the day — tours and merch sales would carry us through the year. But they get so excited whenever a check comes now that they overextend themselves,” said Castelaz. “Last year, they bought these ridiculous monogrammed kilts to wear to a friend’s wedding… but now refuse to wear them again. What am I supposed to do? Try to sell these things to Flogging Molly?”

Lead singer Al Barr admitted the band sometimes fosters a more lavish lifestyle than they can afford.

“Yeah, when summer rolls around, we really live it up,” confirmed Barr. “A few years ago, we added all these gold shamrocks to the bagpipes, and then Ken [Casey] paid the cast of Cheers to hang out at James [Lynch]’s birthday party. But by mid-November, we were tapped out — I had to get a new credit card just to buy more black jeans and scally caps.”

“Not even a World Series win from the Red Sox and the shit-ton of people streaming ‘Tessie’ made a dent that year,” he added. “Thank God for March, bro.”

Spotify accountant Ebba Johansson described how the band’s annual rises and drops in popularity affect the service.

“We learned our lesson the first year: the March payout from ‘Kiss Me, I’m Shitfaced’ alone was bad enough. And don’t get me started on ‘Shipping Up To Boston,’” said Johansson. “It nearly bankrupted us — it sure ruined our quarter. We’re always so grateful for April, when everyone basically forgets the band exists.”

For his part, Castelaz has been pursuing other income opportunities for the Dropkicks.

“Scorsese’s next film is literally called The Irishman. If I can’t get a song on that soundtrack… Jesus Christ, I’ll probably get fired,” said Castelaz. “And they’d be right to do it! If I could only get them to cover ‘Gimme Shelter,’ I know we’d be OK.”

The post Dropkick Murphys Able to Pay Rent Again After March Spotify Royalty Check appeared first on The Hard Times.

Galiza continúa a sumar experiencia e títulos no seu percorrido pola participación en campionatos internacionais en fútbol gaélico, un deporte que en menos dunha década de práctica no noso país xa se asentou tanto a nivel competitivo - liga propia, selección nacional - como afección.

 

Esta fin de semana a selección nacional galega feminina e masculina de fútbol gaélico tomaron parte no Trofeo Internacional de Madrid, un torneo no que competiron 10 equipas en ambas as súas categorías. Galiza proclamouse campioa en categoría feminina apos derrotar na final ao Madrid Harps mentres ficou vicecampión na masculina.

 

Como recoñecen desde a propia selección galega, esta competición é un “torneo de carácter amistoso pero cun gran nivel competitivo”. Esta elevada e contrastada calidade dos equipos que participan na copa dos “Harps” é o que motivou a participación de Galiza, “porque o obxectivo principal das nosas seleccións en Madrid non é outro que o de coller minutos, experiencia e bagaxe competitiva no camiño preparatorio dos GAA World Games,”.