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Do Not Erase

@thelogicalghost

she/her, USA. Fandoms, humanitarianism, and shitposting. All of the following GTFO: Nazis, TERFs, MAPs, anti-Semites

Ever since I got a job as a security guard I can’t take heist movies seriously anymore.

Why is that?

Accurate heist movie: The Team is sneaking into a high security facility. An alarm is triggered, they freeze, prepared to knock out whoever responds to the alarm. It takes 40 minutes for someone to respond. When they finally do show up, they shuffle along, annoyed, arms full of 16 bags of pretzels for some reason, and reset the alarm without bothering to check their surroundings. They report that the alarm went off in error. Security control starts a fight about the correct designation of the door. The guard announces that they’re leaving the alarm key in the alarm because it’s always going off for no reason. No one challenges them on this. They shuffle away, leaving an alarm key and several bags of pretzels behind.

The Team knocks out a security guard and steals their radio. The team mimic can perfectly replicate the knocked out guard’s voice. They get caught because they pronounced the name of the company correctly.

The Team disables an alarm. The only way to do this is to rip it out of the wall and disassemble it until it physically can’t make noise anymore. This very loud process is clearly heard by the posted security guard nearby, who rolls their eyes and text their supervisor that the logistics contractors are fooling with the alarms again.

The Team breaks into the facility at night. There they meet a single security guard who is chanting potential names for NPCs in their DnD campaign out loud while they do their patrols. They encounter a fire extinguisher. They pause in their chanting to check that it is properly charged and to apply a sticker that reads, “Anal use only”. This guy is disgustingly good at their job. There’s no way around it, they’re going to catch you. And you’re going to have to deal with the fact that you’ve been had by someone who has a supply of stickers that say “Anal use only” and who unironically wanted to name their NPC shopkeep Mammogrammus.

The Team attempts to bribe a security guard. This is its own post but know there’s no way in hell that would work.

The Team breaks into the high security room and disables all the alarms. Security control sends several guards to investigate why there are no alarms going off.

The Team attempts to break into the high security room but can’t because it’s randomly decided not to let anyone at all in today.

The Team steals a keycard with “””””unlimited””””” access to the facility and gets caught because the computer system that manages keycards randomly revokes access for no reason.

The Team walks past a security guard in broad daylight wearing T-shirts that say, “We are here to rob you”. The security guard does nothing, having seen several people in logistics wearing that exact shirt two days prior.

This sounds like a great movie, honestly

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I will always remember that when I worked for a pharmaceutical company in IT, there were massive security procedures, systems with air gaps, locations with biometric scanners and metal detectors and locking revolving doors, but the highest level of security was a human being in a bulletproof proof room with line of sight to the door and a button. To /get/ to the door, you had to go through tons of other layers and badge access and identity verification, but the final lock was a dual physical key (which required two people to open) and a human being with a book of photographs and a button to push.

At the onset of the 2008-onward recession it became more or less impossible to get the sort of summer gig that college students traditionally get. I couldn’t get a callback from any of the area fast food restaurants, the babysitting gigs were gone, I drew blanks on waitressing, dishwashing, landscaping, car washes, summer camps, you name it. The big local summer attraction near me is a horse racetrack, and I put in apps for every position from betting clerk to horse manure removal tech. I got one (1) job offer that summer, and it was to be a security guard. I was a 19 year old girl with a perky ponytail, big ol’ doe eyes, and no experience or interest whatsoever in policing, so I genuinely thought I’d gotten the offer because they’d confused my application with someone else’s… until the first day of training.

Training consisted of a number of retired high ranking New York State Troopers very earnestly trying to convince a room of “dudes who desperately wanted to be a cop but couldn’t jump even that low hurdle” and also “one increasingly incredulous 19 year old girl who could only hear a loud high pitched note in one ear because she stood too close to her amps at the punk show last night” not to bring swords, shurukens, or butterfly knives into work.

We went over the “do not bring in your own weapons” lecture for the majority of day 1 of training. Day 2 was also “do not bring in your own weapons” for a lot of the day, then we moved onto “identifying the different types of fire extinguisher,” and wrapped up the day with “wasp stings.” Well, actually during “wasp stings” we had a sidebar when this one guard who looked like Ben Franklin raised his hand and shared that he, personally, took care of wasps by blowing their nests up with improvised gasoline-based explosives, so technically we wrapped up the day with “do not bring in your own weapons even if those weapons are to harm a wasp.”

Day 3 was a half day, where we reviewed everything we’d learned about no weapons, fire extinguishers, and wasps, and then we took a written test, which I finished with a perfect score in three minutes so Sargeant Minetti made me grade everyone else’s. After that, I was a full ass security guard; I picked up my fake cop uniform, badge(!!!), tiny notebook, strapped a walkie to my belt, and was given my assignment. My beat was very very literally the most public facing one that existed; while most of my colleagues were posted at gates that might never get opened for the entire summer, I had “the wholeass quarter mile of pavement abutting the chain link fence that separated the public from the ponies.” My responsibilities were simple:

1. tell people to move their rolling coolers out of the fire lane

2. take people with wasp stings to the nurse

and oh yeah

3. every time a clerk at a betting window in my section accumulated more than $10,000 dollars in cash, I had to escort them for ½ of a mile through the incredibly dense crowd of drunk people, any of whom might be interested in stealing more than $10,000 dollars, and get the money safely into the giant vault.

I remember the very first run i made. The betting clerk looked at me, the 19 year old responsible for protecting both them and $10,000. I looked back at him through the mirrored aviators that I’d bought at a gas station for 5 bucks because I thought it was very very funny and good fake cop cosplay. My walkie hissed ominously.

“…Uh, so if someone tries to take the money, what are you going to do?” He asked.

“Well, I get paid 12 bucks an hour, so… nothing.” I responded. “How about you?”

We quickly arrived at an understanding.

Two of the guards from my training group got fired that summer for bringing in their own weapons, and at least one of them had both a butterfly knife and at least one shuruken. Many more dropped out as they discovered that they would not actually be doing Die Hard shit. As for me, I did literally nothing to prevent crime all summer, but I also halfheartedly cleared a path through the crowd at the front of a very sad “St. Patrick’s Day In July” parade, which made me enough of a success story that they actually called me unprompted to ask if I’d come back the next year… with one caveat.

See, the next year I returned as a weathered veteran with a spotless disciplinary record, so they gave me three hours of additional training to get a certification to become a peace officer. As a result, from ages 20-23 (when my license expired) I had the same legal powers of arrest as a police officer.

Me. They just gave me that.

In conclusion, if you’re a highly qualified team of heistmen looking to rob an entity that accumulates wealth by convincing drunk desperate people to give them their money and you pick a fucking casino when the racetrack is right there, you’re either thinking way too inside the box… or you have a healthy fear of shurukens I guess.

Only valid response to this post, everyone else can go home.

rocky horror is the worst and is also transmisogynistic can we please finally get over this shit movie

ok but like the writer is transgender nonbinary and the language used in the play was the preferred language by trans people of that time can we not deny parts of our history because we’ve evolved since then thanks

So fucking much this.

PS, youth of today: you’ll be saying the same damn thing about art from this time before too long, for good or for ill. Terminology will, in fact, change. Definitions will, in fact, shift. It always does, they always do. 

PPS, it is pretty much impossible to overstate how life-alteringly important this movie was to kids who didn’t conform to standard expectations of gender and sexuality, back in the day. Especially when back in the day was the mid-to-late 1980s, when the only queers you saw on TV were neutered AIDS tragedies, Bowie was playing straight, and even Elton John was married to a woman, and midnight showing of RHPS were pretty much the only place that felt like home. It was mental life raft for a lot of people.

I was one of them.

ALSO IT’S A SATIRE IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE AN “OFFENSIVE” PORTRAYAL IT’S MAKING FUN OF STRAIGHT PEOPLE WHO ARE AFRAID OF US IT’S EXAGGERATING THEIR IDEAS OF US TO THE POINT OF LUDICROUSNESS THAT’S THE ACTUAL POINT

also you fail to understand just how many, many people were allowed to be queer for Tim Curry and how many doors that began to open

we say this as someone who was in several closets and first saw the film when we were 18 and that was 1981 ffs this film MATTERED

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Rocky Horror kept me alive.

Rocky Horror kept me alive too.

It promised me that if I waited I could get out and find my people.

i’m starting a movement to stop calling this shit “artificial intelligence” cause it’s fucking not. it’s not intelligent, and the things it produces are not informed by logical choices. it doesn’t know how to research sources for you. it doesn’t compose art thoughtfully or meaningfully.

call it machine-generated, text generator, chat bot, but it’s not intelligent.

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I know this is from Australia but when I first saw the words “Victorian man” all I could think of was this:

To be fair imagine you just arrived in 2018 from Victorian England and discovered Take On Me, what are you supposed to do, not blast it loud enough for your family to hear it all the way back in 1876?

sometimes I randomly think about the time a girl posted in this girls only Facebook group I’m in telling everyone how she broke up with her boyfriend and he lied saying that he lost the spare key she gave him, only to then break into her apartment when she wasn’t home and steal the cat they’d adopted while they were together, but then he denied having done this and she didn’t really have proof that he took the cat since he wouldn’t let her come into his place and look for it. And then another girl saw this post and knew her ex-boyfriend, and she was like “girl. I used to hook up with your mans back in xxxx and I still have his number. If you want, I’ll hit him up and get him to invite me back to his place and see if your cat’s there.” And the OP was like “bet.”

So this woman hit up homie dog, asked him out for drinks, went home with him, slept with him, and then woke up in the middle of the night and TOOK THE CAT. Like she had only said that she would confirm if the cat was there but then she took it upon herself to steal this woman’s cat back. Like she full on Trojan horsed this man and then hit up homegirl like “I got the goods. Where you wanna meet.” And then the two of them posted a photo of them together with the cat to the group.

And I just think women supporting women is so beautiful.

In excruciating detail, what is the entire plot of the unreleased second season of the hit show Good Omens?

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I'm so glad someone has finally asked me. Crowley and Aziraphale, who in this season are both undertakers in Birmingham, and their wives, Dottie and Sadie, go on holiday together to the South of France. The boys get very drunk at a wine tasting, and their wives have to bring them home to the hotel, where Aziraphale (still drunk) puts on the gorilla costume he finds in a closet. Imagine Crowley's shock, when he sees a gorilla climbing out of the window of the hotel! Now, it just so happens that a master spy who looks exactly like Aziraphale hid the microfilm plans for a missile in Crowley's bathroom, and has returned to obtain the microfilm, which is hidden in a book of naughty seaside postcards that Dottie found earlier and threw out of the window. When the police turn up looking for the gorilla, they find the master spy but think it's actually Aziraphale. Fortunately Sadie realises that the pineapple-shaped birthmark has vanished from Aziraphale's left elbow which means that he's an imposter and she and Dottie set out to rescue him in his gorilla costume from the circus that he's been sold to by an unscrupulous animal welfare centre operative. And then there are lots of cats and horses. The end. It's really good.

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Did I ever tell you how I got kicked from Chess club back in school?

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Ok, so, as I’ve mentioned occasionally, I used to also be in the school theater troupe, and for a role, I learned basic sleight of hand, the kind magicians use for such stunts like card tricks and ball tricks. Mind you, I wasn’t doing Criss Angel Mindfreak levels of shit or redefining the capital H in Houdini, but I knew how to do basic sleight of hand with small objects, which I used for party tricks and other such parlor tomfoolery.

But I realized I wasn’t using my newfound power to its full extent, so I got an idea one day. I arrived early to the chess clubroom and pocketed a few extra pieces from the other chessboards (which didn’t matter, the club never had enough members to actually use all of the chessboards at any one time), then I challenged the club prez to a game. Now, this guy already didn’t like me too much, dude was kind of a cunt and held a grudge against me because my cousin ended up with one of his crushes and then I ended up with his next crush, so he had bloodline beef with us. So he accepts to the match and we set up the board.

Now, this guy was pretty good at chess, objectively better than myself, but I wasn’t here to win, not at the game, at least. We start playing, it starts pretty even as we develop our units, he castles better and faster than I, and then starts putting pressure on me. It’s at this point, the midgame, where my Belmont to his Dracula would shine in full force: Whenever he looked away (to answer someone’s question about where to find something or about some chess rule), I would put One (1) pawn down from my sleeve. 

Initially he didn’t notice, but he did look twice at some placements. But as time went on, he started to visibly grow frustrated and confused, until it became so fucking ridiculous and obvious that he called a pause and counted a total of 14 black pawns on the board (you only have 8 pawns, for reference), at which point I couldn’t hold my laughter anymore. He starts insulting me, I look behind him, to the door, and pretend I’m addressing a teacher that had just come into the room, he turns around, sees no one had actually entered the room, and when he looks back at me and the board, there was suddenly a second black queen next to his king and I just fucking lose it when he makes one of the faces of all time and starts saying colorful things about mine mother.

Anyways I got banned from Chess club after that but it was worth it.

this story is literally this meme

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Did I ever tell you how I got kicked from Chess club back in school?

Avatar
Image

Ok, so, as I’ve mentioned occasionally, I used to also be in the school theater troupe, and for a role, I learned basic sleight of hand, the kind magicians use for such stunts like card tricks and ball tricks. Mind you, I wasn’t doing Criss Angel Mindfreak levels of shit or redefining the capital H in Houdini, but I knew how to do basic sleight of hand with small objects, which I used for party tricks and other such parlor tomfoolery.

But I realized I wasn’t using my newfound power to its full extent, so I got an idea one day. I arrived early to the chess clubroom and pocketed a few extra pieces from the other chessboards (which didn’t matter, the club never had enough members to actually use all of the chessboards at any one time), then I challenged the club prez to a game. Now, this guy already didn’t like me too much, dude was kind of a cunt and held a grudge against me because my cousin ended up with one of his crushes and then I ended up with his next crush, so he had bloodline beef with us. So he accepts to the match and we set up the board.

Now, this guy was pretty good at chess, objectively better than myself, but I wasn’t here to win, not at the game, at least. We start playing, it starts pretty even as we develop our units, he castles better and faster than I, and then starts putting pressure on me. It’s at this point, the midgame, where my Belmont to his Dracula would shine in full force: Whenever he looked away (to answer someone’s question about where to find something or about some chess rule), I would put One (1) pawn down from my sleeve. 

Initially he didn’t notice, but he did look twice at some placements. But as time went on, he started to visibly grow frustrated and confused, until it became so fucking ridiculous and obvious that he called a pause and counted a total of 14 black pawns on the board (you only have 8 pawns, for reference), at which point I couldn’t hold my laughter anymore. He starts insulting me, I look behind him, to the door, and pretend I’m addressing a teacher that had just come into the room, he turns around, sees no one had actually entered the room, and when he looks back at me and the board, there was suddenly a second black queen next to his king and I just fucking lose it when he makes one of the faces of all time and starts saying colorful things about mine mother.

Anyways I got banned from Chess club after that but it was worth it.

this story is literally this meme

I know, I know, gatekeeping the outdoors, that's supposedly bad, right, but I think if you show up to do a hike and you brought a portable speaker with you to play music while you hike, I think, like hear me out, there should be a gate, and someone at the gate should keep you from doing the hike.

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playing music in public should get strong social disapproval

Recorded music, anyway. Live music is different rules. If you want to lug an entire cello up a mountain you can do whatever the hell you want.

Carrying a speaker on a hike to make everyone listen to your bullshit, and simply sitting under a tree and playing a fiddle in the woods, are two activities so different they may as well not exist in the same world.

I think the critical difference is that the bringing of recorded music with you ties the space to Elsewhere, whereas the creation of live music with an instrument you brought both binds you to the space, and drags everyone who hears you play into it as well.

I think you're right.

Yeah I'll accept this into my belief system.

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INDIANAPOLIS—Announcing that landmark new laboratory methods had made the once dreamed-of medication a reality, pharmaceutical company Eli Lilly unveiled insulin Wednesday that doesn’t work on poor people. “Thanks to our proprietary advancements in cellular technology, the active ingredients in insulin will now only work if the patient makes at least six figures per year,” said Eli Lilly CEO David Ricks, describing how the firm’s pharmacologists had engineered the amino sequence in the insulin molecule to detect whether or not the person taking it had rich blood.