Totseans

Author: RemadE

  • The most crazy 24 hours of my life

    This event was not documented in any way. The entire thing was absent of me having my mobile phone and a way of documenting what happened on me. You’ll see why.

    My Father has a friend from Holland who deals in contraband. It’s a hard business, but I was told of this weekend a few days before. Literally a phonecall from an unknown number

    “Hey [RemadE], fancy making some money this weekend?” and I instantly knew the voice.
    “Of course”
    “Good. Be at mine for 4pm, bring overnight stuff”

    And that was it. I got the bus back and headed straight to my mates house. I had packed my meds, a change of clothes, a coat, pillow and some reading material. Just in case I had a spare few minutes.

    We set off at 4:30 to Gatwick and got on a plane to Amsterdam. In short he only needed me to help him bring back some contraband as there were 2 of us, so that’s twice as much. Simple enough – but the journey was the hilight.

    After reading and getting off the plane we were greeted by some friends in suits. I never got their names. Most of the people I still don’t recall their names, but that’s the beauty of it all.
    Throwing my bag carefully into the boot of the Mercedes CL500 we got heading to a house where the goods were kept. It was still daylight and I was still pretty whacked out from flying, then just being whisked off my feet.

    4 of us in this car, we eventually got to this small house outside Amsterdam.
    “I’m not allowed back in the City, you see” he told me.
    “I remember you saying why” I replied. This guy was not to be fucked with. Amsterdam is a hotbed of mafia-style groups and his tattoos showed his dues.

    The car pulled up on the drive and we went in. All we came here was to pick up some gear and go back. But that wasn’t happening anytime soon.
    “I’m a regular customer of the travel companies. They don’t care if I miss a boat or plane. I just pay them an extra €10 and I’m on the next day. Relax.”

    I put my bag down and the room was a traditional, mahogany coloured place. Being in Holland there were drugs around and businessmen all reclined around tables. I didn’t know if this was for leisure or business. But fuck it, I followed my mates lead and had some attention from some females. Outside was a hot tub and a few girls hitting a bong. If anything I felt like Robert Deniro in “Jackie Brown”. These guys were loaded, dangerous and there I was, just a +1 and about to get into the swing of things.

    I was told we are leaving at 4am to get the ferry back
    “Customs aren’t as half as bad there”

    I now had 5 hours to enjoy myself. It was a haze of chatting shit, watching cocaine get snorted off glass tables, boobs, veuve cliquot and money being counted. The whole thing could have been pulled straight from a fucking movie. Needless to say I dabbled, but had to keep straight for our journey back.

    As 4am inched nearer I eyed my mate up who was catching up with some friends. I said goodbye to the girls and shook the hands of the men I met and we left the house to return to another car. Not quite a Mercedes, as it was a Citroen, loading it up with the contraband we were bringing back.
    As I was getting into the car

    “Stop”
    “What’s wrong?”
    “Come here” my friend commanded.
    “O-k”

    He patted down my pockets and looked at my nose. Checking me over for drugs seemed pretty sensible. Completely pissed through my mind, so glad to see he was still on the ball.
    “Being caught with this stuff is bad enough, but being caught with what they had in there is even worse. You Brits are too serious about life”

    “Ok let’s go”

    That night saw us drive through Belgium and into Northern France, passing his house where I stayed a few years before, and pulling into the Nord Pas De Calais Ferry Port. Patiently waiting.
    Waiting.
    And driving back onto the boat.

    It wasn’t even the rush of customs that got me about this story. it was the crazy European experience I had over the course of 24 hours, and I am now back in my University room wondering what the hell just happened.

    A weekend I will never forget.

  • That’s life!

    I just got in from the cold. My body clock is whacked out and so I sleep for most of the day, get work done at night. However the silence gets to me.
    Texting old &ToTSE members, I went outside for a smoke and listened to “That’s Life” by Frank Sinatra, realising the people that have gone from my life, through their own choice or mine.

    Anyway, coming back in I saw that the new episode of the Walking Dead was almost downloaded (S02E07) and so I thought I’d get some work done while the last 5% downloads. This University stuff is never-ending.

    I apologise for my lack of activity on &T, as I have been preoccupied and ill as hell. Going to the loo 5ft from my bed) is enough challenge as getting out of bed is agony, so getting to my laptop is another challenge. Shit ain’t cool.

    Also this past week I’ve found that selling pharmaceutical drugs can be very profitable. Meeting people at lectures when I have the energy to go. More spending money for my Holiday in December with an old &T member. I’ll work hard on getting better and will have to show you the photos. Aww yeah.

    In other news, I’ve found out I’m vaguely related to the Actress Lauren Cohan than I realised.

    Life is mad at the moment, but don’t worry – I still watch over my beloved Community. Just taking things easy at the moment

  • The Falklands. A not so long time ago, in an Ocean far, far away.

    A chilly walk into Town saw me pass numerous newspaper stands and most of the headlines were either about Islamic Preachers being let “loose” in the UK or the state of the Falkland Islands. The weather is bitterly cold, and so are those desolate lumps of rock in the South Atlantic, so it got me thinking. Combine this with a discussion yesterday in my History lecture about the “usefulness” of keeping them as part of British Territory, I wasn’t alive when the conflict happened, but it’s engrained as part of British consciousness. So here is my two pence as an English Citizen. There is no clear conclusion, but the fuss being kicked up over them is overwhelming, especially from the Argentine side which I also have personal interests in – so time to get typing.

    The Falkland Islands were originally settled by a plethora of Nations, not limited to Spanish, Dutch, Argentine and finally us Brits. We recolonised and took them over in 1833 when we still had a Worldwide Empire. I unduly apologise to any Pakistani readers here, as I know the annoyance, distress and historical control us Brits have wrought on the Asian Continent as a trading route, so you’ll have to bear with me on this one. If any older readers will remember, our Iron Lady, Maggie Thatcher sent our Troops halfway round the world to fight the Argentine invading forces in April 1982. it was controversial, not least with the sinking of the Belgrano, but I’m not going to dwell on it. I don’t know enough to form a coherent article – all I do know is that my friend who’s Father was a Commander in the Navy then, was unable to leave ship as his surname is Thatcher and was therefore a high-value target.

    Recently, oil has been a factor in the Falkland Islands, as drilling is beginning and is reported in the News. Obviously it’s muted now, but the recent activity is what’s got me thinking. Back in 1982, Britain was under a Conservative Government and we are now (the Liberal Democrats aren’t even an effective force – we are a Conservative-led Nation. No doubt about it) and we are beginning to get tensions over what is essentially a 4,700sq mile set of islands which are bafflingly as far away from Britain as you can get, yet are as British as London. Defining Britain, however, is an entirely different matter for another day.
    So the recent tensions are over the true ownership of the Islands. Who does own them? Well us Brits have been there since the 19th Century, but they are in darn close proximity to Argentina. The upkeep of the Islands has been reported as quite expensive, but no official figures have been released. There are British Armed Forces bases there and the Islanders rely on imports from Chile and other South American Nations as it is so inhospitable. They’re between the Southern tip of South America and Antarctica for fucks sake.
    So as I was saying, the recent tensions are a talking point. Argentina is going to the United Nations (which are practically an attack dog with no teeth) about reclaiming the Islands, but what about the now 4,000-odd population of British people living there, the Military installations and potential oil? If we can successfully get oil from the shores of these islands, then our costly upkeep will be repaid and chances are, with the money, we can buy our way to keeping the Islands as British. I do find it strange just how patriotic the Islanders are, being so far away. I’m not a Patriot myself – I believe more in personal freedoms as opposed to State-given ones but that’s my view.

    Going back to my point of Coonservative Governments as well, it seems strange that David Cameron (who some call Margaret Thatcher’s Son) has sent over a Type-45 Destroyer ship (the best in its class) as well as Prince William starting a 6 week tour of duty there (he won’t be doing much work, but Prince Andrew was involved directly in the conflict). To the Argentines, this is seen as provocation, and they have the cheek to say that Prince William “wears the uniform of the conqueror”, harking back to my point of the days of British Imperialism. It’s not a case of reconquering and enslaving as we used to do, rather holing onto a piece of territory that has been part of Britain within everyone’s lifetime. Even to someone like myself who was born in 1990, it’s British – no matter how strange a concept it is. If anything it reminds me of Ireland. A divided place with many differences and ideals of self-determination, but in such close proximity to another State (England, or the United Kingdom if you’d prefer). I like to call it the “Dis-United Kingdom” seeing as Scotland are calling for independence, Welsh people always rip on the English and Norhtern ireland is just a political minefield. But hey.

    So where from here? Well I suppose we will have to wait for the UN to make a decision which could take a while, and see what the effects of Prince William and the “provocative” acts of us Brits are on the Argentinians. I have Argentine friends and although the place is rather savage with one of my friends surviving a 9mm to the head last May, it is a rich nation who profited from the fleeing Nazis post-1945. German interests are high there even now which is where most of Merkel’s money comes from (who controls most of the European Union) and almost every car in Argentina is a German-made one. So it’s not as though they are an impoverished Nation as a whole.

    I just say we hold a referendum, the Islanders will no doubt want to stay British, mainland Brits will be divided as the younger Generation won’t have a clue, but as long as we can keep the oil, then we’re onto a winner.

  • An observation – How Society reflects the Internet drama over 3 years.

    Over the three years at my University, I have seen a shift in attitudes that can be attributed to the downfall of the Internet with this new SOPA/PIPA/ACTA laws. it’s odd but Society reflects it well, so here goes.

    My first year saw very Politically active groups. Protests were frequent and they had a purpose. Some more blurred than others, but there was at least a force to be reckoned with. I was involved but soon withdrew as splits emerged in how we would go around achieving our objectives. Both in real life and online. I kept ToTSE secret for the most part as it was my little “Fight Club” where I’d go to vent. With the General Elections and the voting in of David Cameron and Nick Clegg as a Coalition, there was Political furor everywhere and people were pleading with me to vote Liberal Democrats.
    However, if a candidate does not suit me, then I won’t vote. Instead drawing a penis on the ballot paper. At this point I was aware of individuals like Ron Paul and my Libertarian upbringing was beginning to emerge. Students soon became complacent and things lost momentum. Facebook was popular, and as a Student, you tended to get your updates of events via these Social Networking sites. People were careful about what they shared and it seemed rather comfortable. Like an awkward family member than you can just about stomach.

    Second year passed almost the same. Much more blurred as the drugs were more frequent and I was in a relationship as well as working for the University. However people were less concerned or active in fighting for what they believed in. Hedonism was the “in” thing and I looked around to see people rightly so enjoying themselves, but if an issue arose, nobody would take any action. They tended to roll over and either accept it or ask somebody else to help them out.
    Needless to say, it was a busy year.

    Now I am almost at the end of my Third and final year. Self-affirmation and belief in Liberty have gone out the window. Technology has become totally integrated into peoples lives – Tweets, Facebook and other Social Networks where you can share all and everything are just another part of the Human body. Privacy means nothing and so when I met my TUtor last week who uses the TOR network I was relieved. It was like an island of sanity in an ocean of carelessness. The first person I met who knew about it in real life, and from an Academic standpoint, almost a saviour.
    As the days go by, not only for myself but for the SOPA/PIPA/ACTA legislation, I look around and see nobody taking any notice. Once again, they roll over and accept it as the inevitable future of the one last beacon of hope – the Internet.
    Although the Internet was built primarily (in my eyes) to share information, it now seems to be for sharing information and entrapment. The amount of personal details people are willing to put into the public domain genuinely puts chills down my spine. A few good examples are the phone number or Blackberry Messenger groups on Facebook which, if you like, can easily be searched via Google and shared within slightly more black to grey-hat circles.

    In a way I find it comforting that, although I’m not amazingly computer literate, but at least security-conscious, that I won’t accept this. The acts may, and probably will be passed, but I know I can rely on my knowledge to help cover my arse when most others will fall foul of them. Even for the most simple of violations.
    Looking forward to a world of work, as we are now going through what the University has termed “Employability Week” things look grim as most Graduates expect to get a high-flying job after 3 years of being fed bullshit about how they will be the next future CEO or whatnot.
    You can’t get there without understanding the world, and although my upbringing was varied in the safety net sense of the word, my exposure to sites like ToTSE, and that includes all of the original .com domain users, has placed me in better stead. I can only hope we grow bigger and can spread the word of safety online, allowing people to preserve their liberty, because from my island, it seems the waters are rising.

    Of course, it’s not all doom and gloom. There is and always will be a way round the laws. Not every Nation will abide and so those who choose not to will profit hugely from Server rentals and traffic of what will soon be deemed “illegal” by the Acts being discussed, revised and passed by the powers that be.
    In the words of Macka B – who are the Terrorists, who are the Heroes? The Soviet Union was once depicted on a propaganda poster as being an octopus with tentacles in its Satellite States, which now seems to be the way the European Union and USA are going – but of course, it’s all under the guise of “freedom” and “Democracy”.
    You can polish a turd, but it’s still a turd.

    If you are reading this and got this far, I cannot urge you enough to join our Community and get learning. Failing to prepare is preparing to fail.

    Stay safe, Brothers.