Alright you smooth brain degenerates, here’s some shit I’ve learned along the way which probably wont help you but if it even remotely helps one of you, then I have achieved the goal of this post.
To quote that old guy: price is what you pay, value is what you get. But how do I value a company? I’ve seen it posted a bunch of times. Its more of an art than science, so let’s discuss this dark art.
It constantly boggles my mind at how many cunts dive into buying shares but do not even attempt at trying to think of a realistic valuation, backed up by some sort of financial measure. “What price should I exit at” is almost the equivalent of setting off on a road trip before you have decided on a destination. I accept this view could, and should, evolve over time so asking the question in itself is not unreasonable provided you have your own view. I know this is a casino and this shit is irrelevant for gambling but I’ll continue regardless.
One thing I also see a lot of which I’d like to debunk is the concept of a $5 share price being “cheaper” than a $6 one. Companies, at IPO or any time afterwards, can make their share price whatever they want. A market cap of $100m with 100m shares gives a SP of $1. If they issue less shares, the share price goes up, and the company’s equity value has not changed. Likewise when you do a stock split / consolidation you can adjust the per share price without changing the market cap. If this doesn’t make sense, get off this sub and do not invest in anything until you grasp this, seriously. The concept of “cheapness” comes from the amount of cashflows you expect to receive for a given price. As Wu-Tang told us; C.R.E.A.M. literally all we care about is cashflow, so keep that in mind when you’re thinking about future value as well.
Before I launch into valuation, there needs to be a high-level understanding of the difference between equity value (share price, market cap) and firm/enterprise value (market cap + net debt). You should also adjust firm value for minorities and associates, but let’s keep this as simple as possible. This is relevant when looking at ratios.
The other thing to understand is: valuation (and therefore share price) is a forward-looking beast. If you imagine the hypothetical situation where a company announces a record earnings year in conjunction with a plan to cease all operations, share price would obviously tank – no one gives two fucks that they had a record year if they are closing next year.
Let’s dive in. Broadly, there are two valuation methods: fundamental and relative.
Fundamental:
Few of ways to do this, but main one you’ll see finance cucks talk about is a DCF. This is all about calculating the NPV of future expected cashflows. People shy away from these because they think they are hard. DCFs aren’t complicated, but there are a shitload of subjective assumptions that go into them which, unless you’re prepared to think at a highly granular level about, these aren’t worth the paper they are written on. IRR is just the discount rate required to achieve a NPV of 0.
There’s other ways like dividend discount models but they require stable AF dividends to work.
Relative:
This is referring to multiples like P/E, EV/EBITDA, PEG, EV/FCF, P/sales etc etc. These are quick and dirty and will give an answer in seconds. They’re only truly useful when comparing similar companies. i.e “is afterpay good value compared to zip?”. Rarely will using one in isolation give you an accurate or useful view of a company.
Again, no one gives a flying fuck about what historical multiples are. So, the slightly nuanced thing here is ideally you need a forward-looking number. Historical numbers usually do provide the best guide/context available for future numbers, so we can’t say they are completely irrelevant, but always have your eyes on the road ahead, not in the rear vision.
Examining the P/E multiple, I touched on why historical ‘E’ could be irrelevant for major changes in operations (acquisitions, divestments etc.), but as the capital structure changes this can also impact ‘E’, so you would also need to adjust for any permanent changes in that regard. Point is, be wary of the traps in historical numbers, they’re the easiest to find but not always the most useful.
Generally speaking, people aim to use a denominator as low down on the income statement as possible, as its closest to what you receive as a shareholder. EBIT and EBITDA are sometimes used as a proxy for cash. Equity markets most commonly look to NPAT (P/E), however if its loss making you might need to go to EV/EBITDA, if its capital intensive you should look at EV/EBIT. Note that you use EV as the numerator for EBIT and EBITDA for capital structure neutrality. If it’s a meme stock with no EBITDA then maybe you are looking at a sales multiple, if no sales, well, you have to have a compelling thesis as to what you are buying if they can’t sell their products to anyone else. Some are industry specific (e.g you can’t use EV/EBITDA on a bank, and you wouldn’t value BHP on a P/sales or you’ll look like an idiot pretty quickly).
The higher the multiple, the more growth the company has to deliver on to justify the price. If two identical companies had different multiples, you could (sort of) fairly say that the higher one was “more expensive”. Given multiples change depending on growth (i.e in a company with positive growth, multiples decline the further you look into the future), it’s easy to then understand that these must be time sensitive. If you are comparing a multiple in 12 months time, it should only be compared with other multiples in with the same time frame.
Sometimes, if you can’t be fucked doing a heap of work it can be useful to reverse the question and ask, “what do I actually need to believe for a valuation of $x to be true?”.
Doubt anyone is reading by now so I’ll stop there. If there’s any interest in diving further into these concepts, shout out and I will gladly help. If all the fundamental shit gets you excited there’s a bunch of better resource out there, don’t trust reddit and go read Damoderan or something. This is a very brief intro, so before someone comments “you forgot to include bullshit method xyz that my great grandad used when he was doing a leveraged buyout of Dildos Anonymous Pty Ltd in 1969”, I’ll get in first and highlight it is not even close to being exhaustive.
Peace out and stay retarded. Here’s a rocket 🚀
TLDR; boring valuation shit discussed above. Not relevant to gambling.

A skeptic’s post: Can WSB win the GME standoff even if we want to?

guilt, anger, empathy

I'm so fucking mixed up right now. My dad is so deeply invested in Trump and QAnon that he has completely fucked everything his father worked for til the day he died. Forced his mother, my complete saint of a grandmother, to sell their house and income property in one of the most desirable cities to live in and move out to BFE Oklahoma. She and my Uncle, his brother, both have heart conditions and now 0 infrastructure to manage them. My germaphobe Uncle is being forced to attend medical visits where he is regularly in contact with unmasked people. They feel unsafe and disconnected where they live, though they love the new house itself. I got the you-told-us-so call a few days ago, and I feel more upset than before. I managed to get my grandmother to stop actively propagating Q material on facebook, and my impression is that she just doesn't know what to believe at this point and is trying to avoid politics. I can understand that, at least. She is an extremely kind woman who was taken in on the child-trafficking claims and nothing else, it wasn't too hard to talk to her.
My dad is so fucking sick now. He's in recovery and has now taken up gambling for fun, and has been going to the casinos and coming home (endangering the remainder of the at-risk household) since they reopened. He openly brags about being at bars, smoking and singing maskless. He voted for Trump in 2016 because he hated Hillary and the libertarian candidate wasn't going to win (or so he told me). Now he's so far gone he can do nothing but post on Twitter about HCQ and how he refuses to bend to "covid fascist edicts" and won't allow himself to be "reprogrammed" by the government. He railroaded my whole family into tearing up their roots and starting anew in a brand new place and now he isn't even unpacking because he plans to move to Texas with his girlfriend. My Uncle gave up the business he built for over a decade, and the relationship he'd been in for nearly as long. All of my grandma's comfort and independence have been stripped away. I kept begging them not to do it, I kept telling them it wasn't safe, but they were constantly being manipulated with my dad in the house and everyone screaming about the stupid governor trying to destroy everyone's livelihoods with shutdowns. So many people are dead, and all he could be assed to think about was his own freedom. I begged and begged, but my grandma just won't think of herself or her wellbeing. They used her for her money so that they could afford to move, and they are already priced out of the market they just left. My childhood home, lemon trees, rose vines, ugly old tile and all is being rented out to randoms now. The thought of picking up and moving again sounds horrific but less horrific than the consequences of staying where they are and in a home with him.
I found out the day after the Capitol riot that he had traveled all the way to DC to take part when a friend I had at my last job sent me a news article with his extremely unique name in it. There he was, in front of God and everybody, disgracing the family name and making us look like a bunch of hateful lunatics. I wonder if I'll ever be able to get a job again. I was planning on changing my name when I get married, I might have to do it sooner. That day I discovered the extent of his issues (3200 tweets in 3 months) and how awful the things he was saying had become. When I found out he was one of the people joining 'militias" to "keep the peace" during the George Floyd protests, I knew he was gone. I didn't understand how deeply he had bitten into the conspiracies until now. Being someone who has frequented 4chan from much too young an age, it was so hard to fucking explain to these people that the things they were sharing (literal photos of computer screens showing 4chan posts!!! I'm not even making this shit up) came from a place with complete anonymity and less vetting for posts than any of their social media platforms, let alone wikipedia. An actual forum full of gore, porn, and memes. I could not get through to them, but now even my Uncle who voted for Trump thinks he has gone too far.
This week has been a fucking mess for me. This is the man I used to call my hero. He used to be an avid musician, a gentle hand on my shoulder when I was wound up and tense, a patriot in the military who served and strove to better himself. There were several times in my life when it was us, and just us. I have been neglected or abused by most of my family, including him. My conflicted feelings go back further than when he started to openly oppose women's rights, back before QAnon even existed. But he is a different person now. He is not the man who spent all the cash in his wallet to win me the biggest dog at the booth in the fair, nor the man who brought me a copy of our favorite book when I was hospitalized for making an attempt on my life, nor the man who took me to see snow, stars, and the countryside in thousand-mile-trips cross country. He's gone. I am crying here with the letter he slipped me when I was in the mental hospital with instructions to read it when I was hurting. Here it is, the final sentence, a quote older than both of us.
"You have been, and always shall be, my best friend."
I reported him to the FBI the day before the inauguration. You won't see me on the news being called a hero, I am here in my home unable to sleep or eat, existing in obscurity. I have no parents anymore, though my chosen family is wiser than me to say I never really did. When I found out he had not returned home after the riot, and had a weapon with him, the choice was made for me. None of the adults in my family have the strength to even stand up to him, they certainly aren't going to grow up now.
I don't know where he is, or what's going to happen. I don't think he can go back to being that person, he is as invested in avoiding admitting he is wrong as he is in getting his way. His actions are those of a bitter man who feels wronged by the world and is trying to extract what he can for himself from society. It saddens me to say that I am not his only child, which makes that outlook even more disturbing. I started treatment for PTSD a couple months ago, and I am barely functioning. Today, I had to email my landlord and go to the post office. I have already broken down three times, and drank until I could pass out for a few hours this afternoon. The nightmares are intense. The shaking is intense. I keep remembering things he did and said, good and bad. I wish I knew how to get through to him. He calls me a fucking libtard. The last safe space I had is gone because of him. He just doesn't care, about his kids, his mother, nothing. My grandfather is rotting in a grave miles from the product of his life's achievements, and the family is slowly going broke now. I stopped thinking of him as family years ago, but going through this with his mother is really difficult.
I am sorry for being all over the place. I feel like I'm barely surviving right now, for a combination of reasons that reach far beyond my parents.

What things turn a game into a world?

TL;DR
I created a laundry list of high-level tenets that drive the game design of specific genre I coined the World game based on Brad's famous quote. These aim to be applicable to any game that would scratch my old school MMO itch.
What tenets would you choose?
Preamble
The MMO community is, to some degree, divided by the different expectations and desires of its player base. Even an MMORPG can mean so many things to so many different people. I wanted to get to the root of what a good MMO is to me, and in the process, I found that the ambiguous label of MMO is likely getting in the way.
Passionate players across the board seem to complain about the same issues. Ease of difficulty. Cash shops. Single-player focus. Theme park design. Players of these games either leave the genre, ultimately disenchanted with the thin veil over Skinner box design, or they continue to search for something better, because they know it is possible. Maybe this is intentional. Developers piggy back on the MMO genre to hook the player-base before extracting as much as they can from the whales in their glorified casino.
So, here, I present the tenets of a specific game genre: the World genre. The focus on world over game is not a new idea. Brad McQuad famously said, “I want to make worlds, not games.” That focus can be seen right there in the name of Visionary Realms. And without the right language to describe what we are after, the community is continually bit by games that fit the abstract label but disappoint in the details.
The goal with these tenets isn’t to create a template so much as it is to create rough guidelines. In fact, these guidelines probably wouldn’t do a game designer much good in creating a solid design. But they should help in evaluating different options and validating an existing design. Certainly, none of the tenets get as specific as the theme or even the existence of combat. They should apply equally well to a game set in feudal Japan, The Sims Online, or the next zombie apocalypse.
Some tenets are broad, while others more specific. Some tenets are rigid, others more malleable. Some tenets are critical pillars of the genre, while others are less important. Tenets frequently conflict, creating tension.
A note on intuition
The tenets below are driven by the principle that they should be intuitive. The World genre is trying to capture something deeply human, buried in our brains because of the way we have interacted with ourselves, each other, society, and our planet over millennia of evolution. There is no right or wrong answer. When in doubt, we err on the side of realism.
A note on ownership
Establishing reasonably prescriptive tenets on the World and gameplay highlights the necessity of strong ownership and vision for this style of game. This is particularly true given that many of these tenets go explicitly against what makes a great game in general. For example, how many games would actually benefit from less player matchmaking? This also does not lend itself well to player-generated content, where those tenets can be easily violated.
The tenets of immersion
TENET 1 The player should be directly represented in the World
The World genre requires the player to form a direct relationship with the World, not with the character. This is a key difference between Eastern of Western RPGs (both of which I love) and so this may be controversial. The player should be able to insert themselves into their avatar. On the flip-side, it precludes certain mechanics, such as squad-based designs.
TENET 2 The World should be realistic in both form and function
That is, the World should minimize the need for suspension of disbelief. It should pull the player in naturally. I have always felt conflicted by WoW’s appearance. I absolutely loved the cell-shaded look of Wind Waker, but instinctually disliked the cartoon-like nature of WoW. This goes back to immersion. That doesn't mean the visuals have to be photorealistic. They just have to pull you in. It may be possible to get around this through the setting. For example, if the setting is a digital afterlife, you may be able to get away with a more abstract appearance.
TENET 3 The player and World should interface only through the player character
The player should only be able to influence the World through their character. And the World should only be able to influence the player through the character. This means, respectively, no cash shops and a first-person camera. It also means no GPS — unless, of course, the setting supports it. Taken to an extreme, this precludes voice chat, at least without something like racial voice filters.
TENET 4 The player should directly engage with the World around them
The key here is “direct”. No minimaps, no waypoints, no fast travel. Of course, these are not absolute deal-breakers. The key is that the player is able to establish a connection with the World around them. The player should, over the course of the game, develop a strong mental model of the World and its relation to their character.
The tenets of freedom
TENET 5 The player should not be assigned a story
The World itself can (and should!) have a story to tell. But the player character’s story should be their own. The player must have the freedom to make their own place within the World, eschewing the rails that a story provides. Side quests are lesser evils, but still evils. The more choice the better.
TENET 6 The player should be able to pursue multiple forms of progression
The choice should not just be in how to progress. It should be in which ways to progress. The most obvious example is crafting, but this can also include loot, skills, the economy, faction, or even — maybe most importantly — growing in strategy and skill.
TENET 7 The World should be demanding, but not prescriptive
This is an extension of the idea of a lack of story. If the game is too prescriptive, it becomes a job. A chore. To combat this phenomenon, the player needs significant choice at all times. This may, in fact, be the primary draw of the World genre: to provide an environment where players are purely driven by their own will. It is equally important to avoid visibly and overtly influencing the player’s decisions. The player’s incentives and motivating factors should be an organic part of the World. No daily XP boosts, for example. Alternate forms of progression can help here, because even once a player is motivated to progress, they have the choice of which dimension of progress to pursue.
TENET 8 The World should encourage downtime
The player should not feel compelled to move forward at all times. There should be joy simply in existing in the World, experience it moment to moment. Even better, progression itself can require downtime; this is related to the notion that players should be encouraged to play any game in the most fun way possible. This can be accomplished with world design, such as guard-protected cities or social taverns, or mechanics, such as fishing, firework shows, and waiting in queue for a boat. This is effectively the white space of gameplay. And it is all but lost in modern MMOs.
TENET 9 The World should be dangerous
Choice is meaningless without consequence. With real, negative consequence, comes danger. This not only gives weight to the player’s decisions, but also helps to establish the intricate give-and-take relationship between the World and the player. Looking at you, death penalty. If a World game is about finding your place within that world, then danger and risk makes this a meaningful pursuit. If that tension between risk and reward does not exist, even at the start of the journey, it undermines those goals. Note that this is different than challenge — and challenge itself is not enough.
TENET 10 Players should be encouraged to explore the World
This doesn't mean that players are constantly seeking some never-before-seen point of interest, but it does mean that players get out and move. In other words, the world provides resources across its footprint, and you must seek those out. Most forms of progression should require you to get out and explore. This also does not necessitate baubles scattered around the landscape to find.
The tenets of impact
TENET 11 The player’s actions should be worn like a badge
You should be a product of your choices. Your reputation, gear, and skills should tell a story about where you have been and what you have accomplished. Your spoken languages can tell a story of what cities you have spent the most time in. As you spend time in different climates, you may develop a natural acclimation to those environments. Imagine you walk into town and one of the NPC gnomes recognizes the scent of the nearby crystal caverns you have been exploring. This is interesting because it relates to life; the player’s accomplishments should come with artifacts. This also means that auction houses should be limited, as they create an artificial divide between adventure and outcome.
TENET 12 Players should have something unique to offer
The ways that a player can help others in their progression should be relatively unique to that player. As much as possible, they should tell a story about adventures undertaken; e.g., a proc from an item dropped by a famous mob. Of course, classes and class-specific skills are one way to accomplish this, but the more ways the better. For example, if one form of progression is fishing, then fish should be useful to others in many ways. A cooking skill is obvious. More creatively, certain kinds of fish could be used as powerful but low-level weapons. A butcher could extract gills or eyes to, in turn, be used as reagents for spells.
TENET 13 There should be no end game
Even the name “end game” is problematic for several reasons. It suggests a hard limit to progression. It suggests a hard divide in the way the World is experienced once the player reaches this limit. It also suggests that the focus is no longer on the World, but on the game — which is to say, the core promise of the genre is lost. This doesn’t mean to eliminate raids or AA points. It just means that those things should be included in the game proper. This tenet also implies that progression should be relatively limitless. Skyrim is an interesting example of this. One way to accomplish this is to create exponential progress; for example, having each level take 10% more experience than the last. Granted, this is a much harder problem than the simple discussion here suggests.
TENET 14 The player should leave a mark on the World itself
Can a World be meaningful if there is no way to make an impact on it? Of course, their character is one such mark. It is easy to imagine statues erected in town, or NPCs chatting about the first character to hit max level. But there should be a means for all characters to leave some lasting impact. Given that players can already say whatever they want in chat, breaking immersion, a simple example is the ability to leave a journal. These could even be curated. Other possibilities include geocaching, naming items, plaques that can be erected in various places throughout the world. Player-owned housing is perhaps the most obvious.
TENET 15 Power, fame, and fortune must be possible
A world game should be able to provide all three of these drivers. As with reality, these should not be the only reason to play. Fame is largely supported by communication; fortune by economy and loot. Power can be found even outside the game, in the player’s mind, as they grow in skill and strategy.
TENET 16 The player should have a home
Can you have a world without a home? Some place in the world should feel like your own. Where even the NPCs tend to be supportive of you: merchants give discounts and trainers more assistance. This could simply be your birthplace, your hometown.
The tenets of socialization
TENET 17 There must be no explicit matchmaking
Players must find each other. In fact, a World game should ideally employ the opposite of matchmaking: some players should have barriers preventing that connection. This makes it all the more meaningful when these seemingly unlikely relationships form. There are many ways to accomplish this, including separating players by distance or climate or language. Allowing certain players to engage in PvP is another.
TENET 18 There should be risk in trusting others
Trust can only exist when that trust can be violated. Otherwise there is no trust — just a cold, lack of consequence. By allowing negative consequences through socialization, we enable trust, and so enable more meaningful relationships. For example, a player might grief the group, log out at the wrong time, or simply lack the skill to effectively play their character. They might steal your loot.
TENET 19 Players must be able to communicate with language
The purpose of having a World is to allow the player to tell their own story within it. And what story is worth telling that doesn’t involve real connection with others? Connection with others requires communication. And not just any form of communication, but with language. This communication should extend throughout the game, as much as possible. That is, it should be limited to the tavern, but should naturally extend out to the dungeon as well.
TENET 20 Players should be able to help each other organically
Those that have the means to help should find themselves naturally in proximity to those that might need it. For example, have high-level dungeon entrances in low-level areas. Have new characters start out near big cities.
TENET 21 Cooperation should generally benefit progression
For example, a blacksmith could gather all of her own materials or rely on other players. In some cases, a blacksmith might actually require an enchanter to lend a hand in creating the best equipment. This is not a difficult tenet to design towards; it is more a warning against designing forms of progression that specifically do not lend themselves to cooperation. In many MMOs, solo combat is so fast-paced and rewarding that there is little incentive to try to find a group.
The tenets of the World itself
TENET 22 The World should be persistent
Things can change, but not so frequently that it harms the connection the player has with the World. This is one reason why Minecraft may not work as a World game, and perhaps one reason why the focus on player-generated content in EverQuest Next did not lend itself well to a fun experience.
TENET 23 The World should be shared
There should be no instancing. If you need to come up with elaborate lore and mechanics to facilitate this, then so be it. For example, say all of the top tier raid bosses are spirits that can only be summoned by rare relics. And the spirits can only be hurt by those that share a clan sash with the one who summoned them. Obviously this is terribly contrived. But it demonstrates that it is possible to work backwards from the need of a shared world.
TENET 24 The World should be big
You should move slowly compared to the size of the world. It should always feel as though there is somewhere new to explore.
TENET 25 The World should be open
Big by itself is not enough. Theoretically, you could create a massive, linear world — imagine Ant Hill: The MMO. But that is not sufficient for a World game. Exploration is critical, and so the specific layout of the space is important. For another example, imagine Destiny but with hundreds of expansions. The game would be large by any standard, but it would not be a World.
TENET 26 The World should be alive
To some degree, the World should be the main character. Day and night cycles are a simple start. Other possibilities include transient events or even changes to the landscape over time. The World should be full of surprises, unpredictable. You should come across enemies not normally found in the local climate. You should discover loot normally reserved for much tougher mobs. Emergent gameplay can help here as well. The more mechanics and attributes that can be projected naturally to some underlying physics, the greater the chance for interesting and unique interactions. In the same breath, the World should have history. The best example of this is Hollow Knight, a game that tells the history of the World through visual storytelling, environments, enemy design, dialog, secrets, and journals.
TENET 27 The World should be consistent
The World should carry an underlying consistency through it. The World should feel congruent. Variety, also important, must be tempered.
TENET 28 The World should be varied
Different places within the World should have an identity of their own, through climate or culture or environment. Different environments should encourage different play styles and behavior, even downtime.
TENET 29 The World should have landmarks
The World should be defined by the interesting places within it. More than that, the World should have locations that pull players together. Breath of the Wild does an amazing job with this, whereas it is one of the weaknesses of The Witcher III. In EverQuest, the camps themselves often serve this role — think Treants — showing how landmarks can emerge from gameplay rather than, say, visual interest.

Women's group warns of major sex trafficking if casino plan goes through

Stokes's Bristol Nightclub incident in detail (From: The Comeback Summer by Geoff Lemon)

IF YOU’RE LOOKING for a place where misadventure could begin, you can’t go past Mbargo. The nightclub’s streetfront is painted a purple so bright you’ll see it in your dreams. Strings of giant sequins shimmer in the breeze. Its phonically inventive name is spelt in silver letters that climb its three-storey terrace facade. Inside are strips of burning neon, a few booths, floorboards so marinated in drink that they have an ingredients list. Bristol is a student city on England’s south coast crowded with music and nightlife and street art. This is Banksy’s home town, and the tourism board suggests in rather strong terms that ‘you would be a fool not to see his amazing work firsthand’. The same organisation describes Mbargo as ‘intimate’, which is fair for a place where you can catch an STI standing up. Students cram into its modest dimensions while people with names like DJ Klaud battle for billing with £1.50 drink deals over seven sloppy nights a week. To get a sense of the story about to come, consider that it’s the kind of place open until two o’clock on a Monday morning, and that at two o’clock on a Monday morning, Ben Stokes still thought it had closed too early.
The Ashes of 2017–18 had disciplinary bookends. It was after that series that Australia’s two leaders went off the rails in South Africa. It was a few weeks before that Ashes tour that England’s biggest star windmilled his way into his own disaster.
In the early hours of 25 September 2017, Stokes and teammate Alex Hales were barred from re-entering Mbargo after a night out on the piss. A Sunday thrashing of an abject West Indies in an ignored series at the fag-end of the season apparently required ample celebration. After arguing with the bouncer and hanging about at the door for a while, they wandered off to find a casino in the hope of more drinking. They’d barely made it around the corner before getting in the middle of a conflict between four locals. As is said on the internet, it escalated quickly.
The 26 September reporting was bloodless. Withholding names, police stated that a man ‘was arrested on suspicion of causing actual bodily harm’ while another went to hospital with facial injuries. England’s director of cricket Andrew Strauss separately confirmed that Stokes was the arrestee, adding that he had been released without charge and that Hales had gamely offered to ‘help police with their enquiries’. Administrators had a good chance of hiding behind that investigation, and the next day Stokes was named in the upcoming Ashes squad as expected. But that night the video emerged.
Bristol student Max Wilson had shot it on his phone, then offered it to The Sun. What he thought was playing hardball was actually lowball: his opening price of £3000 was snapped up by a tabloid that would have paid ten times that. The Sun went on to make a mint by syndicating the rights worldwide. From a window above the fray, the vision showed six men on the street below performing the muddled choreography of a melee. One was right at the centre of it. One was waving a bottle, one dipped in and out, one tried to calm it. Two others floated around the edges. The central figure was unmistakable: red hair burning even in the streetlight as he launched into a series of blows against two of the men, falling to grapple with them on the ground, then following both across the street, swinging punches the whole way. Hales trailed behind, repeatedly and impotently shouting ‘Stokes! Stop! Stokes! Enough!’ The ECB could fudge issues that existed only in thickets of legalese, but not those captured in moving colour. Stokes was stood down from the next West Indies match, then suspended indefinitely. It emerged that he had broken his hand during the fight, something he’d done twice before while punching objects in dressing rooms.
The response in Australia was fierce: Stokes was a thug, a lowlife, a selection that would disgrace England. It was not entirely coincidental that a ban for England’s best player would be handy for the Aussie team, but there was also a cultural split. In England, plenty of people still minimise pub fights as lads letting off steam. In Australia, heavy media coverage as a succession of young men were killed had inverted that tolerance. The discourse now saw any punch as potentially deadly and accordingly reckless. This was more poignant in a cricket context given that David Hookes, the dashing Test batsman and state coach, was killed in 2004 by a pub bouncer’s fist.
The PR situation was bad for Stokes as details emerged of the injuries to the men he’d hit, and that one was a young war veteran and father. Stokes wasn’t officially removed from the Ashes squad through October but stayed behind when his teammates left, hoping for police to dismiss the matter in time for a late dash to Australia. His annual contract was renewed on the due date in case that came to pass. Then 29 October brought a twist in the tale.
‘Ben Stokes praised by gay couple after defending them from homophobic thugs,’ ran the headline. Kai Barry and Billy O’Connell had emerged. Not entirely out of nowhere: while Stokes had made no public comment, this story in his defence had initially been leaked to TV host Piers Morgan after the fight, as soon as the video appeared. Police body-camera footage played in court would later show that Stokes had given the same story to the arresting officer on the night. But no-one knew the identities of the fifth and sixth men in the video, and police appeals had turned up nothing.
It was The Sun again with the breakthrough. Kai and Billy were perfect for a readership not keen on nuance. ‘We couldn’t believe it when we found out they were famous cricketers. I just thought Ben and Alex were quite hot, fit guys,’ said Kai, who was memorably described as a ‘former House of Fraser sales assistant’. The paper had the pair do a full photo shoot: layering the fake tan, showing off chest waxes, mixing Ralph Lauren and Louis Vuitton into a range of outfits. Their best shot had them standing back to back, heads turned to the camera, in a mirror-image Zoolander moment.
Suddenly The Sun was the England team’s best friend. ‘Their claims could lead to the all-rounder being cleared over the punch-up and freed to play in the First Test in Australia next month,’ it gushed, then gave a tasting platter of quotes: ‘We were so grateful to Ben for stepping in to help. He was a real hero.’ ‘If Ben hadn’t intervened it could have been a lot worse for us.’ ‘We could’ve been in real trouble. Ben was a real gentleman.’ Would it be known forever as Kai and Billy’s Ashes? No. While the Bristol boys provided spin for Stokes’ reputation they didn’t influence the police. With charges still pending there was little choice – not given Strauss had previously sacked Kevin Pietersen for being annoying. Stokes remained suspended through the Ashes and a one-day series in Australia, and lost the vice-captaincy. It was January 2018 before the Crown Prosecution Service laid a charge.
That charge surprisingly came in as affray, a crime that can carry prison time but is classified as ‘a breach of the peace as a result of disorderly conduct’. The men he had punched, Ryan Ali and Ryan Hale, faced the same count, charged as equal participants in a fight rather than Stokes being charged with assaulting them. Alex Hales was not charged, despite being seen in the video to aim several kicks when Ryan Ali was lying on the ground. Given the underwhelming standing of the offence, Stokes was cleared by the ECB to tour New Zealand, and kept playing until his trial in August 2018, which he missed a Test to attend. None of the three defendants would be convicted.
The reasoning behind the charges was never released and was attributed vaguely to ‘CPS lawyers’. The service gave the case to Alison Morgan, a prosecutor of a class known as Treasury Counsel who usually handle serious criminal matters. Morgan had a scheduling clash and never ended up court for the case, but in 2018 and 2019 she would go on to win damages and admissions of libel from The Daily Mail, The Times and The Daily Telegraph variously for incorrectly reporting that she had been responsible for the inadequate and inconsistent charging decisions.
Morgan’s successor on the case was Nicholas Corsellis QC, who on the first day of trial was permitted by the CPS to request two assault charges be added against Stokes. ‘Upon further review,’ claimed a CPS statement, ‘we considered that additional assault charges would also be appropriate.’ This was patent nonsense from the service that eight months earlier had chosen the lesser charge. Any lawyer knows that no judge will allow new charges once a trial has begun, because the defence hasn’t had time to prepare. But such a request could deflect criticism of the prosecution service by technically making the judge the one who disallows the charge.
Working through the story from the trial and the tape is complicated. You had a Ryan and a Ryan, a Hale and a Hales, a Billy and a Barry and a Ben. You had several versions of events as to who knew whom, who was drinking with whom, who had insulted whom and who had merely engaged in ‘banter’, a word that in modern Britain has to do an unconscionable amount of lifting. The reporting had constantly mixed up the Ryans as to who had which injury, who was in hospital, who had played which part in the fight, and whose mum had which stern words to say about it.
Let’s agree that from now Ryan Ali is Ryan One, the firefighter who ended up with a fractured eye socket and a cracked tooth. Ryan Two can be Ryan Hale, the soldier who scored concussion and facial lacerations. Mr Barry and Mr O’Connell are best known per The Sun as Kai and Billy. In scorecard parlance we’ll leave the cricketers as Stokes and Hales.
Amid the confusion, Stokes and his lawyers built his case in a straightforward way. The UK legal definition of affray is ‘if a person threatens or uses unlawful violence or force towards another person, which causes another person of reasonable firmness present at the scene to fear for their safety’. That means it doesn’t account for violence that harms a target, but violence that might frighten a theoretical bystander. The wiggle room for Stokes was with ‘unlawful’, because the charge excuses violence in defending oneself or others.
This interpretation hinged on the beginning of the video, where Ryan One waves a beer bottle about and takes a swing at Kai. The version from Stokes was that he was minding his own business walking down the street when he heard homophobic abuse. He intervened verbally and was threatened verbally by Ryan One – something that Ryan One denied but that couldn’t be proved or disproved. In fear for his safety Stokes had to nullify that threat by bashing Ryan One before it went the other way. He registered Ryan Two in his peripheral vision as another possible threat, and again had only one recourse.
Stokes also had to convince the jury to disregard testimony from Mbargo’s bouncer that he had been looking for a fight. A solid lump of a man, Andrew Cunningham had not enjoyed his patron’s attempts to get back into the club after the bouncer declined an offer of a bribe. ‘He got a bit verbally abusive towards myself. He mentioned my gold teeth and he said I looked like a cunt and I replied, “Thank you very much.” He just looked at me and told me my tattoos were shit and to look at my job.’ Cunningham described these words as coming in ‘a spiteful tone, quite an angry tone’, and said that Stokes still seemed angry as he walked away.
These were details the doorman had nothing to gain by inventing, but each of them Stokes denied. By his own accounting he had drunk a beer at the game and three pints at his hotel, then ‘potentially had some Jägerbombs’ along with half a dozen vodkas at the club. He insisted that after all of this he was not drunk.
If I may take a moment here to call upon the wisdom of experience – a person who cannot definitively say whether they have had any Jägerbombs has definitely had some Jägerbombs. A Jägerbomb is an experience that does not pass one by. Further to that, a person who says they have ‘potentially’ done something has definitely done that thing and doesn’t want to admit it. A person who has had between 15 and 24 standard drinks in one evening is shitfaced. A person who tries to bribe a bouncer £300 – three hundred quid! – to get into Mbargo – Mbargo! – is beyond shitfaced.
If Stokes admitted that he was drunk then the prosecution could say he was out of control. He claimed clear recall of assessing a threat, feeling fear and deciding to protect himself with force. He confidently denied details from the bouncer’s testimony, like using the word ‘cunt’ or mentioning gold teeth. Yet on other details he claimed a ‘significant memory blackout’. He didn’t remember the punch that saw Ryan One taken away by ambulance. He didn’t remember what the Ryans had said to Kai and Billy, only that those words were homophobic. With no head injury, as one of the few people who hadn’t been hit, he had supposedly suffered this memory loss despite being sober.
The version from Kai and Billy was compatible but vague: they had been walking along, they ‘heard … shouts’ of abuse from an unspecified source, then Stokes ‘stepped in’ and thus they avoided possible harm. They claimed to have been bought a drink by Stokes at Mbargo, although CCTV showed them meeting outside. The overall implication from both accounts was that the cricketers had been pals with Kai and Billy, while the Ryans as per The Sun’s headline were a roving band of thugs.
The reality though is that the Ryans were the ones hanging out with Kai and Billy at Mbargo. Police discussed CCTV from inside the club in questioning and at trial. On that footage the four Bristolians bought drinks for one another, danced together, and Kai was noted to have variously touched Ryan Two’s crotch and Ryan One’s buttock. Ryan One told police that all of this was taken lightheartedly and wasn’t a problem. Indeed, when the Ryans called it a night the other two left with them.
This much is clear from footage out the front of Mbargo, which shows Kai and Billy exit the club and start talking with a subdued Hales and a demonstrative Stokes, who are stuck outside. The vision was played in court to determine whether Stokes was antagonistic towards Kai and Billy, as he appears to impersonate them and to throw a lit cigarette their way. More interesting is that after a few minutes the Ryans emerge, and all six actors in the fight video briefly form a prequel in the one frame.
Ryan Two pats Billy on the chest in friendly fashion with his right hand before clapping him on the back with his left. He moves past and does the same to Kai before leaving the shot. Ryan One stops to speak to Kai. They lean in for a moment, talking, then Kai turns and they walk out of frame together. Billy hangs around for a few seconds at the door and then looks after them and races to catch up. Stokes and Hales remain outside the club to remonstrate further with the bouncers. Whatever discord develops around the corner is between four men who left amicably together minutes earlier.
There’s no way to know what caused that friction. If Ryan One did use homophobic slurs, he might have been drunkenly obnoxious for no reason. He might have had an insecure macho response to some extra flirtation. He might have thought unkindness was funny – ‘banter’ once again. Or he might have said something that was misunderstood, as both Ryans insisted in court that they had not used nor had the impulse to use any abusive language.
What clearly didn’t happen was an attack by bigots on random passers-by. This kind of crime is regular enough that an audience understands the horror of it, and this is what was evoked by the public accounts of Stokes, Billy and Kai. All we know is that there was some verbal dispute among the Bristol locals, and that Stokes came along behind them and put himself in the middle of it. Ryan One responded to the interference aggressively and away they went. There are plenty of reasons to look sideways at the idea that Stokes was a saviour. Foremost, neither Kai nor Billy was called upon as witnesses in court. You’d think it would be ideal to have Stokes’ story backed up by those who benefited from his selflessness. But his defence team had developed the impression that the pair had shown a changeable recall of events amid a hard-partying lifestyle, and would be dismantled by the prosecution on the stand.
That raises the question of whether The Sun coached their quotes for the 2017 interview. Despite missing court, Kai and Billy clearly enjoyed the attention. In 2018 after the trial they did a follow-up spread in the same paper about how poor Ben had been mistreated. They got a television spot on Good Morning Britain and glowed about his heroism. In 2019 The Sun wheeled them out once more to say that Stokes should get a knighthood. In 2017 they had ‘never watched cricket’ but by 2019 were supposedly volunteering sentences like, ‘He saved us, now he’s saved the Ashes.’ Whether they were paid for these appearances is not known, but the chance to be famous for a day can be lure enough.
If you find this cynical, consider that on the night in question, the Bristol boys were so deeply moved and thankful for Ben’s intervention that they left him to be arrested and never attempted to find out who he was. Seconds after the video ended, an off-duty policeman reached the scene. You might think that someone grateful to a saviour would speak on his behalf. Instead, said Kai, ‘it all got a bit scary so we walked off. It was too much for me and we went to Quigley’s takeaway for chicken burgers and cheesy chips.’ They didn’t give their hero a thought for over a month while police issued multiple appeals for witnesses.
As for Stokes, he told his arresting officer that ‘his friends’ had been attacked. After three minutes of chat outside a nightclub, these friends were so dear to him that he has never contacted them again: not after the newspaper piece, not after the verdict. He didn’t want to see how they were or thank them for their support. He didn’t mention them by name in his solicitor’s statement after the trial.
The Stokes defence rested on Ryan One’s bottle, which he had carried out of Mbargo to finish a beer, not to use in a Sharks versus Jets amateur production. But once he turned it over to hold it by the neck it became a weapon. Intent and interpretation can change the material nature of things. Part of Stokes’ justification in court was that the bottle implied that the two Ryans might have ‘other weapons’ hidden away. You can understand how a jury could decide that created doubt.
Not being convicted, though, doesn’t give the contents of the video a big green tick. It does not, as his lawyer claimed, vindicate Stokes. Looking in detail, Ryan One is belligerent but his movements telegraph a bluff. Hales is the person he’s gesturing at, but they’re several metres apart when Ryan One cocks his arm ostentatiously, showing off the bottle rather than bracing to swing. He skips forward but Hales skips back and Ryan One doesn’t follow. Kai stretches out an arm to impede Ryan One, who has a drunken stumble, nearly eats pavement, then staggers towards Kai and hits him in the back. That hand is still holding the bottle, but his strike is a side-arm cuff on a soft part of the body. It’s all pretty tame.
This is where Stokes gets involved. Having moved across to protect Hales, he now takes three large steps to run around Kai and booms his first punch at Ryan One. They fall to the ground and the bottle clinks away. Stokes gets to his feet to punch down at the fallen man, while Hales arrives to kick him ineffectively then runs off across the street for some unknown reason. Ice-cream van? Stokes is soon back in the grapple having his shirt pulled up to show off his Durham tan. Ryan Two steps in for the first time to pull Stokes away, prompting a couple more random punches at this new target, then Stokes trips backwards over Ryan One and sprawls in the street. Hales chooses this moment to return and aim some solid kicks at the head of the man on the ground. Nothing so far is a triumph of moral philosophy or the pugilistic arts. But if it all stopped here, perhaps you could say it was somewhere approaching fair. Ryan One has behaved like a turnip and it’s not an entirely unjust world that would give him a whack across the chops. The antagonists have disentangled, Stokes has some distance, it’s time to dust off and go home. Ryan Two steps forward for this purpose with his palm raised in conciliatory style and says, ‘Settle down, stop.’
So Stokes punches him.
It’s roughly his fifth punch overall, and he really winds up into this one. He misses so hard that he stumbles away into the shadows of the shop awnings along the road.
Hales starts shouting for him to stop. Ryan Two backs into the street, still holding his palm up. Stokes closes on him from about five metres away, six large steps, to where Ryan Two is standing on his own. Stokes pushes him a couple of times, as Ryan Two keeps trying to placate him and saying ‘Stop.’ Stokes throws his sixth punch, largely missing as his target ducks.
Ryan Two keeps pulling away and reversing, into the middle of the street now. Stokes follows him, grabbing his sleeve to drag him back. By this point Ryan One has found his feet and walked around behind his friend. Both of them are in the same line of sight for Stokes, and both are backing away. Stokes aims his seventh and his eighth punches, which Ryan Two tries to deflect, as Hales walks up behind Stokes to grab him.
Stokes yanks away from his friend and switches to Ryan One instead, taking seven paces to grab him before throwing his ninth punch of the night. He grabs again; Ryan One blocks that arm and pushes himself back away from Stokes. Ryan Two again intercedes, putting himself between the two with his palms up and his arm extended.
Stokes throws his tenth punch, a right-hander at the face of Ryan Two, then shoves him backwards. Ryan Two backs away once more, four paces. Stokes follows, steadies, lines up, then launches his strongest punch yet, his eleventh, a proper right hook from a solid base, one that cracks across the man’s head and gives him concussion. Ryan Two ends up flat on his back in the middle of the street, his hands still outstretched for a moment in useless protest until they twitch and drop to the blacktop.
Stokes isn’t done. He once more shoves away the restraining Hales and follows Ryan One, who keeps backing away saying, ‘Alright, alright, alright.’ Five more paces from Stokes before another blow at the man’s head. Kai and Billy are now standing over the poleaxed Ryan Two. The video ends, but seconds later Stokes will punch Ryan One hard enough to knock him out too, before off-duty cop Andrew Spure arrives on the scene to bring down the curtain. When the body-camera footage kicks in some minutes later, Stokes is in handcuffs but Ryan One is still laid out in the street. Ryan Two has regained consciousness, folded his shirt under his friend’s head and is asking police for an ambulance.
‘At this point, I felt vulnerable and frightened. I was concerned for myself and others.’ This was how Stokes described that sequence to the court. An elite athlete with years of gym work and training to snap a bat through the line of a ball with astounding power and precision, swinging fists as hard as he can at men with none of those advantages. Punching so hard that he breaks his hand, and repeatedly shoving away a friend so he can punch some more. Frightened and threatened by two targets shouting ‘Get back!’ and ‘Stop!’
The off-duty officer testified that Stokes ‘seemed to be the main aggressor or was progressing forward trying to get to’ Ryan One, who was ‘trying to back away or get away from the situation’. The student who filmed the video can be heard on the tape at one stage exclaiming ‘Fuck!’ and testified that it was because ‘I felt a little bit sorry about the lad that had been punched and it looked like he had his hands up’. That tallied with the prosecutor’s depiction of ‘a sustained episode of significant violence that left onlookers shocked at what was taking place’.
The defendant stuck to his strategy. ‘No, my sole focus was to protect myself.’ All up, in the 33 seconds of footage after he falls over, Stokes takes 35 steps forward to keep hitting two men who keep trying to get away. Not once is he hit back.
After the verdict, Stokes’ solicitor positioned him as the victim. It had been ‘an eleven-month ordeal for Ben … The jury’s decision fairly reflects the truth of what happened that night … He was minding his own business … It was only when others came under threat that Ben became physically engaged. The steps that he took were solely aimed at ensuring the safety of himself and the others present …’ The statement was impossibly self-righteous and self-absorbed.
If there was anyone to feel sorry for it was Ryan Hale, the second of our two Ryans. He’s the one who emerged from the club with a friendly arm around the shoulder for Kai and Billy. He’s the one who interposed himself to end the fight, then kept putting himself back in the firing line, trying to calm an intimidating stranger while dodging blows. For his show of restraint he got laid out regardless, concussed in the street, then was issued a criminal charge equal to that of the man who hit him, and described in national media as a violent bigot in an untested story to support that man’s defence.
Lawyers for Ryan Two made a more convincing post-trial statement, noting that Kai and Billy, ‘neither of whom were relied upon by the prosecution or the defence team for Mr Stokes, have taken the opportunity to speak with various media outlets about the alleged homophobic abuse that they received in the early hours of September 25. Mr Hale has passionately denied this allegation throughout the course of this case,’ it continued.
‘It is upsetting to Mr Hale that although he was acquitted, the accusation that he was the author of such abuse remains. Both Mr Hale and Mr Ali were knocked unconscious by Mr Stokes, and although Mr Stokes has been acquitted of an affray, Mr Hale struggles with the reasons why the Crown Prosecution Service did not treat him as a victim of an unlawful assault.’Good question. Avon and Somerset police were the investigating force, and they were frustrated by the decision. Ryan Two was filmed clearly not hurting anyone, but police were instructed by the CPS to proceed with a charge. Hales (the cricketer) was filmed fighting but ‘a decision was made at a senior level of the CPS’ not to proceed. Police expected Stokes to be charged with assault but the CPS declined. It doesn’t take a wild cynic to think that placing the same lukewarm charge on three men for vastly divergent behaviour might ensure that none would be convicted, even as the trial would maintain the pretence that a defendant of influential standing had not been given a free pass.
A couple of years down the line, the original interview with Kai and Billy has disappeared. All traces have been scrubbed from The Sun website, its social media history, and even from the Wayback Machine internet archive. Given its headline of ‘homophobic thugs’ and text that names Ryan Two but not Ryan One, the libel liability isn’t hard to spot. Later interviews with Kai and Billy take the passive voice – they ‘suffered homophobic slurs outside a Bristol nightclub’.
The article that was once claimed to exonerate brave Ben Stokes now links only to a missing content page, with a picture of a dropped ice-cream cone and the phrase ‘legal removal’ inserted into the web URL. In terms of consequences, Stokes missed one tour. When he resumed his career in January 2018, the Australians hadn’t yet ruined theirs. Their year-long bans looked much more stringent. But the Stokes case dragged on in other ways. With no criminal liability, the Australians confessed promptly enough for the sporting world to give them the full length of the lash. Their situation was ugly but there was closure. Stokes got stuck in legal stasis, unable to be fully backed or condemned. Instead his issue was always present, a browser full of open tabs that the ECB swore they would read any day now.
Through 2018 Stokes was back but he wasn’t back, in the sunglasses and finger-guns sense. In his return one-day series he nearly cost England a match with 39 from 73 balls in Wellington. His first Test hit was a duck as England got rolled in Auckland for 58. At Trent Bridge while Stokes was injured, England posted a world record 481 against Australia. With Stokes three weeks later at the same ground they made 268. He crawled to 50 from 103, the second-slowest any Englishman had reached that milestone in 20 years. That span covered Alastair Cook’s whole career. It was apologetic batting, acting out responsibility via the scorecard. Stokes was creeping back into the team like he’d been kicked out in a blazing row and was hoping to tip-toe to the sofa.
It was December 2018 before the ECB disciplinary committee ruled on him and Hales. In a ‘remarkable coincidence’, wrote Simon Heffer in The Telegraph, ‘the punishment both players faced in terms of bans from playing at international level was covered by the amount of games they had already missed when dropped by England’s selectors, in the furore that followed the incident’. The verdict compounded the omissions around the case by not addressing the violence at its heart. Nor did Stokes, apologising only ‘to my team-mates, coaches and support staff’, and then ‘to England supporters and to the public for bringing the game into disrepute’.
The implicit next step was to rebuild that reputation. It might have been easier had his court defence not meant that he wasn’t game to admit any fault at all. It might have been easier if he or his advisers had been willing to change tack once the trial was done. Imagine a world where Stokes had stood outside court and apologised for overreacting, for the injuries he’d caused, and for the time and energy he had sucked out of other people’s lives. That would have been a show of responsibility beyond a scorecard. When the time came around to assess forgiveness, it might have meant forgiveness was deserved.

“The Canadian Epstein” — Disgraced fashion mogul Peter Nygard's own SON is helping police investigate his alleged sex crimes

Disgraced fashion mogul Peter Nygard's own SON is helping police investigate his alleged sex crimes By Guy Adams Investigates For The Daily Mail
15 Jan 2021
Link to article
'He has become my arch-nemesis. I no longer regard him as my father . . . He is a monster. I am now here to serve in any way I can, to support survivors and the justice process and also to help expose the people who covered up his crimes.'
Kai Bickle's world came tumbling down one night in May 2019, when he attended a dinner party at a lavishly decorated mansion overlooking the golden sands of Venice Beach in Los Angeles.
The host was his father, Peter Nygard, a Canadian fashion tycoon famed for the hedonistic lifestyle he pursued at a global portfolio of high-end properties, including vast residences in Winnipeg, Toronto and Montreal, as well as New York, and, most notoriously, a Mayan-themed 'private luxury resort' in the Bahamas.
Modelling himself on Playboy founder Hugh Hefner, the flamboyant Nygard, now 79, kept a revolving harem of girlfriends. Those caught up (often completely unwittingly) in this web had included actresses Susan Anton and Jennifer O'Neill, stripper-turned-reality star Anna Nicole Smith, and a former Wheel Of Fortune card turner by the name of Vanna White.
His Caribbean parties, meanwhile, tended to attract a better class of A-lister. Past visitors to the island property had ranged from Jane Seymour and Bo Derek to Robert De Niro, , Michael Jackson and Joan Collins, not to mention and , who were photographed there in the early 2000s on an innocuous family holiday.
The 2019 bash, during one of Peter's occasional business trips to LA, was to be a more down-to-earth affair. Roughly 20 guests, including Kai, 38, and his younger brother Jessar (one of roughly ten offspring Nygard has fathered via more than seven women) had been invited for food and drinks, followed by a late-night poker game.
That was the plan, at least. But Kai never made it to the card- table. Instead, he fled the lavish premises in a state of distress, shortly after dinner, believing that he had just witnessed his father attempting to sexually assault an eight-year-old girl.
Details of this ugly development are (it should be stressed) strongly disputed, and we shall examine them later. But the incident would kick-start an extraordinary chain of events that culminated just before Christmas, with the arrest of Peter Nygard on nine charges of sex trafficking and racketeering.
Currently behind bars, with his $900 million (£660 million) business empire in tatters and the FBI poring over his computer hard-drives, the fallen tycoon has now been accused of rape or sexual assault by at least 57 women. Several of Nygard's accusers were children when the alleged crimes took place, and many claim they were drugged.
At least 57 women have accused him.
He will appear in court in Canada next week, seeking bail as he fights extradition to the USA.
It is, perhaps, the most high-profile and shocking sex case since handcuffs were slapped on Jeffrey Epstein. And in a remarkable twist, it turns out that a leading figure in the increasingly public campaign to prosecute Mr Nygard is his aforementioned son, Kai.
Upcoming documentary: ‘Unseamly’ Canadian Designer Peter Nygård True Crime Documentary
Behind the scenes, I can reveal that Kai has spent the past 18 months secretly helping both the U.S. and Canadian authorities investigate his own father's alleged crimes. Keeping his role hidden from Nygard and his associates for several months, he has worked tirelessly to assist victims, and their legal teams.
On the personal front, he has changed his name (taking up his mother's surname to become Kai Zen Bickle) and used his influence over various Nygard companies to block efforts to move his assets offshore, fearing that would allow him to flee. 'We have been engaged in a brutal battle against my father and his enablers,' is how Kai summed things up when we spoke this week.
'He has become my arch-nemesis. I no longer regard him as my father . . . He is a monster. I am now here to serve in any way I can, to support survivors and the justice process and also to help expose the people who covered up his crimes.'
Perhaps most remarkably of all, Kai recently helped two of his younger siblings, one of whom remains a minor, to sue Peter Nygard over claims he 'engineered' the rape of his own sons. In an extraordinary lawsuit filed in August, the boys claimed that their leathery, multi-millionaire father instructed one of his long-standing girlfriends (who was also a sex worker) to 'make a man' out of them.
The first of these alleged attacks (which, again, are vehemently denied by Nygard) took place in the Bahamas 2004, when the son was 15 and the woman was in her mid-20s. The second occurred in Winnipeg in 2018, when the younger child was 14 and the woman was in her 40s. Court papers filed by the boys stated that the unnamed girlfriend was instructed to seduce Nygard's son by showering in his bathroom so that he 'could see her naked'. Then she raped him.
Afterwards, she allegedly told the boy he 'wasn't bad' for a 'baby.' The next morning, Nygard's girlfriend brought him breakfast in bed, kissing him on the lips and announcing: 'Mommy's got you.' Kai says he first became aware of this appalling incident last spring, and was 'sickened' to hear his brothers' claims.
He would often yell and scream at his staff.
'We all spoke and decided the best course of action was to file a lawsuit publicly in the hope that other survivors would feel safe to come forward and also file criminally against Nygard,' he says. 'We were originally going to have me in the suit as my young brother's guardian, but in the end decided not to because it would reveal to Nygard that I was working against him . . . At the time I was [secretly] doing everything I could to improve the odds that he would get arrested.'
To appreciate the extraordinary journey taken by Kai, we must wind the clock back to the mid-1980s, when his father was one of Canada's most talked-about self-made millionaires.
The son of penniless immigrants from Finland, Peter Nygard had launched his empire in the late 1960s, with an $8,000 (£6,000) investment in a struggling fashion firm. By the time he was 30, the company had become one of North America's most successful suppliers of leisure and sportswear, while his flamboyant eccentricities, which included keeping parrots in his office and filling the lobby of Nygard HQ with bronze busts of himself, turned him into an object of public fascination.
In 1987, the party-loving entrepreneur purchased a 4.5-acre patch of the island of New Providence in the Bahamas and set about turning it into a 'dream home' where he could indulge his champagne lifestyle. Over the ensuing years, he built 150,000 sq ft of Mayan-themed buildings, stretching over a dozen 'cabana-style' residences. The buildings at Nygard Cay eventually included a casino, a disco hut (with cameras beneath the dance floor, reportedly to shoot images of revellers from below), and the world's largest sauna, a 6,000 sq ft lodge made from 2ft-thick Canadian pine logs.
In the grounds were fake volcanoes that belched dry ice, a flock of peacocks, stone cobras which hissed steam at sunset, 60 ft towers festooned with hundreds of flaming torches (lit nightly by staff) and giant statues of nude women, purportedly modelled on some of Nygard's favourite girlfriends.
At weekends, he would host lavish parties, which appeared on various TV documentaries, including Lifestyles Of The Rich And Famous.
The place became a magnet for freeloading celebrities and, while Kai believes they generally had the most fleeting and brief relationship with Nygard, photos of their visits were then plastered across company literature and websites.
Prince Andrew, to cite one example, was recorded for posterity wandering with the long-haired fashion magnate on the beach, wearing blue shorts and boat shoes.
Born in the 1980s, Kai spent the first three years of his life in the Bahamas until his mother, Patricia, left Nygard, with whom she'd had three children but never married.
They moved first to California and then to the Pacific Northwest in the U.S. Over subsequent years, he had almost no regular contact with the fashion tycoon aside from occasional visits during school holidays, where he met various half-siblings.
'He would have one family weekend per year at his lake cottage, and a few days set aside for Christmas,' says Kai of the somewhat unorthodox arrangement. 'During those times, the days were filled with activities like horseback riding or mini golf.
'He could be a very charismatic person when he wanted to be and the family weekends were very light and brief.'
In the very limited time he spent with his father during childhood, Kai saw nothing that gave him reason to suspect that Peter Nygard was guilty of criminality, though he did have a highly volatile personality.
'He would yell and scream at his staff often, and that always was upsetting to everyone around it, but he would describe his yelling as 'passion' because of his 'high standards',' Kai says.
Nygard's children were further told that he 'lived a consensual, non-monogamous lifestyle,' Kai says. 'He made speeches at dinner to family when we were together to talk about how he hoped everyone got a wonderful partner and wished that he could find that special someone, but that it wasn't the life for him.
'He also had girlfriends that were persistently with him, always two or three, and often they were around for years. He wasn't embarrassed about it. He flaunted it on TV, it was part of his brand, something he showed the whole world. He was proud of it.'
Be that as it may, rumours of predatory behaviour by Nygard —and worse — had occasionally reared their ugly head, only to be quickly suppressed: a relatively easy task before the internet.
In 1980, for example, he was charged with the rape of an 18-year-old, but the charge was dropped when the complainant refused to testify. In 1996, three female employees meanwhile filed sexual harassment complaints in the Canadian province of Manitoba.
It looked like his hand was on her thigh, rubbing.
One, a 39-year-old communications manager, said that, when called into Nygard's office, she would 'find him in a state of undress . . . with his hands down the front of his pants, fondling himself.' He settled by giving the women $18,500 (£13,600) and denied any wrongdoing.
Then, in 2010, a Canadian TV network put out a Panorama-style documentary about Nygard, focusing on alleged sex abuse and harassment of former employees.
It quoted a former stewardess on his private plane who alleged that on one journey — during which Nygard was accompanied by a troupe of topless women — he lost his temper with staff, shouting: 'You are nothing! You are garbage! I am God!'
The programme also alleged that Nygard had engaged in 'inappropriate sexual contact' with a young woman who had been brought to his home in 2003 from the Dominican Republic. Nygard denied that either incident had happened, and sued to stop the documentary being broadcast.
Fast forward to May 2019, however, and those ugly incidents were largely forgotten. Kai, who was by then in his late 30s, had worked for his father's companies for just over two years after leaving college, but quit to pursue a career in activism and health science.
Nygard's trip to Los Angeles afforded them a rare opportunity to catch up, so he attended the aforementioned dinner party in Venice Beach.
As the night wore on, he recalls becoming uncomfortable about his father's behaviour towards an eight-year-old girl, who was attending with her mother, one of Nygard's old girlfriends.
'He's got her sitting right next to him at dinner, which is usually his girlfriend chair. And he's a creature of routine. So I'm already thinking this is weird.
'He's trying to act like the Papa. It was just weird . . . I'm noticing things. I'm noticing that he's telling her little secrets at dinner. Putting his hand close to her ear and going all hush-hush.' At the end of dinner, most of the other 20-odd guests got up to adjourn to the card table. However, Kai adds: 'I'm still watching him. Her chair gets pushed back. He brings her round to him.
'She was on his right side. He brings her to his left side, with his arm around her waist, and I see his elbow change and start moving as if — it looked to me, I couldn't see, but it looked like his hand was on her upper thigh, and rubbing. That's what it looked like to me . . . Everything in my body told me he was doing something terrible.'
'I had a huge adrenaline rush and I immediately told the mother to get her daughter away from him,' he adds. 'I stood up next to him and looked in his eyes. At that moment, for me, it was like all the walls were crashing down around him . . . And I realised that, yeah, he's probably trying to groom that girl.'
Nygard vigorously denied wrongdoing, and even called Kai 'sick' for thinking as much. But Kai was unconvinced.
Then, in February last year, ten women filed a bombshell lawsuit in New York claiming that the fashion magnate had used wealth and status to 'entice underage girls' from 'young, impressionable and often impoverished backgrounds' into his home, where they would be 'plied with alcohol' and (some allege) date-rape drugs, before being taken to Nygard's private quarters, where he would 'assault, rape and sodomise' them. Court papers claimed they were then coerced into joining a globe-trotting harem of sex workers paid thousands of dollars from Nygard's company funds and trafficked around the world on his company's private jet, which reportedly boasts a stripper pole.
One alleged victim, who was just 14 at the time, claimed Nygard raped her and paid her $5,000 (£3,700).
Another said her encounter with Nygard began with him showing her pornography after which he raped her, 'causing her extraordinary trauma and pain', the suit states.
Three of his existing ten accusers were 14 at the time. Three more were 15.
Within days, dozens more alleged victims had come forward. By the summer, some 57 survivors were pursuing legal action — and the number of alleged victims had reached 100.
Kai again confronted his father, only to be told it was all 'lies' and asked to speak out publicly in his father's support. But days later a friend texted Kai to complain about a recent visit to Nygard's house in Los Angeles.
'He said he'd brought a female friend with him, who had one or two drinks and had started to feel very high. Nygard took her up to his room and aggressively had sex with her, not using a condom.
'When I heard that, I knew he was not only as bad as people said he was, but was a dangerous criminal and had to be stopped.' He duly alerted the authorities about the friend's message. In a podcast called Live To Walk Again, released this week, he revealed that he began helping both the police and the alleged victims' lawyers, who he regards as 'heroes'.
Over the summer, Kai also used official positions held in Nygard firms to block two apparent efforts to move assets overseas, amid concerns that the tycoon might flee to evade justice.
PODCAST EPISODE: Peter Nygard Discusses His Father
'Through the course of ten months I also helped several survivors to file criminally against him, and spent countless hours on the phone with survivors, lawyers and authorities,' he says. Last month Nygard was arrested on U.S. charges at a home in the Royalwood area of Winnipeg. He spent Christmas behind bars and has consistently denied any wrongdoing, saying he 'expects to be vindicated' in court.
Kai has renounced his inheritance and is working on 'making the world a better place' by campaigning to close legal loopholes exploited by sex offenders.
'I'm very happy earning my own money, as I have all my life. We've never had a trust fund or an allowance, and since his money has been made through pain and suffering, I won't accept a potential inheritance,' he says.
His father's cash, he says, should instead go towards compensating victims. 'My focus now is to help the healing process.'

Notes from WOR - Tony Khan Interview

The Future That Never Was: KITTY KITTY - #2 THE TWISTED HEIST

RR link
Previous chapter (RETRO COSMOS)
#2 - THE TWISTED HEIST
A star had just gone out in the distance, sending its entire system, planets and moons, into oblivion. So, what was a simple life compared to a sun? Did the human existence that earthlings highly cherished in the past deserve so much fuss?
I would say no, of course, because I’m a cat. Our condition to us felines will never have to pale in front of a shiny astronomical object. Mine specifically, don’t you think?
Oswald Avery was merely a Homo sapiens. A retired buccaneer, fermenting his adulterated wine on the carcass of a drifting supercargo; all under the remodeled features of a former Galactic Trade Company’s pilot. Alas, regardless of the genetic disguise, the FID rarely lied. It hadn’t fooled us and the masks had fallen off. Just like him.
I’m such a poet.
Anyway… Avery had had a long life of crimes and adventures. He was full of energy in his youth. And as in the universe, nothing is lost, nothing is created, everything is transformed, this energy was reincarnated in a nice amount in our bank account once the old picaroon flatlined.
“We finally got it! And it was a traditional Martian contract. Payable remotely, on condition that the FID is validated. How about that?”
“God… Lee … you’re talking to yourself and it’s only 8 a.m.,” Ali grunted behind me.
My couch potato of an associate had her head still stuck in the cereal box she was nibbling before falling asleep binge-watching Captain Caveman on ABC.
“To begin with, it’s 8 p.m., Martian Time. And we do have a positive balance in our bank account for the first time in months! Do you know what that means, partner?”
“Shopping, bitches!” she shouted as she hurled herself into the void, gliding to the bathroom in the weightlessness.
With the cardboard box on the top of her head, this sugar bishop was swimming after the remnant cereals that floated on her path like Ms. Pac-Man.
“Hell! Have I just opened Pandora’s box?”
The liner Danaë and its forty-eight post-nuclear Baltimore-XVIII heavy reactors made its annual cruise from Lunapolis to the suburbs of Ceres, in the belt. Its figurehead with the effigy of the Greek princess was a two hundred meters long, green ceramic statue. The size of the ship exceeded some inhabited asteroids’ diameter so it possessed its own substantial gravitational field.
“It’s quite a symbol of the decline of humanity,” I said to Ali, pointing with my chin at this unique work of art.
“Why?” my partner asked without caring whatsoever. “Spill the beans, Plato.”
The Kitty had obtained permission to dock and began its approach. I concluded then:
“Humanity no longer erects great and beautiful things without turning them into a shopping mall.”
The gold and ivory Danaë was one of the most luxurious epicenters of human decadence in the system; comprising hotels, casinos, megastores and amusement parks spread over a dozen centrifugal rings. There was something for everyone’s wallet, ready to be emptied, whether one was welcomed at the port or had joined during the crossing.
And to my great regret, the cape of the Danaë was just passing by us that week.
“I believe we should keep our savings for the maintenance of the Swallow. The dashboard lights up like a Christmas tree. Some parts need to be changed…”
“You’re such a bore with your adult talks,” my partner said as she left the fitting room of a luxury chain overlooking the main deck. “What do you think of that? Sexy as fuck, right?”
Her camisole didn’t hide a single inch square of flesh and I subtly pointed it out to her:
“It’s a bit of a back-alley Sally.”
I took a blow on the nose which, this time, was amply justified.
“There’s nothing chicer than Borderline. You don’t know anything about fashion. It’s crazy!”
She was furious. It was entertaining. But she was right. The human female fads were way over my head and I wasn’t a good adviser. Mostly because I didn’t care. At all.
Fortunately, the upscale shopping mall where we were staying had provided us with a free assistant who was even more servile than a decerebrate canine. As usual, the robot carrier that accompanied us did the job by flattering her with its unbearable honeyed tone:
“I find you charming, Madame. Here we have the latest fashionable lingerie on Mars. It’s an ephemeral collection that appears to have been specially made to mold your discreet curves, which seem to have been sculpted by the seraphim.”
Ali gave me a satisfied look that I pretended to ignore. Then she backtracked into the fitting room to put her black suit and pink jacket back on.
I took the opportunity to climb on the shoulders of this silly robot, servant of our servants and last link in this hierarchy whose origins go back to Ancient Egypt.
“One more move like this and I’ll turn you into a gum dispenser.”
The automaton apologized before my partner’s head emerged from behind the silk curtains which were far too fragrant for my taste.
“I just checked; it’s too expensive anyway. I ain’t buying it,” she announced. “Can you order a taxicab to take us to the hotels’ ring? You’d be a sweetheart.”
Happy to leave this irascible human with her robotic slave, I proceeded to the nearest service terminal. By the time I requested a vehicle, a flying cigarette dispenser could light me a Lucky.
“It’s forbidden to smoke in our store, Monsieur.”
The customer attaché, in his blue silk suit with elephant legs, had appeared out of nowhere. Yet, with such a shiny tie, this punk should have dazzled me from the Kuiper belt.
“Please be kind and get me a Pepper Coke instead of ruining my eyesight…” I grumbled in response.
I was in an awful mood. I definitely hated shopping. And people. Yet the pedestrian avenues of the Danaë had a very exceptional population density. Perms were making a strong comeback, as were neon tattoos and overly open flowered shirts. Under the false UVA/B sun, it was a true dance of flesh, steel and plastic bodies with assumed nudity. Implants and surgery erased the hazards of the genetic lottery for better or worse. It was so superficial. So futile. So human.
“Hello, handsome!” Ali cried out, a large smile across her face. “Lee? You didn’t tell me you knew Christophe Lambert! You know I'm a huge Highlander fan!”
My partner had just joined me, arms loaded with bags massive enough to live in it, start a family and park my chromic Pontiac Firebird. All were filled with C$400 t-shirts and sneakers that she didn’t need and would only put on once.
“No smell. Hologram,” I conclude by throwing my cigarette butt through the smiling ghost.
“Shame!” Ali sighed.
She then looked at her terminal, and continued:
“Do you think I have time to grab a watch module? There are sales in the Japanese aisle! I saw some GD-8 that would go well with my new Game Pocket! This boat is fucking rad!”
Ali could not stop humming Who wants to live forever. I had to rub my temples to avoid a migraine before the arrival of our taxicab five minutes later.
These were miniature limousines with double fake leather benches, facing each other at the back. There was a minibar with expensive multicolored drinks and sugar-soaked snacks, the sapiens’ primary source of calories and high Gs space travel drug. For the sensitive, the smart-fridge provided diet sodas with aspartame, but no one took it. Finally, there were free Gauloise cigarettes next to the ashtray on the armrest. And even Tylenol!
“What a time to be alive!”
Right after leaving the fashion district, a soft voice of a young woman, who appeared to us through the armored porthole separating her from her customers, finally emerged from the cockpit:
“Good evening! I’m Miss Meera. At your service. Hotel de Saint-Malo, correct?”
I nodded. She smiled at us. She was beautiful with her incredibly dark night metal skin that contrasted strongly with her silvery-white hair. She also had charming ivory eyes with absolutely no reflection. They were a mesmerizing void of light.
In fact, it was so rare to deal with a real person, and not an AI, that we engaged rapidly in a lovely and honest discussion with Meera. We were mostly talking about life on the Danaë. As she stated, the rules on board were very strict, even military. All was done to make sure that the customer had the most pleasant time at the expense of everything else. Finally, according to her, her condition wasn’t the most to be pitied in the cosmos. And she was fully satisfied with this precarious semi-nomadic existence.
“And what about you? Are you here on vacation or in transit for work?” she eventually asked. “What do you do for a living?”
Should we have told her that we were executing infamous people so Ali would collect expensive t-shirts and I could fulfill my nicotine addiction?
“Don’t get me wrong but I saw that you had a gun. Are you in the police… or are you pirates?”
It wasn’t the first time someone asked us this question. Although weapons were allowed on most ships and stations, it wasn’t wise to display them unless you were looking for trouble. Unfortunately, hiding such a large caliber under such a tight vest was a Herculean task.
“You can get much farther with a kind word and a gun than you can with a kind word alone”, simply quoted Ali, her forehead against the window covered with scented stickers.
Meera laughed before continuing:
“Very well, Al Capone. I understand that you’re not the type to let yourself be taken advantage of.”
The taxicab entered the central expressway after the water park then suddenly swerved violently to the left.
“What is going on?” I gasped.
After crushing the safety railing, we fell from one rotating bridge to the other in a frantic cavalcade. Judging by Meera’s swear words, this ride wasn’t part of the show.
Avoiding the stalls of an art market and a group of children coming out of an arcade, the driver finally managed to recover in extremis. It was about time, because within seconds we were passing through the transparent protective wall of the hotels’ deck.
“A thousand apologies! Another one of those mor… clients from the Middle System who doesn’t know how to use a rental car,” she shouted through the window. “Are you guys hurt?”
“No, thanks to you,” I replied, my tail spiked over my head, taped to Ali’s neck now decorated with bloody scratches.
Although my human forehead now had a bump on it the size of a golf ball, it was true that Meera had just saved our lives. This young girl had unsuspected driving talents despite taxicabs’ lack of handling. She didn’t belong here, playing the steward in a yellow circus uniform. This woman should have been a fighter pilot; or a NASCAR driver on Canyon Creek.
“In any case, here you’re almost in front of your hotel,” she replied. “You don’t have to pay anything, and I apologize again for the scare.”
From the outside, the taxicab now looked like a can of nutrigel after going through a crusher. Yet, it still worked. May God Darwin bless Venusian steel.
After thanking her, we wished Meera a good day. But the cockpit window suddenly went down on the passenger side. The smile of the driver had faded. She had tears at the corner of her white eyes.
“Wait!” she asked. “This weapon… do you really know how to use it?”
So, life on the Danaë wasn’t so sweet. As Meera explained to us in a secluded alleyway, a trio of criminals had come to threaten her a few days earlier, after finding she was a bodacious driver. They were preparing a heist in one of the flying city’s fifty casinos. The young woman was now ready to pay the price to settle the case.
“What is your opinion about this whole situation?” I asked Ali, once in our room, a small yet cozy suite whose glass walls overlooked the vacuum of space.
My human had applied a brownish ointment on her hump, which disappeared soon after, leaving only a slight pinkish hematoma.
“Meera said she would provide us with more details tomorrow. However, if she ponies up the cash, I don’t see why we would refuse. We ain’t mercs but these three guys must have a bounty on their heads. Let’s do our job, right?
“Indeed…”
All we had to do was wait for more instructions. Fortunately, it had been months since we had been able to take days off except on miserable gas stations full of drug addicts, implants scavengers and prostitutes.
After another morning of shopping, Ali went to the thalassotherapy center of the neighboring hotel. Her main occupation? Overeating sushi made by 3D nutrigel printing while getting massages.
Alas, I didn’t have the time to bask under the false sun of the lakeside resort and get my belly stroked. As a good captain, I had to go to the maintenance to fix the numerous damages of the Kitty. As always, the bill would be higher than expected.
Everything was orchestrated so that we would never hold a positive balance in this corrupted system. We had to chain contract after contract.
But Meera’s gig didn’t sound right. There was something I didn’t like and I couldn’t catch it yet. All my cat sensors were in the red. Unfortunately, the bounty hunter’s ones only saw the green of the bills.
Don’t judge me.
The young taxicab driver had finally contacted Ali again by holoconference in the early afternoon, shortly before I joined her at the exit of the tanning booths. Or as I called them: human toasters.
“Have you finished roasting like a Thanksgiving turkey?” I asked her as she plunged into the icy water of the adjacent basin, under the lustful gaze of a group of cadets from the Marine Academy.
“Meera will pick us up with a new taxicab in the hotel parking lot,” she whispered once back to me. “Alongside her, we will meet two of the criminals at the burglary location, shortly before midnight.”
“Go on.”
“We take care of these guys and we catch up with the last one: the band leader, in the storage cavities of the hangar reserved for the ship’s logistics. Below the last rotating ring.”
In Eve’s costume, Ali came out of the basin, not without deliberately drenching me. The water had a nasty chemical taste from being filtered day after day.
“Do you have any intelligence on these jokers?” I insisted while lighting a cigarette.
“The Broadway Gang. Three brothers. C$45,000 for the trio. We will also be able to recover at least C$10,000 of Techno-federal tax on their ship depending on its condition. Easy cash with the dollar credits that Meera promises us…”
Now sitting on the ledge, my partner splashed her feet to demonstrate her eagerness to head back swimming.
“Excellent! This will pay for the maintenance and allow us to save some money on our way to the belt.”
“Can I go now?” she asked, sliding back into the water.
“You may,” I had concluded before seeing her leave for her absurd wanderings that would fill her afternoon.
I myself was very busy making eyes at the wealthy guests of the hotel restaurant to glean a few pieces of Peking duck or juicy crabs. They were real farm animals from Mars. Not nutrigel. It was worth abandoning a little dignity aside.
With a full belly, I finally joined Ali in the middle of the evening. Arriving in the corridor of our suite, I crossed the group of cadets noticed near the swimming pool. They seemed tired but blissfully smiling as they just discovered the nirvana. And I knew why…
“Ali? Are you ready?” I said as I walked through the half-open bedroom door.
Her dressing gown had been thrown on the floor. Her gun and badge were resting on the bedside table against a giant bottle of Koala Springs soda and a pyramid of little Yoyo Mints.
To be honest, I expected a bigger mess.
“Gimme five minutes,” she replied while in the shower.
An hour later, we met Meera in the staff parking lot behind the recycling stations. Without further discussion, we joined the expressway in the taxicab. Between two noisy info-ads, the radio played Sweet Transvestite then the rest of the mythical Rocky Horror soundtrack.
“I wonder what Tim Curry’s up to these days,” asked Ali while browsing the intraweb on her implant.
“Being legendary as usual,” I answered.
Afterwards, the casino was in sight. But once on the forecourt illuminated by the gold and silver bulbs, we heard gunshots and screams. My partner and I quickly realized that this was a violent robbery rather than a modest heist.
“What the fuck, Meera?” Ali asked, turning to the porthole that separated us from the cockpit.
There was a hint of irritation in her voice.
Meera remained mute, her hands on the wheel and her gaze forward. In the rear-view mirror the young woman looked panicked.
The right door of the vehicle suddenly opened and two men sat down in front of us. They were wearing theater masks: the first was Melpomene, the sad grimace of tragedy; the second, Thalia, the twisted smile of comedy. Each brigand carried a huge metal block under his arm; drawers that were sure to be full of cash. On the other hand, they held their still smoking ZeG-4 machine guns even more firmly.
When they saw us, they both gasped, in unison:
“What the fuck, Meera?”
One… two. One… two.
Four holes in their faded tuxedo. Four bullets as big as a cat’s eye that silenced them forever, before slowly repainting the bench in red.
“What the fuck was that? You killed them!” Meera shouted this time, as she started the electric engine. “You had tasers at your disposal, you psychos!”
She had finally turned around. Her voice was quivering. She was no longer panicked, but angry.
The tasers must have slipped between the seats because I hadn’t seen them. My partner raised her eyebrows and it made me realize that their use had never been in mind.
“We’re bounty hunters, not 9 to 5 social workers!” continued Ali. “Now, you gotta motor, otherwise the cops will shoot our ass on the spot before we could even meet the third dude!”
Meera put her foot on the pedal and one could almost hear the noise of the thrusters melting the white asphalt.
“I can perceive the sirens, Ali,” I concluded before Meera entered the ring's external road reserved for logistic transport.
We then had the shortest car chase we had taken part in. The Danaë security forces may not have had the best elements in the system, but Meera’s talents didn’t give them a chance. We had crossed half a dozen rotative bridges to the rhythm of Take on Me, zigzagging between expressways and maintenance tunnels to arrive before the song ended at the deserted logistics hangar.
It was similar to a huge supermarket with honeycombed shelves. Each of these garages, dimly illuminated by red LEDs, housed a delivery or transport vessel. There was the most impressive fleet I had ever seen.
In one of the first level’s cells stood, between a set of clamps, a Swift-0 scout, from Peugeot Corp, with wings spread. The Swifts were small and very high-end single-seaters. They could be modified to integrate weapons systems, but their primary characteristics were velocity and evasion.
Leaning on the flank of the mono-turbine, the last of the three criminals, a tall blond man with a “Chevy Chase” prominent chin was looking down on the approaching taxicab.
“Were they planning to escape on that ship? The three of them?” I remarked when the vehicle stopped a few meters from the small vessel.
But Meera ignored me.
“Hand me the money, I’m going out. That was the agreement.”
The porthole opened at its base, allowing us to pass the steel cash drawers. Once the taxicab’s ignition was turned off, only their holographic numbers glowed in the dark.
“It’s all over if his cronies don’t stick their noses out of the car,” Ali replied, finally giving the second drawer away. “He’s going to figure out that it went south. He will kill you!”
Outside, the man was getting impatient. Blinded by the taxicab’s headlights, he came closer before exclaiming:
“Zéphyr, are you there? Where are my brothers? Security is closing all the departure modules. We will be stuck here, for fuck’s sake!”
He now had a gun in his hand. A machine gun identical to those of his companions currently bathed in their blood, nailed to the seats.
“Zéphyr? Wait… I know that name!” I meowed to myself.
The doors and portholes of the taxicab were locked. Ali and I were now stuck in the back with the two flatlined and most wanted criminals on the ship.
“Sorry guys, but I’ll handle the rest.”
Miss Meera, alias Zéphyr, smiled at us through the armored glass just before leaving the cockpit by the driver’s door.
“What a fucking piece of shit… Lee? Do you have a plan? I think the windows are bulletproof. I don’t feel like testing. Especially if it’s bouncing around with us inside, we will be turned into ground beef!”
“Did you forget who I am, my dear?”
I was already crawling under the seat, between a pair of Méduse shoes and half nibbled fried rat wings. It was time to demonstrate all my infiltration skills learned from Ninja Gaiden. Unfortunately, both the crab and the duck slowed me down and my belly remained for a few seconds stuck under the driver’s seat with my head on the brake pedal. How outrageous!
From the porthole, I saw Ali watching what was happening in front of us, near the ship. Our eyes met for a brief moment and I could read on her lips: “diet kibble”.
“Better off dead!” I shouted.
My paw reached the bottom of the dashboard, activating the mechanical opening of doors and windows. And, accidentally, the loudest horn in this dimension.
“My bad!”
My sapiens immediately jumped outside, pointing her gun to Zéphyr. Surprised by the thunderous din, her target pivoted towards us, uncovered, turning her back to the human with the magnificent chin and his ZeG-4 who yelled:
“What in the whole universe is that? Wait! I know her! Did you bring us bounty hunters? You were clearly planning to double-cross us!”
The man shouted and his gun produced a rain of bullets. It first hit the windshield of the taxicab, passing through the conductor compartment where I was. The rounds bent the windscreen, but it held. This wasn’t, however, the case for the hood, protecting the engine and the reservoir full of coolant, which ended up covering the seat and my face.
Fortunately, the sticky alcohol allowed me to escape from this trap and jump out of the vehicle through the window I had previously opened. But, once again, a fire ring enveloped the ZeG-4’s cannon.
“This is how I die…” I meowed, eyes closed.
I was violently tackled and hit the ground. Zéphyr had saved me at the last moment, just before bullets obliterated the front of the taxicab.
Other projectiles ricocheted off the metal money drawers on the floor and got lost in the ceiling, activating the fire sprinklers. This incident triggered a silent light alarm throughout the hangar while the mobster prepared a new salvo.
“Don’t hurt my pilot, you narbo!” roared my partner.
Ali, this time taken as a target, retaliated. She fired a single shot towards the rascal with a formidable precision. No one knew how to handle such a heavy gun as she did. She was my human. She was the best in her field: murder.
And I taught her everything. Almost.
The leader of the robbers tried to reload the magazine of his weapon, unaware that his heart had been punctured a few seconds before. Adrenaline was doing its job. But the blood loss caused by the explosion of the aorta at its base, near the ventricles, gradually stopped him in his gesture. His pressure dropped and the bloodstream no longer reached the brain sufficiently. He was already in a coma when his shoulders touched the ground. He was luckier than the average Joe and died a few seconds later.
“Is everything all right?”
My voice was trembling, still in shock from this disaster. I was wet and frozen.
Zéphyr got up with difficulty. Next to us, one of the metal drawers was opened, revealing a bunch of green bills and a much stranger booty: an eight-inch gold diskette with suspicious Chinese symbols.
Well… I couldn’t read them but Chinese symbols on stuff are always suspect, aren’t they?
But there were more important matters. Because my partner, on the other hand, stayed on the ground. Blood was dripping from her black suit and mixed with the clear firefighting fluid that was falling like an endless rain.
I tried to talk to her again but my voice was lost in a groan.
“Why are you whining, you big baby? It’s just blood.”
With her nose in a puddle, my sapiens smiled at me. Her left hand was compressing her abdomen. The bullet had passed through the external oblique muscle, far from the stomach.
It wasn’t that bad after all but she had scared me. And that deserved a scratch on the wrist that made her scream:
“What the fuck?”
“And the medical expenses? Have you thought about medical expenses? We don’t have insurance!”
“God, Uncle Scrooge! I hate you!”
“We won’t be able to fix the Kitty with your heroic outbursts!” I fulminated to mask my joy of seeing her in one piece.
“I will kill you, Muppet! I almost died! I don’t give a fuck about your rusty trash can which flies like a brick!”
It was true that we hadn’t had a fight for a long time.
“Guys…” intervened Zéphyr.
“What?”
Ali and I had spoken together.
“These three ruffians had planned to steal the diskette drive from me once I got back. I needed a hand, so… thank you… I guess.”
“You’re welcome,” my human answered dryly while sitting.
Although Zéphyr saved me, I didn’t share the same kindness:
“Wait, we’re not letting him go! Do you know who he is?”
Zéphyr. Prince of thieves. And yes, he wasn’t much of a princess either. Just an androgynous cyborg. A breakout king wanted throughout the entire system for his affiliation with the Data Brokers’ Guild. With an incredible bounty of C$800,000, she or he… whatever… was the knight of the brokers’ chessboard.
“I think we’ve had enough for today,” Ali said. “Unless you hope to go after him with these big fat guts of yours.”
“By the 79 moons of Jupiter, you shall pay for this, woman!” I meowed, angry.
My ears were backwards and my hairs were spiky. But soaking wet, it just made Ali and Zéphyr laugh.
Disgrace!
“He’s so cute when he’s furious,” he joked.
Now on his knees, the night-skinned androgynous was blotting Ali’s wound with a torn piece of fabric from his driver’s uniform.
“But more seriously, I need to go. With the bounty, you’ll be able to repair your vessel. As for the hospital fees, I will contact a good friend who will take care of you for free. She’s the ship’s chief medical officer.”
“Thank you,” I simply replied as he helped my partner get back on her feet.
“It’s the least I can do. I wasn’t interested in money. More important information is contained in this,” he said as he was picking up the floppy disk.
This golden diskette must have been worth a lot of cash for Zéphyr to play a taxicab driver to ensure coverage. I had perceived that something was fishy!
Then, halfway to his Swift-0, Zéphyr stopped. I witnessed his hesitation.
“There was nothing personal, you know. We’re all just trying to make our way. The best we can…”
And he ultimately left before adding:
“Maybe we’ll see each other again! You seem like fun.”
Before fleeing away, Zéphyr abandoned one of the boxes near the criminal’s corpse. Thus, he validated the theory of a robbery that had gone wrong. When the security arrived a few minutes later, we were the heroes of the day. And with a little bribe, nobody cared about Zéphyr’s missing ship.
This whole story surely left us a bitter taste. A feeling of defeat and humiliation that the swimming pool under the synthetic sun couldn’t make disappear even a week after.
“He undoubtedly played us as we were rookies, with his little face of a young innocent girl in distress,” I said to Ali right after the end of the daily Brett Maverick.
This old show was dispensed on a couple of giant screens suspended by drones.
Until now, Ali had remained silent on her deckchair; with a brick of sour juice stuck between her breasts and a pair of straws between her teeth. Only inaudible grunts emanated from her mouth since the departure of the sexually unclassifiable mugger.
“I wonder what information this fucking cyber-Tootsie could have been looking for in that casino,” my human mumbled as she squeaked her rainbow flip-flops.
“Admit that it’s not really that question that puts you in such a state…” I answered, now well installed on my motorized buoy that I had gotten as a gift in a diet kibbles package.
“You bet! I will have a nasty tan mark on my stomach with these bandages!” she exploded, spitting out her plastic straws with infinite curls.
My float slipped towards the ledge as a robot came to bring us our next glucose overdose.
Ali finally added:
“I swear that if we run into him again, I’ll smack his fucking angel face.”
Back to business!

Chapter by Chapter Summary of Comprehensive Research on Discrimination Against Men in Finland (PhD Thesis)

What can you do as an MRA?

Can other people with less obvious MRA accounts like me i.e. more normal looking accounts, post stuff (this is a general comment, not just for this thread) post this on more mainstream threads e.g. Finland sub, sociology, etc.... MAKE SURE you are polite, factual, avoid emotive language, avoid talking about feminism, and post high quality stuff
Comment here particular quotes, passages, excerpts that are relevant. Especially since its such a long document, this will be useful for all of us.
You can make these excerpts into separate threads if worthy.
Share this on social media? (set up an anon MRA twitter, Facebook etc... MRA is thriving on social media. It is good as its a lot more activism based)
If you live in Finland, send some emails to journalists (you can search journalists who have already discussed mens issues), and send some to politicians etc. You can easily write one letter and send it to multiple people. Maybe the individual excerpts/issues you find would be better to send (and then you could also add the whole document summary as an addendum for reference for the reader) - Finland is a small country, I dont think many users will be from there here.
NOTE: It is good that these issues are being increasingly recognised, and more people are doing this as projects in academia. This is only growing and snowballing as more people are red pilled. Look up Male Psychology Network, they are doing fantastic work, growing and have presented an ALTERNATIVE to patriarchy conspiracy theory and are working to dismantle the idea in academia. https://youtu.be/LHYRYKCIDxk?t=591

Main Body - Here it is:

This is a chapter-by-chapter summary of Discrimination Against Men: Appearance and Causes in the Context of a Modern Welfare State, a 2009 doctoral dissertation by Pasi Malmi (University of Lapland) that provides an impressively detailed and balanced investigation of discrimination against men in Finland (the theory and results actually give almost as much detail on discrimination against women, although men will be the focus here).
Chapters 5 to 8 are the most important. Chapter 5 explains six biases that cause gender discrimination, chapter 6 delineates the patriarchal and matriarchal subsystems of Finnish society, chapter 7 examines the various discourses that justify discrimination against men, and chapter 8 analyzes a database of gender discrimination complaints made to the Finnish gender equality ombudsman, a third of which were made by men.
(Length: 1,800 words.)
Chapters 1 to 4 (introductory/background chapters)
Chapter 1 situates the perspective taken by the dissertation within gender studies. It rejects anti-feminist and anti-women perspectives, and the glorification of traditional masculinity and gender roles (e.g., the mythopoetic men’s movement). But it also rejects the “critical studies of men” paradigm, which sees men as the main causes of men’s and women’s problems, refuses to criticize feminism or women, and does not believe that discrimination against white, heterosexual, middle-class men exists (pp. 20–21).
Chapter 2 defines various relevant concepts, and explains that the findings from Finland are intended to be relevant primarily for the Northern European welfare states, and secondarily for other European and Anglo-American countries (pp. 32–34).
Chapter 3 gives a brief overview of current or traditional viewpoints on what causes direct or indirect discrimination or mistreatment of men: gender roles, hegemonic masculinity, industrial capitalism, feminism (specifically gender feminism and victimization feminism), and exploitative women (pp. 36-44).
Chapter 4 develops a theory of sociocultural evolution, which says that ideas that are simple, exaggerated, and coherent with popular paradigms generally win out over their rivals, regardless of whether they are true or backed up by evidence. This happens due to functional selection (p. 57), unintentional biases (p. 63), and interest group bias (p. 71), among other factors (see summary, p. 115).
Chapter 5: Applying the Theory to Gender Discrimination (p. 118)
This chapter develops a general theory of gender discrimination, centered on a typology of six different biases that cause gender discrimination (p. 127).
The masculine bias and feminine bias are unintentional gender biases caused by the processes that simplify, exaggerate, and mutate people’s mental memes or ideas according to their gender (p. 127). For example, a person’s conception of domestic work or childcare will be centered on their own experiences or contributions, which are partly determined by their gender, and so they will often downplay/exclude the other gender’s contributions (e.g., yardwork vs. housework) (pp. 135–138). As a result of these biases, segregated groups and networks of men or women tend to have a masculine-biased or feminine-biased culture of values, priorities, concepts, words, stories, jokes, stereotypes and beliefs that can lead to practices that discriminate against the other gender (p. 120). For example, a group of female social workers might decide that women are better custodians of children and default to recommending custody to them (pp. 141–142).
The masculist bias and feminist bias come from interest groups, networks, or movements seeking to advance the status of men or women, respectively. Masculism and feminism have sexist and anti-sexist branches (p. 143). The modern sexist branch of feminism includes theories like feminist standpoint epistemology (which gives special status to women’s feelings and intuitions) and the feminist theory of social work (interests of women and children are synonymous, social workers should identify with their female customers). It also includes stereotypes that women are unselfish, peaceful, responsible, loving, hard working, while men are the opposite (pp. 149–152). The anti-sexist branch of feminism by definition is less hostile towards men as people, but it is not necessarily able or willing to accept men’s issues: “[i]n general, the idea of the discrimination of men is perceived as bizarre by feminists” (pp. 155–158). The sexist branch of masculism is discussed primarily in the context of religion (pp. 144–129). The anti-sexist branch of masculism has little power, although it is discussed as sometimes being the source of biased statistics downplaying women’s issues (pp. 152–155).
The alpha male bias and alpha female bias are the biases of high status (wealthy, powerful, attractive, etc.) members of each gender against low status members of their gender. They are particularly apparent in high status men’s bias against male criminals (male judges giving harsher treatment, including sentences, to them compared to women) and high status women’s bias against female prostitutes (pp. 170–173).
A central point of this dissertation is that male-dominated and female-dominated organizations (the patriarchal and matriarchal subsystems) are prone to predominantly discriminate against the other gender, but it’s important to clarify that they’re not guaranteed to do so. The masculine and feminine biases (the unintentional “own gender” biases) are just two of the six biases. An organization could be more influenced by the ideological biases (masculist and feminist biases) or the biases against low social status people of each gender (alpha male and alpha female biases).
Chapter 6: Locating the Patriarchal and Matriarchal Subsystems of the Finnish Society (p. 188)
This chapter identifies Finnish society’s patriarchal and matriarchal subsystems by looking at various measures of power, including raw numbers, managerial positions, control of knowledge, and informal positions of power (p. 222).

Patriarchal subsystem: technology, commerce, state finances, defense, agriculture, transportation, trade, corporative labor and employer organizations.
Matriarchal subsystem: healthcare, social services, social policy, equality policy, hotels, restaurants, and some cultural services.

Not all areas of Finnish society fall into one of these subsystems.
Chapter 7: An Empirical Examination of the Memeplexes, Discourses and Coalitions that Induce Discrimination against Men (p. 224)
This chapter analyzes the discourses that justify discrimination against men, coming from sources that include sexism and feminism.
Sexism: The development of the modern misandric versions of sexism is examined, including 19th century views of men as “barbarians whose urges had to be leashed in by the forces of decency—meaning women—if civilization were to survive” (p. 233), which it attributes to the joint interests of women and upper class men. Notions of chivalry and macho masculinity also lead to institutionalized belief systems where men’s comfort, health, and even lives are considered less important than women’s (p. 238). Macho masculinity, with its aversion to men “complaining”, tends to oppose talking about men’s issues or seeing them as relevant for gender equality (p. 306).
Feminism: Certain influential varieties of feminism see women as the disadvantaged and discriminated gender (p. 247). Thus the sole purpose of equality policy is women’s advancement (p. 256) and men are largely reduced to the role of defendant (p. 270). When faced with cases requiring a choice between promotion of equality and empowerment of women, many feminists reacted by rejecting equality as outdated or as a smokescreen for promoting men’s interests over women. Under these discourses, “the empowerment of women is more important than the advancement of gender equality in all contexts, including the matriarchal subsystem of the society” (pp. 259–260). That would apply even to women’s advantage in family courts and criminal courts (p. 305).
Also mentioned is a combination (and mutation) of difference feminism and equality feminism which says that “women are superior to men in many ways, but men are not superior to women in any ways” (p. 296)—which means that when men are ahead it’s because of sexism, but when women are ahead it is legitimate and natural.
The groups and alliances that justify misandry and discrimination against men (p. 334):
📷
Chapter 8: Gender Discrimination, According to the Complaints Sent to the Finnish Equality Ombudsman (p. 346)
Complaints: This chapter analyzes 800 complaints of gender discrimination made between 1997 and 2004 and sent to the Finnish equality ombudsman (p. 348). Men were 33% of victims, according to the author’s suggestion for the best measure of actual discrimination in these cases (outcome types 3–5, p. 356). Labour market discrimination, the largest category, primarily involved women (76%), while the second largest category, discrimination against customers, primarily involved men (~60%).
Another category, discriminative legislation, primarily involved men (77%). Few complaints were made, but due to active conscription policies (lasting 5-12 months), almost all men in Finland are affected by discriminative legislation. The author classifies these complaints as discrimination, although the equality ombudsman does not, “as the Finnish equality law is not applicable to men’s obligatory military service” (p. 354).
Bias: Per chapter 6, equality policy itself is in the matriarchal subsystem of equality (e.g., 90% of employees in the equality ombudsman office are female, p. 354). The ombudsman has a policy not to comment on complaints involving custody and divorce, purportedly to not interfere with the court system, but the author suggests that it stems from a bias against men, perhaps due to prioritizing women’s status over equality or wanting to avoid a flood of complaints from men (p. 354). This is made more explicit by another comment from the ombudsman’s office saying that it is not taking action on certain cases of discrimination against men because “the main purpose of the equality law is to improve women’s status especially in the labor market”, suggesting that the law should be applied more strictly to cases of discrimination against women (p. 381).
Patriarchal & matriarchal subsystems: 57% of discrimination cases in the matriarchal subsystem of society (as defined in chapter 6) were against men, compared to 31% in neutral domains, and 17% in the patriarchal subsystem of society (p. 358).
Discrimination examples: Many cases of discrimination against women (e.g., a workplace that only required women to do extra cleaning tasks on top of their regular duties) are recounted on the same pages but we’ll look at men here.

In the labour market: At a mental hospital, only men were appointed to night shifts (p. 374). At a school, preference was given to hiring female teachers even though men are the “underrepresented” gender (p. 376). Many traditionally feminine jobs excluded men in their recruitment material (p. 377). A workplace allowed women to wear more casual and comfortable clothing than men (p. 377).
As customers: Favourable pricing for women in boat cruises, discotheques & dancing places, dating services, gymnastics, a theatre, restaurants, horse races, and car insurance (pp. 380–382). Also more strict clothing standards for men at a casino, higher minimum ages for men to enter restaurants, and an apartment that only allowed women (pp. 382–383).
Government administration: Subsidy for women’s osteoporosis medicines but not men’s (from pension fund), free public screening for breast cancer but not prostate cancer, higher retirement age for men (which has been changed) (pp. 387–389).
Legislation: Men’s complaints were all about the obligatory military or civil service of six to thirteen months (those who refuse get six months in prison, p. 390).

Likely motives: Two alternative rating methods (tables 52 and 53) find that either (certain) feminist ideas are the most common motivators of discrimination against men, or sexism and the feminine bias are the most common motivators (feminine bias meaning unintentional gender bias of groups of women, counterpart to masculine bias of groups of men). Financial motives were also frequent (pp. 401-402).
SOURCE: https://becauseits2015.wordpress.com/2017/10/22/comprehensive-research-on-discrimination-against-men-in-finland/

EVRI: A Gambling Ticker That's Going to Valhalla

EVRI: The True Autists Gambling Ticker
Alright dipshits, I believe I have found a ticker that has huge growth potential over the next few months that is under the radar of many. So prepare your smooth brains and tell your wife's boyfriend to leave the room so you can jerk off to these potential gains.
EVRI is Everi Holdings Inc. Don’t know what that is? They’re only “the casino industry’s only single source provider of robust payments solutions, vital intelligence offerings, and engaging gaming machines that power the casino floor” according to Casino Vendors
(Source: http://www.casinovendors.com/vendoeveri-holdings-inc/)
Now if that doesn’t make your wife’s boyfriend cream his jeans, then the following information might just make your dick hard enough to satisfy your displeasured wife. I think that EVRI could see huge growth for the following reasons
EVRI has the versatility both online and on the floor for casinos
Taking a look at this source (http://www.casinovendors.com/vendoeveri-holdings-inc/) you can see that there products and services include…

Gaming equipment and supplies: “Everi Games feature exciting original concepts, dynamic artwork, and thrilling game play that are designed to stop patrons in their tracks. Players seek out Everi’s award-winning games, cabinets, and toppers, and stream into casinos to play TournEvent® and TournEvent of Champions®”
Cash/Chips/Money/Money Handling Equipment: “CashClub® gives operators an easy-to-use single dashboard interface that streamlines check warranties and credit/debit card transaction processing. The software’s enhanced features include electronic signature capture and dynamic currency conversion. CashClub interfaces with Everi Compliance, which helps casinos meet Title 31 requirements. CashClub works with a casino operator’s existing cage workstation equipment, removing the need for a separate stand-alone terminal.”

“CentralCredit™ - The industry’s leading repository for casino-related credit data and reporting. QuikMarketing™ - This tool lays the foundation for highly targeted, cost-effective, and successful direct marketing campaigns.”
and… “Intuitive, flexible & designed Kiosks to provide a premium experience to patrons.”

Administration and Finance: “Everi Compliance™ has new and innovative compliance products expanding our ability to service patrons and casino customers. Our compliance products are the gold standard for Anti-Money Laundering (AML) compliance across the gaming industry, which allows operators to easily meet Title 31 regulatory requirements.”

To see even more versatility and see what more specific services they provide, click this link https://finance.yahoo.com/quote/EVRI/profile?p=EVRI
Based off of these services alone, any one of you extra-chromosomes gamblers can see why EVRI is able to make money both online and on the floor, physical casinos. They make online gambling games, provide systems to protect casinos, design on the floor games, have products to transfer money in and out of debit/credit cards at the casino to feed the gambler, and even have business in reporting casino data and marketing campaigns. IF THIS ISN'T A COMPANY THAT DOESN'T DO EVERYTHING THEN IDK WHAT TO TELL YOUR SMOOTH BRAIN. They are immune to COVID and can be profitable with/without it.
EVRI has great target prices from analysts and even has potential news coming up that can propel us Valhalla
https://www.casino.org/news/everi-soars-on-digital-wallet-deal-with-winstar-casino/
“But Roth Capital analyst David Bain previously said two agreements with tribal operators notched by Everi account for 15 percent of the company’s fintech business and were going overlooked by investors.” This made the price target shift from $20 to $21 for this guy.
This same article said this about David Bain as well “Today’s surge by Everi stock may not be a one-off event. Bain, the Roth Capital analyst, says another customer will roll out CashClub Wallet in the coming weeks. He didn’t identify that operator, but he did say it’s one of the largest casino firms in the world. The analyst adds that on a standalone basis, Everi’s fintech basis is worth $16 a share. When accounting for peer average multiples on gaming device suppliers, the stock could trade near $29, or more than double where it resides today.”
I know some you have a hard time reading, but that means we could see news of EVRI’s own product (CashClub) be announced to be integrated in one of the largest casinos companies in the world. If that doesn’t scream PUMP, I don't know what does
EVRI also has fantastic news of expanding, incorporating, and even being recognized as the best in their field
Refer to this link on EVRI’s website with their Investors Information. You can scroll for minutes and find positive information everywhere including but not limited to.
Everi Wins Best Slot Product and Best Consumer-Service Technology Awards for Second Consecutive Year from Global Gaming Business
Everi Highlights Roadmap for Cashless Gaming Industry Leadership
Golden Nugget Celebrates Its #777th Game on the Seventh Anniversary of nj-casino.goldennuggetcasino.com with the Launch of a Unique Custom Game Designed By Everi
Everi’s CashClub Wallet™ Launches at WinStar World Casino and Resort
Everi Digital Expands Relationship with Parx Casino, Delivering Additional Player-Preferred Slot Content for Online Real-Money Play in New Jersey
EVRI’s option chain are cheap for long dated calls
Because I am writing this after hours, the options chain will most likely change come market open, but keep in mind, they will still be cheap.
Looking at January 20c and March 22.5c, they are .18 with a .05-.3 bid/spread and .2-.25.
Yeah yeah yeah, I know what you’re thinking “oH tHE BiD aSK SpREad is TOO wIdE”. But if you guys seriously think the bid/ask spread is what has limited your autistic trades up to this point, then you’re just lying to yourself. Get your order filled, because were making fucking tendies.
THE MEME POTENTIAL OF THIS STOCK IS PERFECT FOR US RETARDS
Is there anything that is more ironic than a bunch of degenerate gamblers gambling on a gambling company that is so revered in the gambling industry that it’s not even a gamble? FUCK NO THERE’S NOT.
WE ARE MADE FOR THIS TICKER, AND AS AUTISTS AND GAMBLERS WE NEED THIS PLAY. As many of you know, once a ticker catches fire in this sub it gets HUGE coverage. Look for yourselves at the countless memes and videos of WSB getting coverage on Cramers shows and news outlets. MEMES MEAN MORE ADVERTISING, MEANS MORE PUMPS, MEANS MORE TENDIES, WHICH MEANS MORE MONEY FOR DICK PUMPS.
I rest my case.
TLDR; EVRi is a fucking powerhouse in the online/in-person gambling/casino world. They have lots of news going for them along with having cheap calls, a well run business with great price targets, good price action movement, and most importantly infinite meme potential
POSITIONS:
20 Contracts of Jan/15/2021 20c
15 Contracts of Ma19/2021 22.5c

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Bachelor of ASX betting: valuation 101