At a press conference on Tuesday, President Barack Obama told the media that despite his lame duck status, there's "more than enough time" for him to pick a replacement for conservative Supreme Court Justice and original hot-take author Antonin Scalia, who died in Texas on Saturday. Since his death, the debate over whether the Democratic president will actually get to pick a new tenant for the now-vacant seat on the bench has become the biggest real estate dispute in Washington.

In the hours after the body of the "conservative lion" was discovered at a ranch in western Texas, Republican Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell announced that new bench appointments should be obstructed until the American people elect a new president. That statement was a subtle invocation of something called the Thurmond Rule, which is really just one guy's idea and not a rule at all.

Senators Ted Cruz and Marco Rubio, who are both running for president this year, made early appeals to some kind of longstanding de facto rule holding that presidents don't appoint justices during election years, but that idea has largely been debunked. Sure, it's pretty late in Obama's presidency for a fresh Supreme Court appointment, but there is still no actual precedent to support such a hard-and-fast rule, and there's that bit in the Constitution that says it's the president's job to appoint new Supreme Court justices. Still, with or without pretense of some kind of unwritten rule, the current Senate has made obstructionism its job, so all of this is to be expected.

In the immediate aftermath of Scalia's death, there was also talk—especially among the conservative media—about Obama taking advantage of some obscure parliamentary procedure to make a legally valid recess appointment that would bypass the Senate confirmation process. But White House spokesperson Eric Schultz has already stated that Obama won't be making any nominations until the Senate returns on February 22.

In other words, game on.

The truth is, a Republican doesn't actually have to claim to be following a rule to block a nomination in the Senate. McConnell and his allies control the upper chamber, and they can just filibuster Obama's pick for the next eleven months, or find other obstructionist techniques that prevent the nomination from going to a vote.

Assuming the Senate actually does vote, the confirmation process for Supreme Court nominees usually takes a few weeks, if everything goes very, very smoothly, and it has taken up to 99 days when it doesn't. That means that, since there's almost a full year left in Obama's term, there's still enough time for him to make at least three protracted attempts to appoint nominees. The last such knock-down-drag-out process happened during Ronald Reagan's administration, in 1987 and 1988, when Senate Democrats—not Republicans—were the obstructionists.

Initially, Reagan tried and failed to appoint a judge named Robert Bork to the Supreme Court. Bork was subjected to such a long, drawn out, politically disastrous cavity search by Senate Democrats that "to bork" is now in dictionaries as a verb, meaning "to obstruct," particularly for political reasons. Before the Senate could rip apart Reagan's second nominee, Douglas Ginsburg, he withdrew himself from consideration. Reagan finally appointed centrist Anthony Kennedy, and Kennedy was confirmed in the final year of the Gipper's administration.

Early guesses about who Obama might appoint have mostly been middle-of-the-road liberals. One early frontrunner appears to be Srikanth Srinivasan, a judge on the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals. According to The New York Times' list of likely Obama nominees, Srinivasan is "seen as a moderate and a well-qualified up-and-comer, giving Republicans less justification to block him." The rest was mostly moderate federal judges like Paul Watford, a one-time favorite pick of SCOTUS Blog author Tom Goldstein.

But some boring centrist isn't necessarily the cleverest move for a Machiavelli-like Obama to make. Lee Epstein, a law professor and expert on judges, told Emily Bazelon of the New York Times Magazine, that one good strategy for Obama might be to focus less on middle-of-the-road picks and instead find someone exciting that Democrats can "really whip up support for." A popular figure from a swing state, or someone connected to an important issue that energizes people could potentially, "make the Republicans nervous about the consequences if they won't bring up for a vote," Epstein said.

Tom Goldstein of SCOTUS Blog now favors another candidate for Obama to nominate to the bench: US Attorney General Loretta Lynch. If she were the nominee, it could work out well for Democrats, since analysts seem to think she has a good chance of slipping through the Senate's defensive line. She's historically tough on crime, making her hard to assail as excessively liberal, and on top of that, she's already been vetted by the Senate for her appointment as the attorney general. If confirmed, she would be the first black woman on the Supreme Court; plus she's a Protestant at a time when the Supreme Court doesn't have any Protestants.

If a Lynch nomination failed, that might also work out well for Obama's political party. According to Goldstein, her nomination could get transparently obstructed—a bad look for Republicans—or she might be subjected to a savage borking. "Either eventuality would motivate both black and women voters," Goldstein wrote.

Follow Mike Pearl on Twitter.

Cops on the job in New York City in 2011, when stop and frisk by the NYPD was at its peak. Photo via Flickr user vincent desjardins

Back in September, the New York City Police Department officially started giving people receipts when they stopped and frisked them. The procedure was designed to prevent dubious searches, increase officer accountability, and help repair the relationship between cops and minority communities. But according to a report filed in New York federal court on Tuesday, the cops charged with issuing those receipts rarely do so—and are often unable to explain why they stop people in the first place.

If you've never personally experienced it, stop and frisk is a controversial practice based on the "broken windows" theory of policing, which holds that the way to prevent major crimes is by cracking down on minor ones. In this case, that means hitting people up in rough neighborhoods to check them for guns or drugs. After stop and frisk was deemed unconstitutional by a federal judge in 2013 for disproportionately targeting people of color, an outside monitor was brought in to audit the NYPD. This latest report is monitor Peter Zimroth's second so far, and it shows that even as the use of stop and frisk has declined massively since peaking five years ago, officers can't or won't explain why they hassle people on the street.

"It is apparent from focus group sessions and discussions with individual officers throughout the ranks that many police officers, including supervisors, are not well informed as yet about the changes underway or the reasons for them and, therefore, have yet to internalize them," the monitor wrote. "Many appear not to understand what is expected of them."

Recorded stop and frisks reached their height of 685,724 in 2011. Last year, the total was down to about 24,000, but skeptics say that this is the result of confusion and underreporting—not a real change in how New York cops interact with blacks and Latinos.

Joseph Giacalone, a former NYPD detective sergeant and professor at John Jay College of Criminal Justice in Manhattan, remembers being on the force when officers were first required to check a box explaining stops in 2011. He says that was a huge burden on cops, who previously could offer a narrative explanation of the incident, and that as a desk sergeant, he used to "kick all the time."

"It didn't take much to think that officers would stop doing them altogether," Giacalone explains. "These forms and the procedure are toxic to officers and their careers. I think this generation of cops will abandon it altogether, if not already, especially if the department comes down on officers and supervisors for administrative mistakes."

Of course, cops neglecting to report the searches they conduct would obscure the problem of stop and frisk rather than solve it. That worries advocacy groups like Communities United For Police Reform (CPR), a representative of which said in a statement Tuesday that "there are serious concerns about the continued unconstitutionality of many stops taking place that are and are not reported."

In his report, Zimroth encouraged police supervisors, such as sergeants, to play a more active role in making sure the reports are filled out correctly—and more often. But Giacalone thinks even many police officials are out of touch with the reality of policing in 21st century America.

"You can tell them as many times as you want, include it in mandatory training, but it shows you that even those in the highest ranks don't understand the cop culture," the former police sergeant says. "It's been so long since those in charge have actually been a part of it, that they have forgotten what it feels like to be left out in the open. When the rank and file feel like the politicians don't have their backs and they have become political pawns, their performance suffers, just like any other profession."

Giacalone's comments echo those made by then-Mayor Michael Bloomberg, who said at the time of the 2013 ruling that the judge did not "understand how policing works." Yet for all the squabbling over whether the people making the rules understand what it's like to be a beat cop, it remains unclear whether stop and frisk has any effect on crime whatsoever.

"It seems that this is a form of either passive resistance or passive aggressive behavior by the police," Jeffrey Fagan, an expert on policing at Columbia University Law School who was cited more than any other person in the 2013 court ruling, said in an email. "I think they know perfectly well what policy requires regarding reporting."

Follow Allie Conti on Twitter.

I'm sitting at the wheel of a McLaren Le Mans GT car, just about to exit the pit lane. It's a couple hours before the start of 24 Hours of Daytona, a legendary endurance race that runs for, you guessed it, 24 hours.

Every driver is taking part in a qualifying session—the faster your lap time, the higher your starting position on the grid. But it takes an incredible amount of concentration to complete even a single lap without losing control of the car. Every time I try to cut into a corner, the steering jolts in my hands as the car bumps over trackside curbs. I'm constantly struggling to keep control of my vehicle. After just under two minutes of white-knuckled driving, I clock a time good enough to place me in the top ten for the race proper.

But I can go faster. I begin another lap, eager to improve on my time, and my screen goes black. My computer's power supply is fried. There's an hour to go before the daylong Daytona ordeal begins, but the race is already over for me and my co-driver (after all, one man can't race for 24 hours alone).

Naturally, I wasn't competing in the real 24 Hours of Daytona—the whole screen snapping into silence thing might just have been the giveaway. The actual Daytona ran on January 30 and 31, with Pipo Derani leading the Ligier-HPD Honda home in first place after 736 laps at an average speed of almost 110 miles per hour. I was experiencing the event—or, at least, the build up to it—on iRacing, a racing simulator regarded as one of the most realistic available, at the forefront of a virtual racing community that's edging into the eSports picture.

The iRacing Daytona attracted over 500 teams and 2,000 drivers, split between 15 lobbies arranged by skill level. I might have been putting in some intense practice, but even at my best, my team and I were still rock bottom in the lowest-ranked lobby available.

That's no surprise, though—the top iRacing lobbies are strictly for professionals, and I do mean that literally. Alongside drivers who've only ever raced from the comfort of their homes, with an HD screen and expensive wheel for company, several competitors with plenty of real-life experience are getting involved in the simulations. NASCAR driver Timmy Hill won the Nationwide Series Rookie of the Year in 2011, and he is regularly involved in iRacing events. So too is Mitchell DeJong, an X Games gold medallist in rallycross.

DeJong and his team, VRS Coanda Simsport, dominated the top Daytona race and ultimately took the win. If anything, DeJong spends more time racing in iRacing than he does in Global Rallycross, a series that he was the champion of in 2014.

"Besides testing on the day of a race, the only other driving I get to do is in the simulator," DeJong tells me. "How I look at it myself is that the physics of the car in iRacing are really similar to the real thing—you just don't have that same seat of the pants feel that you get in real life. You have to kind of use your other resources, like what you see, and the sounds of the car to compensate."

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With the level of competition raised to the level of pro-drivers, it's not as if you can just jump into an iRacing lobby and get stuck right into a race. Especially when it comes to endurance events, the amount of preparation work involved is enormous. Even in the bottom tier, my team spent a couple hours every day for a week leading up to Daytona. You have to figure out transmission, suspension, and aerodynamic settings that fit not only your driving style but also those of everyone else on your team. Setting up the car is complicated—go for something forgiving for a newcomer, making the drive easier, and you'll also be running slow. Setting up a car to be snappy and tight can lead to it being impossible to drive—unless you've put in some serious hours of practice, expect to crash, and crash, and crash again. Quite possibly for 24 hours straight.

Tuning is a long and arduous process, and it doesn't get more complicated in sim terms than it does in iRacing. The game's screens are a dancing orgy of numbers, on which you can change the very slightest details, from spring rates to compression ratios on the dampers. And no, I have no idea what that actually means, either.

"It's quite a lot of work," DeJong says. "Lots of people spend a lot of time preparing for these races, and you have to absolutely be perfect."

Because the game can be so difficult to understand, and the equipment to play it can be quite pricey—an "entry level" racing wheel costs around $100, while top end ones can cost upwards of $1,000—the level of competition is fierce. And that means DeJong has to be as on his game in the simulator as he is when racing for real. Such high standards are seeing competitive simulator racing creep into the eSports market, with iRacing at the very center of its drive.

Just like well-known eSports games like League of Legends and Counter-Strike, top-tier iRacing events are broadcast to a growing global audience via the internet, and sometimes even on regular television channels, like the pan-European Motors TV.

Wil Vincent is the co-founder of Racespot, one of the biggest broadcasters of iRacing. He's been commentating on races for two years now, and one of the most striking things about iRacing broadcasts is that they're almost exactly like the real-life equivalent. With live timing, screen overlays, comments on driver records, and even commercial breaks, the only real difference is that the racing is virtual.

The realistic broadcast style is unique to to sim racing, but it also highlights why iRacing might lag behind other eSports when it comes to breaking into the mainstream and bringing in big money. "You can't have League of Legends' products or DOTA's products in real life," Vincent tells me. "I can't go to a football stadium and actually watch people doing real-life League of Legends. But I can buy a ticket and go to a speedway, or a club race, or Formula One."

Vincent thinks that eSports needs to become mainstream enough to live on "regular" television before enough people will accept watching a virtual race rather than—or at least as well as—a real one. So while he's confident that eSports will be widely broadcast on mainstream sports television within the next five years, he believes that sim racing is about another ten years away from the same status.

Right now, though, it isn't as if sim racing is a tiny spectator sport by any means. Racespot has about 10,000 core viewers according to Vincent. That same number of people tuned in to watch the virtual 24 Hours of Daytona. In some of iRacing's other events, like its version of the IndyCar Series, Vincent says that a higher number of people are watching Racespot's broadcasts than are actually attending some IndyCar races in real life.

For everyone involved, though, the hope is that iRacing will make it big in eSports. Vincent believes that in five years he could be commentating on virtual iRacing races full time. And while DeJong is a real-world champion in the Global Rallycross Lites, he has high hopes for iRacing's future, especially with how much time he spends playing the game. After winning the 24 Hours of Daytona with his team of four other drivers, he went on to win the 8 Hours of Sebring on the same weekend. "If it becomes as big as some of these other games, I think that would be incredible for a lot of people who don't get the opportunity to race in real life," he concludes.

It's lack of opportunity—that's the reason for iRacing to exist at all. Racing for real is highly expensive, not to mention dangerous, so for the Average Joe to get close to the action, sim racing is the easiest option available. It's certainly the closest I'll ever get to racing around in a sports car costing the better part of half a million dollars. Even DeJong only gets that "seat of the pants feel" on race weekends, making iRacing another place, or space, where he gets a shot at being in the spotlight. And if it can thrill him, having done it all with his own body on the line, imagine what it'll do for you.

Follow Salmaan on Twitter.

Heaven Is Closer Than You Think is a self-published zine compiled from a selection of pictures I shot while in the Greek Cyclades last summer. I embarked on the trip with one of my most familiar subjects, my partner Evan, days after we were married. While traveling together, I set out to continue shooting pictures that embodied the ongoing themes in my work: escapism, romance, and maintaining a balance between the real and imaginary.

The Cyclades are steeped in mysticism, from the traces of Greek mythology that seep into the culture, to the saturated emerald of the Mediterranean Sea. We began in Santorini­, an island that is widely speculated to be the inspiration behind the myth of Atlantis. We continued to Milos, home to the Venus de Milo, the legendary statue depicting Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of beauty and love.

In the style of male photographers like Harry Callahan, who photographed their wives as their muses, I revealed a specific portrait of intimacy: the discovery of oneself through their partner. Using Evan, myself, and the landscape as subjects, I was capturing intimacy in its purest, most intoxicating form. By subverting the roles of subject and viewer, I was recognizing the way that how we see one another shapes the other person. I was also guided by this quote from photographer Emmet Gowin:

"If you set out to make pictures about love, it can't be done. But you can make pictures, and you can be in love. In that way, people sense the authenticity of what you do."

All photographs by Amy Harrity. You can follow her work here.

Little video doing the rounds of Paul McCartney of The Beatles being turned away at the door of Tyga's Grammys afterparty. (The club says it was all a mixup, but come on, that is a video of a very famous man being denied entry to a place he wants to go inside.) It's a TMZ video, so just know that before you watch it, and I'm going to be honest: I hate the cameraman responsible for it with my life. I want this fool to go to prison for his commentary. This man needs to be sent back to school and taught how to communicate with humans again. You are a parody of a human, unknown cameraman, you are possibly the worst man currently alive, and I include despots in that list, I always include despots:

We will get to Paul McCartney anon.

—you just, it's just: you know the cameraman responsible for this had three thoughts going on in a loop in his head while this was filming, and they were:

i. "I am definitely going to be able to sell this video to TMZ, so I should mentally start spending the money now. I am going to spend this money on new wheels for my car. I am absolutely not going to spend this money wisely, at all."

ii. "This question about the Rolling Stones is very funny and original and Paul McCartney has never heard this question before. I am a good and funny person and I definitely should not be shot in the head until I am killed."

iii. "This video is going to go viral, and as a result of that I should be as obnoxious as it is possible to be out loud. I should sound like an alien making an impression of human bewilderment. I should sound as much as possible like the kind of person who, instead of laughing, actually says 'LMAO.' Because that is who I am. That is the person I was born to be."

But hey! We're here to have fun today! At Paul McCartney's expense!

Read on Noisey: An Interview with Paul McCartney About His Emojis

Paul McCartney is a one thousand-year-old man with a successful line of vegetarian sausages and was also in a band once called The Beatles. He did some solo work, too, and the Frog Chorus, and now he has spent the last ten or so years pushing the very fucking limit of acceptable men's hairstyles and clapping slightly out of time in various activism videos that seem like a really good idea at the time but actually, as it turns out, were not a very good idea at all. Like, look:

The desperation, the urgency, of the words, "You can do it right now please." Look into those eyes and tell me that is a man not held captive by fame, a prisoner just needing to be let out. That developing this brand of vegetarian anti-patter is actually a deep howling cry for help. Please, Christ, please. Please pledge not to eat meat on Mondays. Please, please. Paul McCartney is dying in there. He needs this.

But so to the nightclub, where Paul McCartney is turned away, the moment Paul McCartney finally crosses over and touches his fingertips through the void and becomes—even if only briefly, even for a moment—human, in the same way that you are human, in the same way as me. Paul McCartney is made of the same blood and bones and flesh as all of us, he's just better at making music and having the same sad, tired eyelids of a dying dog that we are, and that makes him an icon. But when he gets turned away from Tyga's party with Beck and the drummer out of the Foo Fighters, he is saying: I know your struggles. He is saying: I am one of you. I have always been one of you.

Read on NOISEY: The Grammys Sucked—Is Pop Music Stuck in Neutral?

We have all been turned away from a nightclub. Anyone who has not been asked to leave a nightclub hasn't lived. Anyone who has not walked away from a nightclub calling a bouncer a "prick"—not loud enough that the bouncer will hear you and do a little tight-trousered bouncer run at you and attack you from behind and break the vertebrae in your neck, but loud enough to make you feel good, to make a point, maybe you will kick an errant Coke can while you say "prick" to disguise the word but not the sentiment—anyone who has not done that has not, in my opinion, taken advantage of their whirl around the sun.

You might say: this is an embarrassing moment in Paul McCartney's life, documented and filed in the library of the internet for the ages. When we Google Paul McCartney in a thousand years' time, will we remember his work with The Beatles, his activism, his solo work? Probably not. We'll remember that time he, a 73-year-old man who really doesn't need to impress anyone anymore, got turned away from a Grammy party hosted by—of all the people in the world to host Grammy parties to get turned away from—Tyga, while some TMZ douche flatly says, "They won't let you in? What!" That this is his legacy, and it is an unfair one.

But in a way, McCartney's folly is a message of hope, a message of solidarity with a youth he is spiraling ever further away from. Even Paul McCartney can get turned away from a nightclub. Bear that in mind next time a bouncer looks at your shoes, ushers a few lads in trainers in past you, then tells you the place is full. Next time a bouncer has you and the girls shivering in the cold for an hour just to tell you there's a private party tonight and the cover fee has trebled. You are Paul McCartney, and Paul McCartney is you. You haven't failed, you haven't faltered. Paul McCartney can't even get into a party hosted by Tyga. It's the system that is broken, not you. All bouncers are bastards, and even professional vegetable-liker and knight of the realm Paul McCartney isn't safe from them. Every time you get turned away from an ID-only Wetherspoons, you are one step closer to becoming an icon.

Follow Joel Golby on Twitter.

The author and his baby, signing off.

Sup, y'all. I regret to inform you that this is my last installment of Yeah Baby. Sorry, no disrespect, but baby blogs are weak. They're corny as fuck. Who even reads them? I know I don't. If you have seriously been coming here for parenting advice you're sus as hell. Just live your life, man. Ain't no big mystery. You don't need nobody to hold your hand and walk you through it. It's simple as fuck, mane: feed it, change it, pinch its lil cheeks. YOU need ME to tell YOU how to raise YOUR kid? You must be trippin'. I don't even know you or your kid, and frankly how you raise lil homie is none of my business.

Like I told y'all right off the bat, I only did this column for the money, and now that I live in Mexico where median rent is like 20 bucks it's kinda like, the fuck I need to be writing this shit for?

Look, nobody knows how to raise your kid better than you. They're literally made out of you. You don't need some other fool you never met making you second guess your innate, inborn, natural parental instincts. People been having babies for like two hundred million years. It's like the main thing we do as an animal species. Matter fact it's pretty much like the only thing we do, aside from collectively building our robot replacements.

Parenting as a literary genre and general marketing concept is really just the needless compartmentalization and commodification of knowledges that are otherwise naturally apprehended through hella various facets of cultural experience, my g. You don't need to be a parenting expert—there's no such thing anyway—you just need to be a parent. See what I did there? It's folksy truisms like that that had the readers eating out of my hand. That's the whole game right there.

Contrary to what some of those parenting gurus out there might have you believing, it ain't rocket science. There are no rules to raising a kid, and the people trying to explain the rules to you are either just trying to make money (like your boy been) or else just boring squares, half of them with no concept of what reality is, let alone what it could be, let alone how to help a child kick it in and build these realities. They're solely operating on how they've been told reality should be, and that, brother, is neither lit nor wavy.

Parenting as a literary genre and general marketing concept is really just the needless compartmentalization and commodification of knowledges that are otherwise naturally apprehended through hella various facets of cultural experience, my g.

All that being said, I ain't gonna lie, I was a pretty tight parenting columnist. I was hella real at this. I gave it to you from the horse's mouth, bruh, you must admit. I was spitting fire darts and gems. I ain't hold back, I gave it to you straight, no chaser. I had hella fire bars on here. Man, we had some fun, didn't we? Good times. I dropped some real crystal diamond gemstones. If you ever find yourself missing my literary style, go check out my horoscopes on Paper Magazine. Horoscopes are the O.G. mommy blog.

Now, I know what you're thinking, and don't worry, I'll eventually compile all these 'Yeah Baby' columns into a slim lil book for all y'all hipster new parents to put on y'all's salvaged antique coffee tables in Billyburg, Portlandia, Oaklandia, Silver Lake, etc. Most likely coming out next year on Sorry House, cop that.

But more importantly—and I'm glad you brought up Sorry House, because that segues hella well into what I was about to say—I got a novel coming out on Sorry House. I already wrote it the one time but my wife ain't like it so I've been writing it over again since December. I'm on chapter like 94 out of 100. Should be done soon and out later this year. I like it better than the last one, I think. And I got a lil art book coming out before that so keep your eyes peeled. Anyway, in the meantime, to hold you over, you can listen to the soundtrack to the novel, this 100-song album I just put out (digital only, pay-what-you-want).

Oh, plus I just dropped a new video. It's flames, check that out.

And you can find the other videos off that 100 song album here here and here.

As you can plainly see, it's nonstop fuckin' hits from the kid.

Got some other lil music projects poppin' off soon, and I'm sure you'll read all about them on, say, VICE and elsewhere, but be sure to follow your boy @veeveeveeveevee on Twitter and IG. Also follow my wife @cultdays and peruse her haute bb couture line @kool_days and cop some rare gear for a bb in your life.

So I mean, like, yeah, peace. It's been real, guys. Good luck, break a leg, ciao, arrivederci, mashallah as salaam alaikum, mazeltov, Jah Rastafari, turn up, do your thing, have fun, much love. Babalu. Ave Maria, Chango.

Follow Kool AD on Twitter.

Louis Marinelli. Photo Courtesy of Louis Marinelli

You've heard this before: If California were suddenly its own country, its $2.3 trillion GDP would make it the eighth biggest economy in the world—just below Brazil and above Italy. Well, now a political party gunning for legitimacy in California has turned that hypothetical into its entire political platform.

"Our dream is to have California become its own country separate from the United States," said Louis Marinelli, one of the founders of the California National Party who is currently campaigning to be a representative for California's 80th State Assembly district, which includes much of San Diego. "We think the country system is broken, and we don't feel that our future is best if we remain in that system."

The name of the party is "inspired by the Scottish National Party," Marinelli told VICE in an interview, referring to the dominant political party in Scotland. "We would like to follow their footsteps," he added. The California party is an offshoot of a campaign called Yes California, a nod to Yes Scotland, the unsuccessful campaign in support of a "Yes" vote in the 2014 Scottish independence referendum.

The Scottish National Party (SNP)—unlike many nationalist groups, including its far-right British counterpart, the BNP—has a mostly leftist, though still fairly mainstream, ideology. However, Marinelli, who refers to himself as a "quasi-democrat who happens to support independence," has no such ideological agenda. "If you think California has what it takes to be an independent country, and that we should do that," he said, "welcome to the party."

California has made overtures toward officially recognizing the CNP. Last month, California Secretary of State Alex Padilla asked all of the state's counties to monitor the number of CNP registrations, although because that data hasn't come in yet, the party's actual popularity is still unknown. Sam Manhood, a spokesperson for the California Secretary of State, told VICE in an email that the CNP is still without the full privileges of a political party, and as such, is "not qualified to participate in the June 7, 2016 presidential primary election."

The process of earning recognition as a party involves establishing a platform and endorsing bills in Sacramento in order to "make friends," Mike Ross, a career lobbyist who works as CNP's political strategist and legislative liaison, told VICE. As Ross tells it, the creation of a new political party is routine: "You show up and testify. You talk to some legislators and that's it," he said. The CNP, he added, is "just wading into the shallow end of the pool."

As for the party's funding, there isn't much yet, according to Theo Slater, general counsel for the CNP. "We have not had many expenses so far, but we have begun to do some targeted spending." Slater said in an email. He added: "We have some basic infrastructure such as banners and signs."

Marinelli's ambitions as an assemblyman are relatively modest. In fact, he says people have the wrong idea about him and his separatist cause. "They say, 'You're gonna go to Sacramento and you're gonna declare independence!' But that's not the way it legally works," he explained.

Separatist views aside, Marinelli is just a 29-year-old moderate liberal from Buffalo, New York, who says he used to be "the conservative poster boy American patriotic citizen." Since he's not a native Californian, he considers himself an immigrant to the state, and professes a love for the diversity of cultures and languages in his adopted home. His pet issue is criminal justice reform, and he says as an assemblyman he would "go to Sacramento and take on police unions."

Marinelli is confident that his separatist cause will have allies in the remaining 49 states, and he says his previous background as a Fox News viewer gives him some insight. "If you look at public opinion of California, it's the least liked and respected state in the country." Congress, he explained, has 54 representatives and two senators pushing the agenda of Californians, a group that he feels is culturally and ideologically distinct from the United States.

"A lot of Americans would be willing to allow California to leave the country, and I don't think it would hurt them altogether, because it would make the country more governable," Marinelli said.

Follow Mike Pearl on Twitter.

Photos courtesy of Francois Pesant

This article was originally published on VICE Mexico

In 2012, while working on an article about American female veterans, Canadian photojournalist François Pesant found out that several of his interviewees had been raped by their male counterparts while on duty.

Since then, Pesant and journalist Alexandra Geneste have been investigating the issue, collecting the testimonies of rape victims and relatives of soldiers who committed suicide after being raped. Eleven of those cases have been compiled into a book called An Enemy Within. I got in touch with Pesant to talk about this project.

VICE: When did you start working on An Enemy Within?
François Pesant: I started in January 2012, when I moved to New York from Montreal—my home town. I was working on a story on the experience of female war veterans returning to the civilian life after the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Two out of the four women I met told me they had been raped in Iraq, without me even asking. I was a total stranger to the subject and I was deeply shocked.

I did some research and found a Pentagon report that listed 19,000 rape cases that had occurred in just the previous year. So, I decided to talk it out with my editor and change the story's focus. That story was published in Canada, in June 2012. Then, I went back to the topic because I felt it required further investigation and started working with Alexandra, who is also a journalist.

What has been the the main challenge you've faced while working on the subject?
Listening to all those stories. The absence of justice has as huge an impact on the victims as the actual rape has. The first case in the book deals with a father whose daughter committed suicide after being raped. This shows that sexual violence not only affects the victim, but also their environment. Another case is that of a victim who got pregnant by her rapist but couldn't get an abortion. She talks about the relationship with the daughter she conceived through rape.

Did all rapes take place in Iraq and Afghanistan?
They took place all over the world. Some of the victims did not go to war. One of them was raped during her training. Another, in a military base in Portugal. Someone else was abused in a military base in the US.

Also, some victims are men. The book includes three testimonials from men who were raped by other men. It is very difficult to find men willing to talk about that kind of experience.

Have any of the cases you've dealt with been taken to court?
One of the offenders spent some months in jail. Then there was another case, where the assailant was taken to court but all the evidence disappeared during the trial; the rape kit the victim had delivered was gone. To top it all, the offender was promoted in the process; I think it was to the rank of sergeant.

Every year sees about 25,000 rapes within the US military but only 3,000 are reported. Out of those, only 300 go to court. (Editor's note: More accurate numbers on sexual assault in the military can be found here.)

How has the US military responded to your project?
We've tried to speak with them but they wouldn't help us, as you can imagine. In the US army, in times of war, the major is in charge of administrating justice. If you are raped you have to report it to a major first and they must decide whether you should go to court or go back to work or get fired.

Total impunity is what damages the victims most. Being raped is dreadful but getting some kind of justice helps you feel in control and move on. What actually happens is that many of the victims end up getting fired.

How did you and Alexandra start working together?
When I moved to New York, she was Le Monde's correspondent in the UN. She had already worked with soldiers and helped me get some contacts. Even though we've been working on this project for three years, sometimes we'll spend months without finding a single case to work on because there is no official list of rape cases.

At some point, I went on a four month-long road trip. We had no money so I started a Kickstarter campaign to get some. She would do the preliminary interviews on the phone and write a report of each story afterward. Then, I would travel to meet the interviewees and spend three to five days with each, do a full interview, take photos, and send the material to Alexandra, who would put everything together. Each story has been written in the first person.

Does your work focus on women?
Yes, it does. I have also worked projects about women in Canada and in India. When I got started with photography, my main topics were related to human rights and the environment. Subjects that have to do with women inevitably kept coming up.

Interview by Xitlalitl Rodríguez Mendoza

You can see more of François Pesant's work on his website.

Photo by Romain Gonzalez

This post originally appeared on VICE France.

They had planned to finish the show they started on November 13, 2015, and that's what they did. Just some hours after his controversial statement about gun control, Jesse Hughes took the stage, this time with his buddy Josh Homme—who was lucky enough not to be there when Eagles of Death Metal and the crowd were attacked inside the Bataclan, just three months before.

The Olympia, one of the biggest concert halls in Paris, expected around 2,000 people on Tuesday night, including 900 "survivors" who had been present during that horrific evening in November. Suffice to say, cops were everywhere, streets were closed, and five security checks had been put in place in front of the auditorium. As could be expected, the place was crawling with journalists.

Photo by Jean Barrère

The night was cold, and people looked tense—understandable, given the situation. For some, it was a unique opportunity to attempt to heal their injuries, particularly those that weren't physical. For others, the gig represented a chance to rise up and shout their contempt of the Islamic State and its wish to destroy the "decadent culture" of the West. But for everyone there, the most important thing was simply to have a drink, listen to some tunes they knew by heart, and enjoy some quality time—even if fear and anxiety were in the air.

I spoke to some audience members at the end of the show in order to try to understand how they felt about the show, and what the atmosphere inside the Olympia on that very particular night had been like.

Related: Watch 'Eagles of Death Metal Discuss Paris Terror Attacks'

Julien, 34, left the show after one hour
"I couldn't take it much longer, it was too difficult. My girlfriend comforted me all day long, she accompanied me in the subway before the gig—but being alone inside was really hard for my nerves. On November 13, I was in the Bataclan with a very close friend, who refused to come tonight.

"When I entered the hall, something struck me: everyone was behaving like it was a random gig. People were laughing at the bar, having beers, some girls were taking selfies. But after a moment, some details appeared clearly. Tons of journalists were there. I saw some people crying just before the show started. When the band stopped playing during the first song in order to honor the victims, people around me were really shaken up.

"I can't say I loved that show, because I wasn't even able to listen. My mind was drifting. Now, I just want to go home and to have some time with my girlfriend."

Photo by Jean Barrère

Jeff, 42
"I'm just here because I felt I needed to be here. I bought my ticket because I love rock'n'roll, I love EODM, and I definitely wanted to see them.

"I wasn't there in November because I took a week off to go in Normandy with my wife—when I discovered that the band was playing in Paris, I was disappointed. With some perspective, I realized how lucky I've been. Can you imagine that? Being alive because of some holiday with your wife? That's impossible to explain, that's even absurd, but you have to deal with it. Life is unfair. Kids died and I'm still alive."

It was the most stirring concert of my life and one of the saddest moments of my existence.

Naomi, 37
"I can't find any words to describe what I felt during that gig. I'll never forget it. I went with friends; some were there on November 13, others were not. Personally, I wasn't, but I was having a beer with some friends in the 11^th arrondissement. It could have been me that night, you know...

"It was hard not to cry. I tried to resist again and again, but when Jesse Hughes showed us his new blue-white-red guitar, it was too much to take. And they played Brown Sugar! I love that song. I had to react, and tears were my reaction. It was the most stirring concert of my life and one of the saddest moments of my existence."

Photo by Jean Barrère

Marine, 28
"I wasn't present on November 13, but I felt like it was my duty to be there tonight, to sing, to show my support. I know some people could criticize me because I "stole" a seat from some hardcore fans, but I don't care.

"The beginning of the show was incredible. Seeing the band coming on stage with that specific French song—"Il est cinq heures, Paris s'éveille"—was something hard to describe. It was madness. That tune represents everything I love about Paris—people, places, an atmosphere. Maybe it was strange, because the crowd wanted to have fun, to pretend nothing had happened, even if everybody knew something terrible hit Paris three months ago. You could say it's hypocrisy, catharsis, or "je ne sais quoi." No one gave a damn about that.

"I must admit I looked for the emergency exits before the show began. But it's only human: after that kind of trauma, you can't act normal. As I said, I wasn't there on November 13, but I live in Paris, I'm French, and I've been attacked too—I still can't accept it."

I must admit I looked for the emergency exits before the show began. But it's only human.

Bruno, 47
"I was there on November 13. I managed to escape when the terrorists entered the Bataclan. I was so lucky that night, you know. I still feel guilty, especially when I see all the faces of people who've been killed.

Tonight, it was a chance for me to forget, to enjoy a beautiful gig with one of my favorite bands. I loved how they performed, I loved the entrance, I loved the fact that Homme was there. Maybe that was the most moving moment, when I discovered that he was going to perform with the Eagles.

"I know that lots of people are talking about Hughes, his pro-gun ideology and so on. But they are a rock band! He destroyed a guitar on stage, he doesn't need to be like French people want him to be. We defend freedom of speech when it serves our intention. If we want to be better than the Islamic State, we have to defend liberty, that's all."

Photo by Jean Barrère

Follow Romain on Twitter.

Illustration by Jackie Sheridan

"He's new. Wearing a polyester number from Burton's. Looks cheap. Not like that one over there. Savile Row, he got that from, for sure."

It is 11 PM in a cellar in the bowels of King's Cross, in the center of London—specifically, the still-slightly-ropey area round the back of the station. Doug, my hairy, red-faced guide, dressed in a natty brown three-piece suit and bright purple tie, pauses for a breather. He mops the sweat from his brow with a silk handkerchief. He is visibly excited, and no wonder: Doug is a suit fetishist, and we are at City Boys, London's premier (and, it seems, only) party for men who like to cruise in a tuxedo or perfectly-pressed trousers, dress shirt, and blazer.

The venue we're in hosts a number of the capital's more offbeat special interest parties; it's something of a last bastion of sleazy London in a part of town that's been all-but gentrified in the last few years. Tonight, though, the sight of a load of mainly middle-aged men standing around and sipping bottled beer in suits makes the place look more like it's been hired out for a risk assessment conference than a fetish party.

However, the video screens dotted around the room tell a different story, beaming out movies from the suit porn studio Men At Play. As a club remix of Marc Almond's "Worship Me Now" pulses in the background, a guy in suspenders is shown having sex with a second guy in a pinstripe number.

In the gloom of the basement bar, which is divided up by black drapes hung from the ceiling to create curtained-off play areas, the sophistication of the guests' attire ranges from baggy, charity shop pleated trousers scuffed at the knees to immaculately-pressed Kilgour two-pieces with cutaway collared shirts and lush, expansive double-Windsor knotted Hermes ties. Tie and pocket square hues range from solid Square Mile blues and yellows to intricate paisley. So what is it exactly about suits that some people find such a turn on, and is it a fetish of the same order as, say, rubber or latex appreciation?

Jamie McDonald, who mans the cloakroom tonight and has worked at the club for five years, says that suit fetish is much more subtle.

"Ideas of a fetish are something out of the ordinary and 'kinky,' yet something as mundane as a suit, or feet, even fingers, for some, can be a fetish. I wouldn't necessarily call it subversive if someone wants to look smart and enjoy a natural pleasure."

And yet, presumably there is more to it than that. Anyone hoping to join the US website suitandtiefetish.com is faced with nearly 40 questions about their suit-related kinks, ranging from the relatively innocuous "Do you like silky suit coat linings, vest, and waistcoat backings?" to the more telling "Is looking at men in suits in catalogues and on the internet like looking at porn to you?" to the downright explicit "Do you cum on suit clothing?" and "Are you into suit bondage?"

Certainly, many of the men I speak to at City Boys are extremely particular about the cut and feel of their own suits, and those of the guys they seek to interact with in the club's darker corners. I ask Jamie how many of the regulars are hardcore suit and tie fetishists as opposed to dabblers just looking for a bit of action.

"About 95 percent are serious," he says. "As well as just enjoying wearing suits, they also enjoy quality materials; not just in suits, but in the shirts, ties, cufflinks, handkerchiefs, socks."

And do they find high-quality designer clobber more erotic than, say, something cheap and shiny?

"Definitely. Some of the guys have commented about the low quality suits on some 'newbies.'"

One of the striking things about the club is how formal—almost "straight"—it looks in comparison with other fetish parties I've been to. Until, that is, you explore some of the darker corners where all sorts of things are going on. Does that add to the excitement?

"That is an element which has been there since the beginning... and has appealed to guys, to cruise, flirt and take it further, should they choose."

Tom, the club's promoter, has more to say on what makes suits so appealing.

"I think the turn on is because it is not a typical gay fetish like leather or rubber. There is a link to the real world. Like with sportswear, you can wear it in your daily life and nobody would even think that it is a fetish or you get turned on wearing it. It's also about masculinity. For me, a guy in a suit looks very manly. Also, power and dominance plays a part within the suit fetish. There seems to always be a boss and an office boy who has to work that little bit harder to please his boss."

I ask Tom what his strangest encounter at the club has been over the years.

"One night there was a gorgeous young guy here. I started talking to him and he told me that he was working at an investment bank in the city. He seemed very straightforward, and five minutes later I found myself with him in one of the darker corners of the venue. After we'd finished our business he told me he had to go because his girlfriend was waiting for him. I never saw him again, but it was one of the best encounters I ever had. I just wonder how he explained the stains on his suit to his girlfriend."

Related: Watch 'The Digital Love Industry', our documentary about how technology is changing sex as we know it.

By now it's after midnight and most of the men who aren't getting to know each other in the two dungeon areas at the back of the club are standing around, beer in hand, cautiously eyeing one another in the hope of getting some action. I take the opportunity to ask Doug where he bought his outfit.

"This? Oh, it's Primark."

But you look like the kind of guy who'd spend considerably more on looking good.

"Well, I normally do. But what I'm really into is getting pissed on while wearing a suit. So it makes no sense to spend much."

Right.

"Best night I ever had was when I met this beautiful Swedish man with a huge beard. I dared him not to go to the toilet for the whole night. Finally he pissed on me, in me suit, and it was like the heavens opening. I walked home wringing wet with a smile on my face that night, I can tell you."

As Doug stares wistfully into his pint of cider, I make my excuses and leave the denizens of City Boys to their exceptionally well-dressed play. In a city like London, where people have such varied tastes and yet so many venues that previously accommodated those tastes are being closed down, it is heartening that an event as niche as City Boys is still thriving.

Names have been changed. CITY BOYS runs the first Friday of every month at Central Station, from 7 PM to midnight.

The emojis in question

Social conservatism in Indonesia, the country with the world's largest Muslim-majority, is rising. Things took an almost comical turn last week when the messaging app LINE removed LGBT-themed emojis from its store, citing complaints from its 30 million Indonesian users. In a post on its Indonesian Facebook page, the app producer apologized to users offended by the LGBT stickers and emoticons, which included two men holding hands and two women with a heart between them.

But this is just the beginning. Ismail Cawidu, PR spokesman for the Ministry of Communications, told local media last week the government will consult with WhatsApp—used by over half of Indonesia's 255 million strong population—to remove any gay-friendly emoticons, which are available for free on the app. Ismail praised LINE for its speed in removing the "offending" images, which he said "could potentially cause public unrest."

The government's demands come after weeks of increasing hysteria, dubbed the "LGBT panic" by one Jakarta-based news blog, marking an unease between LGBT-identifying Indonesians and the wider community.

In late January, supporters of a LGBT group based on the campus of the University of Indonesia in Jakarta went public after the university and Higher Education Ministry banned the group. The Support Group and Resource Center on Sexuality Studies (SGRC) had caught the attention of higher education minister Muhammad Nasir after pamphlets advertising the group's services, such as counseling for depressed and suicidal LGBT youth, were circulated online. The minister contacted the university's leadership directly and was told the student group had not been officially sanctioned. Shortly after the University of Indonesia released a statement distancing itself from the center.

In the days that followed Minister Nasir made a string of comments to the media about SGRC, strongly asserting his ministry's position on gay rights. "LGBT is not in accordance with the values and morals of Indonesia. I forbid ," he told local news portal Detik in January.

In a January blog post, SGRC co-founder Firmansyah hit back, arguing groups such as his are important on Indonesia's campuses. "We are fully aware of the high risk involved , as evident by the rampant media attention on our organization lately," he wrote. "We created a LGBT Peer Support Network because LGBT teens in Indonesia are more prone to suicide as a result of rejection and discrimination they received from the society."

Ridwan Kamil, the mayor of West Java's capital Bandung, also weighed in on the controversy, telling his 2.5 million constituents—including a likely sizable group of LGBT citizens—that while he supports the rights of LGBT people to exist, they should be neither seen nor heard.

Mayor of West Java's capital Bandung, Ridwan Kamil. Image via

"We cannot live as freely as we want. The fact is that there are people who are "different," he said in January. "Sexual preferences should be a private matter and cannot be exposed or campaigned about publicly because there are social behaviors that are not acceptable in Indonesia."

While a handful of Indonesia's leaders have taken a stand against the frenzy—notably Jakarta governor Basuki Tjahaja Purnama who characteristically dismissed the manufactured crisis as a distraction from more pressing issues, such as the spread of HIV/AIDS—there's little hope of change in the near future.

Veronica Korman, a public interest lawyer at the Jakarta Legal Aid Institute, told VICE that while Indonesia doesn't have explicit laws banning homosexuality—as its neighbors Singapore and Malaysia do—the current laws safeguarding human rights are "too general" to protect gay Indonesians. "The current laws, the current society, and the current government elites are all failing LGBT people," said Koman.

In Aceh, Indonesia's only province which practices Sharia law, individuals found guilty of "homosexuality" can expect 100 lashes as punishment, Veronica said. In a recent case, two women were arrested in the province last September for "hugging."

Majelis Ulama Indonesia, the country's top Muslim body, issued a fatwa (a ruling on Islamic law) against non-heterosexuality in 2014, calling for the death penalty to be issued for those found in violation.

However, it's the more subtle discrimination against LGBT Indonesians, from marriage, to pornography, to adoption, to emojis, that speak to the broader entrenched homophobia in the country.

"I think we are still far, far away from having a law specifically recognizing and protecting LGBT people from discrimination," Korman said. "The LGBT community has been pushing the agenda of recognition of LGBT people to the government but it seems like it's not working."

Chika Noya of the Alliance for Sexual and Reproductive Health and Rights (SRHR) sees the failures of the law to protect Indonesia's LGBT community as another victim of the country's legal system, widely viewed as corrupt.

Noya cited a United Nations Development Program report which found the cynical belief in law enforcement and government in Indonesia may leave "many activists not confident in laws and policies that could protect LGBT people."

A Center for Strategic and International Studies poll conducted in October 2015 found National Police and the Indonesian parliament rank as the least trusted public institutions in the country. Often seen as operating outside of the law and with its own agenda, police and lawmakers face the derision of a community supportive of the Corruption Eradication Commission (KPK), the country's anti-corruption agency which routinely ranks among the most trusted, in its efforts to weed out corruption in Indonesia's government and police.

"Everything has to conform with relevant social and religious beliefs in Indonesia," Noya said. "The government always hides behind morals to cover the corruption."

Follow Erin on Twitter.

Mask– $5

This article was originally published on VICE Mexico

Last Friday, around 7:30 PM, Pope Francis landed in Mexico City's International Airport. This is the first time the Argentinian Pope has visited Mexico since he assumed office. During his week-long stay, he is expected to stop by the states of Chiapas, Michoacan, and Chihuahua.

As anticipated, the country has been busying itself to receive the Pontiff with road closure announcements, billboard ads, and stands that sell Pope memorabilia. We went out in the streets of Mexico City looking for objects that will help us remember this papal visit forever.

Scroll down for more photos.

The ninth floor of the Clara Shortridge Foltz Criminal Justice Center in downtown Los Angeles has hosted every recent marquee criminal trial in LA, from OJ Simpson to Dr. Conrad Murray of Michael Jackson fame. On Tuesday morning, the place was packed for a trip back to the crack era of the 1980s, when prosecutors say Lonnie Franklin, Jr., murdered ten women and tried to kill another.

"The evidence in this case will tell a story. A story of a serial killer who stalked the streets of South Los Angeles," said Deputy District Attorney Beth Silverman. "And that serial killer, ladies and gentlemen is the defendant, Lonnie Franklin."

Franklin is known as the 'Grim Sleeper' because he may have taken a respite from his allegedly murderous ways during the 1990s.

It's been five years since the man's arrest, and the family members of his alleged victims have been made to endure repeated delays in getting the criminal proceedings underway. On Tuesday, they took up nearly half of the courtroom, marked by special badges doled out to make sure they got a seat inside the overflowing galley.

Besides the occasional murmur or muffled exclamation from the crowd, the room was silent as Silverman described how and where each victim's body was found, along with the evidence she said linked them to Franklin. All the victims were black women between the ages of 15 and 35: Barbara Ware, Alicia Alexander, Valerie McCorvey, Henrietta Wright, Debra Jackson, Bernita Sparks, Mary Lowe, Janecia Peters, Princess Berthomieux; and the one surviving victim, Enrieta Washington.

Franklin sat motionless throughout the day, wearing a crisp, baby-blue collared shirt, a tie and glasses. He's accused of killing the women between 1985 and 2007, with the bulk of the crimes allegedly taking place in the late 80s. Silverman painted a bleak picture of South Los Angeles during this era, describing crack cocaine's impact on the community as a "lethal epidemic."

"Crack devoured those who succumbed to its seductively cheap price and powerful high," she said.

When it first emerged, crack had an even higher purity than it does today, according to Silverman. Combined with the drug's "highly addictive" nature, the impact on the community was disastrous. All but one of the Franklin's alleged victims were found to have cocaine in their system at the time of autopsy, Silverman told jurors.

Many of the victims were women who "lost their way" and sold their "bodies and souls" to get the drugs they craved, she said, suggesting Franklin took advantage of that vulnerability.

" someone who knew the streets and the dark alleys by heart," Silverman said. "Someone who lived there and was able to blend in. Someone who knew where the drug-addicted women and perhaps prostitutes would congregate."

Although the broad strokes of the case have been well-tread by media reports, the first day of trial introduced some especially searing details. For one, some of the victims were shot at such close range that the gun burned their skin or clothes.

"The evidence in this case is, and I warn you, extremely disturbing," Silverman cautioned the jury.

Check out our documentary about a serial killer who targeted black women in Cleveland.

The prosecution went deep into these details when Lisa Scheinin, a retired deputy medical examiner from the LA County Coroner's office, took the stand. As graphic pictures of victim Janecia Peters' body flashed on the projector screen, Scheinin explained how she was found naked, curled in the fetal position covered with a trash bag.

She pointed to diagrams and photographs of Peters' body and explained how a gunshot wound ripped through her back and spine. Peters' final moments would have been extraordinarily traumatic ones, Scheinin explained.

"I felt that because you have an injury to the spinal cord, she would have definitely been paralyzed below the waist," Scheinin said. "And she could easily have had trouble breathing because of spinal shock."

For his part, Franklin has pleaded not guilty to all counts, but his defense team, led by attorney Seymour Amster, declined to make an opening statement in the case. Instead, they remained silent throughout most of the day Tuesday save for the occasional objection or cross-examination, at one point suggesting Peters should have been missing more than one acrylic nail if she struggled with an attacker.

The Grim Sleeper trial is expected to last three to four months, with the bulk of the testimony revolving around forensic and DNA evidence.

Follow Hayley Fox on Twitter.

A model holds up Black Lives Matter activist MarShawn McCarrel's last tweet in the Pyer Moss NWFW show. All photos by Jonathan Gardenhire

On Saturday afternoon, designer Kerby Jean-Raymond's Pyer Moss fashion label unveiled its fall/winter 2016 "double bind" collection. Kerby presented a collection of oversized shearlings, leggings underneath matching shorts, patterned puffy overalls, and statement shirts with phrases—"You don't have any friends in LA," for example—in small, black print that disparaged the City of Angels. The Erykah Badu-styled runway presentation physically manifested its theme in the way the singer wrapped two pieces of white masking tape around the models' boots and in the parallel lines that appeared throughout the collection.

The event also continued Kerby's use of fashion as a way to highlight issues that extend beyond the runway. In an effort to spotlight depression, Jean-Raymond opened the presentation with a choir of opera signers dressed in white Pyer Moss–designed hospital gowns, who made an aria out of Future's " Trap Niggas." The models also wore hats with prescription drug labels like "Xanax" and "Oxy" pinned on them. As the choir continued to create operatic trap music, a model dressed in a matching powdered blue jacket and pants closed the show by protesting down the runway holding a white sign that read in bold, black lettering: "MY DEMONS WON TODAY IM SORRY."

The moment represented a double entendre. It evoked the sad reality that depression sometimes leads to suicide. It also represented a clear continuation of the label's spring/summer 2016 Black Lives Matter theme. The words on the sign alluded to the recent suicide of MarShawn McCarrel, the Black Lives Matter protester who shot and killed himself on the steps of the Ohio Statehouse. The scene was a chilling reminder that, for Pyer Moss, the clothes truly are about making a statement.

Below, check out backstage pictures from the fashion presentation, which includes the queen of neo-soul's debut as a fashion stylist.

- Antwaun Sargent

The author, lounging in one of the rooms. All photos by Rebecca Colquhoun

This post originally appeared on VICE Australia.

Le Boudoir is one of Melbourne, Australia's few brothels to be run entirely by women. Jill, who has been in the industry for 40 years, opened the place in 1998. She's a sharp but kind lady, in a no-bullshit way, and after a few meetings Jill invited me and my photographer friend to come spend Valentine's Day at her establishment. I had some questions that I thought only a brothel could answer.

It's often assumed women care about Valentine's and men don't. As a single bartender I usually spend the day witnessing other people's traditions rather than creating my own and honestly, from the other side of the bar, it doesn't look like I'm missing out. I don't think about Valentine's and I don't get lonely, even though I know more than a few single women who do. Having said that, I wondered about the supposed gender divide on Valentine's loneliness and decided a brothel could offer some insights. Is it true that lonely men just want to fuck? Or does Valentine's have no bearing on the sex industry at all?

From outside

10:35 PM

Le Boudoir is in the Victorian-era industrial/hipster suburb of Collingwood, snuggled between an alley and the back of a Porsche dealership.

CCTV cameras outside the front door

Past the front door we found ourselves in a public waiting room decadently furnished with two sofas and lots of gold. No one was around but I felt underdressed. Is there even a dress code for visiting a brothel? I rang the doorbell and a receptionist let us into the inner sanctum. The deal is that people can come in off the street, staff can eye them off via CCTV while they sit in the waiting room, then decide whether they're going to let them in. I wondered what kind of conversations arise while dudes hang around the waiting room.

Phones in the inner waiting room. The receptionist uses these to call the girls in the rooms when their client's time is up.

10:40 PM

Once inside we were given a brief tour by the receptionist, who was an older woman with perfect hair and a warm smile. The rooms just got better and better. There was a kind of opulent Elizabethan theme to the place, contrasted with the sound of their constantly-ringing phone and a playlist of DJ Snake and Zara Larsson. Was that "Habits" by Tove Lo? Yes it was.

It's all about silky textures

10:42 PM

The receptionist, who didn't want her name mentioned, led us to the staff room. "This is the only place you can stay because the rest of the rooms are being used," she announced, glancing at the CCTV monitor. "Wait a sec, I'll be right back." Then she left us to answer the phone outside.

Le Bourdoir has six working rooms, four upstairs and two downstairs. Then there are the two waiting rooms: one public, and one private. On the CCTV monitor we could see both but were under strict instructions not to leave the room because we'd freak out the clients. The girls would come in on their individual breaks and we'd have a chance to ask questions. Until then we'd just have to wait.

Here's what we could see on the monitors

11 PM

The monitor was fascinating. I watched as guys were admitted into the second room, where they'd meet the girls one by one until they decided who to go with. This was a time for each woman to advertise her strengths and set boundaries, if need be. As each woman introduced herself you could see her instantly get into character. Each seemed so confident and in control—from the way they walked to the way they sat down. As I watched the ghostly screen I realized it was a skill, but also an act.

Then I watched each new couple journey up the stairs, into a room, and close the door.

Doing some laundry

11:18 PM

Time was going slowly so I decided to fold some towels in a wash basket on the staff room floor. I don't even do this at home. My photographer friend Rebecca and I took turns watching the monitor.

Phoenix didn't want a photo so here's the house laundry

11:24 PM

Finally a 28-year-old woman named Phoenix came in on her break. With short blonde hair and a curvaceous figure, she explained to us that she was only working to raise cash for a business venture. She explained that she'd only been working two days but already loved the job. She also had a theory that guys are looking for more than just sex. "There's so much crap out there now with Tinder and all that, people can get a shag so easily," she said. "A quality connection is something that's really hard to come by and that's what men are looking for, even on Valentine's Day."

Adaline's shoes

11:43 PM

Twenty minutes later another woman named Adaline came into the staff room. She was easily the most excited person we heard from all night. She had a small figure, long brown hair, and I noticed how casually she lounged around on the couch. We started talking about her most memorable experiences and she regaled us with a story of a guy who barked every time he came.

Then the conversation shifted to what she'd learned at Le Boudoir. She explained the insights sex work has given her about relationships. "We hear a lot about the arguments men have with their partners," she said. "When I went home, back when I had a partner, hearing these perspectives meant I could understand where he was coming from. So working here helped me gain that perspective in my own personal love life."

It never fails to amaze me how sex workers like Adaline can maintain romantic relationships. Personally I don't think I could make that work, but I can understand how these women do. For these women there's a dissociation between sex and legitimate intimacy, which their clients could even find attractive.

The best reality TV I've ever seen

12:00 AM

It was Valentine's Day and I was surrounded by escorts, laundry, and some really interesting TV. I don't think any future partner can beat that.

Josie's back

12:25 AM

Josie, 45, told me that she'd been in the sex industry on and off for 20 years and like Phoenix, she felt that working in a brothel allowed her to ditch some of life's pretenses. "We all have these socially acceptable masks that we've been brought up to put on," she said. "Getting intimate with strangers, as we do here, means we can get behind the mask quickly."

I asked her about how she thinks Valentine's Day affects sex work, and she paused to flick her fringe out of her eyes. "It's good for people who feel left out during this Valentine's crap to come here," she said thoughtfully. "We're all vulnerable animals you know, even when it comes to love." She then told me that her last client, just five minutes earlier, wanted her to act as though they were in love. "It was weird but it was a fantasy. He was even saying that he wanted me to have his children. I mean, I like fantasies, I put effort into fulfilling them, but the thing about fantasies here is that they eventually end."

Supplies in the house showers

With that the receptionist popped in and Josie rushed out to her next client, who had just finished showering and was waiting upstairs.

Raine in pink

12:40 AM

All night I was surprised at how everyone was so positive about men. Then finally a woman with a gentle demeanor and big boobs named Raine disagreed. "Porn is too accessible," she told me, before launching into a description of how damaged her customers can be. "You can tell the men who are affected by it because they base their ideas of sex, women, and relationships on porn. They lack a certain humanity and human connection in relation to love."

The staff room coffee table by the end of the night

1:00 AM

We left after talking to Raine, followed by the stares of the guys hanging around the house. At the receptionist's desk I realized there is another monitor and a buzzer connected to phones in every room. This lets the women know when their time is running out. Our time at Le Boudoir had similarly come to an end.

1:11 AM

Valentine's Day for Le Boudoir ended up being busier than anyone expected. As I sat in the empty staff room, hearing thoughts from the girls as they came and went, I decided that maybe brothels exist for more complex reasons than I'd expected, if not sadder. Maybe Adaline summed it up best: "Guys want company and we're here to provide it," she'd told me. "The whole industry is just funded by people who are lonely."

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Heading back down the stairs to leave

Frank Zampino, former chairman of the city of Montreal executive committee, testifies before the Charbonneau Commission in Montreal in April 2013. THE CANADIAN PRESS/HO, Charbonneau Commission

Frank Zampino is finally on trial.

Unless you're a close observer of Montreal corruption scandals, you probably don't know that he's the former number two guy at Montreal City Hall. Zampino, along with seven other men and a construction company Construction Frank Catania & Associés Inc., is facing charges stemming from a 2007 real estate sale.

The charges against Zampino and his co-accused include fraud, conspiracy, and breach of trust.

Here's what we know happened: In 2007, the city sold the chunk of land, called the Faubourg Contrecoeur, to the above construction firm for $4.4-million, giving it the go-ahead to develop an 1,800-unit housing project. The land, however, was assessed by the city to be worth $31 million.

The Crown is arguing that, as chairman of the city's executive committee at the time of the sale and right-hand man to then-mayor Gérald Tremblay, Zampino was in on the scam. His co-accused include construction boss Paolo Catania and Bernard Trépanier, Tremblay's former fundraising chief. Trépanier's nickname was, according to court documents, "Mr. Three Percent," for the commission he pocketed on municipal contracts he helped award.

The trial, which will be decided by a judge alone, is the culmination of years of investigation and legal wrangling. The group was initially arrested in 2012, although Zampino and Trépanier, among others, have since been the subject of police search warrants in another case.

This is an important trial for Montreal. Its reputation took a beating when the alleged fraud made headlines, and the city has long been synonymous with municipal corruption in Canada. And while Toronto's Rob Ford got most of the press for his drug- and booze-fuelled antics, it was Montreal mayor Tremblay who resigned in disgrace because of the Charbonneau Commission's inquiry into Quebec corruption.

The big question now is, what has changed since Zampino and the rest of the players were arrested? And will the trial dredge up memories of the bad old days, memories that the city's boosters would prefer to bury?

Certainly, the long shadow of Montreal's corruption troubles still lingers at City Hall, despite a new mayor in Denis Coderre who has boisterously vowed that things will change.

In some ways, he has made good on his promise: Shortly after Coderre was elected in late 2013, he created the post of Inspector-General, who will oversee the awarding of contracts and look for cases of possible corruption.

But Coderre's opponents and critics say not nearly enough has been done to separate the new regime from the old. In fact, many councillors who were tight with Tremblay have rallied around Coderre's banner and are now part of his administration.

It's an issue that hasn't escaped opposition councillor Alex Norris.

"The same political machine is still running the show," he told VICE. While he wouldn't comment on the Zampino trial itself, and applauds the creation of the inspector-general post, Norris says that overall, things have "clearly not" gotten much better.

"Many of the faces at City Hall have not changed, and many of the people who benefitted from the corrupt campaign finance system are still there," he says. The culture of corruption "is by no means over. We cannot say that the election of Denis Coderre resulted in a clean sweep of city hall."

Norris says the Coderre administration has awarded lucrative contracts to friends and political allies, including paying a former colleague from his days as a federal Liberal cabinet member $1,800 a day for a three-month stint—total bill, $110,000—to help coordinate the settling of Syrian refugees in Montreal. And last month, it was revealed that Coderre hired a fundraiser friend to negotiate a new contract with the city's police force—at a sweet $670 per day. Other examples Norris cites include awarding a different fundraiser a $21,000 traffic consulting gig and the hiring of a campaign worker's son to work on a legal brief.

"This is the old way of doing politics," he said. "Rewarding friends and supporters with lucrative no-bid contracts."

For Harold Chorney, a political science professor at Concordia University, the Contrecoeur trial "certainly doesn't look good" for the city. Without speculating on the innocence or guilt of the accused, he does say that, when it comes to municipal corruption, "Montreal is not alone, but it is notorious."

Chorney gives Coderre more credit than Norris does. "Clearly there is a public commitment with a great deal of moral fervour in Montreal these days," he says. He thinks Coderre is more open and transparent than previous city politicos, and does want to effect real change.

Chorney has several suggestions to help Montreal shrug off its sleaze-as-usual rep, and the most important one has to do with people here caring enough to do something about it. A more engaged population, he says, with high ethical standards can eventually keep politicians reasonably honest.

But to Norris, it's still painfully clear that, "We still have a long way to go to root out corruption at City Hall."

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Tim Bosma, pictured above, was murdered in May 2013. Photo via Facebook

Tim Bosma was 32 when he was murdered in May 2013, having gone missing after taking a pickup truck he was selling on a test drive with two buyers.

Claude Jutra, pictured above, has been accused of being a pedophile in a new book. Screenshot via YouTube

Montreal mayor Denis Coderre says the city will begin the process of renaming parks and streets dedicated to Claude Jutra, a legendary Quebec filmmaker and also an alleged pedophile, according to a new book.

The claims, featured in a new biography by film critic and author Yves Lever, occupy only a small portion of the book—around five pages in total—yet have dominated headlines due to Jutra's prolific reputation as Quebec's "father of cinema."

The book details sexual encounters between Jutra and boys as young as 14 and 15—with the author alleging that, based on interviews he conducted with some of Jutra's victims, his sexual interest in children had an effect on his filmmaking. This week, more allegations surfaced after La Presse quoted a confidential source who said they were sexually assaulted by Jutra from the age of six, and that the abuse escalated over the period of a decade.

"In his films, nothing is very explicit or pornographic," Lever writes. "We simply notice the pleasure in showing beautiful adolescents, sometimes nude."

Coderre, who responded to the allegations today by announcing the city would be removing Jutra's name from various locations across Montreal, called the claims against the filmmaker "indefensible."

"I always said you can't defend the indefensible," Coderre said. "And we have to act quickly."

Québec Cinéma, the organization in charge of the Jutra Awards, named in his honour, hastily announced today that they would be renaming the award show, which is set to happen on March 20. The move follows pressure from Quebec Culture Minister Hélène David to kill the Jutra name.

"I'm very, very troubled and so sad by what I have read," David told reporters this week.

"We have to take it seriously, and given the insupportable criminal act we have to ask that the name of the Jutras be changed."

According to the CBC, the organization has not come up with a new name for the show, nor the name of the trophies themselves, but the move accompanies a similar announcement from the Academy of Canadian Cinema & Television to strike the "Claude Jutra award" from its list of awards.

"Our role is not to do an inquiry about this or organize a trial," Patrick Roy, president of Québec Cinéma, said during a news conference Wednesday afternoon. "We are just making a decision about an award today. That's all we are doing."

Jutra, who killed himself in 1986 after being diagnosed with Alzheimer's, has a legacy that carries serious weight in Quebec film. Mon oncle Antoine (1971), in particular, is regularly cited as an essential piece of Canadian filmmaking, even garnering inclusion in the Criterion Collection. His films throughout the 70s and 80s won numerous provincial and national awards, and he worked internationally with the likes of Francois Truffaut.

Arnie Gilberta, a Canadian filmmaker who knew Jutra, told CTV that it was known in the film community that Jutra was attracted to males who tended to be in their teenage years, but that, to his knowledge, they were not children.

"They weren't children, I mean they were young men, 16, 17, 18," he said.

The allegations against Jutra claim that he had relationships with both those who worked with him, and that he also had relationships with children of fellow actors.

Follow Jake Kivanc on Twitter.

Ezra, being glum. Photo via The Canadian Press

On January 29, Sheila Gunn Reid and Holly Nicholas—two contributors to The Rebel, Ezra Levant's right-wing agitprop outlet—were unceremoniously evicted from a media lockup about the Alberta government's royalty review announcements. At the time, very few people seemed to notice or care.

But this week, The Rebel announced intentions to sue the province unless it stopped barring its reporters from accessing media events. The province's lawyers responded by claiming that Ezra Levant and the people writing for The Rebel are not real journalists and so they're not entitled to access media events—which is a polite (if condescending) way of legally telling them to fuck off.

Suddenly, the NDP was in the business of determining who was and who wasn't a journalist—and therefore who could and could not get media access. Bloggers and "online news sources" were also apparently persona non grata at media functions. So much for the forthcoming BuzzFeed/VICE/Vox Alberta bureau collab on "17 Puggles Who are Totes Not Down with This Definitive Guide to the Alberta Government's Bullshit Fucking Reasons for Maintaining a Parallel, Publicly-Funded Catholic Education System (and Why This Matters)."

Anyway, it turns out that this was a really, really stupid idea by the NDP. The Rebel's entire business model is predicated on fabricating outrage against the Alberta NDP, so they were more than ready to go hog wild as soon as they actually got a legit thing to be mad about. And as far journalism-related outrages go, the State policing who gets media access is a pretty grave sin for an ostensibly liberal society.

Alberta Premier Rachel Notley, back when she was happy to let people visit the legislature. Photo via Facebook.

The backlash against the NDP was pretty swift and largely uniform. The general consensus among the Media Party (ie. mainstream shills who hate the Truth and work tirelessly to keep the Canadian sheeple asleep while radical French-Canadian Communist Muslims destroy this great country) is that an injury to one journalist—even an especially bad, obnoxious, and hateful one—is an injury to all. Loud assholes determined to bend the truth to the absolute edge of hate speech and libel are the price we pay for freedom of expression.

The government's about-face was also pretty swift. I called the premier's office this morning about whether or not a piddly online news source like VICE was a credible enough media outlet in the eyes of the NDP, and Cheryl Oates, Director of Communications, told me the following:

"We've heard a lot of feedback from Albertans and media over the course of the last two days and it's clear we made a mistake. The government has appointed former Western Canadian Bureau Chief for Canadian Press, Heather Boyd to consult and give us recommendations on what the government's media policies should be. In the meantime, no one will be excluded from government media events."

Credit where it's due: the NDP are undoing the extremely dumb thing they did. In the span of 48 hours we have apparently moved from a socialist hellhole only a few degrees removed from arresting and murdering journalists to one of the most radically liberalized and alt-media friendly jurisdictions in North America. And, ironically, we owe it all to Ezra Levant successfully mobilizing the mainstream media apparatus he hates so much to come to his defense. Hell hath no fury like the Media Party scorned.

Make no mistake: Ezra Levant is a snake. He has (unsuccessfully) defended himself from libel charges by arguing that nothing he says should be taken seriously. He doesn't give a shit about media freedom and has kicked journalists he doesn't like out of his own "public events" before. He and his contributors will do and say almost anything to push their regressive agenda (and generate those sweet, sweet pageviews). They will never engage with the NDP in good faith and everything they write about politics in Canada is guaranteed to fall somewhere between hilariously biased and recklessly wrong. Or transphobic. Or whatever—if it will piss off anyone vaguely to the left of them, they'll publish it. They are aggressively terrible journalists that contribute almost nothing of value to public discourse.

It kills me that a national conversation about "what constitutes journalism in Canada in 2016" is decided by Ezra goddamn Levant, but for fuck's sake. If it's down to giving a sliver of recognition to a shitty and hateful cabal of hacks in order to protect the gains of non-traditional media from the capricious whims of government, then—so help me God—that's what we have to do.

At least this way, we can go back to ignoring their bullshit meltdowns with impunity.

Follow Drew Brown on Twitter

On his trip this week to Mexico, Pope Francis has described the local drug cartels as "dealers of death."

The pontiff isn't exactly holding back in lambasting the corruption and pain drug violence has brought to Mexico. Residents I spoke to in the border city of Juarez, once dubbed the murder capital of the world with more than 10,000 homicides between 2008 and 2012, eagerly anticipated his visit Wednesday, embracing the tough line on the cartels even as they feared a spiritual appeal was doomed to fall short.

"We hope that he offers mercy and peace, which is essential here," said Dr. Pedro Bedolla, a dentist in downtown Juarez. "There are cartels here and cartels there, and we are in the middle. Hopefully the pope's prayers will protect us."

Bedolla says his wife's nephew was killed in the city's violence, and that he knows business owners who have been threatened with extortion. In recent years, the level of violence has dropped in Juarez, but there were more than 430 homicides in the city in 2014, roughly the same number as Chicago last year—which saw the most homicides in the United States.

Of course, Juarez has a population about half the size of Chicago's.

Last spring, city officials launched a campaign to restart tourism called "Juarez is waiting for you" to overhaul the city's image. But some residents said the violence in Juarez has ebbed in recent years only because one of the cartels—El Chapo's Sinaloa—gained the upper hand.

The pope was deliberate in including the state of Michoacán—where he visited Tuesday—and the border city of Juarez in his five-day foray to the country. These are among the places hardest hit by the drug violence. Meanwhile, nearly 40 percent of people in Juarez live in poverty, and thousands work in the maquilas, border factories where workers make an average of around $400 per month.

But after once urging Americans not to travel to Juarez, the US State Department now just advises caution. Thousands of Americans are expected to cross the border to see the pope Wednesday.

In addition to addressing poverty and policing issues, residents like Carmelo Ramirez, 37, a street merchant, think the church has to clean its own house. Some Mexican priests have reportedly taken narco alms—or donations from the drug traffickers.

"The church can't close its eyes," Ramirez told me. He, too, has a nephew who was caught in the crossfire of rival cartels and died five years ago.

Marisela Medellin, 43, who works at an optical shop, thinks the pope can help just by calling attention to the violence. "We need his blessing," she said.

She added that some businesses closed after the violence peaked several years ago, but things are trending in the right direction. "The business district is calm now," she told me.

Medellin commended the pope for speaking plainly when many government officials, including President Enrique Peña Nieto, she believes, don't address the problems head on. Suspicion of government collusion with the cartels only grew after notorious drug lord Joaquín "El Chapo" Guzmán Loera escaped from prison a second time last July. Actors Sean Penn and Kate del Castillo met with El Chapo before he was recaptured again last month, causing embarrassment to the government. (Guzmán could eventually be extradited to face trial in Brooklyn.)

"The president pretends that all is calm. But it's not. The pope speaks more forcefully," Medellin said.

Pope Francis on Saturday told priests and bishops at the cathedral in Mexico City to go to the peripheries, work with families, and connect with parish communities, schools, and the authorities. Only then "will people finally escape the raging waters that drown so many, either victims of the drug trade or those who stand before God with their hands drenched in blood, though with pockets filled with sordid money and their consciences deadened," he said.

Juarez, Mexico. Photo by the author

30-year-old Adriana Jaquez, who works in a shoe store in downtown Juarez, appreciates that message. "The pope isn't afraid. He says what he feels, and that is how it should be," she told me.

She, too, has seen the violence. Her neighbor was kidnapped, she says, and his wife killed in attempting to deliver the ransom. For her part, Jaquez has an unusual theory as to why the violence has dropped in Juarez: "They killed so many people that there were hardly any of them left to kill," she said.

But the damage from the drug war extends beyond the border region.

The death toll from drug war is more than 100,000 killed nationwide and tens of thousands disappeared. This includes the 43 students who went missing and were presumably killed in Guerrero in 2014. Human rights groups and forensic experts dispute the government's account of what happened to the students; the pope has not yet made a public comment on this case.

He also hasn't yet mentioned the word femicide.

According to the National Citizen Femicide Observatory, six women are killed daily in Mexico. But somehow only 24 percent of the roughly 4,000 femicides the group identified between 2012 and 2013 were actually investigated by authorities, it claims, with just 1.6 percent leading to sentencing.

Meanwhile, 18 journalists have been murdered in Mexico since 2008, and 36 priests have been assassinated since 2005. The day before the pope arrived in Mexico, 49 people were killed in a riot at a prison in the northern city of Monterrey. On Saturday, 13 people were shot dead in the drug cartel–plagued Pacific state of Sinaloa.

In a Saturday mass in Ecatepec outside Mexico City, the pope equated the cartels with evil and the devil. "You don't dialogue with the devil," the pontiff said. Jaquez agrees with the pope but suspects it will be rather difficult to change their souls.

"The narcos don't believe in God," she told me. "They don't fear God,"

Teresa Puente is an associate professor of journalism at Columbia College Chicago and a senior facilitator with The OpEd Project. She also writes the Chicanísima blog. Follow her on Twitter.