Emilio D'Alessandro (left) with Stanley Kubrick. Photo courtesy of SkyHorse/Arcade Publishing

Police surround the bodies of striking miners after opening fire on a crowd at the Lonmin Platinum Mine near Rustenburg, South Africa, Thursday, 16th August, 2012. A delegation from Britain's Royal College of Defence Studies visited the offices of Lonmin last year (Photo: Str / AP)

Britain's Ministry of Defence has drawn up a secret report about how to keep South Africa's ruling party in power at the next election, VICE has discovered.

Freedom of Information Requests reveal that last year, a group of military officers from Britain's Royal College of Defence Studies visited South Africa. Their assignment was to "assess the political threats to continuing ANC rule in South Africa". I sent a further FoI request, asking to see the contents of the report compiled during that trip. The request was denied. The report remains classified, with the MoD claiming that "the information contained in the report was provided in confidence and should it be released has the potential to adversely affect relations with the South African government."

The ANC, or African National Congress, has ruled South Africa since the end of Apartheid. Once the party of Nelson Mandela and the national liberation struggle, its current leader Jacob Zuma is marred by corruption allegations and accused of running a repressive security apparatus against his political opponents.

Despite the concern surrounding the ANC's activities, the military officers were required to, "devise a medium term strategy, with concrete deliverables, for the party to retain power at the next general election".

The ANC did not respond to our request for comment. The UK Ministry of Defence told VICE that this was "a purely academic exercise, strictly for internal college study purposes, designed to develop course members' skills in strategic analysis and their ability to understand others' perspectives".

The MoD claim that "It had, and will have, no implication of partisanship in that tasking, and no implications for UK policy."

However, the officers took part in numerous activities outside of a normal military role, including meetings with a UK mining company. Campaigners are alarmed at British military interest in the political and economic affairs of a foreign power.

"It is outrageous if the UK Ministry of Defence is getting involved in planning how to ensure that one particular party retains power in South Africa," said campaigner Richard Solly, co-ordinator of the London Mining Network. "It is another example of the UK government's policy of supporting British mining companies and lobbying overseas governments for favours for those companies, even when there are huge concerns about their impacts on communities, the environment and human rights."

VICE obtained the itinerary for the South Africa visit, which revealed numerous business meetings. The military officers received a briefing at the Johannesburg Stock Exchange, and called in at HSBC for a working lunch about the "economic outlook for the region". The military delegation also attended an event at the offices of controversial British platinum mining company Lonmin in Johannesburg.

The topic of discussion at Lonmin was titled: "An Insider View on the Extractive Industry & Future Prospects". They spent an afternoon with senior staff from the company, including its head of marketing and vice president of refining.

Lonmin's operation in South Africa has hit the headlines because of workers staging strikes against poor conditions. It was during one strike in 2012 at the Lonmin site in Marikana, near Johannesburg, where police opened fire, killing 34 workers and injuring 78 more. The ANC and Lonmin have close connections, with one former company director at the time of the massacre, Cyril Ramaphosa, later becoming the ANC's Deputy President and right-hand man of President Jacob Zuma.

In the run up to the massacre, Ramaphosa emailed politicians and police urging them to take tougher action against the striking miners, who he said were "plainly dastardly criminals and must be characterised as such". Ramaphosa wanted the police "to act in a more pointed way". A subsequent inquiry cleared Ramaphosa of inciting the killing, although victims' families are trying to pursue him through the courts .

"The Marikana massacre in 2012 and the recent murder of Bazooka Rhadebe are examples of British-linked mining projects in South Africa associated with appalling violence, including violence on the part of the state," Solly from the London Mining Network said. "The British government should put its efforts into supporting the workers and communities struggling to get justice from British-linked companies."

Despite international condemnation of South Africa's police for the Marikana massacre, the MoD delegation was scheduled to visit a police station in Alexandra Township for a briefing from the South African Police Service. However, the MoD claims not to have any minutes or notes from the officers' meetings with the South African police and the mining company Lonmin. In response to a Freedom of Information request, it said, "No information is held on the organisation of the Lonmin Office and Alexandra Police station elements of the visit programme."

A shadow still hangs over South Africa's police, years after the Marikana massacre. A report last year claimed that South Africa's police were twice as likely to kill someone as the US police. Allegations of torture by police have also emerged.

Watch: Digging Into Surinam's Massive and Corrupt Gold Industry

The visit to South Africa was organised by the MoD's prestigious Royal College of Defence Studies (formerly the Imperial Defence College), which runs courses for officers "who have the potential to reach the highest ranks".

The itinerary included lectures from senior military figures and diplomats in addition to the business meetings. The 16-strong delegation also visited other African countries, with flights costings £100,000 and the accommodation bill for nights in top hotels surpassing £40,000.

The college says its mission is: "To prepare selected senior military officers and government officials as well as appropriate individuals from the private sector, from the United Kingdom and elsewhere for senior leadership and management roles."

However, campaigners argue that the defence college's visit to South Africa smacks of neo-colonialism. "Britain's military involvement in South Africa's political and economic affairs spans centuries," said Adam Elliot Cooper from the Rhodes Must Fall campaign. "It is clear that Britain has as little interest in the sovereignty of the South African people today as they did when they first invaded the region centuries ago."

@pmillerinfo

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The British Politicians Serving the World's Super Rich

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'Brexit' the Movie Reveals Why the Upper Classes Are So Excited at the Prospect of Leaving the EU

Bill Clinton, who is in the frame for an economic role, says Hilary Clinton (Photo by Justin Ruckman)

Everything you need to know about the world this morning, curated by VICE.

US News

Dozens of US Climate Activists Arrested
At least 57 climate change activists were arrested across the US on Sunday at "Break Free" protests against the use of fossil fuel. In Washington State, 52 activists were cited for trespassing on railroad tracks that lead to oil refineries. In New York, five people were arrested trying to block access to crude-oil shipment hub in Albany.—ABC News

Hillary Clinton Plans Economic Role for Bill
At a campaign rally in Kentucky, Hillary Clinton said she plans put her husband "in charge of economic revitalization." The Democratic party frontrunner said the former president understood job creation, "especially in places like coal country and inner cities and other parts of our country that have really been left out."—The Washington Post

Google Faces $3.4 Billion Fine
The European Commission is accusing Google of promoting its own shopping service at the expense of rivals in its internet searches, and could hit the US company with a $3.4 billion antitrust fine, according to a new report. The European Commission can fine international firms up to 10 percent of their annual sales.—Reuters

Obama to Give Medal of Valor to Cops
President Obama will today award the nation's highest honor for law enforcement to 13 police officers who put themselves in harm's way to protect citizens. The group includes Robert Wilson III of Philadelphia, who died after drawing fire during an armed robbery as he tried to keep store employees and customers safe.—USA Today

International News

Islamic State Attacks Kill 29 in Iraq
A series of attacks by the Islamic State (IS) on a natural gas plant and other targets in and around Baghdad have killed at least 29 people. Sunday's attacks started with a suicide car bomber hitting the gas plant's main gate, killing 14. Four other car bomb attacks killed another 15 people. It brings the death toll from IS attacks since Wednesday to 120 people.—Al Jazeera

Colombian Police Seize Largest Ever Drugs Haul
Police in Colombia have seized nearly eight tonnes of cocaine, the largest haul of illegal drugs ever recovered in the country. The drugs, thought to be worth $240 million, belonged to the Clan Usuga gang and were found hidden on a banana plantation near the Panamanian border. Three suspects were arrested and three escaped.—BBC News

Afghan Authorities Face Power Line Protests
Thousands of demonstrators from Afghanistan's Hazara minority group marched through Kabul on Monday to protest against the planned route of a multi-million dollar power line. The demonstrators are demanding the planned route for modernized transmission line be changed to pass through Hazara provinces.—Reuters

Duterte to Restore Death Penalty in Philippines
Philippine President-elect Rodrigo Duterte said he wants to bring back the death penalty. At his first press conference since winning the election, Duterte he would also try to give security forces shoot-to-kill powers for anyone evading arrest or involved in organized crime.—CNN

Glenn Back (Photo by Gage Skidmore)

Everything Else

Zuckerberg to Meet Conservative Pundits
Glenn Beck said he and other conservatives had been invited to a meeting at Facebook's headquarters on Wednesday to discuss the trending topics controversy. "Mark wanted to meet with eight or 10 of us to explain what happened," said Beck.—TIME

Azealia Banks Apologizes for Racist Tweets
Azealia Banks took to Instagram to apologize for the racist tweets she directed at Zayn Malik last week. "Employing racial/sexual slurs/stereotypes... is absolutely unacceptable," wrote the singer.—The Guardian

Wire Actor Arrested After Alleged Attack on Sanders Supporter
Actor and Hillary Clinton supporter Wendell Pierce was released on $1,000 bond after being charged with simple battery in Atlanta. The altercation was allegedly with a Bernie Sanders supporter and her boyfriend.—The Huffington Post

China is Pissed About the Pentagon's New Report
The Chinese defence ministry has condemned the US report as a deliberate distortion exaggerating Chinese military activity in the hotly contested South China Sea. A defense ministry spokesman said it had "severely damaged" mutual trust.—VICE News


Humans Litter Space with 100 Million Pieces of Junk
NASA estimates that more than 100 million man-made objects the size of a grain of salt and larger are circling the planet. The space debris now risks major damage to the International Space Station and satellites in orbit.—VICE News

Peachy Printer Founder Allegedly Embezzled Funds
David Boe, one of the Canadian founders of a crowdfunded campaign to create a 3D printer retailing at $77, allegedly used part of the money to build his own house. Police in Saskatchewan are investigating.—VICE

Done with reading today? Meet Barcelona's 'Human Dog' on today's 'Daily VICE':

Back in 1992, the Los Angeles riots not only set the city on fire, but lit up the news media with stories of violence, injustice, and racial profiling when the four white LAPD officers charged with the beating of unarmed black motorist Rodney King were found not guilty. For six days America watched as LA tore itself apart, and two of those eyes belonged do a nine-year-old Nathan Silver, who inadvertently reinterpreted the country's turmoil into his first film.

Silver, who was a young boy living in Arlington, Massachusetts, at the time, used his ninth birthday party to make his directing debut, casing his guests as rioters, cops, and bystanders, supplying them with toy guns, cigarettes, and a whole bunch of attitude. He'd later use this footage in his short, Riot.

It's a peculiar thing to see one of the most upsetting chapters in America through the lens of a prepubescent white boy and his friends. At nine, Silver cared more about the violence than the reasons behind it. He remembers his intent with the project was to "strip the events completely bare of anything political" and simply make an action movie.

In Riot, Silver provides the context he was lacking then, adding text, archival TV footage of the riots, and earlier party footage of himself. What you see is a compendium of violent moments in front of and behind the camera from Silver's "play" riot and the real ones happening in the streets, juxtaposed with the joy of a kid's birthday party. The film has a chilling effect that calls to mind the steady stream of state violence, mass shootings, and racism broadcast today all over our TVs, computers, and smartphones. Watch Riot below and check out my interview with Nathan Silver below, all grown up.

VICE: How did you come across the Riot footage again? What made you want to turn it into something now?
Nathan Silver: My father showed it to me. I used some of it for the Kickstarter campaign video for Soft in the Head back in 2011. Then my producer Josh Mandel stumbled across the Kickstarter video last year and told me I should do something else with the footage. One night, I was extremely frustrated after not being able to figure out how to crack the trailer for Stinking Heaven, so I decided to mess around with the footage and a few hours later I emerged with Riot.

Have you always known that you wanted to be a filmmaker?
No. I loved Stand by Me and recreated certain scenes from that, but I wasn't movie-obsessed. I felt bored by most movies. A lot of things you're shown as a kid have the same old structure and so you know exactly what's going to happen when—they're insanely predictable—and I remember feeling trapped in movie theaters, impatiently waiting for all the plot points to be hit so I could return home.

What were your first thoughts when you went over the footage again? It's weird because you're both a badass toting a pistol and cigarette, yet you're also a total crybaby diva.
I was a jerk. A little piece of shit completely unaware of what I was reenacting. I don't know how my parents could put up with me to be honest, but parents' love is especially blind, I guess.

Which of those versions do you relate to more nowadays?
I don't really relate to either. In the movie, it seems like I want to be a dictator director (which is a combination of a jackass badass and crybaby diva). Over the years, I've become an enabler of chaos. I don't like the idea of having control over the actors; I prefer them to dictate the course of the movies. I'm bored of my own ideas. I live with them 24/7, for better or worse. I want other ideas to pervert my original concept.

You've now made a documentary short and a feature as well as narrative shorts and features. Do you see them all as an extension of your filmmaker voice, or are they different to you?
All my features are almost fiction, including Actor Martinez. Riot is the closest I've come to documentary, but I have no desire to enter the documentary world. I'm happy to be able to make movies in a realm where truth, reality, and facts aren't being constantly policed. As far as formats go, I'm much more interested in using cameras that distort reality and don't just serve up a mediocre version of it à la most affordable HD cameras, so whenever I can justify using outmoded technology, I will.

Your films are still about the messy underbelly of society, told through outsider's stories. However, they're very character driven and "indie." Do you think you'll ever take up your nine-year-old mantle again and make an all-out action movie?
Yes, I would very much like to. I'm not sure what it will look like, but the idea excites me to no end.

What are you working on now?
A multi-layered bizarro portrait of a good friend as well as a one-sided amour fou story to be shot in Paris.

If you want to dig deeper, and I recommend you do, you can watch Silver's other acclaimed features Actor Martinez, Stinking Heaven, Uncertain Terms, Soft In the Head,and Exit Elena.

Jeffrey Bowers is a tall mustached guy from Ohio who's seen too many weird movies. He currently lives in Brooklyn, working as a film curator. He's the senior curator for Vimeo's On Demand platform. He has also programmed at Tribeca Film Festival, Rooftop Films, and the Hamptons International Film Festival.

This article appeared in the May issue of VICE magazine. Click HERE to subscribe.

THE ANATOMICAL VENUS: WAX, GOD, DEATH & THE ECSTATIC
Joanna Ebenstein
Distributed Art Publishers

In the world, there exist a number of dissectible, life-size, generally anatomically correct wax figures of swooning naked women. Called "Slashed Beauties," "Dissected Graces," or, most commonly, "Anatomical Venuses," these upsetting yet transfixing models are the subject of Joanna Ebenstein's The Anatomical Venus: Wax, God, Death & the Ecstatic, a fascinating book that describes how and why these once-revered, now-kitschy relics came to be.

In the 18th century, doctors wanted a way to teach anatomy without cadavers, which they couldn't preserve, and which were still considered ethically questionable in many places. The Italian sculptor Clemente Susini created the first true Anatomical Venus—the so-called Medici Venus—around 1780 as a substitute. While her discussion of Susini, his predecessors, and his successors offers much by way of bizarre historical fun, Ebenstein focuses more on the philosophical tensions of these figures, which occupy a space between science and religion, art and anatomy, the grotesque and the erotic. She attempts to understand them as objects that are "at once a seductive representation of ideal female beauty and an explicit demonstration of the inner workings of the body."

What Ebenstein argues is beguiling to our contemporary brains is that the figures weren't strictly medical, but beautiful as well. The outer appearance of the wax Medici Venus was modeled on Florence's other famous Venuses—Botticelli's Birth of Venus and the Ancient Greek Venus de' Medici sculptures. Their seemingly orgasmic expressions also had religious elements, signs of mystical ecstasy, and communion similar to the one Teresa of Ávila experienced the moment she was pierced by a handsome angel's gold-tipped spear.

Today, it is tempting to see the Anatomical Venus as a tragic victim, a disturbing symbol of men's desire to possess a passive woman. But The Anatomical Venus also offers convincing reasons to see the startling Sleeping Beauty, lovely even with her entrails showing, as something much more significant. "Perhaps the draw of the Anatomical Venus comes from an unspoken, intuited resolution of our own divided nature," Ebenstein writes, "an unconscious recognition of another avenue abandoned, in which beauty and science, religion and medicine, soul and body might be one." The pictures are really cool, too. —LAUREN OYLER

PEACEKEEPING: A NOVEL
Mischa Berlinski
Sarah Crichton Books

If you want to write a novel about white men in a hot grim place, you have some intimidating company. Norman Rush casts a long shadow, to say nothing of Graham Greene. But in Peacekeeping, Mischa Berlinski gives Haitian electoral intrigue the full Raymond Chandler treatment. Brash American UN worker Terry White, largehearted judge Johel Célestin, and their beautiful, disillusioned wives campaign against a despotic poet-senator to build a road that may bring prosperity—or at least carrots—to the impoverished town of Jérémie. Berlinski's Haiti is hard-boiled, full of mangos rotting and dreams running to seed. We start with the financial collapse in 2008 and finish with the earthquake that devastated the country in 2010. Yet the book is funny, alluring, and full of natural-born raconteurs: Creole-speaking boys chewing komparet; a candidate eating his ballots to prove they haven't been doused with swine flu; a father reciting Zola and Balzac to his children. It's by telling stories, Berlinski writes, that the world begins to make "an awful, homicidal kind of sense." Peacekeeping is about keeping yourself human when outlandish suffering becomes commonplace. Stories help. Rum, too. As the Creole proverb goes, "Getting by isn't a sin." Chandler would approve. —JAMIE FISHER

TRIBE: ON HOMECOMING AND BELONGING
Sebastian Junger
Twelve Books

Sebastian Junger's new book, Tribe, had its origins in a Vanity Fair article in which he investigated why, though only 10 percent of American forces ever see combat, the US Army now has the highest rate of post-traumatic stress disorder in its history. Here, Junger has expanded on the article's thesis: PTSD is caused not just by horrific combat experience but also by the solitude and lack of shared purpose veterans feel on returning to civilian life. They miss what Junger calls "tribalism," a way of living that prioritizes cooperation and conversation over our alienating preoccupations with wealth and urban life. Junger argues that in the modern world, the salutary effects of tribalism are to be found mainly in combat and disaster situations like earthquakes or the AIDS epidemic, which fostered collaboration based on the immediate struggle for survival and shared experiences of fear and loss. It's a provocative theory, but Junger doesn't glorify war and catastrophe. Instead, he suggests, somewhat quixotically, that those unifying effects can be re-created by underscoring a shared humanity, which can begin with simply cutting out divisive political rhetoric or pursuing some small service or sacrifice. —LIZ FIELDS

NOW WAIT FOR LAST YEAR
Caroline K
Blackest Ever Black/Klanggalerie

We know little about the visionary British artist and industrial musician Caroline Kaye Walters, who died in 2008. We do know that during her most active period in the 1980s, she released this classic record, her only solo album. It's a shame the best long player of the spring comes in the form of a reissue, but thanks to the dark-minded nerds at Blackest Ever Black, this enigmatic masterpiece sees a remaster for the first time since its release in 1987. By then, Walters had co-founded the anti-capitalist mail-art collective and record label Sterile Records, and her highly influential industrial group, Nocturnal Emissions. This album is her masterstroke. With a title pulled from a Philip K. Dick novel, the record takes the warping of time as its thesis, and its five near-perfect slabs of avant-bleak minimal synth and proto-techno would make a perfect soundtrack to your next OD. The songs—especially the horrifying 20-minute opening track—seem to stretch and skew their runtimes, with smeared, deathly synths and K's haunting, non-verbal chanting layered over pulsing industrial beats. Original pressings are almost impossible to find, so fake it with this excellent repress. —BENJAMIN SHAPIRO

THE DIVISION
Ubisoft

This is a hateful game full of hateful characters, and yet you won't be able to stop playing it. Set in a New York City stricken by a smallpox attack—think Escape from New York circa 2016—you control a government agent tasked with restoring order. Marauding gangs, ranging from looters and escaped convicts to genocidal, flamethrower-wielding sanitation workers, now largely rule the city. The friendly characters, the few who do appear, are poorly drawn clichés who serve only to shuttle you to the next objective. The real stars are the environment—The Division's frozen Manhattan is stunning, and wandering through its desolate streets is one of the game's great pleasures—and the nihilistic yet completely engrossing gameplay, which has you teaming up with other players to assault enemy strongholds, ultimately in the service of gathering better loot, more lethal equipment, and various clothing that changes your character's appearance. Its "dark zone" area in the middle of the city, where players can either cooperate against some of the game's most difficult enemies or turn on one another, is intimidating and addictive. (It's where the best loot is.) Your character never says a word, even when near death, which sucks. But the team at Ubisoft's Massive Entertainment has nailed the perfect risk-versus-reward cycle. You don't know why you need a new scarf. You just do. —MIKE DIVER

This article appeared in the May issue of VICE magazine. Click HERE to subscribe.

Warning: Spoilers through season six, episode four.

You Were Occasionally Awful

Here is a perfectly nice episode of television's Game of Thrones that you could watch with a stranger, a friend, your mom, a Lost fan, or someone otherwise unversed in the wars to come. We begin with those precious couple of minutes where the recently-promoted-to-memorable Dolorous Edd begs Jon Snow to consider his future—will he hit up Amsterdam, get warm, go for a joyride, get his MFA?—until Sansa arrives in the most heartfelt reunion I have ever seen between two characters that have never actually been onscreen together. But forget all that, I know what we're all here for: the unexpected sexy look between Brienne and the transfixed Tormund Giantsbane (will he woo her with animal bones? American Gladiator trading cards?), a bit of 'shipping fanfic in the season of fanfic and everything we never knew we were missing in life. This is "The Book of the Stranger," the gratification episode where we resolve the best and the worst of storyline and strap in our stuffed tigers (for those of us without shaggy dogs) for the long sled journey downhill.

Much of the excitement of this season, at least for die-hard fans, is getting to see far-flung characters next to one another at last, and while there's no question that Sansa's bittersweet reunion with her half-brother is plot impetus, there's no denying the feels of getting drunk with your sister and saying all that you meant to say: "You were occasionally awful, I am the prince that was promised," "Did you know I am a murderer of children," and so on. More fun is had in Castle Black's courtyard, oh venerable set, as Davos, Melisandre, and Brienne have an awkward moment regarding the fact that they are still alive post-character arc. I'm not complaining about anything, except maybe the weird fantasy accents everybody is conversing because I was initially misled into thinking that when Davos said "What about Shireen," he was asking the Red Woman, "Whatcha readin'?

Aidan Gillen as Petyr "Littlefinger" Baelish. Photo by Helen Sloan/HBO

The Way of the World

One of the true pleasures of television is watching your actors age in and out of character. So it's basically a nice thing to admire what puberty has done to idiot-boy-lord Robin Arryn in the time since we last saw him simpering, as the lad is simply huge as fuck. Littlefinger arrives, at peak Irish, with a gyrflacon and ably threatens Arryn's custodian Lord Royce into service of the real lord of the Vale: the plot of this interminable television show.

I'm a big fan of this installment of Raceistan 2: Electric Boogaloo, as Tyrion has a charming allotment of slave owners over for drinks only to (more than justifiably) face the recriminations of Missandei and Grey Worm. A note to would-be-diplomat: Lap dances are not the answer to everything. Actually, the consequences of Tyrion's rather dilettantish dispersal of tensions via compromise makes for fairly good atmosphere of exactly the kind that has been heretofore missing from this season. "Seven years is a long time for a slave" isn't just good advice for our wee hero, it's the appropriate rejoinder to a character we've loved for his amelioration between justice and what is presented as necessity. But those who have suffered understand suffering, and Tyrion is soon revealed to be a well-heeled apologist for atrocity, a role familiar to lots of national security advisors. If Game of Thrones rewards Tyrion for his auxiliary command of Meereen, it will be the 1973 Nobel Peace Prize all over again.

Michiel Huisman as Daario Naharis and Iain Glen as Jorah Mormont. Photo by Macall B. Polay/HBO

The Angina Dialogues

It's the angina dialogues with our Jorah the Andal/Daario from Vermont buddy comedy, as they embark on a mission to rescue a princess who does not need saving. In a show of dudely solidarity, Daario acknowledges Jorah's disease before they infiltrate the Vaes Dothrak, and soon after, Darrio stabs a man and then smashes the dead guy's face with a rock. Improvisation!

I very much admire what would be a soaring pass of the Bechdel test were we not in a city of the widows of famous dead barbarian men, as Danerys takes counsel from a young widow. This scene is excellent until the intrusion of the savior-men, but they have the right line—"All we can do is try"—before Khaleesi has the brilliant idea of setting everybody on fire.

Gemma Whelan as Yara Greyjoy and Alfie Allen as Theon Greyjoy. Photo by Helen Sloan/HBO

His dirty peasant hands

Never have I been more certain of our hero, the show's premier villain, the High Sparrow, as when Jonathan Pryce explains the labor theory of value to Margaery Tyrell in her cell, and we witness the first of three beautiful scenes where sisters comfort their weepy younger brothers in the moment of their weakness. Loras just wants an end to his abuse at the hands of an evil nun, Theon wants his sister Yara to be queen, and Sansa wants Jon to man up and fight for the North's right to party. But we all want the same thing: an end to gratuitous nudity in the Seven Kingdoms. This is the errand on which Cersei and Jaime attend the small council, to wrest power Never-Trump-style from the Sparrow's "dirty peasant hands" in a scene that is as full of intrigue as a meeting of the Park Slope Food Co-op directors, and which results in the same level of skullduggery usually reserved for amaranth. It's a top-notch meeting of the city brass compounded by the extraordinary 77-year-old sex bomb Diana Rigg's observation that, should King's Landing be engulfed by civil war, it's "better then them us." Sic Semper Ty-Lannis.

I'm a big booster for Theon's journey into mediocrity, and Yara's "spoiled little cunt" dialogue is a merciful end to Gamergate in the Iron Islands. Telling her brother to "stop crying! Look at me!" is more than a good reproach to the accusations of sexism that accrue around the show, it is a demand to #niceguys to hail the competent pirate queen whose been sidelined for nigh on three seasons (Gemma Whalen in a killer performance as the queen-apparent).

Ramsey Bolton Is Terrible at Skinning Apples

Is all I can think to say about the dispatch of Osha, a character we haven't seen in two seasons is that, as much as I admire this season's screws-tightening-of-extraneous elements—for those counting we've had two Martells, two Boltons, and Thorne and fucking Olly—Osha's death-by-coring was super disrespectful for a figure that feeds that of villain-of-the-season Ramsey who, if I'm not mistaken, is coming off very Joker in the scene where he proves nothing so much as how awful he is at peeling apples. Viewers at home, here is a test: See if you can unleash the polypyrenous you (or look up this absurd word) in the time it takes this show to brutally murder a supporting female.

But if we're looking for a silver lining in this absolutely bronze-medal episode, we have it in Castle Black, where Tormund lustily bites a leg of potted meat food product while staring at Brienne. That's what will pass for swiping right in a kingdom where most attractions are ordained by the will of the seven gods, or the khalasar, or the books of a mad sea captain, or the High Sparrow—a little autonomy, and a room of one's own.

Recent work by J. W. McCormack appears in Conjunctions, BOMB, and the New Republic. Read his other writing on VICE here.

Collage by Marta Parszeniew

The manifold responsibilities and pressures of teaching don't really fit with the abstract concept of "your 20s", a decade that's supposed to denote the last socially acceptable pangs of irresponsibility, rootlessness and having no fixed idea about who you are. A career in teaching, meanwhile, tends to mean a life of dedication characterised by routine 70+ hour weeks, endless data input and controlling stuffy classrooms full of demonic, hormonal teenagers.

I know this because I am a new teacher, and although I love my job, it's sometimes a struggle. Almost 40 percent of newly qualified teachers have considered leaving the profession in the last year, and I'm sure many found that the job had simply taken over their life.

We thought it would be cool to catch up with a variety of young teachers from around the country and ask them about what it's really like trying to juggle their 20s with life in the classroom. For obvious reasons, we've changed their names, but they weren't timid in dealing with issues, from partying, unwanted Facebook requests and the skin-searingly awful pitfalls of trying, and failing, to fulfil the "cool teacher" stereotype.

DAVID, 29, ART TEACHER, STIRLINGSHIRE

VICE: How do you square doing all the normal 20-something stuff with the responsibilities and stresses of teaching?
David: In the last job I had before teaching, I used to totally take the piss, turning up late for work having come straight from a party, but I maintain a pretty solid delineation between work and recreation now. I've only gone to work hungover maybe three times in about six years of teaching, partly because it's just totally fucking unprofessional to turn up as a teacher when you've obviously been wrecked the night before but also because being responsible for a room full of teenagers is pretty much the worst setting imaginable for dealing with the fallout from a big night.

From experience, I've noticed that teenagers definitely perceive you as being barely removed from their own lives in a way that doesn't happen when with older, more experienced teachers. How do you keep on top of that?
When I'd just qualified I was probably more relatable, and the cultural chasm between me and my pupils seemed more like a reasonably small crevasse. I now tend to take pleasure in making disparaging remarks about Kanye West or Joey Essex and lapping up their outrage.

So you don't try to be their mate?
Some teachers I know use a degree of familiarity to build really strong teaching relationships and I don't see any issue with that. As long as interactions stay within socially acceptable boundaries then it's cool. It's your responsibility though. I worked out pretty early on that my character doesn't mesh with that "cool teacher" approach so I'm pretty firm and formal, like a Radio 4 version of myself.

Have you ever been scouted by any pupils on social media?
The funniest social media experience was when this kid who wasn't even in one of my classes sent me a message that simply said "you're fucking gimp". It went into the "other" box because he wasn't a contact, so I didn't pick up the message for about three years. It was too late for me to get back to him with a request for clarification about whether the missing "a" should have been placed before or after "fucking". I'm still totally baffled by why he sent that message.

Do you remember having any younger teachers when you were at school and did that affect your relationship with them?
There was a Home Economics teacher who was in her early 20s. During our first lesson she asked everyone to tell their best joke. Inevitably everyone came out with the filthiest, sweariest joke they knew. I think I told one about a guy fucking a hole in a tree that I no longer fully remember and she was laughing along. Everyone thought she was really cool to start with but then for most of the subsequent lessons she was really strict and lost her shit about the tiniest things. No one would have cared if she'd been strict from day one but that inconsistency ultimately diminished the amount of respect we had for her. It was a good lesson about being consistent in the way you deal with people, if nothing else.

The teacher actually invited him to the school Christmas dance as her date. She must have given absolutely zero fucks.

What about the weird world teacher-student relationships. Have you ever seen any of that?
When I was in sixth form the only young teacher I knew was through my friend (who had left a year or two beforehand) who ended up going out with this girl who had started teaching at our school. I think she was just out of teacher training, maybe on her probationary year. There was only about a three-year age gap but it was really fucking weird to be 18, sitting in the pub with your mates and a teacher. She was actually a really cool person, but it was a small area and it probably didn't endear her to the faculty. She invited him to the school Christmas dance as her date. I don't think he went but she must have given absolutely zero fucks.

VICK, 22, HUMANITIES TEACHER, GLASGOW

Is it possible to be a "normal" 20-something when you're a teacher?
It's difficult. The life I had before teaching was completely different to what it is now. Teaching makes you grow up a lot – especially going straight into a job at 21. I'm less mad, for sure. Much more iPlayer and much less Subclub.

What are your strategies for dealing with the small age gap between you and your students?
Oh god, yeah the age gap thing has been a struggle at times. Teenagers don't take you as seriously as they do older teachers. Kids seem much older than me when I was at school, too. Some of the 17-year-olds look so old. Consistency is the key, having rules and routine for teenagers is so important. You have to take a line and follow it, for better or worse, as it's impossible to row back after you've committed to one way of doing things.

Were you ever tempted to play the "cool young teacher" card?
Yes, and I learned the hard way that it doesn't work. Teachers and pupils can't be friends.

What made you actually get into teaching?
I suppose I just wanted to help people. I like getting the best out of the kids I teach and it may sound cliché but it's one of the most rewarding jobs you could ever do. I have some friends who are in dead end jobs who count down the hours until they finish but it's not like that with teaching.

ALEX, 26, PHYSICS TEACHER, LONDON

VICE: Do you ever get to go out and get drunk or go on dating apps when you're a teacher?
Alex: Not really. I've not got too much of a life outside work, it's pretty all-consuming. Sometimes it feels like going out and getting minging with my mates is a thing of the distant past.

The few times I ventured topical jokes were among the most dreadful moments of my life.

Do students take you seriously as a young teacher?
The older ones always quiz me on whether I've been out during the weekend. I just tell them the God's honest truth: no. Where the fuck would I find the time? I've never tried to pretend I'm their mate; in fact, at the beginning I was being ridiculously harsh, which they don't respect either.

So you don't try and be relatable?
The few times I ventured topical jokes were among the most dreadful moments of my life. Proper lead balloon shit in front of 30 braying teenagers. Nightmare memories.

So what made you actually get into teaching?
I came out of uni and had no clue at all about what I was doing and this just seemed like the best option. But now I do love it. It's difficult and takes over your life, in many ways but it's worth it.

LAURA 23, ENGLISH TEACHER, NORTHERN IRELAND

VICE: How do you juggle the pressures of being just a few years older than some of the kids you're teaching?
Laura: It's a delicate balancing act, and one I'm still trying to perfect. During my first few months as a newly qualified teacher I remember looking around desperately for the adult in the room, before realising it was me.

How do the kids perceive you in the classroom?
The key is knowing what you can divulge (usually what Netflix series I'm addicted to), and what to withhold. It reaps rewards pastorally too. I find students feel more able to come to me to speak about any concerns, or when they need some support. I try to treat them as young adults rather than kids, and I think they appreciate that.

Did you ever feel tempted to try out the hip young teacher role?
I'm a massive nerd to be honest. I talk openly with my students about my obsession with dinosaurs and Harry Potter, and other severely uncool stuff. I try to show them that it's OK to be uncool, as long as you're being yourself. I hope it's a positive approach, but no doubt there is a sea of tweets somewhere with "OMG, did you SEE the nick of miss today..."

What drew you into teaching in the first place?
It may be a cliché, but I wanted to make a difference. I went to a great school, but went through quite a lot in my personal life as a teenager. I had one teacher who simply refused to give up on me. She gave me no option but to succeed. And I couldn't help but think that there are countless kids in schools everywhere who deserved that chance.

Follow Francisco on Twitter

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This incident marks the city's 29th homicide of 2016. Photo by author.

A pregnant Toronto woman is dead and her baby is in the hospital after she was the victim of a drive-by shooting Sunday night.

Steve Hill isn't your typical politician. For one thing, he's a comedian and real estate appraiser who says he hates the Establishment. He also curses pretty frequently.

Oh, and there's that other thing: Hill is a member of the Satanic Temple.

But that doesn't mean the guy is into sacrificing animals or having sex on a weird altar or attending Eyes Wide Shut parties on the weekend. In fact, Hill says his affiliation with the temple is rather boring: He met some likeminded freethinkers at a conference in the Midwest, and even though he's actually an atheist, he decided to join their group back at home in Los Angeles. Now Hill's after a seat in the California State Senate. With the Democratic primary coming up on June 7, frustrated media outlets have been focused on his membership in the Satanic Temple, as opposed to the issues he wants to talk about with people in LA's Antelope Valley.

We called up the former Marine sergeant and correctional officer to discuss whether he thinks California voters can put his familiarity with Baphomet and affinity for words like "humanist" aside.

VICE: You've got a really impressive résumé. You were a Marine sergeant, and you've worked in the aerospace industry and the California prison system. Will any of that matter to voters, or is your being the "Satanic candidate" going to overshadow everything else?
Steve Hill: Yes, it will. And that's kind of the gist of the whole thing. Because if I wasn't an activist for the secular community, I would be in a shoo-in. And article six, section three of the the Constitution states, "No religious test shall ever be required as a qualification to any office or public trust under the United States." So if we can knock people out of their way of thinking, and they listen to my issues—I'm screaming to these people about improving education on the East Side. My wife is a teacher. She works in the bad part of town. We've got high poverty levels, eighty-two percent of the kids qualify for free lunch, the grades are bad, especially when it comes to African American kids. And none of the preachers are mentioning this shit. None of them are talking about it. Those problems persist.

Geralt and Yennefer in a moment of clothes-on intimacy. (This is actually one of my favorite scenes in the whole game. Shut up.)

If you've played The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt—and I'm going to assume you have, because it's the best game that came out in 2015, and you pretty much need it in your life—then you know all about the hanky-panky that goes on between the monster slaying, politics, and personal turmoil that comprise its narrative backbone. Geralt, the Witcher in question, a genetically mutated hunter-cum-tracker with heightened senses, two swords, and some fantastic facial hair (let it grow out, it suits him), isn't slow in saying yes to the possibility of some good ol' boot-knocking should the player in question want to paint his personality as fast and loose in the love department.

There are at least three separate sorceresses that Geralt can go to bed with in The Witcher 3, and many more strictly human partners-to-be, if you decide to role-play in such a way. Personally, after playing the field a little in a preliminary run on preview code, my "complete" game saw my Geralt stay faithful to Yennefer, the dark-haired sorceress who Andrzej Sapkowski, the author of the fantasy books that inspired the Witcher video games, wrote as his long(est)-term partner. But if you want him to sow his wild oats, that's your call to make—not that he'd be planting any seeds, on account of all Witchers being sterile. (Is that metaphor holding up, back there? I think I just about got away with it.) And if you stay the path of truest virtual love and commit yourself to Yen, you could well be rewarded with that unicorn scene.

What do you mean, what unicorn scene? The below video is probably NSFW.

Clearly, the makers of The Witcher 3, Polish studio CD Projekt Red, had a fair bit of fun when putting together that particular encounter—although it does have its roots in Sapkowski's writing, with the author observing Yen's preference for sex in unusual places, or on unlikely objects, in this case. But watching sex in a video game—it can still feel a bit icky, can't it? Somehow wrong in comparison to two Actual Humans on your screen of choice, be that in a PG-13 simulated clinch or indulging in something a little more post-post-watershed. Karoline Stachyra, one of the senior writers on The Witcher 3, spoke to me a little about what it was like writing so much action between the sheets into a game with plenty enough going on outside them.

"The unicorn thing was in the books," she confirms to me. "And they did it on the unicorn because there's this particular chemistry between them. It's just a thing they'd do. You don't need to explain it, for them, and it's like an inside joke that you as the gamer are privy to. It's just natural for these characters."

What was also vital for Stachyra and her colleagues was that none of Geralt's potential love interests—outside of the professionals of the Passiflora, anyway—was a one-dimensional character merely there for "conquest."

Article continues after the video below

Related: Watch VICE's film on the digital love industry

"Characters come first, no pun intended," she tells me. "Well, maybe a bit. But really, characters are what drive Wild Hunt. I often get asked things like, 'What's the key to creating a good, strong female character,' as we have our share—think of Cerys, Ciri, Triss, Yen, Keira Metz, and many more. And my answer is always: I don't know, because I don't think that way. When I write, I create a character. A flawed character, a magnificent character, a genuine character, you name it. But it's never a male or female character. And this applies to sex scenes in Wild Hunt as well."

With Yen at least, it's quite clear that Geralt isn't the one in the driving seat—she calls the shots in the bedroom department, even if that means throwing the bed in question out of the window for reasons that, well, are fairly understandable. And the player has no direct control over the physical act unfolding on their screen, either—which, if we're all honest with ourselves, might just be a quick time event too far for a mainstream-courting, big-budget adventure game. Hot coffee, and all that.

", I think it depends on why you want to make it interactive," Stachyra says. "If you want to build an emotional relationship between the characters on screen and the players controlling them, the way you touch someone in the game—their lips, cheeks—and the way you look at them, these things can have meaning and translate to gameplay. Somehow. Still, gameplay design is not my cup of tea."

In your own playthrough of The Witcher 3 you'll encounter incredible creatures, ancient deities, old friends and foes alike, inspiring vistas, and tragedy-struck landscapes scarred by the ravages of war. It's a game full of fascinating sights, and a game which, if you're anything like me, you'll constantly delay getting to the very end of in the hope of always accidentally uncovering something new. But what you absolutely won't see, however many hours you put into proceedings, is an erect penis. I understand why—it's not like you'll often see a fully blooded boner in Hollywood cinema. But I wondered if, when writing sex scenes for video games, there is anything that programmers and writers alike simply cannot do. Yes, it turns out, sort of—but not because they don't want to.

"I remember this situation from back when we were making Wild Hunt. We wanted a character to undo her hair during some dialogue. Just a gimmick, nothing really relevant to the plot, just something you'd consider very natural during dialogue. And you know what? The amount of custom work needed to do that at the time was really big, and we ended up not doing it. But basically, we can do everything, but everything costs time and time is something we often have very little of. Here's where the line's drawn. For sex and for sex scenes, and for everything else, too."

Geralt can also pursue a meaningful relationship with Triss, albeit at the expense of Yen. Attempt to woo both and, well... it's best that you don't.

I don't yet know where The Witcher 3's upcoming mega-expansion, Blood and Wine (can't wait), will truly take Geralt and his promiscuous (or not) pecker; but I do know that an accidental tryst with Shani in the previous storyline DLC, Hearts of Stone, left me feeling... guilty, actually.

"Hearts of Stone is detached from the main storyline, so, technically, you had sex 'in parallel' to what you experienced in Wild Hunt, so you need not feel guilty," Stachyra reassures me. "But if you still do, it means that we've succeeded in creating a character that you actually can identify with. Really identify with."

And she's right, you know. The Witcher 3 got a lot of attention for its sex-on-the-back-of-a-stuffed-fantasy-beast scene—even Conan O'Brien found space to highlight its sweetly kinky silliness. But it's the strength and depth of Yen, of Triss and a handful of other prominent female characters in The Witcher 3 (the sorceresses really do run shit) that ensures that their relationships with Geralt feel substantial, important, and surprisingly close to those we've had in our own, so-called real lives. I'm not about to bunk up with my wife on top of a badger freshly back from the taxidermist, but you know what I mean. Right?

Blood and Wine will be released on May 31. Find more information on The Witcher 3 at the game's official website.

Follow Mike Diver on Twitter.

Kate Beaton (all photos courtesy of Kate Beaton)

"A lot of people who do what I do are stressed out and anxious a lot of the time," says cartoonist Kate Beaton. "There's always a fire under my ass. I never work fast enough, and I feel like I should be producing faster, and it's never good enough."

When America saw the first signs of an opioid addiction epidemic in the mid 1990s, one major mystery began to fester. Pharmacology research has long suggested that drugs which take effect slowly and last for a long time are likely to be less addictive than those that hit fast and crash faster. In fact, that's at least part of why FDA officials felt like they were on safe ground when they approved Oxycontin—the first long-acting form of the opioid oxycodone—in 1995.

But the explosion of addictions after that suggested there was a glaring problem with this perspective. Most Oxycontin addictions struck recreational drug users who snorted or injected it—which bypasses the time-release mechanism and makes it into a short-acting, fast-hitting drug. But even people who swallowed the stuff seemed overly likely to get hooked. Anti-opioid activists began arguing that the previously unquestioned principle trumpeting long-acting drugs as less addictive was mere propaganda from the pharmaceutical industry.

That is until earlier this month, when the LA Times seemed to reveal the missing piece of the puzzle: According to an investigation published May 5, while manufacturer Purdue Pharma has long claimed that Oxycontin's effects last for at least 12 hours, some of the company's own studies showed that for many people, the drug wears off way faster than that.

This means pharmacologists actually are right about the relationship between how long drugs last and the risk of addiction. It could also help explain why some pain patients have faced a higher risk for addiction than they should have, helping produce a jump in addictions that's led to an unprecedented number of overdose deaths in America.

It might seem paradoxical to think that a drug that lasts for a long time would be less addictive than a shorter-acting one, rather than the other way around. After all, people who like intoxication should want to stay high as long as possible—not to mention that this would mean they'd need to pay for drugs less frequently.

But this isn't actually how getting high works.

As the term "high" itself implies, there's a relationship at play. You can't just be high—you have to be high relative to a lower state. Part of what causes addiction, then, is the contrast between the high and your normal state of consciousness. If you just go up and stay up, you are naturally going to be less aware of this contrast. (Also, if you start from lower, you'll feel much higher—which is part of why people in emotional distress are much more likely than others to get addicted.)

Basically, addiction can't occur unless your brain learns that a drug improves your state of mind somehow—typically by intensifying and accelerating experience (think stimulants like methamphetamine or cocaine) or slowing and numbing it (think depressants like alcohol and opioids). The more frequently you associate a drug with feeling better, the more that learning gets internalized. This means a short-acting drug, one that produces a series of highs and lows, will be more addictive due to repetition alone than a longer-acting one will be. And the relative intensity of the up-and-down experience will also increase risk.

This helps explain why shooting drugs is generally more addictive than swallowing them and why smoking crack or shooting cocaine powder are both more addictive than snorting it. In most cases*, injecting drugs gets them to the brain fastest, followed by smoking, snorting and eating.

The reduced addiction risk that comes from staying in a steady state is also the principle on which the use of maintenance drugs—the only treatment that cuts the death rate from opioid addiction—relies. Indeed, when pain is treated with opioids, the vast majority of patients do not become addicted. This fact—widely promoted by a great deal of pharmaceutical advertising—led doctors to become less cautious about prescribing during the 90s and early 00s. (And that indirectly made the drugs more available to the people who are at high risk of addiction, like teens and young adults, who generally get them from family medicine cabinets, friends and dealers).

In pain treatment, the idea that longer-acting drugs are less addictive relied on the same principle observed in studies on recreational use. The fewer ups and downs patients experience, the less likely they are to feel a "rush" and develop a strong association between the drug and relief. Keeping pain levels steady and low—rather than waiting to take drugs until the last dose wears off—is the goal. And abundant marketing assured doctors this could be achieved for 12 hours with Oxy.

Unfortunately, according to the LA Times, Purdue Pharma, the manufacturer of Oxycontin, has known from the start that for many people, the drug doesn't last nearly that long. The paper described what happened to one Oxycontin patient, a 42-year-old plant scientist named Elizabeth Kipp who had back pain beginning when she was thrown from a horse at age 14. She would suffer in agony for hours between Oxy doses, but her doctor insisted she stay on the 12-hour regimen.

'You want a description of hell?" the patient recalled. "I can give it to you.

Kipp should have been at low risk for addiction: She was past her teens and 20s, which is the peak period of risk. She was also taking the drug exactly as prescribed.

But because Purdue apparently misled doctors about Oxy's true length of effectiveness, her risk increased dramatically. And she remained hooked until she eventually went to rehab. Sadly, hers is not at all an isolated case.

(In a lengthy response to the paper, a Purdue Pharma spokesperson said, "Scientific evidence amassed over more than 20 years, including more than a dozen controlled clinical studies, supports the FDA's approval of 12-hour dosing for OxyContin.")

So what should we do now? For one, it's good to know pharmacology texts don't need changing: addiction really is less likely if you "go slow and stay low." And steady pain relief (rather than waiting to take drugs at longer intervals) is still a good idea.

Secondly, if there is anyone who doesn't already think that Big Pharma needs to be better regulated and made to pay for severe ethical violations that go beyond fines they can simply write off as a "cost of doing business," this should make them think again.

America needs to ban direct-to-consumer advertising, massively raise fines for misleading marketing, and give the National Institutes of Health (NIH) the funding and responsibility for most human clinical trials, rather than drug companies.

And the government should refuse to allow companies that repeatedly violate the law to continue to do so.

Medical science relies on trust and good data. The story of Oxycontin continues to undermine it. Pain patients, people with addiction, and human beings everywhere deserve better.

Follow Maia Szalavitz on Twitter.

*Cocaine may be an exception: some research suggests smoking crack gets coke to the brain faster than injecting, but the subjective experience (at least in my own case) was that injecting is quicker and more intense.

All photos by Jackie Dives

Seated on a folding camp chair under a ceiling of blue and grey tarps, Ana McBee warns me to be careful.

Not about drugs or theft or anything like that.

"There are wild turkeys here," she says, visibly holding back laughter. She then lets out a startling gobble-yodel, turning her head with a smile as voices from other tents answer with bizarre birdcalls of their own.

Needless to say, McBee has made friends living on the lawn of Victoria's courthouse. Over the half hour I spend in her makeshift home, a handful of visitors stop by to ask for a band-aid or to bum a smoke. She says the constant buzz of activity can be challenging at times, but for the most part it helps her feel supported—a feeling she doesn't get from an emergency homeless shelter.

"Being alone and just being fucked with daily didn't feel good," McBee tells VICE, recounting conflicts with cops and shelter managers, and bylaws against park camping past 7 AM. She speaks rapidly, sometimes losing a train of thought, then picking it back up again. "The physical stress of having to carry your stuff around, set up and tear down every single day, it consumes so much of your energy and time... We grouped together and things became easier."

Victoria's tent city, now seven months old, has become a contested symbol of British Columbia's housing crisis and growing wealth divide. Police and neighbours say it's an eyesore and a safety hazard. Anti-poverty activists call it a de facto refugee camp, blasting the province for stagnant social assistance rates and not doing enough on affordable housing. While much of BC is busy freaking out over the skyrocketing value of multi-million dollar homes in Vancouver, people living in the camp say they've been pushed out of that market, abused by social service providers and have no choice but to set up camp in public.

In a surprise decision last month, a BC Supreme Court judge agreed with the campers—at least temporarily. When the province sought an injunction to dismantle the camp, Justice Christopher Hinkson wrote the defendants "simply have nowhere to move to." It's significant, since the province had already put extra money into new temporary shelters. Hinkson found many of the campers have needs that aren't being met in the shelter system, or have been banned from shelters altogether. All this means the tents get to stay until at least September 7, when the injunction case will get another day in court.

With a giant cathedral on one side and the courthouse steps on the other, one observer tells me tent city is resisting church and state on all sides. The camp itself is divided into corners, separating drug users and alcoholics from abstainers. There's a central food storage, where volunteers often drop off sandwiches, and a row of three porta-potties in the back. Some areas are fenced off with pallets donated by local businesses, giving off a shanty town vibe. Running water and flushing toilets are also in the works.

Of the dozen campers VICE spent time with, most had a history of street homelessness and have sworn off the shelter system. Some were renting apartments just a few months ago, others have spent decades in doorways and parks. "We're kind of die-hard when it comes to being autonomous, because nothing else works for us," says McBee. "We cannot—will not—deal with imposed rules that don't work for us."

For Jaime Green, it's the rules against couples staying together that keep her out of shelters; she shares a tent with her partner, Mark. When we meet, she's repurposing one of the pallets in effort to mount a basket of strawberry plants already bearing tiny yellow-green fruit. "If I had space I'd be growing peas and other shoots, too," she says.

Green has a college degree and years of experience working for government. She says a mental breakdown and a misunderstanding with police led her to the streets a few years ago. She's still looking for a place she can afford with BC's disability allowance, but she's not getting her hopes up.

"We're actually able to look at apartments, whereas before we were just so exhausted from getting ourselves fed and keeping our shit together, we didn't have time to go and look for a place to live," she says.

But when it comes to landing an apartment, living at tent city has been both a blessing and a curse. "We just applied for a place downtown the other day and I put no fixed address. And that looks just horrible," she recalls. "And then I said, 'Well I'm at tent city.' And with all the shite press that tent city's got, it's like, then we're backpedaling."

That bad press includes reports of stabbings and break-ins in the area, as well as frequent noise complaints after midnight. Police are quick to point to a 46 percent spike in disturbance calls within a three-block radius. There's even a small wood memorial in tribute to the one man who died of an overdose on site.

These are the same reasons places like Nanaimo, Abbotsford, and Surrey are fighting tent pop-ups with any available resources. Abbotsford served eviction notices to campers in February and updated bylaws to ban camping structures during daylight hours, even as shelters are at capacity. Surrey also cracked down on tents in April. In Nanaimo, a small camp under a bridge was recently scraped into a dumpster by massive excavators.

And yet Victoria's tent city defies its stigma as a place of crime and misery. There's face paint, banana bread, and, yes, wild turkey calls. And when those goofy gobbles echo through the camp, you can practically hear the hard-won self-determination.

Follow Sarah Berman on Twitter

A toilet at Cheyenne's place. All photos by the author

A few weeks ago we ran a story on the apartments of single guys around the world. The general thesis was that guys are gross, and the photos seemed to back this up. Most of the guys had a glaze of old tomato sauce splashed over their stovetops, socks everywhere, and an obvious passion for bathroom mold.

Are women just as bad? Or, more specifically, are women in Australia better at cleaning than guys everywhere? To find out we visited a few around Melbourne to take some photos and talk housekeeping.

Sharmayne, 26

VICE: Your room seems to be in the depths of some creative chaos. How come?
Sharmayne: Well, most of the stuff in here represents certain phases or chapters that have characterized my personal identity over the years. After a year of living in a modern, shiny apartment that didn't feel like mine, with a clean freak ex in Sydney, I felt a natural inclination to revisit past themes. I'm an artist, so I like to analyze various themes and materials in order to inform my practice, and also personally, just to see where I'm at. So I guess my room is a type of live-in journal.

Sometimes I give it effort, sometimes it's just scribble. I like it clean and feel refreshed when everything is organized, but sometimes I secretly like it when it's a mess, there is an essence of comfort in coming back to your own messy bed and just crashing. There are no rules in it. Mess is very personal so I guess there is a potency of "self" that comforts. It's primal.

Would you say this is a normal living situation?
I think if there's a fridge, a shower, a loo, a bed, and a bit of sun to sip some coffee in the morning, and ideally some walls and a bit of peace, then it's a normal living situation.

How does living here practically work with all the mundane tasks that come with a household?
Being able to paint a wall at will. Shifting the furniture all over the place, and no one getting precious, because most of it's been abandoned anyway, makes it a lot of fun.

Instead of a lounge, we have a huge space and a big balcony over Johnston Street. It's lovely to have my morning coffee on it and people watch. I'm not living on my own, but I'm not living in such close quarters with people either.

Do you ever crave "nice" or what some stiffs might call "clean"?
Sometimes. If I just want a break... then I escape somewhere. On my last birthday I booked a room in a five-star hotel, ate oysters in bed, and woke up in lush sheets to city views.

Emma, 19 (left). Lucy, 20

Alright, let's get the skeletons out of the closet.
Lucy: Ouch, sounds scary. There's really not that bad skeletons hidden here, but we can tell a few peculiarities. First off, Emma is a recycling Nazi. If there's like a toilet roll in the wrong bin, it goes directly onto her nerves. She's also a bit paranoid with the electricity and switching the power off.

Emma: Lucy on the other hand loves bleach. She bleaches everything from shower tiles to clothes.

Any annoying habits?
Lucy: We are really lazy taking the trash out. It's annoying to carry it all the way downstairs, so it just stays here and piles up. Also Emma's alarm often rings for hours and she just keeps sleeping.

Any ghost stories?
Emma: Don't say that, I'm freaking out already. Like I met this dude who used to live here and he mentioned that the building has a weird eerie undertone, but I'm just blocking that out.
Lucy: It's a new building, relax.
Emma: I love being alone in the house, but sometimes I get scared.
Lucy: Yeah okay, me too. I always leave the blinds open.

Patchanida, 23

This is a lovely big house! It's got an upper class feel.
Thank you! Everyone here is in their mid-30s, so they're kind of established. Most of the time they are at work and not messing up the place. I feel I'm here the most and can enjoy the space for myself.

How often you change the sheets?
I moved in two months ago, and haven't washed them yet. I'd say after three months. When I go to bed I'm always clean, I shower before sleep.

Have you heard that sheets should be changed weekly?
No, that's not me. I like to use them for a while and then they start to smell like me. I don't eat in bed either. I'm sensitive about scents and I don't like food smell in bed. It's comforting in here. I'm home, not in a hotel.

Cheyenne, 24

You just moved here, right?
Ha, no. I've been in this house for five years, I just moved rooms.

Ah ok, so now you're in the best one?
Yeah, for sure. Slowly moved my way up on the food chain.

What's that axe in the tub?
Well, I just had a party for my birthday and came home and wanted to have a bath. The axe was there and somehow it ended in the bath. All this commotion woke up my housemate and he came to have a bath with us. We ended up covering ourselves with shaving cream and sliding on the lino down the hallway. We were Disney princesses in the bath. Probably because of that axe.

So that's how you clean the floor here.
No. I use a mop and bleach to keep the house clean. We don't just slide across the house naked with my friends.

It's pretty hard to believe anything you say. Is anything sacred to you?
My room. It is my boudoir. Ideally I want my room to look like the pink room in Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me. Have you seen Practical Magic? Fuck it's a film!

All photos and interviews by Obi Blanche. Follow him on Instagram and Soundcloud.

That's the only possible explanation for the smarmy, self-congratulatory five-minute video his dead (or undead) campaign released this weekend, featuring a Cruz staffer musing to an unseen audience about the nature of loss, regret, and the nobility of failing to stop a candidate whose angry nativism and fearmongering was only a shade darker than Cruz's. "Ted Cruz didn't lose, our campaign for president lost," the staffer intones, which I guess is technically true—but still, Cruz definitely didn't win.

Then Cruz himself appears and calls his losing campaign's staff "the finest team in politics I've ever seen, and I suspect has ever come together" and tells them, "Everyone here has poured your hearts into this journey... We left everything on the field." This is accompanied by footage of white people, presumably Cruz supporters, smiling, talking, or just sort of standing around—a montage that manages to be actually pretty dang uplifting and cathartic thanks to some Explosions in the Sky–sounding music that could turn eating pancakes into an emotional climax. The final shot is Cruz's campaign bus driving through a white-light-drenched landscape, followed by the words "TO BE CONTINUED..."

No one ever accused the Canadian-born Texan of lacking chutzpah, and it certainly takes balls to reframe his campaign as a noble, hard-fought crusade on par with the charge of the light brigade. Cruz's political career has been based on naked demagoguery—he's notoriously disliked by his own Senate colleagues, and his main legislative "accomplishment" to date has been helping to shut down the government to force the Democrats to defund Obamacare, a plan that everyone thought would fail, and did.

You'd think that would be a pretty thin résumé for a presidential candidate, but hey, the presumptive GOP nominee is famous mostly for building ugly buildings, going bankrupt, cheating on his wife, and being mean to people on television. In this odd universe, Cruz wound up being the "Establishment" candidate once everyone from Marco Rubio to Jeb Bush had flamed out pitifully—not that that designation helped him beat Donald Trump.

So what, if anything, did Cruz gain from his run for the White House? Normally, a candidate who performed as well as he did among the party's base would be in line for at least some kind of cabinet position if his side won. (For instance, despite the rancor of the 2008 primaries, Barack Obama made Hillary Clinton his first secretary of state.) And Cruz is supposedly on Trump's vice presidential "short list," along with some fellow 2016 candidates and, swear to God, Sarah Palin. But Cruz has carefully refused to even endorse Trump so far. Instead, he's been talking up the importance of the conservative movement in general—that "will be the remnant, will be the core" that can pull "this country back from the abyss," he said on Saturday.

From those comments and the video it seems as if Cruz is shifting back into a familiar role: the outsider thrown into the wilderness by a party that hasn't yet realized that his noble principles are the only thing that will save the GOP, and the entire country, from social justice warriors who want to take your guns and make you go to the bathroom in front of women, or whatever. It's a pretty good spot to be in, if you're Cruz. The fact that the rest of Congress hates you proves your purity, and your every loss is not a setback but a prelude to an inevitable victory.

It's hard not to think of Cruz's little video tribute to himself as anything but a way of reminding people of this narrative. He has no regrets, no doubt, and he's going to be waiting to pick up the pieces when Trump's Republican Party flames out in November. Come 2020, he'll have another four years in the Senate under his belt, another hundred or so chances for publicity stunts that will confirm his conservative bona fides, and the ability to boast that he didn't follow Trump all the way off the cliff like some people he could name. And he'll still be sticking to his number-one principle, which is that he really, really, really wants to be president.

Follow Harry Cheadle on Twitter.

Not the face of a criminal mastermind. THE CANADIAN PRESS/Amber Bracken

After he was arrested for testing positive for meth last week, double murder suspect Travis Vader reportedly shook his head repeatedly from the prisoner's box in court.

But, based on his antics thus far, everyone following Vader's murder trial probably feels much the same.

Vader, 44, is on trial for the murders of Lyle, 78, and Marie McCann, 77, who went missing from the Edmonton area July 3, 2010. Their motorhome and SUV were found but their bodies were never recovered.

His defence is that the couple might not even be dead—a novel theory that no one has had a chance to hear yet in part because Vader keeps fucking up the court process, resulting in delay after delay of his own trial.

One of his primary issues is with tardiness.

A few weeks into his trial, Vader rolled into court two hours late; RCMP had to track him using a GPS device already attached to his ankle as part of his previous bail conditions. He told the judge he'd had car problems, including a faulty spark plug and brake line, followed by a flat tire in his "1988 Ford farm truck." Another day, he said he was late because his ankle-tracker was giving him problems. When he showed up in early April more than an hour late yet again, he offered this explanation:

"I'm sorry your honour for being late this morning. I slept in. The reason I slept in, I'm being evicted from my motel room." He noted that he'd been packing and his alarm failed to go off.

In response, Justice Denny Thomas, warned him to get his shit together.

"I'm asking you don't let it happen again," he said. "You can see the number of people who've been inconvenienced by this, and the effect it has on the pace of the trial."

The endless stream of hold-ups prompted a review of Vader's bail order, but instead of revoking his bail, a judge simply added a couple of extra conditions including random drug testing. Conditions that Vader, evidently, could not follow. Last week he was arrested for testing positive for meth and for reaching out to one of the Crown's witnesses—his former roommate Donald Bulmer.

Vader's journey to trial has been a shit show from Day 1. Murder charges against him were originally stayed in March 2014 because the RCMP failed to disclose all evidence to lawyers, prompting Vader to sue the Mounties twice, claiming their case amounted to a "witch hunt." Then, after he was arrested again in December 2014 for the McCanns' murders, he breached his bail conditions twice in a single month, racking up charges for assault, dangerous operation of a vehicle, and recognizance.

It is alleged that when the McCanns disappeared, he was living in the "bush" having spent all the money ($100,000 in three months) he made working in the oil industry on meth.

The Crown claims Vader used the McCanns' cellphone to send (poorly spelled) texts trying to woo his ex-girlfriend Amber Williams.

"Im having a hard time here babe i need to hold you and miss you i'm all alone no place to live or go no clean cloths im realy missing you my love i realy could use some love right know," he allegedly said, following up with a message claiming his legal troubles would likely be "ok" but that he was "so fucking tiered and hungry."

His attorney Brian Beresh has argued because the McCanns' bodies have not been found, there's reasonable doubt the elderly grandparents are even deceased.

It's not yet clear if the latest blunder will be enough to put Vader back in custody—that decision will likely be determined at a hearing May 18.

While his guilt remains a question, it seems clear that at the very least, he's proven himself to be too incompetent to handle being on bail.

Follow Manisha Krishnan on Twitter.

Luna Cobra. All images by author

I don't have any tattoos. I don't even have my ears pierced, and when I tell Luna Cobra this his eyebrows dart up, scrunching the crescent moon tattoo on his forehead. He suggests I start with ear pointing, or maybe a subtle scleral tattoo that would wash the whites of my eyes a light blue.

In the body modification world, Luna Cobra is a legend. People fly him around the world to split their tongues, place implants under their skin, and tattoo their eyeballs—a technique he invented.

Lately, there's been a lot of nipple and belly button removals he explains, scrolling through photos of recent procedures on his phone. Many people get them because of tattoos, no one wants a nipple poking through their chest piece. "This girl just didn't like her belly button," Luna explains, flipping the phone around to reveal something that looks like an umbilical cord. I realize, it kind of is. "She had an outie," he says.

I'm here to watch a scarification, a procedure where Luna uses a scalpel to cut a design into someone's skin, which will heal and leave a scarred pattern. "It kind of looks like a white ink tattoo," he explains.

Sam, whose chin will soon be pyramid-ed.

The guy getting the scarification done today is Sam, a freehand tattoo artist who tells me he's already had it done three times before. I squint, trying to see where. He lists off his scars: a long cut down the left-hand-side of his face, a triangle under his right eye, and—tipping his head—some crop circles on top, cutting into his own crescent moon tattoo.

He also has an implant in his finger, in the shape of the Southern Cross. I'm not sure if it's a joke.

This time, Luna will be cutting into Sam's chin with a pyramid design. When I ask him if he's nervous, he shakes his head and laughs. It seems like the only thing Sam is worried about is that he told his girlfriend he'd be getting the scarification on his chest. The chin, he promised her, was off limits.

But soon Luna is playing with a pyramid stencil, trying to get the positioning right on Sam's chin, which proves difficult because of the mentolabial sulcus, the groove that dips in below your lower lip before the chin bulges out. Sam squints at his reflection in the mirror, sure the pyramid is flicking out to the left. Luna thinks it's just that his face isn't symmetrical. It looks fine to me, which probably means it's a good thing I'm never going to permanently alter someone's looks.

When they finally get the positioning right, Luna asks Sam to lay down on the bed, as he sets out his tools on a trolley. There's tweezers, gauze, and a scalpel that he's slotting a fresh blade into. Luna tells me that he'll only be cutting into the very superficial layers of skin—only a few millimeters—so there shouldn't be much blood.

He starts with a long incision along the left side of the pyramid. Sam sucks in air, like someone who knew pain was coming but forgot the specific feeling that was about to hit. The mentolabial sulcus, the point of the pyramid, that seems to be the most sensitive part.

Warning: Some graphic images below.

Next, Luna makes a parallel cut just a few millimeters away from the first. At the corners he slices between the two lines, and uses the scalpel and a set of tweezers to tease the flap of skin away. Below there's cherry red—blood, a lot of it. Luna dabs it away with gauze and keeps working.

He's been doing this for decades, first getting into modification back in college in Canada. His brother Aaron—now a famed plastic surgeon in Los Angeles—was his roommate. Body modification was a scene that existed, but it was still very early days. The movement's bible, BMEzine, only launched in 1994. While Luna was studying religion and psychology, he'd pour through anatomy textbooks with his brother's med school friends, inventing new techniques.

Even now Luna, shrouded in tattoos, talks like a med student—dotting his sentences with scientific names. He's strict on himself, even though there aren't regulations that tell him to be, closely following medical procedure guidelines. Body modification exists in a grey zone, it definitely feels like there should be tight laws around what can and can't be done, but really there aren't.

What Luna won't do are nullifications. It's perhaps body modification's most outwardly shocking procedure—people will have their nipples and genitals removed entirely. But wading into the psychology of why someone wants to become essentially a eunuch is a step beyond what he wants to spend his days doing. "I tell them to go to South-East Asia," Luna says, where the procedures are legal and cheaper.

Back on the bed, Luna is cleaning up the final side of Sam's pyramid, running the scalpel along the wound to ensure the line is even and will heal straight. There's an audible sound as the blade passes through the skin. "It's cutting the hair follicles," Luna explains. Sam's chin is streaked with blood. Luna drips pure adrenalin on the wound to cauterize it.

It's only then, maybe half-an-hour in, that I realize it's kind of weird that I'm standing in an empty tattoo studio, watching a stranger get his face cut up. From the outside, body modification seems like this dark, bizarre practice. Up close it's harder to see where that line is between what society deems acceptable, and what is beyond the pale.

Every second person on my tram has a septum piercing. My not having tattoos is enough to raise eyebrows and yet anything on the face, the neck or hands—that's still a step too far? Watching Luna clean up the wound I wonder whether body modification is just the next thing that will be normalized. The more we see it, the less sensational it will become.

Sam is up, squinting at his pyramid in the mirror again. Luna stands at his shoulder, inspecting his work. Both seem happy with it, although I still wonder what Sam's girlfriend is going to think. At least from here it looks straight to me.

Follow Maddison Connaughton on Twitter.

See more of Luna Cobra's work on Instagram.

Read: Watch Three Buddhist Monks Fight in Front of a Temple

We are more than a decade into the 21st century, a fantastical time once imagined to be a utopia of flying firemen and underwater whale buses, but instead brought the world fast-food saunas and unqualified presidential candidates. Nevertheless, this is the year 2016, so one would expect the world to have achieved peak civility and understanding by this point.

It has not.

For proof, just watch the above iPhone video of a bunch of people in Houston, Texas, beating the ever-loving shit out of one another after being overcome by some good, old-fashioned road rage. The recording, released over the weekend by ABC, shows an argument between the drivers and passengers of two cars—a blue truck and a white sedan—which quickly devolves into a mess of fists, kicks, thrown soft drinks, and blood-curdling screams.

Watch the whole brawl unfold above—shot for your twisted viewing pleasure by a bizarrely cool-headed bystander—and silently pine for all that humanity could but never shall be.

Check out Alabaster Pizzo's website, Tumblr, and Twitter.

Illustrations by Alex Jenkins

Living alone is a luxury fewer and fewer of us will get to experience in our 20s and 30s. As the cost of living climbs and wages stay stagnant, the number of millennials with roommates is increasing, according to data published last year by Pew Research Center. More young people are moving back in with their parents, turning to barracks-style living arrangements, or pretending that a wooden box inside someone else's apartment constitutes an adequate living situation.

For the rest of us, there are roommates. Whether you choose to live with a childhood best friend or a random person from Craigslist, you're always rolling the dice on whether or not they'll make your life a living hell for the duration of the lease.

We asked people to tell us about their worst roommates. These shared-space horror stories went well beyond the freshman year rite of passage of having to fake-sleep through someone else masturbating in your room. And if you think you've been the bad roommate in a house or apartment, we can say with near certainty that someone has peed in your shampoo as a petty act of revenge.

JERKED OFF IN MY BED, REPEATEDLY

I used to live in an apartment in Boston with this other dude. One day, I headed for my bedroom after coming home, and as I reached for the knob, the door flew open by itself. Standing before me was my roommate, wearing only a skimpy pair of shorts and glistening with sweat.

He immediately started word vomiting about how his laptop was broken, and he needed to check his email. "All right," I said, as he retreated to his room.

Later that night, when I realized that Safari was open (which I would never use, because I'm not a noob) I checked my browser history. Right there in the history were a ton of videos from CreamPie.com or something like that. Being the Veronica Mars that I am, I found an app that turns your webcam into a security camera. The app detected motion and would start to snap photos from the webcam when someone was in front of the computer.

The next night, I ended up crashing with a friend and didn't return home until late the next day. When I got home, I checked the folder on my computer where photos would appear if motion was detected and... BAM. There was a folder full of pictures of this dude jacking off. With my computer. On my bed.

I didn't know what to do with this information right away, so I didn't say anything until a month later, when he picked a fight with me over something stupid. The fight snowballed into this crazy argument and finally, I just said, "AT LEAST I DIDN'T JERK OFF WITH YOUR COMPUTER ON YOUR BED!"

He kind of froze and told me I was crazy for "making up" something like that, so I told him, "Uh, dude, I have pictures of you doing that." I've never seen someone go silent faster. — Stephen, 29

Related: We Asked Our Former Roommates What It's Like to Live with Us

SET OUR APARTMENT ON FIRE

I was living in New York in a four-bedroom apartment. It was kind of a party house, and my one roommate was this little pot-smoking girl. One night, she left a lit candle on a chair in her room and went out, and a few hours later, I got a call from our neighbor saying there were tons of fire trucks outside our apartment. I went home, and the apartment was on fire.

Her room ended up being the only one that got burned, but the entire apartment—including all of my stuff—was destroyed by water from the fire department putting out the fire. My landlord wouldn't pick up the phone when we tried to call him about it, because he was Hassidic, and it was a Saturday.

Also, she never admitted to it. The fireman had to tell me what happened. — Carol, 30

SIDED WITH MY SEXUAL HARASSER

I studied abroad in Roatan, Honduras, and one of the boys in our group would constantly sexually harass me. Once he even pushed me into a pool while I was wearing a white dress. Nothing was left to the imagination, and I was totally humiliated. He was a D1 baseball player who had attacked other students verbally and threatened to hit me when I confronted him, so I asked my professors to hold him accountable for his actions. They basically called me a tattletale. It was infuriating.

My roommates, one of whom had a crush on this asshole, insisted I was asking for his harassment, even though I had barely spoken to the guy. All of them claimed he was acting out because I was ignoring him. They made their case about my so-called role in the situation at dinner in front of our whole class, within earshot of our professor. I excused myself from dinner and went straight back to our bungalow and peed in their shampoo for exacerbating a humiliating experience and basically perpetuating rape culture instead of standing behind a fellow chick. —Christy, 28

SHIT ALL OVER OUR ROOM

I lived with a random roommate my freshman year of college. We weren't great friends, but she was nice, and the first few months of our living situation were pretty civil.

One Thursday evening, we pregamed a bit in the dorm together and then went out to different parties. When I came back to our room that evening, our door was unlocked, all the lights were on, the TV was blaring, and my roommate was facedown on her bed, wearing just a T-shirt, with black vomit strewn across her pillow. She was naked from the waist down, and what could only be human feces had trickled down the backs of her legs and onto the bottoms of her feet. There was even more shit all over the carpet and in the recycling bin. (At least she tried to clean it up?) I slowly shut the door thinking, I am not prepared to deal with this.

I grabbed the RA on our floor, who called an ambulance. My roommate woke up and spent the night in the hospital. I, on the other hand, spent the rest of the night trying to clean the room with two very brave friends. Around four in the morning, while we were still gagging on the smell of human waste, a man in a hazmat suit showed up to my room with industrial strength cleaning products and told me to give him my keys for the night. I slept on a friend's floor down the hall, woke up to go to my midterm the next day, and when I came back to my room, it was as good as new. By way of apology, my roommate left me a bag of M&Ms on my bed with a note that said, "Thanks for being a great roommate!" Chocolate did not seem appetizing after what had happened. — Lauren, 24

BLASTED Bon Jovi every morning

My freshman year roommate would wake up every day—even Sundays—at 5 AM to blare Van Halen and Bon Jovi while he studied for exams over a month away. —Paul, 29

STOLE MY CLOTHES, HAD SEX IN MY BED

During college, I moved into a house with my five best friends. We quickly started behaving like the unsupervised 19-year-olds that we were—punching holes in the walls on a nightly basis, drawing a mural of LeBron James riding an elephant in black sharpie on the wall of our living room, and so on.

One time, I returned to our apartment around 9 AM on a weekday to grab a textbook from my room, and opened my door to find my room completely disheveled, a half-full pizza box upside-down on my rug, and my roommate and his girlfriend ass-naked in my bed. His own bedroom was just down the hall. I started locking my room after that. — Chris, 24

COOKED KETAMINE IN MY FRYING PAN

I had a roommate who kept using my frying pan to cook ketamine. There was only one pan in the house, and every time I wanted to use it, it would either be in his bedroom or in the kitchen full of drugs. Eventually, my other roommate bought a pan that the ketamine-cooker wasn't allowed to use, and the original pan became his dedicated ketamine pan. — Mario, 27

Some names have been changed to prevent roommate retribution.

Follow Justin Caffier on Twitter.