Kats are funny, correct?

Incorrect, "cats" is spelled wrong.

Incorect, incorrect is spelled wrong.

Bright eyes. (from Total Eclipse of the Heart)

Lopsided bear. (from Lopsided Bear)

Thomas. (from Thomas the train)

Thine shall pass | Quizalize

“On this night, we share a roof protecting us from fleets of inequity. Our unification promises a better tomorrow. Those larger than myself, sitting on their marble thrones, sipping blood from cups composed of human skin and singing songs of so-called virtue, grow weaker each moment. Their caravans are revolting. There is hope yet. There is progress! Though tonight may mark a countdown, it is still a celebration. Look at all we have done, not just for Trials but for Palatium Infra as a whole. In four years, when I’m no longer Sovereignty, the Spoiled Purity and his people will continue to strive. So drink! Smoke! Crush up those exotic plants and snort them! We will not falter, weaken, or wane. Our influence is expanding, and somebody new opens their eyes every day. Even the Silbys of Aculeus have reached alarming potentials despite their embittered minds. So long as you relish in tonight, dance, and pray to your “dead” Gods, our revolution shall rise beyond the bounds of class, and when I’m only a commoner, we shall rise again beyond our brainwashed adversaries! Cheers, my people. Cheers!” Followers raised their cups. Some clinked theirs together. Others stood still and screamed breathlessly in agreement. I smiled with courtesy, then stepped off my platform. My voice still rang across the cellar. Speeches before were grander. Those displays were supposed to be emptying, and yet this one left me bloated, swollen tight. I watched as they popped the corks of their bottles and chanted in the name of Purity. Maybe the quality of my words wasn’t what mattered to them anyway, so long as I screamed loud enough. There’s no merit in attacking your people, a voice corrected me. “That’s right,” I said aloud. “Knox, my-my Sovereign!” squealed a nearby devotee, jittering as he stuffed his face with catered pastries. He was one I’d never seen before or had failed to remember. “Look what I’ve found! It’s wine, and not the shoddy Infran kind, either. Earth-made with good fruit! I don’t know how anyone managed to get their hands on this. Maybe some space travel mischief.” He giggled and held up a small glass bottle. “How neat.” “I want you to have it, Sir.” I nodded my head. “Yes, of course. Thank you.” Backing off into the midst of rowdy disciples, I clutched the bottle. What a waste of grapes. It could have been jam instead. Earthly food had a superior taste, ripe with delicate intricacies and nostalgia, but Palatium Infra had mastered the art of alcohol. Why waste your time with a drunkenness so sad and sickening? The booze of trash. Not many more followers approached me. The barren peroration must have upset them. My hands itched to submerge into my suit pockets, and my legs stood suddenly numb, wobbling. Four more years until I’m nothing. But tonight, you are nothing. “Shut up,” I told myself. Tightly packed together in the corner of the dwelling sat the Sibyls. A mound of writhing fabric and tones of skin made up their unified silhouette. I snapped the strap of the nearest gown, balancing on my hands and knees, waving the bottle before them. In their almost rodent nature, narrow noses prodded my way. Their dresses wrinkled and fell to their ankles. Knees dropped, and eyes widened. Many grumbled at me like hungry she-beasts. Those newer ones with faded curtains for hair, sunken eyes, and dirtied nails looked, hid their face, then sobbed. I imagined them in a pack together, fighting wildly against the Spoiled Purity in their rat decorum–biting down with square teeth laced with rabies. “I’ve got you all something,” I said. “Go back off to your pedestal and yap some more. We don’t want it.” A woman rose from the pile and spat. “You don’t even know what it is yet. It's Earth hooch, or more likely a near-flawless replica. I figured you girls would also like a chance to enjoy yourselves tonight.” “Your playmates have been harassing us since the moment you hung the banners and opened the cellar door.” The youngest, with a striking cyan mop upon her head, uncoiled from the mass. What was she now? 20, 21? We celebrated a birthday recently, I thought as she spun around me. “I remember something about a promise. Multiple promises, actually. Are you trying to bribe us into just shutting up and taking it? Because if another sticky, 40-year-old, Earth-born virgin gropes my shoulder, I’m going to have an aneurysm!” the girl continued. “Why not an Infran follower? Do you like it when they touch you?” I returned her accusing tone. “I’m sorry, sweet prophets, that you feel I’ve neglected my duties. I’ll keep a better eye out. Remember, you can always just holler if somebody is bothering you. And Anwen, friend, if I’ve ever tried to bribe you with anything, it was certainly the hair dye. I mean, look at you! Such handsomeness!” I exclaimed. The other Siblys began to encircle her, uttering compliments or even announcements of their envy. Anwen disappeared in a wink with flushed cheeks back into the mound. “I’ll just leave this here.” Smiling, I set down the bottle. ** “141, 143. . .” I counted each step as I trekked the staircase. There was no doubt I lost track somewhere. The ledges kept spawning under my feet, infinitely multiplying until I wasn’t moving at all–swallowing me up in a whirlpool of stone. My tie still hung around my neck, and my blazer remained tied around my hips as a skirt. Streaks of red dribbled off from the cavity in my chest. It was a gorgeous marking, sensual to my fingertips as I traced its edges. Purity, oh, Purity. Purity and his wings of burnt skin. Purity and his many faces. Purity the spoiled. Purity the mutilated. The Silbys did not bother waiting for me. On bare feet, they stormed up the stairs to their room. A trail of red, though in paint unlike mine, streamed after them. None looked remotely near me as they squeaked and gossiped intangibly. I saved them, those Infran broads, enlightened them. As much as they liked to deny it, spit at me, and bask in the thought of their victimhood, in this home, they stood empowered. You’ve done well, my thoughts affirmed, though in the manner of an insincere commentator rather than a hype man. Teeth grace in tile violin goes laundry paper when. It dissolved into an intruding drivel. I rubbed my head and sniveled. “Do you need help, Knox?” called a Silby. Fattened by my coddling, her shadow fell upon me from the doorway steps ahead. I attempted counting again. There must’ve been at least another hundred between me and her. “I’m hallucinating some,” I said, breathing deeply to suppress a burp as I struggled to recall her name. Two syllables. Typically Latin, though sometimes English. Drops of slobber leaked from my mouth. “I’m hallucinating some, Tybal. Do you like your name, Tybal? I would have named you something better. Ty-Tyballinia. No, we’d have to eliminate the ‘ball’ aspect. It sounds too crude.” “One foot in front of the other,” she said. So I walked. Mess greeted me at the doorway. Dirtied culinary obscured the dark wooden countertops, and the sink lay running. I approached the kitchen table, sat, and set my face down upon its cool wooden surface. Assaulting my nose was the smell of neglected flowers, like soil mixed with the kind of sweet cough medicine that would have left me gagging as a child. Open windows whispered songs of the twilight hour through the vessels of busy trolleys and shooting guns. My mouth strained to vomit, but there was nothing in my stomach to regurgitate except the petals of Stulto’s bloom, which came out effortlessly in little sputters. Teetering, I stood up and brushed disgorged plant parts off the tabletop. “Love,” I said as I slogged up yet another staircase. “Are you awake?” She said she’d wait. Somebody’s gotten her. No, she always misses movie night. That sleepyhead, I assured myself. There was a stirring amidst the manor’s cloak of dusk. Portraits of myself, my wife, and my daughter turned to face me as the hallway lights flickered, escaping their quartz frames to penetrate my ears with nonsense. The taxidermied heads of Infran creatures bared their teeth. I stopped to stare at my favorite, an adabactor with daunting spiked tusks poking out from its forehead. Its nose remained black and sharp, and its eyes wide with malice. “Where is my Spes, Adaba-boy? Is she sleepy?” There’s someone in the house. The sounds of the stirring rose along with my blood pressure. Footsteps orbited around me, drawing near and far and then near again, little dancers in the dark. The carpet immersed me in its mass of purples and blues, leaving my skin stained indigo and my vision abstracted. I toiled to reach the master bedroom across the aisle as it stretched out to me with bright lights and celestial howling, like a dove struggling in a pool of oil. Never again with Stulto’s bloom. Never again on what was already a bad night. My hand brushed the doorknob, and the high abruptly faded into only a persistent hum-buzz twirling around my brain. The portraits returned to their typical depression–Spes posing with her ax, Ari’s school photo, and myself in the cap I wore when addressing the military with the Verbis emblem embroidered in its center. All lifeless shots. Who were they for when they captured not the subject’s essence but only some fragment of their identity? They used to feel personal, not advertisements of some supposed characters. Servants, babysitters, and likewise civilian guests, I reminded myself, mustn’t forget whose home they’re in. Yet my body moved independently, taking Ari’s from its hook and laying it backward against the wall to hide her distant grin and tamed posture. It was time for new pictures. Sweet ones, real ones; time was ticking. I approached my own when the stirring began again. Groans and squeals erupted from the vents as if someone had set a pen of pigs loose in my crawlspace. No, not the crawlspace, my bedroom door. I turned the ruby knob. Underneath a blanket wrestled my two squealing piglets, their skins melting together beneath the layer of duvet. Fishnet leggings and manicured nails outstretched and scraped at the sheet beneath them. One raised its head, a salmon-colored man with sweat running down his forehead. Through the crack in the door, we met eyes, his Infran Dr. Sesuss nose flaring its narrow nostrils. No mark of the Spoiled Purity existed carved onto his naked body. My chest felt tight. I stepped back. I was suffocating. Spes emerged from the linens, her hair flowing down her back and her dark skin glistening in front of the bedroom window. She giggled and held the man, the blanket falling and revealing inches of her body I had not seen in months. “Darling,” whispered the rosy-faced man, “look.” He was unfathomably ugly and grotesquely young, with beady, lifeless pupils that dilated when he faced me. The excess flesh on his face sagged while he bit down on his thin lips. My wife faced me, gasped, and strained to cover herself. Suddenly, I was a stranger. A small child who had walked into his parents having sex. I unfurled the door completely. “Get out of my house,” I said. The man stayed in place. “Get out of my house,” I repeated. “Knox,” Spes began. Tears ran down her round cheeks. “Shut up!” I turned to the man, picking up a marble trophy from on top of my dresser. “Get out of my house! I’ll kill you!” “Knox!” Spes sobbed. “God damn it! I hate you! You barely look at me. Every day, there’s less passion. God, God, God, I don’t want to fuck a dead man!” she screamed, “You get out! Get! Get!” My hands wrapped tighter around the statue. That pig of a man was attached to her at the side, his face equipped with a scowl that challenged mine. He thought I was weak; frail like a decaying dementia-ridden senior. I imagined his skull bashed in, his scowl gone, and the feist and confidence in his face beaten into numbness. A new portrait was in order of such brutality, him as a splintered slab of wood, rashed and beaten, a carcass licking my boot. The churning in my brain had come back. Every wall shook. Clock faces came to life and rang in alarm. Indescribable noises caressed my eardrum before breaking into sorrowful weeps. Was it my own? I stared at Spes in motionless frenzy, clenched my teeth, and screamed like a siren. Passionless. What a lie! An excuse, more like. One that erased all my ventures, reducing me to a nobody. But I was not a nobody. I thought of my sect, my campaigns, my endurance through the political brutality of my empty hive-mind world–even my collection of literature, maps, and artifacts. I thought of daring nights alone with Spes when we were young, ravaging each other, two sardonic eggheads suddenly overcome with desire. The veins in my neck throbbed as I gasped for air. It was all I had. I threw the figurine at the man’s head. Eye shut, I heard the thud. A million singing voices of victory flooded out of the cracks in the floorboard. Proving myself a man to the woman I loved in a display of fervent violence was passion. I strained my ears for his cries, though I did not look yet. There had to be a pause, a moment of relief, where I stood tall as a skyscraper and seemingly fought to stay contained in front of my wife and her wounded, quivering paramour. Frantic footsteps rushed off the bed and past my side. I turned and grappled against myself to seize my wife’s shoulder. “Spes!” My eyelids lifted. Escaping was the man with that same numb expression in which I had imagined him. “You’re insane,” he said. I swiveled back towards the bed. With her curly locks flowing over her breasts and her limbs bent at her sides, Spes sat limp pressed against the headboard, her forehead bludgeoned and the statue resting on her stomach. Lips pursed and sweet, my Renaissance beauty reclined there in the guise of a squashed bug. But she was not dead. The desk ornament I flung was only the size of my shoe. Spes, that dramatist, may have been slightly hurt but was far from dead. She only wanted me to think she was to observe me at my most distraught, like a leech feeding on misery. “Get up.” Staggering toward the bed, I said. “You wanted passion? I showed you passion. ‘Shoved it right into your head. Of course, we both know who that gesture was meant for. . .” I fumbled to find my wit. Cold skin met my hands as I stroked her face, unable to resist checking her pulse, even though she was not dead. “I love you, Spes,” I said. Rain pelted against a nearby window. “Spes, please. Please.” No vibration answered my plea. I lifted my hand, sitting next to her now. Tears did not come. There was not any blood on the trophy, but when I picked it up, it felt to be now only a cruel instrument. It depicted a younger me in white marble, with my glasses and collared shirt being the only things painted. Both were in pink. It was a favorable color. I scrambled from the bed to vomit pure digestive bile on the rug. My stomach heaved. I ran my nails along every piece of myself I saw, a dog chasing my tail. As I slammed myself against walls and convulsed, my own heart grew ever louder in my chest. “Dad? I heard–” Ari’s slippered feet hammered across the floor. “Mom? Mom?” I kept my eyes on the storm. Silence fell. “She-She isn’t—your—.” Gasps interrupted every syllable she spoke. “You’re a murderer. Bad. Like they said,” she breathed, “ You beat her!” The words became mush, alphabet soup. Ari ran back down the hall. “My-My mom is dead. . . .Yes. . . Manor of the Trials Sovereignty. . .Ari Sorkin. . . I’m afraid he’s going to hurt me,” she said, presumably over the phone. It was all too fast. I crawled onto the windowsill, opened the glass, and let myself plummet into the alley below. Gusts of wind howled. The lack of motion or sensation informed me I had passed and again lived. Another Palatium Infra, another strange planet in which the celestial endowed rotting men with the opportunity to inhabit. Was this it? Was it all just an impossible limbo of galactic traveling? My surroundings were overwhelmingly gray, an abyss of clouds. Perhaps I had now met the real coming world, and my family and old friends lived here, ready to rush to my sides, lift me up, and jump for joy. Spes would be there. She would be enraged, but at least she’d be there. You are a bad man. You are a bad man. My eyelashes fluttered. There was a tugging sensation in my leg. The fog was wavering along with my ascendance. “No,” I yearned, trying to grip the clouds and stick them in place. “Stay with me.” But the peace was fleeting. I felt the cement under me and the moist garments clinging to my figure. My leg burned. Carefully, I craned my neck, only to observe the promenade as my surroundings. The most underwhelming of filth and danger, individually Infran. Forever my coming world. What a fool I was, having forgotten my blessing. Those idiot Gods could not tell the difference between assassination and self-infliction; a faulty insurance plan. The urge to cry at last set over me, and so I sat and wailed hot salvia into my palm, shielding my mouth to muffle the noise. Thunder echoed my hushed howling. Raindrops turned to pebbles. Under the ambiance of the stormy night, I could have sworn I heard troops stomping, guns cocking, and the chanting of my name. They had all been waiting for this. Billboards came to life, and I could only sit and spectate as the scenery flashed red. I inhaled fear and sobriety through runny nostrils. “Trials Sovereign Vsevolod “Knox” Sorkin is currently at large for the suspected homicide of Spes Sorkin, breaking the first term of the Sovereignty Charter. We now instruct you to report any sightings of the Earth-born, caucasian, roughly 195 centimeters tall, brown-haired, and brown-eyed man to your local Guard post. One can identify the suspected convict specifically by an occult tattoo of Purity’s Coronet on his lower back. No attempted execution or elongated punishment will take place until our Guards conduct an autopsy proving his guilt, per Life’s 1238 commandment. We cannot be sure when or if the Gods will revoke his blessing. Remember, when Gods frown upon strife, opt for a peaceful life. We permit all grieving festivities until Cagidus 4th. Good year!” towering buildings sang out in broadcast, repeating that same convoluted message quicker the instant it ended. Sometimes, the announcer spoke in Latin for the Infran children, other times in Chinese, Hindi, or Spanish to cater to those of irrelevant tongues. You aren’t a bad man. You are a stupid boy. Puddles sloshed. Somebody was approaching. I didn’t dare waste any remaining energy avoiding the Guards and their prodding blades. How did that phrase go? You dug your grave. Now lie in it. And so I embraced the cement. “Knox?” said the Guard. No, her tone was too sincere, and no authority would proceed in such a manner. There wasn’t confirmation on whether or not I was armed, and it wasn’t as if she could shoot me first. She was a partygoer, having just left from the cellar’s backdoor. I shooed her away with my hand. She hovered, and I discerned her shadow hesitating over my body. A man could not rot in peace. “Come on, get up! They’re after you!” Hands reached around my torso, struggling to handle my weight as they urged me onto my feet. That leg, the burning one, my right, trembled and bent unnaturally upon impact with the ground. The partygoer slung my arm over her shoulder, balancing me. My eyes caught a glimpse of a cyan mop. “Anwen?” I rasped, “hu-who let you out?” Keys jangled in her hands–my keys. “I escaped,” she said casually, coercing me to walk beside her. “Quicken your pace. I just heard somebody on your front porch. ‘You see that compost bin down the alley? We’re gonna burrow right down into the depth of that. If they open it and uncover us, I’ll be on top, and I can hide you and act like I’m just a homeless amica trying to take a nap.” With a tightening grip, she led me like livestock to the stinking crate. “I don’t understand, Anwen,” I said. “They’re going to torture and kill you, stupid. You know they’ve been wanting to, and you just handed the opportunity to them!” “I understand that.” It was becoming increasingly challenging to hide the fragility emerging in my voice. “You said you were escaping. Why stop and help your captor?” “What else could I do? Leave you there?” Attempts to shove my wounded body inside its mass of discarded fruits and vegetables began. She yanked down upon my head and submerged me in the fertilizer sea. The evidence grows indisputable, I thought as I stared at the abruptly humane Infran girl, diving in after me, that I belong here. “Damn me to hell! I’ve killed her! My love is dead!” an uncontrollable cry leaped from my mouth. “Shut up! Soon you’ll be, too, if you don’t quiet down.” The actual noise of the Guards darted past us: disorientated marching, guns clanking against each other, cluttered belts rattling, the Latin squawking. One paused to open the bin’s lid, though only rummaged through the surface layer of peat before carrying on. “What are they talking about? I struggle with my Latin,” I whispered. “The search, mainly.” Aggression remained firey in Anwen’s clenched jaw. Though she sat on top of me, there was a monumental distance between our rain-soaked forms. I curled up into a ball, ducked my head between my knees, and dreamt of Spes, ignoring the stench of spoiled food rising from every crevice of my dwelling. The next coming world was due to adopt me again as I forced sleep. I prayed for a canyon of fluffy haze, where I waltzed with pale memories but found nothing but the petrifying stillness of my mind. Killed and ran. Violent as a Guard just to prove a point and watch it backfire. Why would any heaven want to welcome me? I clung to the picture of Spes in my head like it was the last ember of an extinguished flame. “Did you mean to kill her?” Anwen interrogated. “Someone like you would immutably believe yes.” “And who is someone like me? You can’t even treat me like a person for a moment, can you?” grating drama decorated her words. “You know my opinions. I have not seen much of your or your breed’s faces besides that of cruelty and ignorance.” I retorted. “I just saved you! Does that make me cruel and ignorant?” “It makes you an idiot, which is another word for somebody ignorant.” “And why am I an idiot?” She asked. “Because you helping me does no good. Thank you anyhow. Now, do yourself a favor and scram.” As she bent her leg in anticipation, preparing to strike me on the forehead, I sensed an invisible withdrawal widening the gap between us. “You never answered my question,” Anwen took me by the end of my tattered tie suddenly and started her game of shepherd and sheep over again, pulling me back up to the crate’s exit. It appeared as a shining light at the end of a maze of rubbish and mold. “No. Of course not. Spes was my everything,” I sniffled. “I knew it. You couldn’t even bring yourself to hit us, let alone murder your wife. The girls and I always figured you were sensitive.” My heart rate quickened. Today was one of humbling and misery–one to pray a hail spike would fall from the sky as sharp as a needle, pierce into my eyelid, and lobotomize me. I wished I could have merely died or hit my head hard enough not to have to deal with it all. No, I wished I was Anwen with her snarky, careless glow and lack of depth in her eyes. As we emerged from the compost bin together, I fantasized about strangling her until her face turned purple, her weakening spirit no longer categorizing me as “sensitive”, but the thought could only remind me of wielding that trophy and the microscopic traces of my wife’s tender skin tainting it, which turned my guts inside out. “That’s why I think you could use a little help,” Anwen said, “It seems like you can’t walk, either. Your leg is all twisted up.” She undid one of her trim pigtails and handed me the band. “Take off your tie and put up your hair. ‘Will make you less recognizable. Then swallow your pride and stick with me.”

Yaama I'm Jack Evans and you're watching BTN. Here's what's coming up. We uncover the story behind this famous photo, learn about First Nations seasons and find out the history of Book Week. What is Statehood? Reporter: Tatenda Chibika INTRO: But first, the Prime Minister Anthony Albanese has announced that Australia will join other countries in recognising Palestine as an independent state. So, what does that mean? Tatenda found out. Anthony Albanese, Prime Minister: Australia will recognise the state of Palestine. Australia will recognise the right of the Palestinian people to a state of their own. We will work with the international community to make this right a reality. Tatenda Chibika, Reporter: That's the moment our Prime Minister said Australia would recognise Palestine as an independent state at the upcoming United Nations General assembly next month. It's something other countries, including France and Canada, have said they'll be doing too. So, what does that mean exactly? To be considered an independent state under international law a place needs to have its own land or territories with defined borders, it needs to have people who permanently live there, have a working government and it has to be able to talk and make deals with other countries. Once a place meets all those rules, it can ask to be recognised by other independent states and countries. But a big step in becoming an independent state is being fully recognised by the United Nations. To do that you first need to get approval from at least nine members of the UN's Security Council. That's a group of countries responsible for maintaining international peace and security. But even then, that tick of approval can still be blocked by one of the Security Council's five permanent members Russia, China, the UK, the US and France. If the Security Council approves, the decision then goes to the UN's General Assembly where at least two thirds of the UN's 193 members have to agree to make it official. Yeah, it's a pretty complex process which is why we've only seen a handful of countries recognised by the UN in recent years like South Sudan and Montenegro. Others like Kosovo are only 'partially' recognised which means they have some recognition but not enough to become a full member state at the UN. Right now, Palestine is recognised by more than 140 countries — that's more than two thirds of the UN General Assembly. So, why hasn't it become a UN member state yet? Well, it came pretty close last year when 12 members of the Security Council voted in favour of it. VANESSA FRAZIER, AMBASSADOR OF MALTA, APRIL 2024 UNSC PRESIDENT: I shall now put the draft resolution to the vote. But the US, a close ally to Israel, used its special powers to block Palestine from becoming a member state. VANESSA FRAZIER: Those against? At the time, the U.S said Palestine and Israel needed to come to an agreement on their own first. Throughout the years, there have been attempts to figure out a way for both Palestine and Israel to exist peacefully alongside each other but that hasn't happened yet. And now Israel has said that recognising Palestine as an independent state would be rewarding Hamas the group in charge of Gaza which was responsible for the terror attacks on October 7th, 2023. But the Palestinian Authority which governs parts of the West Bank says Hamas won't have a role in any future state of Palestine which will exist peacefully alongside Israel. Australia, like the US, had previously said that it wanted Israel and Palestine to figure out things by themselves first but because of how the war has been going the Australian government is worried that if it continues to wait, there might not be a Palestinian state to recognise. ANTHONY ALBANESE, PRIME MINISTER: There has been too many lives lost, both Israeli's and Palestinians and the world is saying we need a solution to this conflict, we need to end the cycle of violence and the way to do that is to have a two-state solution. News Quiz Russia's President Vladimir Putin stepped foot on American Soil for the first time in a decade to meet with US President Donald Trump. What state did they meet in? Alabama, Alaska or Arizona?It's Alaska. The two leaders met to discuss a way to end the war in Ukraine but weren't able to make any final agreements. DONALD TRUMP, US PRESIDENT: There were many, many points that we agreed on. Most of them, I would say, a couple of big ones, that we haven't quite got there, but we've made some headway. There's no deal until there's a deal. A lot of people criticised the two world leaders for not including Ukraine's president Volodymyr Zelenskyy in the meeting. But that didn't seem to worry Mr Trump who said the meeting was a success and Mr Putin even invited the US President to meet up again in Russia. DONALD TRUMP: We'll see you again very soon. Thank you very much, Vladimir. VLADIMIR PUTIN, RUSSIAN PRESIDENT: Next time in Moscow. DONALD TRUMP: Oh, that's an interesting one. No, no, no. I'll get a little heat on that one. Last week thousands of people marked the 80th anniversary of VJ Day. What does VJ Day commemorate? The victory of Allied forces in Europe, the surrender of Japan and the end of World War II or the dropping of the first atomic bomb? VJ Day or Victory over Japan day commemorates the surrender of Japan and the end of World War II on the 15th of August 1945. Around the world, and here in Australia, people marked the anniversary with ceremonies remembering those who fought in the war. REPORTER: Who will you be remembering today? VETERAN: Oh, a lot of fellows that I knew that never made it home. Scientists in the UK have created toothpaste that includes which of these ingredients? Hair, eye lashes or fingernails? Yeah, they're all a bit random and gross but the answer is hair. According to scientists from King's College in London, hair could be the key to good oral health because it contains a protein called Keratin which they say when mixed with saliva forms a crystal-like protective coating similar to enamel. And Swifties rejoice because Taylor Swift has announced her 12th Studio album. It's called life of a show what? Is it show pony, show girl or show bag? It's Life of a Showgirl and it'll be released October 3rd. Vincent Lingiari Reporter: Joseph Baronio INTRO: Now to this very famous photograph. It was taken 50 years ago and depicts a really significant moment in Australian history. Joe found out about the story behind it. On the 16th of August 1975, this famous photo was taken. It shows the former Prime Minister Gough Whitlam pouring sand into the hand of Aboriginal leader Vincent Lingiari. A simple gesture that symbolised handing the land at Wave Hill in the Northern Territory back to the Gurindji people. But the journey to get there was far from simple. It started back in the 1960s. At the time, Wave Hill was the biggest cattle station in the world, controlled by British landowner Lord Vestey. The Gurindji people, who had lived on the land for generations, worked for Vestey, but they weren't paid fairly, and conditions were tough. NEWS REPORTER: The station's 100 aboriginal stockmen, with their 100 dependents, are camped in the dry bed of the Victoria River with little shade from 90-degree heat, dust and flies. Eventually, Gurindji leader Vincent Lingiari said it was time to act. VINCENT LINGIARI: I said, "What was it before Lord Vestey born and I was born?" It was blackfella country. So, on August 23rd, 1966, Mr Lingiari and his fellow Aboriginal workers went on strike. It became known as the Wave Hill Walk Off. They moved their camp away from the Wave Hill station to a sacred site called Daguragu on Wattie Creek. They wanted to set up their own cattle station, and said they wouldn't move until their land was returned to them. For years, petitions and negotiations went on between the Gurindji people, the NT Administration, and the Australian Government in Canberra. CLAPPERS: 31. 32. 33. DAVID QUINN, ABSCOL: Well, it's basic justice that their land is recognised. PROTESTORS: Equal rights! As the news spread across the country, thousands of Aussies joined the campaign, including the leader of the Labor Party, Gough Whitlam, who made this promise during his 1972 election campaign. GOUGH WHITLAM: We will legislate to give Aborigines land rights. Not just because their case is beyond argument, but because all of us as Australians are diminished, while the Aborigines are denied their rightful place in this nation. Later that year, Gough Whitlam became Prime Minister. (Song From Little Things Big Things Grow, Song by Kev Carmody and Paul Kelly, 1993) From little things big things grow,from little things big things grow… But it wasn't until 1975, 9 years after the Wave Hill Walk Off started, that he followed through with his promise. Eight years went by, eight long years of waiting'Til one day a tall stranger appeared in the landAnd he came with lawyers and he came with great ceremony GOUGH WHITLAM: I solemnly hand to you these deeds as proof in Australian law that these lands belong to the Gurindji people. And through Vincent's fingers poured a handful of sandFrom little things big things grow 50 years on, and The Wave Hill Walk Off is seen as a pivotal moment in Australia's history. It led to significant legal and social changes for First Nations people, which is something many agree is worth celebrating. First Nations Seasons Reporter: Saskia Mortarotti INTRO: Recently, Melbourne's Lord Mayor suggested ditching the four-season calendar that most of us are familiar with and adopting a six-season Wurundjeri calendar instead saying it gives a better description of what the weather's actually like there. Sas found out more about the different seasonal calendars used by First Nations people. SASKIA MORTAROTTI, REPORTER: Right now, in most of the country, it's pretty cold. COLD GIRL: Think of somewhere warm. What? It's 32 degrees in Darwin in the middle of winter? But ah, yeah. There are some places where it's, well, quite warm. Which makes you wonder whether the weather actually matches the seasons. You see, Australia is pretty big, and we have lots of different weather patterns. Which is something First Nations people have tracked for thousands of years with their own seasonal calendars. KARL WINDA TELFER, CULTURAL CREATIVE KANYANYAPILLA: Why have we got four seasons when you know that don't make any sense here. It doesn't relate to the country here. This is Karl Telfer. He's an artist and storyteller who produced the Kuri Kurru exhibition at the Museum of Discovery in Adelaide that explores the 6 different seasons of the Kaurna Meyunna. SASKIA MORTAROTTI: So, how do you know when you're in one of those six seasons? KARL WINDA TELFER: Well, there are stars that rise. So, you know, there are certain stars, like in Parnatti, for example. There's a star called Parna, and we know what that star is. So, that talks to us about, okay, the time now is going to be cold on the ground. First Nations calendars like the Kaurna one don't just tell us what's happening with the weather; they're also used to track when certain plants and animals are around. KARL WINDA TELFER: It teaches you about what plants you can, you know, what you can eat what you can't and all that what is ready certain times a year and fruit everything, bird shows you the right time to eat the fruit, perfect time, if you try and go get them the next week they're gone. Karl says we can also use these calendars to see how the environment has changed over time. KARL WINDA TELFER: Kudlilla is the season we're in now and Kudlilla that talks about like the rain but we're not having enough rain these days, well, these times. And this is due to climate and the climate changing. There are many different First Nations seasonal calendars around the country. Like Ngan'gi calendar from the Northern Territory which has 13 seasons that follow the life cycle of the native spear grass. Or the Wurundjeri Calendar in Victoria which has 6 seasons. And recently, Melbourne's Lord Mayor, Nicholas Reece, said Melbourne, or Naarm, would be better off adopting the Wurundjeri calendar because it's more in tune to what's happening with the weather. Something many, including Karl, think we should be doing right across the country. KARL WINDA TELFER: I'm talking about the English four seasons. So, this is totally different systems that we're talking about and weather patterns and currents and all sorts of different things, because it's the sea country too. So, my question is, well, why do we have that? If that doesn't work, you know? Quiz How many seasons are there in the Tiwi Island Calendar? 1, 2 or 3? It's 3, although they also have 13 minor seasons. Book Week Reporter: Wren Gillett INTRO: This week, kids across Australia have been dressing up as their favourite characters to celebrate Book Week. Wren finds out why Book Week began 80 years ago and why it's still important today for getting young Aussies into reading. STUDENT: I read an hour every night, maybe even two hours some nights. STUDENT: My favourite book series are the Harry Potter series and the Keeper of the Lost City series. STUDENT: Probably Bad Guys and Weirdo. STUDENT: I like the Amulet, I've been reading that. STUDENT: I love reading Dork Diaries and Exploding Endings. Whether it's Fantasy, mystery, history — whatever you're into. Book week is a time to celebrate, well, books. STUDENT: Me and my friends are dressing up as Inside Out. STUDENT: I was thinking SpongeBob. STUDENT: I'm dressing up as Winnie the Pooh and it's just a fun way to express what kind of books you like. And guess what, book week has actually been a thing for many, many years. WREN GILLETT, REPORTER: Once upon a time, in a land not so far away, literacy lovers noticed a problem. The year was 1945. The second World War had just ended, and kids were mainly reading books from overseas, in particular the UK. Because, at the time, there weren't many Aussie authors writing books for children. WREN GILLETT: So, a group of passionate teachers, librarians, booksellers, publishers, and book-loving volunteers, decided to create what we now know as The Children's Book Council of Australia. Familiar logo, right? Together, they launched book week, all in an effort to get Aussie kids' reading more. And it seemed to work. The 1960s saw a boom in Australian children's books being published. REPORTER: How many books do you read a week? STUDENT: Well, it really depends on the week. If there's exams, I might read only one or two. But if there's no exams and if I've got plenty of time, I might read up to five or six. WREN GILLETT: But today, it's a slightly different story. Studies show that less than one in five eight to 18-year-olds are reading in their free time, and that only one in three actually enjoy reading for fun. WREN GILLETT: Why do you reckon we're seeing this trend? STUDENT: People are getting sucked into screens and they're like spending hours just scrolling through TikTok and stuff, and they're getting so attached to it that they don't feel the need to pick up books and read them. Yeah, there's a lot of different things competing for our attention these days, but many think books are still worth our time. PETER HELLIER, AUSSIE COMEDIAN AND AUTHOR: Books are the exact opposite of boring. And if you think they're boring, I'm sorry, but you're wrong. This is Peter Hellier, he's a pretty famous Aussie comedian, actor, and the author behind these books. And he's just released another one called Detective Galileo, about a trail horse who dreams of solving crimes. PETER HELLIER: He joins the police force and quickly finds out that the horses don't actually solve the crimes, it's the police officers who solve the crime. So he promptly gets thrown out of the force and begins his own detective agency, which I'm reliably told is the only detective agency in the world run by a horse. Peter actually started writing books when he was a kid. PETER HELLIER: I started writing when I was six, seven, eight years old. In fact, I started my own publishing company called Better Books. And I would write these books, and then I would get a parent or one of my parents or teachers to type them up. And I would read them in front of the class. And, you see, each has the logo, the Better Books logo, there it is — the famous Better Books logo. WREN GILLETT: You weren't mucking around. PETER HELLIER: There all on all of them. There we go. There we go. Many, Including Peter, say there's plenty to get from a good book. They help us learn new words and phrases, get a better understanding of the world around us, and strengthen our imaginations. PETER HELLIER: Books can take you absolutely anywhere. They can take you to countries that you never dreamed about going. Countries that exist, countries that don't exist. Reading just makes the world a much bigger place. It's why for the past 80 years, schools around the country have been taking part in book week. STUDENT: Reading is a place where you can have your own world just to yourself. STUDENT: It's like watching a movie inside your head, but you can choose how it goes. STUDENT: Picking up a book is a good idea, maybe you should start with something that you're interested with and then you can start exploring from there. Quiz What is the title of the book that took out this year's Book of the year Award for younger readers? It's Laughter is the Best Endingby Maryam Master. Some other winners included I'm not really here by Gary Loneborough which took out book of the year for older readers and best picture book went to The Truck Cat, by Deborah Frenkel. Sport Australia's men's national basketball team — the Boomers — have won their third Asia Cup in a row, with an epically narrow victory over China. COMMENTATOR: It is Australia who are celebrating! China started strong, leading 25-17 at quarter time. But Aussie Xavier Cooks led a fierce comeback, shooting 30 points and collecting nine rebounds, earning him the title of MVP. And there seriously couldn't have been a tighter finish. Just as the final buzzer went off, China missed a shot that would have won them the game, leaving Australia with a 90-89 victory. COMMENTATOR: An unbelievable finish. The 2025 AFLW season kicked off last week, and so did a new trick. Yeah, 19-year-old Ash Centra from Collingwood, pulled out this move in the warm-up before their season-opener to Carlton, and since then, a lot of people have been trying to do it, with some success, kind of? FOOTY PLAYER: No, I'm not doing it on camera. But despite the epic warmup, Carlton did end up beating Collingwood by 24 points. Now, the moves from these athletes in China weren't quite so graceful but give 'em a break, okay, they're robots. For the first time ever, humanoid robots from all over the world, competed in their very own games, which featured, soccer, boxing, running, and ahh, lots of falling over. Lots. Luckily though, they did bring their own cheer squad. Young Rapper Reporter: Rylie INTRO: Finally, we're going to meet another winner of this year's Heywire competition — which asks young people in regional areas to share their stories. Rylie's going to tell us how music helped to transform his life. Check it out. Mum and I were homeless. We lived at a caravan park, in motels and tents around Warrnambool. It wasn't pretty. I'm First Nations, and I remember feeling like, my own country is failing me right now. So, we camped right along here. I remember pitching a tent right here and this was actually around the same time I started to get into music which was a good way for me to have something to look forward to. I was raised by the SoundCloud era, listening to a lot of trap music. When I was in school, I'd rap along to songs by Juice World, then I started to make my own. My first track was recorded on my phone. It was bad but a lot of fun to make. Some kids in my school heard it and shamed me. That put me off music for the next couple of years, until a friend of mine bought a microphone and encouraged me to give it another go. There was something about that mic and the energy of the crew around me that gave me confidence. It lit a fire in me. Over time, I was able to focus my flow. My songs are about escapism, living the life, being a success. I rap about stuff that takes me to a better place in my head. I'm manifesting my future. My stage name is Hundo Milli, it's short for hundreds of millions. Money's not really the end goal; it's more about having the freedom to dream big. Mum taught me to never stop believing. Even when times were tough, she kept pushing for us to get housing and eventually we did. We're some of the lucky ones. Today, I'm in a Melbourne studio recording my next single. I remember living in my tent dreaming about this very moment and now I'm here, doing what I love. Ain't nothing going to stop me. Closer Well, that's all we've got for you today, but we'll be back before you know it. In the meantime, you can head to our website, there's plenty to see and do. You can also catch Newsbreak every weeknight and there's BTN High for all you highschoolers out there. Have an awesome week and I'll see you next time. Bye.

Think about the geography and location of the city or town you live in. Are there bodies of water like rivers and lakes or a coast nearby? Perhaps you live in a place with vast open fields suitable for farming or raising livestock. The natural environment is important when understanding how cities and towns developed. The earliest North American colonies depended on their natural environment. The type of soil, climate, length of seasons, and proximity to bodies of water all played a role in how each colony prospered. By the 1700’s, the American colonies grew into three distinct regions. The New England, Middle, and Southern regions each had different geographical and cultural characteristics that determined the development of their economy, society, and relationships to each other. The New England Colonies included Connecticut, Rhode Island, Massachusetts, and New Hampshire. The geography of this region featured dense forests and hills. Combined with the hard rocky land, cold climate and long winters, New England was a poor area for large farming operations. However, many colonists known as "yeoman farmers" had small family-owned farms that grew a variety of crops. Many other colonists relied on fishing and whaling off the New England coast. Others settled in small towns and became craftsmen or merchants. The forests provided excellent lumber for building boats and homes for the growing population. Many of the settlers to the New England Colonies were Puritans, hardworking, and very religious. Close families and strong communities were very important to them. The Middle Colonies included Pennsylvania, Delaware, New York, and New Jersey. The geography of this region featured a warmer climate with fertile soil, flat land, easily navigable rivers, and wide valleys making it perfect for farming and growing crops. Wealthy farmers grew cash crops and raised livestock. Mining and trading were also important aspects of the economy here. Over time, cities grew, and urban merchants sold and traded goods with people throughout the other colonies. Compared to other regions, the people of the middle colonies supported religious freedom and tolerance and had a diverse population with settlers arriving from many areas in Europe. The Southern Colonies included the first English colony of Virginia, and grew to include Maryland, North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia. The geography included rich, fertile soil with broad coastal plains that made it possible for large plantations to grow tobacco, rice, and indigo. Most of these plantations featured a labor force of enslaved Black people. These enslaved men, women, and children had few, if any, rights and often saw their families torn apart at the whim of the plantation owner. Enslaved children were even put to work as young as age three, weeding fields, carrying drinking water, or helping in the home. Smaller farms owned by subsistence farmers also existed across the Southern Colonies. Often, the people working these would grow crops for their families with little left over to sell or trade. Indentured servants also arrived in the South who would work for 5-7 years in exchange for their passage to North America. The Church of England (also known as the Anglican Church) was the dominant religion in the region. Most settlers to the South did not come for religious freedom like they did in the northern colonies. Therefore, they often maintained their allegiance to the established Church of England.

PASSIVE TRANSPORT Cell membranes help organisms maintain homeostasis by controlling what substances may enter or leave cells. Some substances can cross the cell membrane without any input of energy by the cell in a process known as passive transport. DIFFUSION The simplest type of passive transport is diffusion. Diffusion is the movement of molecules from an area of higher concentration to an area of lower concentration. This difference in the concentration of molecules across a distance is called a concentration gradient. Consider what happens when you add a sugar cube to a beaker of water. As shown in Figure 5-1, the sugar cube sinks to the bottom of the beaker. This sinking makes the concentration of sugar mole- cules greater at the bottom of the beaker than at the top. As the cube dissolves, the sugar molecules begin to diffuse slowly through the water, moving towards the lower concentration at the top. Diffusion is driven entirely by the molecules’ kinetic energy. Molecules are in constant motion because they have kinetic energy. Molecules move randomly, traveling in a straight line until they hit an object, such as another molecule. When they hit some- thing, they bounce off and move in a new direction, traveling in another straight line. If no object blocks their movement, they con- tinue on their path. Thus, molecules tend to move from areas where they are more concentrated to areas where they are less concentrated, or “down” their concentration gradient. In the absence of other influences, diffusion will eventually cause the molecules to be in equilibrium—the concentration of molecules will be the same throughout the space the molecules occupy. Returning to the example in Figure 5-1, if the beaker of water is left undisturbed, at some point the concentration of sugar molecules will be the same throughout the beaker. The sugar concentration will then be at equilibrium. SECTION 1 OBJECTIVES ● Explain how an equilibrium is established as a result of diffusion. ● Distinguish between diffusion and osmosis. ● Explain how substances cross the cell membrane through facilitated diffusion. ● Explain how ion channels assist the diffusion of ions across the cell membrane. VOCABULARY passive transport diffusion concentration gradient equilibrium osmosis hypotonic hypertonic isotonic contractile vacuole turgor pressure plasmolysis cytolysis facilitated diffusion carrier protein ion channel Sugar Water 1 2 3 FIGURE 5-1 Sugar molecules, initially in a high concentration at the bottom of a beaker, , will move about randomly through diffusion, , and eventually reach equilibrium, . At equilibrium the sugar concentration will be the same throughout the beaker. Diffusion occurs naturally because of the kinetic energy the molecules possess. 3 2 1 Copyright © by Holt, Rinehart and Winston. All rights reserved. 98 CHAPTER 5 It is important to understand that even at equilibrium the ran- dom movement of molecules continues. But because there is an equal concentration of molecules everywhere, molecules are just as likely to move in one direction as in any other. The random movements of many molecules in many directions balance one another, and equilibrium is maintained. Diffusion Across Membranes Cell membranes allow some molecules to pass through, but not others. If a molecule can pass through a cell membrane, it will diffuse from an area of higher concentration on one side of the membrane to an area of lower concentration on the other side. Diffusion across a membrane is also called simple diffusion, and only allows certain molecules to pass through the membrane. The simple diffusion of a molecule across a cell membrane depends on the size and type of molecule and on the chemical nature of the membrane. A membrane can be made, in part, of a phospho- lipid bilayer, and certain proteins can form pores in the membrane. Molecules that can dissolve in lipids may pass directly through the membrane by diffusion. For example, because of their nonpolar nature, both carbon dioxide and oxygen dissolve in lipids. Molecules that are very small but not soluble in lipids may diffuse across the membrane by moving through the pores in the membrane.

Taxi! Captain Ben Fawcett has bought an unusual taxi and has begun a new service. The 'taxi' is a small Swiss aeroplane called a 'Pilatus Porter'. This wonderful plane can carry seven passengers. The most surprising thing about it, however, is that it can land anywhere: on snow, water, or even on a ploughed field. Captain Fawcett's first passenger was a doctor who flew from Birmingham to a lonely village in the Welsh mountains. Since then, Captain Fawcett has flown passengers to many unusual places. Once he landed on the roof of a block of flats and on another occasion, he landed in a deserted car park. Captain Fawcett has just refused a strange request from a businessman. The man wanted to fly to Rockall, a lonely island in the Atlantic Ocean, but Captain Fawcett did not take him because the trip was too dangerous.

Dia for María Ratona was a cat named Mouse. She was small and gray, and had a tiny squeaky meow. She liked to sit in a hole in the shed wall. Ratona lived for a long time. Eight months ago, she died. I'm not sad anymore, but I think about her often. One day, Mamá was setting up Tía Teresa's ofrenda, a special altar, for Day of the Dead. Teresa passed away when I was a baby. "Mamá, can we celebrate pets?" I asked. "This is mostly for family, though I suppose Ratona was part of ours," Mamá said. "We can celebrate her the day before," I suggested. Later, Mamá and I went to the market in Puebla. We got paper banners, sugar skulls, and marigolds. On October 31, my friends came over. Adriana brought her dog, Sal. or Salt. She had a photo of Sal's sister, Pimienta, or Pepper, who died last summer. Gloria had a picture of Raúl the rooster, a pet she had lost. We set up the banners, marigolds. and photos where Ratona used to sit. "Once, Pimienta stole a pound of cheese from our cooler. She got into the trash and ate it later! I have cheese for Pimienta," Adriana said. "My mother makes pumpkin seeds for my great-grandfather's ofrenda. Raúl jumped up and ate them! My mother was so mad. I brought some for Raúl," Gloria said. "If someone had ice cream, Ratona went Squeak! Squeak! until you let her lick the bowl. I have ice cream for Ratona," I said. I gave Adriana and Gloria sugar skulls before they left. I thought about funny little Ratona. On the last day of celebrations, my family walked to the graveyard. Everyone from the area came. There were fireworks and even a band. Tía Teresa's gravestone was piled with flowers, sweet bread, and candles. Mamá smiled to herself. "One day, María, your Tía Teresa heard a tiny squeak coming from the grass. It was a little gray kitten. Teresa named her Ratona," Mamá said. She continued, "When Teresa died, I took Ratona. You loved her right away. You reminded me of Teresa." Everyone was laughing and dancing. I was too young to remember Tía Teresa, but we had both loved Ratona. That made me happy. Mamá took my hand. "I think it's time to dance!" she said.

Once upon a time in the bustling city of Stratonia, there lived a young and ambitious individual named Alex Turner. Alex had always been fascinated by the world of business and entrepreneurship. From a young age, Alex exhibited a keen sense of innovation and a natural ability to identify opportunities. One day, as Alex was walking through the vibrant streets of Stratonia, an idea struck like lightning. It was an opportunity that seemed too good to pass up – a chance to start a small business that could make a big impact. Excitement bubbled within Alex as the vision of entrepreneurship took shape. Eager to set a solid foundation for the business, Alex began drafting a mission statement. This document outlined the purpose of the venture, emphasizing the values and goals that would guide every decision. In the spirit of business ethics, Alex was committed to conducting operations in a morally sound manner, considering the impact on employees, customers, and the community. With the mission statement in hand, Alex set out to turn the entrepreneurial dream into reality. A code of ethics was established, reflecting a commitment to honesty, integrity, and fairness. This code served as a compass, ensuring that the business upheld the highest moral standards in every interaction. As the small business started gaining traction, innovation became a cornerstone of its success. Alex encouraged a culture of creativity, where employees were empowered to think outside the box and contribute fresh ideas. This commitment to innovation not only kept the business ahead of the competition but also fostered an environment where everyone felt valued and engaged. However, as the business expanded, challenges arose. Alex faced decisions that tested the principles outlined in the code of ethics. It was during these moments that the true character of the entrepreneur shone through. Alex remained steadfast in upholding the values that had been set from the beginning, even when faced with tempting shortcuts that could compromise integrity. The journey of entrepreneurship in Stratonia proved to be a rollercoaster of highs and lows. Yet, through unwavering commitment to the mission statement, a dedication to business ethics, and a passion for innovation, Alex Turner built a small business into an enduring success. The story of Alex and their venture became a beacon for aspiring entrepreneurs, a testament to the transformative power of ethical entrepreneurship and the pursuit of opportunities, no matter how small.

Make a multiple choice quiz for my year 8 science students based on the science in this transcript from a video: 3°C 0:04 It can be the difference between snow and sleet 0:08 Wearing a jacket or not 0:11 In your day-to-day life, it may not seem significant 0:15 But 3°C of global warming would be catastrophic 0:20 Heatwaves, droughts, extreme precipitation, even fire 0:25 3°C of warming is really disastrous 0:28 The scary thing is, the world is well on its way there 0:32 Since the industrial revolution, the Earth has warmed between 1.1°C and 1.3°C 0:40 This is a problem that babies you pass in the street will have to live with 0:46 Children born today... 0:47 ...are up to seven times more likely to face extreme weather than their grandparents 0:52 If global temperatures do rise by 3°C... 0:55 ...what would their world look like? Climate change is already having devastating effects 1:03 Rising sea levels 1:05 Desertification 1:07 Hollywood has always enjoyed imagining the end of the world 1:11 While blockbusters like this are clearly fiction... 1:14 ...this film will show the scenario we all face... 1:17 ...unless more drastic measures are taken to stop burning fossil fuels 1:30 In some parts of the world the effects of inaction are already clear 1:35 The slums of Bangladesh’s capital are filling up with climate migrants 1:41 Minara comes from Bhola District, an area in southern Bangladesh 1:46 There, like many other parts of the country... 1:49 ...rivers swollen by heavier rain and melting Himalayan glaciers... 1:53 ...are washing away people’s homes 1:56 Many, like her, have lost everything 2:00 Our home in Bhola had endless amounts of land 2:03 There was lots of space for farming, we had a spacious house 2:08 There were different types of fruits, vegetation and trees growing at home 2:12 We used to eat the fruit from our own trees 2:18 I can’t eat them now because they don't exist anymore 2:21 Since the river flooded for the third time, I had to flee to Dhaka 2:26 Life was much better back home 2:29 It was unbearable to live through, truly intolerable 2:33 We didn’t have the time to save anything at all 2:38 1.1°C to 1.3°C of global warming has already transformed Minara’s life 2:45 It’s one of the reasons why so many migrants like her... 2:47 ...are moving to the city each year... 2:50 ...nearly 400,000 according to the last estimate 2:53 And climate models show there could be much worse to come How climate modelling works 3:02 Climate scientist Joeri Rogelj... 3:04 ...has spent the last ten years modelling future climate scenarios... 3:08 ...for the United Nations 3:10 The models we use to carry out this exercise... 3:13 ...really represent the state of the art... 3:15 ...of our current knowledge of climate change and where we are heading 3:19 Joeri’s projections use data collected by hundreds of scientists around the world 3:26 Here this is the 3°C level... 3:28 ...and so there is at least a one-in-four chance that under current policies... 3:32 ...we would hit 3°C by the end of the century 3:36 This is just one of the scenarios Joeri looks at 3:40 Another one imagines that all policy promises are kept 3:44 The most optimistic assumes that all promises have been kept... 3:47 ...and net-zero targets are met 3:50 Where our best estimate ends up around 2°C at the end of the century... 3:54 ...there is still a one-in-20 chance that we end up with 3°C instead 3:59 One would not be entering a plane if there is a one-in-20 chance... 4:03 ...that the plane will crash Nowhere is safe from global warming 4:07 A rise of 3°C would affect everyone 4:10 Even wealthy cities in rich countries wouldn’t be immune to the consequences 4:15 European capitals like Paris and Berlin... 4:18 ...would bake under more extreme heatwaves 4:22 Frequent storm-surges in New York could turn parts of the city desolate 4:27 In many ways, cities magnify, intensify climate events 4:33 Cities are hotter than the places around them... 4:36 ...they tend to be more vulnerable to flooding 4:39 And you can get a really bad event in a city in a way that you can’t in the countryside 4:46 And because of their denser populations... 4:49 ...disasters in a city affect far more people 4:52 Some cities might be badly prepared for the changes coming 4:56 But they have the means to adapt 4:59 Cities tend to be wealthier than surrounding places 5:03 They have a lot of amenities 5:05 A city that has taken seriously the risks of a 3°C world... 5:08 …wouldn’t necessarily be a worse place to be in a 3°C world 5:12 But a city that hasn’t prepared for these sort of eventualities... 5:16 ...that might be a really nasty place The impact of prolonged droughts 5:20 So far, many developed cities have got off lightly... 5:24 ...but some rural parts of the world are suffering disproportionately 5:29 Smallholders—small-scale farmers—are particularly vulnerable to climate change 5:35 And there are over 600 million around the world 5:38 Smallholders with farms under two hectares... 5:40 ...produce around a third of the global food supply 5:46 Central America’s “Dry Corridor”... 5:48 ...supports a mix of smallholdings and medium-sized farms 5:53 Sandwiched between the Pacific Ocean and the Caribbean Sea... 5:56 ...the area is prone to droughts 6:08 Israel Ramírez Rivera is a smallholder in Guatemala 6:12 Here, climate change is making the dry seasons longer, and more severe 6:18 This is the biggest ear of maize that this plot could deliver 6:23 He depends on his crops of corn and beans 6:26 But they’re getting harder to grow 6:30 The surrounding mountains... 6:32 ...used to provide us with native food... 6:38 ...and now that isn’t an option anymore... 6:41 ...due to climate change and its effects 6:46 Nearly two-thirds of the smallholders in the Dry Corridor now live in poverty 6:52 The impact of all of this for us... 6:59 ...malnutrition among children 7:03 We’ve lost a few 7:07 For my crops especially, the midsummer heat is harder than before 7:16 The plant dries up and can’t provide us... 7:19 ...with the necessary food provision 7:24 Severe droughts in Central America... 7:26 ...are now four times more likely than they were last century 7:30 Many families from here have gone to the States 7:37 The economic despair and debts... 7:44 ...have pushed many people from this community to do this journey 7:53 Migration from Guatemala to the United States has quadrupled since 1990 7:59 Not all of this has been due to climate change 8:02 But longer droughts would force even more to move 8:05 In a 3°C world, annual rainfall in this region... 8:09 ...could drop by up to 14% 8:12 At 3°C, over a quarter of the world’s population... 8:16 ...could endure extreme droughts for at least a month of the year 8:19 Northern Africa could see droughts that last for years at a time Rising sea levels, storm surges and flooding 8:24 But for some, too much water will be the problem 8:29 10% of the world’s population lives on a coastline... 8:32 ...that’s less than 10 metres above sea level 8:35 For these coastal inhabitants, a 3°C world would spell disaster 8:40 By 2100, global sea levels could have climbed by half a metre from 2005 levels 8:46 Low-lying cities like Lagos would be especially vulnerable... 8:49 ...with up to up to a third of the population displaced 8:54 And in Fiji, rising waters are already upending lives 9:04 You can see the graveyard there, it’s all under water now... 9:08 ...due to this rising sea level and climate change 9:15 The village of Togoru in Fiji is being swallowed by the sea 9:19 Barney Dunn, the village headman, has seen over half the village disappear 9:24 Relatives’ houses have been abandoned, and family graves are now under water 9:29 We have been asked by the government to relocate... 9:32 ...but no one wants to relocate... 9:34 ...because we have our great-great-grandparents down there in the sea 9:39 This is the place we’ve been brought up in 9:41 ...it’s not easy to leave 9:44 Past attempts to build a seawall haven’t worked 9:48 But Barney sees building a new one as the village’s only hope 9:52 If they do that, maybe we can save whatever is left 9:56 But if we don’t have the seawall, then it will be keep eroding and time will come... 10:01 ...maybe in ten,15 years, Togoru will be all eroded 10:05 Rising seas also mean storms cause more floods 10:11 And many more countries could suffer 10:14 The Philippines and Myanmar are just two countries... 10:17 ...that will also see an increase in storm surges in a 3°C world 10:21 To escape, many will move… 10:24 …often, to urban areas Extreme heat and wet-bulb temperatures 10:27 Half the world’s population already lives in cities... 10:31 ...almost a third in slums 10:36 For them, a 3°C world could be deadly 10:40 Minara has moved to Dhaka to escape the impact of climate change 10:44 But life could get even worse for her 10:47 I’m struggling a lot nowadays 10:49 The heat during the day is unbearable 10:52 Even late at night it doesn’t cool down 10:57 The heat is getting more intense every day 10:59 I mean, it’s going to get much worse 11:03 I can barely survive it now, how will I live through it in the future? 11:08 Dhaka is getting hotter 11:11 In the last 20 years the average daytime temperature... 11:13 ...has crept up by nearly half a degree 11:17 Days that approach 40°C are now being reported 11:20 And high so-called wet-bulb temperatures are on the rise 11:26 A wet-bulb temperature is a measure of heat and humidity 11:30 Humans cool themselves by sweating… 11:32 But in these conditions, when relative humidity is near 100%... 11:36 ...sweat doesn’t evaporate well 11:38 So people can’t cool down… 11:41 ...even if given unlimited shade and water 11:45 At a high wet-bulb temperature, the body can’t lose heat... 11:49 ...and so it gets hotter and hotter... 11:51 ...and the body is designed to work at a given temperature 11:53 And if it gets too hot inside, you will die 11:58 The human limit for wet-bulb temperatures is 35°C... 12:02 ...around skin temperature 12:04 Dhaka will have a much higher chance... 12:05 ...of reaching dangerous wet-bulb temperatures... 12:07 ...if global warming reaches 3°C 12:12 You can’t really adapt to that 12:14 You have to get out. If the temperature is so high that you can’t work... 12:20 ...can’t do hard manual labour outside for significant parts of the year... 12:25 ...then many places will become functionally no longer part of the economy 12:33 Jacobabad in Pakistan, and Ras al Khaimah, in the United Arab Emirates... 12:37 ...have already recorded deadly wet-bulb temperatures 12:40 More of the tropics and the Persian Gulf... 12:43 ...as well as parts of Mexico and the south-eastern United States... 12:47 ...could all get to this threshold by the end of the century 12:50 Climate modelling might show us the weather Increased migration and conflict 12:52 But it doesn’t show us its other effects on society 12:56 Established migration patterns could change 12:59 Climate disasters may exacerbate reasons people cross borders 13:03 Within countries, more people will move to cities 13:07 In a 3°C world, tens of millions of people a year... 13:10 ...could be displaced by disasters made worse by climate change 13:15 When people are displaced by climate... 13:18 …they may well go to cities... 13:19 ...because cities are the places that attract people from the countryside already 13:25 A lot of people who can get to the developed world... 13:28 ...not least because the developed world tends to be less hot, will give that a go 13:35 As migration around the world increases... 13:38 ...there could be more competition for fewer resources 13:42 Water—already a highly contested resource—will be a focal point 13:47 Turkey’s new Ilisu dam has reduced the flow of water into Iraq 13:53 China lays claim to rivers vital to India and Pakistan 13:57 The prospect of a water-conflict makes people very uneasy 14:03 How national tensions would exacerbate those sorts of reactions... 14:08 ...in a 3°C world... 14:09 ...is the sort of thing that no one should really want to find out 14:14 I think you’d have to be incredibly sanguine... 14:16 ...not to think that the sort of climate extremes that we talk about... 14:19 ...in a 3°C world wouldn’t lead some places... 14:22 ...to the brink of societal collapse 14:25 Those lucky enough to escape unrest... Adaptation and mitigation are crucial 14:28 ...would still have to adapt to a radically different world 14:32 People can adapt to climate change in all sorts of ways, one of the most obvious ones... 14:37 ...is air conditioning 14:39 But other ways to adapt at a local or regional level... 14:42 ...I mean, one of the most obvious is diversifying agriculture 14:47 There are physical things you can do, like seawalls 14:52 The fact that people can adapt and that adaptation will reduce suffering... 14:57 ...doesn’t mean that it will eliminate suffering 15:00 Suffering is built into this whole process of heating up the planet 15:06 Adaptation will only get the world so far 15:09 The best way to deal with a 3°C world... 15:12 ...is not to go to a 3°C world 15:14 And that’s why increasing efforts on mitigation are important 15:17 It’s why working towards negative emissions... 15:20 ...that could bring down the temperature after it peaks are important 15:25 Once you get to a 3°C world, you are in real bad global trouble 15:33 The scale of change needed... 15:35 ...and the slow progress of governments so far... 15:38 ...means 3°C of warming is uncomfortably likely unless more is done 15:44 Despite existing pledges, greenhouse-gas emissions... 15:48 ...are still set to rise by 16% from 2010 levels by 2030 15:54 The need to act has never been clearer 15:57 There’s still time to reduce emissions, so that a 3°C world remains fiction... 16:02 ...rather than becoming fact

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