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Their Influencer Parents Used Them as Content. Are They Being Used Again Now?
Their Influencer Parents Used Them as Content. Are They Being Used Again Now?

New York Times

time02-04-2025

  • New York Times

Their Influencer Parents Used Them as Content. Are They Being Used Again Now?

In the video, we see a boy walk up a shaded front patio in Ivins, Utah. He is 12 but appears younger; his thighs are sticks, his knees knobby. After ringing the doorbell, he retreats toward the street, and by the time the door opens, he is almost out of view, swallowed up in sunlight. 'I was wondering if you could do two favors?' he asks. 'Taking me to the nearest police station? Well, actually, just one's fine.' Before the Washington County Attorney's Office released this August 2023 doorbell-camera footage to the press, it blurred the boy's face — an unsurprising choice, as the video depicts a minor who was the victim of a crime. But the boy's identity was already well known online. Fans had been watching him and his five siblings since he was a toddler on '8 Passengers,' the YouTube channel of his mother, Ruby Franke, which at its height had more than two million subscribers and brought in as much as $100,000 a month. His escape from a house owned by Jodi Hildebrandt — a counselor and life coach whose teachings Franke subscribed to — made national news. Franke and Hildebrandt had abused Franke's two youngest children, denying them food and water and binding them with rope; each was charged with six counts of felony aggravated child abuse and, six months later, sent to prison for up to 30 years. The Hulu documentary 'Devil in the Family: The Fall of Ruby Franke' recounts this story, but it is striking that viewers never see Franke's younger son's face or hear his name. Whenever the boy appears in footage filmed by Franke and her husband at the time, Kevin, his face is blurred; if anyone says his name, not only is the audio censored, but mouths are blurred to prevent lip reading. The documentary similarly conceals the identities of the three other Franke children who are still minors. The only Franke children whose identities are not protected are the two oldest — Shari, 22, and Chad, 20 — who appear in interviews as well as videos and outtakes from the channel. 'Devil in the Family' is the second docuseries this year to adopt this approach. The other is HBO's 'An Update on Our Family,' about Myka and James Stauffer, an Ohio couple whose YouTube channels once had about one million subscribers. The Stauffers' viewership grew substantially in 2016 and 2017, as they posted a 27-video series detailing their adoption of a toddler from China, whom they renamed Huxley. Huxley soon became the channel's main character; the Stauffers even featured him in sponsored content, like a spot for Dreft baby detergent. But in May 2020, fans turned on the Stauffers when they revealed that they had dissolved Huxley's adoption because of their difficulty in managing his developmental disabilities. In 'An Update on Our Family,' every child's face is blurred. Huxley is altered even further: In a clip where Myka shares images of the boy at an orphanage in China, scribbled rotoscoping animation covers his face and body. He remains penciled out through the rest of the series — a visual echo of the way the Stauffers' own channels began to make videos of Huxley private before the couple announced that he was no longer their son. (He has since been adopted by another family.) The blurring is a gesture at restitution: In concealing the identities of these children, the documentarians are attempting the ex post facto application of a privacy that was stripped away long ago. But the gesture feels shallow. The Frankes and the Stauffers invited viewers into their children's most personal moments, from tantrums to puberty milestones; they grabbed attention with a mirage of idealized family life and profited handsomely. The documentaries expose the dark realities behind that mirage, with a similar goal. Ruby Franke and Myka Stauffer uploaded plenty of talking-head content narrating their lives, but what really drew viewers was their children. '8 Passengers' first went viral with a 2015 video titled 'BABY climbs out of crib!!!' depicting the youngest Franke child — the girl who would later be found emaciated in a closet — rappelling out of a lime green crib. The Frankes incorporated 8 Passengers Productions L.L.C. soon after. For seven years, their children's lives were ruled by feeding the YouTube algorithm. The documentary shows Ruby telling the children that they'll get $10 for each video they 'help with'; over footage of girls with blurred faces cleaning mirrors and baseboards, Shari explains how the home 'felt more like a set than a house.' 'An Update on Our Family' tries to think through the ethical dilemmas of monetizing someone's childhood this way. Toward the end, the journalist Stephanie McNeal, who wrote about the Stauffers for BuzzFeed News, talks about how such scandals might have prompted a broader discussion about family vlogging. Instead, she says, 'people just yelled about the Stauffers on the internet and sent death threats — which, OK, but that didn't help any other children. Let's put some laws into place. How can we make this safe for kids?' According to Shari Franke, you can't. 'I want to be clear that there is never, ever a good reason for posting your children online for money or fame,' she told the Utah Senate in testimony last October. 'There is no such thing as a moral or ethical family vlogger.' Three months later, Doug Owens, a Democrat who represents Salt Lake County, introduced a bill in the Utah House of Representatives that would establish protections for the children of content creators, requiring that parents who earn $150,000 a year or more from social media featuring their minor child set aside 15 percent of the child's earnings in a trust for the child to access upon turning 18. The legislation also includes a provision that children can have content featuring them removed from the internet when they reach adulthood — a step well beyond blurring their faces. Similar legislation has been signed into law in California and Illinois, but its introduction in Utah was significant: As Shari Franke explained in her testimony, the state is a hotbed of family content creation. In February, Kevin Franke also testified in support of the bill — though his remarks, too, suggested that it did not go far enough. 'Vlogging my family, putting my children into public social media, was wrong, and I regret it every day,' he said. He also read a statement from his 16-year-old daughter, detailing her experience of growing up on YouTube. 'You're selling your life, your privacy, your body and stories to the entire world,' she wrote. 'And as a child, you're involuntarily giving up all of that. You're selling your childhood.' The bill passed, and it was signed into law on March 25. 'Devil in the Family' has nothing to say about such legislation, or the broader ethical hazards of family influencing; it is focused on Ruby Franke's individual acts of evil, collecting behind-the-scenes footage of how poorly she treated her children. For years, people turned to this channel, and others, for intimate glimpses into how other families lived; they became invested in the daily lives of the children they watched growing up onscreen. Those children's faces might be blurred this time, but they still serve as content: People want to know what happened to them. The blurs and scribbles of 'An Update on Our Family,' too, hint that the team behind the series struggled with how to tell Huxley's story without doing much the same thing his adoptive parents did. The attempt to excise all these children from footage already watched by millions suggests a queasy truth: We shouldn't have seen them in the first place.

‘Stream Sniping' Has Become a Nightmare for IRL Creators — But What Is It?
‘Stream Sniping' Has Become a Nightmare for IRL Creators — But What Is It?

Yahoo

time20-03-2025

  • Entertainment
  • Yahoo

‘Stream Sniping' Has Become a Nightmare for IRL Creators — But What Is It?

On March 2, three popular women Twitch streamers — Rachel 'Valkyrae' Hofstetter, Brittany 'Cinna' Watts, and Emily 'Emiru' Schunk — were accosted by a man who appeared to be a fan of theirs during a live stream at the Santa Monica Pier. After one of the women denied his request for her phone number, he seemingly followed them as they neared the exit before lunging at them and yelling, 'I'll kill you right now.' The women screamed for security and fled before the stream cut to a holding screen. Many believe what happened to the women was an example of 'stream sniping,' a trend that involves viewers using visual clues to seek out content creators doing IRL (in real life) streams and attempting to get in the video, or, in extreme cases, harassing, threatening, or attacking a streamer. More from Rolling Stone Harassment, Stalkers, Death Threats: A Day in the Life of Women on Twitch 'Devil in the Family': What We Learned From the Ruby Franke Docuseries Saxsquatch, the Bigfoot Who Blasts on Saxophone, Will Save Your Sanity And while women streamers are more prone to harassment, stream sniping affects people across the spectrum. Last year, Darren 'iShowSpeed' Watkins, Jr. was mobbed by a massive crowd of Norwegian fans while broadcasting live in the streets of Oslo. In August 2024, popular political streamer Hasan 'Hasanabi' Piker was live from an Uber when a car pulled up next to him and appeared to ask the driver, 'Is Hasan with you?' 'Bro, just keep going,' Piker urged the driver of the vehicle he was in. 'That's fucking insane.' For women, stream sniping can often come with an added layer of concern, and rightfully so: In January 2023, Japanese streamer Shibuya Kaho took to X (formerly Twitter) to say she was 'scared in so many ways' by her Twitch chat showing up at a train station after one of her IRL casts ended. 'They knew I was trying to catch my last train after streaming in Shizuoka,' she wrote. In December 2023, Twitch streamer Lydia 'lydiaviolet' was doing a holiday-themed IRL stream around London when a man in a hoodie began following her. 'What are you doing?,' she asked. 'I'm following orders,' he replied. She repeatedly tried to get away from him, suggesting he walk in one direction while she walked in the other. A week and a half after the incident with Valkyrae, Cinna, and Emiru, a Japanese streamer named Airi Sato, known for her IRL streams, was stabbed over 30 times in a busy Tokyo street by a man who reportedly told police that the content creator owed him money. The man allegedly figured out where Airi Sato was by following her live stream. Her attack was briefly caught on air; she was taken to a local hospital but died from her wounds. Stream sniping has become a more pervasive problem for both online and IRL streamers, but there are ways that creators can protect themselves when taking their broadcasts out into the real world. Stream sniping is when a viewer deliberately — and often maliciously — tries to insert themselves into a live stream to hijack, derail, or otherwise disrupt the experience. It's usually done virtually when creators play online multiplayer shooters (hence the term 'sniping'), with stream snipers either seeking out the person playing a game like Fortnite, or simply following a streamer around after realizing they're in the same game lobby. Since their POV is being live-streamed to an audience, it's easy for stream snipers to know where they might be on the virtual map, what kind of equipment they're carrying, what cosmetics they have on, and other identifying factors. In some instances, stream snipers just want to eliminate popular personalities in a given match, seeking them out to gun them down or otherwise mess with their chances of winning a game. In battle royale games like Fortnite, Apex Legends, and Call of Duty: Warzone, death is an immediate elimination, which can frustrate streamers trying to get exciting footage for their viewers — and there's nothing more exciting than a win. Sometimes, stream snipers are just looking to make a comedic impact. Félix 'xQc' Lengyel has 12 million followers on Twitch, and he's spent a lot of his time streaming Fortnite. He was famously plagued by a stream sniper known as Juul Trooper, who would wear a banana costume when seeking out Lengyel to kill him and then emote over his character's dead body, usually by playing the saxophone while the creator screamed with rage. Other times, stream snipers are also streamers themselves, using the tactic to make their own content. Content creator Spaiidz has several YouTube videos dedicated to stream sniping, with titles like 'I Stream Sniped Until He Gave Me VBucks' or 'I Stream Sniped Until He Gave Me His Account.' Successful stream snipers often share videos from their point of view, with clips of them targeting content creators often garnering millions of views on YouTube and elsewhere. Popular games like Call of Duty and Sea of Thieves have tools to help prevent stream sniping, like an ability to turn on 'Streamer Mode' that hides the player's real gamertag, or the option to hide a server name so bad actors can't log into a server to find them in-game. Stream sniping is a frustrating experience for those who are targeted, but it's a very different story when they are 'stream sniped' in real life. Though in-game stream sniping can range from funny to annoying, things can get dangerous when the practice transitions into the real world. There are plenty of examples of IRL stream snipers pulling fairly harmless pranks on streamers, like someone pulling up in a cab while Andy 'CookSux' streamed in South Korea to hand him several bags of food out of the window, or Jason 'jasontheween' Nguyen pretending to 'stream snipe' a fellow content creator and friend, Clix, running up to him mid-IRL stream. But then there is the kind of real-world stream-sniping that can be strange, sinister, or flat-out dangerous. Connor Marc Colquhoun, known online as 'ConnorDawg,' has 1.5 million subscribers on YouTube, and he often does IRL streams. In a January 2023 YouTube video, Colquhoun describes stream sniping, saying that it is 'kind of accepted to be okay,' before adding, 'it's a thing to do in streaming for some reason it doesn't really have a bad rep, as long as the person is normally cool.' But what if they aren't? 'There are some dangers,' he says in the video, referencing Shibuya Kaho's unnerving train station experience when she was approached after a stream. 'This is extremely concerning, especially considering that Kaho was streaming alone.' iShowSpeed is a content creator who often does IRL live streams on YouTube to his 36 million followers and is often targeted by stream snipers. During a massive global tour last year, Watkins, who did not respond to a request for comment, faced throngs of fans across Europe, culminating in a terrifying event in Oslo, Norway on July 3, 2024. As detailed in a video titled 'the scariest day of my life,' Watkins live-streamed while visiting a souvenir shop that was quickly surrounded by fans. 'I literally just got here, bro,' he said to the crowd waiting outside the shop. 'This is bad though. What the fuck? I just started my stream bro.' As he tried to leave, the crowd appeared to refuse to back away from the door. 'Stream canceled, I literally cannot go outside,' he said, before he was ushered into a back stairway to leave out of a different exit. Fans were waiting for him at that exit as well, chanting his name and appearing to grab him as he tried to leave. He doubled back into the building, visibly angry, hitting the walls with a novelty Thor-style hammer. He eventually called the Norwegian police, saying 'I am a YouTuber and I have 25 million subs. I am currently at this souvenir shop in Norway, and there are maybe around 1,000 to 2,000 people banging on the door. I need help to get out of this shop.' As he waited for the car to pick him up, he looked out at the crowd of people from a second-story window, begging them to leave, flipping them off, and eventually performing a spin move he invented called the 'Sewey,' which caused him to injure his ankle. 'I think I just broke my ankle,' he said, wincing. Just two months later, several thousand Singaporeans reportedly joined a Telegram channel in an attempt to stream snipe iShowSpeed during his tour of Southeast Asia. Though it never got as intense as his experience in Oslo, Watkins was met with huge crowds of fans as he walked down the famous Arab Street, with one challenging him to a footrace, another asking him to participate in the 'Smash or Pass' trend, and another gifting him a brand-new iPhone. On March 18, iShowSpeed announced he'll be doing a massive IRL stream in China, clearly undeterred by his experiences. It's difficult to prevent harassment, stalkers, and real-life stream snipers, but creators can do several things to make their IRL streaming somewhat safer. The common tactics suggested by fellow streamers or in community message boards include avoiding streaming in spaces with easily identifiable landmarks, street signs, addresses, or easily searchable businesses, and not showing the exterior areas near where you live, in case bad actors are attempting to discover your address. If you plan on streaming in more easily recognizable places, adding a delay to your broadcast can help thwart those trying to geolocate you. 'My very boring answer is that I don't tell people where I am live [streaming] unless there is some amount of security involved. There really isn't a safe way for people with followings to do that,' Twitch streamer jorbs told me on BlueSky. 'I don't think it's safe to be in person with people with security involved either, but people have different amounts of risk tolerance.' Justin 'SJC' Schainberg has been streaming since 2008. He often streams daily IRL vlogs of his life walking around Hollywood Boulevard or attending protests, and tells Rolling Stone that he feels like the format is the best way for him to express himself. 'The selfie stick is my paintbrush and the world is my canvas,' he says. 'I search for moments that are impossible to duplicate, and the fact that I catch it at that moment is pure art to me.' Though he's been lucky enough to avoid 'toxic' people on his IRL streams, for those taking it up, he offers some advice: 'Be aware of your surroundings,' he says. 'A lot of it is thinking on your own, 20 steps ahead.' John Phipps, a former Marine and combat veteran with experience providing physical security for individuals at public events like PAX East, tells Rolling Stone that streamers should 'always stream within eyesight and earshot of public gatherings.' Public-facing events are less likely to be targeted by bad actors, and even if they are, there would be plenty of eyewitnesses or people to help in case something happened. Women, in particular, should be on alert. 'Sucks that I have to say this, but if you're a woman I'd advise having physical security within 30 feet, and make sure they advertise their presence,' Phipps says. 'Eighty percent of people will be immediately deterred by the presence of physical security.' If a bad actor is not deterred by security and approaches you, there are steps you can take. 'Instruct your security to prevent contact and physically remove [the person approaching you] from your space,' he says. 'If this isn't possible, have your security escort you from the area. Don't engage physically or verbally.' But security is a luxury most Twitch streamers cannot afford. Phipps has suggestions for those streamers who can't foot such a lofty bill, and it involves taking safety into their own hands. 'If you don't have or can't afford physical security, be armed,' he says, suggesting non-lethal protective devices like mace or a Taser. But avoid firearms. 'I'm usually a proponent of vulnerable people concealed carrying, but if you're going to be streaming in a public venue and you're not trained I'd strongly advise against pulling a firearm.' For Valkyrae, whose IRL stream turned scary in the blink of an eye, she'll never go live without being prepared again. She posted on X on March 5, 'I always over confidently imagined I would be able to defend myself and others,' but the way that she and the other two women were accosted made her reconsider. 'I'll never be out without a taser/pepper gun ever again, I'll never joke about being strong enough to handle being attacked again, and I'll always take threats like this seriously.' Best of Rolling Stone Every Super Bowl Halftime Show, Ranked From Worst to Best The United States of Weed Gaming Levels Up

Johnny Vaughan's banter is unbeatable: best podcasts of the week
Johnny Vaughan's banter is unbeatable: best podcasts of the week

The Guardian

time17-03-2025

  • Entertainment
  • The Guardian

Johnny Vaughan's banter is unbeatable: best podcasts of the week

Radio X hosts Johnny Vaughan and Gavin Woods tell the tales of 'legendary' historical figures. First up, it's frontiersman Hugh Glass, who was the inspiration behind The Revenant – an ex-pirate who befriended the Native American tribe the Pawnee and became a professional fur trapper. It's a banter-packed, laddish ramble that takes in everything from having sex on a pirate ship to why humans are the messiest creature in existence. Alexi Duggins Episodes weekly, widely available The rise and fall of family vloggers has been the subject of two TV documentaries this year (HBO's An Update on Our Family, and Devil in the Family on Disney+). It's just one of the topics covered in this smart internet-themed podcast from tech journalist Morgan Sung, who is 'chronically online' so you don't have to be. Hannah J Davies Widely available, episodes weekly This troubling investigation shines a light on the problem the US police system has with confidential informants – and how the secrecy around them lets the cops operate without oversight or regulation. Its journey into the drug war in Massachusetts is a wild ride of illegal searches, police stealing drugs and lives that are totally disrupted. AD Widely available, episodes weekly Writer and activist Nova Reid hosts this treasure trove of a podcast, profiling unsung Black women from history. Her subjects include pioneering journalist Barbara Blake-Hannah, civil rights campaigner Olive Morris and Queen Nanny of the Maroons – the freedom fighter whose story takes Reid deep into the origins of Jamaica's motto, 'Out of many, one people'. HJD Widely available, episodes weekly Sign up to What's On Get the best TV reviews, news and features in your inbox every Monday after newsletter promotion 'We hated them, we hunted them, we battered them – it was a way of life.' For this scrutinising football podcast, Tony Bellew speaks to 'those who fought in the name of the 'firms' they believed in' as he delves into the fan hooliganism of the 1970s and 80s – and the darkest night in 1985, when 39 people were killed at the Heysel Stadium. Hollie Richardson BBC Sounds, all episodes out now

What happened to Ruby Franke? Disney+'s Devil in the Family explained
What happened to Ruby Franke? Disney+'s Devil in the Family explained

Yahoo

time10-03-2025

  • Entertainment
  • Yahoo

What happened to Ruby Franke? Disney+'s Devil in the Family explained

Sign up to Disney+ Ruby Franke is the subject of new Disney+ documentary Devil in the Family, which explores the crimes of the parenting influencer against her six children. The matriarch launched YouTube channel 8 Passengers in 2015, catapulting to fame during a boom in social media influencers sharing their family life online. She would post five days a week at one point and amassed 2.5m subscribers at the channel's height as well as 1bn views. Franke's videos sparked widespread concern over the strict treatment she would enforce, but it was only later that the true extent of the abuse she subjected her children to was revealed. Franke would document aspects of her family life in YouTube videos, some of which were disturbing for viewers. In one video she told her sons they would "lose the privilege to eat dinner" if they continued to play-fight with each other, for example. In another video she claimed her six-year-old daughter "needed" to go hungry because she forgot to take her lunch to school. Other abusive behaviour included making her children stand or sleep outdoors, making them work outdoors without proper protection which resulted in sunburns, and making them do wall sits. She also shaved one of her daughter's heads, and would even withhold food, water or oxygen from them. Franke's teenage son once revealed in a video that he was sleeping on a beanbag after his bedroom was taken away from him for seven months because he had played pranks on his sibling. In June 2022 Franke and Hildebrandt, her business partner and counsellor, launched a YouTube channel called ConneXions where they gave advice to other parents. Franke and her husband Kevin separated in 2022, and he later called for Franke to be given the maximum possible sentence for the abuse she inflicted on their children. He filed for divorce in November 2023. In August 2023 Franke's 12-year-old son knocked on a neighbour's door asking for food and water, he was covered in open wounds and had been found with duct tape still on his ankles. Police later confirmed that he had escaped his home by climbing out of a window and running to a nearby house for help. An arrest report showed that the boy suffered malnourishment and had "deep lacerations from being tied up with rope". Police found Franke's ten-year-old daughter in the family home, she was also malnourished and both were taken to hospital. This prompted Franke to be arrested, her business partner Jodi Hildebrandt was also arrested. In total four children were put into care when Franke was taken into custody. Franke was charged with six counts of aggravated child abuse, and ultimately pleaded guilty to four of those counts. Hildebrant also pleaded guilty to four counts of aggravated child abuse. In February 2024 Franke and Hildebrandt were sentenced, with the former vlogger sentenced to serve one to 15 years for each of the four counts of abuse she pled guilty to — in Utah if a person is given consecutive sentences then the maximum prison sentence served is 30 years. This means that she will serve between four and 30 years in prison. Hildebrandt was sentenced to four consecutive terms of one to 15 years in prison for each count of aggravated child abuse, she will similarly serve between four and 30 years in prison as a result. During her sentencing, Franke told the court: "I was so disoriented that I believed dark was light and right was wrong." Franke's eldest daughter Shari has written a memoir of her experience, The House of My Mother: A Daughter's Quest for Freedom. In it she discusses her and her siblings' experience of abuse at the hands of their mother. Shari was included significantly on the family YouTube channel and has explained that she has since realised she was "coerced" into sharing embarasing and intimate details about her life online. She also explained that when she went to college Franke cut all ties with her daughter, leaving her in fear of her siblings' safety which led to her calling family services to assist. Speaking to People in January 2025, she said: "Part of me feels guilty if I don't forgive. But I've come to realize that forgiveness for me just means that I don't let her actions consume my thoughts. "I'm still angry about what she did, of course, and that's never going to go away, but I am living my life and I am not letting her take any more of that from me than she's already taken." Franke's four youngest children have since been taken into custody by the Division of Child and Family Services, and will "remain in professional care for the aggravated psychological and emotional injuries suffered." Kevin Franke filed for custody for his children, the case is ongoing. Devil in the Family: The Fall of Ruby Franke is out on Disney+ now. If you feel you have been the subject of child abuse you can contact Childline on 0800 1111 or via 1-2-1 chat on You can contact the NSPCC Helpline by calling 0808 800 5000, emailing help@

What Is Casey Anthony Doing on TikTok?
What Is Casey Anthony Doing on TikTok?

Yahoo

time05-03-2025

  • Yahoo

What Is Casey Anthony Doing on TikTok?

Casey Anthony was acquitted in the 2008 murder of her two-year-old daughter, but the ordeal made her, as one Department of Corrections spokeswoman famously put it, 'one of the most hated women in America.' This week, she joined TikTok and Substack, rebranding as a 'legal advocate.' In her first TikTok, which has been viewed over 4.1 million times, Anthony says she has been in the legal field since 2011, though she didn't note what her involvement has been (and it's possible that she's referring to the year her murder trial started). 'My goal is to continue to help give a voice to people, to give people tools and resources that they can utilize,' Anthony said in the video, urging viewers to subscribe to her Substack, a platform where creators send out newsletters. 'We'll see how this goes,' the video ends. Comments on the video are disabled but it has been shared nearly 64,000 times. Fellow TikTokers are skeptical, to put it mildly. ('Casey Anthony rebranding herself as a legal advocate is like Jeffrey Dahmer opening a steakhouse,' reads one.) It's been a while since she's been in the news, so who is Anthony, what was her case, and why are people so upset she's back in the public eye? More from Rolling Stone The True Scandal Behind Netflix's 'Toxic Town' How TikTok Turned Wedding Shame Into a Content Gold Mine 'Devil in the Family': What We Learned From the Ruby Franke Docuseries Anthony, 38, became a tabloid fixture when her toddler daughter Caylee was reported missing in July 2008. Casey's mother, Cindy Anthony, called 911 and said she hadn't seen her granddaughter in a month; Cindy also said that her daughter's car smelled like there had been a dead body in it. One day after Cindy reported Caylee missing, Casey was arrested and charged with child neglect, giving false statements, and obstruction. One week after Caylee was reported missing, Casey was declared a 'person of interest' in her daughter's disappearance. Investigators found damaging evidence against her, including internet searches for chloroform and neck-breaking and traces of human decomposition in the trunk of her car. Casey maintained her innocence, claiming her daughter had been kidnapped by a babysitter. In October 2008, Casey Anthony was indicted on first-degree murder charges in connection with her daughter's death, though the toddler's body hadn't been found. Two months later, in December of 2008, a meter reader found Caylee's skeletal remains less than a mile from Casey's parents house. Casey's trial, which would become one of the most widely-watched criminal trials in history with 40 million people tuning in, began in May 2011. Though she had initially claimed her daughter had been abducted by a babysitter, on the first day of the murder trial, the defense offered a new explanation: the toddler had accidentally drowned in the family swimming pool and Casey's parents had known their granddaughter was dead throughout the entire months-long search for her. Casey also claimed her father, George Anthony, helped her cover up the accidental death by burying Caylee in the backyard. The defense, led by Jose Baez, also claimed that Casey was sexually abused and molested by her father, which he has denied. In a 2018 special called Casey Anthony's Parents Speak, George said he thought Casey was 'absolutely' involved in Caylee's death, while Cindy said she still believed that Caylee drowned in the family pool. After 90 witnesses over 33 days of testimony, the trial ended and Casey was found not guilty on counts including first-degree murder, manslaughter, and child abuse though she was convicted on four counts of lying to police, for which she was sentenced to four years in prison and a $4,000 fine. Though the verdict was shocking, one juror told People that there wasn't enough to satisfy the burden of proof: 'She seems like a horrible person. But the prosecutors did not give us enough evidence to convict. They gave us a lot of stuff that makes us think she probably did something wrong, but not beyond a reasonable doubt.' Another juror told the St. Petersburg Times, 'I wish we had more evidence to put her away.' Just 10 days after her sentencing, Casey was released from jail with credit for time served. Since her infamous acquittal, Casey has kept a mostly low-profile. In 2011, she gave a rare interview to the Associated Press in which she maintained her innocence. 'I didn't do what I was accused of,' she said. 'I don't give a shit about what anyone thinks about me, I never will. I'm okay with myself, I sleep pretty good at night.' Casey didn't seem to have public social media profiles until this week when she joined TikTok and Substack. She has since amassed 61,300 followers on TikTok, and says she's going to be setting up an email where people can reach out to her about legal issues. 'As a proponent for the lGBTQ community, for the legal community, for women's rights, I feel that it's important that I use this platform that was thrust upon me and now look at [as] as a blessing instead of the curse it has been since 2008.' In her first TikTok, Casey urged viewers to subscribe to her Substack, a blogging platform on which creators send out newsletters, where she is writing under the handle @therealcaseyanthony. Around 2,700 people have subscribed to her newsletter. Casey's bio on Substack reads, 'Everyone seems to have an opinion — about me, and about my life. I am an advocate, a researcher. These are my words, this is my REAL life.' In a series of Notes posted on Substack, Casey warns against the 'constant rush to judgment' and 'the rights of the main [that] are compromised by the elected few.' One Note ends, 'Do you know who you would call today if something catastrophic occurred in your life or in the life of someone you care for?' Best of Rolling Stone Every Super Bowl Halftime Show, Ranked From Worst to Best The United States of Weed Gaming Levels Up

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