dark

OVER one million people watched as Brittany Miller made the perfect roast potato over the weekend – for her perfect twins in her perfect home with her perfect smile.

But behind the 29-year-old influencer’s flawless façade lies a sinister web of lies which saw her fake cancer and con her followers. Now, for the first time we reveal the truth behind her shock scam – and why she’ll stop at nothing to achieve fame.

In 2017, Brittany was an unknown 21-year-old living in Oxfordshire, with dreams of becoming the next big social media influencer. Her small online community were then left shocked when she claimed to have been diagnosed with stage three gastric cancer. 

Her friends rallied around her – a crowdfunding page was set up to help support her financially and interest around her started growing.

But then just as fast as her cancer news started spreading – it then disappeared and wasn’t mentioned again. No trace of her extraordinary lie could be found online. 

It wasn’t until 2020 when Brittany collaborated with a breast cancer awareness charity that her former best friend decided to speak out – revealing the whole thing had been a scam. 

Brittany lied to us all – not just her friends but also her followers online

Former friend

The police have confirmed to The Sun that Brittany was indeed convicted of her crime – fraud by false representation.

In July 2020, she was given a conditional discharge for 12 months and was forced to pay compensation and costs to the Crown Prosecution Service. 

Her criminal record will no longer show up on basic checks, which has left her victims furious. 

Speaking anonymously, a former pal revealed that Brittany had in fact been the one to set up the JustGiving page and had begged her friends to circulate it for her.

They told us: “Brittany lied to us all – not just her friends but also her followers online. 

“Now people are following her and they have no idea what she is really like.

“Yes it happened years ago but lying about cancer is really wrong. Lots of her followers will have family members living with cancer but little do they know that every time they watch one of her videos, they are giving money to a fraud.”

MAKING CASH AND FALLING OUT

Indeed, Brittany has built herself a successful online career. Her videos are mostly her dishing up huge meals, making home comfort food or showing hauls from Temu or Shein.

It might not be groundbreaking stuff but she has 3.5 million people following her on TikTok.

Her boyfriend, Ash Griffiths, regularly features in her clips and in July last year she gave birth to identical twins, Elijah and Emiliano, who have also become a big part of her content. 

The couple recently moved into a plush new home in East Sussex, thanks to the proceeds from Brittany’s TikTok account.

Looking back, another friend recalled how Brittany would tell her she was in hospital, having treatment, including radiotherapy and would guilt trip her when she wasn’t available to hang out with her.

Things came to a head when the pal accused Brittany of stealing money from her grandma.

In messages seen by The Sun, someone appearing to be Brittany admits to taking the cash but blames it on the strong medication she was taking. The pair fell out shortly after. 

In the weeks and months after Brittany’s crime was revealed, there has been a lot of online speculation but she has never addressed what happened. 

The former pal told us: “Brittany has done what she can to erase her history and will delete any comments referencing it.

“It’s pretty scary to think she was happy to lie about cancer and makes you wonder just how far she will go to be super successful.

“This isn’t about getting revenge on her, it’s about people knowing the truth, which they deserve.”

PAST MISTAKES AND PRESENT ISSUES

The cancer scam wasn’t the only time Brittany has been caught telling lies.

In 2018, she was convicted of travelling on the railway without having paid the fare. She gave the officer of the railway company a fake name and address. She was fined £320. 

In recent months, Brittany’s parenting has also come under question and  she revealed how an anonymous hater had accused her of child abuse.

Ash, who is the father of their twins, was even quizzed on her being an alcoholic and a “druggy.”

I’m in the spotlight, I get millions of views every video, I get it, there’s nasty people out there

Brittany on her fame

Unlike in the past, Brittany decided to be very open about what had been going on and, in an emotional video, she acknowledged that someone reported her to social services, not only accusing her of child abuse, but holding her responsible for “lots of things”.

She confirmed that she “got questioned about everything” and was “really upset” when she spoke to them on the phone, so much so that she “kept having to pause” because she was crying so much.

No further action was taken but the whole incident left Brittany shaken up. 

She said at the time: “People are so desperate for my downfall and bringing me down, but bringing my children into it is ludicrous – why would you want to do that to them, innocent babies?

“Do what you want to me, whatever, but to them, innocent children who are clearly very happy and healthy babies, that’s crazy, you’re an actual weirdo, you’re an actual loser.”

Brittany added:  “Never in a million years did I think I’d have to go through something like this – obviously, I’m in the spotlight, I get millions of views every video, I get it, there’s nasty people out there, I understand that. 

“I just think, how cruel can you actually be? So, so cruel.”

It’s not just Brittany who has been left shaken up by it all – her former friends now fear they will be targeted by trolls accusing them of spreading lies to social services.

An insider said: “It feels like trouble follows Brittany. She might have this perfect life on social media but it’s not the truth. This drama with social services won’t be the last she’s involved in. But she’s built up an incredible following now – and they will support her, no matter what.”

Brittany has been contacted for comment.

When a Danish-flagged tanker named Torm Agnes quietly pulled into Mexico’s Port of Ensenada this spring, few took notice. The harbor, better known for cruise liners and pleasure yachts, seemed an unlikely setting for a large-scale energy delivery. But what followed was no ordinary unloading. Within hours, convoys of fuel-hauling trucks began siphoning off diesel from the tanker under the cover of night, an industrial cover that occurred so fast that witnesses said it operated “like clockwork.”

By morning, much of the shipment, worth roughly $12 million, had vanished into the Mexican black market. On paper, the cargo was listed as lubricants, exempt from Mexico’s high import taxes. In reality, it was a vast quantity of U.S.-sourced diesel smuggled by intermediaries working with one of Mexico’s most violent cartels; the Jalisco New Generation Cartel, or CJNG.

This was not a one-off operation. It was part of a sprawling, billion-dollar criminal enterprise linking Mexican cartels, U.S. traders, corrupt officials, and global shipping firms into what security analysts are now calling a “dark fleet.” And it underscores a deeper truth: the cartelization of Mexico’s energy market is no longer a localized issue, it’s a geopolitical problem touching the heart of North American trade, governance, and security.

A New Market Touched by Cartels:

For decades, Mexico’s cartels made their fortune in narcotics. Today, they are energy traders, exploiting systemic weaknesses in Mexico’s tax system and infrastructure to build empires rivaling legitimate fuel companies. According to Mexican officials, bootleg imports may now account for up to one-third of the country’s diesel and gasoline market, worth more than $20 billion a year.

The genius of the scheme lies in its simplicity. Mexico’s IEPS tax, a levy on imported fuels often exceeding 50% of a shipment’s value, creates a powerful incentive to cheat. Smugglers evade this tax by falsifying cargo documents, claiming their shipments contain lubricants or petrochemical additives, both of which are tax-exempt. The fake paperwork passes through customs with the help of bribes, while the actual diesel or gasoline floods Mexican markets at a discount.

Companies like Houston-based Ikon Midstream, which bought and shipped the Torm Agnes cargo, occupy the gray zone between legality and complicity. The firm purchased diesel in Canada, disguised it as lubricants in customs documents, and sent it to a Monterrey-based recipient called Intanza, a company authorities now suspect is a CJNG front.

It is the blending of formal and criminal economies that makes this phenomenon so dangerous. What once required violent pipeline theft now operates as a hybrid supply chain, complete with invoices, shipping manifests, and trade intermediaries. The same global infrastructure that powers legitimate energy commerce has been repurposed for organized crime.

The American connection:

The Ensenada case illustrates how deeply intertwined U.S. and Mexican energy systems have become. Nearly all the smuggled fuel originates in the United States or Canada. It passes through American ports, refineries, and shipping brokers, some unwitting, others complicit.

Texas, long a hub for legitimate fuel exports, has also become fertile ground for illicit operations. “The cartels have infiltrated many legitimate businesses along the border and further north,” warned Texas State Senator Juan Hinojosa, who has pushed for stricter licensing of fuel depots and transporters.

The U.S. Treasury Department and the Office of Foreign Assets Control  have since begun sanctioning dozens of Mexican nationals and companies tied to CJNG’s fuel operations. Yet the challenge lies in the complex nature of the trade; each shipment can involve multiple shell companies, international middlemen, and falsified documents. Even major firms like Torm, one of the world’s largest tanker operators, have been drawn into controversy. The company says it cut ties with Ikon Midstream after the Ensenada operation became public, citing contractual deception.

Meanwhile, the U.S. Department of Justice has already prosecuted American citizens for aiding cartel-linked fuel schemes. In May, a Utah father and son were charged with laundering money and supplying material support to CJNG by helping smuggle Mexican crude oil. Such cases highlight that America’s own regulatory and commercial systems are being leveraged to sustain the very criminal organizations Washington seeks to dismantle.

Mexico’s Shaky Governance:

For Mexico, the rise of cartel fuel empires is not just an economic issue, it’s an existential one. The Mexican Navy, once regarded as among the country’s least corrupt institutions, is now under internal investigation for its role in facilitating smuggling at ports. Senior naval and customs officials have been arrested in connection with illegal tanker operations, while President Claudia Sheinbaum’s administration has made combating fuel theft a cornerstone of its early tenure.

But even high-profile seizures barely scratch the surface. Since Sheinbaum took office in late 2024, authorities have confiscated an estimated 500,000 barrels of illegal fuel, less than a fraction of the $20 billion trade. Prosecutors investigating the racket face mortal danger. In August, Tamaulipas’ federal prosecutor was assassinated after leading raids that uncovered more than 1.8 million liters of illicit fuel.

This combination of organized crime, corruption, and governance failure is a hallmark of what political scientists call “criminal capture”, the point at which state institutions become functionally co-opted by illicit economies. With cartels operating as false energy corporations, Mexico’s sovereignty over its own fuel sector is seemingly a facade.

The Global Shadow Market:

The implications stretch beyond Mexico. The term “dark fleet” was first used to describe tankers smuggling sanctioned Russian and Iranian oil. Now, it applies equally to the vessels carrying contraband fuel across the Gulf of Mexico and Pacific coastlines.

These ships exploit the same legal and logistical loopholes that sustain global energy markets; open registries, layered ownership, and limited oversight in maritime trade. Once a vessel’s cargo is reclassified or offloaded at an unsanctioned port, tracing its origins becomes almost impossible.

For Western energy giants, this black-market competition is tangible. Shell’s decision to sell its retail operations in Mexico earlier this year was due in part to its inability to compete with cheaper cartel-supplied fuel. Bootleg diesel sells at a 5–10% discount below legitimate imports, enough to distort prices across an entire sector.

Meanwhile, the illusion of “cheap” fuel comes at extraordinary cost. Mexico’s treasury loses billions in tax revenue annually, honest importers are squeezed out, and legitimate workers are drawn into dangerous informal economies. The trade also erodes trust in North America’s supply chains, just as Washington and Mexico City struggle to deepen cross-border economic integration under the USMCA framework.

Cartel Infiltration into Trade Routes:

The evolution of cartels from narcotics traffickers to fuel traders reflects a broader transformation in organized crime. Cartels have always been adaptive enterprises, but their pivot into energy reveals strategy: fuel is legal, high-margin, and logistically complex, making it perfect for laundering money under the guise of legitimate trade.

In this new landscape, the line between criminal and commercial actor has blurred beyond recognition. A U.S. trader signing a fuel invoice in Houston may be unknowingly financing a cartel warehouse in Jalisco. A Danish shipping company fulfilling a contract may inadvertently be enabling tax evasion worth millions. And a Mexican port official turning a blind eye may be advancing the interests of a criminal enterprise larger than the state itself.

The Torm Agnes episode is not merely a tale of smuggling; it is an example showcasing globalization’s vulnerabilities. As supply chains grow more complex and opaque, the ability of states to control what passes through their borders diminishes.

What’s Next?

Mexico’s “dark fleet” is more than a law enforcement issue, it’s a test of North America’s supply chain security. If cartels can operate international fuel logistics networks using legitimate Western infrastructure, the implications reach far beyond Ensenada. It raises fundamental questions about regulation, accountability, and the complicity embedded in global commerce.

President Sheinbaum’s crackdown, combined with U.S. sanctions, suggests the beginnings of a coordinated response. But the scale of the challenge is daunting. As one former OFAC official put it, “The cartels are not just criminals anymore, they’re businessmen with global reach.”

Whether Washington and Mexico City can curb this hybrid economy will define not just the future of bilateral relations, but the credibility and stability of the global energy system itself.

Walt Disney Co. is alerting viewers that its channels may go dark on YouTube TV amid tense contract negotiations between the two television giants.

The companies are struggling to hammer out a new distribution deal on YouTube TV for Disney’s channels, including ABC, ESPN, FX, National Geographic and Disney Channel. YouTube TV has become one of the most popular U.S. pay-TV services, boasting about 10 million subscribers for its packages of traditional television channels.

Those customers risk losing Disney’s channels, including KABC-TV Channel 7 in Los Angeles and other ABC affiliates nationwide if the two companies fail to forge a new carriage agreement by next Thursday, when their current pact expires.

“Without an agreement, we’ll have to remove Disney’s content from YouTube TV,” the Google Inc.-owned television service said Thursday in a statement.

Disney began sounding the alarm by running messages on its TV channels to warn viewers about the blackout threat.

The Burbank entertainment company becomes the latest TV programmer to allege that the tech behemoth is throwing its weight around in contract negotiations.

In recent months, both Rupert Murdoch’s Fox Corp. and Comcast’s NBCUniversal publicly complained that Google’s YouTube TV was attempting to unfairly squeeze them in their separate talks. In the end, both Fox and NBCUniversal struck new carriage contracts without their channels going dark.

Univision wasn’t as fortunate. The smaller Spanish-language media company’s networks went dark last month on YouTube TV when the two companies failed to reach a deal.

“For the fourth time in three months, Google’s YouTube TV is putting their subscribers at risk of losing the most valuable networks they signed up for,” a Disney spokesperson said Thursday in a statement. “This is the latest example of Google exploiting its position at the expense of their own customers.”

YouTube TV, for its part, alleged that Disney was the one making unreasonable demands.

“We’ve been working in good faith to negotiate a deal with Disney that pays them fairly for their content on YouTube TV,” a YouTube TV spokesperson said in a statement. “Unfortunately, Disney is proposing costly economic terms that would raise prices on YouTube TV customers and give our customers fewer choices, while benefiting Disney’s own live TV products – like Hulu + Live TV and, soon, Fubo,” YouTube TV said.

Disney’s Hulu + Live TV competes directly with YouTube TV by offering the same channels. Fubo is a sports streaming service that Disney is in the process of acquiring.

YouTube said if Disney channels remain “unavailable for an extended period of time,” it would offer its customers a $20 credit.

The contract tussle heightens tensions from earlier this year, when Disney’s former distribution chief, Justin Connolly, left in May to take a similar position at YouTube TV. Connolly had spent two decades at Disney and ESPN and Disney sued to block the move, but a judge allowed Connolly to take his new position.

YouTube TV launched in April 2017 for $35 a month. The package of channels now costs $82.99.

To attract more sports fans, YouTube TV took over the NFL Sunday Ticket premium sports package from DirecTV, which had been losing more than $100 million a year to maintain the NFL service. YouTube TV offers Sunday Ticket as a base plan add-on or as an individual channel on YouTube.

Last year, YouTube generated $54.2 billion in revenue, second only to Disney among television companies, according to research firm MoffettNathanson.

The dispute comes as NFL and college football is in full swing, with games on ABC and ESPN. The NBA season also tipped off this week and ESPN prominently features those games. ABC’s fall season began last month with fresh episodes of such favorite programs as “Dancing with the Stars” and “Abbott Elementary.”

ABC stations also air popular newscasts including “Good Morning America” and “World News Tonight with David Muir.” Many ABC stations, including in Los Angeles, run Sony’s “Wheel of Fortune” and “Jeopardy!”

“We invest significantly in our content and expect our partners to pay fair rates that recognize that value,” Disney said. “If we don’t reach a fair deal soon, YouTube TV customers will lose access to ESPN and ABC, and all our marquee programming – including the NFL, college football, NBA and NHL seasons – and so much more.”

‘The big war may be over, but what about the many smaller wars that still await us here?’ Al Jazeera’s Maram Humaid explains the difficult decisions facing Palestinians in Gaza living amid the rubble and navigating on-going violence.

In “The Last Frontier,” which premieres Friday on Apple TV+, a plane carrying federal prisoners goes down in the Alaskan wilderness outside a town where Frank Remnick (Jason Clarke) is the U.S. Marshal. Eighteen passengers survive, among them a sort of super-soldier we will come to know as Havlock (Dominic Cooper). Sad intelligence agent Sidney Scofield (Haley Bennett) is sent to the scene by her dodgy superior (American treasure Alfre Woodard).

I won’t go into it in depth, especially given the enormous number of reveals and reversals that make up the plot; pretty much everything not written here constitutes a spoiler. The production is excellent, with well-executed set pieces — the plane crash, a tug-of-war between a helicopter and a giant bus, a fight on a train, a fight on a dam. (I do have issues with the songs on the soundtrack, which tend to kill rather than enhance the mood.) The large cast, which includes Simone Kessell as Frank’s wife, Sarah — they have just about put a family trauma behind them when opportunities for new trauma arise — and Dallas Goldtooth, William Knifeman on “Reservation Dogs,” as Frank’s right hand, Hutch, is very good.

It’s as violent as you’d expect from a show that sets 18 desperate criminals loose upon the landscape, which you may consider an attraction or deal killer. (I don’t know you.) At 10 episodes, with a lot of plot to keep in order, it can be confusing — even the characters will say, “It’s complicated” or “It’s not that simple,” when asked to explain something — and some of the emotional arcs seem strange, especially when characters turn out to be not who they seem. Things get pretty nutty by the end, but all in all it’s an interesting ride.

But that’s not what I came here to discuss. I’d like to talk about snow.

There’s a lot of snow in “The Last Frontier.” The far-north climate brings weather into the picture, literally. Snow can be beautiful, or an obstacle. It can be a blanket, as in Eliot’s “Winter kept us warm, covering Earth in forgetful snow,” or a straitjacket, as in 2023’s “A Murder at the End of the World,” a Christie-esque murder mystery that trapped the suspects in an Icelandic luxury hotel. It’s part of the aesthetic and part of the action, which it can slow, or stop. It can be deadly, disorienting, as when a blizzard erases the landscape (see the first season of “Fargo”). And it requires the right clothes — mufflers, fur collars, wool caps, big boots, gloves — which communicate coziness even as they underscore the cold.

The snowy landscape in shows like “The Last Frontier” is part of the aesthetic and action.

(Apple)

Even when it doesn’t affect the plot directly, it’s the canvas the story is painted on, its whiteness of an intensity not otherwise seen on the screen, except in starship hallways. (It turns a moody blue after dark, magnifying the sense of mystery.) Growing up in Southern California — I didn’t see real snow until I was maybe 10? — I was trained by the movies and TV, where all Christmases are white if the budget allows, to understand its meaning.

It was enough that “The Last Frontier” was set in Alaska (filmed in Quebec and Alberta) to pique my interest, as it had been for “Alaska Daily,” a sadly short-lived 2022 ABC series with Hilary Swank and Secwépemc actor Grace Dove as reporters looking into overlooked cases of murdered and missing Indigenous women. This may go back to my affection for “Northern Exposure” (set in Alaska, filmed in Washington state), with its storybook town and colorful characters, most of whom came from somewhere else, with Rob Morrow’s New York doctor the fish out of water; “Men in Trees” (filmed in British Columbia, set in Alaska) sent Anne Heche’s New York relationship coach down a similar trail. “Lilyhammer,” another favorite and the first “exclusive” Netflix series, found Steven Van Zandt as an American mobster in witness protection in a Norwegian small town; there was a ton of snow in that show.

It serves the fantastic and supernatural as well. The polar episodes of “His Dark Materials” and “Monarch: Legacy of Monsters,” the icebound sailing ships of “The Terror” live large in my mind; and there’s no denying the spooky, claustrophobic power of “Night Country,” the fourth season of “True Detective,” which begins on the night of the last sunset for six months, its fictional town an oasis of light in a desert of black. In another key, “North of North,” another remote small town comedy, set in Canada’s northernmost territory among the Indigenous Inuit people is one of my best-loved shows of 2025.

But the allure of the north is nothing new. Jack London’s Yukon-set “White Fang” and “The Call of the Wild” — which became an Animal Planet series for a season in 2000 — entranced readers back around the turn of the 19th century and are still being read today.

Of course, any setting can be exotic if it’s unfamiliar. (And invisible if it’s not, or annoying — if snow is a thing you have to shovel off your walk, its charm evaporates.) Every environment suggests or shapes the stories that are set there; even were the plots identical, a mystery set in Amarillo, for example, would play differently than one set in Duluth or Lafayette.

I’ll take Alaska.