self-critical-automaton

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thats the thing thats missing from america-centric discussion of fascism: this shit is global. every country in “the west” is seeing the same rise of fascism in real time, all of it focused on murdering migrants. like giorgia meloni is campaigning to deport people to “migrant camps” in albania. last year the greek coast guard outright drowned a boat of 500 asylum seekers. and as that last post said im not dismissing the suffering of people within the US, i’m just saying its so supremely frustrating that every conversation is about the minutiae of american domestic policy and not the horrifying ultranationalist global trend scapegoating arabs and africans.

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Queer Japan (2019) // dir. Graham Kolbeins

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NO

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Avian flu in North America: What we know as of Nov 16, 2024.

This post will have a west coast USA focus as that is where I live and currently a hotspot. Canadians are welcome to add on if they know more about their government response.

H5N1 is zoonotic. We do not know to what extent fully, but dairy cattle can carry it asymptomatically and pass it through their milk. The virus is killed by pasteurization (which you can do at home!). Do not drink raw milk right now (or ever maybe, but that’s another can of worms). Source: https://www.fda.gov/food/alerts-advisories-safety-information/investigation-avian-influenza-h5n1-virus-dairy-cattle

Cats can also get avian flu. It can be lethal to them. Source: https://www.woah.org/app/uploads/2023/07/qa-avian-influenza-in-cats.pdf

A teen in British Columbia is currently infected and in critical condition. We do not know the source of the infection. Source: https://www.cidrap.umn.edu/avian-influenza-bird-flu/canadas-national-lab-confirms-h5n1-hospitalized-teen

Oregon just had its first confirmed human case. Source: https://thehill.com/homenews/state-watch/4993916-cdc-detects-first-human-bird-flu-case-in-oregon/amp/

Woodland Park Zoo in Seattle just had an avian flu death of a not-on-display bird and is locking down all birds. Source: https://blog.zoo.org/2024/11/confirmed-avian-flu-case-at-woodland.html?m=1

H5N1 is being monitored in wastewater and is notably detected throughout California. Source: https://www.cdc.gov/nwss/rv/wwd-h5.html

CURRENT BEST PRACTICES FOR SAFETY:

As previously mentioned, do not consume raw dairy products.

It is believed to be airborne. Mask up - Covid and Avian Flu are threats still!

Wash hands before and after interactions with any birds.

Bring cats indoors.

If you have birds, do not allow people who have been in the area of recent outbreaks near birds. Require all visitors to step in diluted bleach foot baths. If possible, keep birds in limited and covered areas.

Any birds moving between areas should be quarantined for several weeks with zero cross contamination between them and other birds.

Please feel free to add further info I may have missed, or as it becomes known.

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ST@CEC 4: Deep Space Nine; In Charles’s Shadow

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when it’s really bad again and it’s still way better than it used to be but it’s still really bad. and you do all the right stuff and you try and try and it still really hurts but it’s working but it still hurts and you go see the beautiful majesty of nature and your soul is so close to being at peace but your mind is still in pain. and it’s better but it’s still bad. and the sun is setting.

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a whole bunch of gazan mutual aid projects and nonprofits. if the decision of which individual fundraiser to give to feels too daunting, or if you just want to help as many people as possible in one go, these are great initiatives to support.

care for gaza - focuses on providing food and essential supplies. donate here or here.

connecting humanity - securing internet access via donations of virtual sim cards (esims). if you can't afford a whole plan yourself, crips for esims is a communal pool that will use your donation to purchase and maintain esims

gaza soup kitchen - provides food, medical care, and classes for children. also has a gofundme

glia gaza medical support initiative - provides medical care through field clinics and tents at hospitals. donations can also be sent through their website.

ele elna elak - provides clean water, food, clothing, and shelter. they also have a gofundme

life for gaza - raising money for the gaza municipality to repair water and waste management infrastructure

taawon - partners with local civil organizations to provide food, water, medical care, shelter, and basic supplies

the sameer project - running various initiatives providing tents, medical care, and necessities. they have their own encampment project focused on sheltering families with children, sick and disabled members, or members in need of perinatal care

islamic relief worldwide's gaza emergency appeal - provides food, water, hygiene kits, medical supplies, and psychological support

baitulmaal - provides a variety of necessities, including food, water, shelter, and medical supplies

gaza mutual aid fund - distributes food, hygiene products, water, and other essential supplies, including financial support. run by @/el-shab-hussein's amazing friend Mona. updates can be found on her instagram.

hygiene kits for gaza - provides hygiene supplies including menstrual products, wipes, and toothbrushes/toothpaste

anera - provides a variety of necessities, including food, water, hygiene supplies, medicine, blankets and mattresses, and psychological care

palestine children's relief fund - provides supplies and support with a focus on children. also has an initiative for lebanon

certainly this is not an exhaustive list, so please feel free to add on other projects or organizations that i didn't include. and as always, please take the time to donate if you can and share. it truly makes all the difference.

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Bill Watterson just being a tremendously good artist.

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I wish there were medieval fantasy written by people who actually found the medieval period interesting

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some of you are beyond help im sorry. dry up

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Reading sports headlines while pretending sports doesn't exist suggests a fascinating world of magic and whimsy.

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i hate viruses so fucking much. literally getting attacked by a fucking shape. a concept. consumes no energy. responds to no stimuli. its only existence is to fuck with you. like fuck offf

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My YouTube channel is still mostly on hiatus but I've resumed streaming! Current schedule is Mon/wed/Fri at 8:00 pm UK time, with Mon/wed for full game playthrus and Fridays for ps1 emulation n _ n

I stream on twitch and you can

Check it out by clicking here

I'm currently playing through half life 2, and going live in about twenty minutes for that matter, tho I don't imagine many people will see this message in time

I also have a discord u can use to hear about upcoming streams or tell me I'm wrong about games, and a kofi and patron you can use to give me money if you want. All those links are on my twitch about page. Thanks for reading! Watch my streams! Tell other people to do that also!

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Hi! This is kind of a weird question but how/why was influenza (and other diseases that we have vaccines for now) so deadly 100-200 years ago? Obviously vaccines help tremendously, and probably immunity over time, but are there other reasons that the flu was a much bigger deal a century ago? Sorry if this is oddly specific, but my current project is historical. Thank you!

This is a very interesting question and there are a couple of different ways of looking at it.

Let's start with influenza:

[Note: it's surprisingly difficult to get good worldwide flu data, so I'm going to use US numbers for the purposes of this post.]

I think the first thing to understand is that unlike many other infectious diseases, influenza is substantially different every year. That means that the immunity that you build in 2017 from either the flu or the flu shot won't necessarily help prevent you from getting the flu in 2023. By then it will be a different enough virus that your previous immunity won't be as helpful. Though it might make it a little milder. But keep reading, I'll give you some fun facts to share at parties:

We name flu (A) viruses based on two different proteins on the surface of the virus. The proteins are "H" and "N". There are 16 different "H" proteins, and 9 different "N" proteins that we currently know of. The combination of the two forms the "name" of a particular flu virus. Think H1N1, or H5N6, or any other combination. Each combination has their own attributes, which contributes to how infectious or deadly they are in any given year. And which ones circulate are different every year.

Just mathematically, that's a lot of substantially different flu viruses. Hundreds of them, in fact. And you have to build immunity to each one individually. You could, say, build immunity to H2N5, but that would do little to save you from next year's H4N3. And not only that, but within a single type there are many smaller variations. For example, say you got H5N3, but then it went and mutated. If you then got exposed again, you might have some immunity to new!H5N3, but it could also be just different enough that you still get sick.

Like I said above, different types of flu virus are deadlier or spread faster than others. H5N1 (a type of avian flu with a human mortality rate of 52%) is terrifyingly deadly but fortunately doesn't spread particularly well, while H1N1 (the star of both the 1918 and 2009 flu seasons) spreads rapidly and kills primarily young adults (weird, since flu usually kills babies and old people).

This is why in 2009 we did the whole "close the schools vaccinate the teens hide the president" routine. Because if it was *that* H1N1 we were all about to be screwed in ways we had never experienced before. Fortunately it wasn't, but thank goodness we did it. Also if you got vaccine #2 in 2009, you are also protected against the 1918 strain of H1N1. You're gonna be a hit at parties with that one.

Now, if you look at only deaths (not the best measure, but one with some emotional punch), within the last decade alone we have years where 12,000 people died of flu in the US (2011-2012) and years where that number is as high as 61,000 (2017-2018). These numbers are similar throughout recent history (relative to population), but then you get years like 1968 (where 100,000 people died in the US) and 1957 (where 116,000 died), and then sometimes you get these wild whopping years like 1918 where 675,000 died (equivalent to 1,750,000 people dying in today's US population). These fluctuations have happened since Hippocrates was around, and probably long before that, and there's really nothing to suggest it's getting any milder in any statistically significant way.

Now, outside of these natural fluctuations, we do have some ways of driving down these numbers. We do have a vaccine. It is different every year, based on our prediction of what the most likely or dangerous types of flus will be this year. Fortunately, you do get to keep this immunity for some time, so you can look at the flu vaccine as a personal collection of different flu viruses you have immunity to- you can collect 2-3 different ones every year in one shot and you didn't even have to catch them!! Yay! Unfortunately, since we never reach herd immunity with the flu vaccine, and we can't perfectly predict and incorporate all the strains that will circulate in a given year, while you do get some protection, it's not ever perfect. But it *is* still worth it.

We also have other feats of modern medicine as backup to the flu vaccine. We have oxygen, antiviral drugs like tamiflu, immune modulating drugs, and technology like ventilators to help keep people alive in ways we would not be able to in previous generations. So that's also an advantage. Unfortunately, these don't always work either, and we are still at the whim of those yearly fluctuations in influenza virus deaths.

And really, if you ask any epidemiologist, covid is just a little trial run for the next Big One. Which is both extremely likely to be a flu virus and which we're statistically overdue for.

TL;DR: The flu isn't getting milder so much as it varies wildly in severity every year. The next major flu pandemic is probably going to be in our lifetimes, so start collecting your flu immunity now if you haven't yet. New collections drop every August and are available until April. Get em' while they're hot. This year's included a 2009-like strain of H1N1 and a delightful H3N2 number from Hong Kong.

As for All the Other Vaccine Preventable Illnesses:

*ahem*

Yes, it's vaccines. It's obviously vaccines. Its basically only vaccines. Anyone who has ever told you it's not vaccines is lying. No other major discovery of modern medicine has ever saved as many lives, prevented as many disabilities, and created as many opportunities for a life well lived as vaccines have. No antiviral drug, no antibiotic, no ventilator can even hold a candle to vaccines. The answer is f*cking vaccines*.

I hope I have made myself clear.

Enjoy this table:

*Yes I do have a masters degree in public health and am a registered nurse that interacts with the public regularly, how did you know?

-Ross @macgyvermedical

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Also preserved in our archive

by: Beck Levy

“Maybe now vocalists will finally start bringing their own mics,” I tweeted in the first days of March 2020. My virtual audience was mostly friends I met by participating in subcultures in and adjacent to the DIY tendency of hardcore punk rock. In those early days, we on the cultural fringes shared a sense that the pandemic, in its capacity as a social intervention, could meaningfully disrupt the oppressive ruling order.

When I booked and played shows before COVID-19 hit, I tried to harness energy and rally when crisis arose. Touring band is lost on the road? I was ready to DJ to keep people from leaving between sets. No one came to unlock the club? Let’s play in the parking lot. The last show I��d played, just weeks earlier during Mardi Gras, was on a trailer being pulled by a dump truck. We’re responsive to shifting circumstances, right?

I couldn’t get a clear look at the new terrain through the brutal haze of my first-wave infection. I was disoriented, waking up breathless, fevered, delirious from nightmares about drowning in my own blood. I could not fathom taking any action that would contribute to COVID-19 circulating, and my symptoms made me believe I would be a risk to my community. With home tests scarce, every flare had me conceiving of myself as though I might be a biological weapon.

Friends texted their fears to me frantically: “Is music over? Are shows done?” I thought back to informal and unconventional gigs, the freedom and potentiality those moments held, and reassured my friends, sequestered in our separate biomes. I said and believed: “Music always finds a way, youth culture always finds a way, underground culture always finds a way.”

Slowly, reimagined, remote, and socially-distanced events returned. In lieu of Jazz Fest, New Orleans radio station WWOZ charmed us with “festing in place” on the airwaves. I did a solo set in a virtual anniversary showcase for my old record label. Another friend live streamed a show from a cavernous church. I’d guessed performances mediated by technology might salt the wound, but desperate for connection, I treasured those experiences.

I watched my place in the world creep away from me. There were rumors of scandalous secret shows during lockdown. But the first real sign was pictures on Instagram of people traveling and touring again. Scroll to that last image: a row of COVID-19 tests, all negative, smug. Or positive, chagrined but only a little; a mismatch to the scale of: “For fun I traveled as a disease vector and personally participated in the proliferation of an airborne pathogen that can kill or maim.” Was it a character limit? A limitation of character?

The world passed me by, carouseling through normalization phases, like COVID-19 tests phasing their way out of tour posts. I watched scenes regroup from my new vantage point in biopolitical exile. Pandemic gloom catalyzed a spate of reunions, which is wholesome and beautiful except for the fact that at least one band knowingly toured with a member who tested positive.

Was I overreacting? While COVID-19 left me with an immune system that attacks my body, my mind attacked itself with this question. I’d traded amps for this mental feedback loop. The counterargument was implicit: people need unfettered access to music more than we need safety.

Live music came back. It just didn’t bring me with it.

I didn’t see a critical mass of bookers, venues, or bands advocating for COVID-19 safety with measures like outdoor shows, improved ventilation, livestream options, or just adding tests and masks to the earplug bin at the door. Some hand disinfectant; a little hygiene theater at conventional venues. The will just wasn’t there. I thought our deal was fuck the state, we’ll do it our way. I found myself slipping through the subcultural safety net that exists for outcasts who are slipping through the cracks of mass culture and late capitalism.

Of course, punk was already inaccessible to some. And I actually believe a certain amount of gatekeeping is necessary to protect punk from posers, jerks, and cops. But among the nebulous community clustered around shows, the sexism and racism people have experienced has always been very real, to the tune of entire zines, books, films about that exclusion. I monitored my heartbreak, critically. Resource-scarce, informal, and underground operations often exist at a quagmire of conflicting access needs. Was the sting of betrayal just this painful because it affected me, directly? Can the subaltern mosh?

There was a brief period where my baseline had plateaued, and I enjoyed medium-functionality between flares. Clinging to my modest recovery, a memorial service was my first congregant risk. That was the last time I tried to play guitar. I got the twisties, psychic vertigo from grief and from the contradiction of my setting and my experience, but the band played on, complete with a brass section. And at that otherwise beautiful event, I was ceremoniously reinfected by an asymptomatic tuba player. My health has been steadily deteriorating ever since.

Isolation is hard: it can feel like rejection, it can feel real personal. I struggled to adapt. I know I can have a persecution complex, but I also know I’m materially being made surplus. So what do I tell the complex? Are people being thoughtless, or do they explicitly not give a fuck about immunocompromised people like me?

Life is never totally safe, danger is often exciting, sometimes risk is the point. I know that. I’m not (just) a joyless scold. In the era of potentially deadly airborne pathogens, we’re playing with other lives when we make “individual” health decisions—I thought we’d learned that, but there was no such reckoning.

Punks accepted the sociological production of the end of the pandemic, moving in lockstep with the state, sacrificing medically vulnerable people on the altar of pleasure, just as the state had sacrificed us on the altar of capital. I thought our ingenuity would create new forms of shows. Instead, it exposed our limits under duress. To quote the band Allergic to Bullshit, “If this is what we’re for, this is what we’ll get.”

Maybe my shock seems naïve—after all, there’s a difference between “subculture” and “counterculture”—but there’s a reason I expected better. There are visionaries with love, passion, and fearlessness who organize shows in strip malls, caves, skateparks, churches, parking garages; shows with immediacy like distributing free Narcan, and conviction, like benefits toward Palestinian liberation. I await, with diminishing faith, the eruption of that tendency in the bioethical arena.

Since immune ableism is hegemonic, congregating is a question of building a realistic threat model, making decisions with people who are directly impacted by your actions, and taking all possible precautions. I’m encouraged by radical formations with accessibility modifications, particularly those connecting social abandonment, climate crisis, and genocide. I see this reflected in art book fairs that require masking, outdoor Shabbatot, test-first leftist reading groups. Queer and drag events are making adjustments. Mask blocs and clean air clubs collaborate, with limited resources, to make spaces more accessible. These are people who insist on collective health, demanding freedom to live and breathe clean air.

For those of us with severe Long COVID, exclusion from live music represents a profound loss of humanity. This disconnection feeds into my daily despair; in medical terms, my depersonalization/derealization. Having hoped this crisis would push us closer to communism than complacency, I feel whiplash, what Naomi Klein calls “political vertigo.” Millions of Americans with Long COVID have disappeared from the workforce. Data on the underground music scene are unavailable. It’s hard to count ghosts. I’ve wanted to ask: Have you noticed that some of us are gone? Do you ever miss us?

Four years later, I still can’t even make it to a well-filtered show. My last recreational outing ended in hospitalization from merely ascending a steep hill. I hear about shows from my roommate, the only person I see, who is also the only masked person at them. I tell myself I could try to go to an outdoor gig one day, maybe, if my governing health planets aligned. Instead of being an active musician, I pretend I’m like Jandek, a reclusive genius, but really I’m too clumsy and unfocused to play at home.

I do what I do with everything: act like I’m in a different world. It’s not difficult, because I am. The Well do their thing out there, I do mine in here. I moved across the country in search of better healthcare and, homebound, routinely forget I’m not still in New Orleans. Either way I am inside. I gave up and I don’t fight the world leaving me behind. I am back here, rolling the boulder of my body up steep hills.

In spite of everything, I’m glad shows continue. It’s bittersweet comfort knowing freaks are getting raucous in basements, with noise made by other freaks, sprayed with wet yells, aggressively jostling with teens; in a reprieve from control, experiencing music together. I’d die for your right to do that. And thanks to you, I just might.