#[IC] Cornell

[musicmags]

[myimaginationplain]

this is what jon snow looks like to #me

[xamassed]

⟬ @box-of-characters ⟭

"There… That should take care of the pain for the most part, but I suggest taking it easy and resting when you can."

The soft glow that had once enveloped the unicorn's hand soon faded away, revealing the swelling around Anita's twisted ankle had gone down significantly. Normally he wouldn't go out of his way to interact with hikers and the like for obvious reasons, but he hadn't been expecting to run into someone this far out in the woods. People usually, you know, stuck to the path.

After standing up and dusting off his tunic, Cornell reached out and offered to help Anita stand.

"Sorry if this seems rude, but…. why are you all the way out here? I could have sworn that the hiking paths were nowhere near this part of the wood."

"Resting sounds good and all, but. . ." She cut herself off with a grunt as her hand clasped onto the one offered, all of her weight pulled into standing by someone she didn't assume was strong until now. Anita would answer his perfectly acceptable question, but she felt inclined to test her ankle first.

She gave it a slow and cautious twist, the muscle that shifted underneath twinging and pulling a small, pained hiss from the brunette. "They aren't, but I wanted to push myself a little. Thought it might be cool to see what else was around here, but I guess I must have stepped a little too far from the path."

Dark eyes dart from her ankle to the the stranger, whose whole presence alone was strange and made picking out one feature to focus on impossible.

"So. . . we gonna talk about this?" A vague gesture was made in his direction. "Pretty sure I was taught unicorns don't exist — if you are a unicorn. I'm just kind of assuming with, y'know, the horn being all out in the open there. Could be a narwhal thing. Narwhals are the thing out in the water, right? Are you one of those?"

[agmagazinescans]

Pest Control

American Girl Magazine, November/December 1999

[Ko-Fi Donations]

[anaquariusthatlikestowrite]

Ice cube is not a good person neither is Cornell West.

[thefirsthogokage]

Fuck AMPTP and the bullshit going on. I'm tired, might not do this well:

(link to article in above picture) From The Article

Receiving positive feedback from Wall Street since the WGA went on strike May 2, Warner Bros Discovery, Apple, Netflix, Amazon, Disney, Paramount and others have become determined to “break the WGA,” as one studio exec blatantly put it.

To do so, the studios and the AMPTP believe that by October most writers will be running out of money after five months on the picket lines and no work.

“The endgame is to allow things to drag on until union members start losing their apartments and losing their houses,” a studio executive told Deadline. Acknowledging the cold-as-ice approach, several other sources reiterated the statement. One insider called it “a cruel but necessary evil.”

The studios and streamers’ next think financially strapped writers would go to WGA leadership and demand they restart talks before what could be a very cold Christmas. In that context, the studios and streamers feel they would be in a position to dictate most of the terms of any possible deal.

[Image IDs: Twitter thread by David Slack posted July 12th, 2023 that reads in totality:

And right on cue, here’s the inevitable Deadline article claiming that the AMPTP and their CEO bosses are ready to wait us out and let us “go broke.”

They’re not. They can’t. This studio propaganda, and here’s why.

In the increasingly mega-merged and hedgefundified Hollywood, these companies live or die on their quarterly earnings reports. It only takes one bad quarter for their stock price to plunge, putting the company and the CEO’s job in jeopardy.

But their stock prices are holding steady, right? Right. For now. Because our industry is a pipeline that starts with writers. The TV and movies they’re releasing now are shows we started making for them 4-12 quarters ago. But what happens when that pipeline runs dry?

What happens is they run out of product. No new shows in streaming to drive and sustain subscribers. No new shows in broadcast and ad-supported to bring in ad revenue.

No shows, no money.

No money, bad earnings report.

Bad earnings report, bye-bye stock price. Bye-bye CEO.

After 70+ days with no writers to create their product for them, the pipeline is running dry.

Their stock price isn’t tanking yet. But if they don’t make a deal with us, it will.

And they know it.

If they make a deal soon, they might be able to weather it. Stretch out releases. Rush some new stuff through.

But the longer they keep us out, the longer that pipeline runs dry, the more unavoidable a catastrophic dip in new high-quality shows becomes.

And they know it.

So yeah, the studios are planting articles in the trades that make it sound like they’re so determined not to pay us the 0.02% of company revenues we’re asking for that they’re willing to hold out forever.

Bullshit.

I’m sure the AMPTP bosses would love to break our union. But they love their jobs more. They love money more. They can’t make that money without us.

And they know it.

Ignore the trades, walk the line, stand together, and win. #WGAStrong

/End ID]

Bonus: John Rogers' Reaction

[Image ID: A tweet from John Rogers that he posted July 12th, 2023 that reads:

I was trying to be cool and professional about this strike, but this AMPTP “we want to drive them to homelessness” shit means I’m going to be dug in at WB Gate 4 like Hiroo Onada. They’re gonna have to send @ellenstutzman with a bullhorn to order me out of the bushes.

The second image is Ellen Stutzman's Twitter bio that says:

Cheif Negotiator for WGA MBA, Assistant Executive Director, Writers Guild of America, West; Cornell ILR and UCLA Anderson alum. Views are my own.

/End ID]

EDIT: Please see the update on this HERE

[childrenofcain-if]

How would it go if D who is dating an ice hockey player MC brings C with them to one of their matches and a fist fight breaks out? Maybe C has a crush on MC too and D is oblivious to it, how would the situation progress with MC probably getting injured enough to be taken out of the ice rink?

yale (bulldogs) vs cornell (big red).

the rink was a mess of noise and light, the kind of messiness that felt alive. your breath was sharp and crystalline as it hung in front of you. people screamed and clapped, the sharp staccato of skates carving into the ice filling the spaces between.

you loved this chaos, lived for it, even as it burned you out and left your body aching after every game. out here, you could be faster, stronger, louder than anyone else.

out here, you could fucking fly.

the vulcanized rubber of the puck ricocheted down the ice, fast and chaotic, and you tracked it like it was an extension of yourself, your heartbeat syncing to its movement. the yale team was ahead by one goal, skating circles around cornell, but that only seemed to make the opposing players meaner.

you felt the weight of the game—not just in the tension of your teammates, or the pressure of the crowd roaring overhead, but in the knowledge that D was somewhere in the stands.

you played better when D was watching. or worse. sometimes you couldn’t tell the difference.

somewhere up there, you knew C was sitting too, probably sulking in a way only they could. they weren’t a fan of the sport; they’d made that much clear when D dragged them along, but there was a difference between disliking hockey and being openly disdainful of it.

“barbaric,” you’d overheard them mutter before the game, their pale green eyes flitting over the players warming up like they were looking at a pack of wolves tearing into raw meat. D had hushed them, giddy with excitement to see you in action.

the fight broke out midway through the third period.

the puck was in play. bodies collided in a brutal display of threats and warnings.

it wasn’t unexpected. cornell had been playing dirty all night, their players shoving and slashing at every opportunity, their frustration palpable as yale maintained its lead.

you were in the thick of it, skating like your life depended on it, when one of the defense player from the opposing team slammed into you from the side.

it wasn’t clean. you knew it wasn’t clean from the angle of the hit and the way your body crumpled, momentum snapping you into the boards. pain bloomed sharp and immediate, radiating through your ribs and into your skull. you didn’t even remember hitting the ice, but there you were, face pressed to the freezing surface, tasting blood where it trickled over your lips.

the crowd erupted, voices blurring into a cacophony of yells.

“foul play!”

“medic! medic!”

“get them off the ice!”

but most of all, you heard D.

“hey!” their voice was a thunderous roar, raw and furious, cutting through the chaos. “what the hell was that?!”

you tried to move—tried to push yourself up, to prove you were fine—but your body refused. each breath felt like a knife twisting in your side, and the cold seeped deeper into you as blood pooled, bright red against the ice.

then there was C, somehow faster than even D, their face pale and eyes wide as they knelt beside you.

“don’t move,” they snapped, their voice more cutting than you’d ever heard it. “jesus christ, do you knuckleheaded jocks even think about not being violent?”

you blinked up at them, your vision swimming. their usual controlled exterior was cracked wide open, panic bleeding through like light through glass.

“you’re bleeding,” C said, their voice tight, like they weren’t used to caring out loud.

“observant,” you managed, though your words slurred, and you could feel your lips trying to curve into a grin. “so, lacroix… do you come here often?”

“shut up,” C said, but their hand hovered too close to your face, like they wanted to touch you but there was an invisible barrier preventing them from doing so.

by then, D was there too, shoving someone out of the way to drop to their knees on the other side of you.

“baby,” they said, and their voice cracked, softening into something almost broken. “you’re okay, right? talk to me.”

“totally,” you said, though the pain was building, and each breath was harder than the last. “just a teensy bit winded.”

D’s hand found yours, firm and grounding, but C’s hadn’t moved either. you realized, belatedly, that the latter had been holding your other hand the whole time, their grip tight enough to hurt.

the medics swarmed in, voices calm and professional, but it seemed like D wasn’t done. they looked up, their gunmetal gray eyes locking onto the player who’d slammed into you.

“you,” they spat, their tone cold enough to drop the temperature in the rink even more. then they were up, and you felt the loss of their hand like a sudden, jarring absence of your own limb.

“don’t,” you wheezed, but it was too late. D was already halfway across the ice, shoving someone and shouting.

you heard the sharp clatter of a stick being thrown to the ice, and then the unmistakable noise of a scuffle breaking out.

“don’t touch me, asshole!” that was D. “you think you can get away with that cheap shot? i’m gonna rearrange your face, you cu—”

the sounds of your teammates pulling them back. the hiss of voices trying to calm them.

“get off me! that fucker’s gonna pay!”

“unbelievable,” C muttered, their voice shaking. “is this really the appropriate time to be starting a fistfight?”

despite the pain, you grinned at that, delirious and stupid, your head swimming.

“they love me,” you said, slurring the words as the medics strapped you to a stretcher. you squinted at C, tilting your head as if seeing at them for the first time. “you… your eyes are the prettiest shade of green i’ve ever seen.”

C froze, their face going through a rapid series of expressions—shock, fear, happiness, embarrassment—before settling on a scowl.

“you’re concussed, starkid,” they muttered simply, but their hand didn’t let go until the medics physically moved them out of the way.

***

the wait at yale new haven hospital was excruciating.

C sat stiffly in one of the metallic chairs, arms crossed, a picture of barely-contained tension. D paced in front of them, their fists still raw and red from the fight, their mouth a thin, angry line.

“what was that?” D asked suddenly, an accusatory tone creeping into their voice.

C blinked, their head snapping up. “what was what?”

“you know what,” D said, their gunmetal gray eyes narrowing as they stopped pacing to glare at C. “back at the rink. you were—you were way too worried about them for someone who’s always going on and on about how much you despise them.”

C scoffed, their lips curling into a sneer that didn’t quite reach their eyes. “don’t be ridiculous.”

“you know i’m not,” D shot back, their tone icy and measured. “you looked like you were about to fall apart back there.”

C’s hands clenched in their lap, their nails biting into their palms. “i’m not a sociopath, D. they’re your partner, aren’t they? of course i—”

“bullshit,” D interrupted, their voice rising. “don’t insult my intelligence right now, C.”

C’s lips parted, but no sound came out. for a moment, they just stared at D, their chalcedony green eyes wide and fearful in a way the rockstar had never seen before.

before either of them could say anything else, the door to the waiting room opened, and the sports physician stepped in.

“they’re stable,” the doctor said, her voice calm but professional. “a mild concussion and a few stitches, but they’ll be okay.”

D let out a breath they didn’t realize they’d been holding, their shoulders sagging with relief.

C stayed silent, their gaze fixed on the floor, their hands trembling despite their best efforts to hide it.

the questions would come later. for now, D was focused on getting to you, on making sure their partner was okay.

but in the back of their mind, they couldn’t shake the memory of C’s face when you’d gone down—the open, unguarded fear that didn’t make sense, the way their hands had reached for you like you were something they couldn’t bear to lose or see hurt.

something wasn’t adding up, and the possibilities that D’s mind conjured up made them more disturbed than words could convey.

[vague-humanoid]

Black Student Under Attack! Protect Momodou Taal.

The union that represents graduate students at Cornell University is demanding that the institution bargain over the suspension of Momodou Taal, a British PhD student who was suspended after participating in a pro-Palestinian protest that shut down a career fair on campus.

Because Taal is an international student, his visa is linked to his enrollment at the university, meaning suspension and withdrawal from the university will force him out of the country.

Over 150 demonstrators with Cornell Graduate Students United marched to Cornell’s Day Hall on Wednesday to protest the decision, which some described as a pattern of mistreatment by their university and employer.

“Cornell wants to appoint itself judge, jury and ICE agent just when graduate workers disagree with it,” Sadie Seddon-Stettler, a union member and physics PhD student, told the crowd.

The union is currently engaged in negotiations for their first contract with Cornell and recently reached a memorandum of agreement governing graduate worker discipline until a contract is agreed upon. The agreement includes the ability to bargain on suspensions from employment.

[mysticstronomy]

IS THERE WATER FLOATING IN SPACE??

Blog#420

Saturday, July 20th, 2024.

Welcome back,

Two teams of astronomers have discovered the largest and farthest reservoir of water ever detected in the universe.

The body of water is notably significantly larger than all of the water on planet Earth. And according to the scientists, it is the equivalent to 140 trillion times all the water in the world's ocean.

There is little chance you would spot it looking through your own telescope however, as the body of water surrounds a huge feeding black hole called a quasar, which is more than 12 billion years away.

Pretty mind-bending, right?

The observations made by the scientists have revealed a time where the universe was just 1.6 billion years old.

Matt Bradford, a scientist at NASA's Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena, California, spoke of the discovery and said it showed that water can be found throughout the universe.

"The environment around this quasar is unique in that it's producing this huge mass of water,” he said. "It's another demonstration that water is pervasive throughout the universe, even at the very earliest times."

Quasars are considered massive celestial objects and emit large amounts of energy. Gas and dust falling into a supermassive black hole, that are at the centre, emit electromagnetic radiation across the entire electromagnetic spectrum.

Both groups of astronomers studied a particular quasar called APM 08279+5255, which harbors a black hole 20 billion times more massive than the sun and produces as much energy as a thousand trillion suns. So a fair bit.

Bradford’s team was able to get more information about the water, most notably its incredible mass as they detected several spectral signatures of the water.

Prior to this discovery, astronomers had never found water vapor present this far back in the early universe. There is water elsewhere in the Milkyway - however, most of it is frozen in ice.

Astronomers are hoping to learn more about the distant universe and those in the study proposed a 25-meter telescope to be built in the Atacama Desert in Chile.

In 2020, the telescope’s name was changed from Cerro Chajnantor Atacama Telescope (CCAT) to Fred Young Submillimeter Telescope (FYST) after Cornell alumnus Fred Young supported the telescope for about 2 decades with 16 million dollars.

Originally published on https://www.unilad.com

COMING UP!!

(Wednesday, July 24th, 2024)

"HOW LONG CAN A HUMAN FLOAT IN SPACE??"

[sonyaheaneyauthor]

How Russian colonialism took the Western anti-imperialist Left for a ride

Blindness to Russian colonialism distorts Westerners’ view of the Ukraine war

"Fucking shit Russian car," my driver spat as a Lada sedan passed us on the highway from Georgia's capital of Tbilisi to Stepantsminda during my trip there in 2019, shortly after our long conversation touched on Russia's 2008 invasion of Georgia.

His momentary flash of anger was an eye-opening glimpse at the consequences of Russia's steadfast refusal to let go of the 14 nations whose independence following the 1991 collapse of the Soviet Union dictator Vladimir Putin infamously called "the greatest geopolitical catastrophe of the century" – not to mention the ethnic minorities still under Moscow's yoke – and its brutal punishment of Georgia and Ukraine for daring to seek a bright future outside of Russia's sunless orbit.

The full-scale invasion of Ukraine has cast a long-overdue spotlight on Russian imperialism and colonialism, yet many Westerners fail to grapple with how Russia's colonial legacy continues to this day and is part and parcel to its war against Ukraine and descent into fascism. Consequently, many end up whatabouting, excusing and even overtly sympathizing with an empire whose colonial practices mirror those of historical Western European empires in cruelty, chauvinism, thievery, exploitation, cultural erasure, racism and genocide and that is now ruthlessly attempting to conquer one of its neighbors.

Russia displayed that ruthlessness last week when it lobbed missiles at Odesa, damaging port and grain storage facilities as well as its historic center, a UNESCO World Heritage site.

"They're interested in lands and influence and a buffer zone between them and the West, in sea access – but not in people and not in culture," said Ukrainian Parliament adviser Yuliia Shaipova who, together with her husband, Aspen Institute NextGen Transatlantic Initiative member Artem Shaipov, was at home in Odesa after hiding in a nearby bomb shelter.

Yet, Westerners safe from bombardment like long-shot third-party presidential candidate Cornel West continue to accommodate Russia. In a July 13 interview with CNN's Kaitlan Collins, West called Russia's invasion "criminal" but insisted it was "provoked by the expansion of NATO" and is a "proxy war between the American Empire and the Russian Federation," adding Neville Chamberlain-esque icing on the appeasement cake by proposing Ukrainian territorial concessions to Russia.

The tell in West's remarks was calling the U.S. an empire but referring to Russia by its de jure name, implicitly erasing its imperial, colonial character. It's a common tendency among the segment of the left to which West belongs, one that Kazakhstan-born Pitzer College sociology professor Azamat Junisbai attributes to ignorance and a myopic, know-nothing focus on American imperialism to the exclusion of imperialism by other nations.

"They're kind of imperial about their anti-imperialism," Junisbai said. "There's something very provincial and strange about it where you literally do not know anything about what's happening beyond this one issue you care about."

While West and other leftists blame "NATO expansion" for provoking Russia, Junisbai compares NATO membership – which, after all, the former Warsaw Pact and Baltic countries all sought voluntarily – to a restraining order against an abusive partner.

"People don't recognize that there was an abusive relationship, that there was colonialism," he said, speculating that blindness to Russian colonialism could be due to a failure of Western education systems as well as Soviet propaganda and leftist valorization of the Soviet Union as a foe of Western imperialism. Another potential culprit is knee-jerk distrust toward American foreign policy popular among some leftists and alternative media that leads to a simplistic "the enemy of my enemy is my friend" worldview.

"People, I think, just get so wedded to their vision of themselves as fighting 'The Man,' fighting the power that they are blinded and taken for a ride by Russia, in this case serving as useful idiots," Junisbai said.

Both Yuliia and Artem Shaipov pointed the finger at academic studies of Russia in the West that view it through Moscow's imperial lens. The two have published articles advocating for a "decolonization" of Russia studies and greater attention to how veneration of the "great Russian culture" – such as the genocide- and conquest-glorifying literature of Mikhail Lermontov and Alexander Pushkin – has provided a conduit for Russian imperialist ideology to sneak into the Western mind.

"Part of the reason is that it's Western academia that kind of perpetuates this imperial understanding of our region that benefits Russia's imperial policies," Shaipov said, pointing to how Western academic institutions place Ukraine and other post-Soviet nations under Russia's geopolitical umbrella of "Eurasia." "It speaks volumes about the reasons why still many people in the West see Ukraine and other independent states as the sphere of influence of Russia."

The resulting sympathy for Russia's imperial worldview finds expression among Western academics, media personalities and activists who deny Ukrainians' agency in repeating the Kremlin conspiracy theory that Ukraine's 2014 Revolution of Dignity was a "U.S.-backed coup" – as if Ukrainians couldn't have removed outrageously corrupt Kremlin stooge Viktor Yanukovych from office after his security forces murdered over 100 peaceful protesters without foreigners pulling the strings – or characterize former communist nations' NATO membership as provoking Russia rather than protecting them from it.

And it's a mindset rooted in over 400 years of imperialism and colonialism that caused atrocities as horrific as those of Spain or Britain.

Russia's conquest of Siberia starting in the 1580s, for instance, included the enslavement of indigenous peoples whom it forced to pay tribute in the form of furs known as yasak on pain of death, resulting in starvation as people struggled to meet yasak quotas instead of feeding themselves in a system some historians have compared to Belgian King Leopold II's enslavement of the Congo. Russian Cossack gangs raped and murdered while Orthodox missionaries stamped out native religions and alcoholism and smallpox decimated local populations. Today, indigenous people in Siberia and the Russian Far East frequently live in poverty while Moscow strips their lands' rich natural resources to line the pockets of oligarchs and fuel the glitz of cities like Moscow and St. Petersburg, while their men disproportionately make up the cannon fodder that Russia sends to the Ukrainian front.

"If we take the Russia that is situated behind the Urals – the Central Asian part of Russia, the far East Asian parts of Russia, the [northernmost parts of Russia] – the cities are just being used for extractive purposes, so [the Russians] don't care even about their own people and minorities that are in Russia itself," Shaipova said, noting how nearly all of their enormous wealth goes to the Russian metropole. "So basically, take Norilsk or Irkutsk – those cities look like an atomic bomb has exploded there."

In the Caucasus, where Russia vied with the Ottoman and Persian empires for power, the Muslim Circassians, who had inhabited the area for millennia, resisted Russian domination. So in 1857, Tsar Alexander II ordered their expulsion to the Ottoman Empire under a proposal by Count Dmitri Milyutin, who said it would "cleanse the land of hostile elements" and open their farmland for Christian settlers. The result was the Circassian genocide in which nearly the entire Circassian population was killed or expelled to the Middle East, where most Circassians live today.

Junisbai's own life is a testament to Russia's thorough colonization of his country, which began in earnest in the 18th century after Russia conquered it. His mother tongue is Russian rather than Kazakh thanks to generations of Russification that made learning Russian essential to get ahead while casting indigenous languages by the wayside. That led to him being conditioned to look down on Kazakhs who could not speak Russian properly while growing up in Almaty, whose population during the Soviet era was about four-fifths Russian and had only two Kazakh-language schools in the early 1980s, while Kazakhs largely lived in rural areas. Meanwhile, his great-grandfather was a member of the Kazakh intelligentsia, for which the Soviets executed him at Omsk in 1935 during Stalin's purges. Consistent with Russia's pattern of extractive relationships with its colonies, Moscow picked Kazakhstan as the place to test nuclear weapons, Junisbai's mother growing up only a couple hundred miles from a testing site.

The 2022 invasion of Ukraine brought to the forefront the issues of language and Russian colonialism that Junisbai had been thinking about for a while. Today, he spells Kazakhstan's name as "Qazaqstan," reflecting the native pronunciation, rather than the more common Russian-based spelling.

"This invasion – just the scale of it and how blatantly imperialist it was – was a point of no return," he said, regarding how it got him thinking more about those issues. "Like how strange and horrible it is that I am stuck with Russian, and it's like having something stuck in my body, and I cannot remove it."

In contrast with its terrestrial empire building, Russia didn't have as much luck overseas, as its North American and Hawaiian colonies proved unsuccessful, along with its lesser-known attempt to partake in that most infamous example of European colonialism, the 19th-century Scramble for Africa.

Russia's covetousness toward Ukraine differs somewhat from its other colonization activities, but comes from the same underlying desire to subjugate. It stems from the popular myth that Russia is the legitimate heir to the medieval state of Kyivan Rus, centered on modern-day Kyiv, which Putin cited in a July 2021 pseudohistorical essay denying Ukraine's right to sovereignty, "On the Historical Unity of Russians and Ukrainians." But as Ukrainian historian Serhii Plokhy points out in his new book, "The Russo-Ukrainian War," although the Grand Principality of Moscow – later called Muscovy – derived much of its culture from Kyivan Rus, 15th-century ruler Ivan the Great invented the myth of Muscovy's inextricable link to it by declaring himself the sole legitimate heir to the Kyivan princes in order to justify his conquest of the Republic of Novgorod.

"The independent Russian state, born of the struggle between Moscow and Novgorod, resulted from the victory of authoritarianism over democracy," Plokhy writes.

Shaipov said Muscovy inherited its political culture not from Europe, but from the Mongol Empire of which it had long been a vassal.

"This is their political tradition of authoritarianism, oppression and continuous imperial conquest," he said.

Ukrainians learned that the hard way in the mid-1600s when Ukrainian Cossacks rebelled against their Catholic Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth rulers and established an independent state, seeking protection from their Orthodox co-religionists in Muscovy. But after helping them achieve victory, their Muscovite allies sought to dominate them, leading to another Ukrainian Cossack rebellion in 1708 that soon allied with Sweden. Muscovy defeated them at the Battle of Poltava in 1709, and in 1721, under Tsar Peter I, Muscovy became the Russian Empire.

In other words, Russian claims of lordship over Ukraine are about as credible as if British leaders called decolonization a "geopolitical catastrophe" and then dredged up medieval manuscripts to make the case against Irish independence.

The Russian Empire collapsed with the 1917 October Revolution, but that tradition of authoritarianism, oppression and imperial conquest persisted as the empire got a new coat of paint, trading tsars for commissars and rebranding as the U.S.S.R.

Numerous nations under Russian rule for centuries declared independence – including Ukraine as well as Belarus, Georgia, Armenia, the Tatar-led Idel-Ural State and others. But the Bolsheviks quickly invaded nearly all of them, forcing them into the newly established Soviet Union, which reoccupied the Baltic nations after World War II, leaving only Finland independent. In Ukraine, Stalin caused the Holodomor, a genocidal famine that depopulated most of the country's east, allowing its resettlement by Russians. In 1944, he accused indigenous Crimeans – for whom even the term "Crimean Tatars," Shaipov noted, is a misnomer with colonialist undertones – of collaborating with the Nazis and deported them all, allowing Russians to become a majority in Crimea too.

Those malign political traditions continued after 1991 as Russia crushed the fledgling Chechen Republic of Ichkeria and Tatarstan and sponsored pro-Russia breakaway states in Moldova's Transnistria region and the Georgian regions of Abkhazia and South Ossetia, where Russia used false accusations of genocide as a pretext for its 2008 invasion, a tactic it would rehash in Ukraine six years later.

And they live on today in Russia's nationalist, imperialist, bloodthirsty and downright genocidal "Z" propaganda for domestic audiences.

Even Russian liberals remain far from untainted. While Westerners lionize Alexei Navalny as a freedom fighter, Junisbai highlighted his history of racism toward Central Asians.

"Navalny is not really well-liked in Central Asia because he's the person who contributed to hate crimes against Central Asians in Russia," Junisbai explained, lamenting how many Westerners continue to see that part of Navalny's past as marginal.

Navalny also drew scorn for a series of tweets on July 25 in which he called Russian war criminal Igor Girkin a "political prisoner" following his arrest for criticizing Putin.

Shaipov and Shaipova pointed to how Jan Rachinsky, the head of Memorial, rejected the idea of Russian repentance for waging war against Ukraine in his Nobel Peace Prize lecture last year.

"This understanding of themselves as an empire is part of their national identity, and this is also what concerns the so-called Russian liberals," Shaipova said.

At the same time, Junisbai said people inside Russia consistently fail to acknowledge their nation's colonial history.

"The surest way to offend a Russian person is to talk about colonialism or Russians as colonizers," he said

Instead, Russians overwhelmingly view themselves – in true colonialist form – as having civilized Central Asians, believing they were illiterate before Russia introduced Cyrillic, despite Junisbai's grandfather having written in Arabic script, and that if not for Russia they would still be riding horses and living in yurts.

"It's just like, 'we built your schools, we built your hospitals – how dare you be disrespectful, how dare you not appreciate us,'" he said.

This lack of self-awareness stands in stark contrast with European nations that decolonized and, although in fits and starts, today seek to atone for past injustices. In 2021, Germany formally apologized for genocide in Namibia in the early 1900s, while Queen Camilla declined to wear a crown at King Charles' coronation bearing the Kohinoor diamond, which Britain plundered when it ruled India.

Shaipov and Shaipova said Russia must also undergo decolonization, a process the world should not fear.

"In order for them to heal, they need to go through this healing process and repentance so that they can reconcile with neighboring countries and with the peoples that populate the Russian Federation," Shaipov said.

But Russia must first remove the Harry Potter-like invisibility cloak that has long allowed its colonial legacy to go unnoticed.

"Once you tear it off, then people can see the horribleness – like, how could people side with an abuser and against someone who's trying to take out a restraining order against this abuse," Junisbai said.

[fairyrcts]

THINKIN BOUT YOU, C.S.

by fairyrcts contents - angst, cursing, intended lowercase, use of y/n, 3rd person, mentions of depression

an - i love chris angst

taglist - @pvssychicken , @gothiccvnt6996 , @emely9274 (header by @issysh3ll )

it was 2 am in new york and y/n was just getting home. her day was exhausting to say the least. the struggle of being a full time college student with a job and rent to pay in new york is something that was unimaginable.

she fiddled with her keys, eventually finding her apartment key. she unlocked her door to her roomate, aleah, sat on the couch watching some cheesy rom-com on her laptop. y/n dropped her bag and kicked off her shoes at the door.

"hey hey." aleah waved.

"hey, girl. watcha watchin?" y/n's voice rang as she walked to the open kitchen, grabbing a cup and poaring ice water.

"27 dresses. literally never seen this dumb shit before but evangeline wants me to see it."

aleah was the definition of a stud. she was gorgeous, too. dark complexion, curly hair that hung in front of her face and piercings on her plump lips and nose.

evangeline was her girlfriend, who y/n's only met a few times. usually in the mornings after getting very little sleep from their noises filling the small apartment.

"man, that movie's so mid. did we get any mail?" y/n chuckled as she walked back in the living room, sitting in the opposing sofa.

"any mail?"

"uh, one from some credit card company and someone left a note in the crack of the door. said to y/n from chris sturnolo." she spoke, her eyes not leaving the computer.

y/n stopped in her tracks. "christopher sturniolo?" her voice was slightly shooken.

christopher was her childhood bestfriend. they were in almost every class together since kindergarten. they were inseparable. they did sports together, went to prom together, went to get their drivers license together (guess who didn't pass). they were family, at this point.

after college, she never heard from him again. happy birthdays and merry christmases every year or likes on every post, but not a single text, call, email, anything. she talked to nick and matt regularly, but not chris.

she'd ask how he was and they'd give short, vague, one-word answers. it was unfair, really. because there wasn't another soul on earth that knew her better than chris did, and all that time was wasted.

it's been 3 years without a word. and just now he's contacting her. her mind rambled as to what might have gone wrong, otherwise, there wasn't a reason to speak to her. now, especially. she'd been such a mess after leaving for cornell, and she debated not going to stay with chris. but he convinced her, saying he'll stay in touch and talk to her every day.

so much for that promise.

"uh, yeah, chris sturniolo, sturnolo, stromboli, all the same to me." her roomate shook her out of her thoughts.

"aleah, where's the damn letter?" y/n's voice sounded scared almost, not understanding what's going on.

"over on the bookshelf." aleah pointed to the letter wrapped with a little bow and a stamp in the corner of the boston streets.

her hands hurried and undid the bow, ripping the envelope open and unfolding the letter.

Dear Y/n

There seriously isn't an explanation for my distance. After you left for college I fell into such a state of depression and I don't know why but I was scared to contact you. I mean, you're out doing great big things, NYU and detective criminal type stuff. Meanwhile, I'm still here in Massachusetts, I just moved out of my parents house a year and a half ago and my career is making videos on the internet. I guess it was the jealousy that stopped me from speaking to you or some kind of fear. But all I know is that I miss you, dearly. And I guess this is kind of me asking do you think about me still? Because I haven't stopped thinkin about you.

(p.s. i know i couldve sent this over text but i didnt know if you blocked me or not)

just his handwriting caused tears to stream down y/n's face. the note itself, the words and his explanation made her sob.

she made her way to her room, shutting the door behind her. she reached for her phone in her back pocket and called chris's contact.

it rang three times before he answered. there was silence on his end, soft sobs on hers.

"chris, where the hell are you and why did you answer so late?" she said through sniffles and cries.

"i'm uh, in syracuse right now. we're here with nate for his birthday. i asked matt for your address and uhm, i was waiting for you to call." chris's voice sounded nervous almost.

"so you're.. able to come see me?" she asked to which chris affirmed.

"give me the name of your hotel. i'm coming over." she spoke. her tone wasn't demanding, but chris knew it was a demand.

chris told her the name and room number, y/n writing down each letter. after he had explained the whole thing she hung up without warning. she walked out of her room, her movements were fast as she wiped tears off her cheeks.

"woah, what's up?" aleah asked, concerned.

"i'll tell you when i'm back." y/n brushed her off, grabbing her keys, leaving and shutting the door quite harshly.

she jogged down the stairs, her hand grazing the railings and the other jingling the keys with each step.

she pushed the door that so clearly said pull. the frustration just added to her unexplainable feelings.

"why the fuck won't this shit open!?" she shouted. the small, teenage boy at the front desk squeaked out a few words.

"it's uhm. it's pull. y-you're pushing it." y/n looked down at the sign.

"shut the fuck up, curtis!" she yelled once more, yanking the door and storming out of it.

"dumb ass name." y/n mumbled to herself. she walked hurriedly to her car, clicking the unlock button on her keeys and jumping in the drivers seat.

she turned it on, putting the ignition in reverse. she internally conflicted wether or not to put on music. of course, there was no need for it. buttt to make the whole event more dramatic, she turned on her playlist, thinkin bout you by frank ocean coming in through the speakers.

the music made tears swell up in her eyes. the whole situation was just fucked.

her car sped, running through red lights here and there, honking at any car that was slow or in front of her.

when she arrived at the hotel, she shut off her music and her car, locking it as she slammed the door of it behind her. she pulled the door to the entrance to the entrence of the large hotel, the door refusing to open.

"it's a push door!" the lady at the front desk yelled loud enough to be heard.

"oh, fuck me." y/n groaned, finally opening the door. she stormed inro the elevator, the front desk lady attempting to stop her by shouting 'miss'.

as if that was gonna stop her. y/n pressed the 4 button aggressively, multiple times.

"hurry the fuck up!" she was so out of it, she was yelling at an inanimate button.

when the door started opening, she squeezed herself through the space, looking at the numbers on each door until she found the 103 in a big font.

she knocked hard and loud continuously until the door opening interrupted her.

and now, she was faced with the man who made her, and broke her.

the two stared into one anothers eyes momentarily before y/n brought a hand up and smacked the side of his face.

a 'youch' came out of chris's mouth. he rubbed the side of his face that was now red while y/n began rambling.

"now, what the fuck is wrong with you! i mean, you know better! christopher, holy fuck, where do i even begin with you!?" her voice rang through the halls as she pushed herself into the room.

"i- i don't know." chris's tone was sorrowful, but that wasn't necessarily something she cared about right now.

"you are such a douchebag! i fucking can't believe you. ignoring my calls, texts, letters, everything! the only information i ever got about you was through 10 picture slideshows on instagram and your brothers, who werent much of a help! you can say whatever all you want, but chris, i was so mentally fucked up! i was so behind in my classes, that you know i put a humongous amount of effort into getting into, i was rude and emotional all the time and pushed away people i love and adore because i was so hung up on the thought that you stopped caring and you stopped loving me! you know how terrible of a feeling that is? to believe that the one person you love most in the world doesn't give two damn shits about what you're doing now? do you?!"

she yelled and yelled and yelled as her eyes didn't just shed tears, but boy, they poured.

"n-no, no i don't know how that feels." christopher mumbled as water welled up in his own eyes.

"yeah, and that's because you know i'm incapable of unloving you! you're aware of my love for you, because i reminded you every day. you know i wear my heart on my sleeve and you still pulled this dumb shit! i don't even know how you managed to do such thing! i was at such a terrible place, chris."

her words were less aggressive now as she cried tears of sadness rather than anger. she sat herself on one of the two hotel beds while chris sat beside her. he awkwardly pulled her into a hug, y/n leaning into it immediately.

her head laid in his lap as he rubbed her back, whispering small shushes every now and then while she kept bawling.

"y'know. i've been thinkin' bout you. i never stopped, really. i just- i don't even have an excuse. and you can keep yelling at me, and i'll keep listening, but i can't explain as to why i didn't. i just don't know, y/n." his voice was calm and gentle and his hands glided up and down her side.

once she finally stopped crying, she sat up and wiped her tears. "I'm sorry." chris stated, his eyes meaningful along with his voice.

that's all she wanted to hear.

he pulled her into an embrace once more, engulfing himself in the girl he missed so deeply.

"i was thinkin' bout you, too, y'know." she mumbled into his neck.

and that's all he wanted to hear.

[snovyda]

Blindness to Russian colonialism distorts Westerners’ view of the Ukraine war

Yet, Westerners safe from bombardment like long-shot third-party presidential candidate Cornel West continue to accommodate Russia. In a July 13 interview with CNN's Kaitlan Collins, West called Russia's invasion "criminal" but insisted it was "provoked by the expansion of NATO" and is a "proxy war between the American Empire and the Russian Federation," adding Neville Chamberlain-esque icing on the appeasement cake by proposing Ukrainian territorial concessions to Russia.

The tell in West's remarks was calling the U.S. an empire but referring to Russia by its de jure name, implicitly erasing its imperial, colonial character. It's a common tendency among the segment of the left to which West belongs, one that Kazakhstan-born Pitzer College sociology professor Azamat Junisbai attributes to ignorance and a myopic, know-nothing focus on American imperialism to the exclusion of imperialism by other nations.

"They're kind of imperial about their anti-imperialism," Junisbai said. "There's something very provincial and strange about it where you literally do not know anything about what's happening beyond this one issue you care about."

[danielfeketewrites]

DOCTOR WHO TOP 10 - 12th Doctor

The penguin with his arse on fire.

10. The Swords of Kali

This story has everything a good Doctor Who comic needs - jumping between past and future, flashbacks featuring the fourth Doctor, a space goddess, vampires, lesbians... Everything.

9. Face the Raven

Sarah Dollard debuts with a bang. She paints such a vivid world in this one... I really wish she wrote more episodes than just Face the Raven and Thin Ice (which almost made the cut as well, another bloody good Capaldi episode). Please, Russell, ask her to come back.

8. Under the Lake / Before the Flood

The perfect Base Under Siege, with an excellent and likeable cast, a great monster (I love the Fisher King), and a fun involvement of time-travel. I can't help but love this one. My favourite Toby Whithouse script.

7. The Husbands of River Song

And my favourite Christmas special... I love River. I've always loved her. But this episode goes beyond that. The charm, the vibe... It's such a sweet and funny story.

6. Oxygen

Ah, my beloved "anti-capitalist zombie horror in space". It hits all the right beats and I'm just amazed how well Jamie Matthieson constructs the situations in his Doctor Who episodes, where he usually gets rid of the sonic screwdriver as well as the TARDIS. He does it so efficiently. He makes great Doctor Who horror seem effortless. Back in... Oh, I dunno. 2019? This was the first ever script I printed out and read in it's entirety. So it means a lot to me. An excellent episode for sure.

5. Best-laid Plans

Another Paul Spragg Memorial winner. This might just be my favourite one. In it the Doctor visits a shop that sells ideas to villains. An excellent premise and an excellent short story. Go listen to it, it's for free on the Big Finish website.

4. Four Doctors

Paul Cornell's take on The Day of the Doctor. This was a mini-series, published for the 10th anniversary of New Who by Titan. And it's just utterly excellent. I especially enjoy the dynamic where 10 and 12 hate each other and 11 is trying to be the mediator between the two of them, as he's able to get along with both his former and future self. The story offers glimpses at sins of alternate futures, as well as a sequel to one of my favourite 1st Doctor stories. Check it out if you haven't done so yet. It's brilliant.

3. Heaven Sent

I love Heaven Sent. It's beautiful and poignant and precise and well-thought out... Personally, there are two stories with the 12th Doctor I like more than this. Obviously, that's why it's at number 3. But I have to admit - this one deserves to top all the polls. It's really that good. Peter Capaldi, Steven Moffat and Rachel Talalay all operating at 100% of their capacity. It's magnificent.

2. World Enough and Time / The Doctor Falls

Peter Capaldi, Steven Moffat and Rachel Talalay all operating at 100% of their capacity. It's magnificent. Again. But this time, it is also the end of an era. The most gorgeous, beautiful end of an era. Bleak and dark, yet hopeful and charming. Fanservicy, with a multi-Master story a Genesis of the Cybermen, yet never losing track of the real story. I really think it's the best New Who series finale. It felt like it was made for me.

1. Mummy on the Orient Express

And yet, out of all the episodes of this era, my love burns the brightest for this one. Jamie Mathieson made a simple murder mystery in space... And then he made it perfect. This is the episode where Peter Capaldi really becomes the Doctor. I've been thinking about the "sometimes the only choices you have are bad ones" speech for nearly a decade and it has helped me in some difficult times. It's precise, it's playful, it's dark... And above all, it's Doctor Who.

[regaliasonata]

✨❄️🩷The Star Of The New Dawn, Queen Cassidy Cornell🩷❄️✨

Commission done by @artandfail for the Arctic Thunder Fic AU, this time of Cassidy. Queen of Dynzria, one of the antagonist groups in the story and holder of the Pink Quetzacoaltlus Ranger Powers

Her aesthetic power wise is based light and ice, being the red ranger rival to Conner in a sense cause of lore. If I had to describe her character you could say a bit of Trakeena was placed in with assets of her canon self, oh and of course Rijewel from Abaranger, he really did an amazing job bringing both my designs of her to life…now I just need to post the fic 😭🩷👌🏾

✨Aura Unleashed✨

[merrellholland]

Not So Bad After All → P.Parker AU

HEYYYY YALL; its been a minute and I am sooooo sorry LMAO. I promise to get back into my writing era <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Person: Peter Parker (Tom Holland)

AU: college hockey player, frat boy, still spider-man in secret

Words: 2.4k

Warning: swearing, slight bullying (but nothing too deep)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Never in my life would I expect to have been dressed up in the most stinky and bulky fury suit… yet, here I am dressed as Sparky the Eagle. I was currently a junior at Empire State University located in beautiful New York, and throughout the years I may have found myself in a bit of a dilemma. 

Money was never an easy task for my family and I, in fact I got into this school with a huge scholarship to help support my financial needs. Despite that, I still needed to pay some tuition fees and that meant that I needed a job. This isn’t my first rodeo though, back home I had many jobs all at the same time during high school in order to help my mom with paying bills. The only hard part was trying to find a job in New York, a place that I’ve never been to until I started my first semester at Empire State. 

As I’ve completed the first two years and am now currently in my third, I’ve noticed the major stereotypical things for a college on T.V were coming to real life. The sorority girls were straight-up obnoxious and cruel to other girls who weren’t part of their sorority house, the frat boys were shirtless 24/7 while playing beer pong and having girls in bikinis all over their front yards of their gigantic frat house every Friday, and lastly the sport-frat boys. These guys were a whole different level of frat boys, and I’ve learned that very early on. These guys? Not only were they known for their handsome looks but most of these guys were going to real professional sports leagues after college, and we all know how that goes for them… in terms of love life. 

All the girls (and some guys) would be over, flirting constantly with them and not really taking interest in their sport but rather their six-pack abs and looks.  

As much as it pains me to say the cliche phrase “not like other girls” it's true. I really wasn't like the other girls swooning over these guys 24/7 and attending their friday night parties after classes were done. I was more the type of person who would prefer to finish homework and then cozy up with some blankets and a classic 2010’s rom-com. 

But now I can’t even do that since my new job requires me to be at the ice rink every week on Fridays from 6-9pm. Six to nine! That’s three hours of prime time that I could be doing homework! And that’s not even the worst part,my job was that I had to be the mascot for the ice-hockey team during their games and interacting with the fans. The Empire State hockey team was one of the best in the college leagues throughout the nation and most players got into the NHL as soon as they graduated. 

And now I’m their mascot, well I dress up as their mascot and that means getting a big sweaty and gross costume every Friday for 3-4 hours… great. Not that I could complain though, since surprisingly the pay wasn’t that bad due to the fact that you’re a student. Today was my first day on the job. The Empire Eagles were playing against the Cornell Big Red’s today and it was a home game so many students were going to attend. 

After I arrived at the rink, the manager handed me the keys to the supply storage room to change into the eagle costume. Getting into that costume was a full ass workout, the smell is something I’ve never smelt before and the amount I was sweating was unbearable. Nevertheless, I got into that God awful attire and headed outside to the ice-rink. The coolness of the air inside did help a little, but I could still feel the beads of sweat trickling down my face. 

My manager told me to practice walking on the ice with the costume since during the halftime break you had to collect all the tokens of appreciation from the fans as they threw it onto the rink from their seats. I slowly walked onto the ice with my giant eagle feet and waddled back and forth to try to get used to it before the game started, I practiced bending down to pick up the gifts  in character and tried to come up with some signature eagle moves… might as well have some fun with it righ–

“Yo excuse me but the rink is for the players to practice right now.” 

I quickly snapped my head to look behind me and– 

Great. A sport-frat boy. 

Peter Parker was someone that was greatly known throughout the university, top GPA, great looks, apparently great in the bedroom (so I’ve heard), and was the centerman for the Empire Eagles hockey team. Though I’ve never really paid attention to him. And as much as I wanted to dislike him, I’ve never personally met him before or even talked to him… so who am I to judge? 

After all, he did ask somewhat politely and– why the heck am I overthinking this? Just apologize and move on Y/N!

I cleared my throat and attempted to have a deeper voice, “Sorry dude I wasn’t aware, I’ll be on my way now” I said… and cringed internally after saying that. 

Peter nodded his head and smiled, “No worries, just a little jittery for the game so I wanted some extra practice” He replied. 

I nodded my head and then exited the rink, going back to the storage room so nobody would see me yet. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The game started and was currently ending the second quarter with the score being 2-1, the Empire Eagles winning and the Cornell Big Red’s tailing behind. I could tell that all of the players from Empire State were filled with happiness… and might I add overconfident and cocky. But that was something that I couldn’t pay attention to since I had to focus on giving it my all while I walked towards the ice rink at halftime and collected all the gifts that were thrown onto the ice from the fans in the stadium. 

I walked in character as the fun spunky eagle while walking on the ice and picking up the teddy bears with a girl's number in sharpie written on it and a bunch of red roses. As I picked them up and headed back, I took a quick glance and the audience. There were some students who seemed genuinely happy to be there and there were those… What do people call them? Oh yeah puck bunnies? Yeah there were a whole lot of girls wearing those boob jackets from lululemon and attempting to look cold but also cute and petite. I mean again, I’m not one to judge so you do you I guess. 

After I collected all of the gifts from the fans, I took some pictures with a couple of kids and I enjoyed that part. I liked seeing the smiles on their faces as they stood proud with me as their parents took photos. It definitely seemed like a core memory for them and I’m glad that I somewhat got to be a part of that. 

As the third and fourth quarter went on, it was brutal for us. Cornell absolutely demolished Empire State and beat us 4-2. I guess that’s what our players get for being cocky and overconfident throughout the whole game, thinking that they’ve got this. 

After the game ended and the fans left the stadium, my manager said to stay behind and clean the place up and pick up any extra gifts that were left. As I bent down (still in my eagle costume) to pick up some flowers that were left on the ice, something extremely heavy bumped into me from behind causing me to fling forward and make an umph sound. 

“What the fuck?” I cursed in a whisper. 

“DUDE what the fuck are you still doing here?! You need to get out, it's closed practice now looser” the voice said. 

I turned around and looked at the man who was clearly a player on the Empire State Eagles, he had blonde hair and green eyes and was definitely 6’1”. Shit, what was I supposed to do? My manager literally told me to clean the place up and then help security to lock up the stadium! 

“Bro be nice, you don’t gotta be mean” Another boy said. 

As I looked up, I saw that that other boy was no other than Peter Parker. But before I could register that, he offered me a hand and I immediately accepted it. 

I attempted to not sound like a scared wimp so I deepened my voice a little, “Uh thanks dude, I wasn’t aware that it was a closed practice… I’ll uh keep that in mind next time” I said to him. 

He smiled, “Don’t worry, Charlie’s just a snob” He replied. 

“Yeah I can tell” I responded while walking out of the rink. 

He laughed again while combing through his sweaty brown curls, giving me butterflies–

Wait what. 

Nope. Nope. Never. Never in a million years. I refuse. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The next couple of weeks went by normally, except I’ve started to notice Peter Parker more often. I never realized he was in three of my classes. In my morning class he would wear his hockey sweatshirt with gray sweatpants and in the afternoon he would take off his sweatshirt, revealing a tight-fitted white shirt that showed off his biceps. 

Damn, now I understand why girls swoon over guys like him… bro’s majestic. 

But my mama always told me to focus on my studies, boys come after. And that's what I planned to do, stay focused. He probably doesn’t even know me since at school I’m practically a nobody. I mean I join clubs, I’m in choir, and I’m part of many study groups so most people would know who I am but they probably have other friends to talk to besides me. The same goes for my roommates, they know me but they have other friend groups. 

Once again, it was Friday and that meant that we had another home game. The Eagles were playing against the NYU Bobcats. I went into the stadium and got into my disgusting and sweaty eagle costume. Throughout the weeks, I think I slowly got into character and found new dances to help entertain the little kids during timeouts and in between quarters. 

As the game started, I did my little dances whenever I could and the score at the end of the second quarter was 1-1. The stakes were going to be high but I have a feeling that we were gonna win this one. 

During the third quarter, I sat on the bench that was reserved for me and watched Peter, jersey number 4, skate all over the ice with his hockey stick. He had the puck, all of his attention was on it. The whole audience had a feeling that he was gonna score a goal but then all of a sudden one of the NYU players stole the puck from him and skated furiously across the other side of the rink. 

You could see Peter cursing and quickly going to the other side along with his other teammates. Ever since that moment, it seemed that something triggered Peter… he was starting to get more aggressive and ruthless. It made me anxious to see his behavior on the ice, but nevertheless I kept watching. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Despite the tight game, the Eagles won 3-2 and the whole crowd celebrated which meant that many gifts were thrown down onto the rink. Teddy bears and roses were everywhere and it was all me that had to clean it up. I walked on the ice with my feet stuck in the puffy eagle claws of my costume, gathered all of the gifts, and put them in a big container that I dragged with me across the ice. After I got all the stuffed animals and flowers in the container I headed towards my manager to give it to. As I handed it to him, he thanked me and said I was free as soon as I checked the whole stadium again to see if there was anyone else. I nodded and went back to the arena. 

I checked to see if there were any other fans that were trying to stay behind, but didn’t find any… but gosh my feet hurt so much and I just need a little break before heading back to my dorm. 

I took out the headpiece of the eagle costume and sighed as the cool breeze from the arena chilled my flushed cheeks. I then took out the rest of my costume which left me with my sweaty ponytail and loose hair strands framing my face along with my black leggings and shirt. Though I didn’t take it into consideration that there would be anyone else entering the stadium again after the game was over. But I guess I was wrong, because all of a sudden I heard a voice from behind me: 

“I didn’t realize you were a girl,” I turned my head around to see who it was. 

Peter Parker? I thought in my head. 

“Or pretty.” he finished his statement with his mouth parting slightly. 

I could feel my cheeks warm up despite the cool air as I laughed awkwardly, “W-What? Oh t-thanks… you look pretty too” I replied, not thinking about what I just said. 

Peter just nodded and he looked like he was seconds away from drooling as he continued to stare at me… he really does make a girl feel special. 

“Uhm, are you doing some extra practice? Or–” I say trying to break the silence. 

Peter slightly shook his head and cleared his throat, “Uh yeah, it’s just I don’t feel like I gave it my all today even though we won so I wanted to get some practice in… if that’s okay?” he says. 

I smiled and nodded my head, “Yeah sure, I’ll just go tell my manager and put this costume away.” I told him as I stood up.

He smiled back at me with his teeth as I walked towards the manager’s office, feeling intense butterflies cause Peter fucking Parker just called me pretty… WHAT IS MY LIFE?!

You know, I said in the beginning that I wasn’t like other girls but now I definitely think I am (well at least internally). 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

AN: PART TWO?? 😏

[darkmaga-returns]

Senator Paul’s grievances are many, and rightly so. He says:

This year, I am highlighting a whopping $1,008,313,329,626.12. That’s over $1 trillion in government waste, including things like ice-skating drag queens, a $12 Million Las Vegas pickleball complex, $4,840,082 on Ukrainian influencers, and more! No matter how much money the government has wasted, politicians keep demanding even more. As always, taking the path to fiscal responsibility is often a lonely journey, but I’ve been fighting government waste like DOGE before DOGE was cool. And I will continue my fight against government waste this holiday season.

Among the gems uncovered this year:

$419,470 to study cocaine addiction in rats The Department of Health and Human Services (HHS) funded a study to determine if lonely rats are more likely to seek cocaine than their happier counterparts. Because apparently, locking down the global population during the COVID pandemic wasn’t enough of an experiment in social isolation.

$10,000 for a climate-themed drag show on ice The National Endowment for the Arts (NEA) awarded a grant to a self-described “queer cabaret arts organization,” the Bearded Ladies Cabaret, for a performance featuring drag queens and polar bears to raise climate change awareness. “If we can get these drag queens to ice skate, maybe, just maybe, we can solve the climate crisis,” says the group’s artistic director.

$12 million for a pickleball complex in Las Vegas The Department of the Interior is hard at work turning 5 acres of Nevada desert into a 30-court pickleball complex. The goal is to put Las Vegas on the global pickleball map by hosting local and international tournaments. As Senator Paul says, “There's irony in a city synonymous with high-stakes gambling investing 12 million American tax dollars in pickleball — a sport often associated with retirees looking for a low-stakes, leisurely pastime.”

$2.24 million to infect cats with COVID-19 Cornell University received grants to study whether felines can contract and transmit COVID-19, leading to the needless suffering and death of over 30 cats. Apparently, curiosity didn't just kill the cat, government funding helped, too!

$4.8 million on Ukrainian influencers The Department of State spent millions to engage social media influencers in Ukraine. Because when it comes to foreign policy, likes and shares are the new diplomacy.

From redundant federal programs to grants so specific they sound like The Onion Babylon Bee headlines, the Festivus Report 2024 doesn’t hold back. Paul even includes a section on how government shutdowns ironically cost taxpayers more money, proving that inefficiency is an art form in Washington.