#I fucking LOVE municipal waste

[killerqueenhetfield]

Cannot wait to see these fuckers live!!

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

kill me

[gallusrostromegalus]

How does trash pickup, Recycling centers, &/or Hazardous Material Disposal work for Soul Society in AEIWAM? Is there a Kido-based ritual to break things down into Reishi? Are there Tech Repair Shops?

Sewage in Soul Society works really well but very dangerously because those fucking idiots built the city directly on top of an active supervolcano.

Let me back up:

There isn't a good consensus on how big the Seireitei is (Yoruichi says it takes 10 days to walk 1/4th of the way around the circumference, but whether that's her speed, the average person's or how long a patrol group takes is unclear), Or any real maps of the place, but it's generally agreed that

the city is LARGE. Yoruichi says it would take her and the kids ten days to walk to the next gate 1/4th of the way around the city. Maybe that's 8 hours average human walking speed minus 'trying to herd a bunch of teenagers' but that's still a long trip!

Even before the Seki-Seki stone wall was put up, the city was pretty much circular.

Unlike pretty much every real city, there's no river running through it. Where are they getting their water?

There is a Small but substantial and TOTALLY ISOLATED mountain in the middle of the city made of apparently hard-to-mine rock. A Lonely Mountain, one might even say.

The only visible natural sources of water I've seen evidence of are hot springs in both the Yoruichi/Urahara Super Secret Training Ground/Love Nest and the first division grounds.

Soul Society is run by jackasses and if there's a stupid way to do things, that's the way they're doing them.

In fact, the Soul Society as a whole is almost suspiciously Amestris-shaped, but instead of nefarious alchemy, it's negligent civil engineering

...all this leads me to believe that Seireitei is built DIRECTLY ON TOP OF the caldera of an enormous supervolcano. The city gets it's water from the aquifer of rainwater that's collected in the underground cracks and fissures of the Caldera, and the seki-seki stone wall is set up around the really convenient geographic barrier made by the rim of the caldera.

"Hey!" I hear some of you nerds objecting "Aren't calderas usually concave? Seireitei is convex, if anything!"

You're right! Most Calderas are concave! But they will absolutely fill in with sand and dirt over the true floor of the caldera over time and develop Mounts like the thing at the central part of the city and start to rise WHEN THEY'RE ON THE VERGE OF A CATASTROPHIC ERUPTION.

So yeah! The Gotei-13 has an almost infinite supply of hot water, and probably less than a century to figure out what to do before The Big Kaboom.

Anyway, back at sewage:

There's been a city where the Seireitei is since time immemorial, and even though it's done the istanbul-not-constantinopple shuffle a few times, very little of the actual infrastructure has changed. Empires rise and fall but the desire paths stay the same.

This is especially true in Seireitei, because unlike very nearly every major IRL Municipality, it doesn't have a river running through it, something that usually necessitates Sewer updates By Force. But compared to a river which is constantly moving around in it's bed, a volcanic aquifer doesn't move much until it moves a whole fucking lot real fast, so the undercity of the Seireitei has really had time to... Develop isn't quite the right word.

"Ferment" is closer.

Above-ground waste management is the provenance of the actual local city government- yes, there is a Mayor of the Seireitei that the Gotei-13 has to pay property taxes to. Yamamoto maintains a lot of goodwill with the Mayor by dint of sentencing ill-behaved shinigami to shore up the municipal labor pool, and by knowing the mayor's family for the last millennium. So you'll see Shinigami doing things like trash collection and street-sweeping, but they're just there on probation.

-But nobody wanted to deal with the undercity. It's got a soul of it's own. Washington DC, which is less than 500 years old as a city and on top of a swamp, has an undercity that goes down over half a mile. Imagine how deep the sunken buildings, abandoned secret tunnels, and sewer system of a city that's millenia old, not sitting on actual mud and constantly subjected to high levels of magical background radiation might develop.

An Appetite, for one thing.

The 11th likes to talk a big game, but the reason the 4th is in charge of sewer maintenance is because the only people with the guts for it were people who got degrees rummaging in the guts of living people. Sewer maintenance really is a lot like abdominal surgery, if you were able to walk around inside the patient.

It was Retsu Unohana's idea, actually. Chigiri was a battle medic and aged rapidly for a shinigami. She was old when the court guard finally went from "Yamamoto and his gang of assholes" to "A for-real governing body". Her successor, Kirinji was more interested in traumatic injury recovery than preventative medicine, for obvious reasons- his triage was constantly full of combat casualties and early kido experiment victims Blood Loss was still his #1 Killer.

But Retsu had been reincarnated in and spent her youth in South 80, in the utterly undeveloped conditions there, and held deep, personal grudges with Dysentery and Cholera. For all his talk of healing waters, Kirinji had no sense of the importance of water sanitation, and it was a continuous point of contention between them for her apprenticeship.

"FINE!" He shouted one day after a particularly nasty row. "IF IT'S SO GODDAMN IMPORTANT TO YOU, YOU HANDLE IT! FORM NOW ON, YOU'RE IN CHARGE OF SEWAGE, SLUDGE QUEEN!"

She made her first descent the next morning.

She did not return for six weeks, and Kirinji almost thought he'd resloved that particular problem when she reappeared from the depths, a changed woman. That long in the darkness, alongside the buried secrets and skeletons of the city, with the horrors that did not dare brave the sunlight- it would change anyone, and most would come up looking at least mildly haunted.

Retsu Unohana is not most.

She looks radiant, almost like The Kenpachi again, covered in the horrors of the underground as she used to be covered in blood. She thrives on a challenge, and excels at the art of purification, and now, she has been given the single greatest challenge of purification in history. There is something beautiful and terrible in her eyes as she explains that it does down at least five miles, look at this, she thinks it's from the neolithic era, and there are incredible boneyards of thousands of skeletons, and fungi the likes of which she's never seen before- She is ecstatic- a creature kept in captivity, finally released into it's natural habitat.

It's hardly a surprise, if you consider Minazuki. Stingrays are benthic creatures, right at the bottom of the river, deep in the muck and decay.

It's been a little over eight hundred years into her tenure as a medic, and she has tamed much of the beast. The upper levels are well-mapped and have been made clean and well-lit, enough that even the civilian sanitation forces of the city can regularly enter and work in them without any particular unease. Infant and preventable disease mortality has dropped astronomically. Nobody's had cholera since the 1800's . While they have other jobs, all members of the 4th division are required to take at least one tour in the depths of the undercity.

Horrors still lurk in the depths.

They're pretty sure they lost Tokagero Kenpachi chasing one of those, shortly before Unohana became captain, and she's been reluctant to let other divisions assist since then. The Fourth Division's Fourth Seat, rumored to be the unluckiest post in the entire Gotei-13, is permanently stationed underground, and she loves it that way.

It's only recently that the 11th has been allowed to come along on descents, after Zaraki vanished for two days and then emerged victorious from a manhole in the 5th division with a tentacled horror she'd been tracking for decades that lived at least three miles down. He apologized- he had meant to come up in the 4th to present it's corpse to her directly, but well, you know what his sense of direction is like. Anyway, I saw it scuttling around in the rain aquifers and we don't need it tracking literal shit into the water supply so I went after is and d'ya think maybe I can take the lads down sometime? They' get lazy between deployments and you have a triage up here to manage.

Charmed, she agreed.

---

Hm. I just re-read that ask and it's actually about dry waste managment.

Sorry. I got very excited about the sewers.

I am now about to get worse about trash.

I don't think they have plastic in soul society- given how bug-themed the 12th division is, I'm pretty sure the casing on Rukia's soul pager is made of Chitin, and if you break it, it bleeds. Also it makes people with shellfish allergies break out in hives.

Since pretty much all the waste in Soul Society is either recyclable or organic matter, I think those trash pits Yumichika and Ganju were fooling around with are really more like Kido-enhanced composting centers. All waste goes into them and the bottom of the pit is pulled out in a tray, like with a vermiculture tower, if the worms were eighteen and a half feet long and hungry enough to swallow anything that falls in the pit, because Mayuri is incapable of making anything that is not at least slightly awful.

The compost is then shaken out for any spare glass or metal that made it into the compost and that's sent off to the 12th division forges to be recycled. it's baked to kill any dangerous pathogens and Giant Garbage Worm Eggs so they don't breach containment, and measured for nitrogen, phosphorus and other important plant nutrient content. Based on it's composition, it's then shipped out to farmers in the upper districts of the rukongai because "Free, A+ grade fertilizer if y'all don't start revolutions, pay your taxes and give us first dibs on crops" is an amazing incentive for rural farmers to not start backing the local warlords.

It was 12th division founder Uhin Zenjohji who came up wth the scheme- he remembered the lengths upper-district farmers were willing to go through to make sure their land remained fertile, what kind of demand Nitrogen was in, and the ravages of phosphorous runnoff, so he could kill two birds with one clod of shit by supplying farmers with 'free' fertilizer that kept them loyal to the court and was tailored to that area's nutritional needs and watershed capacity.

The fact that it kept a lot of swamp and waterway areas pristine so he could indulge his birdwatching hobby was a nice benefit too :).

NORMALLY, those pits are covered, clearly marked, and usually the site of a major traffic jam because that's the local collection point, but when Ichigo and friends arrived, Aizen had whipped everyone into believing they were being invaded by an elite force of super-assassins and not like. 4 high schoolers and a furry. All the street signs and markings came down, civilians shuttered themselves inside, and generally made the Seireitei as difficult to navigate as possible.

I wonder how much Zaraki's rotten sense of direction was exacerbated by that.

ANYWAY! That's my thoughts on trash! Deep undercity horrors and giant compost worms over an active volcano!

[stargazer-sims]

The Art of Redemption

(part 12)

previous // next // story index

—————

"Good news, children!" Stan bursts through the doorway of the guest room without so much as a knock. He doesn't seem the least bit shocked or bothered by the fact that Beth-Anne is curled up next to Nikolai in the big bed. "You're gonna love this!"

Beth-Anne drags her eyelids open a little further. She’s tired, and it’s an effort. "Jesus, Stan! Ever heard of privacy?"

Stan quirks an eyebrow. "What? I'm not interrupting something, am I? I didn't think you swung that way."

"The fuck...?" She seizes the nearest soft object she can reach, which happens to be Nikolai's grey teddy bear, and flings it at him. "Fuck off!"

Stan catches the bear neatly. He's laughing. "And all this time, I thought you were a morning person. You too, little Kolya."

Beside her, Nikolai groans sleepily. "This is a bad dream, right?"

"Do you often dream about being in bed with your coach?" Stan asks, his tone filled with mock-innocence.

"Oh my God. Please stop." Nikolai grabs the edge of the quilt and pulls it up so that only the top of his messy brown hair is visible. "I'm not in bed with her."

"That’s not what it looks like, but okay," Stan says.

"You know what I mean!"

"I call it as I see it," Stan says, "Anyway, it's fine. Whatever the two of you get up to behind closed doors is none of my business. You're both adults."

"Stan, enough." Beth-Anne tries to put as much steel into her tone as possible. She knows he's only teasing and she's sure Nikolai knows it too, but just because she enjoys Stan's sometimes inappropriate sense of humour, that doesn't mean everyone's going to appreciate it. It's fairly obvious Nikolai is uncomfortable, and Beth-Anne isn't keen to let that continue. "What do you want?

"I just wanted to tell you the good news," Stan says cheerfully. "We had a shit ton of snow overnight. Everything's closed. Schools, shopping malls..." He gives her a conspiratorial wink, as if the closures were organized specifically for their benefit. "Municipal sport and recreation facilities."

Nikolai peeks out from under the blanket. "You mean, the rink is closed?"

"All the municipal facilities," Stan says. "Rinks, pools, libraries, the recycling depot. Probably even City Hall. We're having a genuine, certified snow day, and personally, I don't intend to waste it lying around."

"We weren't lying around. We were literally sleeping," Beth-Anne points out.

"Details," Stan says. "Now, let's go. Haul ass, kids. Milena's making breakfast, and then we need to clear the driveway. Betka's work isn't closed, and the whole fucking world would have to end before they gave her husband a day off, so she's bringing the boys over to spend the day. It's gonna be great."

"Can we at least take showers and put on some clean clothes first?"

Stan grins at her. "Sure, if you want cold breakfast. Come on. Eat now, shower later."

And so, unable to argue with the force of nature that is Stanislav Kovac, they do.

She and Nikolai climb out of bed and trail Stan to the kitchen where Milena is in the process of making what might be banana pancakes. The warm, inviting scents of coffee and savoury sausage fill the room, and there's already a pitcher of orange juice, a carton of milk and an array of condiments on the table.

Beth-Anne has lost count of how many times she's sat in the Kovacs' kitchen and shared a meal with them. After her accident, she'd lived with them for several months while she recovered her ability to walk and her courage to face the world beyond the safety of their four walls. They helped her stay sober and sane, and their steady presence healed her in ways she's sure none of them have words to explain.

Milena and Stan and their daughter Alzbeta — known affectionately as Betka — taught her what it was like to be part of a healthy and loving family, and from them she learned that relying on others isn't a sign of weakness, that there's far more strength in the care and support of others than anyone could ever find alone.

She feels at home in the Kovacs' house and comfortable with their quirks as well as their routines. It's not strange for her to observe Milena at the stove, dressed in old gym shorts and one of Stan's shirts, preparing what she and Stan both insist is the most important meal of the day, neither is it odd for her to see Stan dancing gracefully around the kitchen in his ridiculous plush moose slippers that would be a serious tripping hazard for someone less agile and less aware of the capabilities of his body.

The vintage radio is tuned to a classical music station, and one of Stan's favourite pieces of music has just come on. Beth-Anne recognizes it. It's Les Patineurs Op. 183, by the nineteenth-century composer Émile Waldteufel, and she'd once skated to it in a competition. She suspects Stan may have skated to it at some point too. His dance looks choreographed, the movements long-remembered and clearly beloved.

Milena says something to him in their native Czech, and he replies in English, "Yes, I remember." He spins fluidly across the floor until he's next to her, and then he kisses her on the cheek. "I remember we both got something gold that night."

Beth-Anne smiles. She knows exactly what he's referring to.

Stan delights in telling the story of how he proposed to Milena. He'd been planning it for weeks and had even bought a ring, but hadn't actually presented it to her when he asked her to marry him. Instead, he'd given her his newly-won gold medal from Skate Canada. Apparently, he'd been too excited and full of adrenaline to wait for their next proper date and he'd proposed right there at the competition venue.

The first time Beth-Anne heard that story, she hadn't been the least bit surprised. It was perfectly in-character for Stan. What was also characteristically Stan was how he'd later taken that very same medal to a goldsmith, where it'd been melted down and refashioned into Stan and Milena's wedding bands.

"So we can always wear our greatest victory for the world to see," he'd said.

Beth-Anne loves that Stan considers his marriage to Milena his greatest victory.

We should all be so fortunate, she thinks.

She asks Milena if there's anything she can do to help with breakfast, although she already knows what the answer will be.

"No, it's under control," Milena assures her. "Grab a coffee and have a seat. This'll all be ready in a few minutes."

She fixes coffee for herself and Nikolai, and then joins him at the table. True to her word, Milena carries a huge platter of pancakes and sausage to the table a few minutes later. Stan finally decides to sit down as well, and they all enjoy some carefree chatter and the delicious food that's as filling to Beth-Anne's spirit as it is to her stomach.

After breakfast, she and Stan dress up to go outside and clear the driveway. Nikolai offers to help, but both she and Stan veto the idea immediately. He may be walking more confidently now, but there's no way they're going to let him shovel snow.

Milena says he can stay inside with her and help tidy up the kitchen. Beth-Anne is grateful to Milena for offering him a way to feel useful, and evidently Nikolai is too, because he happily acquiesces.

With Nikolai left in Milena's capable hands, Beth-Anne follows Stan out through the garage. They collect two wide snow shovels and then make their way outdoors. Stan wasn't wrong about how much it had snowed in the night. Yesterday, she'd guessed it might snow, but she had no idea they'd be up past their knees in it. It's still snowing lightly, with no signs of stopping soon, but if they don't start cleaning up now, it'll be that much more difficult when the storm finally does dwindle to its inevitable end.

For the first little while, they don't say much, other than to comment about how cold it is or how astonished they are by the unexpectedly heavy snowfall. By the time they've removed all the snow from the doorstep and walkway and the front of the garage, however, Stan seems more inclined to converse. They're clearing around his car when he says, "So, last night...?"

"What about last night?" she queries. "If this is gonna be about me and Nikolai sleeping in the same bed..."

"No, it's not," Stan says. "I know nothing happened. Well, nothing like that at least, but even if you did get up to something frisky, it's like I already said. You're adults. You do what you want. What I'm talking about was you screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night."

"Oh, God." Beth-Anne moans. "I'm so sorry. It's bad enough that I woke Nikolai. I didn't know I woke you and Milena too."

"You didn't wake Milena. That woman could sleep through World War Three. But, it took all my willpower not to run downstairs and check on you."

"And you didn't come down because...?"

"Because I remembered Nikolai was in there with you. Or you were in there with him, I suppose, since you didn't come up to the room we offered you."

"Yeah, well it was a little, uh... noisy up there for my tastes."

Stan snorts in his effort not to laugh. "Right. Apologies for that, but when your wife's rocking the boy-cut underwear and looking hot as fuck, sometimes you just gotta do something, you know?"

"I love that you still think she's hot."

"And why wouldn't i? Sure, she looks different than she did when we were eighteen, but so what? She's my benchmark for beauty. Everybody else has to measure up to her."

"You're amazing, you know."

"I know," Stan says, but then he turns serious again. "Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you're okay after the talk we had yesterday, and then whatever happened last night."

"Yeah, I'm surprisingly okay," she says. "I'm not cured, obviously, but I do feel better today. It was a pretty bad nightmare, but Nikolai looked after me. We talked afterwards, and he gave me some stuff to think about, whether he realizes it or not."

"What stuff?"

"For one thing, he seems to think I'm not going to end up being a danger to anybody. Maybe he's an optimist, but he thinks the kids are safe."

"Of course they are," Stan says. "Don't I keep telling you that? We didn't have you in anger management therapy back in the day for no reason, did we?"

"No. There was a reason. It was to keep me safe. And other people safe from me."

"Yeah, but it was also for your future, and you see how well it's worked out. You're like a second mom to some of those kids of yours.

"Nikolai said something like that too."

"So Nikolai tells you one time, and you believe him?"

"No, it's not that," she says. "It's not like I believe Nikolai and I don't believe you. It just seems easier to believe when I'm hearing it from more than one person, if that makes sense."

"It does," says Stan. "Not that I'm telling you to take a poll or anything, but if you did, I'll bet you'd hear the same thing from all your students' parents. I mean, the fact that they trust you with their kids should tell you as much."

She smiles wryly. "I just wish I could trust myself."

"That takes time, but you know what I think might help?"

"What?"

"Remember how you used to be," he says. "Look at how far you've come since I first met you, how much fuckin' awesome progress you've made as a human being, not just as an athlete and a coach. Not only should you trust yourself to do the right things, but you should be damn proud of yourself for getting it mostly right so far."

"Mostly right."

"Nobody's perfect."

"True," she agrees. She moves a few more shovelfuls of snow before she continues. "There was something else."

"Something else Nikolai said to you, you mean?"

"Yeah."

"And...?"

"I told him about Abby, and I told him how I got the scars."

Stan makes a sombre hum of affirmation. "That took courage."

"It felt like the right thing to do."

"How'd he take it?"

"I'd say he was shocked, but not totally surprised, and he said he didn't think any of it was my fault. And do you know what he asked me?"

Stan plants his shovel in the snow. He rests his gloved hands on top of the handle and leans forward a little, meeting her eyes. "I get the sense it's something you didn't see coming."

"You're right," she confirms. She pokes the snow a bit with the blade of her own shovel before sticking it into the nearest drift and copying Stan's posture. "He asked me if I've tried looking for Abby recently."

"Have you?" Stan asks.

Beth-Anne shakes her head. "No, but the more I think about it, the more I think maybe I should."

"Are you prepared for something like that? Like, emotionally and psychologically prepared?"

"No, but if I wait for a moment when I fell like I'm totally ready, maybe I'll never do it, and maybe this is something I need to do now, you know? Maybe it's the next step I need to take to move on."

"What if you find out something you'd rather not know?"

"Like what? The worst thing I could learn is something I already accept might be a possibility, that my sister died in the eighties. But, Stan..." She gazes at him intently, willing him to comprehend her sudden earnestness. "Stan, what if she didn't? What if she escaped that hell, and what if some foster family loved her and raised her like their own? I could still have a sister out there somewhere."

"This may not have a happy ending," he says.

"I know, but even if she doesn't remember me or doesn't want to meet me, or even if she really did pass away years ago, I think I'd feel better knowing the truth about what happened."

Stan presses his lips together as if he's deep in thought, attempting to come up with an adequate response. "I don't want you to think I'm discouraging you from doing this," he says at length. "You should, if you think it's what you need to do. I just don't want you to be hurt."

"I know," she smiles at him. "You always want to protect me, and it's one of the reasons I love you, but remember what you're always saying. We don't achieve anything if we're not willing to take risks."

"That sounds like the kind of motivational shit I'd say at the rink."

"It applies just as well to life off the ice."

He frowns, but she understands it's not because he's upset. It's because he's worried but also has to concede her point. "Knowing the truth likely would give you some closure," he says. "Maybe it would help you move on.

"Nikolai suggested Milena might be able to help," she tells him. "He said she might know how to get access to family court records and old documents from Social Services and stuff like that."

"Milena's not that kind of lawyer," Stan says. "But I'll bet there's somebody at her firm who is. I can ask her, if you want."

"No," Beth-Anne says. "I have to be sure I'm really doing this. I need to think about it a little more. When I'm sure I’m going ahead with it, I'll ask her myself."

Stan nods. "Okay. If you need to talk about it any more in the meantime, I'm here."

"Thanks," she says. "I'm grateful I can always count on you."

He smiles. "Hey, what's family for? No matter what happens, we've always got your back."

[speed-metal-punk]

14, 4, 6 for the "talk about" thing

4: Talk about the thing you regret most so far.

Fuck, okay. I guess it's two things, but they kinda tie together. I regret letting my body image issues get in the way of my self esteem and I regret letting my depression attach itself to my diabetes. I get trauma is trauma, but I wish I had fought it harder. Those two things have affected my life more than anything else I can think of right now. I've made progress on the body image issues side. Therapy and very amazing people helped me a lot. Still working on separating the depression and diabetes, that'll be a fight that hopefully won't kill me.

6: Talk about the worst birthday you’ve had.

Safe to say it was last year's. My partner at the time had broken up with me literally the day prior over text and I was due to move the day after. But, I did get to spend a big chunk of the day itself with AJ and Ayla, got a tattoo too. Well, three tattoos, but one session. So not totally awful, but definitely wasn't in the best of headspaces at the time.

16: Talk about the best party you’ve ever been to.

I don't go to parties, not my speed, but I'll talk about the best show I've been to. This one narrowly beats out the Exhumed show I got sprayed with blood at. It was Carcass, Municipal Waste, Sacred Reich, and Creeping Death. I was there literally just to see Waste play, but I caught Sacred Reich and Carcass as well. Sadly missed Creeping Death, but I did see them when they came with Exhumed. Anyways, it was amazing. Went with AJ and Adam, so a bit of a boys night. Met some great people, saw some folks from Aces there too. I'd been trying to see Waste since about 2017/2018 and finally got them. And good fuck were they everything I hoped for. Tony threw a trashcan into the crowd, it almost hit me haha I was singing along to songs I've been blasting for years, got to see a band I've loved for years, and it was everything I wanted it to be. Genuinely one of if not the best time I've had in my life.

Thanks for the ask friend!

[prismatic-skies]

Been going through my old external harddrive that was used on my old computer.

I beat the shit outta that computer with the amount of work I threw its way! 😂

Sadly though, almost all of my artwork got fucked or lost.

For the last few MONTHS I’ve been painstakingly fixing so many corrupt files. Some I unfortunately can’t save. At all.

A lot of it is from my teen years from the 1990’s where I was still working on film camera, charcoal, paints, canvases etc., that I ended up converting into digital (at least what was able to be converted). So that means a lot of my original artwork is also GONE.

But if I can’t do it, I’m going to see if my friend may be able to save those files.

I’ve also been coming across a lot of old saved posts/photos/videos from the early days of FB & IG.

And I came across this video I did when I was just getting back into glitch art in like 2010+.

I was also showing off my sweet earrings that my dear friend, Elise - the owner & creator of Hydra Hammer Armory, made me (chainmail battle axes).

She does AMAZING work with metal, including chainmail!!

And the lovely lady is the better half of my homeboy, Tony, who’ve I’ve been friends with for 20+years back when I worked at Earache Records & his band was signed to the label.

So enjoy my weird face.

Check out Elise’s business.

And listen to Municipal Waste.

[siegecoffeemug]

I knew I was going to spend the rest of my life with you.

From day one.

It's quite laughable in retrospect, the first thing I thought of doing was bolstering my record collection so we had every record we could ever want at our fingertips.

Spazz. Despise You. Dropdead. Hatred Surge.

Fuck, is this real...??

My turntable was yours more than mine. Its so sad really how much impact a sick music taste has upon me, and baby, I could never wish for a better partner in that regard.

We had so many shows to go to, so many opportunities for me to watch you, like I did at gel, dropdead, municipal waste etc, with nothing more than a sense of awe. I had a partner who fucking FELT IT like I did.

But just as quickly, you were gone. I'm lost. I cant listen to music like I used to. Even picking up a guitar makes me cry.

You were my biggest inspiration.

I scratched your name into my guitar.

I was the luckiest fucking person on this entire planet to be able to call you my partner. I will never stop loving you. You are the most naturally beautiful, smart funny and kind soul I could ever hope to meet and I am fucking devastated this is over.

I miss you with every beat of my heart.

I love you more x

[metalhead-brainrot]

[Album of the day] Inhuman Nature

London, Britain || 2019

[Genres] crossover

[FFO] FORESEEN

[Thoughts] Picked this up for the last Bandcamp Friday because it'll create a pit out of thin fucking air. High energy, infectious crossover.

Also I love the album artwork by Andrei Bouzikov*, although Conan looks like he's on that head-shrinking Instagram nonsense.

o()xxxx[:::::::::::::::::> o()xxxx[:::::::::::::::::> o()xxxx[:::::::::::::::::>

* You will recognize his distinct style on the covers of albums by Municipal Waste, Wraith, Cannabis Corpse, Nervosa, Skeletonwitch, Exarsis, and more. I love his style and have used his work as inspiration in my miniature painting. Here's an interview with the Belarussian himself.

[lindsaywesker]

Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day.

Welcome to Too Much Information Tuesday.

Philophobia is the fear of falling in love.

Will Smith's first name is Willard, not William.

Loneliness is both physically and mentally damaging.

Napping for just six minutes can help improve your memory.

In the 1940s, butt plugs were marketed as a headache remedy.

In Switzerland, you can be denied citizenship for being too annoying.

Google has a database of 25 million books that no one is allowed to read.

You are 8 times more likely to be killed walking drunk, than driving drunk.

A survey of Americans from 2008 found wellbeing peaked at around age 82.

According to a new study, Finns have the longest weekend lie-ins in Europe.

A new study finds delays in texting responses may indicate the other person is lying.

The first copy of Rolling Stone magazine came with a free roach clip to hold your joints.

You're more likely to be killed by a vending machine related accident than to win the lottery.

A vital part of the mixing of ocean waters comes from huge masses of anchovies having sex.

On D-Day, J. D. Salinger fought with six chapters of ‘The Catcher In The Rye’ in his backpack.

In 2004, a boat in Texas capsized because everyone ran to one side to look at a nudist beach.

Being called ‘Baby’ has a positive effect on the female brain, causing instant emotional stress relief.

51% of Americans use subtitles all or most of the time when watching TV shows and movies.

In order to protest against a lack of cemetery space, the French town of Sarpourenx made it illegal to die.

Penn Jillette, of Penn and Teller fame, has a patent for a hot tub with a clitoral stimulator, called The Jill Jet.

The world’s deepest hole is about 7.5 miles deep. It was made by the Soviet Union just to find out what was down there.

At the start of World War Two, Soviet intelligence employed more graduates of British universities than MI5 and MI6 did.

McDonald's ended its 40-year relationship with Heinz in 2013, after the condiment company hired Burger King's former CEO.

George Clooney used to refund the cost of a cinema ticket to anyone who mentioned to him that they watched ‘Batman And Robin’.

New research suggests that drinking alcohol doesn’t make others seem more attractive, but it may give the drinker the confidence to approach people they already find attractive.

Switzerland hasn't had landfills since 2000. All municipal waste is either recycled or incinerated. 50% of the waste is recycled, and the other 50% is incinerated to produce electricity.

In France, it's illegal to completely disinherit one's children. French law mandates that a specific portion of a deceased person's estate, known as the "réserve héréditaire," must be allocated to their children.

Paul McCartney wrote ‘Hey Jude’ to comfort John Lennon's then-five-year-old son, Julian, who was upset about his parents' divorce. Paul wanted to encourage Julian and give him a hopeful message that life would get better.

After years of drug abuse, Ozzy Osborne vowed to never take acid again after he engaged in an hour long conversation with a horse. “In the end, the horse turned around and told me to fuck off. That was it for me, enough was enough.”

After going on a trip and returning to find that his wife had died and had already been buried, Samuel Morse was inspired to work on the telegraph. He wanted to find a way to deliver messages promptly, so others wouldn't have to feel that kind of pain.

Hikikomori is a phenomenon in which people withdraw from social life, often seeking extreme degrees of isolation and confinement. The term is most commonly used in Japan, where an estimated half a million youths and a comparable number of middle-aged people live as hikikomori. They often refuse to leave their parents' house, avoid work or school, and isolate themselves for more than six months at a time.

Tokaido Shinkansen a.k.a. The Bullet Train has carried 5.6 billion passengers since it first opened and daily ridership has soared from 61,000 in 1964 to around 420,000 today, making it by far the busiest high-speed line not only in the Japan but also the world. The Tokaido Shinkansen cost Yen 380 billion to construct or £377 million at 1964 exchange rates. To date, the unfinished HS2 has cost taxpayers £100 billion.

A travel influencer who has been to more than 121 countries has branded the ‘penis village’ he found – complete with phallus murals and decorations – as the strangest destination he’s visited. Daniel Pinto, 25, discovered there was no shortage of items shaped like male members in Sopsokha, Bhutan. The village is located in the western part of the landlocked Asian country and has many penis symbols adorning buildings and sculptures on display. Mr Pinto, from Viseu, Portugal, said: “It’s a very beautiful traditional Bhutanese village surrounded by rice fields. But the closer you get the weirder it becomes.”

Okay, that’s enough information for one day. Have a tremendous and tumultuous Tuesday! I love you all.

[beetlejuicesgraveyardrevue]

anyways today is about celebrating nature and saying fuck you to the government and also wearing the municipal waste shirt i bought at warped tour in 2016

[countessofbiscuit]

Commander Fox Week - Day 2: Hope | Forgiveness

Commander Fox/Riyo Chuchi TW: Suicidal Thoughts  Teen, 500 Words @loving-fox-hours

The hostage crisis isn’t over for Commander Fox.  . . .

“Commander Fox, this is Executive One. You are ordered to stand down. I repeat, you are ordered to stand down and return to the Annex. Jedi will be sent to capture Ziro and Bane off-world. May I also remind you, that you’re in direct violation of your own standing order to maintain comms integrity with ATC and Guard command at all times?”

It was the Supreme Chancellor. 

The voice of the Republic. 

Fox couldn’t ignore him. Not for all the gems in Teta. Not even on the basis of very, very poor radio discipline. How many times did Fox have to explain brevity to the old fuck? 

Well. This was Palpatine’s channel. He could read Fox The Epic of Ha’rangir if he wanted to. 

In the utilities tunnel, Fox wrenched his bike to a halt, shoulder numbing from a slug. He hardly noticed. 

Adrenaline sloshed through his body. Anger gnashed within every crevice of his skull at being leashed again. And a sadness Fox didn’t know how to name prickled behind his eyes. He’d never lost something he wasn’t supposed to have before. 

“Copy, Executive One. Have ceased pursuit. Target exiting tunnel three-six-six-four-zero into quadrant wampa-18, over.” Training steered Fox’s tone. 

Fucking Blueys. This whole day had been amateur hour. From start to fucking finish. 

Senator Chuchi had been killed. 

Fox was sure of it. 

One exhale had separated executing his zero-fail mission and failure. Between pulling the trigger and not.

Even now, Fox’s breath felt stuck in that moment. Bane’s glabella had been right there, in the sweet spot of his sight, the brains of all the other perps lined up in the squad’s icons, when the Chancellor ordered Fox to step aside. To let Bane fly free. 

Obedience had taken reserves of stuff Fox didn’t even know he had. Like Fett himself reached out from the beyond, and stayed his finger. 

What had been profound discomfort had ruptured into agony, when the explosive reverb reached him. 

He’d never forgive himself. 

He’d never hesitate again. 

The Chancellor continued monopolizing the comms Fox had killed. “I understand your disappointment, Commander. But you are required back at the Senate. Immediately, if you please.”  

“Copy, sir.” 

How could the Chancellor ask him to go back? The masonry would be daubed in various shades of senator. He couldn’t bear to see Riyo like that. His cloudbreak of a lady ground into debris. 

Fox just sat there, on 120 units of kilothrust. Suddenly wondered what kind of splash he’d make on the permacrete wall opposite. His graffiti of grief wouldn’t last long down here. He’d just relayed his location; brothers would get to him before the municipal droids.

“Fox, this is Thire. Message, over.” 

“Fox, send, over.” It’d wash over him. The news. Like the punishing waste heat in this tunnel. His environmental system had kicked in, bringing essential comms back online.

“A squad’s reached the hostages. They’re alive. Casualties all T2s. Only one fatality — it’s not … they’re Rodian. Senator Philo.” 

“ ... Say again.”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Corruption

“Corruption” conjures images of bags of cash changing hands in deserted parking garages, but I’d like to propose a simple and concrete definition that goes beyond that: “Corruption” is when something bad happens because its harms are diffused and its gains are concentrated.

Here’s what I mean. West Virginia is known as coal country, but coal is actually a small, dwindling industry in WV; WV’s biggest industry is chemical processing, dominated by Dow — chem processing, like many industries, is heavily concentrated into a few global monopolies.

WV has a water crisis, with frequent “boil water” advisories. Its origins are in the chemical industry — specifically, in a regulatory proceeding where state regulators sought comment on whether to relax the EPA’s national guidelines on chemical runoff into drinking water.

Dow, acting through the manufacturers’ association it controls, argued the people of WV could absorb more poison than the national average because they were much fatter than the median American, and when they drank, it was mostly beer, not water.

https://washingtonmonthly.com/2019/03/14/the-real-elitists-looking-down-on-trump-voters/

No, really.

Here’s the thing. I’m not qualified to set the safe levels of different kinds of runoff in water-tables. It’s probably not zero (at least, not for most chemicals), but it’s also not “anything goes.”

It’s a question that requires subtle, interdisciplinary expertise: chemistry, health, environmental science. It’s an area where people of good faith can disagree.

These thorny, high-stakes technical questions that cross disciplines are the norm, not the exception.

Even if you have the technical knowhow to evaluate whether wearing masks fights covid, that doesn’t answer questions about vaccine safety, or whether zoom-school will turn your kid into an ignoramus.

Answer those questions and you’re left with still more: should you get in one of Southwest’s recertified Boeing 737-Max airplanes? Is the code specifying the reinforced steel joist that holds up your roof adequate, or is your building gonna collapse?

Should you eat carbs? Will your 401k preserve you through a dignified retirement? Answering all of these questions definitively for yourself requires earning 50+ PhDs, but also, people who have those PhDs don’t all agree with one another.

In a technologically complex world, there will always be official advice whose technical arguments we can’t understand. Our only reassurance is the process by which that advice is arrived at.

We may not understand the arguments, but we can recognize an open, independent process refereed by neutral regulators who show their work and recuse themselves if they have a conflict of interest.

We don’t always understand what goes on inside the box, but we can tell whether the box itself is sound. We can tell judges are financially interested in outcomes, whether they publish their deliberations, whether they revisit their conclusions in light of new evidence.

That’s all we’ve got, and it depends on a balance of powers that arises from a pluralistic, diffused set of industrial interests.

When an industry says with one voice that West Virginians are so fat that we can poison them without injury, it carries a lot of weight.

(so to speak)

It’s a stupid argument. It’s a wicked argument. It’s a lethal argument. It’s the kind of argument that might get you laughed out of the room if it is filled with hundreds of squabbling chemical companies looking to dunk on one another.

That’s the thing about conspiracies (and Dow was, in fact, engaged in a conspiracy to poison West Virginians to enrich its shareholders) — they require a lot of discipline, with all the conspirators remaining loyal to the conspiracy and no one breaking ranks.

The bigger a group is, the more it struggles to keep a united front. That’s why there’s so much billionaire class solidarity. Sure, it’s hard to maintain unity among a clutch of grandiose maniacs, but it’s much harder to maintain unity among billions of their victims.

Monopolization is corruption’s handmaiden — not just because it lets Dow hire fancy lawyers and “experts” to dress up “fat people are immune to poison” as sound policy, but because the industry can sing that awfful song with one voice.

Dow spent hundreds of thousands of dollars to win a policy that will save it millions — and cost the people of WV hundreds of millions or even billions in health costs, lost productivity, and, of course, the intergenerational trauma of ruined and lost human lives.

The reason millions in gains can trump billions in losses is that that the millions are reaped by just a few firms, who can wield them with precision to secure the continued right to impose costs on the rest of us, while the losses are spread out across the whole state.

For Dow to corrupt West Virginia’s legislature, it need only tithe a small percentage of its winnings to political causes and dark money orgs.

For West Virginians to fight corruption in the cash-money world of political influence campaigns, they have to overcome their collective action problem and outspend Dow — all while bearing the human and monetary costs of Dow’s corruption.

America is a land of manifest, obvious dysfunctions, and close examination reveals their common root in corruption.

Take the health-care system: Americans pay more for worse outcomes than anyone else in the rich world.

Their healthcare is rationed by faceless, cruel bureaucracies. They ration their medicine or skip necessary procedures. Patients hate this — but so do doctors and nurses, who have to hire armies of bureaucrats to fight with insurers.

Everyone hates this system. Everyone knows it’s rotten. Everyone — except for a handful of pharma, hospital and insurance monopolists, and the propagandists they pay to busily race through the crowd, busily swapping hats and shouting, “SOCIALISM! BOO! SOCIALISM!”

But while the US healthcare system is terrible at providing healthcare, it’s very good at jackpotting for monopolists. They reap billions while costing the public trillions, and they hand around millions to keep that situation intact.

We can see that in action right now. Nina Turner is running to take over a Congressional seat in northeastern Ohio vacated by Marcia Fudge when she joined Biden’s cabinet.

https://www.dailyposter.com/dems-launch-proxy-war-on-medicare-for-all/

For 30 years, every Congressional rep for Ohio’s 11th supported Medicare for All — a commensense measure to end the long waits, price gouging and cruel bureaucratic rationing of for-profit care. Unsurprisingly, Turner also supports M4A.

https://twitter.com/ninaturner/status/1404793650895331337?s=20

In response, a group of corporate, establishment Congressional Dems have launched an all-out attack on Turner’s candidacy, joining forces with health-care lobbyists to raise vast corporate fortunes to support her primary challenger, Shontel Brown.

The seven Dem lawmakers attacking Turner have collectively taken in $5m from pharma and health-care monopolists. James E Clyburn alone has pocketed $1m from pharma. He’s leading the charge against Turner.

https://twitter.com/TaylorPopielarz/status/1405121330433957888

Before Clyburn accepted $1m worth of pharma money, he co-sponsored Medicare For All legislation. Now he’s its most bitter opponent, insisting that it’s political poison (a majority of his constituents support M4A).

https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/2020-election/live-blog/south-carolina-primary-live-updates-democrats-vote-2020-candidates-n1145296/ncrd1146076

One million people in Ohio lost their jobs — and health care — during the pandemic. The system is murdering and maiming people. It’s a wasteful boondoggle that’s bad for everyone except a tiny minority of shareholders and the corrupt officials who accept their blood-money.

It’s not just healthcare. Think of Exxon Mobil’s crime against humanity and Earth: the 40-year coverup and disinformation campaign to delay action on the climate emergency. Exxon spent millions, made tens of billions, and cost us all trillions.

https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2021/jun/30/climate-crisis-crime-fossil-fuels-environment

The megadroughts, once-in-millennium heatwaves, raging wildfires, annual floods-of-the-century and zoonitic plagues Exxon bought with their millions were objectively a very bad deal — but their concentrated gains beat our much larger diffused losses (so far). #ExxonKnew.

But corruption creates policy debt, and the interest on that debt compounds — in a degraded environment, worsening health, precarious work, and a collapse in trust in institutions. The corrupt have a structural advantage, but it’s not a sure thing.

Take Ohio (again). The GOP-dominated Senate passed legislation to ban Ohio cities from offering municipal broadband. Now, municipal broadband is the best internet in America: cheaper, faster and more reliable than anything the telecoms monopolists offer.

There are ~900 (mostly Republican) towns and counties where people get their internet from their local government:

https://muninetworks.org/communitymap

And they fucking love it, just as much as their Comcast-burdened peers elsewhere hate their service:

https://web.archive.org/web/20180808223947/https://www.consumerreports.org/phone-tv-internet-bundles/people-still-dont-like-their-cable-companies-telecom-survey/

Muni networks are better at everything to do with the internet: connection speeds, price, and customer service. There’s only one area in which they underperform relative to telecoms monopolies: generating profits for shareholders by overcharging and underinvesting.

There’s only a tiny minority of people who’d trade good internet service for profitable internet service (namely, the people receiving the profits). But the pro-monopolists have concentrated gains, while the public experiences diffused losses.

That’s why the Ohio Senate passed its budget bill banning municipal networks. But when the budget was reconciled in the Ohio House, the measure was killed, thanks to an all-out uprising led by the people of Fairlawn, who stepped up to defend Fairlawngig, their muni ISP.

The victory for muni broadband is a triumph of evidence over corruption — proof that the diffused nature of corruption losses can be overcome. It’s cause for hope, especially in light of this week’s collapse of the antitrust case against Facebook.

https://www.wired.com/story/ftc-antitrust-case-against-facebook-very-much-alive/

Facebook escaped justice by citing the theories of Robert Bork, Nixon’s chief criminal co-conspirator and Ronald Reagan’s court sorcerer. Bork insisted that anittrust law had but one purpose: to keep prices down.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/28/dubious-quant-residue/#incinerators-r-us

Any other consideration, especially political corruption arising from market concentration, was out of scope.

The court agreed. No surprise; 40% of the US Federal judiciary has attended a lavish “Manne Seminar,” junkets where they are indoctrinated into Borkism.

But the absurdity of ruling that Facebook isn’t a fit subject for anti-monopoly law is the beginning of the end for Borkism, prompting bipartisan calls — led by Elizabeth Warren — to explicitly redesign American antitrust.

https://www.msn.com/en-us/money/other/facebooks-surprise-antitrust-victory-could-inspire-congress-to-overhaul-the-rules-entirely/ar-AALCJz8

Corruption has many costs: monetary, human, environmental. But every bit as important is the cost to institutional credibility. Remember, none of us are capable of understanding the technical nuances of the dozens of life-or-death decisions we face daily.

If we can’t trust our institutions — if we don’t believe that regulators are neutral, good-faith experts in ardent pursuit of the truth and the public good — then our very idea of shared reality collapses, as Snowden has written:

https://edwardsnowden.substack.com/p/conspiracy-pt1

It’s hard to overstate the sheer, reeling epistemological terror of institutional collapse. When the EPA allows the chemical industry to poison America, how can you know whether the products in the store can be trusted not to kill your family?

https://theintercept.com/2021/06/30/epa-pesticides-exposure-opp/

Remember, the Flint water crisis came about as the result of corruption: the promises of “experts” that taking shortcuts to save money would come out all right, despite the copious evidence to the contrary.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flint_Water_Crisis

What parent of a permanently damaged child, poisoned by lead deliberately introduced to save pittances for a tiny group of people, could ever trust any “expert” process again?

Michigan Republicans saved millions at the expense of billions, but the gains were concentrated among the wealthy white taxpayers of the state who enjoyed cuts to the top marginal rate, and the costs were born by the Black families of Flint. That’s corruption.

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP Meme from " Nagah" & "Nuwisha" & "Ratkin" & "Rokea" in "Chapter Two: The Changing Breeds" from the World of Darkness "Changing Breeds" book (20th Anniversary edition)

A few maintain ties to their old human lives, but even then they need a tight network of allies to maintain an illusion of normalcy.

To preserve secrecy, the cult reveals only a few hints about their existence before the outsider formally agrees to join.

Preserve the Sacred Secret at All Costs

Punish Those Who Betray Their Duties

Never Hunt Alone

Remain Humble

Abhor Imbalance

Strike Against the Corruptor if the Opportunity is True

Without information networks and clean-up crews, the assassins would be much less effective as a whole.

Cover your eyes

Try a bite of this apple

May I see your gun?

He may also be able to notice patterns when there should be randomness, order where there should be chaos, and times and places where these forces are out of balance.

The human will be oblivious to the serpent being there, even using rationalization to deny its presence.

Such simple tricks are generally all a truly skilled assassin needs.

Every other word out of her mouth is a falsehood, no matter how innocuous or simple the truth.

If these are mixed with the drink before it is converted it can make a poison that only affects the target.

Yes, we killed them. Another casualty of our past.

I wonder what the world would be like had we not been so stupid.

You are entirely repugnant, awful, scurrilous creatures.

We watch when you enjoy your work, in case you do so too much.

Dancers and mystics? What use were they?

You forget that others swim, down deeper than even you go.

We know what you do to one another when you think nobody else can see.

Weak and useless.

How would a dancer help me survive?

Let a Fool Die a Fool’s Death.

Teach Those Who Need Teaching a Proper Lesson

Be Subtle

Think, Then act

Sure, the victim won’t feel the benefit of the lesson for long, but his friends might learn as they wonder how they can avoid the same grisly fate.

Thankfully, this is quickly followed by the realization that their fun with comes a responsibility to teach and to make their pranks meaningful.

Even the noblest individuals can be brought low by public embarrassment.

Sometimes the best tricks need the target to sleep through anything.

After all, close friends and lovers know just where to stick a dagger to make sure it really hurts.

Over the next 24 hours one of them will suspect betrayal by the other.

With the cackling of laughter she can swap good fortune for bad, twisting the strings of probability and fate between her fingers — though she has no control over the outcome.

True love comes in many forms.

You came over here all high and mighty and now you’re sorry?

Say you’re sorry by doing something useful, maybe?

I cannot help but have a modicum of respect for someone who laughs in the face of certain death, even though I would be the agent of that death.

Let them test every rule, as long as they do not test my patience.

Yes, you got fucked. Yes, it was worse than nearly anyone else. But it’s time to wake up, now.

You laugh at everything. Marry me.

They sabotage infrastructure projects, booby-trap new municipal developments, and generally cause large-scale urban destruction.

They cannot stand toe-to-toe with their foes and expect to survive the encounter.

Survive so that you may breed.

Respect strength and exploit weakness.

Conflict breeds strength.

Build, steal, and suborn to strengthen your breeding grounds.

Trust your own kind before you trust outsiders.

When someone is responsible for injustice, make sure someone pays.

Some follow various twisted versions of apocalyptic human religions, others fervently believe conspiracy theories involving the end of the world, mystical coincidences, or simply the obvious truth that global warming, rampant pollution, and humans’ desire for fossil fuels could spell the end of the world.

They find space in various odd corners of cities, taking over cheap apartments or squatting in abandoned buildings.

Anything’s better than being alone.

I will defend our breeding grounds against all threats, physical and spiritual.

I shall seek revenge against those who prey upon my kind.

I will survive so that I may breed.

I must respect strength and exploit weakness.

I shall grow stronger through conflict.

I will learn from the mysteries of the spirit world.

I will revel in the visions the spirits grant me.

I will build, steal, and suborn to strengthen my breeding ground.

I shall nurture, instruct, and aid the young.

I will trust my own kind before I trust outsiders.

When someone is responsible for injustice, I will make sure someone pays.

Some are inclined to violence, others lose themselves in strange dreams and bouts of insanity.

These creatures are deformed, sterile, and a source of shame to their parents.

They know many secret methods of traveling from city to city.

They excel at stealth and subterfuge, knowing how to kill unseen, and also how to lead a pack against larger and stronger enemies.

They excel at hunting and fighting underground.

You are certain you will triumph in grandiose ways and want everyone to hear about your coming glory.

This is likely to involve a mixture of electricity, packs of store-bought batteries, energy drinks, illegal drugs — or a fusion of all of the above.

Stop holding yourselves back.

You know what it’s like, you feel it every day.

You aren’t slaves, stand and fight!

Rise up and seize what is yours!

Sometimes, they go too far, but even when they do I wish we had their strength of purpose.

You’re kindred spirits as far as I can see.

You want to fight, I can smell it. We’ll fight with you.

Small, smelly, and spoiling for a fight.

They throw themselves into battle too quickly, but we need their energy.

You want to know a secret? Come closer.

Knife? What knife?

We have seen too much sickness to spend our time with bringers of plague.

I spoke with one and learned much, but it is a feat I do not wish to repeat.

Some organized raiding parties that sank human ships.

These efforts were short-sighted, disorganized, and, ultimately, doomed to fail.

Their attacks did provoke a reaction, although it was not the intended one.

This organized killing was new to them, and driven by a largely unfamiliar emotion; fear.

This organized killing was new to them, and driven by a largely unfamiliar emotion; fear.

Your twisted plans waste time.

Talking is not doing.

They have secrets, but it is not worth the effort.

Do not fear them, for you will never see them.

You remember us.

You think you know us.

We do not remember how we were. We change. We survive.

[sofarsogoodsowhat]

wait okay just realized beerpressure is yr sideblog... municipal waste supremacy

YEAHHHHHH LETS FUCKING GOOOOOO i haven’t listened to em in a while cuz ive been on a deth + slayer + sabbath kick but i fucking love municipal waste

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Hello! I'm pretty sure I saw you mention a while ago that you were disappointed by confessions of the fox, would you mind explaining why? I've seen mostly good things about it myself. If I misremembered then I'm sorry and I hope you have a good day :))

I think this is one of my less popular opinions. And I understand - we so rarely get historical fiction with trans folk as the titular character (indeed, we rarely get any fiction what that). So I get people’s desire to laud it. 

For me though? It fundamentally didn’t work as a book. As a story.  

Let me count the ways. (Apologies in advance for the length of this.)

First: If you’re trans-ing someone who was historically cis instead of seeking to find a real, historical trans or gender-nonconforming person, I have questions. 

Most of the questions can be summed up as: Why? 

I struggle with historical fiction that takes a cis person and re-imagines them as trans as if there aren’t already literal historical, real trans people out there whose stories can be told. It smacks as (unintended, well meaning) erasure of lived experiences. 

Jack Sheppard, to the best of our knowledge, was a cis dude. There were trans folk in London in the 1710s and ‘20s. You might have to dig a bit for them, but they’re there. Because trans folk have always been there. 

Second: Characterisation 

This is more personal taste, but I found Jack and his girlfriend Bess to be inexcusably boring. How a trans, thief and gaolbreaker in 1720s gin-soaked London can be written as boring is anyone’s guess. But he was. 

Jack had no real personality and I found his story to be uninteresting. Oh, he’s the world’s best thief and gaolbreaker, that’s nice. But on its own it isn’t enough.

He had few to no faults. Childhood trauma isn’t a personality. Nor is being trans. And the author relies heavily on gender + occupation (thief-ness) to equal personality. So it falls very flat.  

Bess, his girlfriend, is a mixed-race sex worker from the Fens (even though actual real-Bess was from Edgeware). She seems to only exist to demonstrate that Jack is good at sex. She also veers a little into the Mystical Woman of Colour Healer Who Aids The White Person on their Journey of Self Discovery trope. 

Neither Bess nor Jack undergo any real change in the book. They exist in a weird stasis and experience no development, despite living through some harrowing things. They’re wooden dolls who move through the story without really engaging with, or being influenced by, the things around them. 

The other “main” character is a modern Academic who “found” this supposed “manuscript” of Jack’s life and is annotating it. His story unfolds in the foot notes and it’s just so messy if not a bit contrived. It didn’t make sense. I think the author was trying to convey that the Academic was in a sort of dystopian future, but if that’s the case it didn’t work. And if that’s not the case, the entire inclusion of the Academic’s story served only to annoy and take me out of the reading experience. 

E.g. There’s a scene where the Academic is being taken to task by the Dean for playing stupid games on his phone during office hours and like honey, lapsed-historian/academic here, trust me the Dean doesn’t give a fuck what you do during your office hours so long as you’re in your office and students can come bother you about their poor marks. 

The manuscript is supposedly being sought after by this pharmaceutical company for nefarious reasons that never struck me as being entirely realistic/believable. Also, the university was spying on this non-tenured, slightly useless Academic as if he somehow mattered? Which made zero sense. Anyway, it was stupid and should have been ripped out of the final version. OR changed substantially. 

Jonathan Wild, the thief taker (main antagonist to Jack), is probably the only interesting person. 

Third: Lack of Follow Through, or, the Fabulism Was Not Used Well 

The book tries to blend in some fabulism to the world by giving Jack the ability to “hear” the thoughts of inanimate objects. This could have been fun and gone to some interesting places, but it failed to deliver. 

I personally found the shoe-horning in of “capitalism commodifies everything” to be sloppy and heavy handed. It was done with little grace and didn’t sit right given that we are dealing with the early modern period. Yes, you can use the past to critique our modern woes, but do it intelligently. Don’t slap modern points of view and understandings of things onto the past and expect them to make sense. 

Anyway, Jack spends the book hearing inanimate objects talk to him, asking him to “free” them, or something. And uh .. .it doesn’t go anywhere interesting after that. 

Also the correlation one can draw from these objects to, you know, slaves, is uncomfortable. Especially as it’s the cargo of the EIC ships that Jack hears. I don’t think it’s intended in any sort of malicious way, but the allusion is there and I always found it to be distinctly uncomfortable. 

Fourth: Misuse of Marxist Theory, or, More Heavy Handed Moralizing that Annoyed the Dear Reader because it wasn’t subtle and, more importantly, it wasn’t done intelligently. 

So, the author is an academic - studies 18th century lit. Which is readily apparent as his Academic (self-insert) character is, I believe, supposed to be a historian and uh ... you can tell that the author doesn’t know enough to wing that. E.g. How he interprets some of the laws and customs of the time. Instead of understanding the social, economic and, most importantly, environmental issues that gave birth to laws like “the corporation of the city of London owns the streets so you can’t muckrake” he chooses to understand them through a very 21st century lens (and a Marxist one at that. I know I’m perhaps a bit uncool for this, but I find the application of Marxist theory to the early modern period to be ... not useful). 

Do you know why, mid/late 17th century London passed these municipal laws? Because of the god damn fucking plague you numb nut. You absolute buffoon. It had nothing to do with “oh the City/government is evil and wants to own you” it had to do with the fact that no one cleaned the goddamn street. So the city took over doing it. 

Prior to this, in London, you were supposed to keep the street in front of your building clear of waste, debris, refuse etc. No one did this, of course. I live where it’s cold and snows a lot and people can barely shovel the 2 sq ft of sidewalk in front of their driveway in the winter. I dread the idea of an average homeowner being expected to keep the street clear and clean. 

Anyway, guess what dirty streets attract? Vermin. Guess what comes with vermin? Plague. Guess what happened in 1665/66? The great plague of London! 

17th century England might not have understood germ theory, but they did understand correlation. (Also, the population of London was doubling at the back half of the 17th century and streets needed to be reliably cleared for through-traffic reasons etc. etc.) 

ugh, sorry, that one in particular drove me up the wall. Not everything is a capitalist conspiracy. Especially when we’re talking about municipal by-laws from the 17th century. 

And I understand the temptation to read a lot of modern interpretation of words like “corporation” and “company” onto bodies that used these same words in 17th and 18th centuries. But the weight, meaning and connotation of “the worshipful company of merchant adventurers” is different from, I don’t know, “the tech company google” or whatever. The early 18th century is when we start seeing the birth of the stock market, of “venture companies” (i.e. merchant adventure companies), of a lot of the language and proto-iterations of what will grow to be economic institutions of our time. But it doesn’t mean they’re the same and that difference is important. Because Jack Sheppard is a man living in 1720 he’s not going to be having our modern 21st century critiques of capitalism because his engagement with the economic systems of his time would have been radically different to our own experiences. 

Fifth:  Unbelievable Top Surgery & Recovery 

So, Jack gets top surgery. In 1720s fever-ridden London. While quarantining in a brothel. 

And he lived! No infection! No tearing! He was up and about in a matter of days. I don’t remember if his nipples survived the operation or not but somehow Jack did. Without anesthetics! Or you know, any concept of hygiene. 

His Mystical Girlfriend Who Exists to Show How Good Jack is at Sex is also somehow Magically Very Literate and also Magically a Surgeon? and performs this surgery on Jack in the middle of a plague. 

The entire ordeal was so poorly handled in terms of believability that I literally set the book down and said “what the fucking fuck” to the empty room then drank wine before finishing the chapter. 

An aside, it is funny thinking about the quarantine chapters at this point. I read COTF when it first came out a few years ago. Sweet summer children, we none of us had any idea how to write quarantine scenes. 

That reminds me: the entire quarantine thing was presented as the government trying to control movement and take away people’s rights etc. instead of a very normal, typical response that cities had been enacting since 1350. Samuel Pepys, who lived through the 1665/66 epidemic, barely even notes the restrictions. He’s like just “hmmm I’d love to go to the pub but I also don’t want to die. so. *shrug*” 

At the time of the author’s writing, most of us in the western world had no idea how normal and day-to-day disease was for our ancestors and yes, sometimes there would be crackdowns to try and curb it if an epidemic hit. That was part and parcel of life. So again, Jack and Bess wouldn’t be like “ooooh we’re 21st century slightly libertarian lefitsts who think the government is doing this to control us and for nefarious purposes”. Much more likely, they would have been like Pepys and viewed it as nuisance, albeit a necessary one. 

Sixth: Overall Lack of Realism 

I think I’ve noted the big moments where I was like “no one in the early 18th century would think that I’m pretty certain”. This isn’t to say people didn’t grouse, complain about London government (and the king etc.), critique or question the world they lived in. They absolutely did! Regularly. With great verve and gusto, if the broadsheets are anything to go by. But their critiques, their complaints, suggestions for bettering life, are not the same as ours. Because how could they be? They lived in a different world, were responding to specific things, grew up hearing and believing certain things etc. 

Jack, aside from having minimal to no character, really did read like a modern slightly-libertarian leftist who was plunked into a novel that takes place three hundred years ago. 

In addition to unrealistic political views, his understanding of body, gender, sexuality and identity also read as incredibly modern. Now this is harder, because we have so few extant sources from that time on those who lived non-gender conforming lives, and from their point of view, so yes creative imagining and interpretation is the rule of the day for writing that. 

But, we do know how in general the average person engaged and understood gender and sexuality and that would, naturally, inform anyone whose experience was different. And that base line of “probably what a typical cis Englishman or woman felt about their body and identity” wasn’t present. At all. 

Indeed, gender engagement at that time was interesting. The concept of the body, the role of the physical body, how it was interpreted is absolutely fascinating and the author could have done some really cool things with that. But he didn’t. He went for slapping a modern interpretation onto the past. 

At this point, write a dystopian novel and make Jack a fictional character. That probably would have gone over better, for me at least. The conceit can remain the same: It’s the year 4056 and an Academic found a manuscript from the year 3045 when the Dystopia Was a Thing - and go from there. 

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I think part of what made this very popular and why people seem so taken with it is that it reads smart. It reads like someone who has immersed themselves in that world etc. because of the slang and language used. 

Yet, for me, as someone who has studied this period extensively, especially queerness in London in the late 17th and early 18th centuries, it read flat and unrealistic. 

I was initially very enthused when I started it. There are some posts to that effect on my blog. But it very quickly went south. It tries very hard to be Radical and Smart and Subversive and Critiquing Everything and so I think it fails at the fundamental thing it should be doing: telling a good story. 

(Note: The book does try and address racism in London at this time. It also felt a bit forced. And Jack seemed to have no prejudices or preconceived notions about Indian and Black folk which isn’t realistic. Like, it might make him #Problematic but my dude, you’re writing a man born in 1702. He’s going to have some iffy views. That can be challenged! Absolutely. But they still would have existed.) 

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Thank you for the ask! I again apologize for the length of the reply. 

[lawyerd]

ik you started out law school 100% devoted to public interest and I think you mentioned you shifted to now do private first for a bit. as I'm starting ls this fall and also have PI goals, I was wondering if you would mind talking about that decision? would it be different if you were a different school, place, etc.? love your blog and hoping you are safe rn!

Hey! 

Ha yeah I have been on a JOURNEY 

A LONG JOURNEY so it is under a cut (at least I think it is? Sorry if it’s not. Xkit is messing with me here).

I’ve told this story in bits and pieces before because I think I was actively figuring it out for myself at the time, but I think - I hope?? - I finally know what I’m doing, so this is a far fuller picture of my thoughts and experiences from the last few years 

I actually came to law school because I was interested in politics and had some vague thought that people in politics had law degrees, so I could make this work for myself. Before I started law school, our school mailed us a copy of Just Mercy and during my 1L year I worked with the Innocence Project on a case, and then events in my personal life led to the arrest and incarceration of two separate people close to me for offenses that I personally believe should be decriminalized, so I felt passionate about criminal justice and took an internship with a public defenders office. 

The experience wasn’t quite what I thought it would be - my two largest projects were particularly gruesome child pornography defense cases, which was not the work I was interested in doing (and, in retrospect, was a pretty brutal way to introduce a fresh-faced student to public defense work!) - so afterward I cast around aimlessly for a bit. I soon thereafter made law review, and then got an internship with a Federal judge I admired, so I started running in a particular law school circle (law students know the type) and began thinking well, I’m not sure what I want to do, but I now have a very classic big law background, I’ve missed OCI (the on-campus interviewing that happens in the summer after 1L that leads to post-grad jobs in Big Law), but I can start networking and find something that’ll lead me somewhere. 

I grew up poor and can’t lie, I was attracted to the idea of big law money! I figured I’d do it for a few years and if I hated it, soft-exit through a clerkship to something more public interest. But in the meantime, hey it’s good experience and I can pay down my student loans. So I took my third internship in a corporate litigation firm. And again, it just was not for me. The environment of the particular office was very isolating, the work was depressing (foreclosing on people’s homes on behalf of banks! asbestos defense! defending employers in discrimination suits!).

So, I kind of scrapped that second, new plan. It’s hard to say I’d turn down one of those jobs if I managed to land one (we are in a pandemic and oh my god they do pay SO MUCH MONEY and I have SO MUCH DEBT), but it’s not where my values are, not something I could stomach long-term, and it’s not work I’m actively out seeking. I finished my law school internships working for a municipal law firm, thinking that would be a good way to marry my interest in politics with my interest in litigation, but it felt a lot like just working at a private DAs office, which I didn’t realize when I started (somehow!) and didn’t particularly enjoy. Just felt like the majority of the work I was doing was litigating punitive laws against the citizenry that I didn’t particularly care for. 

Which brings me to now. Three-week post-grad Kit. Hello! Sounds like I’ve still got no fucking clue what I’m doing, but I promise you I have sorted it out now. None of those roles was the exact position I was looking for (well, the judge’s chambers were pretty great) but each taught me enough about what I am looking for that I’m feeling comfortable about my next steps. Notably, I learned that I enjoy litigation a LOT (I did a transactional drafting clinic at school just to dip my toes into those waters to make sure I wasn’t missing out on anything and oh boy, I was not) and I learned from topics that I did not enjoy litigating what I might actually enjoy litigating. In particular, there were several times when I found the law I was working with particularly invigorating but wished that I was doing the plaintiff’s side work on those topics. These areas include torts and employment law cases, but I have also had some exposure to zoning and affordable housing work that I really enjoyed. I also worked as a Tort Law TA for two years, so I think just really freaking enjoy torts. I have also had more exposure to criminal justice work and recently have been rejecting that I didn’t apply to the public defender's office in my region during their last round of hiring. 

I am not currently looking for a job (seems like a waste to pour so much into it when clearly nobody is hiring right now) other than glancing vaguely to make sure I’m not missing anything huge, but once I’ve taken the bar exam I’m going to start earnestly seeking plaintiff’s side litigation positions or if I can get it, misdemeanor criminal defense (again, would love to be a public defender, but I have slightly missed the boat there for now). My downstairs neighbor is an attorney at a small firm that does plaintiff's side civil litigation and defendant’s side criminal defense and I would be thrilled if I could land something similar. I just...want to work with people and not corporations and help those people through some of their worst days, if I can. Personal Injury attorneys get a bad rap, but I’m telling you, I fucking love Torts and I genuinely believe there is a public good in helping harmed parties recover expenses from their injuries from wrongdoers.

I think when people hear “public interest” their first thought is non-profit or governmental work, but it’s broader than that. The clinics at my school are all considered “public interest” and some were in areas of law like intellectual property. It’s not about where you work, but the clients you serve. I think I would prefer the kind of firm work I have outlined above to any kind of non-profit because non-profits have more narrow missions and usually work in a more narrow legal capacity (i.e. the ACLU does entirely civil rights law, meanwhile the small firm my neighbor works at that I’ve already used as a point of reference does civil rights cases in addition to family law, securities regulation for some reason, personal injury, etc), but honestly, it would be a privilege to work for a principled non-profit, so I wouldn’t say no to that either. 

So that’s where I’m at. It’s been a ride. I’m tired? Is that from the personal journey or is that from typing out six paragraphs about the personal journey? I came to law school because I felt strongly about my own personal values and thought I would like to translate those values into policy. I learned while at law school that litigation is as important an agent for change and protection of the oppressed as legislation and also learned that honestly guys, I am really freaking good at oral arguments and litigation briefs, so I’ve pivoted to this lane. Went on a long journey and it basically took me back to where I started. It’s almost annoying I was so derailed because I could have gotten some great Plaintiff’s side experience while in school, but I didn’t know what I was doing and was flailing openly, casting around. I’m just happy I figured it out now.