#Presidential Transportation

[deadpresidents]

Do US Presidents use body doubles?

To the best of my knowledge there has never been any body doubles used for the President of the United States other than the movie "Dave."

The Secret Service frequently uses decoys of vehicles and aircraft while transporting the President. When the President is traveling on Marine One there is often one or more decoys of the helicopter which, of course, look exactly the same as one another, and once they are in the air, they leapfrog each other like an aerial shell game to confuse any potential assailants on the ground. But there's never been any credible rumors of Presidents using body doubles like Uday Hussein once did.

[Photo by President Obama's official White House photographer, Pete Souza, 2009]

[presidentialtranspo]

Black Car Service | Presidential Transportation

We at Presidential Transportation offer SUV black car service in Seattle at the best prices. Our luxury vehicles are perfect to accommodate up to 7 passengers. Book your services with us today!

[nocternalrandomness]

"Marine One" on a stopover at Brackett Field Airport, CA - 7 Oct 2014

[harriswalz4usabybr]

Speech Vice President Harris gave in Indianapolis, IN!

~BR~

[msclaritea]

I am very much over this ongoing micro martyring of Pete Buttigieg with the implication being pushed, that he's really being picked on for being Homosexual, not allegedly incompetent as Transportation Secretary. Buttigeig was/is a whole ass bigot, who got a makeover at lightning speed. This is all total bullshit, when it's pretty obvious that not only are many of the GOP Homosexual, but many, many....MANY of the modern Democratic Party are, also. Why else would they push such toxic movements onto our children, with the full approval of the Republican Party? If you choose to expose your kids, they got you. If you reject it... likely swinging hard right, they still got you. Fuck all of Congress. Get on their asses, to get real shit done.

#FrancisScottKeyBridge #LGBTQ #PoliticalLobby #Washington #JayInslee #BidenAdministration #TransgenderCult #Israel #WEF #JustinTrudeau #WomensRights #AbortionRights #VotingRights #TaxScam #TAXTHERICH #DOJ #SCOTUS

[batboyblog]

Things the Biden-Harris Administration Did This Week #39

October 18-25 2024.

President Biden issued the first presidential apology on behalf of the federal government to America's Native American population for the Indian boarding school policy. For 150 years the federal government operated a system of schools which aimed to destroy Native culture through the forced assimilation of native children. At these schools students faced physical, emotional, and sexual abuse, and close to 1,000 died. The Biden-Harris Administration has been historic for Native and Tribal rights. From the appointment of the first ever Native American cabinet member, Secretary of the Interior Deb Haaland, to the investment of $46 billion dollars on tribal land, to 200 new co-stewardship agreements. The last 4 years have seen a historic investment in and expansion of tribal rights.

The Biden-Harris Administration proposed a new rule which would make contraceptive medication (the pill) free over the counter with most Insurance. The new rule would ban cost sharing for contraception products, including the pill, condoms, and emergency contraception. On top of over the counter medications, the new rule will also strength protections for prescribed contraception without cost sharing as well.

The EPA announced its finalized rule strengthening standards for lead paint dust in pre-1978 housing and child care facilities. There is no safe level of exposure to lead particularly for children who can suffer long term developmental consequences from lead exposure. The new standards set the lowest level of lead particle that can be identified by a lab as the standard for lead abatement. It's estimated 31 million homes built before the ban on lead paint in 1978 have lead paint and 3.8 million of those have one or more children under the age of 6. The new rule will mean 1.2 million fewer people, including over 300,000 children will not be exposed to lead particles every year. This comes after the Biden-Harris Administration announced its goal to remove and replace all lead pipes in America by the end of the decade.

The Department of Transportation announced a $50 million dollar fine against American Airlines for its treatment of disabled passengers and their wheelchairs. The fine stems from a number of incidences of humiliating and unfair treatment of passages between 2019 and 2023, as well as video documented evidence of mishandling wheelchairs and damaging them. Half the fine will go to replacing such damaged wheelchairs. The Biden administration has leveled a historic number of fines against the airlines ($225 million) for their failures. It also published a Airline Passengers with Disabilities Bill of Rights, passed a new rule accessible lavatories on aircraft, and is working on a rule to require airlines to replace lost or damaged wheelchairs with equal equipment at once.

The Department of Energy announced $430 million dollars to help boost domestic clean energy manufacturing in former coal communities. This invests in projects in 15 different communities, in places like Texas, West Virginia, Pennsylvania, Tennessee, Kentucky, and Michigan. The plan will bring about 1,900 new jobs in communities struggling with the loss of coal. Projects include making insulation out of recycled cardboard, low carbon cement production, and industrial fiber hemp processing.

The Department of Transportation announced $4.2 billion in new infrastructure investment. The money will go to 44 projects across the country. For example the MBTA will get $400 million to replace the 92 year old Draw 1 bridge and renovate North Station.

The Department of Transportation announced nearly $200 million to replace aging natural gas pipes. Leaking gas lines represent a serious public health risk and also cost costumers. Planned replacements in Georgia and North Carolina for example will save the average costumer there over $900 on their gas bill a year. Replacing leaking lines will also remove 1,000 metric tons of methane pollution, annually.

The Department of the Interior announced $244 million to address legacy pollution in Pennsylvania coal country. This comes on top of $400 million invested earlier this year. This investment will help close dangerous mine shafts, reclaim unstable slopes, improve water quality by treating acid mine drainage, and restore water supplies damaged by mining.

Data shows that President Biden's Inflation Reduction Act (passed with Vice-President Harris' tie breaking vote) has saved seniors $1 billion dollars on out-of-pocket drug costs. Seniors with certain high priced drugs saw their yearly out of pocket costs capped at $3,500 for 2024. In 2024 all seniors using Medicare Part D will see their out of pocket costs capped at $2,000 for the year. It's estimated if the $2,000 cap had been in effect this year 4.6 million seniors would have hit it by June and not have had to pay any more for medication for the rest of the year.

The Department of Education announced a new proposed rule to bring student debt relief for 8 million struggling borrowers. The Biden-Harris Administration has managed despite road blocks from Republicans in Congress, the courts and law suits from Republican states to bring student loan forgiveness to 5 million Americans so far through different programs. This latest rule would take into account many financial hardships faced by people to determine if they qualify to have their student loans forgiven. The final rule cannot be finalized before 2025 meaning its fate will be decided at the election.

The Department of Agriculture announced $1.5 billion in 92 partner-driven conservation projects. These projects aim at making farming more susceptible and environmental friendly, 16 projects are about water conservation in the West, 6 support use of innovative technologies to reduce enteric methane emissions in livestock. $100 million has been earmarked for Tribal-led projects.

[nudityandnerdery]

In my dream world, this is the kind of news our presidential election is focused on.

[popcornoncemore]

It's like there are two sides of the highway and we must choose which traffic to run across without dying, however, one side of the highway was also constructed with terrible building practices and no regard for safety.

You are risking getting hit either way, but one path might also get you into a full-scale collapse that takes the whole lane down too

The cars are dangerous on both sides, the road itself is only actually dangerous on one side

just some reminders if you’re watching the american presidential debate right now:

1. it’s going to be okay. if we take action, we will get through this.

2. choosing not to vote is a choice to elect trump. no matter how much you hate biden, he’s the only option- and despite being a literal walking corpse and a professional yapper, he will stop project 2025 from being implemented. please vote. we need it.

[covid-safer-hotties]

With the toll of new COVID-19 infections regularly topping 1 million a day and weekly deaths creeping toward the 1,000 mark, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) has launched a campaign aimed not at protecting the public from this ongoing pandemic, now in its fifth year, but at washing its hands of responsibility.

CDC Director Dr. Mandy Cohen held a press conference August 23 to review the state of the COVID-19 pandemic and encourage the public to get their winter COVID-19, RSV and flu vaccines once they are made available. While bluntly acknowledging that “COVID is with us,” she tried unconvincingly to assure reporters and viewers that “we have the tools to protect ourselves.” She then added, as a way of shifting the blame, “We just need to use them!”

Dr. Cohen was silent on who was responsible for the failure of most Americans to get booster shots or otherwise protect themselves from a disease, which can be fatal for many and cause lifelong debilitation for many more.

She could have named the Democratic administration of Joe Biden and Kamala Harris, which ended the COVID-19 emergency more than a year ago and treats the pandemic as a thing of the past. She could have named Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump, the promoter of quack remedies like ivermectin and bleach, who recently welcomed into his campaign the anti-vaxxer and enemy of science and public health, Robert F. Kennedy Jr.

And if she had been equipped with a mirror—and a conscience—she could have pointed to herself and other top CDC officials, who have collaborated in the anti-scientific rampage to shut down both mitigation efforts and even elementary data collection on cases of illness, hospitalization and death.

Most importantly (and therefore least likely) she could have acknowledged that within the framework of the capitalist system, the profits of giant banks and corporations are far more important than the lives of human beings. That is the meaning of the incessant claims that schools, factories, public transportation and facilities must be kept open, to save “the economy,” despite the inevitable spread of the infection as a result.

Dr. Cohen, like her predecessors and colleagues at the top of the public health establishment, puts political pressures above science and medicine. The nearly hour-long briefing was simply political theater, where a panel of experts attempted to place the public health agency in the best light despite acknowledging the monumental number of daily infections that have seen hospitalizations and fatalities climb.

Meanwhile, schools across multiple states have announced closures—affecting thousands—just as the new academic year has begun, in response to mass infections among faculty and students.

So far this year, more than 26,000 Americans have died from acute COVID-19 complications, and more than 800 per week are being killed by a preventable infection, a figure 20 percent higher than last year this time. At the current rate, it is expected that between 50,000 to 60,000 Americans will die from COVID-19 in 2024, a rate two to three times higher than fatalities from flu. However, these do not take into consideration excess deaths, and given the complete dismantling of the reporting systems, these figures are known undercounts.

Such figures could only appear low in comparison to the colossal death toll of the first three years of the pandemic, when 352,000 died in 2020, 464,000 in 2021 and 260,000 in 2022. In 2023, 76,000 COVID-19 deaths were recorded. All these numbers are underestimates, as excess mortality figures are considerably higher. The cumulative death toll from COVID-19 is likely well over 1.4 million in the United States and approaching 30 million worldwide.

Neither did the panel address any concerns over the fact that millions continue to suffer from Long COVID, which has taken a significant toll on the health of Americans and the world over. It bears mentioning that a recent study noted that 410 million people across the world have had Long COVID with a $1 trillion impact on global GDP. Yet, no treatment for this condition exists. Without health insurance and means, issues of brain fog, chronic fatigue and sleep disturbances become part of one’s physiognomy.

Much about Dr. Cohen’s characterization of the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic is deeply flawed and should have been taken up by the press, who remained silent on the matter. First and foremost, her claim, in response to a direct question that COVID-19 “is endemic,” is completely misleading.

An infection is endemic when it is contained, not spreading uncontrolled and not causing significant impact on the society. COVID-19 is none of these. It remains a pandemic, with new waves of infections where millions are being infected daily by a virus whose mutation far outstrips the efforts of public health agencies and pharmaceutical companies to provide vaccines, medicines and mitigation practices. It continues to cause large-scale social disruption, economic loss and general hardship.

The opposition of both capitalist parties to any significant effort to fight the pandemic was on display last week. The Democratic National Convention, like its Republican counterpart in July, was a massive superspreader event, with thousands of delegates and media personnel congregating in an enclosed arena, where there was continuous cheering, shouting and singing. There are already anecdotal reports of widespread sickness in state delegations returning from Chicago.

As for the Republicans, Trump staged his appearance with Robert F. Kennedy Jr. on Friday afternoon, beaming as Kennedy announced he was folding up his independent presidential campaign and endorsing the ex-president and would-be dictator. Kennedy said he was working with Trump on staffing agencies like the CDC, NIH, FDA and USDA from the standpoint of ending the “chronic disease crisis.” By this he means, of course, ending efforts to fight diseases and letting children, the elderly, and the entire American population suffer the consequences.

Fundamentally, all large epidemics and pandemics are serious social issues that require broad-scale infection control in place to disrupt and prevent disease. And with respect to COVID-19 and all future pandemics, these require an international collaborative perspective.

In 2024 so far, 179 million people were infected in the United States, a total that is eventually expected to surpass 2023, when more than 248 million Americans, or three-quarters of the population, caught COVID-19. SARS-CoV-2 wastewater levels throughout the pandemic suggest that there have been more than 1.1 billion infections in the United States, between three and four for every person in the country.

This begs the question how are those most vulnerable, such as the elderly, immunocompromised, and those with chronic disabling medical conditions, which represent a significant portion of the population, to protect themselves from perpetual mass infection?

For the CDC director to present public health efforts as a matter of individual, personal choice is a gross falsification of reality. The policy of mass infection has been forced on the population.

As for having the tools to protect themselves, what is being offered are simply vaccines and more vaccines as a means to prevent COVID-19. As the WSWS recently noted, “Despite the limitations, the uptake of the vaccines is vital for the health of the population. The shots have a strong, proven safety record and do prevent severe disease and potentially reduce the risk of Long COVID, as studies have indicated. However, they do not prevent infections and the immunity they offer is short-lived given the constant mutation of the virus.”

The vaccines by Pfizer and Moderna carry a cost of $120 to $130 per shot. In some regions, these can be as high as $160 or even $200. However, the rescinding in March of $4.3 billion from the Department of Health and Human Services in COVID-19 supplemental funding means access to free vaccines for the 26 million uninsured and tens of millions more underinsured, essentially all from working class families, will only mean that the vaccination campaign will simply languish as it did last year when only 7 million Americans accepted the boosters within six weeks of their delivery to pharmacies.

As for other tools in their toolbox, Cohen refers to anti-viral treatments like Paxlovid, which are regularly being denied to patients by their physicians or when they actually are given a prescription, face the daunting price tag of $1,300 to $2,400 per course because their insurance denies them coverage. Meanwhile, repurposed medications like Metformin, a drug that treats diabetes, which has shown anti-viral properties and shown in randomized trials to reduce COVID-19 viral loads and decrease risk of Long COVID, remain unmentioned. In particular, this raises the question of why there are so few tools in the toolbox, and why some are being removed, such as the ability to wear N95 masks in public.

The arrest of an 18-year-old New York man in Nassau County on Tuesday who was wearing a black ski mask utilizing the recently passed mask-ban legislation will only embolden police departments and threaten the public who face possible detentions and arrest simply on charges of police suspicion.

At the Democratic National Convention, guidance was issued forbidding mask wearing by attendees unless “it was necessary due to a disability” and this at the discretion of security.

[deadpresidents]

New Marine One helicopter:

Classic Marine One helicopter:

Adorable JFK-era Marine One helicopter that looks like it should be able to talk:

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

1968 [Chapter 3: Hermes, God Of Thieves]

Series Summary: Aemond is embroiled in a fierce battle to secure the Democratic Party nomination and defeat his archnemesis, Richard Nixon, in the presidential election. You are his wife of two years and wholeheartedly indoctrinated into the Targaryen political dynasty. But you have an archnemesis of your own: Aemond’s chronically delinquent brother Aegon.

Series Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, character deaths, New Jersey, age-gap relationships, drinking, smoking, drugs, pregnancy and childbirth, kids with weird Greek names, historical topics including war and discrimination, math.

Word Count: 4.5k

Tagging: @arcielee @huramuna @glasscandlegrenades @gemmagirlss1 @humanpurposes @mariahossain @marvelescvpe @darkenchantress @aemondssapphirebussy @haslysl @bearwithegg @beautifulsweetschaos @travelingmypassion @althea-tavalas @chucklefak @serving-targaryen-realness @chaoticallywriting @moonfllowerr @rafeism @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @herfantasyworldd @mangosmootji @sunnysideaeggs

💜 All of my writing can be found HERE! 💜

They say it’s the most dangerous job in Vietnam. That’s why I wanted to do it.

Chinooks transport men and equipment, Cobras are gunships, Jolly Green Giants are used in search-and-rescue missions. But the Loach—Light Observation Helicopter—is a scout. We have to fly low enough to spot fresh footprints in mud, glints of sunlit metal, blooms of firelight from smoldering cigarettes in the primordial maze of the jungle. And when you go looking for the enemy, sometimes that’s exactly who you find. U.S. Army regulations decree that each Loach must be inspected after 300 hours of flight time, but they rarely make it that long. I’ve been shot down twice already. You roll out of the wreckage, grab your buddies, and book it out of the area before the Vietcong kill you, or worse: drag you back to the Hanoi Hilton so you can die slow.

Currently we’re just north of Pleiku, coasting close enough to the treetops that I could reach out and touch them. I’m in the back seat with my M16, no door between me and the outside world, my hair tied back with a green bandana, the wind hot and sticky. It’s so fucking humid here. Why can’t the communists be trying to take over Malta or Sweden or Monterey Bay, California?

It was the old men who suggested I might be of greatest service to the family by enlisting. I was 25, newly graduated from Columbia Law—a family tradition—and dreading the desk job that awaited me at the Department of Justice. Some people are born to type their lives away in some leather-upholstered office with a view of Pennsylvania Avenue, but not me, and I know this like I know the sun or the stars, ancient truths that can never be changed. And so when Otto and Viserys sat me down—my father had only had one stroke by that point, and was still relatively involved in the day-to-day minutia of putting a Targaryen in the White House—and said Aemond having a brother in Vietnam would make him more relatable, more sympathetic, more noble, not an observer to the carnage of the war but a fellow victim of it…I told them I’d go.

Everyone needs a project. If you don’t have something to distract you from the futility of human existence, it’ll break you in half. I have the Loach. Otto and Viserys, both immigrants ineligible to serve as president of the United States, have their shared ambition of getting their bloodlines in the Oval Office. Aemond has his legacy. My mother has her children, and Criston has my mother. Helaena has her gardens, her bugs, quiet gentle things that she tends with her own thorn-pricked hands. Aegon doesn’t have a project, he never really has, and it’s driven him to the cliff’s edge of insanity. See what I mean?

Anyway, let me tell you something about Vietnam. The Army gives us all the steak, beer, and cigarettes we can handle, but I’d kill for a lemon-lime Mr. Misty—

“Daeron, get down!” the guy to my left screams over the noise of the rotors. His name is Richie Swindell, and he’s from Omaha, Nebraska, and now he’s plummeting out of the helicopter as bullets riddle his chest. I duck low and cover my head as we spiral sideways into the trees, snapping branches, shredding leaves like confetti. I can hear the pilot yelling something, but I can’t tell what. When we hit the earth, the lightweight aluminum skin of the Loach does exactly what it’s supposed to, crumpling to absorb the shock of the collision and reduce trauma to us mortals inside. I scramble out of the rubble on my hands and knees and go to check on the pilot, but it’s too late. He’s already being hauled out by the Vietcong and gets a bullet to the brain. I reach back into the ruins of the Loach to grab my M16, but there are hands around my ankles yanking me out. And now I’m next, and there’s nowhere left to run, and I’m hoping Criston will be there to hold my mother when she gets the Western Union telegram.

One of the soldiers shouts and stops the others, shoving them aside to get a better look at me. With the barrel of his AK-47, supplied by either China or the Russians, he prods at the patch displaying my last name: Targaryen. His compatriots don’t seem impressed. Again, he batters my nametag, speaking to them in Vietnamese.

He knows who I am, I realize. He knows Aemond is running for president.

Now there is a hell of a lot of excitement. The men are talking rapidly amongst themselves, marveling at me, poking and examining me. Then two of them grab me by the arms. I look to the soldier who knows English, at least enough of it to read those nine fated letters. He smiles at me, not like a friend. Like a wolf baring its teeth.

He says: “It is okay, Targaryen boy. We just have some questions for you.”

Guess I’ll be checking into the Hanoi Hilton after all.

~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up to Aegon strumming an acoustic guitar and singing Johnny Cash. The guitar must be new. The one he left at Asteria is plain maple wood and covered in stickers; this unfamiliar instrument is a vivid, Caribbean blue and has Gibson written across the headstock.

“I hear the train a-comin’, it’s rolling ‘round the bend

And I ain’t seen the sunshine since I don’t know when

I’m stuck in Folsom Prison, and time keeps draggin’ on…”

“Let me die. I’m ready to go.”

Aegon laughs, setting his new guitar aside.

“Is Ari okay?”

“Yeah, he’s doing great. And I got the stuff you asked for.”

Sure enough, there are three roomy sundresses hanging from the coatrack—you wanted to have options in case you had trouble finding one that fit correctly, though you gave Aegon a general neighborhood for sizes—as well as an array of cosmetics on the nightstand, including a bottle of shimmering champagne-colored nail polish. “I’m really impressed. You barely forgot anything. Though I will look odd with blush but no foundation.”

“Ohhhhh. Fuck.”

“And this isn’t human shampoo. It’s for dogs. That’s why it has a mastiff on the label.”

“I thought it looked like you,” Aegon says, smirking mischievously.

“Well, thanks for trying.”

“And I found this at the gift shop.” He tosses a card at you like a frisbee. You open the envelope to see a cartoon cow on the front, black and white and wearing a huge copper bell and a party hat. Inside is printed: May your graduation be legenDAIRY! Aegon has crossed it out and written instead I thought this was blank…congrats on the new calf! followed by his illegible scribble of a signature.

“A cow,” you say, smiling despite yourself. “Because I’m Io.”

“You’ve got about a million of those pouring in from all over the country. Congratulations cards, get well soon cards, we really hope your husband gets elected so we aren’t consumed by nuclear Armageddon cards. And then Richard Nixon sent a pipe bomb.”

You set Aegon’s card on your nightstand, half-open so it will stay standing upright. Then you drink the apple juice from the tray the nurses left for you. “Aemond’s not here yet?”

“Uh, no, not yet,” Aegon says vaguely, kicking his feet up on the ottoman. He’s been shopping for himself too. He’s wearing a denim jacket over a black The Kinks t-shirt, ripped jeans, moccasins. He uses the remote to turn on the television: The Dating Game. “So, what did you study in college? You went to Manhattanville, right?”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “You really don’t listen when I talk, do you?”

“I try not to.”

“Yes, I went to Manhattanville. And I studied math.”

“No way. You didn’t major in math.”

“Women can’t do math?” you tease. “That’s sexist.”

“I didn’t say women can’t do math. I’m saying there’s no way your parents sent you to a housewife factory like Manhattanville College of the Sacred Heart to get a math degree.”

“They didn’t, which is why my bachelor’s is in math education. So half-math, half-kid stuff. Makes it a little more…domestic.”

“Cool. Teach me math.”

“What, really?”

“Yeah. Really.” He digs around in the pockets of his jeans until he finds a receipt, then locates a pen in the nightstand drawer. He hands both to you and then stands so he can watch over your shoulder as you work. You can smell him: cigarette smoke, rum, the cool grey rain that is falling outside. It drips off his hair, carelessly slicked back from his face.

“What’s something you don’t know how to do?” you ask, expecting to get an answer like exponents or calculating the volume of a pyramid.

“Uh. Long division.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Going all the way back to 4th grade. Alright then.” You begin writing. “So let’s take a large number—this year, 1968—and divide it by…hm…how many kids you have. So five.”

Aegon whistles. “Five kids. Goddamn.”

“Yes, and you probably couldn’t name them, but there are indeed five. Trust me, I’ve counted.”

“Okay, this is the part I don’t get. Five goes into 19 almost four times. But there’s no way to say almost four.”

“There certainly is not. Five goes into 19 three times, so we put a three up top and then subtract 15 from 19. We get four, drop down the six from 1968, and now we’re dividing 46 by five.”

“Nine.”

“Right. Five times nine is 45. So the nine goes up top and we subtract 45 from 46.”

“45 is basically 46. Let’s call it a day. Close enough.”

“No,” you insist. “We get one, then drop down the eight from 1968, which makes 18.”

“And five goes into 18 three times.”

“Where’s the three go?”

“Up top,” Aegon says, observing fixedly.

“And then we subtract…”

“15 from 18, which is three. So the answer is 393.3.”

“Wrong. Loser.”

“What! How am I wrong?!”

“You don’t just put the three after the decimal,” you say. “You drop down a zero—”

“A zero?! Where the fuck did a zero come from?”

“From the fact that 1968 is a whole number, so it’s actually 1968.0.”

“Oh.” Aegon blinks a few times. “Gotcha.”

“Add the zero after the three to get 30—”

“And 30 divided by five is six. So the answer is 393.6.”

“I am so proud. You are officially as smart as an average nine-year-old.”

He takes the receipt from you and studies it. “This was super enlightening.”

“You want to try calculus now?”

He cackles and sinks back into his plush salmon pink armchair, his miniature dominion in your hospital room kingdom. “You like teaching?”

“I love it,” you admit. “I had to do a semester of student teaching the spring before I graduated, and at first I was kind of petrified. But the kids are so hilarious and interesting and full of excitement about everything, and they’re sweet in totally unexpected ways. They’d chatter all through a lesson and make me want to jump out a five-story window, and then bring me some of their Easter candy. That’s when I realized they weren’t trying to torture me. They’re just kids.”

Aegon is meditative. “Yeah, kids are fun.”

“I wasn’t aware you had much interest in them.”

“No, I do.” And something about the way he says it makes you feel bad for taking the shot. He runs his fingers through his hair, perhaps debating how much he wants to share. “You know Viserys made us all do these little missions after college so we could learn about the real world, right?”

“Right.” Daeron spent his on lobster boats up in Maine, Helaena learned horticulture in France, Aemond helped register voters in Mississippi and Alabama. You can’t recall ever hearing about Aegon’s.

“I got sent to Yuma, Arizona to teach on the reservation there. When I stepped off the bus, I thought it was hell on earth. And then when my time was up I didn’t want to leave.”

“What did you teach?” And then you add: “Hopefully not math.”

“No, definitely not math,” he says, smiling but distant, remembering. “English. Books, poems, all that. But my favorite thing to do was take a song and break it down line by line, really get them curious about what the author was thinking. And then of course we’d all sing it together. I’d play guitar, they’d run around jumping on the furniture, it was a good time.”

“But you couldn’t stay.”

“No,” he sighs. “I had to come back here so I could get dragged kicking and screaming through law school and then married off.”

“And elected mayor of Trenton,” you say, trying to make him laugh. It works.

“Oh God, we are not talking about that. Most miserable two years of my life.”

“So far.”

“Yeah. If Aemond wins and makes me the attorney general, that might be worse.”

“Knock knock!” comes a cheerful trill from the doorway, and then Alicent and Mimi rush in. They descend upon your hospital bed, cooing and soothing, squeezing your hands and trying to smooth your untamed hair.

“What did it feel like?” Mimi is morbidly fascinated, swaying a little, eyes bleary with gin. “When they were digging around in there?”

“Well, obviously she was sedated, hon,” Aegon says, a bit impatiently. He and Mimi share a nod in greeting, no warmth, no depth. You wonder what it must be like for someone you spent so much time tangled up with to become a stranger.

“Oh, darling, I barely recognize you!” Alicent says. “You poor thing, you must be in such awful pain. I’ve never seen you like this before. Your face, your hair…”

Aegon gives her a quick, disapproving look and then lights a cigarette of the traditional variety. He puffs on it as he gazes at the window, like he’s counting the raindrops on the glass.

“I’m feeling a lot better now,” you assure Alicent.

Her eyes flick down to your belly, still swollen beneath your blankets. “Will it scar terribly, do you think?”

You shrug; you haven’t thought much about that part yet. “It’s a battle scar. Aemond gets them in the real world, I get them in here. Same war, different arenas.” You peek out into the hallway. “Is Aemond…is he with you…?”

“He wanted to be,” Alicent says, like it’s a consolation. “But, Washington, you know…the primary there is so close. So, so close. He kept saying that he and Humphrey were neck and neck, and they still are, I believe. Every vote counts, and he’s campaigning all over the Puget Sound.”

“He’s still in Washington?” Your voice is flat with disbelief, with disapproval.

“He wishes he could be here with you and the baby,” Alicent insists, stroking your hair. “I’m sure he’ll fly back as soon as he’s able. But he’s thinking of you so, so much. That’s why he let me and Mimi leave this morning.”

“Right,” you reply numbly. And then you remember what you’re supposed to say. “The election is important. It affects everyone, our son included. For the greater good, personal sacrifices are necessary.”

“We saw him,” Alicent tells you, radiant with joy. “Aristos Apollo.”

“So precious,” Mimi says. “But so small! And trapped in that hideous machine! We could only see him through those little round windows.”

Aegon casts her a violent glare. You are alarmed. “He’s not in an incubator?”

“They have him in a…what was it called, Mimi?” Alicent asks. Mimi has nothing useful to contribute. “A hyperbaric chamber, I think. To help him get more oxygen.”

“But he’s fine,” Aegon says firmly, giving his wife and mother a warning. “Didn’t the doctor say it was a precaution?”

“He did, he did,” Alicent promises you. “Yes, just a precaution, that’s what we were told. The doctor has been trying to reach Aemond, apparently, but since he landed in Washington, he’s never in one place for long…”

“We should buy gifts for the baby,” Mimi says excitedly. “Adorable hats and shirts and trousers. Although even the tiniest clothes might be too big for him right now.”

“Yes, gifts! We must shop for gifts. Oh, it’s all been such a whirlwind. We hurried off the plane to come straight here, love,” Alicent tells you. “Can Mimi and I get you something for dinner?”

“Sure, sure.” You are distracted, still thinking of Ari. “Anything is fine. Wherever you end up.”

“Would you like me to bring a priest to pray with you? Saint Nicholas Church is right around the corner.”

You smile. “That’s very kind, but I think I’d prefer some books.”

“Baby clothes, dinner, and books. We can do that. Can’t we, Mimi?”

“We absolutely can,” Mimi agrees with tipsy, girlish enthusiasm.

As an afterthought, Alicent says: “Aegon, have you been here all this time? You must be exhausted. We’re going to book a suite at the Plaza, there will be plenty of room for you too. We can drop you off there on our way to go shopping, if you’d like.”

“I’ll stay,” he says softly, watching the rain again.

Alicent’s brow furrows; her dark doe-like eyes are puzzled. “Alright, dear.” Then she and Mimi disappear into the hall.

“Is he really okay?” you ask Aegon when they’re gone.

“Yes. That’s exactly what the doctor told me, just a precaution. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“Aegon,” you say, and don’t continue until he meets your eyes. “Why are you still here?”

He lights a fresh cigarette. “I don’t think you should be alone.”

“I’m not alone anymore. Alicent visits me, Mimi visits me.”

“Yeah, but you feel like you have to put on a show for them. Play the perfect Targaryen wife with all that stoic, dignified, unshakable faith. You hate me, so there isn’t as much pressure.”

“I don’t hate you, Aegon.”

“Yes you do. You always have. You don’t have to be polite about it.”

“Well…I have valid reasons to hate you.”

He smiles, exhaling smoke. “Right.”

“And you hate me too.”

Now he shrugs, avoiding your gaze. “Everybody worships you, everybody thinks I’m a waste of chromosomes, is it really that hard to psychoanalyze?”

“No one worships me. They worship Aemond.”

“But you’re a package deal. Jack and Jackie, Franklin and Eleanor.”

You trace the lines in your palm with a fingertip, not knowing what to say. You’re so close to Aemond, so inseparable, and yet so vastly far. “Will you wheel me downstairs to see Ari after dinner?” It’s best to go at night when there are less staff around to try to stop you.

“Sure. You want a Mr. Misty?”

“Yeah. Lemon-lime.” That’s what he brought you last time, and it wasn’t bad for a cardboard cup of florescent green sugar water.

“Got it,” Aegon says, and leaves you alone.

You look at the phone on your nightstand. You’ve tried to call Aemond to no avail, though you spoke to Criston twice; on both occasions he said Aemond was in the middle of an interview. It’s understandable that you would have difficulty getting ahold of your husband while he’s off campaigning, leaping from town to town like an electric current. There’s nothing unusual about it at all. But Aemond could call you anytime he likes. You haven’t moved; he knows exactly where you are.

You keep staring at the phone. It doesn’t ring.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s night again, and you swim up from morphine-soft dreams into your hospital room, dark except for the flashing color of the television, low volume, NBC news. Aegon is curled up in the chair he’s claimed, snoring and half-covered with a cheap, pale blue hospital blanket. And it’s a strange feeling—a foreign language, a new religion—to realize that you’re relieved to see he’s still here, that there’s a comfort in it, a safety.

Suddenly, Aemond is on the television screen. You sit up in bed as gingerly as you can, leaning in, listening close. He’s rarely looked better: blue suit, prosthetic eye, rested and measured and sharp. He’s giving a speech at the Hotel Sorrento in Seattle, three hours behind the time you’re living in on the East Coast. Flanking him on the stage are Criston, Otto, Helaena, Fosco, the eight charming children. Five-year-old Cosmo keeps waving at the camera.

“Right now, my wife and newborn son are at Mount Sinai Hospital in New York City,” Aemond says, beaming, and the audience whistles and cheers. You should smile, but you can’t. He’s not supposed to be there. He’s supposed to be on his way home. “But tonight I’m here with all of you, fighting with everything I’m made of to win the great state of Washington. And I won’t leave until the job is done, because I know the greatest act of devotion that any of us can show our children is to ensure they grow up in a better America than the one we find ourselves in today…”

You look over at Aegon and see that his glassy eyes are open, watching the television just like you are. You don’t know how long he’s been awake. The two of you exchange a glance, and there is a silent, shared recognition of what won’t be said. You can’t criticize your husband. Aegon isn’t going to kick you while you’re down. You are grateful for this. It is a conviction he has only recently acquired.

Aegon pulls his blanket up to his chin and rolls over, turning away from you. You close your eyes and dream of being a child back in Tarpon Springs, mesmerized as you watch Greek sponge divers emerge from the bubbling depths in their suits of rubber armor.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s the afternoon of the 13th. The Washington State Democratic Convention is being held tonight, and so win or lose Aemond will be walking into Mount Sinai Hospital tomorrow. He has to, he doesn’t have a choice. He’ll have no excuse to be anywhere else, and journalists will be swarming at the entranceway like bull sharks in the Gulf of Mexico.

It’s raining again. You’re reading one of the books that Alicent brought you, Dr. Spock’s Baby and Child Care. You had been meaning to get a copy before you were consumed by Aemond’s campaign and then his near-assassination, his maiming, his fleeting brush with oblivion. Aegon is cross-legged in the salmon pink armchair and plucking lazily at his guitar, singing so low no one outside the room would be able to hear him. It’s a Rolling Stones song, slow and mournful.

“You don’t know what’s going on

You’ve been away for far too long

You can’t come back and think you are still mine.”

As you flip a page and raindrops patter gently against the window, you find yourself thinking how easy this is, your hair undone and your feet bare, no photos to take or lines to remember, no practiced smiles, no overwrought itineraries, only compassion that is quiet and small and real.

“Well, baby, baby, baby, you’re out of time

I said, baby, baby, baby, you’re out of time…”

Aegon abruptly stops playing, cutting off with a twang. You look up at him. He’s gazing back with eyes that are filling up his face, glistening with horror. You turn to find out what he’s seen. There’s a doctor standing in the doorway, but he’s not alone. There’s a Greek Orthodox priest with him.

“Mrs. Targaryen,” the doctor begins, then glances to the priest. The holy man—black robes, gold chains, clasping a komboskini like the one Aemond keeps in a box on his writing desk at Asteria, stained with his own blood—gives an encouraging nod. “We’ve tried to reach your husband. We’ve called his hotel in Tacoma several times, but the senator must be out campaigning, and…” Again, he looks to the priest. Aegon is setting his guitar on the floor, covering his mouth with his hands.

Ari. Too early, too fragile, too defenseless in a world full of wolves.

Your words come out in a whisper. “He’s gone, isn’t he?”

“We must remember, child,” the priest tells you, vague patronizing pity. “That the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away, but what is lost to us in this life is never truly gone. Those we love wait for us on the other side in paradise—”

“Please leave. I don’t want to talk to a priest. I don’t want to talk to anyone.”

I just gave birth to him. I just started to believe he was mine.

The doctor begins: “Ma’am, I’m so sorry to have to deliver this news—”

“I don’t want to talk to anyone, I want to be alone. So please leave,” you beg, your voice breaking. “I want to be alone. Please leave me alone.”

The doctor looks to Aegon. A man’s permission is sought. “Go,” Aegon manages, raspy and strangled, and the doctor obeys.

“God bless you and your husband, Mrs. Targaryen,” the priest says as he departs with a swift bow. You can’t reply. You’re biting back sobs as the tears begin to slither down your cheeks, scalding and furious, not just grief but the bottomless rage of Nemesis.

Aegon is watching you, not knowing what to do, not knowing what you need.

Aemond would want you to be stoic. Aemond would want you to have faith, forbearance, grace. “It is God’s will.”

“Hey.” Aegon reaches across the space between you, grabs your hand, holds it so tightly your bones ache. Still, you wouldn’t want him to let go. “You’re allowed to be fucked up about this. I am too.”

When your eyes drift to him, they are glaring and heartsick and poisonous. “Where’s Aemond?” Why isn’t he here?

Aegon sighs deeply and picks up the phone with his free hand. He spins the rotary dial with his index finger and then holds the handset to his ear. He waits as it rings. “Pantages Theater, Tacoma, Washington,” he tells the operator. A minute or more crawls by. “I need to speak to Senator Targaryen immediately. Yes, I know there’s a convention underway there, that’s why I’m calling you. Go get him.” More minutes, eternal, terrible beyond description. “What do you mean you can’t find him?!” Aegon snaps. “Okay, give me someone else. Anyone travelling with him. Criston Cole, Fosco Viviani, Otto Hightower, Helaena Targaryen. Hurry up. Let’s go.”

Outside the rain grows heavy and loud; it falls in sheets against the misty windows. In the distance, thunder growls.

“Hi, Criston, it’s me. He needs to come home now. Right now.”

Aegon closes his eyes. Criston must be arguing with him.

“No, you don’t understand,” Aegon says, forcing the words to leave his lips and ride the wires to the West Coast, to where the sun sets, to where the future is dawning. He’s still holding your hand. “Aemond doesn’t have a son anymore.”

[nocternalrandomness]

Beech VC-6A on display at the National Museum of the United States Air Force

The VC-6A was primarily used to transport President Johnson and his family between Bergstrom AFB, TX and the family ranch near Stonewall. The aircraft became informally known as the 'Lady Bird Special', a play on the childhood nickname "Lady Bird" of First Lady Claudia Johnson. This plane was retired to the Air Force Museum in September 1985 and is now on display in the Presidential Gallery

[harriswalz4usabybr]

Friday, August 30, 2024 - Tim Walz

Governor Tim Walz returns to his home state of Nebraska. Joined by Governor Laura Kelly in his travels. They are both looking forward to 6 days of campaigning throughout the midwest.

North Platte, NE Event Location: Bailey Yard Event Type: Listening Tour Event Time: 8:00 - 10:00 CT

Kearney, NE Event Location: University of Nebraska at Kearney Event Type: Get Out the Vote Event Time: 12:00 - 15:00 CT

Lincoln, NE Event Location: Lincoln Northwest High School Union Bank Stadium Event Type: High School Football Game Event Time: 19:00 - 22:00 CT

North Platte, NE The governors are going to Bailey Yard to meet with rail yard workers to discuss the importance of unions in protecting the working class. They are conducting listening sessions to hear about policies that hinder the work of rail yard workers.

Kearney, NE The governors are kicking off a Get Out the Vote campaign on Kearney's campaign to make sure the students are aware of their registration status and their options on how to vote in the state of Nebraska. Some university social media ambassadors will also be recruited during this stop.

Lincoln, NE Prior to the football game between Lincoln Northwest High School and Ralston High School, the governors will meet with the principals and coaches from both schools to have dinner and discuss local issues. Governor Walz will return to 'Coach Walz' tonight meeting with the underdog team at halftime to give them a speech about perseverance, Coach Walz will then meet with the other team at the conclusion of the team and provide a speech about celebrating your wins or learning from your loses—depending on the outcome of the game. Governor Kelly and Governor Walz will cheer for both teams from the stands. The Principals and Governors have teamed up for a friendly bet! The Principal of Ralston High and Governor Kelly are a team, while the Principal of Lincoln Northwest High and Governor Walz are the other team. Which ever team loses must wear the winning schools gear on the campaign trail the next day, or Monday for the principals.

~BR~

[klbmsw]

Superstar Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg goes viral for a knockout takedown of Donald Trump's collapsing presidential campaign.

This is one for the books…

"I think you were exactly right to describe it as distraction. The challenge of course is you have to say something if he attacks the service of military service members who earned the Medal of Honor," Buttigieg said to MSNBC's Joe Scarborough.

"If he, you know, goes to the National Associaton of Black Journalists and blurts out something racist, obviously you have to deal with that," said Buttigieg. "But you have to deal with that quickly and then come right back to our message."

"Because I do think this is a kind of strategy. You might ask why would a politician do things like that but you know going all the way back to the days of him denigrating the service of John McCain, it's very clear that he does this for a reason," he continued.

"It's a twofold reason," Buttigieg explained. "One, is he wants people talking about him. And then two, he wants people not talking about the difference between our agenda and his agenda especially when you look at Project 2025."

"It's an amazing thing that Project 2025 is kind of the scandal of the year for the Republicans, the thing that they have had to do the most damage control around," he went on.

"Because look at what Project 2025 is. It's just their policies. It's nothing but a write-up of what they plan to do and they really don't want the American people focused on how Trump is about tax cuts for the rich and we're trying to make sure we have a fairer tax code," said Buttigieg.

"Or Donald Trump demolished the right to choose in this country. Now, Kamala Harris will lead the work to restore that right to choose," he continued.

"Or any other issue from climate to gun safety to education. You name it. Where the American people strongly agree with us and strongly disagree with him," he went on. "They don't want us talking about that. They don't want us talking about his record, results that even if you go by the measures that conservatives tend to pay the most attention to — like crime rates — that was worse under Donald Trump."

"If you're one of those folks who thinks of the economy in terms of the stock market — you know there's a lot more to the economy than the stock market but to some people that's pretty much the same thing — the DOW and S&P were worse under Donald Trump than they were under Biden and Harris," said Buttigieg.

"Energy production! One of the things you hear Republicans talk the most about. Domestic energy production is higher under Biden and Harris than it was under Trump,” he continued. “He can't afford for us to be talking about that so every couple days he's going to blurt out something outrageous so that we're talking about that instead."

As usual, Buttigieg's analysis is incisive and spot-on. Trump has no popular policies to run on so he's resorting to cheap tricks and distractions.

Meanwhile, Kamala Harris and Tim Walz are offering a vision of a brighter future. Under their leadership, America will flourish and leave the fascist MAGA movement in

[feargender]

I think this perspective is mainly informed by living for the majority of my life in red states, where the touch of a democratic federal government was rarely ever felt, but here’s a tip:

We all need to stop relying on presidents to save us. I’m not saying don’t vote, I voted! I vote in every election, not just the presidential election. But look at it this way. Migrants were still being detained in border prisons along the Mexico-US border under Biden. Obama saw us through war in the Middle East. The Supreme Court overturned Roe v Wade under Biden. States have continued to restrict eligibility for Medicaid and other welfare programs. Many southern states have become essentially inhospitable to trans life. The wheel of fascism doesn’t stop turning just because someone wearing a blue tie is sitting at a fancy desk. I am not talking about whether or not it will be “worse” or “better”, whether the wheel turns slowly or quickly. I am talking about the fact that the United States government is inherently a destructive and oppressive system, and no one person can change that.

The communities we form to defend ourselves and each other from a fascist state cannot be based off of or beholden to who is in the Oval Office. Go to that pro-Palestine event, volunteer your time with local grassroots organizations that matter to you, show up to that school district meeting where they talk about transgender students. When the cops show up at your house, Kamala won’t help you. The neighbor who comes over in her pajamas and robe to back you up will. When you can’t afford your medications, and you’re ineligible for your state’s Medicaid, there is not a democratic president in that moment who will fix this for you. Maybe it’s on their docket, but for right now, you’re broke and need those meds. You’re better off knowing what phone number you need to call to have a public health worker scrounge up some vouchers and coupons for you.

If the public transportation system in your city sucks, go find out who is in charge of that and bother them about it. If you are worried about over policing in your community, find a local abolition group and see what they want to do about it. If there isn’t one, find another leftist organization and stir up interest. If you’re seeing a lot of homeless people on your way to work, find out what’s wrong with the shelters and if there’s anyone you can support who is trying to fix it.

I feel like a lot of people associate the term “mutual aid” with cashapp links. Or they think that hating the current political system is all you need to be a leftist. If you don’t connect with your community, online or in person, through one form of political action or many, you will never see the revolution you’re waiting for. You’ll never know that change, good or bad, is happening all around you if you only count it when it happens due to a new presidential administration. It’s ok to fret! I’m worried!! I’m worried about the presidency and Congress and the Supreme Court. But realistically, there’s not a ton most individuals can do about that. I cannot make my vote count toward the presidency from within my red state. But I can improve my local community by knowing what the propositions at the bottom of my ballot mean.

[foone]

So I've been reading up on the Dimensional Nexus Encyclopedia, and found some wild stuff in there I gotta infodump about.

First of all, did you know the name is wrong? It's not interdimensional at all! We're moving in space, not through different dimensions.

It turns out we're in one of those looping cosmologies where the whole universe just repeats if you go far enough. It's safely outside our normal light cone, so you'd never be able to tell normally, but that's what the Dimensional Nexus is for.

So the universe is the Prime Earth , and then if you go a couple hundred billion light years in any cardinal* direction, you'll find another Earth. But because of quantum effects, there's slight differences, and the farther from Prime Earth you get, the more slight differences compound on each other, and you end up with worlds that seem stranger and stranger.

And the "local group" is just the 258 Earth's closest to Prime (well, 257 + valentine) , as they're close enough to have humans on them. Past that, you get to dead worlds: there's an earth, it might have life on it, but there's no humans.

Most of these that have been surveyed have zero evidence of there ever having been humans on them, but there's a few that have human artifacts but no living humans. None of these seem to have died in recent memory, ie there's no nuclear winter planets, and the most recent one we see has humanity mostly dying out in the 3rd century PCE, and struggling along until the 11th century PCE when they finally go extinct. It's supposed (but unproven) that many of the artifactless dead worlds are just worlds where humanity (or the entire biosphere) died out so long ago that we can't find any surviving evidence of humanity, but they still did exist in some way.

Past them you get to Missing Worlds : there's no Earth there. You show up in the right position and there's just empty space. A few probes have been dropped in those worlds, and they have completely different solar systems (although one of them (loneluna) seems to have the same solar system, down to the moon still being in roughly the same orbit around the sun... But no Earth. That one is described by 9 out of 10 scientists as "creepy")

Anyway... So the Dimensional Nexus is run by the Prime universe but did you know they didn't discover the tech? It was actually the Bet world that first deployed multiversal travel tech. The Prime verse spotted it immediately and they ended up working together, because at the time Prime was researching the same stuff, they were just slightly behind. I've written about that contact before, in a world of friends.

Prime just ended up being the universe that set of the Dimensional Nexus. As we're always having to tell people, we're not the "space police", we're researchers. The primary goal of the Dimensional Nexus is to learn more about what universes exist and how things are going on them, because of the extreme risk of a war using this technology.

A properly equipped army could transport itself into your city. Sure you can use the DN tech to detect that invasion, but at that point it's already over, you've lost. They have commandos in the presidential mansion and soldiers occupying every street corner. Any attempted resistance would be bloody and short-lived.

So yeah, Prime was like "we gotta make sure there's not a Nazi Earth out there invading the multiverse". They teamed up with Bet and started the Dimensional Nexus to find out if they need to protect themselves and, if they do, how the fuck they do that.

The latter hasn't been promising. If we're not willing to take extreme measures like hiding off-earth and reshaping the planet to be a trap to travelers, about the only action you can take is "preemptive attack". You kill them before they have a chance to attack you. Like that old metaphor for interstellar war, it's hide and seek with missile launchers. As soon as you spot another 'verse with DN tech, you kill them before they kill you. Nasty warfare.

But the former has been promising. We've got no nazis worlds. The world's are all different in small to big ways, but none of them seem to be either:

1. Run by expansive fascist empires, or

2. on the verge of discovering DN tech

So the Dimensional Nexus is mainly watching and waiting and studying. We're trying to better understand how and why the different Earths are different, and we're keeping an eye on any scientists experimenting with doing a neutrino slingshot through neutron stars.

We also do a lot of death earth exploration these days. Up until '74 when valentine was discovered, we we're pretty sure there were only 257 worlds. valentine is in some kind of island of stability out in the dead worlds, and we don't know if that's because of the unique time shot going on, or if that's coincidental.

There is a bit of tendency for the current year on an Earth to be farther back from the Prime present, the further they are from Prime, but it's usually only a few decades at most, and even that wouldn't correctly describe valentine. They're in the 20s (ish: their timeline went chaotic so time tends to move sideways, not forward) but with how far out they are they should only be in like the 1980s.

Anyway the discovery of valentine changed things: we though there were no living worlds in the dead zone, turns out there's at least one, so now we gotta make sure there's not two. Thus all the exploring. We don't want to find out there's at least two worlds in the dead zone, valentine and jetpackhitler.

So yeah! Over the last 30 years since the Gravekeeper Mission started, we've cataloged about 78% of the dead worlds. We'll be done in another 10 years, and then the only worry is from something in the Missing Zone.

Oh for the record, your world (the reader) is 91verse. That's one of the middle earths (NO LOTR JOKES) where you're weird but not too weird. Like, you've still got dogs and English and capitalism, while the edgeworlds might not. (that time/distance thing is why it's still 2024 PCE for y'all, instead of 2118 PCE)

Also someone had asked about a previous post I made (indirectly. No computers in the Nexus, thanks to the temporal flux) how I knew some information: did I really go to Belgium and ask around until I found Ariana Grande on a farm with her husband?

No, of course not. I used our surveillance tech. One of the main things that's been done to watch for potential rivals in the DN tech arms race is build a lot of ways to spy on people in other universes. And specifically one major area of effort is doing cross-universe matching: you pick someone in one universe and find that identical person in other universes.

That way if there's some genius scientist in one world who has some neutrino-slingshot theories, we can quickly look them up in other universes to make sure they're not doing the same there. And it's very commonly misused by fools like me to see what a celebrity from this world is doing in others. It's always funny to look up the president or the best paid actor and find there's a universe where they instead are a kindergarten teacher.

It's a bit of a privacy invasion but the Dimensional Nexus is already the biggest privacy invasion in the multiverse (a term we still use despite it being wrong: there's only one universe!), and it's justified by those in charge that it's the only way to prevent an unwinnable DN war. We either invade everybody or we spy on everybody to make sure they don't invade everybody. Yeah. I'm just here for fieldwork, if you have a problem with it talk to the politicians who set up this thing.

Final fun fact: when the Dimension Nexus was set up, it was representatives of 5 earths: Prime, Bet, john1135, carshop, and blacksky. Because those are some of the first universes found, they're very similar... Right down to their leaders.

So there's 5 signatures on the declaration and THREE OF THEM are PM Thiers!

You should see the photo. It looks like a set of triplets setting up the worst boy band imaginable. (I can't sent the image with this post because of the no-computers thing)

* I do not have nearly enough time to explain what "cardinal" means in terms of multiversal geometry.