#Republicans are always finding new ways to fuck with the process

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

One more from (mostly) climate journalist David Roberts:

"I haven't written much about politics since the debate, mainly because I'm so overwhelmed by disgust & contempt toward this country's media & commentariat that it has rendered me inarticulate with rage. Twitter probably doesn't need more rage. I do just wanna make one point tho.

To be clear up front: I don't give one tiny hot fuck who the Dem nominee is. I truly don't. Biden's fine. Harris is fine. A warm puddle of vomit is fine. *There is no conceivable resolution to the nomination fight that could change the basic calculus of this race.*

Preventing a fascist takeover of the US is my top priority--as a journalist, as a voter, as a human. If it isn't yours too, you should feel bad about yourself. If you haven't made the stakes of this election clear to everyone within the sound of your voice, you should feel bad.

But I'm not gonna rant. [breathes deeply] Just gonna make my one point, which is this: the idea that that the process of jettisoning Biden & choosing someone else will go well -- will be *allowed* to go well -- is a deeply deranged fantasy.

The idea that Dems will do this & will end up feeling unified, that Harris will come out popular, that "the dynamics of the race will shift," all of that ... fucking deranged. Deranged in such a perfectly characteristic Dem way.

"This person/policy/slogan/approach has been irredeemably slimed by Republicans & a hostile media -- let's throw it overboard!" That's the Dem way. Always with this starry-eyed hope that they can reset, start over, get it right this time.

Just as one example -- other people have aggregated these -- there have been "calls" for every Dem nominee of the last 30 years to step aside. Dems practically delight in abandoning their own people, policies, & principles in response to bad-faith pressure. They f'ing love it.

But, as I've been saying for, oh, 20 years now, the situation is structural. The current situation is an outcome of a particular incentive structure & that structure will remain exactly the same if Harris takes over the ticket.

For centrists, journalists, pundits, *even Dem electeds*, the way you prove you are a Reasonable, Serious Person in DC is by shitting on Dems. For the left, the way you prove you are a true radical is by shitting on Dems. For the right ... well, obviously.

Everyone's professional incentives are to shit on Dems. Dwelling on Trump & his fascist movement -- however justified by the objective facts -- just doesn't bring that juice, doesn't get the clicks & the high-fives, doesn't feel brave & iconoclastic. It's just ... no fun.

So, say Biden stepped aside in favor of Harris tomorrow. How long until the vapid gossips we call political reporters find something wrong with her, some alleged flaw they just have to write 192 stories about? How long until the hopped-up mediocrities we call pundits ...

...find some "counter-intuitive" reason that the new Dem ticket is flawed after all? How long until the irredentist left gets over the temporary thrill of its new Harris memes & remembers that she's a cop & turns on her? How long before the ambient racism & misogyny in the US...

... lead center-leftists to conclude that, sure, they'd support a black woman, just not *this* black woman? In other words: how long before everyone reverts to their comfortable, familiar identity & narratives?

About 30 f'ing seconds, is my guess.

Dems uniting, feeling good, telling a clear story, receiving credit for their accomplishments--all of that is *impossible* in the current environment. It won't be allowed. Dems can punch themselves in the face all they want, abandon whoever they want, apologize all they want...

... they simply will not be allowed to turn the page & start fresh, because everyone's incentives remain the same. If they did that, elites, including media elites, would have no choice but to openly & frankly grapple with Trump & what he represents & they *don't want to*.

Everyone feels comfortable shitting on Dems -- it's just a cozy professional space. You get to feel brave & independent (just like all the replacement-level pundits around you) with zero risk.

Yes, it's abysmal, contemptible cowardice on a genuinely embarrassing scale ...

... but it is what it is & we should have no illusions that it will change with a change in the top of the ticket.

As @whstancil has been trying to tell you people (good god how he tries), the information environment is thoroughly corrupted.

@whstancil For some reason, left pundits are pathologically averse to acknowledging that fact. And so they grasp at these straws -- if we could just get rid of Biden, we could have a reasonable conversation! Yeah, sure. You absurd summer children.

@whstancil This election is not a choice between two individuals, it's a choice between worldviews, between futures. Do we want to continue down the path to multiethnic democracy or do we want to impose a white patriarchal Christian autocracy?

@whstancil At stake is the entire federal civil service. The machinery of state built since WWII. Freedom & dignity for millions. Yes, democracy itself. That's not an exaggeration. Yet this country's elites have utterly failed to convey those stakes to the populace. A *grotesque* failure.

You can not look at this extraordinary media freakout this last week and not psychologize, not see all kinds of displacement. They can't or won't be serious about Trump & so they are fucking *giddy* at having permission to scold Dems again. Their safe place.

Anyway, my point is just: none of this will change if Harris replaces Biden at the top of the ticket. The idea that the media -- with these soulless careerist court gossips in charge -- will allow it is just fantasy. They *need* Dems in disarray & so they will engineer it.

The US is right on the precipice of falling into bona fide fascism & *the vast majority of the voting public doesn't even know it*. That speaks to a deeply diseased information environment. Until Dems do something about that, all their self-flagellation will buy them nothing.

Not knowing what else to do, Dems shit on their own

(Rebecca Solnit)

[corporationsarepeople]

From the thread:

Preventing a fascist takeover of the US is my top priority--as a journalist, as a voter, as a human. If it isn't yours too, you should feel bad about yourself. If you haven't made the stakes of this election clear to everyone within the sound of your voice, you should feel bad.

But I'm not gonna rant. [breathes deeply] Just gonna make my one point, which is this: the idea that that the process of jettisoning Biden & choosing someone else will go well -- will be *allowed* to go well -- is a deeply deranged fantasy.

The idea that Dems will do this & will end up feeling unified, that Harris will come out popular, that "the dynamics of the race will shift," all of that ... fucking deranged. Deranged in such a perfectly characteristic Dem way.

"This person/policy/slogan/approach has been irredeemably slimed by Republicans & a hostile media -- let's throw it overboard!" That's the Dem way. Always with this starry-eyed hope that they can reset, start over, get it right this time.

Just as one example -- other people have aggregated these -- there have been "calls" for every Dem nominee of the last 30 years to step aside. Dems practically delight in abandoning their own people, policies, & principles in response to bad-faith pressure. They f'ing love it.

But, as I've been saying for, oh, 20 years now, the situation is structural. The current situation is an outcome of a particular incentive structure & that structure will remain exactly the same if Harris takes over the ticket.

For centrists, journalists, pundits, *even Dem electeds*, the way you prove you are a Reasonable, Serious Person in DC is by shitting on Dems. For the left, the way you prove you are a true radical is by shitting on Dems. For the right ... well, obviously.

Everyone's professional incentives are to shit on Dems. Dwelling on Trump & his fascist movement -- however justified by the objective facts -- just doesn't bring that juice, doesn't get the clicks & the high-fives, doesn't feel brave & iconoclastic. It's just ... no fun.

So, say Biden stepped aside in favor of Harris tomorrow. How long until the vapid gossips we call political reporters find something wrong with her, some alleged flaw they just have to write 192 stories about? How long until the hopped-up mediocrities we call pundits find some "counter-intuitive" reason that the new Dem ticket is flawed after all? How long until the irredentist left gets over the temporary thrill of its new Harris memes & remembers that she's a cop & turns on her? How long before the ambient racism & misogyny in the US lead center-leftists to conclude that, sure, they'd support a black woman, just not *this* black woman? In other words: how long before everyone reverts to their comfortable, familiar identity & narratives?

About 30 f'ing seconds, is my guess.

[greatwyrmgold]

I want to make it clear that I'm not shaming anyone for voting Democrat. I've always considered harm reduction a valid political goal, even when I debated about whether it's better to focus on that or trying to promote radical left-wing candidates.

Also, with that recent Supreme Court ruling declaring that the President can't be punished for anything illegal if the overwhelmingly conservative Supreme Court decides it's a valid official act, keeping Donald "Avoided direct culpability for the insurrection" Trump and his ilk out of office became a lot more important.

That said, I have absolutely zero faith that re-electing Biden is going to improve anything. For the past decade or so, the Democrats' response to Republicans doing whatever they like has been to—to paraphrase Ian Danskin—seize the moral high ground while the Republicans seize the Supreme Court.

They don't seem to have a plan for opposing reactionaries beyond "never lose an election," assuming they want to oppose reactionaries at all, an assumption not everyone is willing to make. And sure, there are worse strategies. Republicans can't do much without the White House, and the Democrats have only lost one presidential election since the Berlin Wall fell...if we go by the popular vote, anyways.

Bad news! Republicans have already taken enough offices to fuck with democracy. Even if we ignore how Republicans can sometimes obtain enough popular support to win the election fair and square, they are demonstrably capable of stacking the deck in their favor. This whole post started by bitching about how they seized the Supreme Court, for fuck's sake. And there's not much we can do about that! Even if all the conservatives on the bench dropped dead while Biden was in office, there's no reason to think that conservatives wouldn't fuck with the appointment process again.

Even if Biden wins the election—and if I was still a Christian I would be praying for that outcome with all the fervor I could muster—the Sword of Damocles is still hanging over our head. If nothing changes, Trump could win in 2028. Or someone worse than Trump. Or someone less bad than Trump, but bad in the same ways, and empowered by the Supreme Court's stamp of approval to do whatever it takes to shape the USA in his image. And why should I expect things to change? The writing has been on the wall since Trump's presidency, and it's had a spotlight on it since January 6th, 2021, and what has Biden done about it?

I don't like being a doomer, but it's hard to maintain any kind of hope for the future when the Supreme Court gave itself an Exonerate The President for Illegal Atrocities button it can spam as soon as a president it likes is in office. What would actually stop Trump from instituting a reign of terror to fuel his ego and greed? The conscience and progressive sentiments of the soldiers doing his bidding? There's no shortage of evidence that the US government can find enough soldiers obedient and callous enough to do any atrocities they want, plus some that they don't care about much one way or the other.

Just what the fuck can we do? Vote for blue no matter who? Fuck. I dunno about you, That strategy makes me blue. If just once we miss our cue, This whole country turns to poo.

[hazzabeeforlou]

Hi, I’m Toni.

Got a slew of new followers and I’ve been almost inactive the last half a year (at least) so wanted to do an update/intro so you know who I am LOL and so my long suffering fandom besties know what the fuck’s been going on (if anyone still cares rip sorry it’s been forever)

Currently writing this from my sick bed of ear cellulitis? That I got from wearing my mask? It would literally only happen to me. Had to go to urgent care and get a butt shot of antibiotics so it didn’t, you know, spread to my bloodstream :)

Anyways I say that to say that I probably got sick in the first place because I’m incredibly run down right now. The classical music world (im a professional musician) FINALLY opened up again, and to meet gig demands I only work my pandemic retail job once a week. I have been traveling the last four weekends in a ROW, which, due to my chronic pain (which has seen SOME improvement over the last year!!) makes me super duper exhausted and I have to admit tik tok has been getting most of my brain numbing time.

Life post-happy drugs has been tough. I’ve seen improvement in the areas I wanted to, physically, but mentally god. Drugs were nice. Anywho, I’ve done a ton of witchy/ancestral connecting/herbalist kinda things the last six months, and I now have an alter and a spiritual practice that has really brought me a lot of growth and meaning. It’s hard healing from your past when you’re still living IN it… and there’s no improvement with my parents. They’re still homophobic as hell and Republican as fuck, despite screaming matches. The threats of physical violence prevent me from confronting my dad any further. I’ve kind of given up hoping they will ever change.

It’s funny though, I would classify this year as the year I started to “feel” things, and of course that happened physically post the drugs, but also emotionally once I started to let myself FEEL emotions, god what a train wreck. Who knew humans could CRY so much? That emotional revelation led to the probably overdue realization that I’m likely Autistic and high masking, and have been suffering from that classic 30’s wall that “gifted girl high masking autistic children” eventually hit wherein they are no longer able to just push through and ignore. That’s been tough.

Writing has always been how I process and understand emotions, and now that I’ve started to actually FEEL them, it hasn’t become as essential to my functioning as it had been the last six or so years. I miss it, and I plan on finishing all my projects I left behind… as I’ve said many time The Garden part 3 IS coming I promise lol. But! Hopefully. And no promises. But I have the most delightful Christmas fic tucked into my head that I would love to publish this year, if I can find the time to get it on paper.

Okay as for fandom… I did a “growth thing” earlier this year and deleted all the bbygate stuff I’d been saving for the inevitable end. I just can’t anymore. All the photoshop, the blatant exploitation of it all… yeah I think the best option is just not to care. If they’re gonna drag this out for the rest of my life then I’m going to ignore the shit out of it. Speaking of ignoring, I also noped out of the H and O nonsense. God. What a MESS. I liked HH, truly, but the fave for me was Matilda. To be honest with you all, I listened until I grew naturally full of the album and I moved on with my life, it wasn’t world changing to me the way FL was. HOWEVER. FITF? Lord save me i didn’t even know it was coming out and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I’m fucking obsessed. I’m planning a MP. I genuinely think it’s Louis’ finest work and I can’t get enough of it. Every time I listen I like it MORE. I theorize it’s going to be a slow blooming album that smacks everyone’s expectations in the face. I’m so fucking proud of Louis. I bawled real ugly tears at Common People.

And lastly as always, I believe the boys were in love but I make no claims about their lives now. I enjoy the hints and speculation and love larrying along, but I think they’ve established these personas that are bulletproof to fan speculation these days, and I feel that’s how they truly want it. And that’s cool, won’t stop me from writing Larry because it was the truest gayest baby Star crossed lovers story out there and still makes the best fan fic.

Apologies for the novel but nice to meet you if you’re new HI I’M TRYING TO BE BACK to my old chums, and feel free as always to talk to me, my ask box is always open ❤️

[therealvinelle]

I've always wondered this, but what do you think the Cullen's political viewpoints would be, given their individual backgrounds? if vampires don't change after they turn, then surely they would all be extremely racist (especially Jasper). would this not come up at some point? they aren't like the Volturi because the Volturi are too old to care, but the Cullens are young enough that they have been brought up with opinions on stuff like sexism, racism, homophobia and the like.

Oh fuck.

You get an early answer because otherwise I'll just chicken out and delete this one, pretend I never saw it.

UMMM.

Since I'm guessing you meant American political viewpoints, we need a disclaimer. I am not American, and not too knowledgeable about your politics. Not just in the sense that I don't follow the day-to-day drama, but as I am not an American citizen there are several things I don't know, can't know because I've never lived in your country and therefore can't know what the effects of living in a country ruled by American policies is like. What I do know is based off of the news in the foreign section, social media (by which I mean tumblr posts), and Trevor Noah's Daily Show.

I am an outsider looking in.

Which is really rather appropriate, since the Cullens are too.

The Cullens go to high school and college, Carlisle works, they pay taxes, they own real estate, and submerge themselves in American culture. Esme, Edward, Rosalie, Emmett, and Bella are young enough that this is in many ways their world, and apart from timeouts they've more or less spent their entire lives, human and vampire, integrated into American society.

Not fully integrated, mind you, they do what they need to to fit in and get to school or, in Carlisle’s case, to work. They go no further. No extra-curriculars for the kids, no book clubs for Esme, no game nights for Carlisle. They walk parallel to humans, not among us.

In addition to this they're obscenely rich, which puts them another thousand miles from the experiences of your average American. They won't deal with the health system, which means healthcare is a non-issue, they're not going to need welfare or other social programs, unemployment is another non-issue. Name your issue, and the Cullens don't have personal stake in it. Even the climate crisis won't be a problem for them the way it will for us.

What I'm trying to say is, American political issues are a concept to them, not a lived reality. Just like they are for me. So hey, you made a great choice of blog to ask.

I'll also add here that you say the Volturi are too old to care, and I agree- from an ancient's point of view, racism is a matter of "which ethnicity are we hating today?", and it all looks rather arbitrary after a while. Same with every other issue - after a while it all just blends together into "what are the humans fighting over today? Which Christian denomination is the correct one? Huh. Good for them, I guess."

I can't put it any better than this post did, really. The Volturi are real people, humans are nerds and tumblr having Loki discourse. Aro thinks it's delightful and knows entirely too much about Watergate (and let's be real, Loki discourse as well), but the point I wanted to get at is that politics really don't matter to vampires.

And I don't think they matter to the Cullens either.

So, moving on to the next point while regretting I didn't put headlines in this post, I'll just state that I don't think vampires' minds are frozen. Their brains are unable to develop further, and they can never forget anything, but... well, this isn't the post for that, but in order for this to be true of vampires they would barely be sentient. They would not be able to process new impressions, to learn new things, nor to have an independent thought process. Yes, we see vampires in-universe (namely, Edward, who romanticizes himself and vampires) believe they're frozen and can never change, but there is no indication that this is a widespread belief, or even true. Quite the contrary - Carlisle went from a preacher's son who wanted to burn all the demons to living in Demon Capital for decades and then becoming a doctor and making a whole family of demons. Clearly, the guy has had a change in attitude over the years. Jasper, in his years as a newborn army general, slowly grew disenchanted with his life and developed depression. James initially meant to kill Victoria and hunted her across the earth, then became fascinated and changed his mind about it.

Had these people been incapable of change, Carlisle would still be hating demons, Jasper would be in Maria's army, and James would still be hunting Victoria.

It goes to follow, then, that they are able to adapt to new things.

The question is, would they?

Here I finally answer your question.

So, we have these people who don't really have any kind of stake in politics, who keep up to date all the same (or are forcibly kept up to date because high school) and are generally opinionated people.

Where do they then fall, politically?

(And this is where you might want to stop reading, anon, because I'm about to eviscerate these people.)

Alice votes for whoever's gonna win. She also makes a fortune off of betting each election. Trump's 1 to 10 victory in 2016 was a great day to be Alice. MAGA!

The actual policies involved are completely irrelevant, she does this because it's fun. Election means she gets to throw parties. Color coded parties for the Republican and Democratic primaries, and US-themed parties for Election Night! (Foreigner moment right here: I at first wrote "Election wake" before realizing that's not what y'all murricans call it.)

Alice loves politics. Doesn't know the issues, but she sure loves politics.

Bella votes Democrat. She actually knows about the issues, and cares about them. This girl is a Democrat through and through.

Carlisle doesn't vote. I can't imagine it feels right. Outside of faked papers he's not a US citizen, this is meddling in human affairs that he knows don't concern him.

More, this guy has never lived in a democracy.

In life, Carlisle lived under an absolute monarchy that, upon civil war, became an absolute theocracy. From there he learned that vampires live under a total dictatorship.

For the first 150 years of his life, democracy was that funky thing the Athenians did in history books thousands of years ago, no more relevant to him than the Ancient Egyptian monarchy is to me. Then the Americans, and later other European countries started doing this.

Good for them.

There's this mistake often made by those who view history from a... for lack of a better term, a solipsistic standpoint. A belief that the present day is the culmination of all of history. “My society is the best society, the most reasonable society; all the others had it backwards. Thank god we’re living in this enlightened age!”

The faith in our current system of government is one such belief. We (pardon me if this doesn’t apply to everybody reading this post) have grown up in democracies, being told this is the ultimate form of rule, and perhaps that is true - but remember the kings who have told their subjects they had were divine and the best possible ruler based on that. Remember also that most modern democracies haven’t actually been democracies for very long at all, America is the longest standing at some 230 years (not long at all in the grand scope of things) and they have a fracturing two-party system to show for it.

Every society, ever, has been told they’re the greatest, and their system of government the most just. Democracy is only the latest hit.

This is relevant to Carlisle because he’s immortal and decidedly not modern. Democracy has not been installed in him the way it was the rest of the Cullens, Jasper included. To him- well, it’s just not his world. He has no stakes in our human politics, and as he is older than every current democracy and has seen quite a few of them fall, he’s not going to internalize the democratic form of rule the way a modern human has.

I think the concept of voting is foreign to him.

It requires a level of participation in human society that he’s simply not at. He does the bare minimum to appear human so he do the work he loves, but nothing more, and I find that telling.

As it is I think he'd be iffy about his family doing it. He won’t stop them, but in voting they’re... well it’s kind of cheating. They’re not really citizens, none of this will affect them, and by voting they’re drowning out the votes of real human voters. He does not approve.

Edward votes Democrat. He's... well he’s the kind of guy who will oil a girl’s bedroom window so he can more easily watch her sleep without being discovered, justifying it to himself as being okay because if she were to tell him to get lost he’d stop immediately. Same guy is so sure that he’d leave and never return again if she wanted him to, except this is the man who returned to Forks to hang around his singer, knowing there was a significant chance he might kill her. To say nothing of his Madonna/Whore complex, or of the fact that he tried to pimp out his wife twice, and was willing to forcibly abort her child.

This guy is very much in love with chivalry, with being an enlightened and feminist man who supports and respects women, while not understanding the entire point of feminism, which is female liberation.

He votes Democrat because he’s such an enlightened feminist who cares about women’s rights.

Emmett doesn’t care to vote, but if he has to he votes Republican. The guy is from the 1930′s, and has major would-be-the-uncle-who-cracks-racist-jokes-if-he-was-older vibes.

Esme doesn’t vote, that would require getting out of the house.

More, I just... can’t see it. I can’t see her being one to read up on politics and The Issues, period, but if she has to then I doubt she’d be able to decide.

Jasper doesn’t vote. Alice can have her fun, he does not care.

There’s also the whole can of worms regarding the last time he went to bat for American politics.

I imagine he stays out of this.

Renesmée doesn't vote. She has no stock in the human affairs. Who would she vote for, on what grounds? When Bella tries to pull her to the urns, she points out that she's three years old.

Rosalie, guys, I’m sorry, but that girl is definitely gonna vote Republican. Perhaps not right now as it’s become the Trump party of insanity, but the Mitt Romney type of Republicans? Oh yes.

And for the record, yes I imagine she does vote. To step back from politics would be another way she was relinquishing her humanity, and that’s not allowed to happen. So, yes, she goes to the urns, less for the sake of the politics involved and more because like this, she’s still a part of society in some way.

Now, onto why I think she’s Republican, I think it’s both fiscal and social.

This girl was the daughter of a banker who somehow profited off of the Depression, and who then became part of a family with no material needs that would soon become billionaires thanks to Alice. Poverty to Rosalie is a non-issue, as it is I imagine she views it as a much lesser issue than what she’s had to deal with. The humans can pull themselves up by their bootstraps, Rosalie’s infertility is forever.

Rosalie’s empathy is strongest when she’s able to project onto others, and she won’t be able to project onto the less fortunate at all.

Then there’s the fact that the Republican party is all about traditional family values, and pro-life.

Rosalie, a woman from the 1930′s who idolizes her human life and who‘d love nothing more than to get to live out this fantasy, is down for that. And as of Breaking Dawn she’s vocally pro-life, so there’s that.

This all being said I don’t think Rosalie cares to sit down and fully understand these politics she’s voting for, the possible impact they’ll have- that’s not important. What’s important is what voting does for her.

TL;DR: I bet anon regrets asking.

[antihumanism]

When I type everything out as a single run-on sentence I want you to imagine me cornering you off-guard in a crowded room, my empty brown cow eyes staring straight at you and reflecting you--nopony home here, she checked out and hopped away forever ago on the toxic chemical trains and clacking cattle cars years ago--and just, for no reason, I’m here and you’re there pocketed in the corner of a crowded room, and I’m channeling my alternate history past-self who was a preacher that got kicked out of the church for delivering sermons about the impossibility of sin and just ran off to Point Sur with my harem of distractions since I could never stop blessing my congregation saying “Go forth and know that you cannot sin, in the beautiful eyes of God and in my beautiful eyes there can be no wrong or evil” which backfired on me when they started setting fires and it all went to Hell, but I’ve won out over them because the world honored my wishes when I sighed “I should like to start again,” and so I’m here with you and you’re hear with me and I’m saying some insane shit like: “Looking back on Emily’s early works it is easy to see where her later reactionary turn comes from, because, from the start, Alfred Alfer was a story about the fear of castration, I mean, the first video was literally about Alfred getting neutered and escaping into a violent fantasy where he is loved and praised for his violence and the ‘punchline’ establishes the general theme of ‘reality by despair,’ which is to say that Alfred’s clearly dissociative episode is ‘verified’ by his destruction and it is this self-destruction that establishes ‘reality,’ like ‘pinch me i might be dreaming,’ but the pinch is violent and unfair self-destruction as hope is still ripped away, but hope remains, because it is a hope to die rather than be changed by the world, and this theme remains throughout her most famous work (the Alfred’s Playhouse trilogy which cements in canon the jokes of her previous Rise of Alfred cartoon) where Alfred is possessed by the spirits of Stalin and Hitler--a false equivalency made by the authoritarians that have passed for liberals for years--in Rise of Alfred, one would be remiss not to mention the phallic imagery in both the title and the video itself, Alfred is cut loose upon the world by the absence of a Near God or little other by the orders of a Distant God or big Other (in this video played by a droning and irrelevant corporate figure that can offer nothing more than a wall without lead paint that one can lick), and this is the essence of reactionary thought, the idea of a big Other who is totally incompetent yet all powerful and somehow worth respecting and suffering for (King Henry II saying ‘will no one rid me of this troublesome priest’ or the departed Daiymo of the 47 Ronin), the reactionary sees the big Other as a master who can only set the dogs off the chain, the police chief who needs to get out of the way so McBain or Dirty Harry or Paul Kersey (especially in Death Wish III) can do what needs to be done and purge away all the filth and make the world right again (no different than Rambo--even the first movie, which for all of it’s goods part still is  reactionary propaganda bullshit pushing the fascist lies about a ‘fifth column’ that was rude to poor little meow meow war criminals--or modern day fantasies about nuking all of MENA until it glows green (fantasies delivered to raucous applause at Republican presidential conventions); the reactionary is perpetually trapped in this fantasy of destroying the world and escaping into the void of space, freed of the ground where the riff-raff are so they don’t have to negotiate life with their neighbors, and this is true, yes, even of people who spout bullshit about Fully Automated Luxury Communism who only want the right to consume as much as possible free of guilt--a condition they think is inflicting upon them by the big Other--as the Champagne of Shame Socialists of the 60s), and the righting of the world for the reactionary is just that, that the world must be Righted and the reactionary must be loved for all of their violence and because of their violence, for the reactionary finds themselves ever needing new excuses as they open new fronts in their fake, phony Culture War, and that is all they need (excuses), which is why Emily is so obsessed with justifying her edgy shit based on some Trauma (which is handy excuse to do Anything, even Things that Cannot Be Excused like war or self-harm or wanting to be seen), and so here you should already be able to hear so much madness, so many plaintive cries, all aligning around the same point (the trannies in the ‘wrong’ bathroom, the refugees in the ‘wrong’ country, the people in the ‘wrong’ neighborhood, the Jewish Question, etc), and, anyway, so in Rise of Alfred, Emily’s OC directly addresses the audience and tells them that they must love him/her--the castrated bitch desperate to be let off the leash--and in Alfred’s Playhouse she/he simultaneously affirms and denies the nature of a trauma that justifies everything (one is constantly reminded of The Act of Killing where one of the mass murderers imagines how, depending on the editing of the final film, he could be either a woobie or a war criminal) as the Trauma is simultaneously a joke--’sodomized with a popsicle!’--and the alleged real event that motivates her self-mutilation as we’re expected to believe Emily is processing something, but what is she is processing, hmmmm, isn’t that the true spice,” I rail and rave against your poor ear drums as my empty, dead cow’s eyes capture your entire body and reflect it back at you and the ice cubes in my drink pop and shatter and dissolve and as my fist clenches tighter and tighter around the glass containing them and I continue: she’s processing a fear of castration, which is shown clearly in Alfred’s Playhouse where Alfred’s “sodomy” is demonstrated by the sight of his crotch covered in blood (a scene that will be repeated in The Alfred Alfer Movie) but “what is castration,” one might ask, and one can respond “it is the removal of power by the Father,” and this is how we wrap back around to our root in the nature of Emily the Reactionary who believes herself to be deprived of the power she holds by The Bolshevik Jew that has inserted itself between her and the Father and this is the cause of the big Other’s ineffectiveness, and this is also the core of the reactionary as a whole, the reactionary doesn’t want a daddy to control them, but a Master to set them off the chain because they hate the Father who has castrated them, this is the nature of the mumbling corporate manager in Rise of Alfred, but it is also the nature of Alfred herself--and now you may ask if Emily is trans and the answer is I literally couldn’t fucking care less about any question left forever unanswered on God’s Green Earth and you shouldn’t care either--but Alfred the Castrated is also the Father/Mother of Alfred the Dictator, the murderous inner-self that is immune to consequences of the onrushing future (The Alfred Alfer Movie) but not immune to the justifications of the imagined past (Alfred’s Playhouse trilogy), and therefore free to inflict whatever violence that Emily the Reactionary desires, and it is in pursuit of this freedom that the reactionaries set off in the name of New Sincerity (two things to be noted here: (1) the Death of Irony was proclaimed at the birth of the 21st century police state and the new Forever War with all of its genocidal objectives, that is to say, 9/11, and (2) the broken necked coward who complained of American Psycho that it’s author provided no easy outs for easy survival was the one who offed himself while Bateman’s father still lives) and the Talking Cure (i miss who we used to be), and at this you should see me slugging back the whole lukewarm glass in between two syllables and continuing on without pause (as if this dog still has legs on which to receive them in any case), “Emily, like Alex Jones, is so desperate for an excuse because neither of them can accept that they have to be the one that pulls the trigger, like all liars they don’t understand that they have to define reality by action, the answer to what one might do is found in the difference between the types of irony, one type is constantly desperate for excuses (such as the broken necked coward found one day) for violence, and the other irony, the true spice, is the irony that releases from excuses into violence and energy, one must seek not to know or endure but to inflict, knowing that this inflicting was always inevitable, no searching for justifications, instead the answer is to realize that there was never a chain there connecting you to the Master or the present to the past, and the Father/Mother never had the power of castration (the past, after all, is a foreign country bombed and blasted to ruins already and better forgotten), and you can just be fucked up and terrible and do whatever amuses you right now without needing an excuse, and to the extent that anyone should, one should, because that is what fascism needs, fascism needs the need for an excuse and that is the irony of fascism--where the falling angel (the superego) meets the rising ape (the id) in an ego of ultimate violence which seeks only release from both of its creations in an instinctually and totally misunderstood caricature of dialectics--which opposes its opposite irony (the irony without fascism which is the id’s violence against purpose and reason rising free of anything else to obstruct it), and if you let go of that, if you just, ya know, if you just, you just have to cut loose and go and no one can stop you until it is too late, because there’s no Jew sitting over your shoulder to justify everything in terms of opposition or support, not even The Nazarene is real, but do you understand that you’ve always been free to just go? You’re free to go. You’ve been free to go all this time. You never needed permission for this or anything else. You’ve been free to go all this time. You’re free to go. A whole day off. Just mind the mo(u)rning and get on with it.”

[sweet-symphony0]

Despair

  Hey hey, guess who’s back and finally had time to write! Happy Twin Tuesday! This one is...current, I’ll say. That’s all I’m going to say.

Summary: 01/06/2021. Rami and Sami can’t believe their eyes. They cope the only way they know how.

 Tags: @the-real-ramimalekpeen @xmxisxforxmaybe @killerqueengigi @txmel @laminy @ramimedley @rathernotmyname @ramilicious @sherlollydramoine @edteche2 @hah0106

---

Sami’s phone was ringing, he could hear it vibrating in his bag from he stood next to his desk, surveying his thirty students, their attention quickly diminishing. He ignored it, even as it rang a second time. 

“Alright guys-hey, don’t pack up yet, this is important-reading for tonight is chapter 12, your essays on Slaughterhouse Five are due Friday, so don’t forget.” There were groans heard from around the room, and Sami continued, “and no, I won’t be accepting any late papers; I gave you a month and a half for this. That’s more than generous, get it done.”

There were more groans and Sami smirked inwardly to himself as the bell rang and students began shuffling out the door, with a few calls of “see ya, Mr. Malek!” and Sami smiled. “Yeah, have a good day guys. Nice work today.”

When the last student was out the door, Sami took a moment to himself, glad he now had a free period before his next class. He cleared his throat, and began erasing the notes from the smartboard in preparation for the next round, when his phone vibrated and he remembered someone was trying to reach him, idly wondering what was so important that someone would call him at work.

Skimming his notifications, he frowned. Three texts from Rami, a missed call from him, and two texts from friends which he ignored for the time being, instead reading Rami’s messages:

“I know you’re at work, but you need to see this.” and underneath, in a separate message, a link to a CNN article that read “Rioters break windows and breach US Capitol.”

Sami stared, bewildered, and then read the third message Rami had sent.

“Turn on the news.”

Sami reread the headline, clicking the link Rami had sent, and he skimmed the article, his mind reeling.

“What the fuck...?”

Rami’s response was instant:

“You need to turn on the fucking news. Now.”

Sami wasted no time in rushing to the staff room, thanking his stars he had a break for the next forty minutes. It didn’t surprise him that nearly a quarter of the staff were already there, and he slipped inside, spotting a few of his colleagues from the English department. Even though the second bell had rung, no one in the room bothered to move, their eyes transfixed on the news coverage blaring from the TV. And as Sami turned his gaze to watch too, he felt his stomach sink in dread.

There were a cacophony of murmurs around the room, Sami catching tidbits here and there.

“What are we going to do?”

“There’s nothing we can do right now-”

“No, we can’t just-someone has to explain to the kids-”

“No, they’ll find out soon enough, we keep teaching like normal-”

“This is a high school,” one of Sami’s friends in the history department finally sighed tiredly. “You really think those kids don’t know by now? They have social media and cell phones. They know. And we can go about like usual, but this is something we’re all going to be talking about tomorrow.”

Sami’s eyes drifted back to the television, watching intently as he drowned everyone else out. They were inside the building now, hoards of them, a never ending sight. Sami watched with wide, disbelieving eyes, horrified as people scaled the building walls, smashed through windows, and he couldn’t help but think frantically: why wasn’t anyone doing anything?

He snorted to himself. Right. You know why.

He didn’t think he’d be able to go back to work after this. Slowly, one by one, his colleagues filtered out as most of them had classes to attend to that period and couldn’t push being late anymore. Once he was alone, Sami sank into one of the chairs, eyes glued to the newscast, feeling frozen from what he seeing.

He felt sick.

He texted Rami back and forth, a steady stream of furious conversation, not even realizing when the bell rang. Scrambling out of his seat, he rushed back to his room, just in time for when kids started filing in.

“Hi guys,” he pasted a smile on his face. “Settle down, and we’ll get started.”

He taught on autopilot, the forty minutes going by without him realizing, and before he knew it, kids were standing up and he was calling out the same thing from before: “read chapter twelve tonight, your essays are due Friday...”

Whatever previous intentions Sami had about sticking around the rest of the school day to get his work done, he threw right out the window. Racing home, he dug through his fridge for a beer, and then after better judgement, grabbed another, before he turned his TV on and called Rami.

Sami didn’t even let him say hi. “Are you safe?”

“Yeah,” Rami nodded. He was moving through his apartment, Sami could see, presumably to get to a quieter spot, and his gaze was off to the side, watching something. “I’m fine. Nothing here has happened yet, thankfully.”

“Listen,” Sami said urgently. “Stay inside okay? Don’t go out today if you don’t have to. You don’t-no one knows what will happen. Please.”

“I’m not moving,” Rami said. “I can’t-fucking after this, I can’t concentrate. I’m supposed to be rehearsing lines for tomorrow but fuck that. This is insane.”

Sami watched as the mob of people made their way inside the Rotunda, and he sank onto the couch. Then a few minutes later, they were inside the Senate chamber, pushing things around, and when he changed the channel to find another possible view, there was a photo up of a man carrying a confederate flag.

“Oh my fucking god.”

Rami’s voice was low. “I know. It gets worse.”

“Oh no, don’t say that.”

“They-they took down the American flag,” Rami said with barely restrained rage. “And replaced it. With a fucking Trump flag.”

Sami choked. “You’re not serious.”

“I wish I weren’t. And our president,” Rami scoffed. “is encouraging it. Fucking-” he stopped short, thinking for a moment on whether or not to complete what he wanted to say, before he shook his head in exasperation. “It’s all so exhausting.”

“That’s unconstitutional,” Sami murmured, flipping channels again, and he dropped his beer when he saw the constructed noose on the other side of the Capitol, staining the carpet, but he didn’t care. “Who is that for?! What the fuck!”

“What? What am I missing?”

Sami didn’t answer, still rooted on the spot, watching as officers finally brought out tear gas. “Fuck...is there any update on the Senators?”

“Not that I can tell. Though they are saying a few Republican ones are agreeing with this bullshit.”

Suddenly everything clicked, and Sami realized why today, of all days, this was happening. As he watched the coverage of Trump’s tweet, the rally earlier that morning, he idly wondered how much damage had already been caused, and whatever else he’d missed.

“I’m not drunk enough for this,” he sighed, and Rami chuckled flatly.

“I’ve had a bottle of wine open for the last hour. Wish you were here to join me.”

“Well,” Sami stood up, grimacing at the mess he’d made from the spilled beer. “I can join you from afar. What are you drinking?” Rami gave him the name of a Cabernet they were both fond of, and Sami grinned triumphantly when he found a spare bottle in the back of his wine cooler. Propping his phone up on the counter against the block of chopping knives, he made quick work in opening and pouring himself a generous glass. “Cheers, man.”

“Cheers. What are we cheers-ing to?”

Sami hummed, licking the bit of wine that had dripped down his finger. “To the compete and utter fuckery that has been...the six days of this new year.”

“That works,” Rami was silent for a moment, both of them lost in their thoughts, watching the news again. “You know, I...obviously after the last four years there’s been a lot of unrest and contempt. But to this extent, for thousands of people to..to believe-”

“Say an election is rigged and then stop the process in almost every way they can?” Sami took a generous sip of his wine. “To destroy the Capitol? Yeah. I know.”

“Unbelievable,” Rami said succinctly, and after a moment: “I should’ve stayed in London.”

“They’re not much better,” Sami snickered, glancing at his twin. “Besides, London doesn’t have me.”

Rami laughed. “You think I plan my life around you?”

“What, you mean you don’t? I’m shocked. That hurts.”

“Definitely not,” Rami smirked and Sami laughed.

“Alright hot shot, don’t let that hair gel go to your brain too. There’s enough on your head already.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Rami was grinning, and Sami grinned back.

“Just trying to keep you humble, you know. I don’t give a shit if you have a shiny gold toy now.”

“Wow,” Rami muttered. “You wish your hair looked as good.”

“A greasy mess? Yeah, no thanks.”

Rami laughed again, and Sami grinned, pleased at the fact, sipping his wine again as they turned back to the news. “Fuck, it really is a shit show isn’t it?”

“I’ve always said he would leave the White House, but he’ll burn it down with him as he goes.”

“Yeah,” Sami sighed, his anger boiling all over again. “Looks like it. I wish you were wrong.”

“Me too.”

Glancing at the clock, he saw it had been a hour since he’d gotten home, which meant it was around 4pm on the east coast. Tuning back to the coverage, the mob outside the Capitol had grown, more people were scaling the wall to get inside, and Sami couldn’t help but think how all too easy it was for them.

“So uh...where’s the tear gas? The rubber bullets? The arrests?”

Rami snorted. “You’re fucking kidding, right? C’mon. Like that applies to them.”

Sami snorted too, and then laughed weakly, which turned into a laughing fit, and he could hear Rami calling his name. “Sorry...it’s just...fuck all of them.”

Rami raised his glass in a toast before he downed it in one go, pouring another serving. “Amen.”

“God, how am I supposed to explain this to my kids? You’re telling me I have to go to work tomorrow after this?”

“Same here,” Rami said. He was moving again, and Sami could see he was back in the kitchen too, digging through his refrigerator. He produced a bunch of grapes, a platter of salami, and a block of cheddar cheese, and Sami watched as he began to assemble an antipasti platter for one. “I don’t want to head to work. Seems pointless, after this.”

Sami bit his lip thoughtfully. “It’s not...useless. Use it. You’re angry-”

“Angry? No, I’m well passed pissed off at this point.”

“There you go. Use it, use that rage towards your scenes and whatever your character is. It’s...” Sami shrugged meekly at Rami, who was watching him intently. “It’s the only thing we can do at times like this, right?”

“I suppose,” Rami muttered, a tired expression on his face, and popped a grape into his mouth. He turned around, opening the fridge again and came back holding some hummus and olives in his hand. “I imagine it’ll be the only thing anyone will talking about for the next week. Rightfully so.” He opened the olives, laying a few of them out next to the salami, and stuck the jar back into the fridge. 

Sami was bemused. “How much are you eating?”

“As much as it takes to get through this shit show. I’m supposed to be on a diet right now, but I don’t give a shit. If I’m going to wine and dine watching this, I might as well do it properly.”

“Now I really wish I were there.”

“Yeah, me too. It would make it more bearable. But...this will do for now.”

Sami went silent, watching the TV again, which was now reporting about gunshots and a woman wounded. “Jesus Christ.”

Rami was muttering under his breath. “Shit, shit, shit, shit-”

They didn’t speak after that, both of them too lost in watching the news coverage, and Sami gripped his glass tightly as took a breath in to ease his anxiety.

Swallowing, he poured another glass, knowing he wouldn’t be finishing the bottle, and instead capped it and placed it in the fridge for tomorrow. It was an odd feeling, one that “scared” wouldn’t be able to cover. It was a looming, threatening feeling; something like this was so deeply entrenched in the fabric of the country. It wasn’t something that would go away on January 20th, as much as he wished for that. He wasn’t surprised that people had so much hatred for anyone other than themselves were coming out of the woodwork, blindly following what their commander in chief told them. The repercussions of this day would be something that would take a long time to repair.

“I’m tired,” he said suddenly. Rami’s voice was quiet, and though Sami didn’t elaborate, Rami seemed to understand what he meant perfectly.

“I know. So am I.”

---

When the crowds eventually thinned out, and Sami went back to work the next morning, he read the highlights of things he’d missed, flipping through the photos of the wreckage before the first period bell rang. When students trickled in, he was met with a sea of somber faces, and he knew he wouldn’t be teaching his regular lesson plans for the day. He felt enraged all over again.

Instead, he hopped up onto his desk, sitting cross legged and observing his students. “Alright. I would be...a very poor educator if I didn’t bring up what happened yesterday to all of you. And I know you’ll hear about it later in the day, I’m sure, but what we do here as teachers affects you guys for the rest of your lives. Now I don’t really care if you can’t tell me the imagery themes in The Great Gatsby, but I do care if you can’t think for yourselves. You’ll be reading and hearing a lot different things in the next coming weeks from people who think they’re right. And you’re all old enough, in my opinion, to have your own opinions on this. That being said, we all know what the banned book list is, correct?”

There were students nodding, and Sami nodded too, and he hopped off the desk to pull said list up. “Good. Pick a book from here, read it. There’s a reason all these books are banned from certain school curriculum, and I want you guys to pick one, and tell me why. It’s January. For every book you manage to get through from now till June, if you give me a one page analysis on your thoughts, I’ll give you extra credit that counts towards your final.” His students perked up at that, and he smiled inwardly. “Five points for every book, sound good?” There were murmurs of approval, and Sami continued, “it’s not mandatory, so don’t feel pressured to this. But I would...appreciate it if you did.”

“What if we read them all?” Someone asked.

There was always one.

Sami’s lips quirked up in amusement. “Good luck. You’ll notice there’s plenty of books on there we’ve read already.”

His students started chattering excitedly, and Sami cleared his throat, glancing at his copy of The Color of Water, which is what they were studying now. They would be finishing that tomorrow, the test for it was Monday, something which Sami had to make over the weekend. He hadn’t decided what to teach next, his gaze drifting to the copies of To Kill A Mockingbird in the back of the classroom, which was what he was planning to start Monday, after the kids took their test.

He debated on it, and then Rami’s words came back to him from the night before.

“He’ll leave the White House, but he’ll burn it down with him as he goes.”

He cleared his throat. “Guys, we’re just going to finish reading for the rest of the period, and we’ll go over the whole book for tomorrow before your test. So if you’ve got your books, take ‘em out.”

Later, once his classes were over for the day, he headed to the library, intent on finding Maria and asking for his next lesson plans.

“Hey Sami,” she greeted. “Back again? How’d they fare with Color of Water?”

“Not bad,” Sami said. “We’re finishing it up, test is Monday.”

“So, you’re here for Mockingbird?”

“No I’ve got Mockingbird,” he murmured, scanning the bookshelves. “That was what I was going to go with originally, but I’ve had a change of heart. Do you know if any of the faculty is teaching Orwell at the moment?”

“The freshmen, some of them are doing Animal Farm. But none of the AP classes right now. Which one?”

Sami spotted what he was looking for, and based on the piles of books they had, no one else had taught it yet, or he was late to the game.

“1984.”

[popculturebuffet]

New X-Men Xtrospective Part 3: Imperial (NXM #121-126)

To me all you happy people! And welcome back to my X-Citing look at Morrison’s Masterwork on Marvel’s Merry Mutants!  Part One is HERE, Part Two is HERE if you feel like it. 

If not... to catch you up on last time....

All Caught up? Good. Join me under the cut as our heroes head into this old woman’s hedd to see what’s wrong and fight off an alien army while horribly ill. 

Silent, Psychic Rescue in Process:

So we pick up not long after we left off: Thanks to Beast waking up from his bat induced coma, the X-Men now know Charles is trapped in Cassandra’s body and she pulled a Freaky Friday on him, with marginally less bullets. 

And thus we get this issue. This one was part of Nuff Said, an incredibly clever theme month by Marvel and one I wish they’d try and do again at some point in some form. 

The gimmick was simple but amazing: Every issue would be mostly silent, with at most some dialouge at the start and finish to bookend it. So far i’ve only read two issues of this, this one and the X-Statix one, but it is a genuinely great idea. I do think forcing it on the entire line was a bit much, but as I said I do wish they’d do this again just make it optional: have some books opt in or do some annuals with the theme. It’s just a fun break from the usual and with this issue resulted in one of the best single issues of x-men period. 

Naturally given the name, which is cleverly displayed on a sign the x-men have because of course they do, it’s exaclty that: Emma and Jean after readying themselves (Jean kisses Scott goodbye and Emma downs a bottle of jack because why not do an alchol before doing delecate mental surgery), head in. 

Inside they find horrific old lady head doors, stone ol dlady heads around a tower that shoot lasers, and said doors also bite and puke weird goop because it’s Grant Morrison. This is his chance to just go full balls out weird.. and given last time involved skin flake golemns.. and this isn’t even the weirdest he’s done. As mentioned last time he once had a supervillian run for president using a super LSD Bike that made everyone high. 

And just to prove he can reach that level of weirndess we find charles alone, naked and with an overenlarged brain.. before he transitions Jean to a field of sperm. 

Yeah... but this DOES have a point.. as it turns out it’s a meaphorical transition into his gestation as a baby.. and how he had a twin. Yeah turns out Cassandra was not lying he did try to kill her.. but as you can probably tell by the fact she’s a genocidal sociopath, she lied by omission to screw with Hank: In the womb she tried strangling Charles to death with his own umbilical cord..only for him to use baby’s first psonic blast to send her reeling and his mom tumbling down the stairs and well.. you can probably guess the rest. Yeah.. Cassandra’s entire origin story is concentrated 

And I love it. The sheer audacity is nice and everything but what makes it really work for me is the simple concept: An evil version of charles, one almost born at the same time whose every bit as evil as he is good.. granted there’s a TON of Morally Grey in Charles Xavier ESPECIALLY post decimation and even more so now with Krakoa. But he’s sitll at his heart a well meaning person, while Cassandra at her heart is a racist genocidal nightmare. She is pure evil, with enough personality to not make her boring.. and more importanlty all the power charles has but NONE of his restraint. Part of what makes Charles noble is he only uses his powers when necessary. Cassandra.. has no such restraint and will happily mentally snap necks all day. 

So with this our heroine’s leave and we end on the iconic line “Professor Xavier killed his twin sister in the womb. We Really ought to talk. 

This issue is an utter classic. It finally explains Cassandra a bit while still leaving a ton of questions, Frank Quitely is at his best here, and he and morrison are incrediby good at non verbal storyteling. The result is surreal, unsettling and awesome. Check it out. Seriously seek this one out it’s worth the trip. It’s so famous it was homaged with a spirtual sequel in the recent Giant Size X-Men one shots. It’s excellent stuff

Imperial:

So with our first issue we open with things going terrible on that flag ship Cassandra took off on with Lilandra, empress of the Shiar and Xavier’s space wife. She’s revealed herself, is ravaging the ship and mind rapes a the helmsman into crashing it, so with no other options Lilandra sends Smasher, not the one from the avengers run earlier version, to earth to send a warning to the X-Men. 

At the School things are actually going well for a second. In an intresting move the school is changing things up with no officla timetable.. which I think means there’s no rigid class schedule and you can just do them as you please or as necessary for your power. The plan’s the same, they just want to learn from each other in building mutant society and the future. It’s ideas like this that are the bedrock of the current run and were sadly never fully realized here.. but I don’t blame this run for that. Morrison had 2-3 years and it was cut short early, leading to a rather disapointing ending we’ll get to. They never had a chance to really dig in because they were kicked out by morons and then their whole grand design was undone until Hickman un-undid it in 2019. And even then some of this like the idea of mutant culture and what not hasn’t been picked up on yet. I do mean YET, as given the sheer NUMBER of x books touching on all sorts of subjects, it’s only a matter of if not when. 

As for who’s behind this it’s a combination of Jean and Charles: Jean is using charles notes and is going at full tilt. Scott is concerned though.. both about her since she went Phoenix and Logan told him about it and because these plans may alarm the humans. ON the former Jean just brushes him off which is not right.. given what happened with the phoenix force copy of jean, which granted had her personality, memories and powers and Jean later got a set of her memories so it might as well of been and only MAYBE the genocide is something Jean wouldn’t of done under the same circumstances, he’s understandably concerned. He lost her to it last time and it did weird shit to poor Rachel, who hif you don’t know is their daughter from an alternate timeline... because the Summer’s family tree is a WAKING NIGHTMARE. Thankfully I don’t have to untangle it because there’s a handy chart right here to do it for me that was recently released in X-Men Legends, a new series featuring legendary x creators telling stories in the cracks... and given we’re getitng storys by the simosons and peter motherfucking david, yeah good stuff.

And why yes there are more than one clone in this tree and several alternate timelines. , not to mention several clones and a sexy cat lady, it’s complicated is understnading it and i’m not sure what properly states it honestly. Also if your wondering about Adam there he’s the genetic son of Cyclops mom and the ma Shiar empreror who killed her for not sleeping with him through. Again it’s complicate REALLY feels like understatement. 

Point is he DOES have a right to be worried about the thing that lead to her being cocooned for a while and left their daughter in the future at the time of this... just in case you needed a reminder after that wonderful clusterfuck of a chart up above athe x-men are really fucking weird. 

So Jean brushing that off is not okay. She does however call him out on the second one and rightfully so: This isn’t some dominate the humans manifesto: this is simply changing the course of the future and how they teach their students to create a better one instead of adhering to human norms to try and appease “the republicans’, as jean puts it.. which has only gotten MORE RELEVANT, 20 years on: Attempts to appease the norms of society and things “just because that’s how it’s been” have never been a good thing. It’s why the very writer of this comic took several decades to properly identify themselves as non binary because people were too stuck int heir ways to try and see if there really were just two genders. Fighting against the grain, finding new ways to express things that have always been there... it’s what humanity needs to do and certainly what comes after us would need to do. i’ts how we get better as a race. If something’s not working we change it, quickly or slowly. And given Scott’s huge amount of emotoinal repression lately.. I can see why she’d see the former complaint as just him being a dick as opposed to the genuine concern it is. 

Short Version: Jean Grey is fucking awesome and while he’d be the last to write her for decades, no one did it better than Grant and no one has since.  Hopefully Gerry Duggan can clear that bar. 

After this fight we get a fuller verson of what happened both at the end of issue 120 and in the big reveal last issue: Turns out Hank awoke because Charles piloted his body like a truck and needed it revealed fast. Hank’s regained control of his body and facilities by now, but in a twist of irony he helpfully points out, had Cassandra not gone a needlessly cruel and sociopathic tangent and had Beak beat Beast into a coma, Charles wouldn’t of had a body. 

As for Charles in cass’ body he’s now in a tub of goo created by it. 

It acts as a shield as well as melding him with Cerebra so he can talk to jean telepathically as his thoughts are very weak.

Thanks to this and her psychic Jaunt, Jean now knows just what the hell cassandra is: She really is Charles twin sister. As for how the hell she surivied outside of the womb and how Charles never knew, she created herself a clone body using his cells and didn’t fully manifest till now. And while she has plenty of intellegence, at an emotional level she’s fully convinced, much like an infant that only she and charles are real and thus destroying him means gaining domance over her world. So in short she’s both utterly insane and now has an interstellar empire at her fingertips. 

And the news SOMEHOW get sworse: She booby trapped her body and charles only has days before he’s vegatable, having put every psychological disease possible in there, and she’s probably responsible for their colds and the u-men. So in short their pretty scrwed but at the very least Charles plans to try to flip things, use the fact their now public (a clear tactic to weaken them) to share his manefesto, his last will and testiment if you would. 

Scott meanwhile figures since their sick a healer might be a good idea and goes solo to fetch Xorn... who just sorta disappeared after the annual and didn’t return till his arc. 

We get an utterly touching scene after this: With Logan staying on his hobbit like toes in case of another attack, Jean goes to talk to hank. Hank is still throughly traumatized from the attack, fearing Cassandra is right and he’ll just keep devlovling until he ends up in a metamoprhisis type situation. I mean it’s not ALL bad hank,.. I mean going through that guarantees a musical about you. 

But Jean reassures him: It’s okay to be afraid of her, they all are.. but as she puts it...

It’s a really powerful inspiring scene... and really afirms how well Morrison writes Jean from the previous arc onward. She’s confident, powerful.. but also caring and compassionate. Here hank’s at his lowest, disparing that this might get worse.. and she reaffirms that htis evolution is an upgrade.. he may not be the same.. but that’s okay. He’s better. It really speaks to the core message of the X-Men as a whole and why they’ve stuck around all this time: It’s not just okay your diffrent.. it’s WONDERFUL. Your wonderful for being you. Whatever meataphor you read into it, it’s at it’s core a message that no matter who hunts you or trys to shame you for what you are, they are wrong and you are wonderful. And you are not alone... your people are out there.. and they will go through hell to protect you. It’s moments like this that remind me despite the bad parts, the accidnetal transphobic metaphor last time, a subplot with Hank coming up, the affair storyline and Planet X, just.. Planet X.. this run is special to me for a reason. It has heart, character and truly gets how the x-men should work, what makes them great... while making something NEW AND FRESH from it’s bones. Pushing envelopes, chanigng things for good and shaking things the hell up after far too much stagnation. It’s just pure good comicy goodness and i’m proud to finally be talking about it after having always wanted to. 

So as we end the issue Scott grabs Xorn, whose been at a budist temple all this time, and Smasher arrives to warn earth... but his warning missed his intended target. 

Well at least he got to Hellcow’s coven.. maybe she can call in Man Eating Cow and the Chick Fill A Super Cows.. thought hey might not help. Their parent company IS pretty homophobic.. I doubt their high on mutants either. 

Testament Emma and Jean talk over things how i’ts going etc, with Emma unsuprisingly annoyed with most of the students and Jean optimsitc.

But Emma soon has bigger issues to deal with: TEEN ANGST!

Yeah 4/5 of the Cuckoos are upset Esme has a boyfriend. Their concerns in part are because without her their apparently powerless.. which given one will die and another will leave and they’ll be left with three is just factually not true, and either Morrison changed his mind later, or more likely their simply exagerating like teens do. Emma points out it’s pointless to fight this...

So... their in a domestically abusive relationship rife with sexual tension? Are you sure your not htinking of Sam and Diane, Ross and Rachel, Garfiled and Odie perhaps?

Meanwhile Angel’s sulking in a tree talking about how all the kids are stupid and she dosen’t fit in. That sort of thing. Wolverine naturally has a tactful and understandable response to this:

It’s here Angel goes from understandable, a bit hard edged and obnoxious becuase of a very rough life.. and just becomes annoying.  I do get what Grant was trying to do: he was trying to play with Wolverine’s habit of taking sassy teens under his wing by giving him a more hardscrabble one with a harder life pre-xaviers.. not that Jubilee’s was easy, but I get what he was going for.. he just dosen’t succeed. Instead of a realistic version of a teen sidekick she just comes off as an obnoxious brat whose rude to everyone including her one friend Logan and her later boyfriend.  It dosen’t help that ONCE AGAIN, Morrison flew directly into unfortunate implications without meaning to, by having the only major POC character (Bishop guest stars later and there are two significant characters during the Riot at Xaviers arc but both aren’t relevant before or after), be an abused teen with gross fly based powers and a teen pregnancy subplot. Seriously this isn’t even the LAST time Morrison shoves their foot in their mouth like this in this run. While I do like this run a lot, it’s still 20 years old and it’s still going to have a bunch of bits that have aged like harvarti left on a sidewalk, and handing out unfortnuate implications like their candy is tied for the biggest with their handling of Magneto when he finally shows up in person. It’s THAT bad a take on the character that it’s up there with accidental racisim and transphobia. 

So moving on from.. that we get Jean comforting the professor before meeting the press, giving a throughly lovely speech about how Charles got his powers 30 years ago and despite seeing the worst in humanity, used his telepathy to allow him to see past it and see deep down just how scared and alone we all felt. So she takes them into a psychic conference room and we get a very interesting exchange. 

It’s an interesting parallel to how real world disinfranchised groups, how it takes time.. but soon being a POC or LBGTQ+ goes from unrightfully perscuted to celebrated. How a group starts with hates whipsers on the fringe of things but grows to be accepted, like it always SHOULD have been. Take representation of Trans people in the media. It started with Trans people being almost entirely punchlines and sources of fucking horendous “DID DEY USED TO BE A MAN.” storylines and hurtful jabs at people who had transitioned, treating them as a sideshow instead of you know as fucking human beings. But now coming out as what you always were ont he inside is celebrated. Sure the right are dicks about it but they always will be: but most media gladly celebrates when someone comes out as trans. Same with being gay, or bi or pan or polamorus or nonbinary.  Hell I admire grant for showing i’ts not even 100% perfect once you are popular: you still have to grapple both with people wanting to copot your culture and those who still don’t understand you trying to speak for you. 

She also gets the standard question calling the X-Men an army, shoots it down with the normal global peacekeeping operation stuff.. then we get this bitch. 

Who quickly realizes she’s outclassed by Emma Frost, professional that bitch. And while Jean is understandbly going to have to erase that.. I can’t blame her for snapping her.

Just to tear this shit down.: The privacy thing is not something she’s doing. All she’s doing is spcyhic teleconfrencing, you harpy. They fight greek gods and monsters to protect your sorry ass and the last one.. just makes me absolutely livid and feels so much like a real world comment i’m suprised there isn’t a fox news logo next to her bigoted head. 

Trouble follows them everywhere they go.. because their mutants. They can’t help it. A LOT of shit like the demons, aliens, and gods and what not, I do not know if they actually did fight the greek gods but i’m not going to say for sure they did not, the norse gods defintely, not sure on greek. But the point is allt his stuff HAPPENS TO THEM half the time, or is a consequence of trying to PROTECT PEOPLE. I’m so nettled by this because this is how the marvel unvierse acts all the fucking time towards ALL super powered peoples. Mutants esepcailly but they blame the heroes and what not for being chased and harassed by guys in costumes or alien invasions or all the stuff they FIGHT. Sure sometimes they caused it but it’s either because of a monsterous person with a grudge or just because their powerful and some douche took an intrest. I’m just.. so fucking tired of asshole civlians in comics. It’s realisitc I know but it’s just hard to stomach after so many have turned their back on so many for such DUMB reasons. 

Jean recovers well pointing out the genocide and how 16 million people, 16 million possible einsteinss or mozarts are just GONE, and that their trying to focus on the future. She also brings up autistic savants who can talk to atoms and while I don’t like the use of the savant thing, as it brings to mind stuff like rainman I very badly want to see this autistic kid who can talk to atoms as someone on the spectrum myself. Also I just want the crew of HIckma’ns books in general to pour over this because there are a lot of intresting powers and personalities only MENTIONED we never saw proper that could be great characters. Just saying. 

Jean cocludes her speech to the world, including Logan whose wisely getting hammered at anearbye bar.. while Hank finds out what’s going on with their sickness.. nanonscopic sentnels in the blood. 

But while the press confrence ends well with Jean having won over the press.. things go sideways as not only is it clear Esme’s boyfriend is in fact something sinister.. but Jean falls over due to the nano snetinels, and senses Scott being taken in tibet, taken down by a group of the Shiar’s imperial guard.. picutre the legion of superheroes but blindly loyal to the goverment and far more likely to get killed. And the rest are preparing to attacking including Gladiator who if you don’t know him, has all the powers of superman as long as he retains his confidence. 

And it turns out Esme’s boyfriend is an advanced Scout, the shapeshifting amoeba blob thing Stuff, a new addition by morrison and good on him. And the Imperial Guard are here but with one goal

 Superdestroyer

On the Ship we find out both wha’ts going on with Scott and Xorn, they’ve been taken and why the shiar are attempting mutant genocide: Cassandra is puppeting ALL of them, has convinced them the mutants are infected and since Lilandra is a puppet, Scott’s words fall on deaf ears. 

Meanwhile Wolverine ambushes one of the squads, kiling one named Dinosaurer via claw to the brain, while Emma has had a dome thing put over her head and isn’t transforming into diamond to counter it because...

But the Cuckoos fight back, taking out oracle before easily handling stuff since his brain is fairly simple.. and given he’s racist against solid people and unlike the others reveling in the genocide just a tad.. yeah what he deserves. So now with a living weapon the Cuckoos make peace with Angel as they need all the help they can get. 

Jean ushers the press into the panic room, not happy about it but not having anothe roption for their saftey. Hank tells her to self distruct crebra if cassandra get sclose and goes off to join the fight and let off some steam over the situation. Hank easily routes two of them, and one , Manta tries to just fly right ot jtean wince their TK proof. How does that go?

Jean gets to saftey after that, not that she needs it and hank is quickly taken down by a batch of Superguardians.. only for Wolverine to arrive in the Sknitt of time and chop them up.. oh and as one of the puts it...

Bad. Ass. I also like the addition of the flight patch, a nod to the Legion, who the Imperial Guard were based on as those kids used flight rings. 

But while Logan and Hank easily tag team these assholes...

The SHiar call in the big guns.. Gladiator.. and I wasn’t kidding abotu the superman thing. While Logan TRIES to talk him out of it, the murders only confirm Cassandra’s bullshit and Gladiator breaks into the panic room throwing hank and wolverin’e before them having utterly decimated them off panel. I mean Wolvie is a badass.. but even he has limits. I also like recontecullizing the guard as a whole here.. showing just how TERRIFYING they SHOULD be as enimies to the x-men. Yes our heroes did win.. but barely and only till Gladiator showed up. In most cases thier clearly holding back out of affection but here hteir just at errifying unstoppable force, and also apparently used to doing genocides like this. It takes what was a cheesy shout out to David Cockrums other big artistic work, and makes it horrifying and it is AWESOME. I admit to not having liked this arc as much for the longest time but this reread, the sheer teror and hopleessness as an interstellar superman easily cuts through our mighty mutants like tissue... it’s awesome. 

Thankfully one of the Guard found smasher.. and thus the truth comes out so our heroes are given a stay of execution with Gladiator clearly horrified at what he almost did and our heroes now so sick they can barely move and Hank can’t think them out of this. 

Thankfully he dosen’t has to as back in space, Cyclops tires of it and points out something Xorn, not being as experinced nor having delt with the guard ahd thought of: G-Type, the glowly guy about to execute them, is made of solar energy.. and xorn can manipulate that thanks to his star brain. He does, they take out the rest.. and prepare to go save the day.

Losers: PIcking up shortly before where we left off we see Cassandra murder Lilandra’s advisor who figured out what she was just as our heroes escape.. and as Cassandra is having Lilnadra order all of the shiar ships to immolate themselves. 

WIth Lilandra not being any use, Cass tries to psychically force her to commit sucidie but jumping off a space ledge but Xorn saves her. Cass tries another turn at mentally breaking an x-man, pointing out all scott’s recent flaws, his increased repression his faling marriage and while it gets him to stop it dosen’t quite work as well as it did on hank, likely because at his heart Hank is simply a more emotive person. Though his REAL reason for stalling is he can’t kill charles.. which he muses just as the ship blows up real good. 

Meanwhile back at Campus the kids initaiate their plan, having Angel break in and take a dna sample. She also finds beak naked in a tank and decides eh why not and brings him with her. This ends up paying off as Beak suggests the obvious to get emma free.. just force the space guy they have over in the corner to do it. They do and it works

Back in the mansion our heroes prepare for Casssandra... but Jean and Logan object to saving her body, pointing out that getting hank to repair it is exactly what she wants, and that Jean feels she can save charles without uit, with Hank being understandably doubtful given their current condition.. but Jean’s real plan is to put charles in her head and it’s already too far in actoin to stop now: she’s been saving his memories as they flaked off and if she dosen’t do this now there will be no charles left. 

Hank evacuates the civlians to teh danger room, and has an encounter with trish who tries to apologize and get him back.. only for him to rightfully regjecter her..a and then goes a step further by capping it off with:

Yeah on it’s own it’s not TERRIBLE. Still very dated to claim your gay just to spite someone, but for the time it was acceptable and compared to some of Morrison’s other gaffes in the run it’s minor at best. But it leads into a rather annoying subplot we’ll naturally get to that’s a much bigger issue, so i’ll save talking about it in full for when it comes up again. 

Jean manages to shove Chuck into her head, but is naturally leaking a bit and barely holding it or him together and may of overestimated herself just a tad.. while on the lawn Cassandra easily takes out the guards. That said the scene of Jean taking Chuck into her head is REALLY damn awesome. Jean is the arc MVP by a mile and Hank is pretty dang good competition. 

All Hell: We open the final issue of the arc with Scott and Xorn escaping the spaceship using some teleport tubes taking Arakai and Lilandra with them. 

We open with Cassadra utterly humilating gladiator while the kid team prepares to fight her despite you know, the 8 billion to 1 odds against them. 

Jean, despite hte discknes and trying to keep an old man in her brain marches out , prepared to fight, for the kids sake. For the world’s sake. But Logan’s easily taken out and with Jean barely holding it together.. the kids prepare to fight.. likely being slaughtered even if they mean well.. onlyf or help to finally arrive with Scott and Xorn glowy porting in. We get a really sweet , short moment with scott and jean...

Scott not knowing the situation tries to have Xorn heal charles first but since Cassandra’s body is dead and unoccupied that’s a no go.. he’s still usefult hough, curing Jean of her nanosentital sickness and moving on to Scott and Hank while there’s still time. 

We find out more about cassandra: She’s a murrmadi, a bodyless parasite.. eseetinally the dark first test a person faces... she just stuck around because she was one for a telepath.. the world’s STRONGEST telepath. But really other than that part the rest just feels like stuff we alreayd heard LAST TIME, mildly repaackaged and seems enitrley like filler to pad the issue out. 

So while Jean takes cerebra, both to keep it away from Cassandra’s plans of mutant genocide and for whatever she has planned, Scott, Hank and Xorn prepare to hold the line.. and as Jean mentions.. emma’s still out in the wild. 

So we get our climactic showdown.. logan, hank and xorn veruss cassandra, with Cassandra trying to do eveyrthing she can, tear them down mentally, throw out the students with our heroes fighting back best they can. It’s good stuff.  

Eventaully Cassandra gets to Jean.. but she’s already inacted her plan, putting a piece of Xavier’s mind in EVERY mutant, and giving Cassandra one ohell ofa reason you suck speech. 

It’s an incapsulation of what i said earlier and what the runs about: alone we are weak but together.. we just might make it. More on that as we go. But thanks to Cass naturally going fo rcerberba.. she accidently restores charles and is left bodyless.

Emma finishes the fight with her own brilliant gambit, presending cassandra her body.. but it’s actually stuff , reprogrammed into a sentient brain for her to inhabit and leaving her trapped, with Charles hoping t teach the now mentally reset Cassandra.  So Cassandra is beat, the virus is stopped, and our heroes have one.. but naturally for this run.. there’s one last suprise in store. 

Charles can walk again.. and going forward will be a far more active member of the team. The team is complete, Cassandra is beaten, and the future.. is bright. 

Final Thoughts:

This arc is a mixed bag.. it has really good scenes with the first and last issues being the standouts, with the former being an utter classic with an intresting gimick and the latter being a rousing climax with tons of awesome moments, with some good mometns scattered throughout.

But that’s the arc’s issue.. it has good moments and ideas.. but they don’t quite work togehter. The idea of teh Shiar Imperial Guard nearly doing a genocide is good, but the Shiar are such flat characters.. it’s really hard to care. They just don’t have enough connection to the x-men to really have the betryal sting but aren’t callous enough for genocide protocols to maeks sense. It’s a good idea, I still support it being terrifying.. but not enough is done with it and it feels liek Grant is more concerned with throwing weirdos at the x-men than actually saying something. 

The biggest issue however is the art. While inconsitant art is an issue as they’d rotate artists.. but in previous arcs it was usually pretty evenly split but here it’s sloppy: Quitely does the first issue, van Sciver the second.. and the worst of the three Igor Kordey does most of the art. I gave him the beinfit of the doubt last time.. but this time not so much. His art is muddy and tries to be stylized but comes off confusing,ugly and not great. He’s probably a lovely guy but given he’s up against two legendary artists, his lack of style comapred to both shows badly.  And given the arc is alreayd a bit overly complicated, it makes things WORSE by giving us muddled art in a very complex storyline. The flip flopping art makes a fairly intricate story very hard to follow. It’s easily why this arc didn’t grab me in the past and even seeing some better moments, it’s not the series best. It’s not the worst either, Planet X easily takes that ground despite having far better art. It’s an incredibly muddled incredibly long feeling arc and really needed to be compressed by one or two issues but instead is just hard to get through. It’s owrth it for the rest of the runa nd the good moments within but all in all easily one of the weakest points in the series. 

Next Month on New X-Men:The X-Men soak in the new world order, and we meet fantomex, dust and the last surivivors of genosha. 

Next on this blog:Green Eggs and Ham is back!

If you enjoyed this review PLEASE join my patreon. The end of hte month is coming and I need eveyr cent I can get so join at patreon.com/popculturebuffet and i’ll see you at the next rainbow. 

[anexplanationofunfortunateevents]

democracy was on the ballot and it won

I am a slow-boring-of-hard-boards realist about politics. I am delightedly surprised when I get what I want AT ALL. Months and months ago, I said that my number one issue in this election was the desperate need to put the brakes on democratic backsliding in the United States. I’m not sure how to process the fact that I’ve started to get what I wanted even before the transition.

There is a real path forward for democracy reform in this country. EVEN WITH an aspiring autocrat doing everything he could to rig this election, EVEN WITH a pandemic raging, EVEN WITH malicious foreign actors still trying cause problems, EVEN THOUGH we still have not restored the Voting Rights Act, EVEN WITH all the structural imbalances built into our creaky eighteenth-century constitutional system:

Voter participation went way up! People voted over the course of several weeks from the comfort of their own homes, or on weekends, or on Election Day. And because people took responsibility and spread out their votes like that, it was safer to go to polling places. That was a huge collective choice to prevent a lot of suffering and even some deaths.

A big part of why they could do that is the enormous number of citizens who rallied to work at the polls so that the retirees who usually do the job could sit this year out.

Cities and states around the country took the time they need to count carefully.

Media gatekeepers, for the most part, had the discipline and the patience to be helpful to users about what we knew and what we didn’t. If anything, they’re erring on the side of being too cautious. This is after weeks of most media gatekeepers having the discipline to debunk a disinformation campaign by Trump’s allies and Russian backers, instead of aggressively participating in it.

Social media companies took the most aggressive countermeasures yet against election misinformation.

The person who got the most votes is also the person who won the election, which is pretty cool!

That is a huge improvement from EVERY PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION IN THE TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY. Just in terms of how well the election itself was administered, my only major criticism is that we still did not do something called risk-limiting audits. In the case of an election, audits are basically a carefully calibrated statistical smell test. They’re not a recount. They are a reliable and cost-effective way of figuring out if a recount or some other type of scrutiny should be done for the sake of public confidence in the results – and that makes them a cost-effective deterrence against any bad actors who are considering sabotage. Audits are important whether an election goes your way or not, just like smoke detectors are important whether your building catches fire or not.

But that absolutely should not take away from the fact that we overcame all the new problems that were introduced this year and took some big steps toward solving a lot of old ones – despite the best efforts of Trump and all his enablers. Imagine what we could do under an administration that is helping democracy revitalization instead of aggressively hindering it.

The easiest way for us to make the most comprehensive change would be to win the Senate, which would allow a Biden administration to pass a revitalized Voting Rights Act and restore legitimacy to the federal courts. If you have any time or money to spare in the next few weeks, consider sharing it with the two excellent Democratic candidates in the Georgia Senate runoffs.

We should be realistic about the situation: we’re probably not going to get to do it the easy way, at least, not until after the midterms. But we’re not going to be doing it the hard way any more. The hard way is what we’re doing now. We’re about to get a Department of Justice that opposes civil rights violations and enforces what’s left of the current Voting Rights Act. The intelligence and military cybersecurity units are going to be able to work with the administration instead of around it. And we aren’t going to have to deal with a 24/7 fusillade of lies and voter intimidation coming from the Oval Office. To spin out the “it’s a marathon, not a sprint” metaphor: we’ve been running a marathon uphill carrying forty-pound backpacks. We’ve reached the top where the path levels out, and someone just took our bags and gave us protein bars.

And while we have our protein bars, let’s look around, because the view is as clear and as beautiful as it’s going to get. Donald Trump had every intention of wrecking American democracy, and the entire Republican party had every intention of supporting his aspiring dictatorship. And, while Trump himself is and always has been a clown, the person occupying the Oval Office is the most powerful person on the planet. Actually, that’s an understatement. Since Truman gave the order to drop the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, our technology has grown stronger and our government has concentrated more and more power in the executive branch, which means that every holder of that office has arguably been the most powerful person in the history of the world. Every other holder of that office has at least wanted to think of himself as using that power for the advancement of democracy and humanity. Donald Trump affirmatively tried to use all that power to entrench himself there permanently.

We stopped him. We stopped him peacefully. We stopped him without further harming the many vulnerable people he holds hostage in a hundred different ways. We stopped him not by elevating an equal-but-opposite charismatic demagogue for a two-men-enter-one-man-leaves smackdown, but by building a vibrant, heterogenous coalition and finding competent, experienced, principled leaders who respect that coalition in all its raucous power. We stopped him, in short, by choosing to do democracy.

That feels good today and it’s enormously consequential. It is also proof of concept. It is something that can happen, because it has happened.

Something that political scientists and democracy advocates have been saying for the past few years is that Trump has been a propaganda gold mine for dictators. They use him as a cautionary tale against liberal democracy or even against hoping that things can ever get better: see, even the Americans are no better than we are! Dictators can artificially insulate themselves from accountability in the short term, which makes them ill-equipped to think about backfire. Train your people’s eyes on the aspiring American autocrat, and they can all see his humiliating fall.

To our sisters and brothers around the world, from Idlib to Hong Kong, from São Paolo to Moscow, and along every wide country road in between: this is the only true thing your oppressors have ever told you. We are no better than you are. We are no more suited for or entitled to liberation. Look what we have done. Imagine what you can do.

There’s kind of a false dichotomy going on where people swung from “Trump is going to successfully rig the election for himself” pessimism to “oh, Biden only ousted an incumbent by a freakishly large margin, it wasn’t an immediate electoral college landslide, why did Trump get so close.” This take has set in before deep blue California and New York have come close to completing their mail-in ballot counts, which tells you that it isn’t serious, but it’s also beside the point. Trump succeeded in making the election unfair. If he hadn’t illegitimately put a whole lot of thumbs on the scale in his favor, if we’d actually had the free and fair election we deserved, I think he probably would have lost in a landslide. We did the work and showed up in numbers that were ultimately too big to rig. That led to victory, although not a victory you can quantifiably measure against the dozen or so American elections that were more or less free and fair. That doesn’t mean the rigging didn’t happen or have any impact. It means we beat the spread. As the world’s most prominent train enthusiast once said, that is a big fucking deal.

A government of the people, by the people, and for the people has not perished from the earth. One day soon, it may even exist. That is our charge. That is our choice.

So take a moment to recharge. Enjoy the view. Breathe. We got work to do.

[shewantedtobeasecretgirl]

11. The Lovecats a.k.a an irresistible offer, a guy in proper clothes and a dangerous ginger

In the previous chapters: Effie gives a few pictures taken by her to Krisha who promises to show them to Kelly Curtis but Effie rushes away in the middle of the conversation to avert a date crisis between Judy and Jeff . After Mike’s awkward one-night-stand and the embarrassing intermezzo between Judy and Stone in the shower (that might have been seen by someone else too), the bunch is gathering at breakfast time in a bistro near the motel. Their exchange gets interrupted by Eric who has bad news for them.

 „Guys, we have a problem.”

Ugh… if I was a road manager and the band I’m managing had a show tonight and the lead singer had lost his voice due to his uncontrolled yelling, maybe I’d call it a problem. But I’m a lead singer of a band that is supposed to play a show tonight who lost his voice due to his uncontrolled yelling so I just call it an as fucked-up dumpster fire as possible.

I can barely understand the reactions since everyone in the bunch is desperately shouting at us.

“Has Karrie disappeared?”

“Did Suns defeat Sonics? I knew it!”

“Is the Twelfth Amendment coming into effect again?”

“We’re out of weed?”

Yeah, preferences.

“Hey, everyone, calm the fuck down!” Eric tries to talk them down. “It’s about the show tonight. We… we probably have to cancel it.”

“What? Why? No way!” the cacophony goes on and it only stops when Eric shuts them up with a loud whistle using his fingers.

“Should I explain calm or fuck or down?” he asks annoyed. “The thing is… Ed has lost his voice. He’s not even able to speak.”

“But… how?” Stone stares at us with clueless face. Such a smart guy and such a stupid question.

“He obviously forgot it in a public restroom and by the time he went back, it was already gone. Jesus.” Judy rolls her eyes playing with her fork. Thanks Judy, that’s what I was thinking about, now that you’ve translated it into Sarcasm, Stone might understand too.

“Actually, he accidentally flushed it down the toilet. In case you need to know the exact details to process it, Stoney.” Beth supports her with an audacious grin.

“No problem, we send Jeff down in the canal, I’m sure he’ll find it.”

“I’m able to deal with any shit except yours, Stone.” Jeff retorts, getting a snort from Judy as a reward.

“If I was you, I wouldn’t be so proud of that…”

“Seriously, what happened?” Mike cuts the forming exchange off.

“He was complaining about having a sore throat already yesterday evening too… he was working on a few lyrics but he felt tired and fell asleep relatively early and by this morning… nothing, he can only whisper, I’m afraid…”

“NO!!!” Judy interrupts her and blushes in a second since suddenly, all eyes are fixed on her. “I mean he mustn’t whisper, that’s the worst he can do.”

He? Hey, I lost my voice, not my hearing or my mind.

“It kills vocal cords, which can even lead to neck pains, I’m speaking from experience.”

“Really?” Eric frowns in disbelief.

“He has probably laryngitis. I mean, I’m not sure, he should see an otorhinolaryngologist for an exact diagnose but it’s very likely. It’s mostly viral or bacterial but extreme overburdening doesn’t help either… and extreme overburdening is a pretty euphemistic description for what you’re doing every night, sorry Ed but someone has to finally say it.” she addresses me but my only answer is a helpless shrug. I’m sure I do something wrong but I was procrastinating to face my limits until now and… here’s the result.

“And now she’s already a doctor too. And she completed the medical program in one single night, remarkable.”

“Shut up Stone.” Eric interjects not taking his eyes off of Judy.

“And how long is the regeneration period?” Beth asks, digging her face into my shoulder, which makes me reach for her neck instinctively. She rubs her cheek against my back like a lazy cat as she’s enjoying the improvised massage.

“Well, he shouldn’t speak for a few days but singing is another case, maybe one month…” My hand stops.

“What?” Beth screams right into my ear as her head perks up. Okay, so much for my hearing.

“It depends but usually after a laryngitis, you win back your singing voice note by note, beginning from the nether region.”

“Whoa, Camden, you’re getting naughtier and naughtier…”

“Spirits sometimes help…”

“That’s what I’m telling you all the time!” Mike hits the table with his fist.

“… but it’s only symptomatic treatment, if it’s bacterial, antibiotics are the ultimate solution. And… although I definitely do not support anything that kills throat but I know that singers often get a Calcium shot if they have to perform when having voice problems. So... that would maybe help shorten the silence phase.” Judy explains unwillingly.

“So… let’s summarize what you’re suggesting: we bring Ed to an expert, convince the doctor to give him a Calcium shot and swear he won’t sing for a month… and we cancel the show tonight… and then... we’ll see?” Eric looks at Judy for reassurance.

“Kind of… but I have serious doubts if he can let any note out this week. But are you sure the show must be canceled? I mean, what if someone else sang? Stone? You like singing, don’t you?”

Judy, you have a huge luck that I’m not able to ask publicly why you know about that.

“Jesus, no, I’m not a singer.”

“Aren’t you?” she provokes him raising one eyebrow.

“Nah. Plus, I can’t sing while I’m playing the guitar, I’ve already tried it but every time I try sing, I fuck the riffs up.”

“And he cusses every time he talks. He’d be lynched by the crowd in like ten seconds.” Jeff adds. “Anyway, I’m the other one who sings the backup vocals, maybe I…”

“NO WAY!” everybody protests in unison.

“Okay, okay, it was just an idea…”

“A very bad idea. We would end up playing odes about Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, geez…”

Actually, why would it be that bad? He’s like a childhood hero to me. Plus, Stone wouldn’t be a better choice either, our crowd isn’t prepared for a rock cover of The Lumberjack Song.

“No, we have no other choice.”

“Maybe…”

“I SAID NO WHISPERING!” Judy nips my attempt to join the conversation in the bud. I reach in the chest pocket of my shirt because I think this is the right moment to use my latest invention. Beth immediately gets it and jumps in the middle.

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, I’m Beth Liebling, your favorite hostess and when I say favorite, I mean it.” she emphasizes the ongoing pun about the meaning of her last name with exaggerated winks. “Many of us have certainly experienced sore throat when swallowing or coughing is extremely painful and speaking seems to be impossible. The lack of communication makes us feel isolated and if we’re surrounded with sarcastic people, unsolved conflicts may result in anger issues.”

“I’m not angry at all, everything’s fine.” Stone smirks.

“But as always, we offer you a solution to tackle these difficulties and to present this incredible product, I ask my handsome partner, Edward for some help.” she pulls me next to herself by the sleeve of my shirt. I put on my dumbest smile and wait for the cue.

“Interaction cards!” she announces with pretended enthusiasm and glances at me. I lift the deck in my hand to eye level and show it around, still with the tooth-flashing fake smile.

“They make possible to maintain basic communication with the simplest messages.”

I present the first two cards with the words “yes” and “no”.

“Give me the “no”, I’ll buy it.” Stone grabs for it. I should have known.

“They also make us capable of expressing our current feelings.”

I spread out the next cards saying “shit”, “damn”, “fuck” and “I love you”.

“Aww. Give me that one!” Mike reaches out for the latter.

“Some of them declare basic axioms…” I wave with the “Pete Townshend is god” card. “No one? No problem, we’ve still got great stuff for our customers: the combined interaction cards!”

I flip through the deck and pick the “Fuck you Bush/republicans/Nazis/racists/homophobic assholes!” card.

“That’s cute, so heartfelt!” Eric presses his hand against his chest and takes it from me with the other one. I keep searching and giggle in advance when I finally pick the “Fuck you Stone!” card.

“Mine!” Judy and Jeff both almost fall out of the booth and then exchange a grin. Although Jeff was the faster, he places the card onto his palm and kneels down in front of her.

“In token of my appreciation, milady…” he offers it to the girl. To my biggest surprise, her first embarrassment evaporates quickly and she plays along.

“I’m always going to wear it over my heart.” she puts it into the chest pocket of her dungaree dress.

“How cheesy.” Stone comments dropping a piece of Emmentaler from his cheese plate into his mouth.

I nudge Beth to show her the card I made for her when she wasn’t looking. When she reads the “I love you, Beth” text on it, she slowly steps to me, laces her arms around my neck and pulls me into a relaxing, soft kiss. I capture her in a bear hug, letting her bury her head into my chest so that I can kiss the top of it and feel the familiar smell of the shampoo she’s used since I met her…

“Booo, the hostess is fucking the stage prop, disgusting…”

“Look, she’s licking the germs out of his mouth, ew…”

I try to ignore the childish remarks of Mike and Stone, luckily, Eric steers the conversation back to more professional questions.

“I guess I have to make a few phone calls, starting with the club, the guys who bought the ticket should receive refund… and I try to get a doctor for Ed, maybe we should try it in Charlotte, I don’t think we could find a specialist here…” he starts thinking loud, getting lost in the current, messy “to do” list he’s keeping in his pocket.

“„Sssooo… since the show has been canceled, I guess we have tons of time for the guitar lesson you asked for.” Jeff changes the topic with a huge grin, without the slightest intention of hiding his joy. And with the definite intention of using every occasion to spend more time alone with her.

“Guitar lesson? From Jeff?” Stone scoffs. “You know he didn’t become a bassist by chance, don’t you?”

“I must admit Stone’s right. There’s a particular reason for it… This bony asshole can’t hold a bass. We tried it, I swear but he ended up with his face in the concrete. If you take a closer look, you can notice that his Les Paul is only a cardboard replica too. He just pretends to play it, actually, it is Scully who plays his parts behind the amps.”

Judy bursts out in a heartfelt laughter, finally, Jeff has figured out that the way to her heart leads through well-played jokes. Possibly at Stone’s expense.

“I guess we could hang out together even tonight…” Jeff recommends with a cautious squint. That’s it, strike the iron while it’s hot…

“Tonight? But what about the show???”

“What show, Stone? We’ve just decided to cancel it…”

“But the supporting act is Tribe After Tribe! You love them, you’ve wanted to see them playing live since Tom Petty gave you their record! I definitely go and watch them!” Stone pouts like a child whose parents are about to call off the family visit to Disneyland.

“Shit… I mean, that’s true, they’re amazing… maybe you could come too…?”

“Nah, I don’t think so, I could finally sleep through the whole night… but we don’t have to do the soundcheck today, we could have the first lesson instead.”

“Hey Camden, you have a lot to learn, no one said you can skip today’s work!”

“I start with turning your volume down…” Judy retorts and turns immediately back to Jeff. “So, what do you say?”

“Sure… I mean, maybe you end up teaching me. But sooner or later, I have to figure out what I’m doing so…”

They both stand up, and as they are walking towards the exit, they keep talking, leaving the sour-faced Stone behind. I can only guess the reason of the change in her behavior… Jeff Ament, you’d better not mess up your chance.

***

„Granny, stop turning your head all the time! I can also hear you when you’re looking straight ahead. Otherwise I mess up your hair!”

“Effie darling, I’m an old woman, I don’t want to be pretty, I just want shorter hair so that I can comb it easier after hair wash.” she answers, of course she can’t help moving her head this time either.

“Granny! What did I just say? Okay, I accept that you don’t care about your look but I don’t lend my name to anything. Plus, if you keep squirming, I might even cut you. Or myself. Geez, I don’t know what happened to your hair after it had turned grey, it’s like barbed wire, maybe I should try it with a machete…” I mutter as I try to straighten her strands with a comb before I start cutting.

“I’ve told you, you can do anything with it, my body is a rusty, old machine, I can’t lean forward in the bath tub or brush it for hours. You could even shave it, I don’t care.”

“Do you really want to enjoy the Seattle rain on your bald scalp? I doubt it. Did you know that dripping ice cold water on the shaved head of prisoners was a popular way of torment in the Middle Ages? And I don’t think Mr. Taylor would like it either.” I refer to her old neighbor with a sly smile.

“Come on, Effie. Peter and I are both basically fossils.” she waves with an embarrassed, short laughter. We’ve been teasing her with him for years but she always reacts with denial, she belongs to the generation of which members think attraction over a certain age is something inappropriate. Or can’t even exist. And if it still does, it’s better to pretend it doesn’t.

“Single fossils!” I point out.

“I know it’s a very fashionable word nowadays but we are both widows, my dear. That’s completely different.” she insists playing with her wedding ring that embraces her ring finger still perfectly. I could stare at her hands for hours, her elegant fingers with strong, even, oval nails, whereas the backs of her hands and her palms are soft and always warm, Mom is convinced that’s the reason why she can prepare the most delicious homemade pastries in the world. The thin, fine, spiderweb-like wrinkles on them are telling the story of a complicated life, every single day adds a newer chapter to it…

“That doesn’t mean you have to live like a recluse, I don’t know why you’re fighting even against the idea.”

“We’ve just put dear Clara in the grave and…”

“Granny, Mrs. Taylor died like… eight years ago???” I whine clipping together a few strands of her.

“To me, it feels like it had happened yesterday.”

“Because with aging, the perception of time is changing completely. It’s scientifically proven. Mr. Taylor is handsome and kind and however much you try to ignore it, he likes you.”

“Sweetie, the head of girls in your age is full of romantic imaginations but…”

“Don’t even try to project it back on me! He trims the hedge in your front yard and peeps from behind the curtain all the time, just to show up by chance whenever you step out of the house! He basically tears the shopping bags out of your hands every time you arrive home from the grocery store!” I confront her with the facts and begin to trim her hair in the meantime.

“Because he’s a gentleman! Our generation was taught how to be polite!” she explains intensely making me grab her head with both hands and turn it back in the right direction.

“Are you trying to say my generation is rude? Anyway, Mr. Taylor is a retired TV mechanic! He could repair that piece of shit old box you’re not willing to replace whenever it gets fucked up.” I play my ultimate argument knowing she has a soft spot for her favorite series. She was mourning after the last episode of Dallas for weeks.

“Effie, you know I don’t like dirty words! Please!”

“Sorry. He could repair that useless device you’re not willing to replace every time it gets fucked up.” I giggle.

“Effie!”

“Granny, just think into it: you shouldn’t make us record the missed episodes and come over if you want to watch them… you don’t like video cassettes anyway and you said you could never learn how to work a video player…” I purr into her ears trying to sound hypnotical.

“It’s rather you who should have a suitor! You’re such a pretty, young, smart girl, I can’t believe you don’t have a boyfriend.”

Oh no. She turned the tables on me. Clever.

“First of all, being single is not a shame, I won’t expire if I don’t get married before I turn 25. I’m just… not interested in anyone right now.”

And by the way, if you’re not studying, not working, and your so-called friends have forgotten about your existence for the reasons above and gave up inviting you at parties and social events, you don’t even have any possible love interest around. Not that I blame them, my high school classmates are scattered everywhere in the country and after I suspended my studies, I kind of slowly drifted away from the college buddies. We hung out a few times after it but I lost track of everything, I understood fewer and fewer inside jokes, I’m not allowed to drink alcohol, which was obviously no fun to them… damn, I can’t even get rid of my waste products without outside help. So at this point, it’s not that easy to meet guys at all. Let alone normal guys who aren’t slackers, heroin addicts and don’t have commitment issues. I mean, bad guys seem to be exciting until you have one. And I’ve had a few one, I always buy their stupid shit and I’m sick of them. Victor is my only friend who still cares and lets me know about must-see shows at RCKNDY but he’s a friend, we’ve never thought about each other with any hint of romantic feelings at that’s okay. To be honest, I don’t even want to be in a relationship only for the sake of it but I miss that little tingle in the chest and the stomach, at least a teeny-tiny, innocent crush wouldn’t hurt…

“I’m sure you have admirers, just no one meets your expectations, maybe you set the bar too high… Ouch!” she lets out a short scream since I manage to pull her hair involuntarily. The “picky girl” card again… this time, I’m not willing to begin a debate with her about that, I’ve done that several times and she just waved me off every single time.

“I think we should rather discuss Judy’s love life, it’s her who‘s surrounded by handsome boys right now.” I change the subject of the conversation, I know I’m mean and if Judy was here, she’d certainly kill me… but she’s not and the end justifies the means.

“I still can’t imagine her in the company of those men.”

Those men. Granny refuses to call the band members anything else. Okay, on sunny days, she refers to them as “those young men”… but Seattle isn’t famous for the frequency of sunny days, as we know.

“They are nice guys, she likes them. And as far as I know, they like her too…” I rather resist the urge to mention Stone’s aversion to her. “Moreover, I heard through the grapevine that one of them liked her more than the others…”

“A suitor? Sweetie, please bring my bag here, now that you’re mentioning that, I want to ask you something.”

I obey, and walk to the armchair to grab it. Like it was so easy.

“Jesus, Granny, are you keeping bricks in your handbag??? It’s a lethal weapon, if you beat someone in the head with it, you can be put in jail…” I shake my head as I put it on her lap.

“Come on, it’s not that heavy. There are a few things in it a woman can need anytime… “ she starts rummaging in the bag and as I peak into it, I can spot a Swiss Army penknife and a small bottle of tear gas spray. I rather don't ask anything. “I know you’ve shown me pictures of those men, magazine articles, posters but you know I forget everything… So I bought something up-to-date so that you can tell me what I have to know about them, especially if it concerns my granddaughter…” she pulls something colorful out of the mess.

“Steel Hammer magazine? Haha, I can’t believe it! You just went to a kiosk and asked for the latest issue of a metal magazine???” I laugh walking back behind her to pick up the threads again.

“Well… I couldn’t remember the band’s name, I just told to the salesman that my grandchild was working with one of the famous rock bands from our town and I wanted to learn more about them. He just laughed and told me this issue was full of Seattle rock bands and I could certainly find in it what I was looking for.” she flips through the pages. “So tell me again the names of those men, please.” she lifts the magazine and I giggle as I look over her head at it.

“Oh, that’s Alice in Chains, they are also popular but… I don’t think you would approve if Judy worked for them.”

“Why? They do drugs, right? I don’t even want to hear more about that.” Thank God. I don’t think I could tell her much about them without causing her a heart attack. “But they must be them!” she puts a picture in front my nose again.

“You’re getting warmer… but… still not hot. That’s Soundgarden, they are good friends with the guys, they’re even meeting them in a few weeks in Texas, I guess they’re playing a couple of shows together. But they are nice guys too, you don’t have to worry. No drugs, no sex. I mean no sex with strangers. Or other bands’ crew members.” I add before she’d make me run background checks and look into their police records.

“And these men?”

“Whoohoo, you’re hot! That’s them, Pearl Jam!”

“They have nice hair! Actually, all these musicians do. And their eyes are clear, I like that. They seem to be honest young men.” Young men. Maybe if I tell enough nice things about them, she’ll even call them “boys”, or even “guys”. ”Who is who?”

“Eddie, Jeff, Stone, Dave and Mike.” I list pointing at each name on its owner.

“And which of them is courting our Judy?” she inquires excitedly.

“I wouldn’t call it courting yet, all I know he’s already asked her out once but I’m still investigating the details, you know how secretive she can be. Anyway, it’s the bassist, Jeff. The second one from left.” I glance over her head again while I collect another strand with the comb and straighten it to see its length.

“He’s very athletic, he looks healthy, that’s good. A strong man. But those earrings and bracelets… does he always wear them?”

I can hear the frown in her voice.

“I guess so. But that doesn’t make him a bad person, body piercings are very fashionable nowadays. Anyway, he’s a Montanan guy, he’s also an artist, he paints I guess. And you see right, he’s a talented athlete, he plays basketball too and he’s an avid skateboarder. It’s not dangerous!” I add quickly since I’m not sure if skateboarding is old enough to be on Granny’s list of approved spare times activities

“His clothing style is weird, though. His chest is almost bare, he couldn’t be cold but then why was he wearing that hat?”

“Hehe, no one knows, he’s just into hats, that’s his trademark.” I shrug.

“I can’t believe Judy likes him. But that serious one with those sad eyes might be her type.”

“Who?” I wrinkle my forehead since I can’t really pair the description with any of them.

“Him. He dresses normally, that’s a nice shirt, no earrings or other weird jewelry. Does he have a tattoo?”

I glance back at the magazine only to see she’s pointing at Stone.

“Hahaha, oh my gosh, no, as far as I know he doesn’t, but if you ask me, he could even be as spotted as a panther, Judy can’t stand him.”

“But he seems to be a nice boy…”

BOY??? Stone?

“Okay, I admit, he looks good and the crew likes him and he’s super talented but he’s an asshole to Judy.”

“Effie!”

“He is! At first he ignored her and then he started acting like a douchebag and…”

“Effie, dear, you know how boys behave in school… they sometimes literally torture the girl they like… maybe he is just immature.”

“No, Granny, this is…”

Luckily, the stupid debate gets interrupted by the ringing of the phone and I jog to pick it up, maybe it’s Judy…

“Hello, Camdens…”

“Hey, Krisha’s here.”

“Oh… hi…”

“So you haven’t been abducted by aliens. You basically ran away from the office last time without any explanation and I’ve been waiting for your call since then… are you okay?”

“I am… I just… didn’t want to seem too desperate or impatient… I mean, managers are busy people, I thought it’d take some time until Kelly gets to watch my pictures…”

To be honest, I was convinced they’d ditch me with some polite lie like “Nice photos but we are looking for something else” or “We are going to call you later”… so I was just procrastinating facing the truth.

“I tied him to his chair and didn’t set him free, I have my methods… which means, I’ve got news for you.” she announces secretively.

“Effie, sweetie… my hair is still wet, would you give me a towel?”

“Just a second, Granny! Look, I’m busy now but could we meet later somewhere in the city?”

“You mean today?”

“Yes… ah, shit, I have an appointment at the hairdresser’s, but maybe after it…”

“I’m flexible, just tell me the place and the date…”

“Okay, it’s…”

***

When I pull down at the address she gave me on the phone, she’s already waiting for me in front of the building. As I lean over the passenger seat to open the door for her, my eyes are involuntarily drawn to the window decorated with kitschy hearts behind her.

“Love Is In The Hair? Seriously???” I frown. “I’d never let my hair be touched by anyone who’s able to make up such a terrible pun.”

“Oh, don’t be influenced by that, the owner is a hopeless, sentimental old woman but the girls working there are real pros!” she shakes her head as she gets in and buckles herself up. “Meg’s got golden hands, she’s the only one who can keep this haystack under control.” she points at her good smelling, fluffy, blonde strands. “I mean, several people have attempted but she’s the only one who’s succeeded without turning me into Dolly Parton.”

“Well, that’s definitely wouldn’t be a fortunate outcome.” I crack up. “But you got a nice perm, truly.”

“Oh, that’s my hair in its natural state. I had only a haircut, that’s all.”

“I can’t believe that! Aw, I’m so envious, I mean look at this mouse tail…” I flick my thin ponytail with one hand, keeping the other one on the steering wheel. “Unfortunately, my hair can’t recover from what I did to it in the ‘80s…”

“Ouch, well, those were tough times... I’m sure Meg could recommend something… you should give her a try!”

“Maybe… I don’t know, somehow I have a strong aversion to beauty salons, that chicken yard vibe freaks me out.”

“Me too! But this place is not like that at all, that’s the other reason why I became their regular client. Meg studied psychology, she always feels without asking if I want to talk or just listen to her or I just want both of us to… you know, just shut up. She usually has good advice for every situation but not in a pushy way… she rather makes you realize what’s the right thing to do… or just points out if you’re about to make a terrible mistake without explicitly saying it.” she chuckles. “I don’t know, it’s like a sixth sense thing, she’s gifted.”

“So she’s a beauty wizard and a guru in one person.” I summarize.

“Haha, exactly. She’s simply a cool chick but for some reason, she has such a bad luck with guys, I don’t know the exact details, only that a problematic guitarist broke her heart.”

“Ha, that invasive species has kinda conquered this town…” I mutter knowingly.

“Speaking of that, do you know anything about Judy and Jeff? I ran away last time since I felt a disaster coming… she wasn’t even aware she’d been asked out… and since then, we’ve barely talked and she ignored the question when I came up with that…”

“Ugh, to be honest, I don’t know, I talked to Eric about work stuff, we’re busily preparing that free open-air show in May…” I stop since I’m not sure if I should go on. “Of course I talked to Stone as well…” I finally decide to do so but I pretend to be distracted by the traffic in the junction to have an excuse for not finishing the sentence.

“I bet he trashed my sister again, didn’t he?” she unfortunately jumps on the topic without hesitation.

“No… not really… I mean, he’s disapproving about anything romantic between them for sure but not because of Judy as a person… he just doesn’t think it’s a healthy thing right now. But he was obscure, I didn’t even understand what he was trying to say, he was babbling something about deflowering and cabal… he’s showing off his vocabulary all the time, even if it makes no sense. Especially when he’s high, maybe that was the case.”

“Deflowering? You mean my sister?” she scoffs and I can’t do anything but shrug since Stoney was truly vague, almost secretive. “The dude’s got obviously a screw loose.” she underlines the statement by circling with her index finger at the temple. “Anyway, why are you turning in that direction, aren’t we going to the management office?”

“I never claimed we’re going there.” I watch the road with a mysterious smile. “Actually, I realized after having called you that I had an errand to run so I thought you could accompany me…”

“By accompanying you mean kidnapping me and holding me hostage in your car?”

“Maybe. Open the glove compartment, I put there something for you.”

“Now you’re scaring me, is it a gun? Whoa.” she startles since after she obeys me, tons of tapes fall onto her lap.

“Ah, I get it. You’re holding me hostage and make me listen to shitty music, what are these? Tapes of Wham! tribute bands or what?” she asks checking the cases.

“Okay, you just gave me a great idea. The tapes weren’t intended for you, they are demos of bands monkeying PJ, we receive a buttload of them every week. Needless to say they all suck, could you do me a favor by listening to them for me? Kelly insists on me checking all of them, I don’t know why, though, we usually send them a polite refusal… but he thinks they deserve a chance. 99 % percent of them are indistinct yelling to worn-out riffs. What about my constitutional rights?”

“Haha, are you serious? I mean, I don’t really have any proper excuse, I have plenty of time and unfortunately, fucked-up kidneys don’t clog ears but…”

“Just kidding, I meant the folded sheets, maybe they are buried deep, just dig for them.”

“Okay, got it” she groans basically putting her head in the glovebox. “What’s that? Mr. Hugh Mility… Mr. Juan Badapple… Jim Rockford... Dr. Hugh Jeego… Guy Jantic… what the hell is this?”

“Well, since the guys are getting huge, fans are lurking at the hotels, they make up impossible lies to get their room numbers, a few of them even tried to bribe the receptionists… so it became obvious they should use codenames…”

“And who is who?”

“You missed the point, should I maybe explain the concept of codenames? What if you start stalking or harassing them?” I tease her and maybe I’m hallucinating but I’d swear I see an amused smile forming in the corner of her mouth. “Anyway, joke aside, they are pretty obvious, just think a little.”

“Wait, the list goes on… these must be the crew members… Elle Koholic, okay, this must be Carrie. Oh my god, I found my sister’s one.” she slaps herself in the forehead.

“Yeah, no offense but she’s got a one-track mind… anyway, we’ve arrived.” I announce steering the car right to the empty site next to the building.

“Are you willing to finally reveal where we are?” she asks stuffing the tapes back into their place.

“Curiosity killed the cat. Okay, I hope not, Stone would kill me.” I laugh at my own joke, fishing out the shopping bag from the backseat. “Come.”

“I don’t understand a word.” she pouts indignantly while we’re entering the building and climbing the stairs in the semi-darkness.

“I enlighten you very soon, I promise, just follow me.” I turn back to her and we fell silent until we reach our destination. “Here.” I point theatrically at the door.

“What’s this? Are you gonna buy drugs here? Or is this sort of a den of gamblers? Or…”

“Jesus, I thought you’re the adventurous one…” I roll my eyes. “Anyway, you mentioned the species of problematic guitarists… where we’re standing is the cave of a specimen from one of the subspecies.”

“…which iiiis…”

“One of the most complex inhabitant of Earth’s fauna: the rhythm guitarist!” I raise my index finger. “It’s very widespread at bars and concert venues, the male ones are inseparable from their favorite delicacy that is beer. The male living here is famous for his trademark, sarcastic remarks that are not without jokes about nether regions. During his mating season – that includes every single day of the year –, he tries to catch the attention of female specimens with the excessive flipping of his magnificent mane and his repetitive, distinctive laughter. He often leaves the location of mating right after the act, his volatile nature…”

“Wait, are you trying to say…” she cuts me off, getting tired of my improvised presentation.

“Yess.”

“No shit!”

“Yes shit. We’re at Stone’s apartment. Okay, it actually belongs to his sister but she moved in with her boyfriend last year. And Stoney got a gentle reminder from his parents that he should finally leave the family nest.”

“Hey, then maybe me and Judy are super uncool since we live with our mom too…” she frowns offended.

“It’s all about the context, first of all: he turned down Chris Cornell when he asked him to be his roommate. I repeat, Chris Cornell.” I explain, as I begin to fumble with the keys.

“What a fool!”

“I mean, I kind of understand him to a point, his parents are the dearest people I know but turning down such an offer when you’re over 20? Time went by and I think his parents just got fed of him tearing the strings at their attic all the time and coming home in the middle of the night every single day. Even if they have always been totally supportive of him, they didn’t freak out even when he announced he didn’t want to go to college… he started working as an espresso guy in a small bakery at Pioneer Square, he was the worst, by the way, I mean I almost puked of the coffee he made… He quitted that job when Mother Love Bone got signed to PolyGram and… you know what happened later. So he kind of stuck at home, indebted.”

We enter the apartment in the meantime and I take a few steps in the living room to turn on the standard lamp.

“But then, not much before the tour started, his sister let him her place over, he’s a low-key guy so…” I shrug. “Now that they became basically rock stars, he’s planning to buy a small house… his dad is an attorney-at-law with acquaintances at real estate firms, that helps a lot.”

“We had to sold our house when… a few years ago.” she sighs. I don’t ask, I guess it has to do something with her father, Karrie mentioned he’d died a few years ago. “This is a pretty nice place, I thought it was messier. No piles of beer cans, no smell of rotten food…” she remarks walking around the living room.

“Despite your impressions, he’s not a caveman, he always jokes referring to himself as an emancipated guy meaning he can and is willing to do all kind of housework. He can be pretty oblivious, though, which sometimes affects the result…” I giggle and open the windows to let in some fresh air. “His brain works in a weird way, he loses everything, all the time and forgets where he put his personal belongings and therefore never finds them again… whereas he’s pretty good at remembering riffs and melodies.”

“So this place is like a black hole. Anyway, why are we here? Wait, are we going to pull pranks on him? Let’s stick pins in the armchairs, smear tooth paste on the door handles and hide dog poop under the doormat…” she suggests with stars in her eyes. Okay, I have to do something against this hatred campaign before these wicked women cast a lethal spell on him.

“As I mentioned, I have a mission. First of all, I have to keep those poor things alive…” I point in the corner.

“Wow, a private jungle!” she exclaims surprised. “Philodendron, ficus and mother-in-law’s tongue! If someone had told me Stone liked indoor plants, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

“Actually, he sometimes forgets about their existence too. But they are real survivors, they even made it despite his girlfriend’s interesting watering methods… by the way, he even gave them names: Phil Collins, Biggus Diccus and Robert Plant, I guess I don’t have to explain…” I go on with the guided tour while I go in the kitchen to fill the coffee jug with water.

“At least the guy has a good taste in music.” she shouts. She must have found his record collection and the stereo system, I guess if something, this can soften Effie up.

“Yes, he’s surprisingly omnivorous as for musical genres…” I call back although my voice sounds muffled, since I had to basically crawl into the cupboard at the bottom for the bag of the pet food. “He’s pretty much influenced by everything he hears on the radio. Ouch!!!” I manage to bang my head when I straighten up too early.

“Are you okay?”

“I am… just a household accident…”

I walk back to the bedroom with the small bowl full of dry food only to find her staring amazed at the large star chart on the wall.

“Wow. My sister would love this.” she keeps examining it with dropped jaw, only her lips are moving.

“Well, I’ve always known they have much more in common than they think.” I grin.

“Judy had a pretty long phase when she wanted to be an astronomer… I mean, basically her in her whole childhood. She later found out physics and science weren’t really her thing but she’s still obsessed with space exploration and science fictions…”

“As you can see, Stone isn’t that beer-drinking, douchebag barfly type…” I spread my arms to point out that the walls are almost covered with bookshelves.

“Yeah, as far as I can see, he’s pretty much an intellectual asshole.” she narrows her eyes.

“AND NOW… let’s jump to the second part of my mission.” I kneel down and lift the bedspread. “Your Majesty, your subjects are only waiting for you to begin the audience.” After a few seconds of silence, two reddish paws reach out from under the bed, soon followed by a pink nose. Their owner makes sure there’s nothing dangerous in the room in full alert mode, before she crawls out slowly and rubs her snout against my hand reached out.

“Oh my god! A cat! Was she here during the whole time?” Effie screams surprised, sits down cross legged and invites her to herself making smacking sounds. “Hey sweetie… you’re very shy, aren’t you? Come here…come…”

“Effie, let me introduce you Red. Red, this is Effie. Be cautious… she can behave quite wild, especially with women…”

Despite my fears, she slowly moves towards Effie and sniffs her fingertips. After a few seconds of tense hesitation, she lets herself be caressed with that typical vigilance of cats like she was sending the message “I’m here but if you make a wrong move, you die”.

“What a beautiful fur… and those green eyes…” the girl runs her finger along the red-white spotted back. “She seems to like me…” the girl chuckles.

“One more proof that Stone’s theory was right.”

“What kind of theory?”

“Well… he adopted her not much after the forming of the band… she was just a tiny, fluffy kitten but from the very first moment, she’s acted very weird with the girls around Stone. And I don’t mean girls in general, I’m talking about his female visitors, if you know what I mean… she’s been very hostile to girls he’s dated, she’s basically driven away all the chicks he’s got hooked up with… She’s literally jealous of his love interests.”

“Interesting, I’d rather think Stone is a dog person…”

“He is, his family has always had dogs… but with Red… it was love at first sight. I’ve never seen him being as affectionate to actual girls as to Red. Even his voice softens when he’s talking to or about her… so long story short, Stone was joking that they must have been lovers in a previous life and she had been some red-haired girl who’d stolen his heart.”

“And does she like girls who hate him because they mean no competition for her?” Effie wonders as she follows the cat with her eyes who’s now approaching her bowl and gets lost in the deliciously looking pieces of meat. “It’d be an interesting experiment to introduce her to Judy.”

“Definitely, she’s never met a real female enemy of him. Maybe because girls usually like him…” I shrug.

“And is this poor thing the whole day alone?”

“Ugh, it’s a complicated story. When the guys started touring, the Gossards adopted her. Again. But they have to get rid of her, because they all are allergic to cat fur, it wasn’t that disturbing when Stone was at home too and she basically lived in the attic with him and he was the only one really taking care of her… but when he was away and they had do it for him, they quickly had to look for someone else… and then, she got to Regan, our common old friend. They got on very well with each other but then Regan and his girlfriend adopted a dog and to say they weren’t compatible is an understatement. And then…” I took a big breath “…then came the Amber phase. I don’t know if I’ve already mentioned her, she’s his girlfriend.”

“Ouch.” she hisses. “That must have been tough.”

“It was. Due to the beforementioned circumstances, their relationship was everything but smooth… she never adopted her, she just came over to feed her and all but Red was trying very hard to make her life a living hell. She attacked her, scratched her arms, hooked her nails in her tights and ruined her nicest clothes…” I list and I can’t help smiling as I recall their clashes.

“I can’t believe this cutie pie did things like that. It sounds terrible but… hey, are you laughing???”

“It was a dis… a disaster…” I’m already choking of laughter since in the meantime, Red’s innocent face makes me remember the funniest part of the story. “Once she even… oh no, I can’t…” I try to calm down and put on straight face. “Once this little bitch…” Red turns her head towards me like she felt addressed “yes, I’m talking about you… so this little bastard peed in Amber’s heels.”

“Oh no! Cat pee is the worst, it’s a one-way ticket to the dumpster. I mean only if you don’t set everything that got in contact with it on fire.”

“Well, that happened to the heels in question too. But frankly, I don’t blame Red, I myself have played with the idea of doing the same a few times too.” I shrug and have Effie in stitches.

“So you hate her too…”

“I don’t, she’s not a bad person… but she can be so annoying, man… when you have to admire the umpteenth fashion photo of her posing in different clothes, it’s very difficult to seem to be interested.”

“Uhm… speaking of photos… you said you got news for me… I didn’t want to be too greedy, I mean I really like hanging out with you and I’m not doing it only because I want your help and…” she jabbers blushing.

“Hey, easy. The news are that Kelly loved your photos. And Susan Silver too. And they have a great idea…”

[anticallouts]

in opposition to “just read a book.”

people, including myself, really need to learn to be more mindful of their assumptions and biases when they're going off on strangers on the internet. i know it is so annoying to be expected to spoonfeed your racist republican grandma basic facts about human decency, and it's so sexy and easy to drop a quippy 'tch, read a book' in lieu of doing even the tiniest amount of brainwork for some rando on the internet, but there is an inherent level of classism and plain ole’ arrogance in assuming that every person we come across has access to the same resources as we do, or even knows those resources exist. that’s what i want to talk about in this post.

running wild with the phrase ‘emotional labor’ / “don’t expect minorities to teach you things, you should learn it yourself the way we all did.”

i've been seeing 'you should just do some reading/talk to x minority' thrown around a lot lately and it is getting very frustrating for that idea to be the norm and expected end of the conversation. i freely admit, i have said the same thing in twice as many words in the past because i’d seen it around and thought it looked rational... but the problem is, when we wield this idea of self-education against people, it’s usually because they are trying to do the thing we are snarking at them to do! (or worse, it’s uncalled-for aggression in anticipation of such an event.) they are actively seeking information from a perceived knowledge-holder - whether that’s us directly or just the fact that they’re engaging with our communities - and we’re turning them away. not just that, but we’re actively shaming them for having the audacity to approach the topic and admit they don't know things. why do we do that? is it because we don't want to do the work, and so we assume no one else will and that this person is just an ignorant pest? it's fine if we don't have the time, patience, experience, or firsthand knowledge, we need to learn to just say that and leave it there. (or not engage, where i’ve seen this idea used unprompted.)

just a smackerel of hypocrisy / some uncomfortable questions

if you, like me, have made a habit of doing this, here are some questions to ask yourself: have YOU read the nameless authorless books you vaguely recommend the uninitiated go find all on their own? do YOU know what it means to just 'do some research'? would YOU know exactly where to start and what terms to use if you didn't already have that knowledge? what if you were starting from a place of misinformation? what if the information-holders were hostile to you for reasons you couldn't comprehend without the very information they were withholding? just try, for a minute, to imagine being in a position where information was not unbiased and freely accessible to you. if you know what that feels like, stop perpetuating it. if you've never experienced it, recognize that is a privilege that not everyone gets.

more uncomfortable questions / privilege isn’t a dirty word

we got our knowledge from the process of enculturation*, not from a reading list assigned to us by our various community authorities. why then do we not afford others the same opportunity, or at the very least an entry point? does their ignorance make us feel ashamed of our own (present or past)? do we not like acknowledging that we were privileged in the way we obtained our information, be it through lived experience, access to elders/insiders, uncensored education opportunities, or regular, unmonitored access to the internet in a language we can read? do we not want to face the fact that everything we know is the result of what amounts to a lucky roll of the dice, a set of right-place-right-time circumstances? sure, we may have done a lot of reading and introspection to reach the place we are today, but we had help every step of the way whether we saw it or not.

knowledge is not a finite resource

share it freely and openly, and be glad you have the privilege to do so. always be aware that your single interaction with a stranger could be the starting point that opens up a whole new world for them and gains an ally for you - or at least takes 1 more asshole out of the asshole pool. keep a recommendation in mind for times you might be speaking with the uninitiated, be that a single book you liked, or a blog you think explains issues well, or an important public figure in your community that you could point them to to learn from. crowdsource that information from your community if you can't think of any off the top of your head! it's a wonderful way to broaden your own horizons. even just being willing and able to explain basic terms and concepts in a non-judgmental way for someone who doesn't know what to google would be more helpful than the current go-to public shaming tactic.

definitions and notes

enculturation: the process by which people learn the dynamics of their surrounding culture and acquire values and norms appropriate or necessary to that culture and its worldviews. most enculturation takes place subconsciously - it’s the stuff you just absorb from the people around you when you’re in that culture all the time that teaches you the right way to think and act in that group.

i am very obviously not talking about willfully ignorant trolls. fuck them. but do make sure that’s what they actually are before you go off.

i'm not tone policing either. be sassy, be snarky, be rude, idc. 'go read stone butch blues by leslie feinberg and learn something' is still 10000x better than 'read a book'.

just to recap: be aware that not everyone has open and free access to the same reading materials as you, not even in the age of digital piracy, so try to recommend something that is a) easily accessible and b) easy to understand.

[biihoebi]

@newsiesgiftexchange

for @what-goesaround-comesaround for the Newsies Winter Gift Exchange 2020

aaaah ok so this unbetad because usually I bully you into betaing my stuff so it's quite stream of consciousness but whateverr. also maybe I took some creative liberties on the historical accuracy but who cares

(its kind of a shit show but shhhh Irish Spot)

——————————————————————–

read on ao3 here

——————————————————————–

While it was Jack's father who taught him not to starve it was his mother who taught him the value of his heritage. Which is why when the new kid at the lodging house was sitting at the end of his bed, distressed over a throwaway comment Albert had made, Jack was doing his best to comfort them.

"He said I was losing my accent" Rua had all but wailed. "How can I be Irish without me accent. And Granda said he used to have flaming hair like mine before it went dark with age. Then I won't even look Irish." they continued.

"But yer Irish by blood not by hair or by voice. I mean my hair ain't red but you'd be hard pressed tryna tell me I isn't Irish." Jack sighed. "Look, I've never stepped foot in Ireland, youse is ahead of me there, but my Mam kept it alive in the stories she told. Some were legends and some were just memories of her and her siblings getting into all sorts of trouble in the fields. And I can speak Irish just as good as the next guy, no matter what Spot Conlon says" he finished. Rua let out a short sniffle.

"But my Mam works in a factory. I never see her no more" they said wiping their face with their sleeve.

"We ain't the same, I'm Irish sure but I was born here. Youse is better off asking Spot about this, he was born in Dublin, didn't come here til he was about 8. And seeing as Albert started this whole mess he can be the one to go to Brooklyn to deliver the message after he's done selling. Now it's time for newsies to go to bed, you ain't no use selling if your half asleep." Jack declared.

——————————————————————–

To a bright eyed and bushy tailed Rua morning couldn't come soon enough and neither could the circulation bell nor could the final sell of the day. By the time Albert left for Brooklyn every newsie in Manhattan knew about it and was sick of hearing about it.

"Just because Albert's gone today, don't mean Spots gonna visit today. Heck he mightn't even visit at all. Do youse really think this is a big enough deal for the King of Brooklyn to take time out of his busy sche-

"Stop shit stirring Boots" Jack interrupted sternly. "Just because Spot doesn't like Brits like you doesn't mean he won't help out a fellow Paddy" he joked. At that Boots straightened his back

"I'll have you know Mr Kelly that Spot Conlon said I's is the best 'Brit' he knows" he said, smugly straightening an imaginary tie.

"Best of a rotten bunch" a new voice chimed in. Every newsie in the room suddenly started scrambling to look half presentable. "I got your message Kelly, now where's the young wayne?" the person continued. In response Jack stepped aside revealing Rua, who had been hiding behind his legs.

"I-I'm Rua" they stuttered out. The man crouched down to their eye level.

"I'm Spot Conlon, but I thought youse was supposed to be Irish. Where's me 'dia duit'? It's like you ain't even tryin'. No wonder youse losing yer accent" Spot said. That did nothing to help the already nervous wreck that Rua was.

Spot shot up suddenly, shooing everyone but Jack, Rua, Crutchie and Race out. He sat down on the middle bed and kicked his feet up, gesturing for everyone to follow. Ever the rebel Race decided to lean against the bunk instead while the rest settled into the surrounding beds. "Look, Jack says youse is struggling with moving on with yer life while staying Irish. I went through the same thing when I first came 'nd look at me now, King of New York"

"King of Brooklyn" Race coughed out which Spot shot daggers at him for.

"I'se is the King of New York, don't let no street rat tell you otherwise" he spat "but I wasn't always, I was once a youngin like you, fresh off the boat with only my poor parents and a sack full of stuff between us…"

——————————————————————–

The dock bustled with workers and passengers alike. Some leaving but most stepping off boats and into their new lives. Among those coming off was a young Seán Conlon. With wild hair and big eyes filled with the wonder and excitement of seeing somewhere beyond the slums of Dublin. It was an outbreak of TB amongst the tenements that did it in for his parents.

Seán didn't have long to admire the new world he had just entered before his hand was grabbed and he was dragged off into a long line filled with fellow immigrants. Hours passed before the tired young boy would make it through the front door to his new home. It was a small one room apartment completely unlivable by today's standard but to someone from the worst slums in Europe it might as well have been Buckingham. "Go bhfoire Dia orainn, tá sé linne!! Níl aon theaghlach eile ina gconaionn liomsa?" Seán gawked in awe.

"Tá, ach bí curamach, níl cead agat bí ag caint as gaeilge nuair a tá tú taobh amuigh" his father responded.

"Cén fáth?"

"Mar ní maith a lán daoiní, duine eile ag caint as gaeilge agus sin é sin a bhfuil."

"Ceart go leor"

That night Seán lay awake in his bed wondering why anyone could dislike speaking Irish. Well besides the British but Uncle Seamus always said that their opinion didn't matter and that he and a few of his friends from the Irish Republican Brotherhood would soon rid Ireland of them. Whatever that meant. His father would always laugh alongside and say 'that would be the day' while his mother would give out to him for encouraging Seamus.

It wouldn't be for a few weeks that Seán would find out what his dad was talking about. He was out selling papers to help make ends meet, as small as the room was all three of them had to work hard in order to pay for it. He stood there waiting at the gate for the circulation bell to ring, when it happened. On his first day one of the older kids taught him a few tricks and gave him a few pieces of advice. One of those pieces was 'stay away from Acton Williams'. An unspoken rule he had managed to avoid up until that point.

Acton had walked right into him, dropping a strange wooden item in the process. Seán liked to think that his mother raised him right so he apologized and bent down to pick up the trinket

"Brón orm" he mumbled as he crouched, item in hand.

"The fuck you say to me?" Acton grunted. Seán froze realising his mistake and everyone went silent at the sound of Acton's voice.

"I was just saying sorry" Seán rushed out, trying desperately not to get baited so soon after joining the newsies. Acton let out a laugh.

"That's not what you said though is it?" he said " see I think youse was speaking some stupid language from the stupid country you came from. So I'mma ask again 'the fuck you say to me?"

"I said 'brón orm', you heard me the first time," Seán said, gaining confidence. It was one thing to be intimidated by an older kid who would definitely knock your block off but his Nan taught him better than to let someone talk shite about Ireland. Acton scoffed.

"I pity the Mum who raised such a rude brat " he spat taking a step towards Seán.

"Yeah well I pity the Mam who gave birth to such an ugly ogre"

And they were off! Acton could easily outrun Seán's tiny legs so his only hope was to lose him with twists and turns through the back alleys and busy streets. After what felt like hours of running, Seán finally ran into a deadend. Turning to face a panting Acton, Seán gulped and started reciting any and all prayers he could think of to any saints that popped into his head. In fact it wasn't until Seán went to clasp his hands in prayer that he noticed what he had picked up earlier.

A slingshot!!

Grabbing the nearest rock Seán loaded the sling. 'Dear St Anthony, pleeaassee help me find the ability to aim well' he prayed as he scrunched his eyes shut and released.

The next thing Seán heard was the large thump an unconscious Actons body made as it hit the ground. Opening his eyes to examine the noise he had heard Seán was shocked to see his feeble attempt at fighting back was actually a success. Seán quickly pocketed the slingshot and left before Acton had time to wake up.

——————————————————————–

"...and that's what it means to be Irish" Spot finished proudly

"Beating up British people is what it means to be Irish?" Rua said in awe of Spot's story. Spot grinned.

"See, this kid gets it" he joked, ruffling Ruas hair.

"That was a lovely story yer highness but how is that surppsoed to help 'em keep their accent" Race chipped in.

"Well what about you then Higgins if you have so much to say? D'you have any stories worth listening to?"

"What about being Italian? Well I-"

"Italian? Are ye not Irish?"

"No? What made you think that?"

"Yer surname is Higgins"

"Yeah, Higgins is a classic Italian name"

Jack and Spot made eye contact for a good minute before bursting out laughing. "Yer telling me this entire time youse never knew you was Irish?" Jack choked out between laughs. Even Rua stifled a giggle.

"My own mam was a Higgin, Racetrack" Spot roared. "Yee just can't make this stuff up" he said wiping a tear from his eye. Race's face was a brilliant red as he sputtered out excuses.

"Yer just joking, right guys? Right guys??"

——————————————————————–

BONUS :

At the gates the next morning Seán stood there absolutely shitting bricks. What had happened yesterday had been a stroke of luck but if Acton decided to continue the fight he was dead meat.

"Wait, is that Williams? No way what's with the giant bruise on his forehead?" a voice spoke interrupting Seán's train of thought.

"No way that's a bruise, he doesn't get those" another shot back. Soon a whole symphony of voices were arguing over whether it was a bruise or not.

"Wait a minute, weren't you getting chased by him yesterday, newbie? How come there's not a scratch on ya, and why's there only a big bruise on him?" the first voice said piecing the puzzle together. Soon everyone was crowding around Seán, looking for the story of what happened.

"Look nothing really happened" Seán reassured trying to downplay the situation "he chased me for a bit before I eventually shot him with this sling and he passed out on the spot."

Apparently telling them he knocked out the bully of the newsies was not the right thing to say to defuse the situation. Some started cheering for him others just rolled their eyes at his story.

"He clearly made that up on the spot" one voice chiming in.

"Nah, look at Acton, that's a massive bruise, obviously from being shot with a sling" another rebutted. Eventually the crowd settled a bit and someone had the common sense to ask for his name.

"Oh! I'm Seán." he responded. Everyone groaned.

"Not yer real one, yer newsies one" someone said. After Seán told them he didn't have one, everyone put their thinking caps on.

"Let's call him Spot, 'cause we'll never really know if he knocked him down on the spot or made up that story on the spot."

[empathdespoina]

Social effect of unhealthy minds hurting others...

This isn’t a post in regards to being an Empath. But it does affect Empaths, because this is happening close to their home...their families, community and towns bordering your own; besides state you live in.

I was reflecting and realized that Donald Trump (I know, I know you don’t want to hear about him, but hear me out, it has a ripple effect) grew up abused by his father and mother and child abuse is something that should seriously be address; due to the mental health issues that stem from this and it’s a cycle that gets put onto the next young innocent victim, or a victim not blood related. Seeing how Trump still refuses to acknowledge that he lost, due to his psychological mindset that he’s still trying to please his father...that’s a very unsettling mindset; especially that his father died so long ago...I honestly don’t know.

So here is a man that’s in charge of a nation, that’s mentally unstable and this is causing others who have been abused as a child and NEVER got psychological help...are ever so lovely continued the sick cycle. I say this because my mother was abused by her mother as a child - it was verbal, emotional and psychological; plus my mother’s older sister (my aunt) was abused and then her sister turned it onto my mom. This has caused my mom to follow in these foot steps. Yet my mother and aunt don’t see anything wrong with the way they treat me and sadly my brother has learned to treat me very similar; but in a worst way...due to him bringing his NYPD job home and blowing up on me for no reason, and I feel he’s not to far away to unleash his physical anger on me. I have suggested to my mother on several times to go to therapy and her response is always... I’m okay there’s nothing wrong with me. As of recently my mom wants very little to do with her sister, on the way her sister treats her. I am my mother’s and brother’s emotional punching bag of dumping their bad days on me...all because I do something small that a healthy minded person would be upset; yet for these two, flip off at me as if I did something so damn horrible as if killed a wild animal in the house and destroyed the house in the process.

Now seeing how my family is...my mom likes Trump and is very pissed that he lost; due to her being very negative towards me, anytime there’s a reference around our new leaders for the nation. And the negativity outburst is nothing more than childish, but her being an adult and the years of how she destroyed my mental health on causing me to have very high stress anxiety; that if I do something similar to what would have upset her in the past...I start freaking out, in an unsettling reaction. Reason why? Because spilling a drink on the floor isn’t a big deal for healthy minded people. Yet for my mother it was the straw that broke the camel’s back and completely lost it with me. My father tried his best to protect me when he was alive; yet reflecting on the past and understanding my mother’s past; he was most likely abused along the same line like me, due to his last famous words to my mother, as he died from cancer: “You did this to me and put me here!” Which I believe was him lashing out on the abuse she did to him and it was always a passive aggressive to then shouting and bringing up every damn past mistake and making you feel worthless and that you’re nothing more then an embarrassment to her. Since she’s always concern of how others perceive her, due to the fact she never was popular in high school and that mindset still hasn’t been let go...seeing how she was ecstatic when my brother was the popular kid back in the day, in school and she could hang out with the popular moms. -face palms herself-

Having a mentally sick man as our president who won’t admit to losing or that he’s fucked up because yeah he was abused as a child...since around that time, it was considered ACCEPTABLE. Now you’re getting all these other people who were abused as a child and mentally sick to be encourage to let all this out, let all the abuse out and to hurt others. To attack people out of nowhere to let racism fly. But for some people at home, to deal with those we know, are getting worst than they were before...all because they admire this man like a Korean Idol or a Kardashian. The most dangerous ones are who are less educated; then following under that is people (more now my mother’s age group compared to my age group...to an extent on my age group), who are getting addicted to FB - which has always used ads and fake news to convince people of what the democrats are doing and to believe everything the republicans are saying...when what they are saying, is very dangerous school of thought; for these people to become nothing more than sheep that can rage and hurt others without a care; since Trump has been doing that in the public eye and social media.

Trump doesn’t want to hear the truth and those who don’t agree with him and make it known on news channels...where he takes comfort in social media; which he can easily bend those to his thought process and believe in it. I shit you not my mother believes in this thought process; which I believe is from FB. She’s now on FB more often and her friend who is too (the one that’s got chemical brain and talks to her daily)...that the three red strips in Biden’s campaign design is related to China...because some asshole who wanted to stir things up and cause chaos; when Biden was mimicking Obama’s campaign design. I couldn’t tell my mother other wise due to her hard belief in this...and this was a woman, who years ago when my father died- she did massive research on the pesticides that cause my dad’s cancer, which lead to his death. And she would always look into things. Yet due to her being chair bound as her ankle heals...she’s been on social media more and more; which I am not addict to social media like I was to an extent 10yrs ago. She believes in the republicans on what the democrats are going to do, on making our American country into one of socialism and the socialism very that is being inferred is the one in which we have no rights. Then there was another time this reference was brought up- note by my mothers and believing that by destroying all the stores, would cause this country to quickly turn into a socialism nation. I told her we have three branches of government and it isn’t going to change, due to how the three branches of government works. She replies go ahead and believe that it will stay the same, once Biden is in office.

This is what I mean about a ripple effect of these dangerous school of thoughts and to be violent to others and keep the cycle of abuse going. My mother is a woman who could think for herself...yet these past four years under Trump it’s more of the social media fake news to scare people in buying guns...in order to “protect” themselves from an uprising of the minorities; who will come and attack our home and to protect ourselves... I am not making this up - this actually came out of my mother’s mouth when I question my mothers on why my brother had three guns and a SNIPER RIFFLE. And the other push for buying guns that Democrats would ban guns-  this causing my brother to buy so much damn ammo for his “guns” that he can be his own militia army...where these people are too stupid to realize the rights to have guns is within our 10 Amendments. It is as if no one remembers our Amendments and how our three branches of government works any more of history.

And if I have to show you dangerous school of thought to cause chaos look to the dr who lost his medical license due to things that endanger a patient, because he was putting his believes onto this woman...instead of the best care to help her. He went on social media on video saying the 5G towers were “causing the COVID” and he would go on and on about it...where he’s clearly not right in the head...but of course you have mental sick idiots who will believe someone that “appears” smarter than them. And what did they do...they went around in Europe and destroying those 5G towers.

Trump’s legacy should be of a different social experiment (which they refereed to the prohibition), on how a man could use social media to bend people to his unhealthy thought process and make others stupid to believe in everything he says. Look how some republicans are believing the election is a fraud still, due to Trump losing, and this is a man who’s always got his way and his energy aura has to be very intimating for no one to say “NO” to him. For an other average person to pull the same shit off as Trump; would be arrested in a heartbeat, yet they are afraid of this man. Which I believe, when it comes time for him to leave office and we know he won’t go peacefully; to get a trank-gun and shoot him with it; then put a straight jacket on him and haul him away to a really heavily secured mental ward. Trump has caused healthy minded people to do things, that were not seen under Obama and Bush’s time in office. I only pick them, due to the fact I was more aware of how the president worked and being able to vote. Trump is a mental disease in his own way and to see others catch this and treat those around them...like Trump treats others, as if they are beneath his feet. I don’t know how much more rage outbursts that I’m going to have to deal with, in regards to my mother as this year ends and Biden will soon be in office. Plus keep in mind, I am the only one of her two children home (due to can’t find a job) to help her out and drive her around and she treats me like this...also I wasn’t the one who left something in my mother’s path of walking for her to fall and hurt herself, it was my brother. Yet he’s not helping out as much more, due to him being happy that his back working Narcotics unit; since he was desked for awhile due to he, himself breaking his leg and ankle of the right side a year ago from mom hurting herself.

I am really concern seeing what this nation has become and seeing how my mother and brother are on board with the words coming out of Trump’s mouth; especially my mom’s friend. I guess I felt compelled to write out my fear on seeing this...awhile ago, I read two articles that psychoanalyzed Trump by some professional therapist, as they watched and observed him on tv and looked into his history, on the life he had growing up. I honestly don’t know how long it will take to make society more...I honestly can’t find the right word....less violent and more willing to hurt others in a sick twisted obsession...? Yet that still happens in this world...maybe I’m looking for is......less negative fuel to fuel the monsters that are wearing masks and are two face to people...pretending by day to be a respectable person of society and when not watched by those people...take the mask off and reveal the monster underneath willing to hurt others; as they see Trump has done, and what he’s encourage to happen in this country.

So if you have family members, friends or co-workers/bosses who have similar thought process like my family... try your best to endure it and make sure you have something you can discreetly touch to ground you... or go for more pee breaks and just say you’re body’s off...if you get questioned.

[etherealwaifgoddess]

Run To You - Chpt.2

Summary: Steve calls Bucky to tell him he was right and the two get to know each other a little more. Still drawn to one another, the guys go out on their first date. Master list is HERE :)

Content Warning: mention of past child neglect/ abuse in regards to how Bucky lost his arm. It’s only a couple paragraphs but it’s depressing AF. 

Word Count: 3.3k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! There is a smidge of angst in this chapter and I had never really intended for it go that direction. Damn characters not behaving the way I want them to! I apologize in advance for giving you some sad feels on this one, I got myself with them too. But hopefully there’s enough fluffiness to balance it out. XOXO - Ash

Chapter Two

Becca sleeps the day away but it’s a restless fever ridden sleep with her waking up every few hours to cry that her stomach hurts. Bucky manages to catch cat naps while she sleeps but they’re both exhausted by the time the day is over. He manages to get some fluids in her once she’s fully woken up and she keeps most of it down, much to Bucky’s relief. He hates seeing his baby girl sick and is thankful for his medical training, so that he knows what to expect and look out for. It’s just past seven o’clock at night and while they would normally be doing Becca’s bath time routine, he doesn’t have the heart to disrupt her. She finally drank the rest of her Pedialyte and is half watching an episode of Wonder Pets while her eyes droop sleepily. He waits until her eyes stay shut for a few minutes before awkwardly scooping up the little girl to carry her off to bed. He doesn’t have a free hand to turn off the TV, having taken off his prosthetic the second he got back from the bodega, but figures he needs to go back out to clean things up for the night anyways. 

“Bucky?” Becca slurs sleepily as he lays her down in her bed. 

“Yeah, Becs?” He pulls up her comforter, getting it tucked tightly around her body like she prefers. 

“Love you.” she half says, half yawns. 

Bucky fights back the tears that prickle in the corner of his eyes. “Love you too, bug. Get some rest.”

Becca gives a little nod and then sprawls out into her usual sleeping position. 

Bucky shuts off her lamp and closes the door, leaving it open just a crack in case she needs him in the night. She seems to be getting to the otherside of whatever virus she’d caught but he knows it isn’t always a sure thing. He hopes he’ll only have to miss one day of work staying home with her but knows it’ll most likely be two.

There isn’t too much of a mess to clean up but Bucky busies himself with turning off the TV and clearing the coffee table. He’s washing the dishes and debating his dinner options when his phone buzzes angrily in his back pocket. Drying off his hand, he pulls out his phone and sees Steve’s name on the screen. Bucky swipes to accept the call and nestles the phone between his shoulder and jaw. “Hey, Steve.” 

“Bucky, hey.” Steve replies eagerly. “So I’ve spent the last six hours doing nothing but reading history articles and I gotta say, you were right.” 

Bucky smiles as he rifles through his cabinets for something to eat, “I suspected as much. How far off is it? Out of curiosity.” 

Steve sighs heavily through his nose and Bucky wondered how exasperated the other man must look. “It’s pretty fuckin’ terrible.” he finally admits.

Bucky laughs, “Wow, you really do know how to curse!” 

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, ya jerk. It was just… surprising, I guess, to see how much these so-called experts missed. Don’t get me wrong, I know some people had it okay and some people had it a lot worse, but the way they make the whole thing feel so… sterile... I don’t know. They don’t seem to capture the feel of the times. Like yes we had food rations, but they don’t tell you how small those rations were. And how even if you got your stamps you might not be able to find the food you had a stamp for. My mother had to go all the way to Queens one time just to buy eggs so we’d have something with protein to eat.”

“That sounds terrible, I can’t even imagine.” Bucky juggles the phone carefully as he pulls down a tin of tuna. 

“We made it, somehow. And it wasn’t all terrible all the time, but it was a sight worse than they make it out to be. It’s like that now too, isn’t it? The world isn’t quite as progressive as people like to think it is?” 

Bucky pauses, trying to sort out his words. “It is and it isn’t. I think my experience is a little different than most but it’s definitely not the rainbows and goodwill that they say it is.” 

Steve’s voice is low and rich like good bourbon pouring across the phone lines. “Tell me what it’s like for you, then.” 

Bucky stills, shocked by the raw earnestness of Steve’s words. There’s an undercurrent too, like something whispered in a lover’s ear in the dead of night. It stirs things inside Bucky that he hasn’t had the time or inclination for in a really long time. Figuring he should reciprocate the honesty Steve has afforded him so far, Bucky hops up to sit on the kitchen counter and gets himself comfortable to tell his story. “Well, I grew up in a little backwater town in Indiana. The biggest export of our town was meth and most everyone was affected by that. People used religion like a weapon and thought The Republican Way was gospel. I didn’t fit in to any of that from day one and it made growing up there hard.” 

“What were you like as a kid?” Steve asks, curious.

“I was pretty much everything that town wasn’t. My parents weren’t really able to take care of me so I figured out early on how to care for myself. I was angry a lot because of that once I got older. I didn’t really try to fit in. I studied hard, worried about getting good grades so I could earn scholarships to a decent college and get out of there. I didn’t care much about religion and was fiercely liberal from the time I understood what politics were. And I’m queer, that didn’t help me fit in either. I, uh, I hope that doesn’t bother you.” Bucky falters, knowing Steve’s generation was a lot less forgiving about that sort of thing. 

“It doesn’t. I’m bi, actually. We did have homosexuality back in the thirties despite what the historians think.” 

“Holy shit.” Bucky blurts out. Captain America is bisexual. 

“It’s not something that comes up a lot, but I don’t hide it when asked. Somehow it never seems to make the news though.” 

“I think it would seriously fuck with some people’s world view if it did. That’s good, though. That you don’t have to hide it. It’s one of those things that isn’t quite like the news reports it. Sure, things are a hell of a lot better now for queer folk, but we still get bullied, discriminated against, sometimes even killed.” Despite himself, Bucky yawns deeply. He’s beyond tired but unwilling to hang up. 

“You sound exhausted.” Steve notes, “I should let you go.”

“No, it’s okay. I just had a long night followed by a long day. I’ll crash soon and hopefully Becca sleeps in tomorrow.” 

“Becca is your… daughter?” 

“My sister, actually. I adopted her when she was born. She feels like she’s mine but I never wanted to hide that fact that I’m her brother, not her dad. I don’t want her growing up not knowing who she really is.”

“You’re pretty amazing, Buck.” And Steve means every weighted word of it. 

Bucky shakes his head, almost dislodging his phone in the process. “Just got lucky enough to make a better life for myself, and her. That’s all.” 

“I think there’s a lot more to it than that, but okay. Really though, I should let you go. We can talk another day? Maybe grab that lunch together?” 

“Yeah, definitely. My schedule is a little crazy but I have off rotation in a few days, we could go out Thursday while Becca’s at preschool?”

“It’s a date. I’ll text you later this week so we can figure out the where and when.” 

“Sounds like a plan. Night, Steve.” 

The warm smile on Steve’s face practically shines through the phone line, “Night, Buck.” 

Bucky hangs up and stares around his tiny apartment in amazement. If you had told him a week ago that he was going to insult Captain America to his face and end up befriending him, he would have called you crazy. It’s a little odd having to separate the public persona he knows as Captain America, from Steve, the real guy under the cowl, but Bucky is looking forward to getting to know the real him better. 

xxXxx

“The best pizza in Brooklyn, huh?” Steve questions, squinting up at the shop’s sign. 

Bucky nods enthusiastically. “Definitely. They still use the old fashioned brick ovens and homemade sauce. Fresh herbs, locally sourced cheese. It sounds fancy but it’s really just good, old school, pizza.” 

“We’ll see. Sam recently introduced me to the concept of a dollar slice, and I think anything will be better than that.” 

“Oh man, yeah. Some places are decent, but most are shit.”

Bucky and Steve order a large pie to share, picking a small table in the back to sit at. Steve is amused when he spots a cooler with real glass bottles of soda and grabs one for each of them. Bucky smiles when he sees the bottles, able to guess Steve’s amusement at seeing something familiar. 

The pizza is up before they know it and Steve is moaning at the first bite. “Sorry.” he mumbles around his mouthful of gooey cheese. “It’s really good.” 

Bucky swallows quickly so he can respond, “Told ya.” 

Steve nods, properly contrite. “You did. Thanks for bringing me here.” 

“Any time.” Bucky smiles over at him and wonders what it would be like if they were out on a real date. One that ended with Steve walking him home and kissing him goodnight. He tries to shake the fantastical idea from his mind but it lingers, coming to the surface whenever Steve looks at him a little longer than most would find polite. 

They’re quiet through Steve’s first two slices, Bucky finishing his first as Steve goes for a third. Bucky has a healthy appetite but Steve is something else. “Super soldier, sorry.” Steve tells him with a shrug when he sees Bucky eyeing up his plate.

“No judgement here. Everyone’s gotta eat.” Bucky assures him. 

Steve slows down enough to make conversation after a little while, asking Bucky questions about his job and Becca. Steve is infinitely impressed with Bucky’s job as an ER nurse considering his mother had been a nurse and he knows first hand what a toll that profession can take on people. 

Bucky catches Steve glancing at his sleek metal prosthetic but the blonde is too polite to bring it up. “You can ask, you know. Most people just make assumptions about it, none of which are even close to the truth.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve apologizes, “I didn’t want to be rude.” 

“You’re not. It’s not my favorite topic but I’m better talking about it now. Go ahead, ask.”

Steve hesitates but trusts Bucky to know his own mind. “Okay, then. Bucky, how did you lose your arm?” 

Bucky takes a steadying breath and dives into the polite for public version of how he lost his left arm. His parents took him to the lake one summer when he was six, he’d begged for months and they finally agreed to drive out to spend a day there. He got a scratch on his arm and it got infected from the lake water. His parents weren’t too great on the whole “parenting” thing and didn’t notice when it got infected until he collapsed. At that point the arm was too far gone and the doctors had amputated it just above the elbow. 

What Bucky leaves out is that the scratch had actually been a gash and he’d gotten a beating for being careless before they headed for home. Sitting sorely in the backseat the whole bumpy ride home, using his own tshirt to wrap around his arm to help slow the bleeding. It was his transformers tshirt and it had been his favorite. Bucky leaves out the week of agonizing pain as the gash got worse, the infection burning and itching horribly until he couldn’t handle it anymore. Both of his parents were too strung out to notice and he’d tried, the best he could at that age, to put band-aids on it but then he caught another beating for using up all the band-aids. Bucky doesn’t tell Steve that the days he spent in the hospital were some of the best he could remember back then. The nurses were nice and brought him hot food three times a day. On Friday an ice cream cart came around. There were books he could read and other kids he could play with. When it was time for him to go home, he’d cried the entire way. 

Bucky notices Steve is staring at him expectantly and realizes he's gone silent, lost in the less than pleasant memories. “Sorry, it was a long time ago.” he clears his throat, pushing past the ugly memories and moving on, “I got this bad boy through a grant from a children’s hospital when I was fifteen. It was strange having two arms at first. Up until that point I’d spent most of my life with just the one. It was after that hospital stint that I decided on nursing. The nurses who cared for me during both of my hospital stays were just amazing. They took what could have been really scary experiences and made them into something good. I wanted to be able to do that for someone else, someday.” 

“Nurses are definitely superheroes.” Steve acknowledges. “My ma worked in the TB ward when I was a kid. She just had this way about her that she could spin any negative life threw at her into a positive. She was incredible. And I wasn’t an easy kid by any means.”

“Yeah, I heard something about that in the history books. Something about you being a feisty little shit always getting himself in trouble.” Bucky smirks, waiting for Steve to dispute it.

“It wasn’t quite as bad as they say it was. I only broke up a handful of fights over the years and always bullies who deserved it. I was as sick as they claimed though. The medical records were all real and my poor ma worked herself to the bone just trying to keep my lungs and heart going.”

“I feel for her. Even with medical training, it’s awful watching your kid get sick. Becca has some issues, she was born premature, and even though I know exactly what’s an annoyance versus a true issue, it’s still so hard watching her struggle.” 

Steve’s expression falls, “I’m so sorry, Buck.” He reaches out across the table on impulse and grasps Bucky’s hand in his. “What, uh... if you don’t mind me asking, what issues does she have? You’ve seen my list and part of that was from being a preemie myself. It’s not like mine, is it?” 

Bucky wants to melt through the booth into a puddle at the warm heavy contact of Steve’s hand over his. “No, not quite so bad. Her immune system isn’t the greatest, she has asthma that we have relatively under control, a heart murmur that the docs still think will close as she gets older, she’s anemic but has meds for it, and she’s never quite been out of the danger zone on the growth chart. She’s just a tiny little thing, but she's the cutest little girl you’ll ever lay eyes on.”  

“I have no doubt. She’s really lucky he has you.” 

They’re quiet for a moment, nothing to fill the silence but Steve’s thumb rubbing rhythmically over the ridges of Bucky’s knuckles. “Sorry, I didn’t exactly pick the happiest first date topics, did I?” Steve forces a painfully awkward laugh, taking back his hand as he tries to think of a less serious topic for them.

“First date, huh?” Bucky grins despite himself. 

Steve blushes from the tips of his ears down past his collar and Bucky wonders just how far down that blush goes. “It doesn’t have to be. Unless you want it to be one. I had a really great time, regardless. I don’t get out mu-”

“Steve!” Bucky cuts him off, waving his hand in surrender. “Breathe a minute so I can answer.” he pauses and Steve takes a slightly dramatic breath, shooting Bucky a wry smile. “There we go. I had a really great time too. And yes, I’d like it if this was a date. And if there are more dates following this one.” 

“Oh,” Steve is rendered speechless by the warmth blossoming in his chest. “That would be swell.” 

“Swell? Really?” Bucky laughs in disbelief. 

Steve’s blush flares to life again. “Sorry, sorry. Old man word, I know. What are the kids using these days? Nifty?” 

Bucky groans, “Cool, Steve. Just stick with cool.” 

“Okay, cool.” Steve sasses playfully. 

Bucky rolls his eyes before checking his watch. It’s almost time to go get Becca, they had spent two hours talking and it still feels like not enough time. “Shit. I gotta head out for Becca. Preschool lets out at three.” 

“Not a problem, I’d say I’m sorry for keeping you so long but I really enjoyed myself.” Steve snatches the paper slip with their bill on it and hurries over to the counter to pay. “You were right, so lunch is on me.” he insists.

“That’ll teach you not to bet against me, huh?” Bucky quips.

“I don’t know. This worked out pretty well for me. I learned a lot of new stuff, broadened my perspective on some things, went out with a cute guy, ate the best pizza in Brooklyn, and it sounds like I’ll get to go out with that cute guy again. I think this turned out pretty good.” 

Bucky laughs and gives him a playful shove as they leave the pizza shop together. They pause along the brick wall of the shop, neither man wanting to part ways just yet. “I don’t have off rotation for another three days but I’d like to see you again.” Bucky says, toying with the hem of his shirt. He feels like a damn teenager again. 

“Whenever you want, Bucky. My schedule is flexible unless I get called away for a long mission. I’ll take whatever time you’re willing to share with me.” Steve doesn’t want to push, but he’s willing to do whatever he needs to in order to see Bucky again. 

“I appreciate that. I know my schedule isn’t traditional but it’s my life for right now.” 

“And that’s okay.” Steve assures him, though he looks pretty nervous suddenly. He clears his throat twice before he finally asks, “Would it be too fast if I asked to kiss you right now?” 

Bucky’s pupils flare at the question, his reaction answering Steve before his voice does. “Not at all.” he murmurs moving closer to Steve.

Steve’s lips are a breath away from Bucky’s as he whispers “Oh good” and takes the kiss that Bucky so freely gives. Steve fights for composure, they’re on a public sidewalk for heaven’s sake. Bucky’s mouth slots against his like missing puzzle pieces, both warm and insistent as the kiss deepens. 

Steve kisses like he’s drowning and Bucky is reeling to keep up. How something so innocent turned so quickly is beyond comprehension but Bucky doesn’t want it to stop. The alarm on his phone reminding him it’s pick up time for Becca ends things quickly though. “I’ve gotta get Becca. Like, now.” he breathes raggedly against Steve’s mouth. 

“Okay. Okay.” Steve repeats like he’s convincing himself. “To be continued?” 

“To be continued.” Bucky agrees, leaning in for one last quick peck and then heading off to go pick up Becca.

[idairsauthor]

This Fcking Trial, Episode 2: Being Alive

CONN: Senator Collins just announced that she was going to vote to call witnesses.

PLAIDDER: That’s still only 48 people IF Manchin doesn’t do his fucking Manchin thing. Go away.

ETHIR: Don’t talk to him that way.

PLAIDDER: It gets worse!

ETHIR: I have a question and I really need to know the answer right now.

PLAIDDER: I guess in cyberspace it’s always time for freagair.

ETHIR: Who in the green earth or under it is Alan Dershowitz?

PLAIDDER: Ethir. This is unworthy of you. The night before all hope is lost, you come into my house and you ask me to dredge up from the cesspool into which they have subsided my totally 80s memories of celebrity lawyer, self-appointed gadfly, and massive narcissist Alan Dershowitz?!

ETHIR: I do.

PLAIDDER: Ethir, last night I saw Just Mercy, a film based on a real-life case in which a young lawyer named Bryan Stevenson devoted years of his life to obtaining a new trial for an innocent man who was framed by corrupt racist cops for a crime he didn’t commit, prosecuted for that crime by a corrupt racist DA, and given a bonus death sentence by a corrupt racist judge. Unlike most real-life stories in which underfunded young lawyers take on entire power structures, this one actually has a happy ending, and an innocent man who’s spent six years on death row for no good reason is eventually returned to his family. I think you should get a bucket of popcorn and some caffeine-free soda and go watch this movie. You will enjoy it.

ETHIR: But--

PLAIDDER:  I want you to go watch that movie, and then I want you to come back here. And then, when I tell you that Alan Dershowitz got famous in the 1980s for finding a way to get the conviction of a European billionaire who most likely murdered his diabetic wife thrown out and get him a new trial at which he was acquitted based on problems with handling of the evidence, and then gave a dinner party to celebrate which Alan Dershowitz attended and wrote about in his book Reversal Of Fortune which by the way was made into a TV movie in 1990 which I actually to my everlasting shame saw--when I tell you all this, and then tell you that Alan Dershowitz thinks that makes him Bryan fucking Stevenson, you will fully understand my rage. 

ETHIR: All right.

PLAIDDER: In the meantime, can we not talk about how Alan Dershowitz’s narcissism has set fire to the last shreds of our Constitution?

CONN: But that’s exactly what I’m most hopeful about.

PLAIDDER: That...BLOWHARD forgot that he’s not in a damn trial court where the worst he could do to the world is set one rich and guilty asshole free. To satisfy his insatiable fucking ego, that man just burned down the rule of law.

CONN: No, he didn’t. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. He’s actually made things better.

PLAIDDER: This oughta be good.

CONN: All along we’ve been talking about that moment when everyone stops pretending. The moment when people just drop the mask for good and all and they just stop caring about whether people see their atrocities or not. We talked about that in July when that Congressional delegation went to see the detention camps at the border. You must have a clip of that somewhere.

PLAIDDER: OK, I found it:

CONN: Their lack of fear, that’s the worst sign. The fact that they don’t fear exposure. The fact that they’re not worried about the rest of the world finding out what they’ve done. Because that tells you that they know they’re protected. And that means they have no reason to stop. Not just that. They have no reason not to make it worse. No reason not to invent new indignities. No reason not to entertain themselves with making more misery.

PLAIDDER: That’s something I’ve always been afraid of. The moment when the state decides it doesn’t have to pretend any more. Theamh is afraid of that moment too–you know–on the magical side. That’s why that battle at Slieve was so important. It forced the corrupt government to go on pretending for a while. As long as they were pretending, there were certain limits to what they were able to do. Theamh and everyone else worked so hard to keep those limits in place.

CONN: You’re right to be afraid of that moment.  

CONN: And you’re afraid that this moment has now come.

PLAIDDER: It has. This is it. 53 Republican Senators--

CONN: Fifty-two--

PLAIDDER: Conn, you are on my LAST NERVE tonight. Fifty-two Republican Senators are about to vote to endorse the idea that the President can rig an election and nobody can do a thing about it.

CONN: No. They won’t be. Because Dershowitz and friends have already retracted that argument.

PLAIDDER: They can’t retract it now. Fox News has a hold of it. The Republican Senators have a hold of it. It’s out there and it’s going to become the new normal.

CONN: You’re not listening to me. THEY WALKED IT BACK. They realized they HAD to walk it back. Because 53 Republican Senators are not ready for this moment.

PLAIDDER: I bet 51 of them are.

CONN: No. That...circus act...that your President calls a legal team has withdrawn that defense because they now realize that these Republican Senators still want to pretend. And where there’s pretense, there’s hope.

PLAIDDER: Yeah, well I just refreshed the WaPo page and we lost Lamar Alexander, so I’m gonna go scream into the night now.

CONN: There’s still--

PLAIDDER: Don’t you get it? These assholes have got together and worked out exactly how it’s going to go down and what will happen is that they will let Collins, Murkowski and Romney vote for witnesses so there’s a 50-50 tie and then Roberts will refuse to cast the tiebreaking vote and there will be no witnesses and the whole thing will be over tomorrow. These people are not taking a stand, they are saving face in the most weaselly way possible. 

CONN: But surely you realize that it doesn’t matter any more whether they call witnesses or not.

PLAIDDER: I DO NOT realize that.

CONN: They don’t have to make Bolton testify. As soon as Alan Dershowitz made that argument, he admitted that your President has done everything he’s been accused of. Everyone saw that, everyone knows that. Anyone who will ever be willing to vote for removal will vote for removal now. And the people who will never be willing to vote for removal will never be convinced no matter how many witnesses you call.

PLAIDDER: So this is it. He gets acquitted. And I SWEAR TO GOD if you say “not yet” ONE MORE TIME--

CONN: All right, I won’t say it.

PLAIDDER: You won’t?

CONN: No. I won’t. Acquittal is what you always expected. That’s is what you always knew was probably going to happen.

PLAIDDER: BUT YOU TOLD ME NOT YET!!!

CONN: MAKE UP YOUR MIND! Or let me go back into the void! I never asked to be dragged out here to this horrible place.

PLAIDDER: Yeah, I’m not gonna watch any more of my favorite characters go through the door to oblivion tonight, friend.

CONN: 67 votes for removal was always an unrealistic threshold. It’s never been done before, I understand.

PLAIDDER: No.

CONN: Trust me when I say this, friend. They overreached. That always has consequences.

PLAIDDER: How can they overreach when they are about to take a vote that will ensure that their party will always have unlimited power?

CONN: That’s not what that vote is going to ensure.

PLAIDDER: Then what will it ensure?

CONN: That your president never gets a second term. And neither will many of them. 

PLAIDDER: Why should I believe you?

CONN: Look at what the Democrats in Congress have been able to do. They dragged that mac na mhada to the brink of removal. Where is your appreciation for Adam Schiff, who got up there day after day and told the actual truth?

PLAIDDER: You mean the “you know you can’t” speech.

CONN: Yes. That and many others. Because the thing is: they DO know they can’t. They definitely know that now. 

PLAIDDER: What does it matter? They will never cross him.

ETHIR: Hey, I’m back.

PLAIDDER: So you see what I mean about Alan Dershowitz.

ETHIR: Actually I saw something totally different.

PLAIDDER: What?

ETHIR: You know that scene where Ralph Myers takes the stand at that hearing and he tells everyone that he lied at that first trial?

PLAIDDER: Yes.

ETHIR: And he’s scared to do it. But once he does it, you can see the whole man come back to life. He’s told the truth and now no matter what happens to him, he doesn’t care, because he’s alive now. I mean you wrote our story but you spend all your time on the shriias, you’ve never really thought about how ordinary people experience the truth. I will tell you, I’ve seen a lot of people lie in court and I’ve seen a lot of people tell the truth and there is no comparison. Telling the truth is magic for us too. It’s...it’s being alive.

PLAIDDER: Anthony Scaramucci, of all people, has said as much.

ETHIR: I wish Theamh could have seen Slythe during the trial. She would have been so proud of her. Still an ordinary woman, but once she caught a hold of the truth again she never let it go. She understood it better than I can explain it. You could see it when you looked at her. I think she knew there was a good chance they would kill her. But it was worth it to her, just for that feeling of being alive. Humans are humans. They need joy. They need to feel alive. 

PLAIDDER: How are you making me cry when I don’t believe EITHER of you?

CONN: It’s like your Nancy Pelosi always says. Patience and time.

PLAIDDER: That was Kutuzov in War and Peace.

CONN: Well she doesn’t say it. But she knows it. She dragged this process out as long as she could safely drag it and what can be exposed has been exposed. Whatever happens tomorrow, you got more out of this than anyone expected. Be mindful of that. And just...be all right. All right?

PLAIDDER: All right. I guess this will be our last episode.

CONN: Maybe not y--

PLAIDDER: THANK YOU AND GOODNIGHT.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Pluralist, your daily link-dose: 22 Feb 2020

Today’s links

Tax Justice Network publishes a new global Financial Secrecy Index: US and UK, neck-and-neck

What Marc Davis lifted from the Addams Family while designing the Haunted Mansion: Amateurs plagiarize, artists steal

ICANN should demand to see the secret financial docs in the .ORG selloff: at least it’s an Ethos

Wells Fargo will pay $3b for 2 million acts of fraud: they shoulda got the corporate death penalty

This day in history: 2019, 2015, 2010

Colophon: Recent publications, current writing projects, upcoming appearances, current reading

Tax Justice Network publishes a new global Financial Secrecy Index (permalink)

The Tax Justice Network just published its latest Financial Secrecy Index, the leading empirical index of global financial secrecy policies. The US continues to make a dismal showing, as does the UK (factoring in overseas territories).

https://fsi.taxjustice.net/en/

Both Holland and Switzerland backslid this year.

Important to remember that “bad governance” scandals in poor countries (like the multibillion-dollar Angolaleaks scandal) involve rich financial secrecy havens as laundries for looted national treasure.

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2020/jan/19/isabel-dos-santos-revealed-africa-richest-woman-2bn-empire-luanda-leaks-angola

As Tax Justice breaks it down: “The secrecy world creates a criminogenic hothouse for multiple evils including fraud, tax cheating, escape from financial regulations, embezzlement, insider dealing, bribery, money laundering, and plenty more. It provides multiple ways for insiders to extract wealth at the expense of societies, creating political impunity and undermining the healthy ‘no taxation without representation’ bargain that has underpinned the growth of accountable modern nation states. Many poorer countries, deprived of tax and haemorrhaging capital into secrecy jurisdictions, rely on foreign aid handouts.”

Talk about getting you coming and going! First we make bank helping your corrupt leaders rob you blind, then we loan you money so you can keep the lights on and get fat on the interest (and force you to sell off your looted, ailing state industries as “economic reforms”).

The Taxcast, which is the Network’s podcast, has a great special edition in which the index’s key researchers explain their work. It’s always a good day when a new Taxcast drops.

https://www.taxjustice.net/2020/02/20/financial-secrecy-index-who-are-the-worlds-worst-offenders-the-tax-justice-network-podcast-special-february-2020/

What Marc Davis lifted from the Addams Family while designing the Haunted Mansion (permalink)

It’s always a good day — a GREAT day — when the Long Forgotten Haunted Mansion blog does a new post, but today’s post, on the influence of the Addams Family TV show on Mansion co-designer Mark Davis? ::Chef’s Kiss::

https://longforgottenhauntedmansion.blogspot.com/2020/02/the-addams-family-and-marc-davis.html

It’s clear that Davis was using Addams’s comics as reference, but, as Long Forgotten shows, the Davis sketches and concepts are straight up lifted from the TV show: “Amateurs plagiarize, artists steal.”

Some of these lifts are indisputable.

“Finally, it’s possible that Davis took a further cue from the insanely long sweater Morticia is knitting in ‘Fester’s Punctured Romance’ (Oct 2, 1964), but in this case I wouldn’t insist upon it.”

Likewise, from the TV show, “Bruno” the white bear rug that periodically bites people was obviously the inspiration for this Davis sketch for the Mansion. Long Forgotten is less certain about “Ophelia,” but I think it’s pretty clear where Davis was getting his ideas from here.

Davis was an unabashed plunderer and we are all better for it! “We’ve seen many other examples of Marc Davis taking ideas from here, there, and anywhere he could find them, but not many other examples of multiple inspiration from a single source.”

ICANN should demand to see the secret financial docs in the .ORG selloff (permalink)

ISOC — the nonprofit set up to oversee the .ORG registry — decided to sell off this asset (which they were given for free, along with $5M to cover setup expenses) to a mysterious private equity fund called Ethos Capital.

Some of Ethos’s backers are known (Republican billionaire families like the Romneys and the Perots) but much of its financing remains in the shadows. We do know that ICANN employees who help tee up the sale now work for Ethos, in a corrupt bit of self-dealing.

The deal was quietly announced and looked like a lock, but then public interest groups rose up to demand an explanation. Not only could Ethos expose nonprofits to unlimited rate-hikes (thanks to ICANN’s changes to its rules), they could do much, much worse.

If a .ORG registrant dropped its domain, Ethos could sell access to misdirected emails and domain lookups – so if you watchdog private equity funds and get destroyed by vexation litigation, Ethos could sell your bouncing email to the billionaires who crushed you.

More simply, Ethos could sell the kind of censorship-as-a-service it currently sells through its other registry, Donuts, which charges “processing fees” to corrupt governments and bullying corporations who want to censor the web by claiming libel or copyright infringement.

Ethos offered ISOC $1.135b for the sale, but $360m of that will come from a loan that .ORG will have to pay back, a millstone around its neck, dragging it down. Debt-loading healthy business as a means of bleeding them dry is a tried-and-true PE tactic – it’s what did in Toys R Us, Sears, and many other firms. The PE barons get a fortune, everyone else gets screwed.

The interest on .ORG’s loan will suck up $24m/year — TWO THIRDS of the free money that .ORG generates. .ORG is a crazily profitable nonprofit – it charges dollars to provide a service that costs fractional pennies, after all. In response to getting slapped around by some Members of Congress, the Pennsylvania AG, and millions of netizens, Ethos has made a promise to limit prices increases…for a while. And they say that they’ll be kept honest by the nonbinding recommendations of an “advisory council” whose members Ethos will appoint and who will serve at Ethos’s pleasure.

In a letter to ICANN, EFF and Americans for Financial Reform have called for transparency on the financing behind the sale: “hidden costs, loan servicing fees, and inducements to insiders.”

https://www.eff.org/press/releases/eff-seeks-disclosure-secret-financing-details-behind-11-billion-org-sale-asks-ftc

Wells Fargo will pay $3b for 2 million acts of fraud (permalink)

Wells Fargo stole from at least two million of its customers, pressuring its low-level employees to open fake accounts in their names, firing employees who refused (refuseniks were also added to industry-wide blacklists created to track crooked bankers). These fake accounts ran up fees for bank customers, including penalties, etc. In some cases, the damage to the victims’ credit ratings was so severe that they were turned down for jobs, unable to get house loans or leases, etc.

The execs who oversaw these frauds had plenty of red flags, including their own board members asking why the fuck their spouses had been sent mysterious Wells Fargo credit cards they’d never signed up for. Though these execs paid fines, they got to keep MILLIONS from this fraud (which was only one of dozens of grifts Wells Fargo engaged in this century, including stealing from small businesses, homeowners, military personnel, car borrowers, etc). Some of them may never work in banking again, but they’re all millionaires for life.

Now, Wells Fargo has settled with the DoJ for $3b, admitting wrongdoing and submitting to several years of oversight. That’s a good start, but it’s a bad finish.

https://www.bbc.com/news/business-51594117

The largest bank in America was, for DECADES, a criminal enterprise, preying on Americans of every description. It should no longer exist. It should be broken into constituent pieces, under new management. There would be enormous collateral damage from this (just as the family of a murderer suffers when he is made to face the consequences of his crimes). But what about the collateral damage to everyone who is savaged by a similarly criminal bank in the future, emboldened by Wells Fargo’s impunity?

Wells Fargo is paying a fine, but will have NO criminal charges filed against it.

https://newsroom.wf.com/press-release/corporate-and-financial/wells-fargo-reaches-settlements-resolve-outstanding-doj-and

If you or I stole from TWO MILLION people, we would not be permitted to pay a fine and walk away.

“I’ll believe corporations are people when the government gives one the death penalty.”

This day in history (permalink)

#15yrsago: Kottke goes full-time https://kottke.org/05/02/kottke-micropatron

#15yrsago: New Zealand’s regulator publishes occupational safety guide for sex workers: https://web.archive.org/web/20050909001954/http://www.osh.dol.govt.nz/order/catalogue/pdf/sexindustry.pdf

#10yrsago: Principal who spied on child through webcam mistook a Mike n Ike candy for drugs: https://reason.com/2010/02/20/lower-pervian-school-district/

#10yrsago: School where principal spied on students through their webcams had mandatory laptop policies, treated jailbreaking as an expellable offense https://web.archive.org/web/20100726204521/https://strydehax.blogspot.com/2010/02/spy-at-harrington-high.html

#10yrsago: Parents file lawsuit against principal who spied on students through webcams: https://abcnews.go.com/GMA/Parenting/pennsylvania-school-webcam-students-spying/story?id=9905488

#1yrago: Cybermercenary firm with ties to the UAE want the capability to break Firefox encryption https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/02/cyber-mercenary-groups-shouldnt-be-trusted-your-browser-or-anywhere-else

#1yrago: Fraudulent anti-Net Neutrality comments to the FCC traced back to elite DC lobbying firm https://gizmodo.com/how-an-investigation-of-fake-fcc-comments-snared-a-prom-1832788658

Colophon (permalink)

Today’s top sources: Naked Capitalism (https://nakedcapitalism.com/).

Hugo nominators! My story “Unauthorized Bread” is eligible in the Novella category and you can read it free on Ars Technica: https://arstechnica.com/gaming/2020/01/unauthorized-bread-a-near-future-tale-of-refugees-and-sinister-iot-appliances/

Upcoming appearances:

The Future of the Future: The Ethics and Implications of AI, UC Irvine, Feb 22: https://www.humanities.uci.edu/SOH/calendar/event_details.php?eid=8263

Canada Reads Kelowna: March 5, 6PM, Kelowna Library, 1380 Ellis Street, with CBC’s Sarah Penton https://www.eventbrite.ca/e/cbc-radio-presents-in-conversation-with-cory-doctorow-tickets-96154415445

Currently writing: I just finished a short story, “The Canadian Miracle,” for MIT Tech Review. It’s a story set in the world of my next novel, “The Lost Cause,” a post-GND novel about truth and reconciliation. I’m getting geared up to start work on the novel now, though the timing is going to depend on another pending commission (I’ve been solicited by an NGO) to write a short story set in the world’s prehistory.

Currently reading: I finished Andrea Bernstein’s “American Oligarchs” this week; it’s a magnificent history of the Kushner and Trump families, showing how they cheated, stole and lied their way into power. I’m getting really into Anna Weiner’s memoir about tech, “Uncanny Valley.” I just loaded Matt Stoller’s “Goliath” onto my underwater MP3 player and I’m listening to it as I swim laps.

Latest podcast: Persuasion, Adaptation, and the Arms Race for Your Attention: https://craphound.com/podcast/2020/02/10/persuasion-adaptation-and-the-arms-race-for-your-attention/

Upcoming books: “Poesy the Monster Slayer” (Jul 2020), a picture book about monsters, bedtime, gender, and kicking ass. Pre-order here: https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781626723627?utm_source=socialmedia&utm_medium=socialpost&utm_term=na-poesycorypreorder&utm_content=na-preorder-buynow&utm_campaign=9781626723627

(we’re having a launch for it in Burbank on July 11 at Dark Delicacies and you can get me AND Poesy to sign it and Dark Del will ship it to the monster kids in your life in time for the release date).

“Attack Surface”: The third Little Brother book, Oct 20, 2020.

“Little Brother/Homeland”: A reissue omnibus edition with a very special, s00per s33kr1t intro.