#Unhappy how your government uses your money?

[schattenschreiberin]

Been seeing a lot of people being upset with what they're government is doing with their tax money.

And it is shitty.

So I'm gonna tell you something you probably don't want to hear, cause it's a chore, it's complicated or maybe even expensive.

Do your taxes.

File them and get back what's rightfully yours.

It might just end up being a small amount but that small amount can be spend how you want. Helping you through the day or helping an organization of your choice.

At least in Germany especially people who aren't obligated to file their taxes are the ones who get money back. Which is why they don't need to file them. They've already paid what they owe and more in some cases.

If you don't know how to do it yourself there's computer programs and organizations out there who can help you for small amounts of money.

Or you can just learn.

I do this for a living in Germany.

And I'm a bit sick of how my government acts myself.

So... just how every donation, no matter how small, matters.

This could also matter, no matter how small your return is. And again, if you want you can still turn it into a donation to whoever you like.

And at least for Germany I can give some tips for the day to day person.

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 30

MASTAPOST

huge thanks to brekitten again for betaing uwu

Despite Damian complaining of the smell, Danny personally thought his new outfit was very comfortable, at least compared to the alternatives. At some points their little nature walk along the road brought them close to the river they’d swum up to get to the locks. They could’ve easily jumped in if they wanted, but the presence of GiW boats in a narrow passage made it a very unappetising option.

They also didn’t know what his human form looked like, but they did know about siren human forms in general. Once they realised the canal itself was empty, they would very likely transition into hunting him on land. Then there would be problems.

Danny picked up the pace. Jogging was easy when you could ice over your overheating muscles from the inside, a technique that had fascinated and disgusted his friends. To their right, the remains of the canal shipyards, and to their left, a large hill covered in trees and foliage overlooked the water. Wind rustled through the leaves and blew through his clothes. Ah, to be clothed at last. What a luxury.

As they walked, the boys made idle commentary on the scenery, including sardonic comments at the presence of a golf club on the hill.

“I should hope they do not punt any balls into the water.”

“I dunno. Could be a fun challenge. Imagine doing a hole in one across the canal!”

The shade was nice too. Even the air felt cooler underneath the trees. As they rounded the corner of the mountain, their next issue made itself known.

A car drove past them, only to stop and slow down at a check point manned by, who else, the GiW. At some point Danny was seriously questioning the Panamanian government. If he were in charge, he would definitely not let the US government just run roughshod over his country’s infrastructure. That being said, it probably wasn’t the first time the government fucked things up in South America, as Sam’s many rants had led him to learning.

Danny ran his finger along Damian’s forearm, earning a hiss from the kid. He slathered the mucus over his ear, turning it into its siren form.

“Shush. Lemme listen.”

He closed his eyes and concentrated. “Sorry ma’am. We’re with the US government. We’ll need to inspect your car for any siren contraband or smuggling. We’ll also have to test you for mind control.”

With that, another voice seemed to repeat the command in very apologetic Spanish. It seemed their translator was about as unhappy with the arrangement as the poor civilian.

“Tt. Amateurs.” Damian muttered.

Then came a very rapid series of what he believed was swearing from the driver, an older woman. Oh. He didn’t need his ears to notice the sandals smacking into the agents. Danny couldn’t help but laugh a little.

It wasn’t like the blockade would do anything! There was a whole-ass hill right beside him.

“How were these people ever a threat to us?” Damian muttered. He hissed at a stray branch jabbing into his ribs, batting it away.

“Probably all the money the government throws at them to buy weapons. From my parents.” Yeah it kinda said a lot that the only reason they were any issue at all were because of his parents.

Damian stiffened. If Danny weren’t holding him so close, he wouldn’t have noticed it.

Danny hiked into the forested hill. Great thing about clothes, Damian, is that they protect your very soft human skin from being sliced up by thorns and branches and other sharp shrubbery. “It’ll be fine. I’ve beaten these clowns a dozen times before.”

 “With allies, and a healthy body. And in the water. Be wary.”

Danny grinned. “But I still have my powers!”

“Tut. Be wary. Triumphant pride precipitates a dizzying fall.”

“Hah! How many dictionaries did you consume to be able to say that?”

“Five. And I do not consume books, I read them, unlike you and your sullen species.”

“I am literally human right now. And I read plenty of books.” Comic books, in fact. But that addendum didn’t stop the (invisible) smirk on his face. Comics books are literature too! Even if the canon keeps getting ruined every few years.

Damian began another retort, only for the forest to fill with alarm blares. The sounds overlapped and pounded in Danny’s ears. “What happened!?”

He was in human form, they couldn’t detect-  Wait. He slapped himself in the face. It was Damian. They’d detected Damian’s signature. Fuck.

“The forest covered up their smell. Dangit. The one time they weren’t wildly incompetent.”

His head snapped to the side, then he turned around. Nobody yet. Damian growled. “We need to get moving.”

“You can say that again.”

Danny wove through the branches amidst rising shouts, and alarms that continued to sound. He caught a glint on the side of a tree. One ice spear was all it took to take out a sensor. More still screamed.

“Behind you!”

Danny dove to the floor. A shot whizzed past his head. His body creased leaves and pressed the dirt.

“There’s the specimen! Take it down!”

Several more guns whined. Danny rolled to the side. He got up in seconds. The dirt exploded behind him. Three more shots fired into a tree, causing it to creak and groan.

Damian squeezed his arm. “Throw me,” he whispered.

Danny’s face went slack. “What?!”

“There are only two of them. They do not know my identity, and they have weapons.”

Yeah them having weapons was a very good reason not to throw you at the racist government agents, Damian! “You’re crazy.”

“The Atlanteans underestimated me similarly. Now hurry!”

Another two agents flanked them on the other side. Despite his reservations, Danny was forced to admit the kid had a point. “Fine, but be careful!”

Danny stepped back. He threw his arms over his shoulders, Damian’s waist held tightly. With all his strength, he hurled him like the screaming ball of fury and spite that he was. The boy flashed into visibility. The agents behind him screamed girlishly, a fact that he wished he could have recorded.

Instead he squared his shoulders at the two in front of him. It was G from earlier and another guy. Hello misplaced aggression. The goons cried out, preparing to fire on Damian. While the kid was still on top of their friends’ faces!? Well, friendly fire never stopped them. Danny flicked two beams. One froze the trigger on G’s gun solid, scoring half his hand as a bonus. The other got his friend’s gun muzzle. The agent pulled the trigger anyway, and was rewarded by scalding hot metal shards to the face for his troubles.

Danny’s eyes glowed steely black and blue. He fired off another salvo. His attacks bound their wrists and feet to the ground. At the same time, his nose tickled with a coppery odour. The screams of the men behind him reduced to pained sobbing.

“I am returning,” Damian declared. Danny had about half a second between that warning and the kid slamming onto his back, arms wrapping around his neck again. The extra weight almost knocked him off his feet.

“What the heck are you carrying?!”

The skin around his ears shivered. A gun charged right over his shoulder. Damian nailed a reinforcing agent in the shoulder. “A new acquisition. Now move!”

Only Damian. Only Damian.

So the stealthy approach wasn’t working out amazingly. By the time Danny had cleared the forest, and lost his pursuers, there were about a dozen men lying on the dirt in various states of pain. Danny jogged past the now-unmanned barrier, wondering if there was really any point to sneaking around.

Damian panted over his shoulder. They needed to stop for another water break. His friend wouldn’t last long without one. And he was feeling the fatigue of keeping his powers up already. He’d need another snack soon.

“We cannot afford another confrontation. It was lucky we had the advantage in terrain, and they squandered their numbers by walking in one by one. The next fight may not be as fortunate.”

It was an apt time to say that, seeing as their presence had definitely not gone unnoticed.

A large white truck barreled through the road, giving Danny an honest to god heart attack. He dashed behind an electric post without thinking. Luckily it hadn’t noticed him, but the road ahead reeked of further agents. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were checkpoints along every road and intersection from here to the beach.

“Like seriously. There’s no way Panamanian government could be happy with this. I’m not going crazy, right?”

“This will likely be an international incident, especially if my plan is to go through.”

Danny suddenly felt rather uncomfortable. “What plan?”

“It is simply the most logical way to proceed. As I said, we do not have the resources to fight many more battles. At some point, we will be encircled, and either be captured or severely injured.”

“So what’s your plan, then?”

Damian laughed. It was not the joyful, innocent laughter of a kid his size, but rather a cackle fitting a demon, or some sadist coming up with creative ways to inflict pain on his victims. Danny got very, very worried.

“Wrench!” Dad called out. Jazz pulled one out of the toolbox and handed it over.

“Nope, wrong tool. I need the, uhh the thingamajig.” Without a beat lost, Jazz passed some fiendish contraption meant for measuring hydroplasm levels, name still pending.

“Thanks Jazziepants.”

For a man who’d been insistent on keeping her in bed or out of any hard work, and whom had been specifically instructed to do so regardless, her father’s willpower was very weak when subjected to Jazz’s arguments. That was what led her to sitting in the engine room with her father, watching him put the hydroplasm back into working levels. She felt a little bad about making her dad spend so much time, but what guilt she felt would have been outweighed a thousand-fold by the pain of seeing her brother in their parents’ grasps.

Now she needed to know the direction of his heart.

“Dad, are you ok?”

He shrugged. “I’m ok as ever, Jazzie.”

“You’ve been worrying.”

Her father yanked out a faulty wire. “What kinda dad wouldn’t be? When I was a kid, my grandpa Fenton told me one day, I’d be the man of my own house. I’d protect my wife and my kids from those gosh darn delinquents of the deep. Of course, I ended up finding a lovely wife who’d protect me just as much as I her, but,” He swallowed.

“It’s ok. I’m here for you, Dad. Is it something to do with the interrogation?”

“Jazzie, look, I don’t want you to worry.”

“But it’s bothering you, right?”

Her dad’s boots arced inwards, like he’d clenched his toes. “Our only lead was Phantom. That’s the whole point of this trip. But we got him, and he wouldn’t spill. And I didn’t know what to do.”

“Were you hurt?”

“No. Nobody got hurt. But your mother… I’m sorry, it’s not something you should be hearing.”

Her father’s voice went uncharacteristically serious. No! She didn’t need protecting. She needed information.

“Dad, you and mom have been dreaming of capturing a siren for years.”

Her father’s body went still for a moment. He quietly screwed in a bolt. “I know. It was nothing like I’d ever expected.”

“In a good way?”

“I thought he was gonna fight. Or throw snark at us like the fish felon he is. It was what our research told us what would happen. But it didn’t.”

She said nothing, her silence prompting her father to continue.

“Jazzie, he… cried. And suddenly I realised that Phantom looked like a kid. Like Danny’s age.”

“That young?” Jazz said with fake surprise. “Do you think he still could’ve done it?”

“I don’t know. But he must be involved, somehow. In any case, we’ll still have to pursue him.”

Jazz leaned in closer. Her father’s goggles were off, which gave her an unblocked view of his eyes. Just like her mother, they faltered with hidden speculation with doubt. The relief made her cry, almost. “There’s no guarantee, Dad,” she whispered.

Her father sat up from the creep. He stretched his arms out, and pulled her into an embrace. “I promise we’ll figure something out. Your brother’s got the might of the Fentons in him.”

‘Specimen Phantom is in disguise. Be on high alert. Nobody is above suspicion.’ Agent H hummed. That damned fish freak. Crawled its way out of the water the moment trouble hit. Now everyone was mobilising. Agent H shut off the radio, having heard enough.

Frankly, he’d had enough of this damned country and the heat. He’d been got by at least three mosquitoes already, and this brief respite in the truck was all he’d get until another six hours spent underneath the tropical sun, looking for a damn slippery siren.

He hoped Phantom would turn into fried fish before he did. Goddammit.

That was not to mention the freaking local police, who’d been harassing them all day about their tasks. Ignorant locals. How could they not notice the threat lurking right under their noses? Without the help of his organisation, the Canal would’ve been wrecked, then who’d have the final laugh? Definitely not Panama.

“Be on high alert, H.” Agent I said. “Specimen Phantom and its accomplice just took out squad A in the trees.”

H turned to her. “And why aren’t we assisting them?”

“Squad B’s taken care of it. We need to cut of the specimen’s escape, before it reaches the open ocean.”

H scoffed. “We have enough manpower, I. These sirens are smart enough to get around us. We need to hunt the specimen actively.”

“And you need to follow orders, Agent H. The local government’s only barely tolerating our presence as is. One wrong move and there will be hell to pay, do you understand?”

Agent H grumbled.

“Do you understand, Agent H?” Agent I ground out.

“Yes, ma’am. I-”

Agent H was unable to finish his sentence. He slammed the brakes. He and Agent I jerked forward in their seatbelts as the truck screeched to a halt in front of a gruesome sight. In the middle of the road, two wooden stakes were erected. Blood stained the road at the base of them. Strung up to the stakes were two familiar uniforms.

“Agent G! Agent F!” He cried out. Agent H tore off his seatbelt. He snatched his hydro gun and rushed out. His blood ran cold. How dare that- that- that monster!?

“Agent H! Get back here!” His superior ordered. He ignored her. He needed to-

Agent H was right in front of the wooden stakes when he realised his error. What looked like G’s soft brown skin and F’s paler tan from afar became patchy, holed. It was no human, but a kind of mocking imitation made from dried reeds and branches.

That meant- Shit.

Agent H had no time to react. Brilliant blue blasted him across the road. He struggled, cursed, tried to reach his communicator, but his efforts were for naught. The ice bound his wrists together like concrete. In the corner of his eye, he saw Agent I put up just a few more seconds of fight, before a barrage of hydro beams took her down too. That was their weapons!

Shame burned his skin hotter than the tropical sun. The dirty, evil sirens opened the door to the truck, invisibly. He could only watch helpless as a trapped rat as the truck kicked into full gear.

[catboybiologist]

hi, i have one like, question for you regarding transgender healthcare. beacause. like there are people to whom dysphoria brings immense distress/unhappiness, and any healthcare system should absolutely take care of that, for free.

but theres also people who dont feel that strongly about gender and or dont experience dyphoria, but still prefer getting/removing their tits/penis/vagina. and thats also okay, like, infromed consent and all. but im not sure where the line should be on what we (as in, taxpayer) actually pay for. like, idk, i dont have a strongly formed oppinion on this. so id like to hear yours

I know you're not from the US, but unfortunately my perspective on this will have to be amerocentric because that's my experience- so I'll talk about that perspective first, and then try to generalize it.

The American healthcare system is so wasteful in how it bars people from procedures its insane. More money is spent figuring out how to reject people from receiving monetary payments for healthcare than would be spent if you just approved the overwhelming majority of them. And this isn't even considering other ludicrously wasteful forms of spending the US government does, like the insane portion of our defense budget that just disappears into thin air every year.

So how much additional burden should the taxpayer pay? Ideally, none, because any significant reform of the healthcare system would make all of these questions moot.

But, not every country is in this situation. And there is still a question embedded in here- what is the line of providing medical care from the government/taxpayer? I don't have personal experience with it, but this is exactly what countries with socialized healthcare deal with all the time, well beyond just gender affirming care. I tried to make the parallel with abortion because its a similar category of thing. Let's call it like... "semi-elective" procedures- medical procedures with the potential to significantly improve someone's quality of life, but won't kill or severely incapacitate them if they don't get the procedure, leaving it up to them to decide whether the medical context for the procedure fits for them (I'm NOT trying to lessen how life changing these procedures are, I'm calling them 'semi-elective' as a way of denoting that two people faced with the same situation can make different decisions about it based on their personal considerations). This can apply to a lot of things, some of them almost entirely cosmetic- surgeries to mitigate a mild disability, breast implants for cancer patients after a masectomy, procedures for conditions like cleft lip, facial reconstruction after severe injury, and on and on. To me, gender affirming care falls in this category- its not cancer treatment, but it is life changing in an overwhelmingly positive way.

In my mind, it should be the priority of any government to prioritize and expand the healthcare they're able to provide, including for these semi-elective procedures. Many wealthy, developed nations have the ability to cover most or all of these kinds of procedures, even though they're entirely "elective". But yes, budget and resource concerns are very real in many places, so yes, priorities do have to be made on a national scale. This is a very delicate and interesting question, actually, and there is a lot of room for well-intentioned debate on it.

But I'm not going to answer it.

Because I think you should ask yourself something.

Why is this a question so frequently applied to gender affirming treatments, yet rarely, if ever, applied to any of the other procedures I listed above? I'm not jumping on you, because you asked a genuine question, and I'm glad you asked it. I'm speaking to anyone reading this, not just you, because this exact thing is so frequently brought up when discussing gender affirming care. And that's a double standard through and through- there's no way around that.

[warrioreowynofrohan]

I want to discuss the scene between Scrooge and Belle a little, because there’s so much in it.

“This is the even-handed dealing of the world!” [Scrooge] said. “There is nothing on which it is so hard as poverty; and there is nothing which it professes to condemn with such severity as the pursuit of wealth!”

Scrooge’s observation isn’t wrong; it’s been made by others over the years (Pink Floyd’s “Money” says much the same thing). Belle doesn’t dispute its accuracy - she says, we needn’t and shouldn’t let the world’s (double) standards govern ours. (Be not comformed to the pattern of the world.)

It’s also clear that it is not prosperity itself that she objects to (“we were both poor and content to be so, until, in good season, we could improve our worldly fortune by our patient industry”), it’s that Scrooge is using what she finds unethical methods to become rich (“I have seen your nobler aspirations fall off one by one, until the master-passion, Gain, engrosses you”). Likely methods that are ruthless and uncaring rather than ones that are dishonest; there is no indication anywhere in the book that Scrooge is a cheat. Dicken’s point is that even ‘honest’ business carried out without regard to the welfare of anyone else, and without using any of the gains from it to help people, is wrong.

We also get here an indication of the reasons driving Scrooge’s miserliness: “all your other hopes have merged into the hope of being beyond [the world’s] sordid reproach”. To me, this indicates that he was treated contemptuously by better-off people once he left Fezziwig’s employ, and wanted to be rich in order to have their respect, in order to have dignity. This connects in with the rest of the story in two ways - firstly, the ‘present’ Scrooge now treats people beneath him with contempt, the same thing he resented when he was poor; and secondly, as the spirit of Christmas Yet To Come shows him, his attitudes and pursuits have not bought him respect and dignity - decidedly the reverse.

It’s also interesting that the younger Scrooge doesn’t deny any of Belle’s statements about how his mindset has changed, characterizing it as growing wiser and becoming a man rather than a boy. He insists this does not affect his feelings towards her, but she is wise enough to see that it cannot be irrelevant to their relationship - they now have fundamentally different values, principles, and goals in life, and cannot be happy together. She’s wise enough not to fall prey to the delusion that she could ‘change him’ when he does not want to change.

She’s clearly, even from this, a very brave person - she is poor, respectable ways for young women to earn a living are limited, and she is walking away from a financially stable match with someone she once loved because the person he is becoming is inconsistent with her values, and she is convinced neither of them could make the other happy. She’s willing to walk away from security rather than have an unhappy marriage.

[fettesans]

Top, page from Raymond Buckland, Solitary Seance: How You Can Talk with Spirits on Your Own, 2011. Via. Bottom, photograph via NASA, Toroid inflatable station concept during testing, 1961. Via. More.

Using the pendulum is known as radiesthesia—also rhabdomancy, or cleidomancy. One of the best-known uses of the pendulum is in dowsing, in finding where to drill for water. But it is also used for many other things, not least of all for communicating with spirit.

Unlike many other early space station concepts, this design actually made it out of the concept phase and into production, though no models were ever flown. This particular station was 30-feet and expandable. It was designed to be taken to outer space in a small package and then inflate in orbit. The station could, in theory, have been big enough for 1 to 2 people to use for a long period of time. A similar 24 foot station was built by the Goodyear Aircraft Corporation for NASA test use. The concept of space inflatables was revived in the 1990s. Via Wikipedia.

--

‘If an artist who conceived a work says that it is unfinished and should not be exhibited, it isn’t – and shouldn’t be.’ The court felt differently: ‘When an artist makes a decision to begin work on a piece of art and handles the process of creation long-distance via e-mail, using someone else’s property, someone else’s materials, someone else’s money, someone else’s staff, and, to a significant extent, someone else’s suggestions regarding the details of fabrication – with no enforceable written or oral contract defining the parties’ relationship – and that artist becomes unhappy part-way through the project and abandons it,’ wrote the presiding judge, Michael Ponsor, ‘then nothing in the Visual Artists Rights Act or elsewhere in the Copyright Act gives that artist the right to dictate what that “someone else” does with what he has left behind, so long as the remnant is not explicitly labeled as the artist’s work.’ (...)

Essentially a horrific readymade, Barca Nostra sunk in April 2015 between Libya and Lampedusa with an estimated 1,000 migrants onboard, of whom 28 survived. The Italian government recovered the wreck in 2016 and moved it to a base in Sicily before it was placed under the care of the Augusta municipality, a landing site for Operation Mare Nostrum, Italy’s response to the Mediterranean migrant crisis. Mare Nostrum, or ‘Our Sea’, cost the Italian government a reported £7 million per month, and ensured safe passage for over 100,000 people within a year of its launch in October 2013. But after Italy appealed for assistance, EU states criticised the operation for encouraging people to risk the sea crossing, so EU agency Frontex replaced Mare Nostrum with Operation Triton in 2014, with a slashed budget and focus on border security.

Effectively a policy of nonassistance, as Forensic Oceanography concluded in their 2016 report Death by Rescue: The Lethal Effects of Non-Assistance at Sea, Triton created a situation where commercial ships were increasingly called into rescue missions they weren’t suited to conduct – such was the case with the sinking of Barca Nostra in 2015, they found. That year, European Parliament president Martin Schulz called for ‘burden sharing’ based on the fact that five out of 28 EU member states were taking in 50 percent of refugees to Europe at the time. Yet no effective cooperation manifested. Neither in creating humanitarian responses to a global crisis, nor in mediating the ultraright sentiments and movements that rose as a result – as demonstrated in 2018, when Italy’s far-right interior minister, Matteo Salvini, launched a campaign to block search-and-rescue vessels from docking in Italian ports, and drafted a hardline anti-migrant bill adopted by the Italian government.

It was within this desperate context that Barca Nostra was brought to the Venice Biennale – in cooperation with Augusta’s municipal council and Comitato 18 Aprile, which lobbied against government plans to scrap the ship – with Büchel covering transportation costs. Presented with little information – not for the lulz, it seems, but out of contempt for a wilful ignorance – the vessel’s arrival was lambasted as ‘tasteless’ by those at the vernissage, seemingly more concerned with the insult of its presence – and those taking selfies with it, like a Martha Rosler collage come to life – than discussing the exclusionary policies that brought it into being. (Granted, as curator Alexandra Stock wrote in a scathing takedown, ‘The optics [were] bad because Büchel set it up that way’.) While the stunt drew international attention – including responses from Salvini himself, countering the idea that the Venice Biennale is an ineffective stage for protest – it also revealed the limits of internationalism, whether in the artworld or the world at large.

Stephanie Bailey, from Christoph Büchel: Fear and Loathing in Venice, for Art Review, April 14, 2024.

[darkmaga-retard]

The Government and Fed must preserve their power and benefits for the rulers. When there is a perceived crisis (real or imaginary), they immediately swoop in like Mighty Mouse to save the day, instituting (emergency) policies. They don’t want unhappy citizens storming the palace.

They might save today, but they have no regard for tomorrow, leaving the adverse consequences for future generations to fix.

Never Fear – Big Brother Looking After You

Our society has moved from Thomas Jefferson’s vision, “The policy of American government is to leave its citizens free, neither restraining them nor aiding them in their pursuits” to Bill Bonner’s reality, “Politicians do not see things when it pays to be blind.”

Richard J. Maybury explains the process:

“What is politics? It is a candidate standing before a crowd and thundering, ‘If you elect me, I will give you EVERYTHING you want, and you WON’T NEED TO PAY FOR IT! I will force the evil rich person standing next to you to pay!’ …. And the crowd cheers….”

All we hear is more free stuff, tax cuts, and subsidies; using tax dollars to buy votes. I’m NOT seeing any real solutions addressing the cause of our major problems. The politicos will leave their mess for the next generation. The only choice is picking your poison and how long it will take. Future generations are getting screwed.

[xueyuverse]

Summary chapter 10, 11 and 12 of Qiang Jin Jiu

The Xiao clan is truly tied hand and foot by the Emperors, its days of freedom are increasingly numbered. Why? I don't know. I just know it has to do with Shen Wei.

It irritates me that everyone seems to underestimate Xiao Chiye. He really doesn't help himself because he's a bit irresponsible, but he's extremely intelligent and has a firm hand. As soon as he has a responsibility on his hands, he goes after it to put order in the house, and this is proven in chapter 12 when he demands his salary. So, I'm waiting for the day when these people shut up a little.

Oohhh and we have an intense interaction between Xiao Chiye and Shen Zechuan in chapter 10! Shen Zechuan plays weak, but this is just a facade.

"...Even if you let me go, will I let you go?"

"You missed the opportunity. It remains to be seen who will be the hunting dog and who will be the jade bunny in the future!"

Xiao Chiye wolf? Pfft. Clearly the wolf here is Shen Zechuan.

Xiao Chiye felt guilty for disappointing his brother, but his brother feels more sad than disappointed in him. I like their relationship, they really love each other, but their situation is very unhappy :(

“Shifu, why does he hate me so much? The professor spoke about the current political situation. Aren’t these relatives of the Dowager Empress with her in the lead the ones he should hate the most?”

So! I know that at some point Xiao Chiye will realize this too, but I am very anxious. Xiao Chiye knows that the real problem is the Dowager Empress, but since it is easier to blame Shen Zechuan then that's what is left for him.

“However, this Second Young Master Xiao is not going to war. So what is he wearing that for?”

There remains the doubt.

Oh yes! The Imperial Army is used to taking bribes. That usual thing: flattery and such. The first one to speak actually keeps receiving bribes from a Hua master who doesn't even have political relevance.

The bureaucrats never have money for anything, but they spend lots of money on parties for the Dowager Empress and bribery. Ironic, isn't it?

Regarding the Emperor, he is sick and the one who takes the reins of government most of the time is the Dowager Empress. He's already useless and keeps entrusting decisions to her, but I really think his illness has her hand in it, I just can't imagine why or the need for it.

“It’s okay if one is missing, you gentlemen can just replace it with your heads.”

This here also proves what I said before about Xiao Chiye. He is completely competent, it's irrational to doubt him so much.

“We came to Your Majesty’s rescue late this time, and yet Your Majesty still showed favor to us.”

“As long as Your Majesty gives the command in the future, Libei will certainly risk life and limb for Your Majesty.”

And isn't that part of the problem? Everyone in the Xiao Clan knows that they're practically slaves to the Emperors, but why are they pretending otherwise? They don't even talk about it among themselves.

“It's... It's not that the Ministry of Revenue doesn't want to allocate the funds to you.”

That's exactly what they're doing lol this scene is my favorite so far.

"Your Excellency." Wang Xian said almost pleadingly. "The weather is hot and I feel really bad about leaving the soldiers outside. [...]"

“Don’t worry, Your Excellency. Focus on your accounting.”

Xiao Chiye again telling people to go to work XD

There's never enough money to pay civil servants, but there's always money for the Dowager Empress to spend as she pleases? The Imperial Army was hired to transport the wood because it was cheaper labor, but the Empress gave up on the temple, so the minister now doesn't want to pay for the useless transport because, pay attention, they don't have money. HOW do they not have money?? They stuck everything up their ass?? She wanted a Temple and even had a birthday party for her where they spent all the money. It's OBVIOUS that there won't be any money while this damn thing puts its tentacles in and then pretends nothing happened.

“Even if you stab me today, there’s still nothing I can do!”

Lu Guangbai said the same thing, but there is no shine in you. He's a public servant without funds to support his soldiers and equipment because the bureaucrats spend all the money on bribes and useless things, while you are the bureaucrat who is part of the problem.

"The Ministry of Revenue cries about being poor every year. But what does that have to do with me? Pay and let's get to work.”

“Don’t tell me about anything else; That’s not my responsibility.”

And again Xiao Chiye putting order in the house. That's where the communist manifesto came from.

These bureaucrats contract the service and then get angry because the employees are demanding their salary. Then there is a rebellion and they are outraged.

“If the Imperial Army is so capable, then why the manual labor?”

“How would I dare to be angry? The Imperial Army has done a lot. I myself wouldn’t want His Excellency Xiao to work for nothing.”

Both lines are in the same scene. This man has no face.

"Is he really asking the Imperial Army for money? More like he's taking it for himself to waste."

It's his money, he uses it however he wants. Bureaucrats use other people's money until they are bankrupt, but they don't like it when employees spend as they please with money that is rightfully theirs?

Xiaofuzi's whole story resulted in something (I still don't know what it is because I didn't read the following chapters), I hadn't made a note of it because I didn't imagine it could go forward, but Li Jianheng really felt insulted for 5 years. Fuck, on the same day that Li Jianheng did something, his actions were already discovered. No luck for Li Jianheng lol

[brianbotkiller]

If right-wingers and ultra-conservative Christians believe so much in the "Sanctity of life", and are so concerned with population numbers dropping, I have your solution, you utter bottom-feeding, garbage-human clowns: UNIVERSAL. BASIC. INCOME.

Literally EVERY SINGLE PROBLEM that people have goes back to Kaptialism in some way or another. Relationship issues? Money played a role, somehow. Don't wanna have children? Money is often a deciding factor. Generally unhappy or considering unaliving yourself? KAPITALISM.

Don't believe me? Think of the number of times in your life that you were unable to do the things that these people say are so important that they want to upend entire societal and governmental structures to "preserve" them, and trace back the why -- you'll usually land on, "I couldn't do that because of money".

Bootstrappers will tell you that you just need to "Work harder" or "Grind more", or that you're just not driven enough. The fact is, that simply isn't true. You've been told all your life that you don't get to where you deserve to be because you didn't want it enough. While intention, attraction, attitude and drive have an effect on these outcomes, they are NOT going to do enough for you when you live in a world that is governed by people who want to ensure that you stay just high enough, but close enough to the ground, that you remember your place.

If these people believe so whole-heartedly that human life is so sacred, GET BEHIND DOING THINGS THAT WOULD ACTUALLY HELP HUMANS. Insisting that people have babies whether by choice or by force because of your insane ideologies isn't gonna end well. Policing people for what they do with their bodies in order to survive the hellscape that you idiots want to so vehemently preserve isn't gonna end well.

We are unlikely, as a species, to ever reach the Star-Trek future that forgoes capital as the barometer of value. It's a great dream, it probably won't happen. But the fact is that there simply is enough of the things that one can actually put their hands on -- food, houses, resources -- for everyone on this planet. Money is a fake and false concept of value assigned to material things in order to push us outside of our own personal existence and realizing that the ONLY things that matter is literally everything BUT money.

So, that's it, you fucking morons. Shut the absolute fuck up about how "Important" human life is, when you obviously have NO interest in doing anything to help preserve it. If you did, you'd push for programs that ensure that every single human being on this planet has what they need in order to live and be a part of society. You'd shut the fuck up about things that aren't your business, and you'd realize that your so-called lord and savior, Jesus Christ, WAS A SOCIALIST. The man, if he existed, literally gave people what they needed to live, and if his ass were to come back today, he'd tell you dipshits that you're all doing it wrong.

[zeep-xanflorp]

making sense of that's amorte bc i'm silly

ok so the spaghetti like represents a lot of things. it brings the family together despite bad things happening. it brings them joy. but then they find out that this product that is bringing them so much happiness actually comes from a direct result of unhappiness, depression, and ultimately a person's suicide. they're eating the body of a person who killed themselves. i suppose the question then is: is it worth it to continue enjoying something that makes you happy even if it's something you consider wrong? rick considers the spaghetti guilt free, so his answer is yes, prioritising his own pleasure. but morty's answer is no, and he seeks to solve it.

he wants to learn the names of the ppl he's been eating in an attempt to humanise them and get closure, but isn't satisfied even then. he goes to the funeral of their most recent victim and tells the people there about what they were doing, to get it off his chest.

interestingly, the family are more upset over not having their spaghetti night anymore than the fact they've been eating people and are angrier at morty than rick.

the government then invites morty back to the planet to get his full statement on everything he's doing. they serve him a plate of human spaghetti and tell him it's okay bc the person who it came from consented to being eaten. morty says this makes it go down easier and they realise they have a product bc of how delicious it is. they start selling it on a large scale under the brand name "morty-o's suicide spaghetti."

then this episode turns into a critique on capitalism and consumerism and potentially cannibalism? in the way it kinda explores the argument that cannibalism is the only ethical way to consume meat. the government of the world rick was stealing bodies from is now using morty to indirectly act like the frontman to advertising spaghetti as a product. this makes the planet start to commodify their ppl's pain. literally. they make ppl more miserable to cause more suicides so they can make more product to sell more money.

morty decides this is unacceptable and seeks a solution. he tells rick that if he gets help, he won't look for the moral flaws in rick's deeds ever again. rick agrees and manufactures a creature that is almost a person but is basically created just to kill themselves and become spaghetti. they seem to be okay with this option, until it's ruined by protestors and they're back to square one.

then my leadt favourite part of the episode. morty remembers rick can synthesise anything he gets a sample of which HE OR RICK SHOULDVE REMEMBERED SOONER BEFORE SO MANY PPL DIED. IDC HOW NAIVE YOURE TRYING TO MAKE MORTY OUT TO BE HERE HES FUCKING NOT ANYMORE SO ALL OF THE PPL WHO HAVE DIED IN THIS FUCKING EPISODE AFTER THE MORTY-'O'S DISCOVERY IS FUCKING ON FHEM.

but there's only one person left who would probably kill themselves and the only way they're able to convince him to follow through is to present him an opportunity to end the spaghetti trade forever. and so he agrees. he goes into a euthanasia chamber and presses a button, rick grabs everyone's attention and broadcasts this guys entire life history to everyone so they can see the intrinsic value of life, the beauty of individuality and lived experiences. then everyone's finally grossed out by the spaghetti and put off it forever. no more spaghetti.

rick points out that it's not these ppl's deaths that made the spaghetti distasteful but the complexity of life, and i think that's basically the thesis statement of this episode. that and the fact that not everything is black and white, even if morty desperately wants them to be. he learns grey areas are sometimes acceptable.

favourite scene is the ending when rick is teasing them.

idk not the biggest fan of this episode. i think it had smth to say but missed the mark. this is just me reading into everything and trying to make sense of this. fucking dark even for this show, even for my tastes.

[esper-game]

So I just got done playing the demo a few times and I really like the premise but I was a bit confused.

Is our MC supposed to be relatively street smart from being on the run and effectively living ‘in the hood’ for years? I know I just assumed they’d be street smart but they came off as rather clueless.

I don’t know if having them behave that way is your intention so you can move the story along quicker but it just seemed a little off.

For instance they wandered into the dark apartment despite having suspicions about why it was like that. I know they had a sheltered upbringing but those habits I figured would be broken for the most part.

What killed me though was when MC started naming the characters in the group they do know and asking why they’re there, but not like in a ‘who sent you’ way. Instead it was more like ‘hey I know you’ and it came off as very naïve. (This is before the skill checks) I couldn’t help but laugh. Again I don’t know if that’s what you’re going for but it seemed a little out there.

MC effectively lives in the hood, makes money by ‘delivering packages’ for super shady people. While on the run from a dystopian government agency that killed their family. So people hiding in MCs dark apartment doesn’t seem like it should be very surprising to them.

In that same train of thought; there’s only two or three reasons why there are people hiding in the dark in MC’s apartment and neither of them are good and each would likely spring to mind pretty quickly. One criminals, two police for technically being involved in crime(package delivery) or three the Organization has found them.

Sorry for the super long ask, I have way too many thoughts and not enough places to put them.

Tldr is our MC supposed to be street smart or are they just plot required to be clueless at certain points?

Thank you for your feedback. Sorry for how long it took for me to get to it.

As I've stated before, due to my unhappiness with how the current demo is, I'm in the process of rewriting. Some of what you have pointed out were things I was already aware of, such as the awkwardness with the confrontation at MC's apartment. That scene had to be rewritten a few times due to my work being deleted so I lost a lot of motivation around that time.

To answer your overall question, MC isn't meant to be entirely street smart or clueless. They (as you did actually say) had a very sheltered upbringing with very different circumstances that I've gone into a little more in the rewrite already, then they get suddenly thrust into this new life and they've no idea how to navigate it. So even with their few years of experience, they aren't going to ever be used to this life in the same way as someone who was raised that way, as they spent their formative years isolated and protected.

I'm not entirely sure how I could make MC seem more street-smart while maintaining plausible naivety so if you (or anyone else reading this) have any ideas I'm open to hearing them.

Thank you for letting me know your thoughts, I'll keep them in mind when I reach that point in the rewrite.

[jaesxnuwu]

Chapter V: Lieutenant and Captain

The rest of the meal was an uphill battle. I asked Crow a few more questions just to learn more about him, but it really was difficult trying to get answers out of him most of the time. I had to stop chewing just so I could catch some of the short answers he gave.

“So, what’s your favorite color?” I blurted out at one point.

I know it’s a pretty weak inquiry, but I was hoping some of these filler questions would lead to a deeper topic. Hopefully.

“Black,” said Crow as he took another bite of his onigiri. He glanced out the window with a blank expression. It looked like he was relaxed, at least.

“Hmm, why’s that?”

“It helps with moving around undetected,” Crow answered plainly. His expression didn’t change at all.

This guy is really making it hard for me. I guess, to be fair, I don’t even know if he’s interested in being friends with the people he works with. I know lots of people like that, but he also doesn’t seem like the type of person to do much outside of work.

“I know you were recently transferred over to my squad, but I never had the chance to ask,” I decided to try a different approach as I stirred the ramen broth. “Do you like it here so far?”

“It’s work.”

“Yeah, but do you like the people and environment? Are you getting along with people?”

“It doesn’t really matter as long as I get my work done, right?”

I mostly expected that answer. I haven’t seen Crow talk to anyone else in the squad outside of work-related topics and meetings. Still, I’m hopeful there will be something interesting at least somewhere.

“Well, we are a team, and good teamwork makes us all work more efficiently. We help each other out in areas where we are lacking individually,” I argued. I honestly didn’t even believe what I was saying, but I wanted an excuse to get him to talk more.

“I think I manage just fine on my own though.”

“As your Captain, I think otherwise. It never hurts to have some extra help,” I responded almost instantly. I hated playing the “captain” card but maybe he would listen to that.

Crow turned his head back toward me, meeting my own gaze. He blinked a few times before resting his head on his fist.

“I think the place is alright, and the other members too. I haven’t had a chance to speak to anyone, but it’s more relaxed than the last group I was assigned to.”

“Where were you before?” I asked, realizing I didn’t even know the first thing about his past.

“That’s classified, Captain.”

“Of course it is,” I sighed, not even bothering to hide my true feelings.

“I’m sorry if you’re unhappy with the answer.”

“No, it’s fine. I get it. That’s just how the government operates. Security and all,” I held up a hand to reassure him.

I know it isn’t Crow’s fault. Kalecia, especially the Guard, is very tight lipped about sharing information between different squads and groups. Even as a captain, a lot of information is hidden from me. Not that I care too much as long as I have a good place to live, money, and the work isn’t too difficult. It’s better not to ask too many questions sometimes as I’ve learned.

“Do you like working here, Captain?” Crow tilted his head to the side. He looked so innocent, but it was probably because I was filling out the rest of his covered face with the wrong expression.

I definitely did not expect him to take initiative like that though.

“Yeah, I think it’s okay. It’s a lot more paperwork than I’d like or am used to though,” I complained half-jokingly.

“And the people?”

“They’re fine. It still feels a little awkward being called “captain” and having people come to me for help. It hasn’t been too long since I was promoted, and I was more used to working alone where I was previously assigned,” I admitted. I felt like it was only right to share something with him as well, but I kept it brief, worrying that I’d bore him.

Crow lifted his head and looked at me with mild curiosity as if he was trying to piece together the bits of information I just gave him.

“What kind of work did you do?”

“That’s classified, Crow,” I replied in a slightly mocking tone. Two can play that game, and I wasn’t lying either.

“Fair enough, Captain.”

I heard a small chuckle, and I could have sworn Crow smirked at me under his mask.

We finished our food soon after. I tried to ask a few more questions, but I wasn’t able to get anything else interesting out of him. I pulled out my phone to check for any updates and messages.

“Are you finished?” Crow asked as he stood up with the onigiri wrapper in hand. I looked up from my phone to see him looking down at me. He looked like he was waiting for my confirmation first before he could go.

Man, this guy is tall.

“Yeah,” I gave a small nod. I slipped my phone back into my pocket. I looked back up to reach for my bowl, but Crow already had his hand around it and was taking it with him.

“Let’s go then.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

We stepped out into the street and were greeted by colder winds than I remembered earlier. I was more or less immune to the cold if I wanted to be, so I was fine. The sound of cars passing by slowly and chatter still lingered in the air. I could see a few groups of people walking by on the other side of the street. Most of them were wearing plain dark shirts, and some others had on tight dresses. A few here and there had on some flashier outfits.

It looked like the party scene was starting to wake up at this time of the night, or so I guessed. I never had the luxury of getting caught up in any nightlife activities, but I would overhear some members in the Guard talking about their plans to go to clubs and bars together after work.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up. I half expected Crow to be shivering from the cold, but I wasn’t completely unsurprised either to see he was standing still like a rock. As I tilted my head up to meet his eyes, I could see his muscles were slightly tensed up from the chill winds blowing our way. At the very least, that tight uniform wasn’t helping with the weather. It was clear, especially from what I saw on his undershirt, that the cold was getting to his body, despite his stoic attitude.

“Is there anything else you wanted to do, Captain?” Crow blinked at me.

“No, I think I’ll head home for the night,” I felt bad for keeping him standing out in the cold any longer than needed despite a part of me wanting to hang out a while longer. He was awkward and hard to talk to, but it was honestly one of the better conversations that I’ve had with someone since my promotion.

“Alright,” Crow nodded.

“What about you? Did you have anything else to do?”

“No. I was going to go home too.” Crow glanced away. I assumed his place was somewhere in that direction.

“Oh, okay. Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Crow,” I smiled, “Have a good night, and thanks for the company.”

I really did have a good time. It wasn’t ideal, but at least I can tell he isn’t some kind of robot soldier in disguise now. At least, I think he’s not. With Kalecia’s technology, I suppose any strange thing is possible.

“Of course. Anytime for you, Captain,” Crow nodded as he turned away and started down the street. I’m not sure if that was meant to be endearing and I had actually broken the ice, or if he just meant it formally as a lieutenant trying to follow orders.

I sighed.

I’m going to guess it’s probably the latter.

The next morning was like most others. I slipped on a dark-gray long sleeve shirt and a pair of jeans. I grabbed my phone before heading out the door. I paused for a moment to double-check the weather as the sound of the door’s automatic lock clicked behind me, giving me the green light to go.  

I arrived at my branch’s building with a cup of coffee I picked up from the nearby café. I preferred being able to chug my drinks sometimes, so I almost always ordered them cold instead.

There were already a few of my subordinates pacing around the lobby area as I stepped inside.

“Good morning, Captain!” the receptionist gave a cheerful greeting. He was a smaller guy with neat brown hair, and probably about a few years older than me. The people who stayed and handled paperwork and communications were usually never on the frontlines themselves. That being the case, everyone still had to maintain their fitness and participate in physical training, including them.

“Good morning,” I gave a small nod and wave as I walked deeper inside.

I could hear chatter coming from the locker room just a few doors down. No doubt it was the overnight shift members and others arriving in for the day shift changing in and out of their uniforms. Supposedly the extra time together with communal facilities would help bring squad members together.

I stepped inside to see about a dozen others changing next to their respective lockers. A few of them looked up and cracked a smile.

“Morning, Captain!” I heard one yell from the far side of the room. He was much older, probably in his early forties. He had short, dark hair and looked like he was in better shape than most soldiers you’d see around. Even from here, I could see his body was covered in small scars. A veteran, we would refer to them, out of respect.

“Good morning, Al,” I feigned a smile. I was basically the youngest, in the building despite being the captain, so I had the feeling some of the older Guard members especially didn’t take me as seriously. I wasn’t going to deal with the trouble though as long as they did their jobs properly. I wasn’t always thrilled about this position. It’s not like I was actively seeking to be captain back then either.

I stepped over a few clearly worn shirts and boxers among other things to get to my locker.

I have my own private shower and changing room connected to my office as well, but sometimes I want to make sure everything is alright with my subordinates. Truthfully, I’m not sure how close the captain of other squads are with their members, so I’ve just been doing what felt natural.

I took a glance around as I let my muscle memory handle the locker combination. A few of them were laughing and talking to each other with their locker doors still open. A few were sitting on the bench, tightening their boots or checking their phones.

“Morning,” I heard a deep voice speak next to me, along with the sound of a locker opening. I already knew it was Crow’s spot. He was always so light on his feet that I could never sense him approaching.

This wouldn’t be the first or last time he startled me. Maybe I just need to get better at spotting him.

“Hey, Crow,” I turned and saw him give me a small nod before slipping out of his black shirt, sweatpants, and everything else. He was left with nothing on except his mask as he reached for his uniform.

I’m pretty sure he sleeps with that thing on at this point.

I decided to try and pick up from last night and make some small talk as I changed into my uniform as well.

“So, anything new so far?” I asked idly.

“Yes.”

“Really?” I looked back at him surprised. His eyes were already on me as he nodded. He pulled up his pants and shuffled a bit to get the last few inches on. They looked like a tight fit. I struggled to imagine how he managed to move around so easily in them.

“Yes,” he continued, “There’s a new transfer waiting to see you.”

Crow finished his sentence and started gathering his things back into the locker.

“Oh thanks,” I tried to mask my disappointment. That’s not really what I meant by “anything new” but I guess I should have been more clear with him.

I shuffled down the hall, turning a few corners and greeting a few other members along the way. Finally, I reached the hall with my office.

I could see a young man standing outside my door, probably about my height, give or take a few. It was hard to tell from this distance and his back was turned. He had on our standard jacket and pants. His blonde hair stood out a bit against all the dark colors of the uniform though.

This guy could have just waited for me to come see him.

[master-jarrus]

ok so i can't tell you how to vote at all but. please please please don't vote third party. seriously. literally there has been one independent president and that was george washington. i fucking hate biden, he supports genocide and he's a stupid rich white guy and his brain is rotting, but he's so much better than trump. if you're a woman, trump wants to take away your rights to your body. if you're lgbtq+, trump wants to take away your rights to everything. he wants you dead. if you know any person in an unhappy marriage who's life is worse because of it, he wants to take away the ability to get out of that marriage. which, to be honest, they'll probably use just to make it so women can't get out of toxic marriages, c'mon. do you think teen pregnancy is a good thing? because he wants to ban contraceptives. a vote not towards biden is essentially a vote towards trump. nobody really wins if trump is the president. we are all fucked. if you genuinely care about america or honestly the rest of the world or your right to vote or protest or any women, queer people, people of color, homeless people, children, and pretty much everyone on earth, you will vote for biden

You realize that this is how we get stuck in the two party system

And if you look at the statistics RFK jr is actually doing better then Trump or Biden (as of four days ago certain events have garnered Trump a lot of sympathy)

I'm not a fan of him because he thinks vaccines cause autism and wants to waste money checking the research again.

He also thinks "tranness" is caused by chemicals in the water

But he wants to pull out of ukraine and stop funding israel

And overall he seems more focused on having research funded by the government to double check his claims about vaccines and the water chemicals and a few others then taking away people's rights over it

He is better than the other two

But we will be in the same place next election cycle if he wins assuming no one has passed from how old they are or any more assassination (disclaimer acknowledgement of natural events and likely hood of there being more attempts)

Jill Stein may honestly have to pull out of the race

I do still like her best and currently she had my vote

It is a shame Trump is getting martyred now though and sympathy is causing people to think that makes everything magically right and the correct choice

But even still choosing to vote who you think is the right choice for the job and not who you think will win is how we actually get people we don't like out of office.

I don't want Trump's or Biden's America for my child. But I can have a fighting chance to protect them in RFK jr's and I wouldn't have to fight at all in Jill Stein's

[girlreviews]

Review #149: John Prine, John Prine

The genius of John Prine is that he skillfully sang stories of any kind of lost overlooked person with wit and a wink, but never mean spirited or punching down. He sings a gentle dignity and grace into every character in his songs. Some of them are flawed. Some of them are hopeless. Some of them are dim-witted. Some of them are victims of terrible circumstance. Some of them are terribly lonely. Each one is worthy of a song and the humanity it bestows upon them. Who knows if they are real people, but I do know that they definitely represent very real people. Veterans. Unhappy couples. Seniors. Disillusioned citizens wondering why entire generations were sent overseas to die, or sent overseas only to return empty, vacant, abandoned and addicted.

It’s sad. It makes me sad. I don’t often get through this record without crying a little. I see the faces of those in my life who haven’t been able to escape their demons, or break cycles of trauma. To their detriment, to the detriment of us all. But despite their flaws, they’re humans, and they’re worthy of dignity and love too. I’m reminded that I’m a work in progress. After all, “to believe in this livin’, is just a hard way to go”. You’re damn right, John.

Whether you hear the message in the songs is really up to you. Even though some of them — Your Flag Decal Won’t Get You Into Heaven Anymore — are silly sounding, cheery-almost songs poking fun at empty patriotic displays — if you’re listening, you hear what he’s really saying. It’s a protest. Your God wouldn’t support this shit. I really believe it though, that plenty of people might hear these songs and tap their foot along happily, never really hearing the pretty stark criticism in it. It’s a choice.

Sam Stone is a man returning from conflict overseas, to be abandoned by the government in coping with this struggles, and in turn abandoning his family through his need to self-medicate. Again, who you are and how you see the world might dictate how you empathize towards Sam Stone:

“There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes

Jesus Christ died for nothin' I suppose

Little pitchers have big ears

Don't stop to count the years

Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios”

Each line suffocates you just a little bit more. Taking just a little bit of a sharper gasp of air to ward off an emotional response or to settle down the wobble of your chin. At least, it does if you were a little pitcher with big ears. A child wondering whether your Dad would make it to your game, your high school play, whatever it was. A child who knew how to recognize the subtle changes on the face of a man growing inevitably less sober. I suppose the point John is making — is that someone out there also knows and noticed the subtle changes on your little face too. The face you made each time you dared to hope and then had to let it die when you saw that your Dad was drunk, again. You had hope, but not for long. That sweet song didn’t last long, and you learned not to bother singing along, because the radio is shot to hell and it turned to static before you even got to the chorus. Eventually, maybe you even gave up on that radio and threw it out. Or maybe you hold onto dusty old broken things wishing that you could fix them. John saw you and had love for you. But he had love for Sam Stone, too, and recognized how he and all of us had been failed. I think that’s beautiful.

Hello In There is a song about growing older and growing increasingly more isolated. I thought about this song yesterday before I decided to review this album next. I was behind a frail, elderly man wearing overalls at the checkout at the grocery store who needed a hand. We interacted briefly, and he’s remained on my mind. If I’m lucky, I’ll be an old woman someday and I hope someone will talk to me at the grocery store checkout if I’m having a bit of a moment. Honestly, I hope someone will talk to me if I’m having a bit of a moment at the grocery store checkout tomorrow.

If you don’t know Angel from Montgomery, John wrote it for Bonnie Raitt, but his version is pretty definitive. The organ in it really does sound like flying. Or what I think it would feel like to fly. I think anyway. It’s fucking good.

In keeping with the big sad feels, there’s Far From Me, which paints a detailed picture of a deeply unhappy couple. We have all been there. I’m always struck by the observation “ain’t it funny how an old broken bottle, looks just like a diamond ring?”

One of my favorites, and maybe one of the few I don’t find too terribly sad, is Quiet Man. It’s got a real something to it. I don’t know what he was going for but it’s so cool and clever:

“Last Monday night I saw a fight

Between Wednesday and Thursday over Saturday night”

“Oodles of light, what a beautiful sight

Both of God’s eyes are shining tonight”

Recommend listening to the entire song for the full effect. I am unaware of any other song in existence that can utilize the word oodles and still be considered a masterpiece. But he gone done did it.

Listen, more than any other record this one truly brought me to Nashville. Here’s something I wrote in 2020 when John Prine died after a pretty long stint in the ICU with COVID. He was really one of the first people we lost in the pandemic. And it really hurt. It hurt because everyone in Nashville that’s been here for a minute knows what John Prine meant and means to this city. But he truly, truly, brought me here and made my life better:

“Nine years ago, I visited my cousin to help her move. It was my first visit to Nashville. We were looking for John Prine’s self-titled album everywhere (streaming wasn’t quite like, a thing yet, I guess). I think we found it at McKays, but I might be mistaken. Anyway, we listened to it on repeat that entire trip, and it always reminds me of the first time I came to Nashville, which two years later became my home and gave me everything. I love John Prine. I could listen to his songs forever, and I expect that I will. Oodles of light, what a beautiful sight.”

John knew how to live. He told us what to do. Blow up your TV. Throw away your paper. Plant a little garden. Eat a lot of peaches. It’s all sound advice and we should heed it more frequently. Next time you’re out, order a “Handsome Johnny”. Be kind but don’t be too serious, and listen to some good music.

[dosesofcommonsense]

(From Brian Cates on Telegram)

Election interference to ensure Biden ‘won’ and Trump ‘lost’ is only the tip of the Censorship State iceberg.

The US government censored its own citizens in direct violation of their 1st Amendment rights to drive politicized narratives that turned out to be LIES.

Our ‘public servants’ put their boots on the necks of millions of Americans and pressed down…HARD…because they were TELLING THE TRUTH.

About stollen and rigged elections.

About laptops.

About virus origins and nefarious and illegal bio weapons activity by our own government officials in the Alphabet agencies in Ukraine and elsewhere around the world.

About vaccines,masks and lockdowns.

About the war in Ukraine.

About Biden being competent.

Seriously, I could make a very long list of ‘The Official Big Brother Narratives of the Past 4 Years’ where federal bureaucrats working illegally behind the scenes were censoring millions of Americans for saying the ‘wrong’ things.

In case you hadn’t noticed, Big Brother runs on lies, and bothersome citizens who just can’t seem to take a hint and SHUT UP and stop challenging their government’s official narratives when they are ordered to need to be ‘managed’.

And so a shit-ton of very helpful NGO’S like Stanford Observatory were created to surreptitiously help the US government successfully ‘manage’ citizen’s speech on social media platforms and elsewhere.

A lot of people in this nation under direct and ongoing threat by an out-of-control vindictive and corrupt federal bureaucracy still don’t grasp just how bad this is.

And the great thanks they owe to those who exposed this evil Censorship State and are currently fighting the Hydra to restore to all Americans the constitutional right to free speech they had illegally taken away from them.

https://x.com/elonmusk/status/1721743484116169032?s=20

ADDENDUM:

Of course, the people who are enthusiastically in favor of all the illegal censorship activity by the State and its ‘private sector’ allies currently getting exposed are very unhappy these days.

See, they thought their ‘side’ was ‘winning’ the Great National Conversation when that conversation was rigged in their favor. They knew it wasn’t a real conversation at all.

They were HAPPY that social media discourse was being rigged and tightly controlled by political hall monitors.

They thought this meant they would win the ‘game’.

But this isn’t a really a GAME.

This is life and death.

A people that are not allowed to speak freely to their government or each other many be many things, but they are not a free people.

I meant what I said at the end of the previous post. As a people, as Americans, we have had our free speech stolen from us. We have been the targets of a massive crime committed by our own government , and the issue is still in doubt as to whether two things will happen:

1. We get our free speech, especially on social media, returned to us so we can once again exercise our God-given rights without State interference and…

2. The people in our government who violated our speech rights in dead of night using corrupt and illegal means to hide their having done this are all dragged out into the light of day and held fully accountable in such a legal manner that no one shall ever in the future attempt a repeat of such a crime.

Keep your eyes on Missouri v Biden in the courts. We won’t know if the government bastards will have to hand back our speech rights until that case is decided.

The Biden administration is currently fighting to keep The Censorship State going.

After all, over the past decade or so, the Commie Marxist scum embedded in out federal government & agencies spent an awful lot of time, money and passion in constructing their precious Censorship State apparatus.

Salivating and having wet dreams at night over the sheer amount of total speech control they were gonna have in their hands once they were done tinkering with it.

And now?

Now they risk losing it all. They can’t have that. They’re desperate to get back to the kind of rigid speech control they had just a year ago.

Well I’ve bad news for The Censorship State and all the goombahs out there who just LOVED the censorship regime because they thought this meant they were moving the ball down the field and we’re about to score.

“PERSONAL FOUL, FEDERAL GOVERNMENT TEAM, BOOT ON THE NECK OF CITIZEN TEAM, AUTOMATIC EJECTION FOR THE ENTIRE GOVERNMENT TEAM, BALL SPOTTED FOR TEAM CITIZEN AT THE 1 YARD LINE, 1ST AND GOAL!”

You weren’t winning. You cheated and created an illusion based on illegal deception and brute force.

And now you’ve been caught. The flag has been thrown.

There will be no going back. You LOST.

[aeoki]

SHINSEKAI - Magicians of ES: Chapter 1

Location: SHINSEKAI Control Room Characters: Sora, Natsume & Tsumugi

< One week later. In the “SHINSEKAI” control room in the Tohoku region. >

Tsumugi: I suppose this would be their limit.

Natsume: YeAH. It’s possible to sustain them for this long due to the latest equipmeNT, but there is a limIT. Their bodily functions will be badly affected if they were to be logged in for a long period of tiME.

It’s the same as a trip to spaCE. If the human body is in an environment different to where it’s normally supposed to live in for a long tiME, it’ll start to break doWN.

So we’ll log out the players as plannED. And we’ll let them rest for a few days in the real worLD.

By doing that, we should be able to relieve any issues the body hAS. That’s the sort of experimental data we’re seemingly gettiNG.

Tsumugi: Well, it’s the latest technology that we’re unfamiliar with, so we should be careful. Our contract with ES does state that they will take full responsibility, though.

But if victims do arise, we wouldn’t be able to sleep very well at night.

Natsume: Speaking of victiMS, “Valkyrie” are just victims who got dragged into thIS.

We’re doing this because we received orders from the higher-up to do sO, but I felt sorry for them in the beginniNG.

Tsumugi: Ahaha. I’m sorry, it’s all because I’ve been ordered to not go against what they tell us to do…

But if things take a turn for the worse, I’d ignore the “order” and save them, though.

Natsume: YeAH, I have no objection to thAT.

Sora: Sora, too! That’s because Sora and the others in “Switch” are not “evil magicians” ♪

Natsume: YeAH. Ultimately, not having the liberty to do whatever they please within a great government or religion is what magicians aRE.

Unlike “Trickstar” and “Crazy:B”, we have no intentions of recklessly going against the higher-ups, thouGH.

We bear different positions – different identitiES. We’ll use our methods to etch our ideals in ink and to take hold of our dreAM. …I won’t let anyone make complainTS.

Tsumugi: Fufu. Everything is going smoothly right now, so we can breathe a sigh of relief. I hope things will continue this way, though.

Sora: HaHa~♪ Sora is also doing his best alongside Senpai and Master~ to ensure a happy ending!

Natsume: YeAH. Compared to “Valkyrie” who are struggling against heavy odds in-gaME, it’s rather easy for us as all we have to do is simply watch over thEM.

Sora: Actually, Sora wanted to play inside “SHINSEKAI”~ It’s a bit boring just watching.

Tsumugi: I’ve said this a few times before, but we’ll take care of what needs to be done, so it’ll be fine for you to play in “SHINSEKAI”, Sora-kun.

Sora: No, no! Sora isn’t a child who will push his work onto the adults and play around innocently!

Tsumugi: Right. We’re counting on you to do your part too, Sora-kun ♪

Natsume: In reality, after Sora became the focus of our activitiES, “Switch’s” reputation has skyrocketED.

We only achieved that because you held our hands and pulled us aloNG.

But at this point in tiME, we’re lacking in achievements to our naME. We can’t say it’s better compared to before and leave things theRE.

We need power in order to change the worLD and in this industry, ES single-handedly shoulders thAT.

They lay low after they were established for a little whiLE, but ever since “SS” began, ES started genuinely baring their fangs as the gigantic monster they aRE.

We “Switch” will smoothly manoeuvre around that and create even a fraction of a world where unhappiness and sadness do not exiST.

The testing conducted in this “SHINSEKAI” which utilises “SSVRS” is that very first stEP.

“SSVRS” is a device which allows unparalleled dreams in the world to turn into a reality and its profits are immeasurabLE.

We’ll make it an exclusive patent from our agency and it’ll be a huge commercial produCT.

We’ll change the world with new technoloGY. Just like how the internet and smartphones dID.

Tsumugi: Ahaha, Our agency never has the money nor the power, so it’s nice that we’re able to attain a large source of income like this.

It’ll be a great help in terms of managing the agency in the future.

Natsume: YeAH. Within the four great agencies, apart from the huge RhyLin, StarPro and CosPro have millionaires supporting thEM.

I say the four great agenciES, but there is a clear disparity between our economic power and theiRS.

Tsumugi: It would have been great if Suou-kun could support us, though.

Compared to Eichi-kun and his group, they almost seem poor and it seems they’ve run into some trouble at home as well…

Sora: Yes… Sora often chats with Tsuka-chan on “Hallhands”, but it looks like things are really bad right now?

Natsume: YeAH. In reality, we can’t continue to keep relying on “Knights” even though they’re a unit with steady populariTY.

But with this “SSVRS”, we can shrink the gap between us and the other agenciES.

Even without assistance from other agencies or “Double Face” having to come in to keep things in cheCK, we should be able to boldly and freely hold our activities in the futuRE.

Tsumugi: Yes. Justice without power is powerless and power without justice is violence. Let’s work hard to use the power we’ve gained righteously and act appropriately.

So we no longer bear any regrets.

Natsume: YeAH. We don’t know what will happen in the futuRE, but let’s stop watching on the sidelines without doing a thiNG.

Complaining from the inside won’t change a thiNG. Let’s get ourselves involved in the stoRY.

This time, truly, to reach a happy endiNG.

Sora: …………

Natsume: ? What’s wroNG, Sora? Sorry, we ended up talking between ourselves agaIN…

Sora: HiHi~♪ Sora loves watching that more than playing video games ♪

Oh, not that, Sora felt something weird when Sora looked at the in-game data…

Natsume: Felt something weiRD?

Sora: Sora can’t explain it very well but it feels like someone else is trying to overwrite the story we’re trying to write out…?

← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂  Next Chapter →

[deux-jared]

my review (more like ramble) of The Menu

the three aspects: class, capitalism, and cuisine

very much so spoilers

the menu

Class:

I could talk forever on what each characters represented, their own personal sins and how it reflects common behavior in the world. but that’s easy to pick up. so onto bigger ideas. very much so is this movie a rich vs poor. that’s made almost too clear.

best part is when the chef asks felicity what school she went to and if she has student loans. that’s what it feels like. that’s actually literally what it feels like. the song silver platter by john grant. broken pieces of furniture that won’t be replaced. wearing through your shoes. there’s a sort of heaviness that seems to come along with the word college itself. what it means. what it takes. what it gives.

the chef seems to not make a class distinction based purely on wealth, but instead on role. givers and takers. if you find yourself asking which you are, don’t keep yourself up over it. we are all both. the chef is conceited in the idea that his art of cooking is above all. that to serve food is the greatest job. he’s right of course. Perhaps the World Ends Here by Joy Harjo. “No matter what, we must eat to live. The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.” but he is foolish to cast himself into this spotlight role. he is not serving anyone dinner, hasn’t for what seems to be awhile. he is serving art. food is art. but art is not always food. there are other roles it has to fill to be both and these dishes just don’t fill that. it doesn’t make them lesser. it does make him lesser in the social hierarchy.

the movie chooses to , ever so graciously, look at women’s rights. and lately. it feels like that means something more than it should. i don’t want to count the amount of times each day i feel pain from it all. in an unshareable and indescribable way. the parts about disrespect, sex work, infidelity, work status, even money itself. they did not go unnoticed. it was pleasurable. perhaps too much so. to see the look on Kathrine’s face when she stabbed the chef and proceeded to say nothing. she exist under him, under the structure he executes. but she got that moment. and in a way, she owned her death too, which no other character can say.

however i don’t understand the man chase thing though, that had no consequences and was clearly used as a plot device to get the women to bond but then it like didn’t even matter that they did. and margot sharing her true identity was meaningless beyond some feminist idea about identity being regulated by circumstance or men or work and the other women feeling a stronger connection to her.

Capitalism:

what stands out about the chef isn’t that he hates the world he lives in. many, many people do. it’s his high status that contrasts this sentiment. he blames these rich people for ruining his art, but the transaction goes both ways. he himself failed at what he set out to do, and is now unhappy with the results. he took a wrong turn along the way.

the chef is, and bear with me now, capitalism.

we like to think of the men on top as these horrid monsters. it makes things easier to take in. the cloaked figure in a storybook or the black man on the news. but of course that’s not how it is, that’s not really how the human mind works. and i truly believe that those men who decided to make all these choices in global government, those who have altered history for the worse, meant for the best. of course they thought that free market was a good idea, it looks perfect on happy. trickle down economics, eugenics, war itself. we are quick to trick ourselves into thinking we’re making the right choice because that’s the easiest thing for our minds.

none of the guest thought they deserved any punishment. it never occurred to them they were being rude or unkind. and it never occurs to the chef when he is in the wrong. but he made this place. he set these prices. he signed the contracts. and in turn these people show up. it is in this same way capitalism fails.

there’s a moment in a car that’s sliding off the edge of a cliff , and i know this because i was once in a car sliding off the edge of a cliff. where you know that what you once could have done, you no longer can do. you could have made the turn differently, could have loaded the trailer less, could have not made the fucking trip at all. but this doesn’t occur to you until the back wheel is teetering and none of it even matters anymore. it’s not about what happens after, because the after will always come. in death and in life. it’s about knowing that you were not always as helpless as you are in the moment. it’s digging your own hole. pandora opening the box. the first sight of the gun. the last note of the song. how does it feel to know that this is what you had coming. in a way, to me at least. that is what the menu is about. you made the reservation, now dine.

i did not die that night. obviously. nor was that the night that car got totaled. and that slightly convoluted rescue story is one of humanity. doomsday comes when there is no longer another person who cares. no longer humanity.

the chef’s biggest gripe seems to be with the destruction of craft for money. the pressure to succeed (the sous chef’s suicide represented by a pressure good dish), the fear of replacement (elsa’s needless self caused death), selling out (the horrible movie the actor did), empty knowledge over skill / romanticization of a craft rendering it over-commodified to the point of reservation or god forbid obscurity (tyler). these are all very real issues , among many of they other negative undertones of the modern work force. and why do all these issues seem to arise ? capitalism. sell sell sell, and then you end up selling the craft itself. they lost a love a cooking because they were no longer cooking to cook, or ever to serve or please. they were cooking because they were expected to (this statement is debatable, the specific motives for the cooks’ depression is probably even nonexistent. this is a guess based on the ending and the expressed emotions). margo breaks the cycle of what is expected by honestly asking for what she wants. and for what she knows the chef wants to make. she brings humanity back into the transaction, and is thus freed.

but also in careers, sometimes the passion leaves. and that is normal. and healthy. what is wrong is the stagnation. you’re stuck here. now what. no way back no way out it often feels. you spent a life time earning this, and now there is nothing left. single skill workforce layout is killing us as a people god bless that’s just more of a person rant didn’t have to do much with the movie. i want a multifaceted skill set so so so bad.

Cuisine:

i guess this is what the movie is actually about. or what stands out the most. it is also my favorite part. margot seems to take the stance that the chef’s meals are bad. but that’s because she’s judging them wrong. as previously detailed, the food is more art than food. she is disappointed because she expected dinner and was given a show instead.

my favorite part is the (short lived) mentions of biome based cuisine. while it’s only shown at the beginning and never really specifically backed up, the concept of having an island where all your ingredients are naturally sourced is incredible. wonderful set up for a commune. secondly, the role that geography And environment plays in customary cuisine is fun to look at. what things do the people around you usually eat and how does that connect to the natural ingredients in the area. it’s how costal places have sea heavy diets. but on a far more detailed scale. you use a lot of mint in your food because the neighbors grow too much. you have the farmers market walnuts that the orchard in the county happens to grow. it’s even making a lot of dips because down the street the corner shop is known for their homemade tortilla chips. there’s are connections that have mostly been lost due to corporate structure and industrialization. but still thrive in the earthly nature of biome cuisine. it’s something to not only think about, but apply to your own lifestyle.

the class connection to cuisine. not something i’ve heard talked about but something i Very much so think about. especially in relation to health and quality of life. while consuming food is something all humans have in common, the type of food is wildly different. not serving bread is not only to show that the food they’re eating that night can’t be accessed by lower classes. but also giving them a taste of their own medicine. they are denied food that is out of their class, as many of us are every day.

and there’s also the history of bread being told. there’s a sharp contrast between the types of food eaten by different classes. qualities like nutrition and being filling are valued more than taste. my favorite food, my friday night go to, is the $6 wendy’s taco salad. all the food groups in one meal. and for under ten bucks. it’s ground breaking. no working class person is considering some pieces of high quality meat or delicately placed vegetable cubes a good meal for many reasons.

this is in part that margot seems to get right. the importance of food beyond aesthetic and artistic value. there’s a joy that comes from survival, the monkey core of the brain being appeased. and that’s part of what filling food provides. there’s also comfort food. which reminds us of better times, of fond memories, of the family who we have shared table and plate with. by asking for a cheeseburger, margot is not only being honest about her dislike of the menu in a way no other guest is. but she’s also giving the chef the chance to do something he hasn’t done in a long time. bring joy and comfort. help someone. literally serve instead of artistically serve. it’s the feeling of making a pot of soup for your friends or serving lasagna at the homeless shelter. you’re doing this to provide. not to show off. when the class based hierarchy of “fancy” cuisine burns to the ground, we will still have food. the food of our childhood and of our environment.

final thoughts:

if i was to die. i hope it would be this way. given or taking i don’t care. to finale become the art, just like we’re never supposed to, it’s the darkest wish fulfilled. just thinking about it makes me go wild with the pain of want.