#What is the history of Cannabis

[bittersweetblasphemy]

the problem with writing a fantasy loosely based on a historical culture is you need to decide how "loose" you're willing to go. like yeah i know they didn't have silk but fuck you there's a literal god sitting right the fuck there and of course he would want that shit. but also would the protagonist know what the fuck a book is?

[zvaigzdelasas]

The Onondaga claim that the United States violated a 1794 treaty, signed by George Washington, that guaranteed 2.5 million acres in central New York to them. The case, filed in 2014, is the second brought by an American Indian nation against the United States in an international human rights body; a finding is expected as soon as this year.

Even if the Onondaga are successful, the result will mostly be symbolic. The entity, the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights, has no power to enforce a finding or settlement, and the United States has said that it does not consider the commission’s recommendations to be binding.

“We could win against them, but that doesn’t mean that they have to abide by whatever,” Mr. Hill said in an interview.

The 2.5 million acres have long since been transformed by highways and utility lines, shopping malls, universities, airports and roller rinks.

The territory encompasses the cities of Binghamton and Syracuse, as well as more than 30 state forests, dozens of lakes and countless streams and tributaries. It is also home to 24 Superfund sites, the environmental detritus of the powerhouse economy that helped central New York thrive during the beginning and middle half of the 20th century.

Most notorious of these is Lake Onondaga, which once held the dubious title of America’s most polluted lake.

Industrial waste has left its mark on Onondaga territory, leaving the nation unable to fish from its streams and rivers. The history of environmental degradation is part of what motivates the Onondaga, who consider it their sacred responsibility to protect their land.

One of their chief objectives in filing the petition is a seat at the table on environmental decisions across the original territory. The other is an acknowledgment that New York, even if only in principle, owes them 2.5 million acres.[...]

Some Native nations have been willing to drop land claims in exchange for licenses to operate casinos. But the Onondaga say they are not interested in cash. Nor are they interested in licenses to sell cannabis or operate a casino — which they consider socially irresponsible and a threat to their tribal sovereignty.

There’s really just one thing that Mr. Hill says would be an acceptable form of payment: land.

The Onondaga insist they are not looking to displace anyone. Instead they hope the state might turn over a tract of unspoiled land for the nation to hunt, fish, preserve or develop as it sees fit. One such repatriation effort is underway: the return of 1,000 acres as a part of a federal settlement with Honeywell International for the contamination of Onondaga Lake. The United States has not contested the Onondaga's account of how the nation lost its land. Indeed, the lawyers representing the United States in the Onondaga case have centered their argument on legal precedence, noting that courts at every level — including the U.S. Supreme Court — rejected the Onondaga’s claims as too old and most remedies too disruptive to the region’s current inhabitants.

To the Onondaga, the logic required to square these contentions seems unfair. Why should the United States be allowed to steal their land and face no obligation to give some back?[...]

In New York, [...] Native people were not considered to have standing to sue on their own behalf until 1987.[...]

In 2005, the Onondaga filed a version of their current claim in Federal District Court in the Northern District of New York, naming as defendants the State of New York, its governor, Onondaga County, the City of Syracuse and a handful of the companies responsible for the environmental degradation over the past centuries. A similar case filed by the Oneida Nation was, at the time, pending before the Supreme Court.

But just 18 days after the Onondaga filed their petition, the Supreme Court rejected the Oneidas’ case. The decision referenced an colonial-era legal theory known as the Doctrine of Discovery, which holds in part that Indigenous property claims were nullified by the “discovery” of that land by Christians.

The “long lapse of time” and “the attendant dramatic changes in the character” precluded the Oneida nation from the “disruptive remedy” it sought, Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg wrote in the majority decision.[...]

[L]awyers for the Onondaga used the rejection as the premise for a new argument. They contended that the U.S. court system’s refusal to find in their favor proved that they could not find justice in the United States.

The petition filed before the international commission amounts to the most direct challenge of the United States’ treatment of Indigenous people to date in terms of human rights — and the first to apply the lens of colonialism.

“What the Onondaga litigation is doing right now is to force a political dialogue with the colonial occupier,” said Andrew Reid, a lawyer representing the Onondaga, adding that a favorable finding could prompt a political conversation about the United States’s treatment of native people on the world stage.

Representatives for the State Department declined to be interviewed and did not respond to requests for comment. But in legal documents, the United States contended that the Onondaga’s central claims have been rejected in prior cases; that they have had “abundant opportunity” for their case to be heard; and that they are merely unhappy with the outcome. It also contended that the commission has no jurisdiction, given that the bulk of the nation’s losses took place two centuries before it was established.

“The judicial process functioned as it should have in this matter,” the United States wrote in legal papers.

15 Mar 24

[somewhere-on-venus]

So you want to worship Aphrodite?

Aphrodite goddess of love, beauty, sexuality and so on.

Born of seafoam, goddess of the peoples hearts.

Aphrodite has been a big part of my life for awhile... Shes blessed me in many ways! And if you want to work with her I hope to help you.

I won't be going into her history in this post, this is more of a guide on how to get started on worshipping her.

The first thing alot of people ask about is how to build that connection, how to reach out. With any deity I work with I started out leaving an offering, lighting a candle and/or incense and offering my devotion through prayer. I then usually follow up with divination of some form to build on the relationship and get to know them. As for offerings I find it can be flexible to what you have. But I'll list off some traditional and other kinds of offerings here first!

Offerings~

• frankincense incense

• apple

• eggs

• strawberries

• chocolate

• honey

• roses

• olives

• wine/mulled wine

• raisins/grapes

• perfume

• cosmetics

• shells

These are just a few but there are plenty more.

I personally when I'm short on any of these I offer her some of my own food. Theres been times where she has gotten a pizza pocket but a big thing is to remember is to not stress about this! The gods are understanding, they won't be mad and Aphrodite certainly wont be! The biggest thing that matters is that it comes from the heart...

Ill also listen some plants and food associated with her as it might also be helpful for offerings.

• rosemary

• hibiscus

• Jasmine

• myrtle

• mint

• cinnamon

• basil

• cannabis

• lettuce

• strawberries

• pomegranate

• iris

• myyrh

• vanilla

• ginger

• peach

• frankincense

Associated animals

• doves

• sparrows

• waterfowl

• dolphins

Crystals

• rose quartz

• pearl

• aquamarine

• jade

• moonstone

• rhodolite

• carnelian

Setting up an altar

Personally I set up a small altar space first... I see it as welcoming them into my home, healing them settle/get comfortable. It would be like maybe getting your home presentable and such for a new friend coming over. And I believe that when approaching the gods you should do it like that, great them as a new friend. Be respectful, don't rush into it and be welcoming.

When I first set up my altar to Aphrodite I looked around my room for what I could use first. I wouldn't rush into buying stuff until you've established that connection.

I searched for shells, pink items, fake flowers etc. I even put toys and jewelry that reminded me of her on there. I also used a tea light and pink spell candles.

This was my first altar:

If you have any questions let me know.. I will do posts like these on other deities I worship soon 🩷

(also this is from my personal experience.. I hope it is helpful though)

[captainpondlilly]

Okay! The Gilear plush has arrived. This is my best attempt at all of his lines. Two have been unintelligible to me, and several are pretty long and fast which made it hard to follow.

My search history is.. hospitals near me, foot stuck in object, head stuck in object

You're low, he's low, It's Gilear's day baby!*

A guy on the street kicked me in the nuts as hard he could

I don't like "lunchlad"

Help me to understand what I have done to deserve this

My horoscope says "today is a good day to die motherfucker"

I ate a quick cup of yogurt on the way over here to bolster my spirits after I changed, I'm ever so sorry

What do you mean "When" life gives you lemons

I went to apply for the guidance counselor position but I was usurped by a drug dealing werewolf named Jawbone

In my haste to put the armor on I buckled the leg plate and think I clipped the tip of my penis against one of the leg plates and Everytime I move it feels like it might fall off so I ASSURE you demon I have no pride to speak of!

In highschool I was voted "Most Likely To Get Pushed Out Of A Tree"

My car was repossessed by the ride share app that I was working for

It's actually a good thing that no one came to my birthday party because the bounce house flooded and was swept out to sea

I just discovered that *all* of my emails have been going to everyone's spam

Unfortunately I have been banned from that hot air balloon service not because of anything that happened to me in particular but the guys who run it just sort of know my whole deal

Mmm this yogurt tastes like *potatoes*

I asked the woman at Home Depot why my plants kept dying and she said it seemed like they were reaching away from the sun

I've found out recently that one of my shoes is so filled with mildew because a pipe in my bedroom is leaking and I've developed a fungal infection in my foot which I didn't know was possible for elves to get

I don't think that I've ever "Peaked" in that we started neutral and have been going downhill ever since

I am currently trapped in a storm drain. The bottom half of me is above the ground, the other is below

Another Own Goal for Gilear Faeth, yes

Everyone knows you eat 7 spiders in your sleep every year, but I have a bunch coming into me the backway

My sandcastle I'm afraid was destroyed, as I was about to finish it, the tide came in and with it a man holding a bazooka who shot me and killed me

I know you're not going to believe this but Ive just been kicked by a snake

I found out the hard way that people can legally reject status as an emergency contact

The title of my autobiography is going to be Gilear Faeth: Please Stop

On my way here I was carrying a large bowl of Italian wedding soup which shattered on the ground in front of me and several of the small pasta balls rolled through the cracks and alerted vermin to my presence. I've since learned after a trip to the hospital I am deathly allergic to the sting of millipedes which is a way of me saying I need someone to come down to the hospital and pay for this. There is a doctor holding a gun to my head and now that I think about it this clinic is in the back of a storage unit and I think have gone to the wrong place

he said and I quote "he'd stomp my goon ass" if I ever got on his bus again

Gorthalax it was very nice to meet you, you've made a cuckold of me

We're the throw up boys!*

I've been informed that the brownies I consumed were laced with cannabis and rat poison

I am completely unprepared for the perils ahead and am deeply frightened, I'll go get the coffee

A gorilla monster punched me so hard in the back of the head I died

Today I have been hit by 3 scooters

Everytime you squeeze my hand it breaks several small bones

My imaginary friend as a child ghosted me because he said I was too depressing

Do you want me to go back? I warn you, it will break me

Can I interest you in an herbal soda? You must understand I am an intern at a ponzi scheme*

When I go to sleep at night I dream of a world where I might be able to walk through a field without stepping on a rake or gopher hole

If anyone needs me... I will be surprised.

If it wasn't for bad luck, Id have no luck is both true and what was written upon the billboard I crashed through

I wonder if any of these will feature in Junior year 👀

*Thanks to @cappa-cappa for telling me the lines I wasn't able to make out!!

[anothertransauthor]

hiya !! this is a bit of an odd request but is there any chance you'd be willing to write pickles x reader , where the reader has shied away from alcohol / substances all their life until they start embracing them after becoming close with pickles ? all good if not , thank you and have a great day !! o7

Oooh i kinda adore this trope ngl. keep coming with these bangers im so excited!

Only With You

Summary: Dethklok's newest babysitter has been observed to be quite the dildo. They never want to drink with them, smoke, or generally party with them in a significant way. Pickles opens his own investigation into them and starts to genuinely enjoy the time they spend alone. Maybe he'll lower their walls, and open them to some new mind-altering experiences.

Warning: obvious drug and alcohol use, as a general pot user I'm going to be as specific as possible. I'm going to make this as fluffy as possible but there might be some suggestive content. Reader has they/them pronouns

Word count: 2345

"What are you? Schome kind of fucking schquare?" Murderface quipped, a mischievous glint in his eye as he nudged Nathan playfully. "Yeah, come on, don't be a dildo," Nathan retorted, his deep voice rumbling with frustration as he batted Will away from him.

Their banter filled the cramped bar, the air heavy with the scent of stale beer and cigarette smoke. Neon lights flickered overhead, casting a dim glow on the worn-out furniture and peeling wallpaper. As the tension between Murderface and Nathan escalated, Toki attempted to intervene, his gentle voice drowned out by Skwisgaar's disdainful remarks about both of them being a "lady dildos." The atmosphere grew increasingly tense, their argument blending with the other patrons' raucous laughter and clinking glasses.

Feeling overwhelmed, y/n glanced around the bar, a headache forming from the noise. Just as they were about to suggest leaving, Pickles came to the rescue, a mischievous smirk on his lips.

"I know a quiet spot; let's dip while they're distracted," Pickles suggested, his voice low and inviting. The air was heavy with the scent of cigarette smoke and distant laughter, creating a hazy ambiance that enveloped them both.

Y/n hesitated, a flicker of concern crossing their features. "I don't know, Charles might kill me for leaving them by themselves," they replied, their voice tinged with uncertainty.

Pickles waved off their concern with a casual shrug. "He'll get over it as long as they don't drive. Then again, they wouldn't leave without me. So therefore, we can hang out in a cool alleyway while they drink themselves to the ground."

With a sigh, y/n bit their lip, their mind racing with conflicting thoughts. Despite their hesitation, the allure of escape beckoned, tempting them to leave the chaos of the bar behind.

After much internal debate, y/n finally nodded and walked with Pickles into the alley. It was nothing spectacular, but the relative quietness offered a welcome respite from the clamor of the bar. The cool wind brushed against their skin, causing goosebumps to rise on their arms.

"So uh...this is where you run off to when they get loud," y/n remarked, their breath forming wispy clouds in the frosty air. "Shoulda known to check the alley."

"Aww, you look for me?" Pickles teased, his voice laced with amusement as he pulled a joint from his pocket.

Y/n watched in awe as Pickles took a long drag, the smoke swirling around him like a halo. The air was thick with the scent of cannabis, earthy and pungent, mingling with the sharp bite of the night air. "For as much as you brag about being rich, you think your lighter could use an upgrade?" y/n teased, their voice laced with amusement.

"Eh... this lighter and I have a history," Pickles chuckled softly, leaning against the cold brick wall. "I smoked my first ever blunt with this Zippo... would you believe I stole it from my dad?"

As Pickles continued to talk about other crazy stories, y/n found themselves drawn in by his easy charm and effortless charisma. They watched as his fingers traced over the worn metal, the flickering flame casting dancing shadows on the alley wall.

"Yeah...I believe it," y/n replied, their voice soft with admiration. "So you've been smoking a long time, huh?"

"For as long as I can remember, y'know, before I got into the other shit," Pickles admitted, nudging a crate beside him. "You've been standing a while; you should sit."

Their body moved instinctively, gravitating towards Pickles as they settled onto the crate beside him. With a sigh of relief, y/n felt the tension begin to melt away, replaced by a sense of calmness in Pickles' presence.

The silence between them was almost palpable, the only sound the soft rustle of the wind and the occasional clink of cans on the ground. Despite their attempts to enjoy the tranquility, y/n couldn't shake the nagging feeling of restlessness that gnawed at their mind.

"Wow..." they laughed awkwardly, their fingers fidgeting with their sleeves. "A whole five minutes without being asked to partake...must be a new record."

"No sense in pushing it; it's a waste of good pot," Pickles remarked casually, his demeanor relaxed and nonchalant. "Besides, the first high will be shit if you don't know what you're getting into."

Y/n nodded in agreement, their gaze drifting down to their hands. "You just make it look so easy..."

Pickles tilted his head, the crimson strands of his hair falling over his shoulder as he regarded y/n with a knowing smile. "Make what look easy?"

"Everything!" y/n blurted out, their words tumbling out in a rush of emotion. "Just...everything you do is effortless. You make it look so easy to talk to people and operate under pressure like nothing affects you. I want to relax, and I want the rest of the band to like me...and I shouldn't be rambling right now, but it's like I can't stop myself because my brain just won't—"

"Shut up?" Pickles interrupted gently.

Y/n blushed brightly, their cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "S-sorry..."

"No...like your brain just won't shut up? I get it. Hell, why do you think I smoke this stuff?" Pickles reassured them, nudging them with his shoulder. "It's not easy being so laid back; it takes practice."

"Practice?" y/n echoed, their curiosity piqued.

Pickles nodded, his gaze steady and unwavering. "Gotta practice not worrying what other people think. I'm fucking famous; who cares what nobody at the bar has to say? It's vain, I know, but it works. It's easy to be friends with people when you can shut off that little nag in the back of your head. You just have to stop assuming people are out to get you."

Y/n nodded in understanding, their thoughts swirling as they absorbed Pickles' words of wisdom. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, the silence punctuated only by the soft sound of their laughter and the occasional drag of the joint. Despite the cold, y/n felt a warmth spreading through them, a sense of peace settling over their troubled mind. As they sat side by side, y/n couldn't help but admire Pickles' easygoing demeanor and the way he seemed to effortlessly navigate through life's challenges. For a moment, they forgot about their worries and insecurities, lost in the simple pleasure of his company. And as they took a hesitant puff of the joint, feeling the smoke fill their lungs and the tension melting away, y/n realized that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

Their eyes wandered over Pickles, taking in every detail with an almost reverent appreciation. Each freckle, every smile line, and the faint scars that adorned his skin told a story of a life well-lived, adding to his allure in the dimly lit alleyway. Despite the chill in the air, the warmth emanating from Pickles enveloped them, comforting and reassuring like a soft embrace.

As they sat there, a thought lingered in their mind: why was everything about him just so perfect? His casual demeanor, his effortless charm—it all seemed to come naturally to him, effortlessly captivating those around him.

Caught off guard by Pickles' quizzical expression, y/n felt a blush creep into their cheeks as they realized they had been caught staring. But Pickles' playful demeanor quickly put them at ease, his snicker breaking the tension that hung in the air.

"You see something you like?" he cheesed lightly, dramatically waggling his brows.

"No- I mean yes- I mean- shit.... uh-"

"Relax, I'm messing with you," Pickles chuckled, his voice laced with amusement. "I gotta teach you how to flirt."

"Heh...um, actually, I was maybe wondering if I could try..." y/n trailed off, their gaze flickering towards the burning joint in Pickles' hand.

"Holy shit, you actually wanna smoke with me?" Pickles exclaimed, genuine surprise coloring his tone.

"Well...kinda. Maybe it won't be so overwhelming if it's with you..." y/n admitted, their nerves beginning to dissipate in Pickles' reassuring presence.

"I'll take care of ya, don't worry," Pickles reassured them, passing the dutchie with a gentle hand. "Don't try to show off, ok? Baby hits..."

After calming their shaking hands, y/n carefully placed the joint between their lips, their senses heightened as they inhaled deeply. The taste was harsh, earthy, and unfamiliar, causing their shoulders to tense with each choppy cough.

"Deep breath. You're gonna choke no matter what, you got virgin lungs. 'S normal," Pickles reassured them, his voice gentle and reassuring.

"It tastes like dirt..." y/n grimaced, their discomfort evident in their expression.

"Well, it's weed; it's gonna taste bad," Pickles shrugged, his easygoing demeanor soothing y/n's nerves. "Take one more, then pass it back."

With a nod of determination, y/n took another deep breath, the smoke swirling around them in ethereal patterns. Despite the initial discomfort, a sense of calm washed over them, easing the tension in their shoulders and allowing them to relax fully in Pickles' company.

Pickles extinguished the joint with a flick of his wrist, the ember sputtering out as he tucked the carton back into his pocket. Leaning back against the cool brick wall, he regarded Y/n with a curious expression. "So, short stuff, how do you feel?" he asked, his voice tinged with genuine interest. Y/n raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing in their eyes. "You're one to talk," they scoffed, a small smile playing at their lips. "I feel…slow, but in a good way. Like, I can finally think clearly, funnily enough."

"Yeah?" Pickles raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Yeah...is this how you feel constantly?" y/n returned the question, genuinely curious about Pickles' experience.

"More or less," Pickles snorted, kicking around some cans on the ground with a lazy gesture. "I could get used to this," y/n mused, a sense of contentment settling over them like a warm blanket. "It feels…easier to talk as if a barrier was temporarily moved to the storage room of my brain. This is nice. Thanks, Pickles." "Hey, any time," Pickles replied, a genuine smile gracing his features. "You remind me a lot about myself, actually."

Y/n tilted their head curiously, they scooted closer to Pickles, craving his warmth in the chilly night air. "How so?" they asked, their voice soft and curious. Pickles paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face as he considered his response. "I used to worry about how everyone perceived me," he began, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "I was always so…strung up, like the world was out to get me." He chuckled softly, the sound rough and raspy in the stillness of the alley. "I know I'm nothing but a pampered, rich airhead," he admitted, his gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to meet y/n's eyes. "But I know this job keeping us out of trouble isn't exactly the easiest. If no one else is on your team, you can relax knowing that the world's best drummer is." Y/n felt a flutter in their chest, their cheeks flushing as they met Pickles' gaze in the dim lighting. His words were simple, yet they held a profound depth of meaning that resonated with them. "Pickles, I—" they started, their words catching in their throat as they struggled to articulate the whirlwind of emotions. They leaned away slightly, suddenly self-conscious about intruding on his personal space. But before they could retreat too far, Pickles grinned cheesily, his eyes sparkling with warmth. "Geez…you really are the coolest," they blurted out, a shy smile tugging at the corners of their lips. Pickles' grin widened, his laughter echoing off the walls of the alley. "You think?" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

The air between them crackled with anticipation as y/n struggled to find the right words, their gaze locked with Pickles' in an unspoken exchange of longing and desire. In that moment, everything else faded away—the noise of the city, the chill of the night air—leaving only the two of them, suspended in time. Pickles waited with bated breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he silently urged y/n to speak their truth. He could see the turmoil in their eyes, the raw vulnerability laid bare, and he felt a surge of tenderness wash over him.

Finally, y/n took a deep breath, their voice trembling slightly as they found the courage to voice their feelings. "Everything about you has always been cool," they began, their words soft and hesitant. "I wish I could say I was jealous, but…I don't think that's it." A flicker of understanding passed between them, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken attraction that had simmered beneath the surface for so long. Pickles' heart soared with a newfound sense of hope, his gaze never wavering from y/n's as he silently encouraged them to continue.

"Oh?" he prompted, his voice gentle but filled with anticipation. He knew what they were about to say, could feel it in the way their gaze lingered on him, and he silently willed them to take the leap. Y/n hesitated for a moment, their mind racing with a new uproar of butterflies. But then, with a surge of determination, they pushed aside their doubts and fears, allowing their heart to lead the way. "How do I say this…" they trailed off, their voice barely above a whisper. "Other than I just don't want tonight to end…" And in that moment, the weight of their confession hung heavy in the air, the tension between them palpable. But before either of them could say another word, Pickles closed the distance between them, his lips capturing Y/n's in a tender kiss.

Time seemed to stand still as they melted into each other, the world fading away until nothing was left but the warmth of their embrace. And as they pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, y/n felt a sense of peace settle over them, knowing they had finally found the courage to speak their truth. "Me neither," Pickles whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of longing and affection. "Let's make tonight last forever."

______________________________________________________________

ok that took a really really long time. now time to go back into my writer whole. Leave more requests for me :DD

EDIT: HI so for some fucking reason in the translation from docs to tumblr, half of the fucking fic was just OMITTED. HOW DID I NOT NOTICE UGHHHHH im so sorry yall if the pacing felt weird. thats what i get for not proof reading before i post but i was SO EXCITED to have another bomb fic doneeeeee.

[creativitycache]

Ok so according to the news articles Anonymous Sudan isn’t actually Sudanese but actually Russian agents pretending to be Sudanese Muslims to start shit with the goal of aligning Russia as “on our side”. Astroturfing a culture war.

Tbh idk why bother since -gestures broadly at American foreign politics for decades- but sure. Yeah. Let’s go with that.

And Russia has been aiming at AO3 for months apparently since AO3 didn’t remove teenage nsfw fics in Russian.

Ok. So. Um. Apparently Roskomnadzor/The Federal Service for Supervision of Communications, Information Technology and Mass Media has a long history of doing that, including targeting Russian Wikipedia because of their cannabis page.

Alright. Let’s keep rolling I guess.

So the end goal of Roskomnadzor is to censor the internet because they want control over what information can spread. And to do that they try to gain legitimacy/legality over “think of the children” pages. If they can censor Wikipedia for weed they can censor it for how to make Molotov Cocktails.

Ok…makes sense I guess…

So just looking at the “enforcement” section of Wikipedia it looks like to do that they block and if they can’t block they throttle and if they can’t throttle they fine and if they can’t fine they sue.

So what the fuck happened; some Russian office worker saw their squick & went full anti but thought it would be more politic to pretend to be Extremist Sudanese Muslim Hackers? Some 30 year old office Harry Potter stan said “Shit we can’t take on Ukraine & AO3 at the same time”?

[sentientcave]

Let's Riot!

When the Reader St arena gets bought out from under them by Morgan’s vengeful ex, Pippa Graves, The Reader St Riots suddenly find themselves without a practice space. Pippa may say she’ll play nice, but Morgan knows that she’ll either have to get back under Pippa’s manicured thumb or the whole team will be out on their ass in no time. Problem is, the only other practice space around that’s not booked up to the tits belongs to Jo Price, captain of the Femme41, and well… Morgan has a bit of ugly history with her too.

Still, Jo’s at least a little more reasonable than Pippa, and Morgan may hate to beg, but she’d hate to see the Riots disbanded more. And well, maybe there’s room for a little cooperation, especially when their teams get along so well.

Contains: Lesbians! Almost everyone is a woman (Alex is NB and there are like. A few men mentioned.) and most of them are gay, OCs: Readers and OCs from a bunch of my projects and also Bambi and Bricks who belong to the esteemed @dragonnarrative-writes , Roller Derby!, complicated dating histories, this is just a fun little palette cleanser because I got sad working on one of my other projects lmao, alcohol consumption, cannabis consumption

~3k - 18+ MDNI

“Frank, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

“Come on, sweetheart, calm down—”

“I am calm!” Morgan snapped.

Chelsea quickly put an arm in front of Morgan and dragged her back a step. Calling Morgan sweetheart was a great shortcut to her blowing her top. “You are definitely not calm.” She looked back at Frank. He stood between them and the doors to the arena, a short, balding man that looked a bit sweaty and nervous in the low light. “You couldn’t give us any notice?”

“Look, I’ll return your deposits for the month—”

“That’s not the issue!” Morgan's brown eyes flashed with fury, her jaw tight, like she wanted to bite the man, which would be distinctly unhelpful.

Chelsea dragged her back another step. “It is a little the issue. What happened? We’ve never had any trouble, we’ve always paid on time, there’s no reason why you’d drop us like this.”

“New owners,” he said weakly. “I’m sorry, they cancelled everyone. You were just at the bottom of the call list, and you got here before I could.”

“New owners! Since when was it for sale?”

“Hell if I know. They don’t tell me shit either. All I know is that Gerry came in here with some blond bi—" He thought twice about his wording, giving Morgan another nervous glance. "--Woman and she’s the boss now.”

Morgan walked in a tight circle, looking up at the sky, hands on her hips. This wasn’t happening. It didn’t have to be her. Maybe it was some other blond woman with money to burn. “Fuck.”

The doors behind Frank opened. “Oh, hey sugar,” a too-familiar voice rang out, southern accent distinctive. “Fancy meetin' you here.”

Morgan turned around sharply. “Pippa.”

Chelsea groaned. “Oh here we go.”

“Go back to your office, Frank. I think I’ve got this from here.” Phillipa Graves patted Frank on the shoulder and walked past him. “Morgan, I’ve missed you. You never return my calls anymore.”

“Is that what this is about?” Morgan shifted her grip on her bag, glancing toward the parking lot. Bricks and Doll were lingering at the edge, talking to each other and looking back with worried expressions. They knew the history between Morgan and Pippa well enough to be wary of what might happen next. “You’re gonna steal our practice space because I won’t call you back?”

“Aw, honey, don’t be like that. We’re all big girls. I figure we can learn to share. Why don’t you join us tonight? And early next week we can grab dinner and make a new schedule. I’m sure there’s a way to make sure we’re all… satisfied.” Pippa twisted one of Morgan’s curls around her finger, leaning in close. Even ready for practice, she looked perfect as always, more like she was about to model for a roller skate advertisement than actually practice. Sleek blonde hair swept back in a low braid, a tight pink tank top, leggings that clung to her thighs, pads on, skates off, preparation interrupted by all the fuss she was certainly expecting.

“I’m the one that does the scheduling, usually,” Chelsea interjected. “Maybe it’s us that should get dinner.”

“If you like,” Pippa said smoothly, barely sparing Chelsea a glance. “The more the merrier, of course. Though I do have some personal business to talk over with Morgan too. Suppose it can wait.” She tapped Morgan under the chin with her first knuckle. “Come on, sugar, practice with us. We’re not so bad. And you’re all already here, ain’t you?”

“We’ll have to talk it over.”

“Course. Y’all come on in when you’re done talkin’.” Pippa winked at Morgan and sauntered back inside.

Chelsea sighed, elbowing Morgan as they walked over to the others. The rest of the team had gathered around Bricks, her height marked among the group of shorter women. “You’re gonna have to sleep with her.”

Morgan rolled her eyes. “I’d really rather not.”

“She’s not going to be reasonable,” Billie pointed out. “She’s pure evil. She’s the head of the PTA at Ellie’s school, and she runs that shit like the navy. She’s gonna bend us over a barrel to get what she wants.”

“Have you ever tried not having antagonistic relationships with your exes?” Bricks asked. “Because that’s what I do, and no one has bought a whole arena just to fuck with me.”

“Yet,” Doll said reassuringly. “It could still happen.”

“The whole team is awful,” Bambi said. “One of them works in my office, and she’s a real— Well, I don’t like her.”

“Harsh words, DB.” Bricks propped her hands on her hips. “We can suck it up for one night, a free practice is a free practice. And if you have to flutter your eyelashes at her the whole time, you’re gonna do it.” She pointed at Morgan accusingly. “This is your fault.”

“It is not!”

“It is,” Chelsea said solemnly, fixing her pink bun from on top of her head to low on the nape of her neck to fit under her helmet. “Pussy game is clearly too strong. Maybe try being a worse fuck.”

“She can’t.” Bricks gently turned Morgan around so that she was facing the doors, and nudged her forward a step. “She doesn’t know how.”

Chelsea turned fully toward the others, walking backward. “Alright, drills only, we’re not going to let them goad us into a scrimmage, they’re gonna play dirty as hell with no refs, and we can’t afford an injury this close to a game. Keep it loose, and if anyone hassles you, come to me, or come to Bricks. Do not tell Morgan or she’s gonna punch someone and we’re gonna lose our space for good.”

“I’m not!”

Bricks laughed and caught Chelsea’s arm, spinning her before she hit the edge of the door. “Yes you are, Morgan. Stay on your best behaviour. Maybe even try being charming.”

Bunny nudged Dancer, grinning. “If you’d joined up last year, like I told you to, you could have been here for the whole explosion. It was great.”

“Great?” Billie asked, raising her eyebrows. “Were we watching the same breakup?”

Bricks glanced over her shoulder warningly. “Save it for drinks, ladies, or Morgan’s gonna make us skate line drills till we drop.”

They dropped their bags along the benches and geared up, watching the Shadows zip around the track. The Shadows were mean, not just on the track, but off too, in that sugar sweet way that left you wondering if you were just reading into it. They were a pretty well-rounded team, and coordinated, thanks to Pippa. She did nothing in half-measures. It seemed impossible that she’d be able to raise children, run school events, coach a junior team as well as an adult one, somehow have a job on top, and still have time to run around keeping two relationships secret from each other for nearly eight months, but Pippa was the kind of woman who really could have it all.

The Riots were… A good team. Pippa had poached two of their players during the breakup drama, and Pepper had moved back home to take care of her grandmother, and they were still trying to get back to where they had been a year ago. Kitten Caboodle and Break Dancer were pretty solid for fresh meat, but with a small team and only four of them with more than a few years experience, it was rough going out there. Hard not to get demoralized when Kortac had beaten them 240 to 60 during their last game. No one’s fault really— Bunny and Sweetpea had been out sick and neither Kitty or Dancer were prepared to jam more than a few rounds with players that rough. They’d gotten shaken, so Morgan and Billie had done most of the jams. Nobody and Freddie Kruger had just torn right through their weakened pack while Morgan and Bill tried to wrestle their way past Queenie.

Once Dancer and Kitty got more confident, they’d be hard to catch. Kitty was tiny, and Dancer was agile, but they both needed more time. Doll and Bambi, who had joined a little over a year ago had turned out to be a highly effective set of blockers— Small, but sturdy and hard to knock down. When they were out on the track with Bricks or Chelsea, they were nigh impossible to get past, which would leave their fourth blocker free to assist the jammer, in an ideal world.

The ideal world simply had five more players in it. Maybe more, since no one but Morgan and Bricks made it to every game.

Later on, worn out and sweaty from practice, crammed into the biggest booth at a diner that was roughly equidistant between everyone’s homes and the arena (and the young man that worked the fryers had a massive crush on Sweetpea, which meant everyone got more fries), they debriefed.

“That’s gonna be tricky for me to stomach long term,” Morgan admitted. “I’m gonna sleep with Pip if I have to be too nice.”

“You don’t actually have to sleep with her, you know,” Bricks said.

“No… I’m gonna.”

“We can find somewhere else,” Billie suggested. “I don’t want Morgan and Pip to get back together, it was so annoying when they were. All in favour of Morgan not fucking Pippa, say aye.” She raised her hand to note the measure.

“Aye,” they intoned together, all raising their hands as well.

“Simone says the Femme41 practice out of Jo’s warehouse now. Pippa did the same thing to them eight months ago. I bet they’d let us skate there.” Bricks tossed another fry into her mouth. “If someone behaves herself.”

Morgan scoffed. “It’s impossible for me to date another one of her girlfriends, her relationships hardly last the weekends now.”

Bunny mouthed the word Pippa at Kitty and Dancer.

“Then you won’t have a problem asking her,” Chelsea said. “Maybe bake her something nice as an overture. A pie or something. You make good pies.”

Morgan winced. “We have a game against them this weekend. We could ask her all together.”

Billie shook her head. “No, this one’s on you. Captain to captain conversation. You have Chelsea’s schedule key, you can negotiate for a time that works.”

“And if she says no? She hates my guts.”

“Wear something low cut and bake her a pie,” Bricks suggested. “Maybe just go wearing nothing but an apron.”

“I’ve got one that says Born To Be A Lesbian Housewife,” Doll said. “You can borrow it. It’s very frilly.”

Bambi giggled. “I’ve got one that says Vagitarian.”

Doll laughed too, knocking her head against Bambi’s shoulder. “That’s way better, Morgan, borrow that one.”

"I'm not going to-- Did you people hear me when I said she hates my guts?"

"She still has eyes, Morgan," Bricks said. "And you have nice tits."

"If you don't sort this out, we might have to disband to other teams. And I don't want to. I like you guys." Chelsea looped an arm around Kitty. "We started this team because we wanted to get together and have fun and challenge ourselves without it getting so damn competitive or mean. Bill and I are not going back to the Shadows, and there's no way Bricks wants to go back to Kortac. So put on your big girl panties and a cute dress, and charm Jo into sharing the warehouse with us. Got it?"

"Got it." Morgan sank back into her seat with a groan. I'll talk to her after work tomorrow."

"Good," Billie said, a note of finality in her voice. "Now, did anyone else watch Game of Dragons last night? I have opinions."

By the time Morgan got home, walked Laika, showered, ate cold leftovers out of the fridge and stepped out on her balcony with a joint, it was well past dark, and she was bone tired. Jo was out on her own balcony, feet up, smoking a cigar. She was a thick, barrel chested woman, wearing a tank top and jeans, cigar in one hand, glass of whiskey in the other. Her hair was longer than usual, tucked behind her ears, like she'd been growing it out. It had been a while since Morgan saw her without a hat on.

They acknowledged each other with a curt nod, and Morgan settled into her swing chair, tucking her feet up underneath her. Laika went to the railing to give Jo the biggest, saddest eyes she could.

Jo maybe didn't like Morgan much, but it was hard not to like Laika. The big goofy rottweiler loved almost everyone, and knew exactly how to get what she wanted (big sad eyes, a few pathetic whines, a raised paw, if need be). It was only a minute before Jo was up and leaning over the railing to give Laika a pet.

Usually they didn't speak. The smallest things seemed to spark up into fights between them, and Morgan found it was easier just to keep their interactions to a minimum.

So it was a surprise when Jo spoke first. "Rough night?"

"Yeah. You could say that."

"Want to talk about it?"

“Thank you for pretending to care, but not really.” She grimaced. It really was the perfect opportunity to ask, but it was hard to shake the habit of brushing Jo off.

Jo snorted. “You know, I really preferred fightin’ to this cold shoulder treatment.”

“That’s because you’re a disagreeable sort of woman.”

“That’s the spirit, pet. But you can do better than that. C’mere.”

Morgan glared at her. “No. I’m good where I am actually.” She looked the other way, puffing on the joint. She could ask tomorrow. She wasn’t in a mood to deal with anyone else tonight. Having to smile and play nice with Pippa had been bad enough. She needed a good sleep before she could even pretend to be friendly to anyone else.

She startled when Jo’s thick fingers plucked the joint out of her hand. “Hey! I didn’t invite you over here.”

“Your weed’s better than mine.”

“Probably because I grow it myself. What do you want?”

Jo sat down on the solid little coffee table in front of Morgan, holding her cigar and whiskey glass in one hand. She leaned forward, glass resting lightly on her knee, bleeding condensation into the denim. Mixed drink, then, not straight whiskey. Jo drank the better stuff neat. “Pip called me today.”

“Oh yeah?”

Jo hummed, offering the joint back, blue eyes stern. “Don’t be coy, if you’re fuckin’ her again I’d rather know than get blindsided bumpin’ into her in the hallway.”

“Did she tell you we were?”

Jo’s jaw clenched tight. “She said she was lookin’ forward to seein’ you tonight.”

“Well I’m sure it was super nice for her. She bought my team’s arena. I am gonna have to start fucking her if I want to keep our usual practice slots. She made that… Well about as clear as she ever makes anything.” Morgan handed the joint over again. “So not very, but I still got the gist of it.” She scrunched up Laika’s ears, humming. Laika’s tail solidly thumped against Jo’s shin, bridging the space between them.

“Extortionist,” Jo scoffed.

“Yeah. Pretty much. Bricks said you might take pity on us if I asked nicely. I know you practice out of your warehouse.” Morgan lifted her eyes back up to Jo’s face.

“Is this you askin’ nicely?” Jo leaned forward slightly, her soft stomach spilling over her belt a bit, biceps flexing as she leaned more weight on her arms. “You can do better than that. Not so much as a please.”

“It was not me asking nicely. I had no intention of talking to you until tomorrow, and I’m still not asking until I’ve had at least four hours of uninterrupted sleep.”

“Surprised you’d come to me.”

Morgan looked away first, just like she always did. Jo had an intensity to her that was hard to match, blue eyes drilling into her own like she was looking for faults she could use to crack her open entirely. It was much easier to study the freckles on the top of her shoulder, just above the pinup girl sitting on the curve of a crescent moon that looked rather a lot like her ex wife, Sadie. “I wouldn’t if I had literally any other option. But I have to admit that you are slightly more tolerable than Pippa. Even if you do park half in my spot and fuck squealing college girls at all hours of the night.”

“You don’t need the space. You have a bike.”

“So that gives you the right to park your big-dick pickup truck wherever you please?”

“Sure does, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart! We have one conversation that doesn’t make me want to punch you, and you have to ruin it.”

She grinned, shifting back again. “Not being very nice to someone you want to ask a favour from.”

“I’m not asking the favour until tomorrow. I’m too grumpy to be nice tonight. You invited yourself over and plopped yourself down in front of me and started smoking my weed.” This was not helpful. Why did Jo always manage to get her this worked up? She drew in a centring breath. “No, you’re right, I should be nicer.”

"I did bogart your joint," Jo conceded. "That's on me." Rather than hand it back, she took a long drag, the cherry burning bright all the way down to the folded cardboard filter, and dropped the remains in the ashtray. She leaned forward again, cupping the back of Morgan's neck with a strong hand, and blew smoke directly into Morgan's face. She grinned wickedly when Morgan spluttered a bit. "What's wrong, pet? Thought you wanted me to share better."

"Maybe I am better off negotiating with Pippa," Morgan grumbled, swatting Jo's hand away.

"Hm. Maybe. Why don't you think about how you'll ask me about practice space tomorrow, and I'll get out of your hair." Jo stood up, gave Laika another pat, and climbed back over to her side of the balcony without another word.

Morgan ushered Laika inside, fuming again, and furiously got ready for bed.

She was sure of one thing; Jo Price was going to make a truce between them nigh impossible.

Title card made on Canva - Image Credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 (Stickers are Canva assets) Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[winniethewife]

Spontaneously combust

(Nathan Bateman x F!reader)

A/N Inspired by a Prompt by @gingersforeverbox

Warning: Drug use, Weed

Words: 579

She had been surprised that after she had slipped out side for a quick smoke break, Nathan had followed her out. She had been staying with him for a couple months now. Hired to keep him company out here in the middle of nowhere, and occasionally help out around the complex, she could hardly believe it had been real when she had applied to the job, and gotten the interview. It seemed like dream, hang out with a rich dude in the middle of nowhere for money? Why the hell not. There had been a lot of safety procedures, background checks and trial visits, a very elaborate contract, which could be summed up into “I promise I’m not a serial killer. Sign here.”  And after the bumpy getting to know you period of the relationship she had started to settle in. At first she thought that Nathan was just an asshole, but really he was just, eccentric. However usually when she slipped outside in the evening to smoke a joint to calm her nerves, he didn’t follow. She had guessed he just wasn’t interested in it, but she had been wrong. As they pass the joint back and forth, she can’t help but smile at him.

“What? Is there something on my face?” Nathan asks running his fingers through his beard, after passing the joint back to her.

“No, I just don’t think I’ve seen you so relaxed before.” She shrugs and takes a drag from the joint before looking out into the wilderness again. After they finish the joint they head inside and both of them sit in the living area as the effects of the marijuana start to kick in, Nathan starts to ramble, going on and on about the science around Cannabis, How its grown, how it can be used, the history of its use. She was smiling at him, she loved it when he started on like this. She could listen to his voice for hours.

“Cannabis plants are diecious - meaning there are both female and male versions of the plant. You can tell the sex of the plat is female if pistils are present, whereas males have stamen. It’s the female plants that flower and produce what you smoke, while males are really only valuable for breeding.” As he talks he uses his hands to emphasize different point’s he’s making. He’s leaning back in the chair as he rambles on. She smiles, enjoying the way he looks, the way he talks, the way he…exists. That’s when she lets the thought slip.

“Mmm, Please never stop talking Nathan, I love the way you sound…I love you.” She softly mutters, she was obviously out of it, but at the same time, Nathan could instantly tell she was being completely honest. He froze, his mind short circuiting. Did she really just say that? He wanted to take her in his arms, tell her all the things he had been thinking over the time she had been staying with him. He wanted to feel her skin under his hands… He just can’t, his entire body frozen by her words, his mind slowed to a screeching hault with the effects of the plant he was just rambling about. He blinks twice as he looks at her, his lips parted softly in a state of shock. He realizes he should say something, anything, but realistically he’s too high not to say exactly what he means.

“I…I love you too.”

~

Masterlist

Tags: @burymesanti

[misspjsuperior]

Medusa, the OG stonergirl 👁️🪨 Almost all of us are familiar with her legendary petrifying gaze. It is mentioned in the earliest records of Medusa and her monstrous gorgon family. What is also mentioned in ancient texts by 500 BC is that unlike her immortal family, Medusa was mortal as well as remarkably beautiful. The origin story of how she got her defensive power comes much later from the Roman poet Ovid during the turn of the common era. Yep, dude lived through the turnover from BC to now times. Ovid wrote that Neptune found Medusa in a temple to Minerva, goddess of war and intellect, and forced himself upon her. When Minerva found out, Neptune blamed Medusa for coming on to him. Because Medusa was a gorgon and not a fellow god like her uncle Neptune, Minerva chooses to punish Medusa by giving her a gorgon figure like her sisters, with snakes for hair. 🐍 As a result of the betrayal, Medusa’s gaze turns men to stone. Relatable to sexual assault survivors, Medusa has become a symbol of righteous rage for many feminists. We can understand Ovid’s version as a critique on power when we look at history and realize that he was in resistance to political corruption in ancient Rome.

Obviously, and sadly, this critique’s relevance to society both predated Ovid’s time and has followed into modernity. Ovid’s myth shaping also demonstrates how storytelling and art can shape historical and mythological memory in society, how concepts of divinity and the personas projected upon these divine forces in the form of gods are forged from human imagination in order to make sense of not just the workings of nature but of relationships within civilization.

An an artist I have taken my own liberties with the Medusa myth in self portraiture. Playing with the “stoning” powers of Medusa’s gaze, I’ve drawn a “stoner” tattoo on her wrist as she burns one down. This is also in acknowledgment to the Ovidian origin story in which Medusa is explained as an assault survivor with a nod to how cannabis has been a clinically proven medicine for PTSD in association to such experiences and yet remains often vilified similarly to Medusa.

https://misspjsuperior.etsy.com/listing/1588503886

[magicturtle]

Can I ask your opinion of a RPG writing trope? I listen to a podcast “System Mastery”, that reviews old RPGs that are no longer in print or first editions of RPGs that are on new editions now. One of the things they can’t stand is the trope of American Indians and Mexicans reverting to horse back, tepees, human sacrifice, worshipping spirits, building pyramids, and etc…. after some kind of apocalypse happens or they go out into the stars or different dimension. Something happens to separate them from the “white men .” They find the idea preposterous and pretty cringey because these books are written by white men usually and show an idolized version of the “noble savage”. They feel, why would natives give up cars, modern medicine, houses, roads, and bunch of other modern things just because there has been some kind of reset.

I can see that point. And I can think of all the games I have seen that trope, Shadowrun and Gamma World are good examples. I have also seen it in some other sci fi games. Interestingly White Wolf has a version of this in the world of darkness setting. The supernatural creatures are worshipped as gods or spirits by the natives. Werewolves by shamans and vampires as descendants of the bloody gods of the Aztecs. On the surface this all does seem ridiculous and can be dismissed as all just being fiction.

However, there is a lot of resentment by natives of having their culture, beliefs, language and so much more being stripped away by people that are invaders. Would they gladly undo the negatives and positives that were introduced by these invading cultures if given the chance? Would they rebuild what they lost just as it once was? I have read some articles and seen some videos about Latin American gangs worshiping their version of the old Aztec gods. And new gods that they have invented for the current times. There are also less violent new gods that have been invented. I saw how some of the old Mayan shamans are keeping the old beliefs alive in the rural parts of central America. And how there is still a lot of blending of native beliefs and Catholic beliefs throughout Latin America.

What do you think? Is there a long simmering longing for the old ways just below the surface just waiting to be released by some sort of catastrophic event?

To this day colonized peoples either maintain their old beliefs or hold some syncretized version. All you have to do is look at the way the Loa or the Orishas survived in the Caribbean, the supplicants of heretical saints like Santa Muerte, or culturally negotiated holidays like Carnaval or Dia de Muertos. Often white people in the US don’t know much about these current practices because A) they don’t care and B) many are private or even secret. Instead our cool, white dude writers and game designers focus on what they DO know, the ancient history of these groups. This is why white coded populations evolve, but non-white coded ones “revert”. It would be nice to see someone who actually knows these groups extrapolate current cultures into futurism, post apocalypse or “returned magic”. I haven’t read Coyote and Crow, but I hear that’s what they’re going for.

I will say that even in the defense of marginalizes groups being “reverted” there is a clear bias. Why would a community give up cars? …Are cars good? Can we honestly look at our communities, our cities, our environment, and unequivocally say, “this is clearly a net good for the world”? Traditional medicine is also frequently shot down by “logical people” until decades in, scientists “discover” analgesic or antibiotic properties. Isn’t it great that we’ve started unlocking the potential of cannabis only 1000 years after the Nahua were using it medicinally?

Hope this addresses your question.

Thanks for writing in!

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

New SpaceTime out Friday

SpaceTime 20240823 Series 27 Episode 102

Fairwell to NASA’s NEOWISE spacecraft

NASA’s infrared NEOWISE space telescope has relayed its final data stream to Earth bringing the historic mission to an end.

What time is it on the Moon?

Scientists are developing a plan for precise timekeeping on the Moon. For decades, the Moon's subtle gravitational pull has posed a vexing challenge—atomic clocks on its surface would tick faster than those on Earth by about 56 microseconds per day.

Europe’s Space Rider successfully completes its drop tests

Over the last four months, the European Space Agency’s reusable Space Rider test article has been undertaking a series of drop tests in the skies above the Italian Island of Sardinia.

The Science Report

Droughts, heatwaves, fire and fertilisers causing soils to store less carbon.

A link discovered between heavy cannabis use and increased risk of head and neck cancers.

Giving AI chatbots political bias

Skeptics guide to Werewolf Portals in England

SpaceTime covers the latest news in astronomy & space sciences.

The show is available every Monday, Wednesday and Friday through Apple Podcasts (itunes), Stitcher, Google Podcast, Pocketcasts, SoundCloud, Bitez.com, YouTube, your favourite podcast download provider, and from www.spacetimewithstuartgary.com

SpaceTime is also broadcast through the National Science Foundation on Science Zone Radio and on both i-heart Radio and Tune-In Radio.

SpaceTime daily news blog: http://spacetimewithstuartgary.tumblr.com/

SpaceTime facebook: www.facebook.com/spacetimewithstuartgary

SpaceTime Instagram @spacetimewithstuartgary

SpaceTime twitter feed @stuartgary

SpaceTime YouTube: @SpaceTimewithStuartGary

SpaceTime -- A brief history

SpaceTime is Australia’s most popular and respected astronomy and space science news program – averaging over two million downloads every year. We’re also number five in the United States.  The show reports on the latest stories and discoveries making news in astronomy, space flight, and science.  SpaceTime features weekly interviews with leading Australian scientists about their research.  The show began life in 1995 as ‘StarStuff’ on the Australian Broadcasting Corporation’s (ABC) NewsRadio network.  Award winning investigative reporter Stuart Gary created the program during more than fifteen years as NewsRadio’s evening anchor and Science Editor.  Gary’s always loved science. He studied astronomy at university and was invited to undertake a PHD in astrophysics, but instead focused on his career in journalism and radio broadcasting. Gary’s radio career stretches back some 34 years including 26 at the ABC. He worked as an announcer and music DJ in commercial radio, before becoming a journalist and eventually joining ABC News and Current Affairs. He was part of the team that set up ABC NewsRadio and became one of its first on air presenters. When asked to put his science background to use, Gary developed StarStuff which he wrote, produced and hosted, consistently achieving 9 per cent of the national Australian radio audience based on the ABC’s Nielsen ratings survey figures for the five major Australian metro markets: Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, Adelaide, and Perth.  The StarStuff podcast was published on line by ABC Science -- achieving over 1.3 million downloads annually.  However, after some 20 years, the show finally wrapped up in December 2015 following ABC funding cuts, and a redirection of available finances to increase sports and horse racing coverage.  Rather than continue with the ABC, Gary resigned so that he could keep the show going independently.  StarStuff was rebranded as “SpaceTime”, with the first episode being broadcast in February 2016.  Over the years, SpaceTime has grown, more than doubling its former ABC audience numbers and expanding to include new segments such as the Science Report -- which provides a wrap of general science news, weekly skeptical science features, special reports looking at the latest computer and technology news, and Skywatch – which provides a monthly guide to the night skies. The show is published three times weekly (every Monday, Wednesday and Friday) and available from the United States National Science Foundation on Science Zone Radio, and through both i-heart Radio and Tune-In Radio.

[queen-mabs-revenge]

Kamala Harris isn't your goofy wine aunt any more than Joe Biden was your "uncle you’d shake your head at but not think twice about—the sort of guy who’d wink and say, “Don’t let your meat loaf!” as a farewell."

As the former Onion editor in the article says, "I wish we had looked more at [Biden's] actual career in politics—which includes opposition to busing as a way to integrate schools and support for predatory financial institutions—and tried to really puncture him, rather than just turning him into a clown. We helped make him more likable by inventing a version of Biden that never existed."

Kamala Harris should not be unburdened by what has been, because what has been is a recent history of defending apartheid, genocide enabling and misinformation spreading, being the mouthpiece of the biden administration's violent anti-migrant policies that have doubled ICE detention population since entering office, to name a few of her positions.

And her long term "what has been" as California's attorney general includes arresting parents of chronically ill children for 'truancy violations' a policy which she was warned would disproportionately affect low-income people of color, laughed at the idea of decriminalizing recreational cannabis use, appealed a county decision that the death penalty was unconstitutional, fought to keep non-violent prisoners locked up so their labor could be exploited for wildfire fighting, and has a track record of denying appeals and new DNA tests on wrongful conviction cases.

Don't let the memes do what they did for Biden by removing Harris from the context of her record and all in which she lives and what came before her.

[sato-vendel]

Professor Vendel,

As someone who enjoys history but finds lists of rulers a bit... dull, to say the least, I am very interested to know who you think the most eccentric ruler of our beloved Selvarem was.

Sincerely, A Student

What a delightful question, thank you.

There have been many 'eccentric' rulers in Selvarem's history, so it's hard to pick just one. I'll speak about one that is particularly popular.

Queen Iodia Einar was quite the individual. I won't go into the politics that led to her coming to power in this post, but the basics of what happened are that she killed King Caisan in a duel for the throne (notably, her weapon of choice was a hatchet instead of a sword, and according to some sources she used her fists more than the hatchet), and then she proceeded to take his sword and duel his daughter, Princess Rasiel, who attempted to claim that she should still inherit the throne. There are some slight variations between what people claim happened to initiate this duel, but the most common account includes that when Princess Rasiel asked for a duel, Einar announced, "I eat pretty girls like you for breakfast, let's fucking do it." When she defeated the Princess, instead of killing or exiling her, the two got married.

Queen Iodia was very popular with the public, and often hosted open balls, where she would talk, drink, and dance with people from a wide range of backgrounds and social classes, and even immigrants- something that most middle and working class of Selvarem had mostly accepted by then, but nobility still tended to avoid.

She was known for her vulgar way of speaking, casual fashion, and her openness about her use of substances like alcohol and cannabis. Her relaxed attitude was abnormal for royals of the time, but it worked out well for her.

[abyssalpriest]

Usual "what others do isn't my business, my blogs are diaries and I'm allowed to have thoughts without telling others what to do" disclaimer

I'm getting so irritated for personal reasons (building storm, memories, personal disagreements with how this time and place in history treats gods, etc) with the lack of connection the average most connected people have to gods nowadays. I feel like at some point if you want to connect with, bond with, Lev and make him a part of your life you should at least once do trancework dances with him, or some other means of total body possession or an attempt at it and/or merging consciousness and eyes briefly

Hes such a hands on god and to an extent he will mirror you, less in terms of his nature being mirroring but more so because he will put in what you put in. If you give him distant love and distant channelling, treating him like the moon: something you know always has an effect on the waters of your life and something you revere but rarely see and keep in the distant sky... you'll get that. You'll get him directing you and stepping in like a stern and - examples don't matter honestly. Lev will pretty much always be cordial and roleplay the god you want in your life, but at the end of the day you'll always just be serving a distant purpose if you just set up an altar and keep him distant with distancing prayers

To actually bond with him... Things like drums and dancing, actually understanding That Which Makes The Waters Dance, actually understanding the Lord of Consciousness as ever-permeating... If you want to understand him you need to feel him, because he understands through feeling and being. Take a session of intense drumming and throwing yourself into a trance to actually understand the way he makes your body move, to feel the waters of your own body - blood, cerebrospinal fluid, semen, tears, saliva, whatever you have inside you - flow and move into place. Understand the mind of the Sky itself

Take something guided by him - theres so many reasons he's heavily associated with cannabis and alcohol - move yourself into his sphere, cross the boundaries between you. Throw yourself into the black of the sky and you'll find it's water.

There's so many things that forge actual bond with him. The Earth-Shaker doesn't move the Earth in Christian-esque rituals of praying to hollow temples and ringing gentle bells, he's the force that aligns your blood flow with beats in music, the beat itself, he's the drumming of hooves across the earth that tear into it and reorganise it, the wild horses that eat flesh alongside the wolves, the black dogs seeping through the veins in creation, the animal awareness peaking like bloodlust in the rutting deer... You absolutely can sit there meeting him in fancy robes in front of an altar where he commands you like a father or a god-husband but... again. i suggest anyone looking to actually work with him has at least one moment where the Sun itself burns a hole through your ignorance (ignorance is something we all have, we all wear) and shines its blinding light on your consciousness so that you have an atemporal space of connection to him from then on

[brightlotusmoon]

The most credible story traces 4/20 to Marin County, Calif. In 1971, five students at San Rafael High School would meet at 4:20 p.m. by the campus’ statue of chemist Louis Pasteur to partake. They chose that specific time because extracurricular activities had usually ended by then. This group — Steve Capper, Dave Reddix, Jeffrey Noel, Larry Schwartz, and Mark Gravich — became known as the “Waldos” because they met at a wall. They would say “420” to each other as code for marijuana.

As Reddix told TIME in 2017, “We got tired of the Friday-night football scene with all of the jocks. We were the guys sitting under the stands smoking a doobie, wondering what we were doing there.”

The shenanigans continued long after 4:20 p.m., too. The group challenged each other to find ever-more-interesting things to do under the influence, calling their adventures “safaris.”

Later, Reddix’s brother helped him get work with Grateful Dead bassist Phil Lesh as a roadie, so the band is said to have helped popularize the term “420.” On Dec. 28, 1990, a group of Deadheads in Oakland handed out flyers that invited people to smoke “420” on April 20 at 4:20 p.m. One ended up with Steve Bloom, a former reporter for High Times magazine, an authority on cannabis culture. The magazine printed the flyer in 1991 and continued to reference the number. Soon, it became known worldwide as code for marijuana. In 1998, the outlet acknowledged that the “Waldos” were the “inventors” of 420.

Bloom, now the publisher of Celebstoner.com, has credited the people who wrote the flyer for the date’s reputation as an annual gathering of pot smokers. “They wanted people all over the world to get together on one day each year and collectively smoke pot at the same time,” he wrote in 2015. “They birthed the idea of a stoner holiday, which April 20 has become.”

[study-with-aura]

Friday, February 9, 2024

I cannot wait until tonight when I see my friends again. Like I said before, we are terribly close. I think in a way, they are like sisters to me because we have been together since we were very young.

I will try to post over the weekend as I have typically done, but if I am too tired to and need another study break, I will post again on Monday. However, I think I will be good to go and not need one. Come to think of it, I do not have much supplemental study this weekend if any at all except language practice, piano, and reading.

Tasks Completed:

Geometry - Reviewed areas of sectors and segments + learned to find volumes of pyramids and cones + practice + honors work

Lit and Comp II - Unit 17 vocabulary test (100%) + read chapter 15 of Emma by Jane Austen + short story terms quiz (100%) + edited my short story

Spanish 2 - Listening practice + answered questions + reviewed vocabulary

Bible I - Read Joshua 1-2

World History - Completed Imperialism Analysis assignment + added to my timeline

Biology with Lab - Watched lecture video on community ecology + read about community ecology + read about the moose and wolf population + continued working on my endangered animal project (saola)

PE/Health I - Read a health article about the teen brain's vulnerability to the harms of cannabis

Foundations - Read more on persuasiveness + completed creativity exercise with drawing + gave my speech to dad (32/32)

Piano - Practiced for two hours in one hour split sessions

Khan Academy - Completed High School Biology Unit 9: Lesson 3 + completed High School Geometry Unit 9: Lesson 3 parts 1-3

CLEP - Watched Module 9.4-9.5 lecture videos

Duolingo - Completed at least one lesson each in Spanish, French, and Chinese

Reading - Read pages 99-139 of Warrior Girl Unearthed by Angeline Boulley

Chores - Dusted my bedroom, my bathroom, and the study + laundered my bedding

Activities of the Day:

Ballet

Pointe

Journal/Mindfulness

-

What I’m Grateful for Today:

I am grateful for my friends being able to come and stay overnight again tonight.

Quote of the Day:

The main thing to do is pay attention. Pay close attention to everything, notice what no one else notices. Then you’ll know what no one else knows, and that’s always useful.

-The City of Ember, Jeanne DuPrau

🎧Moderato in E-flat minor - Vasily Kalinnikov