#White pages iowa

[seancurry1]

Remember, Thou Art Barnacle

A serenity prayer for election day.

Originally posted on my website.

The Ann Selzer Iowa poll, regarded as the gold standard in all of political polling, shows Harris is up +3 in a state that Trump won by +8 in 2016 and by +9 in 2020. 

And you are a barnacle. 

The election better markets have Trump up by +19 (as of noon EST, 11/5/24), and bettors don’t care if people are ashamed to admit who they’re voting for—they’re in it for the money and only the money.

And you are a barnacle. 

Mainstream pollsters have admitted to weighting their polls heavily in favor of Trump, to ensure they don’t end up with egg on their face like they did in 2016 and 2020 again. International whales are taking out huge bets in favor of Trump, swinging the markets, and right wing think tanks are flooding the zone with bullshit polls to artificially inflate Trump’s odds in the aggregate. And even if the popular vote is overwhelmingly for Harris, Trump’s team is already laying the narrative groundwork to support a Stop the Steal campaign that, by the time you read this, will likely already have started. 

All of that is true. 

And you are still a barnacle. 

You are not piloting the ship. You are not the captain of the ship. You are not laying out the potential courses the ship could take, you are not deciding which course the ship will take, you are not scouting ahead. 

You aren’t even a paying, ticket-holding passenger on the ship. You are a barnacle on the hull, deep underwater, and unfortunately, there isn’t really anything you can individually do to affect where this ship goes. Sorry! 

This isn’t an invitation to check out, or become apathetic, or (heaven forbid) embrace doomerism. Quite the opposite: this is a reminder of who you actually are in this entire scenario, of the power you do not have, and of the power you definitely do. 

After the 2016 election, some small part of myself was convinced I could change the outcome if I just posted hard enough. If I fought enough of my friends on Facebook, texted angrily, and tweeted from enough protests and rallies, somehow Trump would no longer be President-elect. 

All it did was, literally, give me a rash. I got so angry for so long that my skin started to break out in hives. A doctor friend more-than-half seriously prescribed that I “get the fuck off Facebook” until my skin returned to normal. Trump was still President-elect, the next 8 years happened the way they did, and here we are today. 

You’re going to hear a lot today: polls are tightening! Votes still aren’t in from this critical precinct! If these trends hold, then we can expect to know something by such-and-such a time! The race is as tight as can be! White supremacists are threatening violence to avenge a dead squirrel! 

(The squirrel thing is 100% real, and my god, I really wish I was joking.) 

Remember, through all of it, that you are not the captain of the ship. You are a barnacle on its hull, and there is very little you can personally do to change it at this point. You’ve already done all you can do—or maybe you haven’t, but even then, you’ve already done all you’re going to do. 

And as you stress, and consider how inebriated you’re going to get, and decide on which web pages you’ll be refreshing every thirty seconds, and stress out some more, remember too that Donald Trump hasn’t ever won the popular vote in his entire miserable life. He only won the electoral college, a racist system explicitly designed to empower slaveholders in southern states, one time, and ever since then, he has lost every election he’s declared for. 

More people did vote for the woman candidate the last time one ran for President, and more people have voted for the candidate of color than their opponent every single time a person of color has run for President on a major party ticket. 

And women have already made up a larger share of early voting than men in this, the first general election post-Dobbs, than ever before in American history. (53% women to 44% men.) 

So as you stress and consider your inebriates and say to yourself, “How can it possibly be this close?!” for the umpteenth time today, remember too that Donald Trump is a fascistic, deeply unpopular person (let alone President) backed by an even more deeply weird party, and that almost the entirety of your experience of this election is being filtered through the lens of a national, for-profit media that doesn’t care who wins, so long as you keep watching. 

Remember, you are not the captain of the ship, you are not the helmsman, you are not the map-maker. 

You are a barnacle. 

Vote for Harris, vote Democrat in your local and state races, and trust your other barnacles.

If you like this, consider signing up for my newsletter to get more writing from me right in your inbox the second it posts: sean-curry.com/signup

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

MLK at 95.

January 15, 2024

ROBERT B. HUBBELL

Martin Luther King, Jr. was born 95 years ago on January 15, 1929. As a Baptist minister, he advocated non-violence while promoting civil rights. He spoke for the poor, the oppressed, and the disenfranchised. While he was imprisoned in a Birmingham jail for protesting segregation, he responded to eight white ministers who had criticized him for participating in protests that they described as “unwise and untimely.”

Dr. King’s famous reply to the white ministers explained why he traveled to Birmingham from Atlanta to protest:

I cannot sit idly by in Atlanta and not be concerned about what happens in Birmingham. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly. Never again can we afford to live with the narrow, provincial outside agitator" idea. Anyone who lives inside the United States can never be considered an outsider.

While Dr. King was keenly aware of the racism that served as the understructure of the Christian church in the old South, he would be shocked by the virulent, mean-spirited, anti-Christian message that animates many (not all) evangelical congregations in America today. They form the backbone of Donald Trump's support in Iowa and beyond. They have adopted Trump's message that treats the poor, oppressed, and disenfranchised as “outsiders” and “others” who do not belong in America.

Over the last several days, we have learned that members of the Texas National Guard physically blocked federal Border Patrol agents from responding to reports of immigrants in distress in the Rio Grande. The bodies of a mother and two children were later recovered from the river in the area where immigrants were reported to be in distress.

Texas, of course, denies that its cruel actions caused the drownings—a denial that should be viewed skeptically from a state whose governor—Greg Abbott—recently commented Texas troopers could not shoot immigrants crossing the border because the troopers would be charged with murder by the Biden administration. Texas governor criticized after comment about shooting migrants | The Texas Tribune.

Similar animus underlies the recent comments of Mississippi Governor Tate Reeves, who withdrew Mississippi from a federal program to provide food to school children during summer breaks. Governor Reeves said Mississippi withdrew from the program to fight “attempts to expand the welfare state.”

Blocking efforts to rescue a drowning mother and her children? Regretting the inability to shoot immigrants because it would be murder? Denying food to poor children out of spite? Who are these people? How do they look at themselves in the mirror?

Ninety-five years after Dr. King’s birth and fifty-five years after his death, it is difficult to believe that people who identify as upstanding members of the Christian church can support such actions.

Another section from Dr. King’s Letter from a Birmingham Jail is relevant to this moment in our nation’s history:

But the judgment of God is upon the church as never before. If the church of today does not recapture the sacrificial spirit of the early church, it will lose its authentic ring, forfeit the loyalty of millions, and be dismissed as an irrelevant social club with no meaning for the twentieth century. I meet young people every day whose disappointment with the church has risen to outright disgust.

Dr. King’s words were prophetic. See Pew Research (10/17/19) In U.S., Decline of Christianity Continues at Rapid Pace.

And, of course, as Dr. King recognized, “there are some notable exceptions” among church leaders who supported his work—just as there are exceptions today. Several readers have recommended Faithful America as an antidote to Christian nationalism. The organization’s helpful FAQ page explains why “Christian nationalism” is not Christian. See Resisting Christian Nationalism: FAQ + Resources | Faithful America.

On this day commemorating Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s birth, we can see how far we have come—and how much further we must go. He didn’t despair. Neither should we.

Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter

[politicalprof]

The polling conundrum

So we are there. Less than 36 hours until campaign ads (basically) end. We can make it!

For those who are poll-obsessed (Politcalprof is NOT), this is the time of tea leaves. Every detail, every hint, every turn is parsed and participled and probed beyond the tensile strength of titanium.

And yet no one really knows anything.

I want to suggest we are in of two basic situations, but we can't know which one until the event is over. (Paging Dr. Heisenberg!)

--1): Things are indeed as tight as they seem. The pollsters have figured out how to build representative pools in a time when no one answers their phones, and they've figured out to massage the data into a representative mix that accurately reflects who will vote on election day. Thus, their predictions are roughly accurate, and while there is always a margin of error, the election is a nail-biter that will come down to seven swing states and a couple of hundred thousand votes.

--2): There's an anomaly in this year's voting pool that the pollsters haven't caught. In other words, there's a surprise distribution of voters in 2024 that pollsters haven't accounted for in their predictions. So their models are wrong. This surprise distribution could, of course, be a mobilized right OR a mobilized left; there is no scientific reason to assume one "surprise" group is going to be mobilized while another isn't. In either case, the election is not actually that close, and one side or the other is heading for a decent-sized win.

If you're Elon Musk, you're convinced that the second path is true, and that the mobilized force is aggrieved white men and their allies who are going to go to the polls to "save" America. (Hence the heavy reliance on anti-immigrant and anti-trans messaging.) He certainly has been promoting this line heavily.

But I'd guess that IF there is a "secret" force out there whose voting percentage is higher than normal and whose force the pollsters' models haven't accounted for, it's women. Most of whom will have been mobilized by Dobbs and its aftermath.

Beyond the anecdotal, one piece of evidence suggests this may be the case: the Selzer poll from Iowa that has Kamala Harris leading in that state. Even if the poll is wrong, and Harris loses Iowa anyway, if the size of Harris' loss is unexpectedly small, that suggests that women have mobilized to a greater extent than pollsters have realized. It may also suggest that fewer men are voting Trump than predicted. In either case, it suggests the polls have been leaning Trump as an artifact of the pollsters' algorithms, not political reality.

Of course we won't know which, if either, of these situations is real until *after* the election. Perhaps not even by tomorrow. But if Iowa is close I'd expect the blue wall of Michigan, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin to hold, and several states like Arizona and Georgia to be in play. If Iowa reverts to type and the Selzer poll is just wrong, then Trump's chances are pretty good.

How's that for reading tea leaves?

[rdiowx]

DONNIE X MALE! GOTH STONER READER :p

warnings!: weed obviously, awkward donnie like usual, gay stuff, iowa boringness (real), mrs. Farmer mentions 😒, sticking to trad goth for the sake of not making this a million pages long.

—☆

First off before you start dating he’s very drawn to you, you’re probably one of the most unique people he’s laid eyes on considering where he lives

Awkward as fuck trying to talk to you, he thinks you’re the coolest person He’s ever seen

Stumbles over his words while you stare at him with your cool makeup and cool rings and cool clothes and when he finally gets the words out you have a smirk on your face and he swears he came in his pants

When youre actually in a relationship hes still awkward but like,,, boyfriend awkward yk?

Loves goth music, sisters of mercy, Lebanon Hanover, London after midnight, bauhaus, you name it he loves it

Loves getting high with you and listening to goth music too, such a nice experience.

Tries to make out with you during it and it ends up all sloppy and spit filled 😭

Accidentally tells his therapist about it 😒

Speaking of she knows all about you

Anyways

Lets you do his makeup like once but then doesnt let you do it again cause he hates the feeling of makeup on his face

Loves to watch you do yours though

You end up with your black lipstick smudged and donnie smiling with black lipstick all over his lips and face

He always laughs at the black and/or white face paint on the blunt when you pass it to him

Probably draws you all the time, you’re very interesting to draw.

Considering there isnt much to do in iowa you mainly go on walks or if you’re allowed to drive you drive to a place with a pretty view while playing goth music on your cassettes

Speaking of donnie probably made them for you, he remembers you talking about liking the songs so he put them on a cassette for you :3

You probably think frank looks sick as fuck (cuz he does obviously)

You both get high as shit and start talking about the meaning of life or some shit

Makes you drive him home from school most of the time

Passes you notes in class and has only gotten caught once (it was by mrs farmer and he had to read “do you want to come over and fuck after school” out loud in the most monotone voice in front of everyone while you tried your hardest not to laugh)

NSFW STUFF !!!:

First off, high sex all the time.

Super sloppy and kinda messy but you cant bring yourself to care cuz you both feel so good

He’s whiny and shit and i cannot imagine he wouldnt be.

Probably giggly too.

Made a cassette for whenever you do have high sex but you both forget to turn it on 80% of the time or you just cant be bothered to separate

Sometimes high sex just ends halfway through cuz you’re both too tired to move so you just cockwarm him or he cockwarms you and you fall asleep 😭

Sometimes you both skip mrs farmers class to go get high and fuck in the bathroom nobody uses.

You got caught by mrs farmer more than once and got suspended lol

Helps you fix your makeup after (gives you a handjob while you fix your makeup in the mirror you keep in your bag.)

By the time you get done its time for last period smh

All in all its a fun time

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1948 Mercury Templeton Saturn

"ONE OFF." The only one in THE WORLD! Built for Lloyd Templeton, The Templeton Saturn A.K.A. as The Bob Hope Special Roadster. Powered by a '48, 239.4 Cubic Inch Flathead V8 with two 2 barrel Stromberg 94 Carburetors, Speedway Heads, and a manual transmission. While in Hollywood, California to appear in a movie, it was driven regularly by Bob Hope, hence it's name. People didn't know what the vehicle was and referred to it simply as The Bob Hope Special Roadster. The body is a mixture of curves and flat surfaces for a very unique ride. It has a Chrysler hood lengthened, Mercury windshield, rear fenders were formed from '46 Chevy fenders, and the rear deck lid came from a Hudson hood. The grille is a cut down from a '48 Dodge and bumpers from a '46 Pontiac. The interior is styled after the cockpit of a plane with multiple gauges most being period Stewart Warner with white-on-black faces along with various knobs and switches. Why was it named the Templeton Saturn? Simply because it was named after Lloyd "Templeton", and Lloyd felt it would "run circles" around any cars of it's time, therefore the name "Saturn." The vehicle has received multiple awards and accolades from coast to coast, from the Pan Pacific Auditorium in California, to the 1952 Speedarama Show in Minneapolis and down to a Silver Spring Gardens event in Florida. The same year the Saturn was displayed for 10 days as the Car of Tomorrow in a tent across the street from the Iowa State Fairgrounds. It appeared on the fairway by invitation at the 2012 Pebble Beach Concours d' Elegance. It also received an extensive 12 page article in Motor Trend Classic Winter 2012 Edition along with appearing in Bill Jepsen's book Iowa Customs. A true Collectible and a piece of American Automobile History!

[ladydeath-vanserra]

New Blog Bio:

I do not tolerate pro-israel, zionist shit anywhere near me. I don't tolerate anti semitism anywhere near me. I will not tolerate anyone who is upholding or supporting the ethnic cleansing and genocide of the Palestinians. if you do, BLOCK ME

if ur gonna follow or interact with my blog pls realize I am very critical towards most acotar content, especially if it involves Rhysand. I am more-or-less a Rhys Anti until further notice and I am hard-core side eye towards Cassian until Rhysand is held accountable for being a shitty person for more than like *checks notes* two pages

I'm not a Tamlin Stan, nor do I particularly care for him, but I have been engaging in thoughtful criticisms of his actions often which involves character analysis so you v likely will see that pop up every now and then

likely you will find:

anti Rhysand

anti/critical IC

anti/critical/pro feyre

anti/critical Cassian posts, maybe MAYBE pro cassian

critical/pro Azriel- I'm pretty neutral towards him

anti/critical/pro elain content [often. w/o being tied to a ship]

pro Lucien

pro Nesta

pro Eris

most pro tog characters

anti/critical chaol (he just annoys me with his high horse)

Pro Ships:

Azriel/Eris/Nesta

Tamsand (lmao)

Feylin [book one]

Elucien

Nesta/Lucien [idk the ship name]

Feycien

Feyssian

Mesta

most tog ships

aelin/manon

malide

chaorian

Anti Ships:

Nessian

Feysand

Elriel

lysaedion

chaolena

My Specific ACoTaR Meta:

SJM + Eugenics + Ableism in her Writing

CoN + the Eternal Perpetuation of Abuse and Toxicity

SJM and the vilification of Ireland in acotar and tog

SJM could have had the HLs give their power to resurrect her wo Rhys forcing them if she played by Faerie Rules

Rhys physically assaulted Nesta

Class Warfare + Class Traitors in ACoTaR

Rhysand + Morally Grey Behavior

My Meta / Aus / etc Posts

tag -> #justice for poor cassian and poor archeron Sisters

tag -> #glasses!elain propaganda

tag -> #slavic archeron Sisters au

tag -> #fix cassians characterization challenge

tag -> #scottish!tamlin

tag -> #welsh!rhys

tag -> #disabled!Cassian

tag -> #my acotar world building

tag -> #appropriated faerie lore in acotar

tag -> #hybern Ireland

tag -> #white feminism in acotar

tag -> #eugenics in acotar

tag -> #eugenics in tog

tag -> #classism in acotar

Other Acotar Meta:

Mor SA'd Cassian

tag -> #acotar tiktok meta

tag -> #acotar meta

tag -> #racism in acotar

tag -> #Nesta is not an alcoholic send tweet

Other:

A Synopsis of The Ballad of Tam Lin

Other Fandoms:

TVDverse:

leave season 1 Caroline ALONE. she deserved better 🥺

Damon and Rose's Friendship that is ALL

"He's the 'good brother'. I'm the 'bad brother'" Salvatore Brothers meta

Esther is Mikaels victim too stop this irritating 'Esther is the real villain'

tag -> #can we stop the overt vilification of Esther Mikaelson and the UwUization of Mikael Mikaelson

tag -> #tvd tiktok edits

tag -> #Damon Salvatore

tag -> #Caroline Forbes

tag -> #Vincent Griffith

tag -> #Shelia Bennett

Bridgerton:

It's Loving how Nuanced Portia is Hours

tag -> #Portia Featherington

Shadow and Bone / Six of Crows:

The Darkling Meta

tag -> #David kostyk

Once Upon a Time

tag -> #cora mills

The Hunger Games / A Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes:

Coriolanus Snow Meta

tag -> #thg tiktok meta

tag -> #coriolanus snow

tag -> #reaper ash

tag -> #wovey

Percy Jackson

tag -> #nico di Angelo

completely irrelevant:

tag -> #rural iowa

more to be added!

[moregraceful]

oh also. q11 for the brandon crawford? (also this is a brilliantly creative ask meme. novel and exciting even!

if brandon crawford found my sexy mpreg imagines about him i would without exaggeration walk deep into the iowa corn ocean and you never find my body.

What would your favorite athlete/celebrity/creator/etc say about your WIP that indicated they had at least skimmed the Wikipedia page, if not read the first chapter, before they were asked to comment on it?

i don't like know what his deal is bc no man born in mountain view california has any business having five kids with the whitest names imaginable and raising them in arizona. i keep meaning to check if his wife is mormon i like do not get it...maybe they're just rich white americans. WHO KNOWS. if i am being generous and kind to myself and him, i think he would say something like: "it's an inventive play on retirement and reunification and an interesting exploration of what it means to de-gender pregnancy, but i'm not sure why i'm involved?" he read the first half of that in a new york review of books review, he doesn't know what the word reunification means or how it applies here.

[fic wip ask game panopticon version]

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Elizabeth Weiss

Published: Jan 20, 2024

Recently, the Navajo Nation has embarked on a mission to stop flights to the moon, especially those intending to deposit human cremated remains (commonly referred to as “cremains”). The Navajo Nation regards the moon as sacred, arguing that depositing cremains—or any objects, for that matter—constitutes an act of desecration. This controversy centers around the Peregrine Mission 1, a NASA-spon.sored expedition to the moon. Two private companies, Celestis and Elysium Space, plan to use this mission to transport the cremains of individuals who opted for a lunar resting place.

Upon receiving a letter from Buu Nygren, the Navajo Nation’s President, the White House convened a meeting to hear their objections to those flight plans. Although the White House correctly concluded that the government did not have the authority to stop the flight or hinder the private companies’ plans, one may wonder why these religious concerns of the Navajo Nation were ever seriously considered in the first place. Typically, the U.S. government refrains from interfering in scenarios where religious beliefs are at stake, as evidenced by the longstanding conflict between fundamentalist Christian creationists and the teaching of evolution in schools.

Yet, the case appears different when it involves Native American traditional religions—a loosely defined amalgamation of beliefs, often intertwined with Christian elements, and lacking formal sacred texts. In these instances, the US government has been bending the First Amendment of the Constitution so greatly that it is bound to snap.

The First Amendment of the US Constitution clearly states, “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion.” This means that the federal government should be neutral towards all religions, avoiding favoritism to any denomination. Although the U.S. Government generally avoids supporting or discriminating against specific religions, as demonstrated by the diverse holiday displays ranging from nativity scenes to the Satanic Temple altar in Iowa, traditional Native American religions have been the exception to this strict adherence to the First Amendment’s Establishment Clause.

This exception is evident in NASA’s collaboration with the Navajo. In NASA’s 108-page education guide, “Story of the Stars,” intended for “Classrooms and Community-Based Educational Events,” Navajo religious beliefs are treated as being of equal importance to NASA’s scientific research. On page 3, the guide contains a statement from the Navajo: “We are the Holy People of the Earth. We are created and placed between our Mother Earth and Father Sky.” Further evidence of religious support in this guide is a story stating, “After the creation of the Earth, sky, and the atmosphere, the Holy people realized the whole university was entirely dark.” It is interspersed with tales of sacred directions, seasons, beliefs, and rules of life. Notably, in the acknowledgements, Leland Anthony Jr. is listed as the project’s “spiritual advisor.”

Given this content on NASA’s website, it’s hardly surprising that the White House would hastily convene a meeting with the Navajo Nation to consider the validity of objections to moon flights. However, these considerations favor one religion and teach one religion, thereby violating the US Constitution.

Another example of the Federal government showing a denominational preference appears in the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA). Enacted in 1990, NAGPRA aids in the repatriation and reburial of human remains and artifacts deemed “sacred,” or as grave goods, or objects of cultural patrimony. A specific instance of this favoratism within NAGPRA is the requirement that at least 2 of the 7 individuals on the review committees “must be traditional Indian religious leaders.” Additionally, each NAGPRA meeting begins and ends with a “traditional Indian prayer.” For example, Armand Minthorn’s prayer at the January 5, 2023 meeting started with, “Today, as we come together, we thank our Creator for our life, our family, and our friends. And we ask our Creator today to give us strength and courage to go on and go forward.”

Perhaps most troubling is the acceptance of Native American religious creation myths as evidence for present day tribal affiliation to past populations. These tales have been leveraged to empty museums and universities of research collections–collections that might otherwise contribute to advancements in forensic identification techniques, aiding today’s Native American crime victims.

Final examples of the US government supporting Native American religions involve discriminatory practices based on sex. For instance, at the Smithsonian Arctic Studies Center, religious traditions led Inuit elders to forbid female archaeologists from handling certain artifacts. Similarly, when the California Department of Transportation archaeologists collaborated with the Kashaya Pomo tribe, the tribe’s religious protocols dictated that menstruating women be isolated, prohibited from conducting fieldwork, kept away from Native elders, and forbidden from talking about spiritual topics!

It is time for the US government to stop its unconstitutional denominational preference of Native American religions. Stopping these preferences would uphold the First Amendment’s Establishment Clause, protect scientific endeavors, and prevent discriminatory practices.

==

You shouldn't be any more comfortable with the Navajo making demands based on their religion than Xianity or Islam. Being loosely defined and vaguely "spiritual" doesn't change any of that.

Imagine an Orthodox Jew dictating "that menstruating women be isolated, prohibited from conducting fieldwork, kept away from Jewish elders, and forbidden from talking about spiritual topics" and being able to get traction and compliance from the government (and government institutions).

Your religion's rules apply to you, not me. If your religion forbids putting cremains on the moon, don't send any cremains to the moon. If your religion demands the moon be honored, go honor the moon. Over there.

[layce2015]

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Dead Man's Blood

Masterlist

"Well guys. Not a decent lead in all of Nebraska. What've you got?" Dean asked us after he folds up the newspaper while we sit at a diner. "Well, I've been scanning Wyoming, Colorado, South Dakota. Here. A woman in Iowa fell 10,000 feet from an airplane and survived." Sam said. "Sounds more like 'That's Incredible' than 'Twilight Zone'." I said. "Yeah." Sam said while Dean smirks.

"Hey you know we could just keep heading east. New York. Upstate. We could drop by and see Sarah again. Huh? Cool chick man, smokin'." Dean said then he whistles. "You two seemed pretty friendly. What do you say?" He asked. "Yeah, I dunno, maybe someday. But in the meantime we got a lot of work to do, Dean, and you know that." Sam said to him.  Yeah, all right. What else you got?" Dean asked.

"Ahh, man in Colorado, local man named Daniel Elkins, was found mauled in his home." Sam said and my head shot up as I look over at Sam. "Daniel Elkins is dead?!" I asked, shocked, and the boys look at me. "You know him?" Sam asked and I nodded. "Yeah, he is...or was...a hunter. He taught not only my dad but John as well." I said as I look down then back at Sam.

"W-What happened to him?" I asked and Sam looks back at his laptop. "Well...Sounds like the police don't know what to think. At first they said it was some sort of bear attack and now, they've found some signs of robbery." Sam replied and I start to get up. "Well, let's go then." I said and the boys follow me and we head to the Impala.

After driving through the snow-capped mountains, we come up to this cabin and run up to the door. Sam starts to lock pick the door and opens it while Dean and I hold up a flashlight. Inside, it looked like a fight broke out as things were thrown across the floor and things were knocked down as well.

"Looks like the maid didn't come today." Dean jokes as I look down at the door and see a familiar white substance. "Hey, there's salt over here. Right beside the door." I pointed out to them and Sam looks it over as well. "You mean protection against demon salt, or oops I spilled the popcorn salt?" Dean asked.

"Oh ha, ha." I said, sarcastically. "It's clearly a ring." Sam said as we go over to Dean and see him flipping through a journal. "That looks a hell of a lot like Dad's." Sam said. "Yep, except this dates back to the 60s." Dean said.

Seconds later, we move into the other room and shine our flashlights around the destruction, including up at the hole in the roof. 

"Whatever attacked him, it looks like there was more than one." Sam said. "Looks like he put up a hell of a fight too." I said, sadly, as I look around. "Yeah." Sam said as he gives me a worried look. I look at him and nodded at him as if to tell him that I'm okay and we continued to look around.

Dean crouches to get a closer look at the floor. "You got something?" I asked him. "I dunno. Some scratches on the floor." Dean said. "Death throes maybe?" Sam said, shrugging. "Yeah, maybe." Dean said as he grabs a page from a notebook, places it over the marks and rubs a pencil lead over it to get an outline. "Or maybe a message." He said.

Dean peels up the paper then he hands the paper to us. "Look familiar?" He asked us. "Three letters, six digits. The location and combination of a post office box. It's a mail drop." Sam said. "Just the way Dad does it." Dean said

After going to the post office and getting a letter, we sit in the Impala and look at the envelope. "J.W. You think? John Winchester?" Sam asked us. "I don't know. Should we open it?" Dean asked when there was a knock on his window

Dean gasps, rears back, and automatically raises his arm, fist clenched, while Sam and I jumped to look out the window. It was John Winchester. When John sees he had shocked us, he smiles. 

"Dad?" Dean asked as I scoot over to let John sit. "Dad, what are you doing here? Are you all right?" Sam asked once John gets inside. "Yeah, I'm ok. I read the news about Daniel, I got here as fast as I could. I saw you three at his place." John said to us.

"Why didn't you come in, John?" I asked him. "You know why. Because I had to make sure you weren't followed....by anyone or anything. Nice job of covering your tracks by the way." John said and Dean starts to look a bit proud of himself. "Yeah, well, we learned from the best." Dean said, proudly.

"(Y/n) told us that this Elkins guy taught you and her dad alot about hunting but you never mentioned him to us. Why is that?" Sam asked John. "We had a...we had kind of a falling out. I hadn't seen him in years." John replied then he gestures to the envelope.

"I should look at that." He said and Dean hands him the letter and he opens it. "If you're reading this, I'm already dead..." John reads then he looks through the letter before he lets out a sigh. "...that son of a bitch." He mutters.

"What is it?" Dean and I asked. "He had it the whole time." John mutters. "Dad, what?" Sam asked and John looks up at us. "When you searched the place, did you, did you see a gun? An antique, a Colt revolver, did you see it?" He asked us. "Ah, there was, there was an old case but it was empty." I said to him.

"They have it." John sighs. "You mean whatever killed Elkins?" Dean asked as John started to get out of the car. "We gotta pick up the trail." He said. "Wait. You want us to come with you?" Sam asked him. "If Elkins was telling the truth, we gotta find this gun." John said.

"The gun -- why?" I asked him. "Because it's important, that's why." John said, roughly. "Dad, we don't even know what these things are yet." Sam said, slightly annoyed. "They were what Daniel Elkins killed best: Vampires." John said and the boys and I look at him, confused.

"Vampires?" Dean said, confused. 

"But...dad told me they were extinct." I said to John. "I thought so too. But (father's name) and I were wrong. Most vampire lore is crap. A cross won't repel them, sunlight won't kill them, and neither will a stake to the heart. But the bloodlust, that part's true. They need fresh human blood to survive. They were once people, so you won't know it's a vampire until it's too late." John said and the boys and I share a look of worry.

"Sam, Dean, (y/n) let's go." John said to us, later that night as we were sleeping in a motel room. John slaps our feet to wake us up and we slowly sit up. "I picked up a police call." John said as he grabs his jacket.

"What happened?" Sam asked as he rubs his eyes. "A couple called 911, found a body in the street. Cops got there everyone was missing. It's the vampires." John said. "How do you know?" Sam asked. "Just follow me, ok?" John said as he leaves the room.

"Huh, vampires. Get's funnier every time I hear it." Dean mutters as he sits up and Sam gets up and grabs his jacket and I get up and get ready as well.

Later, John finishes talking to a cop on the scene and starts walking back to us as we waited by the Impala. "I don't see why we couldn't have gone over with him." Sam said to us, sulking. "Oh don't tell me it's already starting." Dean grumbles. "What's starting?" I asked just as John comes up to us.

"What have you got?" Dean asked John. "It was them, all right. Looks like they're heading west. We'll have to double back to get around that detour." John said.

"How can you be so sure?" Sam asked, suspiciously. "Sam..." Dean said, exasperated, and Sam turns, sharply, to Dean. "I just wanna know we're going in the right direction." He said. "We are." John said.

"How do you know?" Sam asked as he turns to him. "I found this." John said and he hands Dean something. Dean takes it and holds it up and I could see that it looked like a sharp tooth.

"It's a....a vampire fang." Dean said. "Not fangs, teeth. The second set decends when they attack." John said then he turns to Sam. "Any more questions?" He asked Sam, who looks away and stays silent. "All right, let's get out of here, we're losing daylight." John said and we start heading for our respective cars.

"Hey Dean why don't you touch up your car before you get rust? I wouldn't have given you the damn thing if I thought you were going to ruin it." John said as Dean looks down at his car. I frown towards him as Sam looks at Dean with a told you so look on his face. Dean grimaces and we get into the car.

"Vampires nest in groups of eight to ten. Smaller packs are sent to hunt for food. Victims are taken to the nest where the pack keeps them alive, bleeding them for days or weeks." I read as Sam drives the Impala, following John, and Dean sits in the passenger seat. "I wonder if that's what happened to that 911 couple." Dean said. "That's probably what Dad's thinking. Course it would be nice if he just told us what he thinks." Sam said, grumpily.

"So it is starting." Dean mutters, annoyed. "What?" Sam asked him, angrily. "Sam, we've been looking for Dad all year. Now we're not with him for more than a couple of hours and there's static already?" Dean yells. "Hmph. No. Look, I'm happy he's ok, all right? And I'm happy that we're all working together again." Sam said. "Well good." Dean said.

"It's just the way he treats us, like we're children. Even (y/n), who's not even his kid." Sam said. "Oh God." Dean growls. "He barks orders at us, Dean, he expects us to follow 'em without question. He keeps us on some crap need-to-know deal." Sam said. "He does what he does for a reason." Dean said.

"What reason?" I asked him. "Our job! There's no time to argue, there's no margin for error, all right? That's just the way the old man runs things." Dean yells. "Yeah well maybe that worked when we were kids but not anymore, all right. Not after everything we've been through, Dean. I mean, are you telling me you're cool with just falling into line, and letting him run the whole show?" Sam asked as he looks at Dean, challengingly.

Dean gives him a long look before he starts to say. "If that's what it takes." Sam shakes his head as he continues to drive.

"Yeah, Dad. All right, got it." Dean said into his phone, minutes later, then he hangs up. "Pull off at the next exit." Dean instructs Sam. "Why?" Sam asked, angrily. "Cause Dad thinks we've got the vampire's trail." Dean replied.

"How?" Sam asked, anger rising his voice. "I don't know; he didn't say." Dean said. Sam then guns the engine, while Dean and I look at him like he's crazy. Dean turns to look at John's truck as Sam overtakes it and passes it.

Once in front, Sam slams on the brakes, causing the Impala to swerve sideways in front of John's truck, making us stop. "Oh crap. Here we go." Dean mutter as Sam gets out of his car. "Sam!" Dean and I said as we follow out of the car.

"What the hell was that?" John asked Sam, angrily, as he walks out of the truck and walk towards Sam. "We need to talk." Sam said. "About what?" John asked as he and Sam get face to face. "About everything. Where we going, Dad? What's the big deal about this gun?" Sam asked just as Dean and I come up to Sam and we try to hold him back.

"Sammy, come on, we can Q and A after we kill all the vampires." Dean said. "Your brother's right, we don't have time for this." John said. "Last time we saw you, you said it was too dangerous for us to be together. Now out of the blue you need our help?" Sam said then he starts to yell at John. "Now obviously something big is going down, and we wanna know what!"

"Get back in the car." John orders.

"No." Sam said, firmly.

"I said get back in the damn car." John growls.

"Yeah. And I said no." Sam said to him.

"Ok, you made your point tough guy. Look we're all tired, we can talk about this later." I said to Sam as I hold his arm and try to pull him away from John, but he doesn't move. "Sammy, I mean it, come on." I said, calmly, as Dean grabs Sam's other arm and we pull him back toward the car.

Sam moves but he still stares at John then he turns around. "This is why I left in the first place." Sam mumbles. "What'd you say?" John asked and Sam turns back to him. "You heard me." Sam yelled. "Yeah. You left. Your brother and me, we needed you. You walked away, Sam." John shouts, angrily.

"Sam..." Dean and I said as John gets into Sam's face. "You walked away!!" He yells. "Stop it, both of you." Dean shouts. "You're the one who said don't come back, Dad, you closed that door not me. You were just pissed off that you couldn't control me anymore!" Sam screams and Dean and I get in between them, I push Sam back and Dean pushes John back.

"Listen, stop it, stop it. Stop it!!" Dean yells. "That's enough!!" I yelled at the two men as they continue to stare at each other over our heads. "That means you too." Dean said to John as Sam gets into the Impala and then John turns back to his car.

Dean and I stand in the middle, and we look from one to the other. "Terrific." Dean grumbles as I shake my head. "Maybe we should look into putting your dad and Sam into counseling." I said and Dean scoffs as we head back to the car. "You kidding? It would be a warzone in that room." Dean said and I nod. "Good point." I said and we get into the car and we head off.

[todaysdocument]

Letter from Lt. Henry O. Flipper to Representative John A. T. Hull Regarding a Bill Introduced to Congress to Reinstate Lt. Flipper into the Army and Restore His Rank

Record Group 233: Records of the U.S. House of Representatives Series: Committee Papers

Henry O. Flipper Member "Association of Civil Engineers of Arizona" Deputy U.S. Mineral Surveyor Consultations on Mexican Land and Mining Laws Notary Public Santa Fe, New Mexico, October 23, 1898. Hon. John A. T. Hull, Desmoines, Iowa. Dear Sir: I send you, in this mail and under separate cover, a printed copy of the Brief I have prepared in my case under Bill, H.R. 9849, which was so kindly introduced in the House for me by the Hon. Michael Griffin, at the last session of Congress. In May last I submitted to you and to the members of the Sub-Committee a type-written copy of a Brief I had hastily prepared in Washington. I have carefully rewritten and revised that Brief and now send you a copy for your perusal and consideration. In coming to Congress with my case, I do so because there is no individual or other tribunal to which I can go, no official or other official body with power to review the case and grant or refuse my petition. In coming to you, to the Committee and the Congress, I do not ask that aught be done for me from motives of mere sympathy and yet I cannot help feeling that all of us can and do sympathize with those who have been wronged. I am sure that, after reading my Brief through, you will understand and appreciate the struggle I made to rise above the station to which I was born, how I won my way through West Point and how I made as honorable a record in the Army as any officer in it, in spite of

J. A. T. H. -2- the isolation, lack of social association, ostracism and what not to which I was subjected by the great majority of my brother officers. You will recognize also the almost barbarous treatment to which I was subjected at the time I was accused and tried. It will not be possible, I apprehend, for you or any member of the Committee to wade through the 1000 or more pages of the record, nor is it necessary, but, if you should do so, you will readily be convinced that the rime of being a Negro was, in my case, far more heinous than deceiving the commanding officer. My utter helplessness and conviction then arose from that cause and without the generous assistance of yourself and the other gentlemen of the Committee, in Committee and on the floor of the House, I shall be equally helpless now. I believe my case is a strong one as well as a meritorious one and one that will commend itself to you for approval and will enlist your sympathy and support. I ask nothing because I am a Negro, yet that fact must press itself upon your consideration as a strong motive for the wrong done me as well as a powerful reason for righting that wrong. I ask only what Congress has seen fit to grant to others similarly situated. I ask only that justice which every American citizen has the right to ask and which Congress alone has the power to grant. In my Brief I offer for your consideration two cases,

one occurring before my trial and of which I should have had the benefit as a precedent, and the other occurring after my trial. They will show you how white officers of long years of experience and of high rank have been treated for the same offense as that for which I was tried and dismissed. I also present six precedents in which Congress has granted to dismissed offers precisely what I am asking. I do not believe Congress ever had before it a case as deserving of favorable action as my case, and for that reason I do not hesitate to appeal to you and to ask you to champion it for me and to see that both the Committee and the House take speedy and favorable action and pass the bill just as Mr. Griffin introduced it without amendment of any character. You will have my gratitude and that of my entire race, as well as the satisfaction of having righted a great wrong done to a member of a harmless but despised and friendless race. Relying upon you, as I do, I have the honor to be, Very truly yours, Henry O. Flipper [handwritten signature]

[fibula-rasa]

Would never describe myself as "a bright little patriot" but an all-black outfit with a grape-colored bag absolutely sounds like something I would wear

What are you wearing?

Transcription:

Photoplay, December 1941

Be a bright little patriot and take your color cue from your state flower for the gayest-hued season that's ever dazzled America

BY MARIAN H. QUINN

Alabama…goldenrod

A bright gold wool furless coat with a taupe belt

Arizona…saguaro cactus

Be as draught-resistant and as showy in the Lasso boots on page 60* — maybe a pair of red ones

Arkansas…apple blossom

The apple-blossom pink and blue wool striped collars and cuffs on your wool dress

California…golden poppy

The gold buttons you'll wear on anything; maybe they'll be massive carved ones for your suit

Colorado…columbine

A purple crepe lining for your black day suit

Connecticut…mountain laurel

The new plaid combination — purple with mountain-laurel pink, navy blue and white

Delaware…peach blossom

A wool dress the color of peach blossoms under your dark coat.

Florida…orange blossom

A needlepoint purse worked in orange-blossom pattern

Georgia…cherokee rose

A simple white crepe dinner skirt; a sweater of yellow pailettes

Idaho…syringa

White or cream rayon slipper satin waltz dress; wear a black snood and black gloves with it

Illinois…wood violet

Violet silk stockings (honest!) with your violet evening dress

Indiana…zinnia

Be as vivid in a bright orange or red hat worn with black

Iowa…wild rose

Sequins forming a pattern of roses all over your evening bag

Kansas…sunflower

Bright woolen jacket of orange; matching orange gloves

Kentucky…goldenrod

Circular yoke of gold crocheted yarn topping a black wool

Louisiana…magnolia

Magnolia-pink rose on the big pillow muff of black lace you'll carry with your chemise dress

Maine…pine cone

New combination of pine-cone brown with baroque pink

Maryland…black-eyed susan

Smart suit: A black jacket with a yellow skirt

Massachusetts…mayflower

Interpret it broadly; be shipshape in a wine middy-top dress

Michigan…apple blossom

Pale pink crepe blouse; deeper pink jacket; black skirt

Minnesota…moccasin flower

Soft-soled moccasins of gold-trimmed white kid for dancing

Mississippi…magnolia

Pink velvet piping on your black dress

Missouri…hawthorn

A waist-length red velvet cape trimmed with jet for evening

Montana…bitterroot

A whole suit of peachy pink for the tea-dancing hour

Nebraska…goldenrod

The gold service insignia of your beau on the left-hand (nearest the heart) glove

Nevada…sagebrush

Sage-green shoes to go with a sage-green monotone costume

New Hampshire…purple lilac

Clogs of purple satin for your purple dance dress

New Jersey…violet

A purple felt hat with your dark blue wool suit

New Mexico…yucca

A creamy white dog collar of pearls to make you as imposing

New York…rose

Red-as-the-rose red with black; perhaps knitted red gloves

North Carolina…oxeye daisy

A snow-white angora felt cloche with a yellow grosgrain band

North Dakota…wild prairie rose

Belt with a buckle that's made of a cowhide prairie-wagon wheel

Ohio…scarlet carnation

Carnation-red wool jacket piped in black to wear with a black skirt

Oklahoma…mistletoe

The dress on page 63**; wear it and see what happens

Oregon…Oregon grape

A grape-colored suede bag, only contrast to an all-black outfit

Pennsylvania…mountain laurel

Pink brushed-wool hat for your dark suit

Rhode Island…violet

A violet plaid tweed coat

South Carolina…jessamine

Over your black dress wear a tight-waisted tunic of yellow wool

South Dakota…pasqueflower

A purple wool suit and its surefire accessory—a yellow sweater or blouse

Tennessee…iris

The lining of the black peplum on your black wool, a blue as deep as the iris

Texas…bluebonnet

Blue suede gloves, blue velvet bag as an accessory team

Utah…sego lily

The white and orange cockade of finely pleated ribbon on your red velour hat

Vermont…red clover

A clover-red corduroy dress

Virginia…dogwood

A creamy satin waistcoat to wear over a black-velvet skirt

Washington…rhododendron

Deep pink snakeskin gloves to match the belt on a black dress

W. Virginia…great rhododendron

Combine a pale pink with Dublin green in a jacket; wear it over a nut-brown dress

Wisconsin…violet

Dog collar of purple velvet on your beige dress

Wyoming…Indian paintbrush

A harlequin necklace; one side orange-red, one side green

*aforementioned boots for Arizona:

**aforementioned dress for Oklahoma:

[power-chords]

Gray suit, white shirt, Mr. Anonymous, moving with precision as he browses the engineering section and selects the book Hanna now holds in his hand. Self-contained, focused, alert. Neil flips pages back and forth. The camera angle shows electronic microphotography of various kinds of steel.

Michael Mann & Meg Gardiner, Heat 2, 2022

And how curious, what a distance he sought to travel from the grating sound of that c-h with its breadth of reference, its guttural history and culture, those heavy hallway smells and accents—from this to the unknown x, mark of mister anonymous.

Don DeLillo, Underworld: A Novel, 1997

Hanna was haunted by dreams, dead bodies at a long table looking at him. They didn’t say anything. Their look imposed obligations. (Mann & Gardiner)

Ever in search of the father who disappeared, Delmore bade everyone call him by his first name. His name was the first contradiction to engage his poetic sensibility; it was not the name of a "nice Jewish boy." [...] Lou Reed, his former student, may know the truth: the writer who wrote a timeless story framed as a movie was named after Frank Delmore, a dancer in silent films. Perfect, for Schwartz's consciousness danced through towering, flickering images. His name was emblematic of concerns he explored in his work: generational divides between immigrants and their American-born children, tensions between old-world values and American social aspirations, the old manners and a brash new culture that celebrated the breakdown of class divides and made a liberating religion of artistic endeavor. [...]

Words read for decades or centuries are never erased. Schwartz once said that his subject was "the wound of consciousness." He was a dazzling writer whose work captures the quicksilver mercury of time, the enormous weight of anguish, and the exaltation of finding meaning in what might have been lost sadness and desperate waste. Irving Howe said that Schwartz "found a language for his parents' grief," but the story transforms history, place, and character into primal truth.

Jayne Anne Phillips, "The Wound of Consciousness: An Introduction to 'In Dreams Begin Responsibilities,'" The Iowa Review, 2014

[uispeccoll]

Anything but Silent: Lobby Card for Swing

Last year, Special Collections and Archives at the University of Iowa Libraries acquired items to form a new collection: the Black Film and Television Collection. In honor of Black History Month, we’re shining a spotlight on a different item from this collection.

In last week’s installment, we took a closer look at the poster for 1919’s The Green-Eyed Monster. Now we’re picking up 20 years later, with the spotlight on a lobby card from Oscar Micheaux’s 1938 film Swing, part of the Black Film and Television Collection. Starring Cora Green, Swing is notable as an example of two overlapping genres: race film and musical film.

Like many of Micheaux’s films, Swing it is also a tale centered around Black characters with grand aspirations. And like Micheaux himself, these women are pioneers, willing to make a path through the unknown.

Swing is a story born of the Harlem Renaissance, which by 1938 was declining in the wake of the Great Depression. The movie follows Eloise Jackson (Hazel Diaz) and Mandy Jenkins (Cora Green), two young women from Birmingham, Alabama. Mandy catches her husband (Larry Seymour) having an affair with Eloise, and Eloise flees to start over as a singer in Harlem. Her past catches up with her, however, and through a series of mishaps, it ends up being Mandy who succeeds as a performer on Broadway.

Who was Oscar Micheaux?

Last week’s blog touched on the work of Micheaux, but it’s worth digging deeper into the life of this singular talent.

Micheaux was born in 1884 and grew up with his 12 siblings on a farm in a small town in Illinois. His parents had been born into slavery in Kentucky, but neither emancipation nor a move north could create distance from the realities of structural racism.

The debts Micheaux’s parents had undertaken to keep the farm afloat became more burdensome over time and had educational repercussions for their fifth-eldest child. For a while, they were able to send Oscar to a school in a neighboring town, but financial difficulties eventually forced them to bring him back to work on the farm. This adjustment was difficult for an intelligent, ambitious teen to process, and Micheaux rebelled. Frustrated, Oscar’s father sent him to his older brother in Chicago, where he took work as a porter.

During this stint in the city, Micheaux set his hopes on homesteading to the west. He saved the earnings from his job until he could buy farmland in South Dakota and worked this land for years, a Black man surrounded by a community of white homesteaders. His experience in South Dakota came to an end when a drought withered his crops and his first marriage began to deteriorate. Micheaux committed these experiences to the page, emerging in 1913 with an anonymous, self-published book titled The Conquest, and a new ambition: to make his living as a storyteller.

In 1918, Micheaux would turn much of the material from The Conquest into a new, more fictionalized project, a novel he would call The Homesteader (both books can be found in the UI Libraries Special Collections & Archives). It was this work that caught the eye of the Lincoln Film Company’s George Johnson, who contacted Micheaux and offered to adapt the novel. However, the two couldn’t agree on a direction for the project, and the deal was scrapped. It became clear to Micheaux that if he wanted narrative control over a film based on his story, he’d have to make it himself. And in 1919, the new, Sioux City-based Micheaux Book & Film Company released the silent film The Homesteader.

Swing came almost 20 years after The Homesteader. By the time it was released, Micheaux had made nearly forty movies, both silent films and “talkies.” His contributions had defined the art of the race film and brought the experiences of Black Americans to the screen. As one might expect given the climate of his day, Micheaux was no stranger to controversy and censorship; his stories confronted racism directly, in ways the white establishment found “political” and therefore threatening. As an independent filmmaker in a burgeoning studio system, Micheaux’s budget was often tightly constrained. In 1928, he had to declare bankruptcy, but he continued filmmaking afterward with the same tenacity that had led him to that parcel of land in South Dakota.

Micheaux only made four more films after this one, and by his death in 1951 he had declared bankruptcy again. But in recent years, his contributions to film history have received more attention. The Academy Museum of Motion Pictures features an exhibit on Micheaux’s work, and in 2010 the U.S. Postal Service released a stamp in his honor.

Swing and Cora Green

Since Swing was a musical film, it also gave Cora Green a new opportunity to showcase the singing voice that had already made her a star. Green performs two of Swing’s four musical numbers, “Bei Mir Bist di Schön” and “Heaven Help This Heart of Mine.”

Though she was only in two feature films (Swing in 1938 and Moon Over Harlem in 1939), her decades as a vaudeville performer had earned her the distinction of “the highest-paid colored woman in vaudeville,” according to one contemporary newspaper. She was popular enough that during World War II, she toured with the United Service Organizations (USO) to the Persian Gulf, performing for Black troops. Unfortunately, we don’t know what direction Green’s life took after the war, since she vanishes from the record in 1949.

What Green left behind was a limited but unique body of work, and this lobby card is a small piece of her story. In Swing, her voice carries to us through the years, the sound of a new art form just hitting its stride.

Next week, we’ll explore another distinct genre of Black filmmaking: the Blaxploitation film

---Natalee Dawson, Communication Coordinator at UIowa Libraries, with assistance from Liz Riordan, Anne Bassett, and Jerome Kirby

[gefdreamsofthesea]

I follow this Facebook page called White People Making White People Food and there have been a lot of submissions from Iowa lately and I am very concerned because a lot of the food looks like it might be cursed. You doing okay down there?

[reputationsaviors-blog]

#Online #Reputation Management# #Crisis Remove Complaints# Consultants# Services# Local# #Search #Engine Optimization# SEO# GMB# Tools# Software# Online# Companies# Reviews# Tips# Social Media Management# Remove Complaints# BBB# RipOffReport.com# Complaints.com# ComplaintsBoard.com# Blogs # Reviews# Webites# Online# Advertising# Marketing# Ads# Computer# Web Site Development# Hosting# TV# Television# Commercials# Internet# PR# Public Relations# Legal# Lawyer# Law# Attorney# Attorneys# Finance# Loan# Classifieds# Directories# Local Search# Business Leads# Sales Leads# Personal Data Removals# Internet Legal# Training Seminars

[daziechane]

When I moved to Kansas I was struck by how far from everything I was, and it took a while for the vague unease of "it's all going to collapse onto me and crush me" to dissipate. Never felt that with the mountains.

And to celebrate- here's a poem from Kansas

FUCK YOU, I’M FROM KANSAS

“There just isn’t enough grit!”

Fuck You, I’m from Kansas

Where grit comes from the inside

Where blizzards bury children in as little as eight minutes

And you just deal with it.

Socialized health care?

Fuck You, I’m from Kansas

If you get cut, you die.  Simple as that.

Sure, we’ll pray for ya’ll, but that’s about it.

We buried pa in a field by the Kaw River after the rustlers came,

And ma died while trying to birth that calf, kicked in the head to death,

Little sister was bitten fifty-two times by a rattlesnake before she managed to bite off it’s head, and we couldn’t afford the antidote cause the cattle died of blight.

The poison still courses through her veins today.  Makes her mean.

And when the well ran dry, fifteen kids tripped and fell into it

Cute little blonde-haired blue-eyed kids,

Like the kind you save in movies

Movies that are never set in Kansas

And as they fell to their tiny deaths

We just watched.

Health and Safety?

Fuck You, I’m from Kansas

I went to school in a class of four hundred

Only eight of us are still alive

We couldn’t find Billy Ray after that twister got him.

He’s probably somewhere in Missouri

Or Ohio

Or maybe Iowa.

Or maybe bits of him in all three.

Did we miss him, yup,

But Fuck You, I’m from Kansas

It’s just part of God’s plan

We just got color in ’94, before that, everything was black and white

Except the people, they were just white.

I’m not racist, Fuck You, I’m from Kansas.

When the Indians come

You’ve got to circle the wagons to survive

I learned to dodge arrows from an early age

In the grim light of the campfire and smoke signals.

The smoke signals crying out “Get the fuck outta Kansas.”

Because Kansas was named after the Kansa Indians.

Before we shot them.

Fuck you, Indians, this is our Kansas.

Nineteen of my friends died of dysentery,

Cholera got the other six

My Facebook page reads like the book of the dead

The dead of Kansas.

I cried once, when I was two, and pa punched me in the face

Fuck you, son.  We don’t cry.  Not in Kansas.

Nothing tastes better in Kansas than pain.

We like our women to have teeth

But it doesn’t always work out that way

You don’t always get what you want in Kansas.

In the Kansas winter people freeze to death, and in the summer they die of heat stroke

The spring brings tornadoes which kill thousands and destroy our livelihood and our precious trailer homes.

Fall’s cool, though, in Kansas, fall’s cool.

If you don’t drink a case and a half of Pabst Blue Ribbon a day

Fuck you, get out of Kansas.

If you don’t stop at the titty bar along the highway

Fuck you, get out of Kansas.

You can’t be queer in Kansas, or that’s a shootin’.

Our capital, Topeka, is built of sticks and mud.

We added a brick once, and the whole thing fell over.

Forty thousand people died.

So we just started again.

Fuck you, I’m from Kansas.

I graduated at the top of my class in Kansas because I went to the library and read the book.

Now I’m governor.  Governor of fucking Kansas.

So when the snow comes next, and ya’ll English are trying to push your faggoty French cars out your ever-so-slightly frosted over roads, don’t come whining to me.

I’ve seen it all.  On the cold, cold prairie.

Fuck you, I’m from Kansas.