#also the racism comment is a low fucking blow

[junkartie]

My mom on her way to lecture me about being racist AND ageist because i dont want my sister talking and flirting with a 26 year old (shes 15)

[yoongisleftshoulder]

BTS Reacts: Biracial S/O Experiences Racism

A/N: Of course, something like this can be a touchy subject and I will take full responsibility if I write anything offensive or incorrectly. As I've said in previous pieces like this, you are welcome to call me out on any mistakes so I can learn and do better. I personally am not biracial nor have I experienced racism of the sort but my inbox is always open if you need support or someone to stand with you. Also, I apologize but I couldn't find credits for some of the gifs used. I take no credit for the making of them.

TW: General racism, bullying

JIN:

Jin couldn't believe it when you pulled up an antis hate themed blog focused around you. He knew there would be some heat once your relationship was revealed to the public but he never thought people would be low enough to create an entire blog to bully you and insult you just based off of your skin color. It almost blew his mind that someone would take the time to put you down so badly. Jin would gently take your phone out of your hand and close the page, setting the phone down and out of view.

"Don't pay attention to a word they're saying. They're not worth your time, you're perfect the way you are."

Jin made sure the blog and nasty racist comments thrown at you were forgotten quickly, reassuring you that they were meaningless and simply not true.

YOONGI:

Yoongi had been out with Jin picking up food for the two of you when you decided to watch a few video compilations on YouTube that some fans had created for your relationship with him. Most of them were cute and wholesome videos with nothing but positivity in the comment section and you found yourself smiling widely throughout your time reading them. However, on the last video you had chosen, the comments made your heart sink. You weren't sure why they were there all of the sudden but many users had written harsh racist insults towards you, some even going as far as writing out threats. You knew it was stupid and the words were empty and didn't really mean anything but you couldn't control the tears that were forming in your eyes, eventually beginning to spill down your cheeks. Just as you were at peak sobbing and second guessing yourself, wondering if Yoongi really loved you as much as he said, he walked in the door, food bags in hand. Immediately, when he saw you curled up on the couch crying, he dropped the bags and sat on the cushion adjacent to you. He started rubbing your arm, unsure whether or not doing anything further was going to upset you.

"Woah, what's wrong sweetheart?" Your boyfriend asked, his voice soft.

Between sniffles, you did your best to explain how so-called 'fans' were being incredibly racist towards you and saying Yoongi deserved someone of his own race.

Yoongi couldn't believe what he was hearing and was only able to muster out a quiet "What the fuck?" He was pissed to know you were upset and pissed that anyone could say such things to you.

"Don't listen to those assholes, they don't know you and they will NEVER know me. I love you, you're perfect the way you are. They're probably just jealous that there's nothing even mildly interesting about them. They mean nothing."

HOSEOK:

*Ping*

*Ping*

*Ping*

Your phone had been blowing up more than usual. Your boyfriend, Hoseok, was sitting next to you so you opted to check it, wondering who else would be sending you so many texts. Lit up on your screen were texts from your best friend, telling you not to listen to what people are saying on Twitter and that all of those people were wrong about you. Confusion washed over you as you opened the Twitter app to see what was going on. The first thing you saw was your relationship with Hobi on the trending list. Your heartbeat sped up as you tapped on the link to checkout the corresponding posts. As soon as it opened, you were met with post after post about the live you did with him yesterday, where you had revealed your face for the first time. There were comments saying how pretty you were and how sweet you seemed, of course, but among these comments were floods of hate speech. Every single negative comment had to do with the fact that you were biracial. You suddenly closed the app, tossing your phone to the side, startling Hoseok. He closed the book he had been reading in the chair across from you and asked you what was wrong, moving to sit aside you when he noticed tears pooling in the corner of your eyes. All you told him was to check Twitter. Taking out his own phone, he clicked on the trending HoseokxYN link and skimmed through the posts and comments. He very quickly put his phone back into his pocket, unable to read anymore racist words against you. Pulling you into a tight hug, he reassured you that he felt sorry for those people, telling you that they must feel so badly about themselves and have such low quality lives that they had to spew meaningless hate towards you. If anything, they were lower than you and were only doing it to feel better about themselves. Even though the remarks were towards you, it felt painful to read such things and he was overwhelmed by disappointment.

NAMJOON:

As you and Namjoon made your way through the intensely growing crowd inside of the airport, fans yelled and screamed various words of encouragement towards Namjoon. You loved to hear other people showering him with love and positivity, despite the craziness of the crowd itself. You were smiling widely while walking hand in hand with your boyfriend, listening to the fans, until you suddenly heard someone take a jab at the color of your skin. Namjoon heard the person too, stopping for a brief second to turn and glare at them. He shook his head as he turned back around, gripping your hand tighter, pulling it up to his face to lightly kiss your knuckles. Like a chain reaction, that one person being brave enough to say such things to you in front of him set off a wave of more racism. Namjoon began walking even faster, guiding you the whole way, wanting desperately to get you out of there.

"Those aren't my fans. If they were, they would never say such bullshit things to you."

JIMIN:

Jimin witnessing you beginning to cry after seeing racist comments saying you weren't worthy of being with him because you weren't Korean hurt his heart. Your laughter was his favorite sound in the world and he lived to see you smile. Seeing you so upset was painful and made tears prick his own eyes. You were so important to him and yet strangers were bringing you down with nonsense hate. Jimin made sure to pound it into your head that he wanted you and only you; if he wanted someone who was 100% Korean, that's who he would have chosen.

TAEHYUNG:

After a long chat, you and Taehyung decided to reveal your secret relationship to the public after having been together for over a year. Taehyung took the bold leap by posting a couple of cute, romantic photos from Valentine's day on his Instagram. Knowing that it would warrant a little bit of craziness, he did it late at night before the two of you went to bed, planning on checking on it in the morning.

That next morning, Taehyung had woken up before you. Rather than waking you up, he went into the kitchen, fixed himself up some breakfast, and got comfy on the couch with his phone, ready to checkout the reveal reactions. He found himself giggling at some of the comments, even feeling happy over some of the supportive ones he read. Not long after reading, though, he stumbled upon comments he wished he hadn't seen. Many racist insults and death threats filled the comment thread. They were targeting you because you were biracial, spewing hate and saying he deserved better than you, someone who was fully his own race. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"How could these people say things like this?" Taehyung whispered to himself, still trying to be careful about waking you up.

The thought of you waking up excited to read the reactions of army only to see your race being the main focus of the thread made him very upset. He pondered whether he should delete the photo or not, wanting to shield you from everything. After a while of thinking, he simply turned off the comments to the post.

When you finally awoke, the first thing you did was ask him about the public's reaction. He produced a white lie and said the staff recommended that he turn the comments off but allowed him to keep the photo up. Although you were disappointed, he would much rather have you thinking that's what happened, instead of being aware of the nasty racist comments that flooded the post.

JUNGKOOK:

The last thing Jungkook expected when you tagged along on a flight and exited the airport with him, navigating through the crowds of screaming fans, was to hear several death threats and racist remarks thrown around towards you. He gripped your hand tighter and tighter with each disgusting comment he heard, knowing he couldn't do anything in that very moment. He glanced at your face multiple times, checking if you were still mentally there, only to see that you had begun crying quite hard. Instantly, Jungkook removed his jacket and held it over you to cover your face as various people with their phones and cameras hounded you. When you were both sat safely inside of the car waiting for you guys, Jungkook pulled you in close, kissing the top of your head while you buried it into his chest.

"You know I don't think of those things, right? I don't care about your race, I love you for you. Don't listen to those people, they aren't real army."

[galactic-empress]

I was not going to say anything on this (Not Tibetan or Buddhist, my only credential is loving Tibet), but let me level with all the Dalai Lama accusers for a second. Cultural greeting or not, inexcusable and gross or not, all religious leaders are suspicious or not. To me what really is gross is the raging defamation of Tibet and assumption that China does not do the same shit or worse.

Underneath all this is just fueling hate for Tibetans and Tibet's freedom. All with the intent of erasing Tibetan identity. Interest and care for Tibet is high, it used to be trendy and hot, and it is coming back again, so paid media trolls are itching to demonise. Propaganda praising Chinese liberation is freaking everywhere right now. The leader of Buddhism acting up should not imply that the invasion and genocide of Tibet is acceptable.

If they are going to weaponize child ab*se, talk about how the Chinese government kidnapped and imprisoned the real Panchen Lama and installed their own, and will totally do the same tampering with the Dalai Lama's succession. Talk about all the children getting separated from their families, their traditions, and forced into boarding schools.

Someone seriously commented, "If this is their culture then I support the CCP," Yeah it was bait. But whatever. With that logic, we do not deserve a country or culture just because *insert whatever US stereotype*, Alabama is inbred, or the US has a history of cults that marry young girls, or that our leadership is shit, and our foreign policy is shit, and our history of slavery, racism, and Native genocide? My loyalty to this country is near nonexistent and still don't think that is a fair mindset. That we need to be saved and altered by another. "Red Army occupy Tibet in valiant effort to save boys from pederasty of Tibetan clergy," sounds a fuckton similar to the bullshit Russian excuse for war with Ukraine. If you won't believe the harm done to Tibet for 70 yrs, fine, but what is happening today to Uighurs is messed up. Plenty of child ab*se there. And to the claims that the monk clergy was a feudal corrupt system, and not following true Buddhism, please for the love of all that exists, point to me, one state, ideology or religion ever that has cut this out.

Let me get this straight. Elderly make poor choices. Personally I do not get along with most of my grandparents because they became insufferably stubborn and mentally unwell as they aged, and they've said creepy things about finding young wives too. I am solely talking about those who are taking the time to blow this out of proportion, implying Tibet does not deserve freedom because of a questionable religious leader. Religious leaders do fucked up shit, and I am an atheist, but guys, not everything is evil. Tibetan Buddhists do not deserve slander and hate for following him. And to discredit seven decades of importance? Someone who represents so much to the Tibetan diaspora and freedom here, and in the hereafter? Over one mistake? Seems really low. "What if he was always like this, how long has he gotten away with this", I don't pay attention to cancel culture but holy shit. Why don't you try staying alive for that long. Report back. I bet you'll be doing or saying or thinking some unnormal stuff as well.

I'm also quite certain the ones running these accounts, dredging up every dark aspect of Tibetan history, true or not, praising the occupation and vilifying a symbol of Tibetan freedom, and the politicians themselves, are not all saints either, and am willing to bet most do not care one second about ending child ab*se.

tldr; However you feel this need not involve bashing and spreading misinformation of Tibetan society.

[douxreviews]

The Handmaid's Tale - ‘Unfit’ Review

"I've never seen anyone so devoted."

Like the Canadian story line, the flashbacks in this show are often a welcome relief from the horrors of present day Gilead. This time, not so much.

Let me start by saying that Ann Dowd is absolutely awesome as the fearsome Aunt Lydia, and a flashback to her past should have done more to explain her character. Instead, even in her past, Lydia was taking children from their mothers while pontificating about her good intentions. She is just as conflicted and confusing as she always was. Maybe there's just no explaining people like Lydia. Or anyone who fits in Gilead.

Lydia Clements was a fourth grade teacher who used to work in family law. She went from judging Noelle, a poor young mother with a bad job, to helping her financially and giving her emotional support (which was lovely), to initiating legal proceedings that successfully took Noelle's son Ryan away from her. A remarkably bad thing that followed a remarkably good thing, and note how Lydia's clothing and hair style changed from loose, comfortable and attractive to a Gilead-like shapeless outfit and restrained bun.

This was tied in to Lydia's possible new boyfriend, Principal Jim. Lydia and Jim seemed so well matched: both were single again with careers in education, and clearly religious since they both quoted the Bible in casual conversation. Jim even said grace in the karaoke bar before they ate. (Karaoke "Islands in the Stream." Too cute, and adorably out of character for Lydia.)

Why would their aborted lovemaking on the couch push Lydia over the edge into such overwhelming shame, into violently destroying her own image in a mirror? Was it because she finally allowed herself to acknowledge her own sexual needs, and being rejected was too heavy a blow? For that matter, why did Jim stop? His wife died three years ago. Was it really too soon for him, or did her aggressive move on the couch turn him off? And why did this incident make Lydia turn on Noelle? Because Noelle had encouraged her to date again, had given her makeup?

Tying this into our lead character, we've all been wondering how June is still alive considering how badly she's been acting. I think June is too angry right now to be frightened of what could happen to her. Maybe Aunt Lydia sees June the way she saw Noelle, as someone she would try over and over again to push in the right direction – until she didn't. This doesn't bode well for June.

I enjoyed the three gossipy aunts around a table matching Handmaids to Commanders more than the flashbacks. This was background that we needed. Aunt Lydia complained about June's misbehavior, but then she talked about June being misled. "We never had issues with Ofjoseph before the Waterfords. A problem household, to say the least. And she was there for all that business with Emily." Aunt Elizabeth added, "And Lillie." It's an explanation for why June is still alive and undamaged. Not a great one, but an explanation.

During the almost comical testifying scene in the gym, June did acknowledge that Frances' death was June's fault, and that Hannah would suffer for what June did. And then June took that opportunity to turn on Ofmatthew, saying truthfully that Ofmatthew didn't want her baby. We learned that Ofmatthew thought her baby was going to be a girl this time, and she didn't want to bring a daughter into Gilead. I so can't blame her.

During their shopping trip to Loaves and Fishes, June smiled as Ofmatthew snatched the guardian's gun and went on her desperation spree, and then she nodded when Ofmatthew was aiming the gun at her. I think June was ready to die. When Ofmatthew changed her target to Aunt Lydia, I was yelling, "Kill her!" Sadly, no. The death of Ofmatthew and her possibly female fetus, along with the death of Ofandy's baby girl, felt like a metaphor for the murderous sickness of Gilead's culture.

Racism in Gilead

This is the second episode in a row that featured the horrible death of a black woman. It's also the first time race was so much as mentioned. During that fascinating scene with the Aunts and the sherry and the files on the lazy susan, Aunt Lydia said that one of the Commanders didn't want a Handmaid of color. Racial prejudice exists in Gilead, but it is kept on the down low. Under the table, pun intended.

Critics of this show talk a lot about intersectionality, how jarring it is that Gilead is all about the misogyny while racial issues don't seem to exist, and really, I totally get that. It's a major change from Atwood's book. In reality, a fascist, misogynistic society like Gilead would almost certainly be deeply racist as well. I initially thought I understood why the producers made this decision. They wanted the focus of this fictional dystopia to be the oppression of women, period. There is also the practical consideration that if they had adhered more faithfully to the source material, the entire cast of this series would be white.

While I was thinking about what I would write about this episode, I realized that I hadn't thought through that assumption. They could have kept Gilead logically racist by having Handmaids of color while all of the Commanders and Wives were white. White slave owners in the past often raped and impregnated their black slaves, didn't they? And of course, June could have still had a black husband and daughter. I wonder why they didn't go that way? It would have made a lot more sense.

More glowing comments about the photography

As usual, the photography in this episode was spectacular. I was particularly struck by the from-above shot of Handmaids circling Ofandy with comfort and hugs, June in the snow with a red umbrella on her way to Loaves and Fishes, and the camera attached and moving with Ofmatthew's gun. The most striking was the line of red blood on white tile as Ofmatthew's body was dragged out of the store; it reminded me of the red ropes they use for hanging.

And the flashbacks were so pretty that they often looked unreal – the diffused lights on the Christmas tree, the sparkling clothing and hangings at the nightclub, the New Year's Eve glitter. I'm sure that was on purpose. The unreality, I mean.

Do they celebrate Christmas in Gilead? Has it been mentioned? It seems unlikely. But I didn't think they would have dancing, either.

Bits:

— The name of Hannah's Martha wasn't mentioned in the previous episode, but here, the very first scene started with June talking about Frances, and what an ordinary life she led before Gilead. Much like Lydia.

— Janine was kindness itself toward Ofmatthew, and when Ofmatthew lost it in Loaves and Fishes, she beat the crap out of Janine. It would have made more sense if Ofmatthew had attacked June, instead.

— During the birth scenes and the testifying, the Handmaids were acting a little like a bitchy high school clique. "Crybaby! Crybaby! Crybaby! Crybaby!" actually made me laugh.

— June told Joseph Lawrence that he wasn't protecting Eleanor, he was suffocating her. Lawrence didn't take the bait. I'm starting to think the Lawrences are in danger. Gilead turns on its own on a regular basis. No one is safe.

— The Lydia/Ryan twenty questions scene that opened the flashback began with Ryan asking, "Am I alive?" I wonder. Is he?

— Gold acting stars for Ashleigh LaThrop, who played Ofmatthew. I wish we'd known her character's real name. Maybe we'll find out what it was at the beginning of the next episode.

Quotes:

Aunt Lydia: "Tell your friends to cool it." June: "I'm sorry, Aunt Lydia. I don't know what you're talking about. You want to take my tongue out? Burn my arm? Better hope they don't need me on TV again for Nichole."

June: "How did that rhyme go? The one we'd jump rope to? Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor, rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief. A game to tell what our children would grow up to be. The list is a lot shorter now, especially if it's a girl. Martha, Jezebel, Handmaid, Wife." What about "Aunt"?

Noelle: "You're a fucking coldhearted bitch!" Lydia: "I forgive you."

Aunt Lydia: "Sometimes it's the apple, and sometimes it's the barrel." Aunt Lydia has decided it's the barrel this time. She wants to transfer June to another household. Uh oh.

June: "I hurt her. and I enjoyed it. The wives and aunts, too, grieving over Ofandy's dead child. And Lawrence. They all deserve to suffer. It's an acquired taste, seeing others in pain. Like that smoky scotch Luke got as a gift once. I grew to like that."

June: "I finally know how Oflgen felt, what made her put on that bomb vest. […] And I know how Emily felt, right before she stuck a knife in Lydia's back." Again, it sure sounds like June is ready to die.

This is the second episode in a row that I didn't much like. Two out of four smoky scotches.

---

Billie Doux loves good television and spends way too much time writing about it.

[vivi-idkyih]



In no way shape or form was I trying to make you a sound crazy and you are not using the word coon correctly at all I literally explained to you how the word doesn’t apply to me so please Stfu. nobody is stopping you from having your fun and nobody is stopping you from taking inspiration from the character And adding features that are similar to yours that is guess what my friend an OC. You keep talking about not having a lot of representation in anime as if I don’t know that already but just because you want representation doesn’t give you the right to erase a characters race and culture background like I said multiple times. Asking people not to change the skin color of a character is not the same as asking someone not to cosplay a character. I don’t even know why you would try to compare the two. I agree that this is getting old your whole “ i’m black and whatever I say goes because I’m more oppressed ” attitude has to go. It’s not that oppression Olympics if somebody took a black character and change the Skintone to white you literally would have a field day in their comments so you’re honestly just a hypocrite. nobody’s back peddling I’ve just been replying to you explaining the same things I’ve been saying but in a simpler way because you seem not to get it each time. Yeah go ahead and make a fool out of yourself using terminology that the oppressors do against your own race yeah that’s very pro black of you yea that’s not very coonish of you at all. No one‘s trying to make you seem aggressive you are being aggressive you don’t know how to have a simple conversation disagreeing with someone without resorting to insults and it’s actually hilarious to see how low of an IQ you have. Babe you can say whatever you want to be honest you’re just an idiot. You only see one way in that way is the wrong way you’re so narrowed you refuse to expand your view and it’s honestly mind blowing how you can just ignore an obvious issue that you would have a problem with if it was happening to your race but because it’s not cool yeah you’re definitely a terrible person but whatever. To sum things up you literally are ignoring clear signs of racism in your own community because you’re too fucking Stuck on being the most oppressed that you refuse to even recognize the oppression of other races around you. you are not trying to work towards POC unity like you mentioned in one of your reblogs you’re honestly just pushing for more separation also take some time off TikTok because I can tell that’s where you get your whole personality from the whole Bestie thing yeah drop it

@nini-idkyih if you dont like black people just say that and stfu and stop talkin to me❤️ yall can be racist and antiblack together and while you at is suck down a dick pls and thx bestie❤️❤️❤️

[zillion-ronald-manus]

im out of meme ideas for now so i’m just going to copy&paste the Omniversal Battle Wiki page for Luka from Monster Girl Quest

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Summary

Luka is a 15 year old boy, born with the blood of fallen angels in his veins. He's just an innocent, naive little boy, precious as can be, who dreams of a day when monsters and humans would coexist peacefully instead of all the opression that's widespread across the world. His mom, Lucifina, died from an epidemic when he was younger, so he's been living by himself at a young age. One day, ilias calls out to him in a vision and tells him to go and defeat the current monster lord, the latest in a long line of powerful yoma that traces back to the dark goddess herself. But since he's naive he decides to get baptized and do it, regardless of the fact that he'd probably die in an instant. He's walking back to his house one day, when he meets a strange yoma named Alice. He's forced to choose between helping her or going to his baptism, and of course he chooses to help. He befriends Alice and travels the world with her in his quest to defeat the monster lord and end racism.

Along the course of his quest, he goes from being a naive little boy with big dreams to a tougher-than-nails motherfucker who splits heaven and earth to bring a star down to hell just so he can counterattack someone, not to mention he single-handedly ends wars by defeating both armies himself.

Powers and Stats

Tier: At least High 2-A | Low 1-C | 1-C, possibly higher

Name: Luka, Fallen Angel, Corrupted hero, Son of Lucifina

Origin: Monster Girl Quest

Gender: Male

Age: 15

Classification: Human/Angel hybrid

Powers and Abilities: Superhuman physical characteristics, Space manipulation, Dimensional manipulation, Time manipulation, Soul manipulation, Acasuality, Weakness alteration, Sealing, Healing, Elemental manipulation, Matter manipulation, Death manipulation, Existence erasure resistance, Conceptual manipulation resistance, Matter manipulation resistance, Death manipulation resistance, Light manipulation, Darkness manipulation.

Attack Potency: High Multiverse Level+ (Defeated beings like Goddess Ilias and Adramelech, the former is the embodiment of perfect nonexistence on at the very least a 5D scale, while the latter can erase Multiversal SpaceTime on a near-conceptual level by existing) | Complex Multiverse Level (freely moved around within an isolated area of the multiverse, which was beyond even Goddess Ilias' perception. Completely unfazed, physically speaking, when Sonya Chaos warped reality using the Chaos, a phenomenon infinitely beyond a normal multiverse and which exists inside and outside of all multiverses as the antonym to all existence. Also unfazed when Adramelech at her full power manipulates the same phenomenon into outright destroying a universal section of existence itself. Spoke face-to-face with the overseer of countless 5D multiverses, and was able to defeat her when she was holding back. Defeated every one of Sonya's forms. Likely comparable to the seraphs.) possibly Higher (the MGQ verse follows quantum mechanics and wave functions, which opens the door towards possibly 11 dimensions, or, if we go farther to the extreme, infinite dimensions via hilbert space.)

Speed: Immeasurable (Could freely exist within, run around in, think within and even dodge light within places where conventional spacetime didn't exist, many times, and can speedblitz people who can do the same. Accessed a future point in another timeline by physically walking.)

Lifting Strength: Mountain Level (Escaped the grasp of a mountain-sized monster), probably higher (He's gotten much stronger since then.)| Immeasurable By nature of being a higher dimensional being.

Striking Strength: High Multiverse Level+ | Complex Multiverse level, possibly higher

Durability: High Multiverse Level+ (Traded blows with Adramelech and Goddess Ilias, is capable of defeating and tanking blows from the seraphs and the Lilith sisters.) | Complex Multiverse Level

Stamina: Very high (Able to climb entire mountains in little time, can fuck grills for days or even months straight, seldom even needing water.) | Immeasurable by nature of being a higher dimensional being.

Range: Possibly Universal (Caused an endlessly expanding being who could devour the entire universe if left unchecked to dissolve into a shapeless blob of flesh.)

Standard Equipment: The Angel halo, a baleful sword created by Heinrich by melting 666 angels alive and fusing them onto a sword. Can either kill, or seal when the enemy is weak enough, whichever the user may wish.

Intelligence: Genius (his mathematical knowledge impressed Promestein, who single-handedly discovered every field of modern science, including physics and quantum physics, with only rocks in a cave.)

Weaknesses: Becomes weak and bitch-like for about a day every time he cums.

Feats:

Is capable of effortlessly defeating Apoptosis, beings created from spacetime itself ripping itself apart and putting itself back together.

Can easily exist, move within, think, run laps within and dodge shit within places where conventional spacetime is destroyed as well as places that transcend spacetime.

Can effortlessly breach and move through inter-dimensional barriers.

Can easily move himself and others to and from isolated areas of spacetime (Pocket dimensions) as well as entirely separate timelines.

Traded blows with Adramelech, Sonya Chaos, and Tamamo, one of the six ancestors in her prime. All of them should be metaversal one way or another.

Able to seal and touch non-corporeal beings like angels.

Can heal himself both mentally and physically simply by focusing his mind.

Can imbue his blade with healing properties, which allows him to heal allies.

With holy energy-based attacks, he is capable of dissolving an opponent's physical body into light and sending their soul to heaven, the latter probably has something to do with soul manipulation and sealing.

Can transform enemies' bodies into stone statues with attacks that inflict petrification.

Can instantaneously end an opponent's life with most darkness-imbued attacks.

Can alter his enemies' weaknesses with taoism skills, which cause enemies to gain a heightened vulnerability to a specific element.

One-shot an AP-ignoring barrier while still in a relatively early and weak stage of the game.

Can hit and kill non-corporeal beings.

Notable Attacks/Techniques:

Daystar: A counter-attack which he performs when the enemy attempts to attack. Hits extremely hard. Later upgrades this to Infallible daystar, which is even more powerful.

Ninefold Rakshasa: A flurry of 9 sword strikes which only seraphim-level angels can use. Described as "near infinite" in-game, but it only hits 9 times. Upgrades this attack to Ninefold Rakasha: Asura, which basically just does more damage, and can thus be assumed is stronger than the original.

Fallen Angel Dance: Allows him to perfectly dodge most attacks, even those that are thrown at him by a being with immeasurable speed. His attacks also never miss and hit twice.

Heavenly Demon Revival: A concentration of Luka's power which deals massive damage. Later upgrades this attack to Heavenly demon revival: Gaia, which makes it even stronger.

Flash Kill: Splits the very fabric of space and time and can destroy even things that have AP-ignoring hax. Upgrades this attack to Flash kill: Destructive wind, which boosts it's strength massively.

Element Spica: A skill which deals horrendously massive damage, but costs a lot of stamina to perform. Imbued with the power of all 4 elemental spirits, who embody the universal concepts of their respective elements.

Quadruple Giga: Luka's strongest skill and a toned up version of element spica. If activated while the 4 spirits are in effect, it's power increases 10,000 fold. "The power of this skill is amplified by each spirit imbued in it. But if all four were at a power of ten, it wouldn’t be ten times four for forty... It would be ten to the fourth power for 10,000..."- Alipheese the 16th.

Note: By nature of being an angel, logic would imply that he also has Mid-Godly regeneration and types 1, 4 and 8 of immortality, but gameplay and the general story appears to contradict it. Could it be something to do with him being only a half-angel?

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July 18 by CosmicGenocide

That might be the single greatest description for a weakness I have ever seen.

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The Greatest Adventure Stories, Ranked

Destiny 2

Sept Sci-Fi

Adam Ruins

[knightofbalance-13]

https://sokumotanaka.tumblr.com/post/163233377889/knightofbalance-13

Well Soku, you just made an ass out of your self. Again.

If you’re talking about FMF he never said that like he had respect for monty and multiple people can tell your otherwise but hey you called the entire fandom because they didn’t agree with you idiots.

Not who I was referring to. he doesn’t, but not who I was referring too.

Nope, just the guy who said Monty “unable to write a plot, animate, develop characters, make decent looking characters, or anything vaguely good. If RWBY can be hardcore garbage with no value whatsoever.” And you said “Rip them up!“ and tried to change the subject to a moral one. (https://sokumotanaka.tumblr.com/post/163181907124/okay-so - https://sokumotanaka.tumblr.com/post/163181906304/okay-so)

Let that soak in people; this “knight” literally just profiled an entire fanbase and then after talking shit about other people using mob mentality tried the same exact thing he berated.

Mind providing proof for that? Trick question, you can’t. I’ve only ever said that about the RWDE tag so either you’re lying or the collective ego of the RWDE tag is so big they only see themselves as fans.

Your opinion of devalue is idiotic; harsh or not criticism is still criticism and if you want to lecture anyone ,how bout taking your own damn advice and not being an ass to everyone to the point they shit talk you and say what a horrid human being you are.

So...asking RWBY to be shunned from the new crossover game is criticism? (https://sokumotanaka.tumblr.com/post/163125143024/deadlykillerqueen-can-someone-make-a-not-you) Saying that it is fucked up that RWBY is in the crossover game is criticism? (https://sokumotanaka.tumblr.com/post/163068098829/deadlykillerqueen-guilty-gear-and-melty-blood) Saying RWBy ahs never done anything spectacular is criticism? (https://sokumotanaka.tumblr.com/post/163068603209/im-laughing-cause-i-sitting-here-thinking-what) Cuz uh, that sounds like devaluing RWBY to me.

(My grandfather a man who fought for your damn freedom, walks in and see’s your post and states: Theres no sadder sight than the pettiness of men like him. Let that sink in a man who fought in war thinks you’re a piece of shit. I’m ashamed to be apart of the human race; reading your post makes me actually sicn to my stomach.)

And I know you didn’t just misrepresent it, lie about it, make something else up or even have a grandfather that was in a war...how? You’ve lied and cheated so many times that without evidence your words mean nothing. And even if it is true: i’m a Nihilist. those insults do nothing to me. Whatever.

The act of assult is a physical attack you fool, a simple google search can prove that to you easily a literaty teacher would look at you like you’re illterate which you have proven with you misspelling it and is a two letter word so I mean you have no right to comment on misspellings.

And you misspelled “assault” “Literary” and “illiterate.” 1 Vs. 4 so far. And a literary teacher would tell you about this thing called “verbal assault.” Sort of what you are attempting here.

Also you when you” Error “The WHite fang” this guy is the one who talks about others spelling when he shoudl adress his own. my 13 year old sister can spell better. “The WHite fang is a racist subplot.” Need I link the miles saying “I don’t want the plot to be overshadowed by faunus racism” and how he talks about the racist subplot. Also stating hints like the white fang title, the underground rail road etc I mean miles would tell you otuerwise *shrug*

And she can spell better than you too, “should” “address” and “otuerwise” And Miles wanting to focus on the main plot and not a subpot is racist...how? ever heard of the trope “What Do You Mean, It’s Not Political.” Look it up. And I’ve noticed you didn’t address how other racial minorities are not finding this subplot racist, you just moved the goalpost to the question of “is the White Fang subplot racist”. Nice try on the logical fallacy.

“Sit by.” Any proof? cause I can source many who would say otherwise; if you want to be chewed to pieces, also let’s not use them as a crutch to support yor shitty behavior this is about you.

So when Mage got called a homophobe you did something and when RWBY-Analysis got called a homophobe you did something? (https://rwby-analysis.tumblr.com/post/162751186437/ejladybug-its-pretty-low-to-accuse-someone-of) because I don’t see you calling them out or anything. And they were called that for not screeching at RT about BMBLB and defending them so...What am I to think?

People? Kob? people? only YOU been called that by Me because of your previous actions many have against people who again have thousands of reciepts; maybe we should have everyone pile them on ya.

And this makes no sense: “many have against”. Are all of them LGBT? oh wait, considering that my three colleagues in team CRTQ are all LGBT, @mageknight14 and @phoenix-theurge are both bi and my best friends and they are not against calling my behavior out as dreams-or-atlantis can attest when I lashed out against her when Dudeblade betrayed me, Which means that I really can’t be a homophobe if I have LGBT friends who I am okay with calling me out on bad behavior and they have done so in the past: It probably means that I am tired of hearing drama surrounding so -called “LGBT problems” and that I’m sick and tired of seeing my friends blow up because of it. It just means I don’t like some people who happen to be LGBT: I’m not selective against them. Hel, I hate Dudeblade and he’s straight.

Also, good luck finding receipts that don’t incriminate you instead or aren’t edited to only show my responses so you take me out of context.

Again only you when you said racist and sexist bullshit.

And Mageknight...who is black, and Tumblezwei...is a female. And you call e that here and in the post I referenced even though neither are about race or sex.

Consider the post you made and the proof we all have against you; the worst I called you was racist and sexist for racist and sexist actions, you literally sent death threats and think that’s an okay action and action you should go to jail for and let’s be real you’ll be talking all types of shit till those bars close then I’ll be the one saying “I told you so.” hubris. I mean I don’t have a name like kkkob and no one actually hates/blocks me so….choose your words carefully.

Okay Sokukluxklan (guess that makes you a Klan member by your own logic. Or you can admit that logic is stupid and move on):

What about the proof I have against all of you for lying and cheating: that just means your proof will be held into question a lot more than mine. and take into account the number of times you have been shot down due to basic research and a little fact checking (such as your stalking point). Also take into account how when you do provide links, half of them have nothing to do with the subject at hand and then fall under “slander” thus your creditability will be shot. Also take into account that I have provided proof and evidence against you numerous times now and you have not once debunked my sources so my sources are more believable. Also take into account that I brought up the death threat point and asked for evidence and you didn’t address it at all despite, what you said, having thousands or receipts. So therefore, you cannot provide evidence so why should anyone believe you? And then take into account you have told me to kill myself by drinking bleach so you would probably be the one in jail if I so choose.

Take all of this together and anyone who thinks critically will see that you are just trying to draw attention away from your own flaws.

You want to slander me and apply all your failings onto me but as well all know

[masked-fox-creations]

When The Strangers Blew In, Ch. 11

Fidds really gets to shine in this part. Don't worry, Rick has his own moments in the next. I just had to break up the carnival into two chapters because it was getting long and it flows better this way. Lots of things are gonna happen after this.

Summary: Stanford and Stanley Pines dream of a different life. One where they’re not just tidying their pa’s shop or helping ma take care of the baby. Where they can live freely as the men they know they are, instead of pa hounding them to marry before they become spinsters. They get a taste of that possibility when two strangers blow into town, but with them comes a heap of trouble.

Pairings: Rick/Stan (stanchez); Fiddleford/Stanford (fiddauthor)

Warnings for this chapter: Mild suggestive comments from Rick, the usual mild time period racism and snobbery from Bud and Preston.

ao3 link

Chapter 11— I Know I’ll Hear You Singing

Stanley was hurriedly fixing Stanford’s hair as Stanford adjusted the belt around Stanley’s waist. They refused to admit how long they had been running around their room trying to find the perfect look. Discarded dresses littered the floor and bed, and their sanity was a mess of jewelry and accessories.

Just as they stepped back from each other for a final appraisal there was a knock at the front door. Stanley grabbed his brother’s arm and shot out of their room and down the stairs, passing Ma who was heading towards the door herself. She stepped back with a knowing grin, letting the twins answer it.

“Howdy!” they panted in unison.

Rick and Fiddleford looked even classier than they had the previous night. Stanley made a not to compliment Carla later.

“Ready to go?” Rick asked.

“Anywhere with you,” Stanley said without thinking. He quickly grabbed Rick’s wrist and pulled him inside. “Ma! Guess who’s here?”

“Two fine gentlemen?”

“Nope.”

“Not even close, ma. Your psychic powers must be off today.”

“Must be all the rain we’ve gotten.”

“Hello, ma’am,” Fiddleford greeted as Rick nodded. At her pointed look he quickly corrected, “I mean, Martha.”

Shermie wiggled in her arms. He reached out towards the men saying, “Fih, Fih!”

“Aw, hello, little guy.”

Fiddleford tickled the babe who giggled happily. Ma rolled her eyes and handed Shermie over.

“Here, I need ta finish getting ready, anyway. And apparently ta light a fire under your father.”

“Why don’t we go on ahead, Ma?” Stanley suggested hopefully. “Hm. Well, if you two promise not to take advantage of these precious flowers.”

“Of course, ma’am, we would never,” Fiddleford assured.

“I was talking to the twins. Behave yourselves, girls.”

“I promise we’ll behave like ourselves. Thanks, Ma!”

The twins hurriedly kissed her goodbye and dragged the men back outside.

“Yer ma’s quite the woman,” Fiddleford commented, shifting Shermie in his arms.

“Yeah, it’s easy to see who you two take after.”

“I’ll assume those are both compliments. Now let’s go.”

Rick offered his arm. “May I, little lady?”

“You may fuck off,” Stanley returned, walking past him. Rick just grinned and followed.

“So wh-what, what is this fair like? Don’t tell me it’s all puritan dancing and coleslaw.”

Stanford furrowed his brow.

“You make no sense on most occasions Rick, have i ever told you that?”

“Don’t worry, there are plenty of games. Ring toss, tests of strength, all the good ones.”

“I’m great at games,” Rick said. “Want me to win you a doll, Lee?”

Stanley snorted.

“I’d make you eat it, Rick.”

“I’d rather eat—” “And this conversation’s over!” Stanford declared as Fiddleford covered Shermie’s ears. Rick gave an innocent smile.

“I was just going to say ice cream.”

“Ish crem!”

“See? The kid gets me.”

Festivities were already underway when they reached the fair. Stalls with various games and confections were set up all over, and a band was playing a cheerful tune beside a dancing stage that had been erected. It was bustling with happy families and couples, and little children ran merrily about from one attraction to the other.

“Ain’t this lovely,” Fiddleford commented.

“Quaint,” Rick returned, not quite sounding impressed.

Stanley ignored him, scanning the crowd. There on the stage was Susan. She was dancing with a couple of younger kids. Shandra he recognized right away, and Boyish Dan Corduroy; he couldn’t remember the name of the last girl, something with a ’t’. He caught Susan’s eye and waved. In a flash she hopped down and over, dragging her dance partners along.

“You’re here!” she exclaimed happily, throwing her arms around Stanley. When she pulled away she gave Rick and Fiddleford a once over. “Don’t you two look nice. Carla really pulled out all her magic this time.”

“Th-the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Wink,” Susan giggled, turning back to the twins. “I told her that shirt would look good on Fidds, and was I right or what?”

Shandra scoffed, looking Rick and Fiddleford over for herself. She didn’t seem impressed.

“Problem, kid?” Rick snapped. She shrugged.

“Well, I suppose I can understand the low standards, considering the few available—and even fewer decent men around here.”

“Yeesh, Shandra, pleasant as always,” Stanley said, rolling his eyes.

“Well, she’s right in part, and we’ve said as much before,” Stanford pointed out, and his twin nodded in agreement. Then Stanford side-eyed Rick. “Besides, she’s not completely wrong.”

Rick narrowed his eyes petulantly but went ignored.

“Uh, does that include me?” Dan asked worriedly.

The third kid put her arm on Dan’s with a giggle. “I’m sure Shandra didn’t mean you.”

The other girl scoffed, causing Dan to frown.

“Shandra, entertain the boys a minute, we’ll be right back,” Susan said, taking either twin by the arm and leading them away. The other girl followed them.

She stopped when they were a good distance away from the others, while also not near any other listening ears. Susan let go of them to pull the girl up beside her, her wide smile an odd juxtaposition with the younger kid’s suddenly nervous expression.

“What’s going on here?” Stanley finally asked.

“Stanley, Stanford—”

“Whoa!” Stanley interjected, his twin stiffening beside him. “I, uh, got no idea who you’re talking about there. Never heard those names in our life, right Sixer?”

Susan held up a calming hand and assured, “It’s okay, Tressa knows.”

“Um, I was actually thinking I’d prefer the name Tyler, if you don’t mind.”

“Aww, that’s a cute name for you! Boys, Tyler here was walking around late one night around the saloon and saw you two apparently jumping out of a window and found out your secret. He came to me and we got to talking and, well, Tyler, these are Stanford and Stanley Pines. I know they don’t look like much, but they’re boys like you.”

“Wait, so you…?”

Tyler nodded adamantly confident smile on his face now.

“I started talking to Susan one day and she said I wasn’t the only one. I could hardly believe it! All this time I thought I was alone, like, like—”

“Like a freak,” Stanley supplied.

“An anomaly,” Stanford added, not quite looking at anyone.

Tyler nodded.

“But I’m not—we’re not. Oh, this is so exciting!”

Suddenly Tyler’s arms were around both twins, squeezing as tight as he could. Then Susan was joining in and they were trapped.

“Oh boy, another hugger. Great.”

“This is going on far too long,” Stanford said, catching Stanley’s eyes and silently pleading for him to end it.

“Alright, enough of this touchy feely stuff. We’re here to have fun, right? And be extremely petty.”

Finally the pair let go. Both were beaming.

“Right! Oh, I’m going to dance with Dan the whole night through! I’m so glad I found you two.”

“Ah, well, we know how, uh, how weird and hard this is,” Stanley said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “So if ya ever got questions or anything—”

“We’re here,” Stanford finished with a small smile of his own.

“Thank you so much!”

Tyler threw his arms around them again for one last hug before racing back to the others.

“Isn’t it just wild finding someone else like you?” Susan wondered. “Makes you wonder how many other folk like you are out there.”

They shared a secret look as Susan followed after Tyler. Then they glanced over at the waiting group. It was hard to tell if Rick and Shandra were getting along or butting heads; Stanley secretly feared what they could accomplish together.

“The world just keeps expanding,” Stanford mused, adjusting his glasses.

Stanley clamped him on the shoulder.

“Yup. Let’s go see how far it goes.”

They rejoined the others, Stanley snaking an arm around Rick’s waist while Stanford went to Fiddleford’s side. He didn’t miss the other man entwine their fingers together.

“Alright, I for one am ready to have some fun,” Stanley said, interrupting whatever conversation they had been having.

“Then let’s get out of here.”

Stanley smacked Rick’s hat over his eyes.
 “Well, I’m certainly eager to check out the games,” Fiddleford said. “I’ll have you know carnival games are my specialty.”

“I expect you to win Sixer something good then.”

“I reckon I’ll have to win the biggest prize they have.”

A blush creeping up his neck Stanford said, “That’s unnecessary, you don’t have to. Really.”

“Oh no, no, I’ve been challenged and I don’t intend ta back down. Prepare to get the biggest prize we can find.”

With that confident declaration Fiddleford excused himself and pulled Stanford along towards the game stalls. He weakly protested but didn’t try to wrest free. Stanley and Rick readily followed.

“Is he actually any good?” Stanley wondered, speaking low so Fiddleford wouldn’t overhear.

“Oh yeah. I-it’s pretty impressive.”

“Swell.” Stanley paused a moment before adding, “You better win me something, too.”

“What? The hell do I look like?”

“Like a guy who’s supposed to be courting me.”

“You know, I offered earlier but you just insulted me.”

“You weren’t being serious then and we both know it.” Stanley shrugged. “But I get it. Too tall an order.” Rick quirked his eyebrow as Stanley patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry if you’re not man enough, I’m sure Fiddlesticks can win me something, too.”

Over his shoulder Fiddleford called out, “Can do, darlin’!”

Shermie squirmed around to peer at Rick, gurgling out something that sounded vaguely like, “Darlin’!”

Rick scowled but followed Fiddleford around the booths as the latter scanned their options. He was attempting to get Stanford to pick out what prize he wanted. Cheeks red, Stanford kept insisting Fiddleford didn’t need to win him anything. Which of course Fiddleford ignored.

Stanley, who had been scanning the place for Carla, interrupted them as his eyes landed on the woman. She was just across the fairgrounds sitting on a tree stump, stetson hat on her head and banjo in her hands. The woman was strumming away and her mouth was moving, though they were too far way to hear what she was singing.

“I-is she wearing my scarf?” Rick asked in disbelief. FIddleford looked up and his eyes widened.

“My banjo!”

Carla’s eyes landed on the four and she waved exuberantly at them. Fiddleford and Rick instantly marched over, the twins hot on their heels.

“Careful with my baby!” Fiddleford cried, reaching for the instrument. Carla snatched it away before he could grab it, wagging a finger.

“Careful now. You wouldn’t want to jostle that baby.”

“I’ll jostle you if you don’t take my scarf off,” Rick threatened. All it did was make her giggle.

“Hello, Carla,” the twins chimed.

“It didn’t take you long at all to steal their things,” Stanford commented.

“Don't worry, it means she likes ya.”

“Borrowed, thank you very much. And all it means is I have an eye for pretty things. Hence why I borrowed this hat.”

“Used to be my favorite, too,” Stanley sighed.

Carla stuck out her tongue and he pushed the brim down over her eyes.

“No manners at all.”

With a sigh Fiddleford said, “Please just don’t damage my Delilah.”

“What kinda girl do you take me for?”

“I shouldn’t say those words in front of a child.”

Carla let out a dramatic gasp.

“You’re all uncouth. Perfect for each other.”

“Ain’t that sweet,” Fiddleford replied, smiling now. Carla grinned back.

“Alright, weren’t we promised prizes?” Stanley spoke up.

“Ah-already told you that’s not happening now, Lee.”

“In a rare turn of events, I agree with Rick. You really don’t have to win us anything.”

“Nonsense! I thought I saw a stall with squashes that looked like they had faces. Wouldja like one of ‘em?”

Stanford’s face scrunched up, unsure if he was joking or not. Fiddleford seemed sincere, however, and Stanford didn’t know what to think—let alone how to respond. He didn’t get the chance to figure it out.

“Ah, Leah, Leanne!”

“Don’t you girls look downright charming.”

“And suddenly there was a sour taste on the wind,” Carla muttered, just loud enough for the four to hear.

Stanley turned to the unwelcome pair, pulling Rick around with him. Flashing them a smirk he nestled against Rick’s side.

“Oh, didn’t you guys bring a date?”

They instantly bristled. It was going to be a good day.

“Hmph. I see you’re here with these—” Preston waved his hand, searching for the appropriate word.

“Cowboys,” Bud supplied, the word coming out like something vile.

Rick burped, loud and long. Preston and Bud stared at him in a mixture of shock and disgust.

“Sorry to cut this short, fellas,” Fiddleford spoke up, “but we promised our dates here a prize, and it would be awfully ungentlemen-like to keep ‘em waiting.”

“Yup, see you pendejos later.”

The four started to turn towards the game stalls, but Preston made a dismissive sound that drew Stanley and Rick’s attention back to them.

“Of course,” Stanford muttered, not that anyone would have listened had he been any louder.

“Got something to say, Northwest?”

“Girls, if you desire some cheep booth prize, allow us to win it for you. These vagabonds look like they couldn’t catch more than some disease.”

“Please let���s just—” Stanford tried.

“Ah-are you really challenging us?” Rick interrupted, eyes narrowing at the pair.

“Oh no. Merely making an observation.”

“And these girls do deserve men who can prove their worth,” Bud added.

Stanford tugged on Fiddleford’s sleeve, pleading, “Drag Rick away and let’s go back to enjoying—”

“Now hold on a cotton-picking moment!” Fiddleford exclaimed, eliciting a sigh from Stanford. “Now I agree the twins deserve the best, and we intend ta provide that. And I don’t much care for yer tone, implying we can’t.”

Springing up Carla declared, “There’s only one way to settle this. I do believe you boys need to face off in some carnival games. Biggest prize is naturally the winner.”

Stanford rubbed his temples as the others readily agreed, even Shermie throwing up his chubby arms excitedly. There was no way to stop this now, though, and he could only go along.

They headed to the nearest game booth, where ten milk bottles were stacked in a pyramid. Stanford and Stanley stood to the side as the other four men stepped up to the counter, Fiddleford passing the babe to them. Carla, all eager grins, draped herself over the twins.

“Oh, this should be good.”

“No way can they lose to those two jokers,” Stanley snickered. Stanford sighed.

“I just wanted a calm, simple evening.”

His laments fell on uninterested ears. Stanford sighed again.

“A round of your finest balls for me and my companions, carny.”

“Of course, Mr. Northwest.”

As a ball was paced before each of them Bud turned to Fiddleford then Rick saying, “It would be rude of us to go first. Please, after you. That way this man won’t have to restack as much.”

Fiddleford hmphed and took aim. With a steady hand he tossed the ball, striking the pyramid on the bottom row and making them all come crashing down. There was a brief second of stunned silence all around. Then Rick burst into laughter as the booth manager announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a grand prize winner! Which would you like, lucky sir?”

“Which would you prefer, dear?” Fiddleford asked.

“Oh, um, the owl?”

The operator took down a large cloth owl. He handed it to Stanford who admired the toy—and Fiddleford’s skill.

“That was quite impressive.”

“Twasn’t nothin’, darling.”

Bud snorted.

“I suppose everyone has a bout of good luck at least once. Just you wait, Leanne, I’ll win you a better one.”

With that Bud tossed his ball at the newly erected pyramid. The top three bottles clanged to the ground.

Rick, Stan, and Carla all burst into laughter. Bud’s ears went red.

“Let me show you how it’s done,” Preston said, nudging Rick aside. “Leah, decide now which prize you want.”

He knocked down the topmost bottle.

“Pretty sure that ain’t gonna win anything,” Stanley commented.

“Besides some wounded pride,” Carla added with a giggle.

Rick shoved Preston out of the way and snatched up the last ball. With a cocky grin and burp he leveled it at the pyramid. He missed it completely by several inches.

“Wasn’t he bragging just a moment ago?” Stanford asked, leaning towards his twin. Stanley slapped a hand to his face.

“Looks like the only one with a prize is Sixer,” Carla announced. “And I’m not just talking ‘bout the owl.”

“Now hold up, this was just a warm up round. This Fiddlehorn—”

“Fiddleford.”

“Just managed to get in a lucky shot.”

Fiddleford stepped aside and let the three try again. This time they knocked down four pins between them.

“Alright now this is getting embarrassing,” Stanley said.

As they made their third attempts Susan came over, just in time to see Bud knock down the top bottle. She whistled.

“They sure ain’t too good at this game. That’s a pretty owl, though.”

“Oh, thank you. Fiddleford won it.”

“Aww. Yay, Fiddlesticks! Mind winning me a cat?”

As he nodded in affirmation Preston snorted.

“An empty promise! I doubt this cowboy could recreate his lucky strike.”

“Well that sure does sound like a challenge. One more for me, sir.”

Fiddleford took just a moment’s aim with the new ball before chucking it forward. Once again bottles flew everywhere.

“Another winner! Which cat would you like, little lady?”

At this point Preston, Bud, and even Rick were fuming. Carla couldn’t stop laughing. Stanley looked miffed.

“Is it too late to trade ya, Sixer?”

“By far.”

“N-not another word, Lee!” Rick called out. “I’ll win you a-ah stupid stuffed animal.”

Stanley gave him a disbelieving look which only seemed to fuel Rick’s determination. He snatched the ball from Preston’s had and chucked it with all his might at the pyramid. In an amazing feat, he took out three bottles from the middle, leaving the rest perfectly undisturbed.

“Holy moses,” Stanley muttered.

“This is the most hilarious moment of my life,” Carla whispered, staring wide eyed at the mostly-intact pyramid. “Thank you.”

“Well that was just appalling. Another ball,” Preston ordered, holding out his hand. Rick snatched this one up too and tossed again, ignoring the other man’s protests.

He hit it towards the bottom, and while the bottles teetered a bit none actually fell.

Preston hummed beside him and Rick cast him a dark look.

“Don’t act like you’re doing any better, pendejo.”

Stanley saw two approaching figures and groaned. As they came over ma waved.

“Already playing games? Oh, Leanne, did your beau win you that?” Stanford nodded. “So sweet. Rick, are you about to win my Leah a matching prize?”

Rick grumbled something and demanded another ball. This one flew right over the pyramid like a bird above the treetops.

“Allow me,” Preston said, once again pushing Rick out of the way.

He managed two bottles, at least. Carla was laughing so hard she was out of breath, hanging onto the twins to stay upright. Ma held a hand up to hide her smile.

“I see Fiddleford’s the only one any good at this game.”

“Yup.” To the others Stanley suggested, “Why don’t we try another booth? I’m getting tired of seeing you all lose.”

Pride thoroughly offended, the three ignored him and ordered another round of balls. Together they managed five pins.

“This is thoroughly embarrassing,” Stanford said.

Pa humphed gruffly, drawing the twins’ attention. He did not look impressed.

“Yeesh, we need to end this while Rick’s got any shred of dignity left.”

“No worries, he never had any to begin with.”

As Stanley narrowed his eyes, which his twin went unaffected by, Carla leaned forward and offered, “Anyone who wins me a stuffed frog gets a free beer at the saloon.”

“No need for bribery, dear. One frog coming right up.”

Fiddleford plucked the ball right out of Bud’s hand just as he was about to throw it. He took aim, and once again the whole pyramid came down.

Carla squealed when the booth operator handed her the stuffed frog, squeezing it tight and rubbing her face against it.

“This is so soft. Now only you need one, Lee.”

The words had hardly left her mouth when there was another crash and they all turned back to the stall. Fiddleford had knocked the bottles down again.

“Well it just wouldn’t be right for you not to have one, too, Lee.”

He beamed as Stanley took his prize: a stuffed dog.

“Not bad. Guess Fidds wins all around.”

“Congratulations Fiddleford!” Stanford beamed.

“Wh-what the hell doe that mean? We’re not done yet.”

“Far from it!” Preston agreed. “A man does not simply give up. Especially when victory is right in his gra—“

Another clang and a roar of cheers. Fiddleford had knocked the pyramid down once again, and this time he pointed to a raccoon, which he brought over to Martha. Shy smile on his face he handed it out to her. “Just because it’s your children being courted doesn’t mean you can’t get a prize too, ma’am—Martha.”

“Aren’t you a sweetheart.” She patted his cheek and glanced over at Stanford. “If we rush things together you can be married by the end of the month.”

“Ma!”

“Ah, ma’am—Martha, I mean, that’s a bit soon. Not that I would say no! Or, well, maybe I’d be the one asking, so…but still! The month is nearly over!”

Stanley grabbed Fiddleford by the shoulder and pulled him away to stand next to his gobsmacked, and very red, twin.

“Yer gonna break ‘em both, ma.”

“My motherly duty. You’ll understand one day, sweetie.”

“Yeah, I really don’t think so.”

“I-I’m done with this rigged game,” Rick grumbled.

“There are plenty of others here,” Bud agreed as Preston paid the ball manager. His face scrunched up.

“Wait, did I pay for your balls?”

“Y-you couldn’t afford them, buddy.”

Preston cast him an offended look as Rick walked off from the stall.

“I think pa and me are gonna walk around a bit. You kids have fun,” ma informed, taking Shermie. “You boys try not to embarrass yourselves too much.”

“Fiddleford is fine in that regard,” Stanford quipped. Rick shot him a glare; Stanley rolled his eyes.

After ma and pa were gone Carla asked, “So are you three conceding to Fiddsy-fie?”

“Please don’t call me that,” Fiddleford said while the others began to protest.

It seemed the competition wasn’t done, even though Stanley really wished it were. But Rick, Preston, and Bud refused to give up so they all made their way to the darts booth. Rick fared much better, actually managing to win Stanley one of the bigger prizes—Fidds still beat everyone.

It was the same way at ring toss. With ease Fiddleford won more prizes for the twins, Carla, and Susan. Rick and Bud managed to get matching finger puppets. Preston only managed to hit the booth manager in the face.

When they passed the strength test Stanley grabbed the mallet while the four argued over who’d go first. In one try Stanley sent the iron flying into the bell.

No one else had the nerve to try.

Preston and Bud were getting extremely irritated. Which Stanley did enjoy; it was even enough to keep him from teasing Rick. For now.

“Alright I”m done with these games,” he said. “FIdds and Rick are the winners.”

“Mostly Fidds,” Carla added, earning her a dry look from Rick. She winked at him.

“I did say how I was good at carnival games. Though I agree, there’s a-plenty else ta do.”

“Sounds like it’s dancing time!” Carla happily declared, linking an arm with either twin.

There was a chorus of agreements from Susan and Stanley, while Stanford gave a small nod. Rick’s face was blank but he didn’t protest so Stanley took that as acceptance.

“I’m up for a good jig, if ya don’t mind my two left feet, darling. I admit I’m better at making the music than dancing to it,” Fiddleford said.

As Stanford started to reassure him it made no difference, Preston scoffed.

“I can hardly imagine what a vagabond considers music.”

This seemed to offend both Fiddleford and Rick. The latter glared the rich boy down saying, “Th-that sounds like a challenge, pendejo. Thought you’d have enough of those by now.”

“What, plan on giving us a show?” Bud taunted, eliciting a smirk from the other man.

Rick glanced over at his partner. FIddleford grinned in return, wordlessly nodding. He turned to Carla.

“Be a dear and let me have my Delilah.”

Carla gleefully complied. Unslinging the banjo from around her back she asked Rick, “What about you, tall, blue, and lanky?”

Rick strode right past them all up to the men playing their instruments by the side of the dancing platform. Everyone else quickly followed.

“Take five, chumps. Time for some real music.”

All three paused, the middle one standing. “That is very insulting, but I also do not care.”

“I kinda do,” said another musician. He went ignored as the first one handed Rick his guitar.

“Thanks, Chiu,” Stanley said. “You guys can play again after these two have their little performance.”

“I would rather not continue playing boring hay music.”

With that Chiu walked off, his companions following.

“See, him I like. Why can’t Gravity Falls have more guys like him?”

“Because then we wouldn’t mind being here as much,” Stanley replied. “Well, get to impressing us.”

Rick winked and positioned the guitar, Fiddleford coming up beside him and readying his banjo. The others moved back a bit and watched the pair expectantly.

“What should we play, Rick?”

“‘In the Pines’.”

He tossed Stanley another wink, and somehow this one was full of coquetry that made a blush creep up his neck. He pressed the stuffed dog against his face in an attempt to hide it as best he could.

Rick started strumming away on the guitar, Fiddleford soon joining in. As the melody formed the twin could clearly sense the ease between them; they must have played together a lot. Curiously both wondered how long the partners had been riding, and working on the portal gun, together.

Rick’s voice rung out first, then Fiddleford’s joined, the song a conversation.

“My girl, my girl, don’t lie to me. Tell me where did you sleep last night?”

“In the pines, in the pines, where the sun don’t ever shine. I shivered the whole night through.”

“My girl, my girl, where will you go?”

“I’m going where the cold wind blows. In the pines, in the pines, where the sun don’t ever shine, I’ll shiver the whole night through.”

They were admittedly good. They had their own distinct voice, Fiddleford a little higher and a bit more rustic to counter Rick’s lower, smooth Spanish voice. A trace of accent could be heard, and Stanley wondered if Rick was purposefully making it come out to taunt Preston and Bud. Regardless, it was beautiful.

“They ain’t half bad,” Stanley whispered to his twin. Stanford made a small sound of agreement.

“Color me surprised,” Carla commented.

Susan motioned off to the side where Preston and Bud watched the singing pair with contempt.

“They don’t look too pleased.”

“Even better.”

“My husband once was a railroad man, killed a mile and a half from here.”

“His head was found in a driver’s wheel, but his body ain’t never been found.”

“My girl, my girl, where will you go?”

“I’m going where the cold wind blows.”

Together they sung the last verse.

“You called me to weep and you called me to moan. You called me to leave my home.”

As their song faded out the twins started clapping, Carla and Susan joining in. Stanley even put two fingers in his mouth and whistled. Sharing a grin, Rick and Fiddleford took a sweeping bow.

Preston huffed, pretending to examine his fingernails. Undaunted, Rick came over and slung an arm around Stanley. Not breaking eye contact with Preston he pressed a kiss to the side of Stanley’s head.

“Did you really enjoy it, sugar?” Fiddleford asked, coming over to Stanford.

“I’m no expert on music, but it was certainly, um…” Stanford stared at his hand that Fiddleford had taken in his, leaving him quite flustered. “C-certainly,” he swallowed hard, “lovely.”

Ma’s voice called out, and they all turned to see her and pa approaching. In addition to the raccoon Fidds had won her was a stuffed baby duck she proudly showed off.

“Look what Filbrick won me.”

“Shot some ducks, pa?”

“Every last one of them,” he answered ominously.

With pride instead of threat ma added, “He didn’t miss a single shot!”

Rick tensed up and Fiddleford noticeably gulped. Even Preston and Bud seemed intimidated, which the twins took some satisfaction in.

“Girls, why don’t you come with me for a minute and take a stroll.”

It wasn’t a request so much as a nicely worded order so the twins passed their stuffed animals off to Rick and Fiddleford. Ma went a ways off towards the end of the fairgrounds where there weren’t many others milling about.

“What’s on your mind, ma?”

“Is something the matter?”

A grave look fell over her face. She took either one of there hands and squeezed.

“I need to know how today’s been so far.”

“I think it’s going great, ma, no worries.”

“Oh, sweetie, I have to worry. I had a vision.”

Ma shut her eyes and the twins shared a frown.

“What do you mean? What kind of vision?”

“It was a terrible vision.” Her eyes shot open. They were glistening. “Listen to me closely, both of you. Tonight is very important. A lot of things are gonna happen—I’m not sure what exactly, but I can tell you there will be a huge decision to make. More than one, and you won’t be the only deciders. You both need to think on what you want and go for it. Tonight’s gonna set in motion one path or another that you’ll have to see through to the end.”

It took a second for her words to sink in. After a pause of mulling the warning over Stanley gave a reassuring smile, thought it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hey, ma, don’t look so glum. Have faith in your kids. We know what we want and we’re gonna fight for it, no matter what. Right Sixer?”

“Of course!”

“Just be safe, sweethearts. It’s not going to be easy.”

Stanley’s smile fell as his twin commented, “It never has been.”

Ma hugged them close. With a deep breath she pulled back and linked her arms through theirs, starting back for the others.

“Well, no reason to keep our men waiting.”

There was joy on her face again, a stark contrast to the fear just moments before. The twins tried to match her sudden joviality; their grins were just a bit shaky, however, but it would do for now.

[red-stocking]

What in your opinion are the upsides and downsides to both radical feminist theory and Marxist feminist theory? :)

THIS IS AN EXCELLENT QUESTION THANK YOU (as always i apologize for the hella long response)

First, i want to start off by saying that I would really define marxist feminism as kind of a sub-category of radical feminism. There is just such a tremendous overlap in theory, and quite a few radical feminists were also socialists, and vice versa. The real difference is kind of the plan-of-action, the ‘how to actually concretely fight the patriarchy’ part, and then kind of the in-practice cultures of marxist feminism and radical feminism.

I also wanna say that, in a perfect world, marxist feminist is a redundant phrase. Marx, Engels, Lenin and Zetkin all agreed that women’s rights must be part of a socialist program, without it you do not have socialism. That Marxism makes feminism unnecessary, because socialism is already fighting for equal rights for all, power to the people, no worker’s voice is stronger than another’s. There are many women marxists who do believe it is redundant and so they don’t apply the feminist label to themselves, Not because they are at all anti-feminist, and not out of condemnation to feminists of any kind, but because they see their ideas both as encompassing of the women’s struggle and not inclusive at all to the bourgeois feminist movement. If that makes sense. Anyway, I call myself a Marxist feminist because I don’t wish to distance myself from feminism, especially on this site, because I want to engage feminists and i want other feminists to see that we have ideas in common immediately, without me having to explain several marxist pillars. Both marxist and radical feminism look at the roots of womens oppression, they both analyze the social contexts in which patriarchy exists, and both recognize that femininity and masculinity are not innate, biological facts but culturally relative tools of oppression. 

So- the major pillars (or what I think they are) of radical feminism are included in marxism/marxist feminism. They differ then, in how we must dismantle the patriarchy. It has never been clear to me what the plan is in radical feminism. As far as I have been able to tell, its just analysis and like, growing consciousness or awareness at the socialization we as women experience. Or I have also seen separatism as a way to escape patriarchy. But otherwise, just suggestions of donating time and money to women’s shelters and charities, but none of these things actually change the system, none will deliver that huge blow that will take patriarchy down for good. If there is a radical feminist that knows differently, please do comment! I am not the most well-read person on the subject, so I could be wrong and just haven’t learned what that plan is yet. But yeah, as far as I know, that’s the plan.

The ultimate goal of marxism is to establish socialism. The idea behind marxism is that society changes when the people’s relationship to the means of production changed, and this is confirmed by what we know of archaeological history. When private property was first developed as a concept (and there was enough surplus from what people were producing to claim ownership on things) that was when women’s oppression began. Prior to that, there was what we call primitive communism, where resources were shared because there was not enough to go around anyway- communism for survival. There were divisions of labor between the sexes in most primitive communist societies (the whole hunter-gatherer idea) but there is a lot of evidence that these divisions were hardly strict, and not as pervasive as once thought. Then of course, under feudalism slavery was developed, and then later, with the transition to capitalism, racism really took hold. (there is a LOT of debate about when racism really ‘began’- but it did more or less coincide with the transition from feudalism to capitalism i believe.)

Sorry, that background was necessary. Basically, social relations in society change when the economics of society change.  Marxists then apply that idea to the future of humankind as well. They say, well if we want to dismantle these systems of oppression -sexism, racism, homophobia, ableism, etc) we have to change the relationship of the people to the means of production. We have to dismantle capitalism, and establish socialism. Giving women economic equality is the first step to dismantling patriarchy, and that cannot be done under capitalism. 

Now of course, no marxist/marxist feminist believes that all we need to do is have a socialist revolution and then Boom, we r done. After all, we still have the oppression of women, something that could have been dismantled with the transition from feudalism to capitalism, but wasn’t. There needs to be active intervention to ensure women’s equality under socialism after the revolution. After the Russian Revolution (which celebrates its 100th anniversary this year, and started with a women’s strike 100 years ago this wednesday!) there were programs established that gave access to free childcare, healthcare, contraception was legalized, it was easier for women to get divorced, women were given the right to vote and equal status to men was given immediately, and at one point the sciences had an equal representation of women- even almost tipping to give women a majority. This was the nation engaged in the space race with the US, remember. (I dont want to sound like I am in anyway romanticizing the USSR and I absolutely am NOT a Stalinist, but they got a couple things right in the early days and those are worth pointing out).So that is what I consider the ‘upside’ to marxist feminism, or the ‘downside’ to radical feminism. WOW OK ALMOST THERE STAY WITH ME YALL.

The other way in which radical feminism and marxist feminism differ is the communities. Marxism is dominated by men. So fucking dominated by men. i have found a leftist group that is very welcoming, aware of women’s oppression, and I feel very comfortable speaking up in the group- but I am the ‘token’ female, the only one. And this is not just my group, but the national and international organizations my group belongs to. There’s an LGBT Rights pamphlet but they really only talk about the G and the T. And I do know it isn’t out of maliciousness, I have met the guy who wrote that pamphlet. Its just. Out of sight out of mind. The representation of women is just appallingly low. They are aware of it and really do want to change it, they are working on making women’s issues more prominent in discussions, making their spaces more welcoming to women, etc. But at the moment, my sex sometimes can feel like a burden, or extra responsibility. Like I have to represent an entire half of the world by myself. There isnt really a ‘marxist feminist’ community, just marxists.

In radical feminist circles, obviously it is men who are the minority if they are at all present. Its a very different community than marxism. Obviously it’s not perfect, there are issues that the radfem community needs to work out, but I appreciate things like how open i can be about my menstrual cycle, I can vent about men a little more viciously than i would with my male comrades- though they are pretty accepting of anti-men rants, I gotta say. It’s just nice to talk to women and the culture in radical feminism is just- being a woman and an asshole is more acceptable lol. I don’t have to be on my tiptoes with what words I use. I am not even sure how to explain it tbh. So that’s the upside of radical feminism/ the downside of marxism. I talked about a ton of different stuff and touched on a lot more things, so if you or anyone wants to ask me any follow up q’s i welcome asks. anon is always on. sorry for the essay.

[thisdaynews]

Behind Nate Silver’s war with The New York Times

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/behind-nate-silvers-war-with-the-new-york-times/

Behind Nate Silver’s war with The New York Times

POLITICO illustration/Getty Images photo

Media

The paper’s one-time data guru can’t stop kicking his ex-employer for its 2020 polling analysis and supposed capitulation to Trump.

Nate Silver made his name as The New York Times’ data guru, creating the methodology that predicted Barack Obama’s re-election.

Now, Silver’s method seems to be to stir up trouble for the Times.

Story Continued Below

The 41-year-old editor of the data-driven news site FiveThirtyEight recently called his former employer arrogant, engaged in an extended Twitter debate with his successor, who is also named Nate, and helped ignite outrage online over the paper’s front-page headline on the president’s response to two mass shootings, a wound that caused such pain it obliged Times publisher A.G. Sulzberger and executive editor Dean Baquet to hold an all-staff meeting this week to clear the air.

Silver’s persistent criticism of the Times, stretching back to the last presidential election, has long struck some inside the newsroom as less about methodology and more about personal grievances with the paper that was unable to meet his demands to expandFiveThirtyEight and now publishes The Upshot, which features Nate Cohn’s coverage of elections, polling and demographics.

In discussions with POLITICO, Times staffers questioned Silver’s motivation for repeatedly criticizing the paper, though declined to comment publicly, declining to pick a fight with Silver and his three-plus million Twitter followers. However, frustrations have spilled out publicly, at times, with reporters suggesting on Twitter that Silver’s assessments of the paper’s journalism veered beyond respectful disagreement.

White House reporter Maggie Haberman once derided his “gratuitous jabs at a former employer,” while political and investigative reporter Nick Confessore characterized a tweet criticizing the paper’s 2016 coverage as “a cheap shot masquerading as something else.”

Silver, however, has not been deterred. In recent weeks, he took issue with reporter Peter Baker’s analysis of Robert Mueller’s testimony as “not the blockbuster Democrats had sought,” by grousing, “Why not just report the news and not reach for a weird like 5th order conditional/counterfactual narrative.” He also poured some gasoline on the embers of the dispute over Times deputy Washington editor Jonathan Weisman’s allegedly racist tweet. And he “sparked a social media furor,” as the Columbia Journalism Review noted, by being the first to call attention to the Times’ now-infamous headline on President Donald Trump’s response to shootings in El Paso, Texas, and Dayton, Ohio.

“Not sure “TRUMP URGES UNITY VS. RACISM” is how I would have framed the story,” Silver wrote in a tweet that was seized on by 2020 Democratic candidates and others critical of the headline. Editors changed the headline, which Baquet told staffers Monday was “a fucking mess.”

“I do think a lot of NYTs problems (and to be clear, there are *many* things they do very well along with some *serious* problems) are born out of arrogance; thinking they’re the most important voice in the room,” Silver wrote after the headline blow-up. “Nothing engenders that sort of arrogance like a lack of competition.”

When it comes to data analysis, at least, Silver offers competition of his own via FiveThirtyEight, the former Times site that is now under the auspices of ABC. This summer, a Silver-generated dispute over how the Times analyzes polling data has morphed into the “Battle of the Nates,” as the wonky Twitter beef has been dubbed. In one recent skirmish, Silver told the younger Cohn that he hoped he’d “grow out of” a phase of calling things “simultaneously a prediction and not a prediction.”

Cohn and Silver declined requests for interviews. But in emails to POLITICO, Silver praised Cohn’s work, while dismissing suggestions his criticism of the Times is motivated by a rivalry or personal grudge.

“Media criticism is a core part of what I do,” Silver said. “I founded FiveThirtyEight 11 years ago because I had a lot of critiques of how the American press covers elections.”

“Given the extremely prominent and influential place that the Times holds in coverage of American politics, any media critiques are naturally going to invoke the Times frequently,” he continued. “I think they’d do well to take those criticisms to heart instead of constantly accusing their critics of having ulterior motives or acting in bad faith.”

Nonetheless, New York Times spokesperson told POLITICO: “We don’t always agree with Nate but he sometimes offers smart criticism of our work and we value that, it makes us better.”

The Times’ history with Silver dates from 2010, when it took over FiveThirtyEight under a three-year agreement. His posts were a traffic-driver for the Times’s site and — like Cohn — he used polling data to raise provocative questions about elections, such as his Nov. 2011 Times magazine cover story asking, “Is Obama Toast?” Obama wasn’t, and Silver went on to correctly call all 50 states ahead of the 2012 re-election.

As his star rose in the media world, Silver, who was based in New York, developed a strained relationship with the Times’s political reporters in Washington. Former Times public editor Margaret Sullivan noted in 2013 how Silver didn’t “really fit into the Times culture”and Silver has accused the paper’s political reporters of being “incredibly hostile and incredibly unhelpful.”

Silver had fans in Times management, but the paper couldn’t meet his demands to stay.

“When Nate Silver was negotiating a new, richer contract, his lawyer told me that his client was ‘the prettiest girl at the prom,’” former Times executive editor Jill Abramson wrote in her 2018 book, “Merchants of Truth.” “I told him, perhaps echoing the past, ‘The Times is always the prettiest girl.’”

Abramson told POLITICO that Silver sought funding for about 20 “stat mavens in different areas, including sports and weather,” which “would have required a huge investment,” from the paper. In July 2013, Silver decamped to ESPN, which bought the FiveThirtyEight site and provided Silver with resources to build a data-driven newsroom. ABC News — which, like ESPN, is owned by Disney — acquired FiveThirtyEight last year.

The Times rebounded after Silver’s departure by hiring Cohn, another young data wiz, in Nov. 2013 and launching The Upshot five months later.

Both Silver and Cohn came under scrutiny during the 2016 election for underestimating Donald Trump in the Republican primary. On Election Day, The Upshot put Hillary Clinton’s chances of winning the electoral college at 85%, while FiveThirtyEight was less bullish than most election models at 71%.

Following the 2016 shocker, Silver published an 11-part opus: “The Real Story Of 2016: What reporters — and lots of data geeks, too — missed about the election, and what they’re still getting wrong.” And the Times, Silver wrote, “is a good place to look for where coverage went wrong.”

While the Times was Silver’s primary target, he suggested the paper’s political coverage was emblematic of broader problems in 2016, such as journalist groupthink, access-driven reporting, and a misplaced notion of Clinton’s inevitability. In the Trump era, Silver has accused the Times of normalizing neo-Nazism and being beholden to White House access.

On Tuesday, Silver suggested the Times is “too self-conscious about trying to prove” that it’s not part of the resistance to Trump that it will “likely worsen their journalism” and critics such as the president “will accuse them all of it all the same.”

And then there’s the running dispute with Cohn, who wrote on July 19 how Trump’s “Electoral College edge could grow in 2020.” Despite Trump’s low national polls, Cohn pointed to the importance of a potential “tipping-point state,” like Wisconsin, where the president’s favorability is higher than average.

Silver argued that Cohn’s analysis of Trump’s Electoral College path is premature based on the polling currently available. “I’m pretty skeptical that we can say much right now about whether it will be larger, smaller or nonexistent in 2020,” he tweeted.

Cohn acknowledged the map can change before the 2020 election, but responded: “The piece is plainly describing the president’s current standing, and goes to unusual lengths to explain that it can change.”

“I think it’s kind of BS to lean really heavily into a particular takeaway in top 80 percent of the article, not to mention the headline/lead/social promotion/etc., and then to introduce the caveats in (literally!!) the 42nd paragraph,” Silver responded. The spat resumed nearly a week later, with Silver accusing Cohn of cherry-picking data to support his hypothesis about an election 16 months away.

Dr. Rachel Bitecofer, assistant director of the Wason Center for Public Policy at Christopher Newport University, and who has analyzed the 2020 race using her own election model, told POLITICO that both Silver and Cohn had legitimate critiques.

But, she added, there seemed “to be a personal hostility that was coming through that was more than about methodology.” She said it looked like Silver was criticizing Cohn “for doing the same type of piece that Nate Silver has written many times.”

In an email to POLITICO, Silver praised Cohn for being “exceptionally good at what he does” and said that he doesn’t think “there are actually many philosophical differences” between them. He said “a lot of things that boil down to what you might call matters of taste,” such as “how certain things are described or when to apply a certain method to a certain problem.”

“Practitioners often feel passionately about matters like these,” he added, “but I don’t know that they’re terribly newsworthy or important in the grand scheme of things.”

Yet Silver didn’t let the dispute go. Days later, he offered a mocking subtweet in response to new polls: “bUt I WaS ToLd ThAt TrUmP LoOkEd StRoNg In ThE TiPPiNg PoInT StAtEs aNd HaS a BiGgEr eLeCtoRaL CoLLeGe AdVaNtAgE tHaN iN 2o16.”

New York magazine’s Jonathan Chait, one of the many journalists following the recurring Twitter spat, responded: “At this point, the best advice I can give you, as a fan of both, is to settle this with a straight-out fistfight.”

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