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Did you see the memo about this?
[Id. President/CEO Kintoki, wearing a gold bow tie, blue vest, blue suit; with his right arm on a cubicle and a coffee in a "#1 boss" mug in his left hand, smiling like he owns the place. End Id.]
#gintama#gintama fanart#my art#sakata kintoki#giving the guys a bastard for a -reads the corporate titles wikipedia page again- CEO#he bought that mug himself#i sometimes forget analog drawing doesn't have ctrl z so yeah that's a very wrong blue#i bet he'll send me a memo about this too#i bet he has a memo for every occasion#office worker au#salary men au
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A B12 vitamin a day keeps the brain fog away!
#acoustic#guitar#folk rock#original music#playlist#indie music#indie rock#lofi rock#analog#home recording#voice memos
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Memo to the 'Experts': Stop Comparing Israel's War in Gaza to Anything. It Has No Precedent | by John Spencer
Israel's war against Hamas in Gaza has inevitably drawn comparisons to other battles or wars, both modern and from the past. These comparisons are mostly used to make the case that Israel's operations in Gaza are the most destructive in history, or the deadliest in history.
Yet while the use of historical analogy may be tempting for armchair pundits, in the case of Israel's current war, the comparisons are often poorly cited, the data used inaccurate, and crucial context left out. Given the scale and context of an enemy purposely entrenched in densely populated urban areas, as well as the presence of tunnels, hostages, rockets, attackers that follow the laws of war while defenders purposely do not, and proximity between the frontlines and the home front, there is basically no historical comparison for this war.
Let's start with the context: After Hamas crossed into Israel on Oct. 7, murdering over 1,200 Israelis in brutal ways that included mutilation and sexual assaults as well as taking over 200 hostages back into Gaza, Israel formally declared a defensive war against Hamas in Gaza in accordance with international law and the United Nations charter. Since, the IDF estimates it has killed 10,000 Hamas operatives, while Hamas claims that the total number of casualties is 24,000 (Hamas does not distinguish civilian deaths from militant deaths).
Hamas' strategy is to use Palestinian civilians as human shields, because their goal is not to defeat Israel's military or to hold terrain; it is far more sinister and medieval—to use the death and suffering of Palestinian civilians to rally international support to their cause and demand that Israel halt their war.
Meanwhile, Israel's war aims were more traditional: returning Israeli hostages, dismantling Hamas military capability, and securing their border to prevent another October 7 attack.
These goals required not one major urban battle but multiple. While Gaza is not the densest populated urban region on earth as many claim, it features over 20 densely-populated cities. And while the Israeli Defense Forces are engaged in fighting, Hamas has continued to launch over 12,000 rockets on nearly every day of the war from the combat area toward civilian-populated areas in Israel, literally over the heads of the attacking IDF, who it bears mentioning are fighting just a few miles from their homeland and the homes of their soldiers.
Put all of this together, this war is simply without precedent. Certainly, it cannot be compared to the host of other wars that have been used for comparison sake to paint Israel in an unflattering light.
Some have compared Israel to Russia, yet there is simply no comparison. In the 2022 Battle of Mariupol, estimates of the number of civilians killed range up to 25,000, including 600 civilians killed in a single bombing of a theater with the word "children" written in giant letters around it. This is the same Russia that killed over 50,000 civilians (5 percent) of a 1.1 million pre-war population of Chechnya in 20 months of combat in the late 1990s in multiple major urban battles such as Grozny.
Or take Syria. Over 300,00 civilians have been killed in the Syrian war; an average of 84 civilians were killed every day from 2013 to 2023.
Others have compared the battles in Gaza to World War II air campaigns like the UK bombing of the German city of Dresden in 1945 that killed an estimated 25,000 civilians. But here, too, memory is selective: These same people discount air campaign cases such as the U.S. firebombing of Tokyo the same year that killed over 300,000 civilians, to include 80,000 to 100,000 civilians in a single night, causing more death and destruction than Dresden, Hiroshima, or Nagaski.
A battle that does bear a resemblance to Israel's war against Hamas is the 1945 Battle of Manila—the largest urban struggle of World War II, with more civilian casualties incurred than even the��Battle of Stalingrad. The city had a population of 1.1 million residents as well as over 1,000 American prisoners of war being held in the city. It took the U.S. military 35,000 forces and a whole month to defeat 17,000 Japanese Navy defenders in and around the city.
Like in Gaza, the defenders used the city's sewer and tunnel systems for offensive and defensive purposes. And there were over 100,000 civilian deaths from the battle—one of the major factors of the 1949 Geneva Conventions, which stipulated the laws of armed conflict to further protect civilians and prevent civilian deaths.
Most experts compare the Gaza war to the recent urban battles against ISIS involving United States forces, including the 2016-17 Battle of Mosul. In that battle, over 100,000 Iraqi Security Forces, backed by American advisors and U.S. and coalition air power, took nine months to clear a city of 3,000 to 5,000 lightly armed ISIS fighters. The battle resulted in over 10,000 civilian deaths, 138,000 houses destroyed or damaged and 58,000 damaged with 40,000 homes destroyed outright in just Western Mosul. Iraqi Security Forces suffered 10,000 casualties. There were very limited, shallow, house-to-house tunnels, but no tunnel networks, no hostages, no rockets.
In April of 2004, the U.S. military was directed to arrest the perpetrators of an attack that caused the death of four American civilians and deny insurgents sanctuary in the densely populated city of Fallujah, Iraq, a city of 300,000 residents. The battle that ensued was later dubbed the First Battle of Fallujah. Because of international condemnation and political instability fueled by international media over a perceived indiscriminate use of force and civilian casualties, the U.S. forces were ordered by the U.S. Central Command Commander to stop the battle six days into it.
Estimates of the total civilian deaths from the battle range from 220 to 600. Six months later, in November 2004, the U.S. military initiated the Second Battle of Fallujah. It took 13,000-15,000 U.S., UK, and Iraqi forces six weeks to clear the city of 3,000 insurgents. There were some 800 civilian deaths even though the city's residents had largely evacuated before the battle. Over sixty percent the city's buildings were damaged or destroyed. But there, too, the enemy defenders did not have access to tunnels.
Ultimately, comparisons with both past and modern cases highlight the fact that there is almost no way to defeat an entrenched enemy defender without destruction, even while implementing all feasible precautions and limits on the use of force required by the laws of war.
Let's put away our military history books. There is no comparison to what Israel has faced in Gaza—certainly none by which Israel comes out looking the worse.
John Spencer is chair of urban warfare studies at the Modern War Institute (MWI) at West Point, codirector of MWI's Urban Warfare Project and host of the "Urban Warfare Project Podcast." He served for 25 years as an infantry soldier, which included two combat tours in Iraq. He is the author of the book Connected Soldiers: Life, Leadership, and Social Connection in Modern War and co-author of Understanding Urban Warfare.
#israel#antisemitism#israeli#israel news#israel under attack#israel under fire#terrorism#anti terrorism#hamas#antisemitic#antisemites#jews#jew#judaism#jumblr#frumblr#jewish#israelunderattack#resources#civilian casualties
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i feel like.. Every character in your universe, Peter, Wade, Cable, Johnny, MJ, Gwen, fuck even Harry. All of them are “Right People, Wrong Time”. No matter what everyone they meet is the right person at the right time, because all of them are evolving characters who get better and get worse. They are all the right people for their respective partner, but none of them are in the right place. They fall in love with eachother, but the person they fall in love with doesn't even know who they are. They fall for the version of someone who that person despises most about themselves. I don't know if you do it on purpose, but there's a nice analogy you portray using love and time.
oh, bless you anon. if there are two themes in ask-spiderpool, it's love and time. heck, this little number is first on the ask-spiderpool playlist.
youtube
peter and wade are kind of always hilariously Not on the Same Page, ever, actually - when it comes to the freaky timescale of love. it's a running gag, really, that peter just has the poorest timing imaginable. he's always, always running late. always last to get the memo.
he decides it's time to fall in love with wade the precise Moment wade is making the active choice to fall OUT of love with him
wade's mad about that
peter decides to spring all this talk of love just as wade's finally finding his own sense of self-worth without all those extra complications messing up his head and peter sticks a wrench in it
i think all of wade and peter's relationship issues really do come down to peter having poor timing. for springing things onto wade long before or after he's ready for them. if he was earlier, it would've been less heartache. if he'd waited longer, maybe it would've been built on sturdier ground.
peter does the right thing at the wrong time. all the time. and he's trying - he's actively trying so hard right now to manage his timing. to not push wade too fast. to be patient.
but also not be too slow.
peter just - can't find the middle ground. and it's driving him crazy. he knows he needs the time to be right. but he doesn't know when the time will be right. the time is never right.
it's kind of the joke now, that peter and wade are kind of bouncing back and forth in time because neither of them are ready. they will be, eventually.
but for now...
it's true - kind of all of their relationships are victim to this - it's funny, i think i've been victim to it a bunch of times in my life, too. where a person might've been the one - might've been everything, but you... you just didn't act in time. you didn't recognise it at the time. things just... didn't work out. schedules didn't align. one small little misstep in the universe. i always wonder about what kind of people could've become important in my life, if i'd done a few things differently. if i'd said the right thing, at the right time.
ultimately, i think everything happens for a reason. and when something's the right time, it is the right time. there's no hypothetical "right time" that you missed the alarm for. if it were the right time, it would've happened. but life's a game about trying your darndest to know when to act, and when to hang-fire. and, well - what happens happens. you win, you lose. but whatever's meant to happen - well, it'll happen.
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december digital & analog ecosystem:
hobonichi weeks planner, filofax mini memos, moleskine cahier pocket logbook & midori a6 notebook + iphone and marshall motif anc
#jpg#int#jurassic world chaos theory#bullet journal#bujo#hobonichi original#hobonichi weeks#hobonichi
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Pensacola Prince Andrew, aka Matt Gaetz, has been defenestrated.
Good riddance.
The next weakest targets are the alleged rapist Pete Hegseth and the registered Qatari agent Pam Bondi.
The Democratic position should be communicated in simple words: an alleged rapist cannot command the American Armed Forces, and a Qatari whore, who cashed the checks of the government that harbored Hamas while they plotted October 7th, cannot be the chief law enforcement officer.
Hakeem Jeffries should make his members read the Monterey California police report into the congressional record. He should apply maximum pressure on the weakest Republican members who know their place in the MAGA herd is on its periphery — on the outside. There, they run against the headwind, and feel the full force of the dangers that lurk everywhere.
There are a few predictable ingredients when it comes to creating political good fortune.
The first is luck. The second is your opponent’s incompetence and overreach.
Trump is overextended, and the transition plan has collapsed into a rubble of insanity 60 days before the inauguration.
He has taken his first step backwards, and will take many more.
The zebras on the outside of the herd are the ones who are most vulnerable. In this analogy, their names are Hegseth and Bondi.
The Monterey police report established beyond a reasonable doubt that Hegseth is an epic buffoon. Truly.
He may also be a rapist.
He seems to have a problem with women. Big time.
Something broke somewhere, and this ought to be explored psychiatrically and forensically under public examination before the Senate Armed Services Committee.
According to Reuters, Trump plans to decapitate the senior leadership of the US military in a Stalin-esque purge. Guilt by association and kangaroo justice await the men and women who have spent their entire lives in preparation for immense responsibilities and leadership.
The good news is that behind them is another, and another, and another, and another, and another, and another.
On Thursday, Karoline Leavitt, Trump-Vance transition spokeswoman issued the following statement:
This report corroborates what Mr. Hegseth's attorneys have said all along: the incident was fully investigated, and no charges were filed because police found the allegations to be false. Pete Hegseth is a highly-respected Combat Veteran who will honorably serve our country when he is confirmed as the next Secretary of Defense, just like he honorably served our country on the battlefield in uniform.
Pete Hegseth should be brutally questioned about the US Navy and USMC and naval warfare theory, history, strategy and tactics.
The attitude of the Democratic opposition concerning his service in Iraq should be…wait for it…”We don’t give a f@#k.”
It doesn’t qualify him to be Secretary of Anything — let alone Secretary of Defense.
He should be derailed, mocked, humiliated, defeated and sent into a splendid exile on the Mar-a-Lago patio.
The whole lion pride should swarm the slowest zebra first — Hegseth — trip him, and then eat him.
When he’s gone and left behind as proverbial bones to be bleached by the hot sun on the Savanna, it will be time to give chase to Bondi.
She has fresh legs. Let her stretch them. She will not get far because she is running in Qatari quick sand.
I have said many times that Donald Trump Jr. is a moron and proof that nepotism is a very bad thing. It does demonstrate that Trump had some insight when he had some reluctance to bequeath his name, lest his progeny be “a loser.”
Junior has always reminded me of Uday, while Eric throws off more of a Qusay vibe. They are easy to mix up.
At any rate, they were a big problem for Saddam because, in the end, they were Saddam’s kids, and it was just going to be really hard for them to turn out okay — like Eric and Junior.
This is the point that really matters, especially if you are going to let Uday and Qusay pick the cabinet after their father buried their mother on the first hole of his golf course — after allegedly raping her years earlier.
You get the point, right?
This is all madness.
Make Pete Hegseth defend his depravity, his ethics, his unfitness and keep him pinned down. He is the top target.
Expose his profound and epic lack of knowledge, grasp of strategy, history and culture regarding the US military.
There is an old USMC saying: it is the 7 Ps.
It stands for “prior proper planning prevents piss poor performance.” This philosophy must be embraced by the Democratic Senate minority, led by the comically inept Schumer.
The US Navy and the US Army are two of the country’s oldest institutions. They are venerable. They are powerful. They will weather Trumpism if for no other reason than the NCO corps is as steeped in the traditions as is the general officers. In fact, from a lived experience perspective, more so. People who live without a North Star or a code do not comprehend those who do.
Let me tell you a story about the US Navy.
Think about this, as the alleged rapist and AAA-certified Fox News morning doofus gets ready to sink it:
This is the story of an elegant lady and her master. Her Master is a woman. She commands an American warship, a 44-gun United States Class heavy frigate, personally named by George Washington.
She was designed by an American genius from Philadelphia and built by New Englanders in a Boston shipyard. Her bow has sliced through all the Earth’s oceans, across four centuries of time.
American merchant ships and their crews were being preyed upon by the British and French Navies and looted by barbary pirates.
The young Republic was dependent on trade and commerce. The Third Congress appropriated money for the construction of six warships under the Naval Act of 1794 to protect American shipping.
The construction of the ships was spread between six states and cities. Local economies boomed around the building of the most technologically advanced machines ever constructed on the North American continent.
They were the spacecraft of their age, marvels of science, engineering and design. Though bigger than French and British frigates, they were smaller than the Capital ships of the great European naval powers. They were fast and their speed made them lethal under the command and crews of the born sailors who shaped the young United States and her Navy.
United States Ship is abbreviated as USS and precedes the name of an American Warship. What would be the names of the six ships?
It is an interesting question to ponder. Surely, the naming of these first American warships would have been imbued with meaning in 1794. We know it was not a trivial decision, and that it was made at the highest levels of government. The Secretary of the Navy submitted a list of ten names for consideration to President George Washington.
His office was as new as the country. Since there was no precedent, the founding generation was forced to make it up as they went along. John Adams had proposed a style of adornment and address for the office that would have embarrassed a European aristocrat. Washington rejected the flowery titles in favor of Mr. President.
The naming of the ships was a Presidential decision, and they offer a window into what was viewed as important, significant and meaningful in a young country not yet powerful or secure.
The first ship was named the USS United States.
One was named the USS Chesapeake, after the great Bay near Washington’s beloved Mount Vernon on the banks of the Potomac River.
Another, the USS Constellation, signified the constellation of stars on the blue corner field of the new red and white striped flag of the United States.
One was named USS President. There was only one President in the 1790s. He was the only elected Head of State in the world and his name was Washington.
King George III was curious about what a “President” would become and what Washington would do. He was astounded when he was told that his rival would transfer power voluntarily and return to Mount Vernon. The King said that if that were true then Washington would be the greatest man of his or any age.
There have been 46 American Presidents. Grover Cleveland counts for two. There have been great ones and bad ones. Honest ones and crooked ones. There have been successful ones and incompetent ones. There has only ever been one that has sought to break his promise and hold power against the will of the people. There are many names for such a person. American President has never been one of them.
Another was named USS Congress. The Congress was a co-equal branch of government that stood equally with the Article 2 and Article 3 branches of government created by the Constitution of the United States that imperfectly imagined a new nation with a new system of government into existence. The Congress was comprised of the elected Representatives of the American people.
It was unique in all the world.
There have been 117 Congresses. They have been filled with American people from our greatest thinkers, leaders, statemen and women to our most sublime fools, imbeciles, crooks, cons, racists, ne’er-do-wells, seditionists and criminals.
In the end, the United States Congress and the great Capitol Dome under which it meets is an extraordinary living achievement, a symbol of democracy and a raging hot mess.
The sixth ship is the USS Constitution. The USS Constitution endures. She survives. She has been fired upon, hit, damaged and fallen into periodic disrepair. She was forgotten, but her contribution remembered by the American people when it was retold in verse by Oliver Wendell Holmes in the 1830s.
Her hull was lined by Paul Revere, and her masts came from long leaf pine from South Carolina. She was set to be scrapped, but was saved by contributions from America’s school children in the 1920s.
Today, she sits in a quiet corner of Boston Harbor. She is the oldest floating ship in the world and the oldest warship in the US Navy. She remains in active service.
Our divided nation is at edge, in an angry hour where extremism has seized power with a seething contempt for American freedom and the Constitution.
It seems significant and worth remembering that none of those first six ships designed to protect a fragile freedom were named USS Supreme Court.
A radical court has acted in the name of the Constitution by stripping rights away from a specific category of Americans for the first time in history. It represents a type of judicial tyranny and societal engineering that is as radical and foolish as it is destabilizing.
The Constitution of 1787 was not perfect. It was far from just. It was, however, an incomparable work of genius that gave each generation of Americans a chance to create a more just society – to perfect the Union.
The American Constitution endures. It makes the United States of America a young nation and the oldest constitutional republic in the world.
Her namesake will fire a 21-gun salute on July 4th, 2026, to the United States of America in celebration of the occasion of the 250th anniversary of the independence of the United States.
She is undefeated. She is the USS Constitution.
[Steve Schmidt]
#transition#incoming#Cabinet apointees#TFG#Steve Schmidt#radical SCOTUS#corrupt SCOTUS#the US Constitution#the US Army#the US Navy
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Me, Myself, and These Guys Who Kinda Look Like Me Ch. 7
Fandom: Sanders Sides
Pairings: Thomas/The Sides
Summary: It starts with dreams. Then Thomas starts seeing the dream people in the waking world.
Thomas doesn't know how to bring it up to anybody or if he even should at this point.
AKA, Thomas has to acknowledge the six colorful characters in the room, much to their long-awaited delight.
Ao3 Link: click here
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6
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"I believe you wanted a conversation? Let's talk."
And so they do.
Rules are established to assist with boundaries, and in the days that follow, they are adjusted as they adapt.
Rule number one: Thomas's bedroom is a sacred temple. When the door is shut, no one shall utilize incorporeal states of being to trespass. Anyone may knock as needed, but it's up to Thomas if he'd like company. Likewise, if the door is open, it is understood that company is welcome.
Seems simple enough, right?
Thomas wakes up to the sound of his bedroom door creaking open. He scrubs the sleep from his eyes, peering at the alarm clock to see he's been asleep all of three hours.
"Whass it?" Thomas mumbles and pushes up clumsily. He thinks something must be wrong, or that he must not have heard a knock. Maybe he's dreaming. Wouldn't be the first time that he thought he woke up in a dream.
The door practically slams closed.
"Eh?"
Is he...being spied on? What did they want? Who was it? Why did they have to wake him? Can he lay back down and go to sleep? Wow, that was loud. And rude. Or something's wrong. What's wrong? Was he having a nightmare? He thinks he was having a nightmare. There was a math test involved. Ew.
The door opens again, wider this time. Virgil hovers in the doorway, shoulders hiked up to his ears and shame-faced.
"I am so sorry," he blurts out. "I didn't mean to do that. Or wake you. I'll go."
"No, no, what's wrong?" Thomas calls back before the door can close. Sleep dust cakes his eyes, but he's got half a brain functioning. He can tell something's off.
"It's stupid," Virgil deflects, as if that is a compelling defense.
"S'not stupid. What's up, buttercup?"
Wow, Thomas really is only half awake. The only reason his head hasn't reacquainted itself with his pillow is because of his propped-up arm. His eyes don't get the memo. They droop down, closed.
Virgil doesn't answer.
Huh.
Thomas has a sneaking suspicion he'll have to open his eyes again.
"Virge?"
"I, uh, I was just checking on you. In case anyone was trying to break in. Or if you had fallen. Or if there was a gas leak. There could be a gas leak right now. You never know, ya know?"
"...eh?"
"Anyway, I'm dumb, go back to sleep dude. Sorry."
And the door shuts once more, more mindful this time.
If it had just been Virgil, Thomas thinks he could have puzzled through it. Clearly Virgil is the anxious sort. After the fire incident, Virgil has insisted on being present whenever cooking is involved. Even if he's not the one cooking, he wants to watch like a hawk. It's like his own personal lifeguard, but on land. In his house. This is a perfect analogy.
Thomas can hella relate to having anxiety. Most people, when they meet Thomas, mistake him for being an extrovert. And that can be an exhausting image to keep up, but Thomas is an actor after all. Regardless, he wants to cut Virgil some slack. With the installment of the new rules, he's having trouble adjusting, and that's okay. It's all part of the learning process.
Virgil confides that sometimes he would check on Thomas in the middle of the night (or day, curse Thomas's sleeping habits) to soothe his random bursts of paranoia. Thomas sympathizes, he does. If something happens to Thomas and he dies, what happens to the dream people? Where do they go?
It's not just Virgil though. Roman and Remus keep forgetting about the knocking rule.
Thomas dives headfirst back into work the first chance he gets. He sits at his desk in his bedroom, screen displaying a script. It's the final countdown so to speak, and Thomas is delaying the inevitable because the perfectionist in him tells him it's not good enough. There's something missing. It could be better. It can always be better.
"You should throw in a 'Mean Girls' reference there at the end."
Thomas glances towards the bottom of the script. He tilts his head. "Yeah, you're right, I could wear a pink shirt."
"Exactly."
It takes a moment, but Thomas frowns and looks to his right where Roman is reading the script happily over his shoulder.
"I thought I had my door closed..."
The faint smile on Roman's face freezes. His body tenses so hard Thomas can almost feel it vicariously. "Uh...yeaaah."
"Roman."
"...I may have forgotten you can see us."
"..."
"...how mad are you?"
Thomas isn't mad. He understands that it will take time. For years they've lived a certain way. He doesn't expect things to change overnight. However, this has to be corrected. In order to do that, Thomas has to be firm in the boundaries he's set.
Thomas takes one look at Roman's obvious dejection and caves hard.
"Do you want to help me edit the rest?" he asks.
Enforcing boundaries is difficult, okay?! Really, he has no one to blame but himself. He's a sucker. A big softie sucker.
When he discusses this with Logan, the man comforts him by parsing out the reasons behind why he struggles to say no.
"Give me an example," Logan instructs.
"Well, just last night I was laying in bed trying to go to sleep... okay I might have been scrolling on my phone. But anyway! I was in bed, and then the closet door opened."
"Remus?"
"Remus."
"He has a fascination with closets that baffles me beyond comprehension."
"I've noticed. It was kinda spooky at first, which I think was the point. But he ended up coming out and started talking to me."
"Was that all? Sorry, that sounded dismissive, let me rephrase. Is that the only actions he took?"
"Uh...pretty much? He sat beside my bed on the floor and just talked about random things. Like dolphins and Catholicism."
"He has a rather stream of consciousness mentality to the way he jumps from one topic to the other. I believe he only wished to engage you in conversation, albeit at an inopportune time."
"Yeah..."
"Based on the context of this conversation, I guess that you allowed that conversation to continue without interruption?"
Thomas did. He had put down his phone and it invigorated Remus to have Thomas's undivided attention. It's like he'd been saving up years' worth of ideas for this moment.
And Thomas... Thomas didn't want to take that away from him.
"Yeah, I did," Thomas admits meekly, as if he'd been in the wrong. Was it so wrong of him?
Janus sweeps by them on his way to peruse Thomas's book collection. Thomas would think it's an excuse to eavesdrop if Janus hadn't been spending the past few days with his nose in a book. At the very least, he may be taking his sweet time going about it, thumbing through the options.
Janus does indeed reveal he's been listening by commenting, "You're not going to offend him if you tell him to go away, if that's what you're worried about."
"That's not..." Thomas rubs his knuckles together. He squints his eyes as if that will reveal his feelings better. "I don't want to tell anyone to go away."
Janus shrugs and doesn't say anything further. His silence rattles Thomas more than what he could say. It leaves him thinking on it more.
Logan taps at his chin and Thomas waits for him to make sense of this for him. "Perhaps not to go away then. If it is reframed more politely as you saying, 'I am interested in this topic, but as I am busy at the moment, could we discuss this at a later time?' Would that be preferential?"
Still no. Thomas shakes his head.
"What do you believe would happen if you did say something along those lines?"
Thomas imagines it. He imagines cutting off Remus. How it would kill the light in his eyes. He thinks of pushing Roman out of his room. How he'd feel betrayed after Thomas promised to entertain his dreams. He pictures Virgil at his door, Thomas snapping at him to leave him alone. How Virgil would think he doesn't appreciate him.
"I don't want to make them feel bad," Thomas says at length. "And I don't want them to hate me."
Logan places a hand on his shoulder. It's solid and grounding, and for a moment Logan is almost distracted by the contact but pushes through it.
"Remember what we discussed the other day? And how Virgil verbalized a similar fear? That he was afraid you would hate us? You are jumping to a false conclusion and imagining the worst-case scenario. This is known as catastrophizing."
"Besides that," Janus adds, comparing two books in his hands, "if voicing what makes you uncomfortable makes someone upset, then they obviously only care about their own self-interests."
Logan nods in agreement. "For relationships to succeed, communication must take place in some form. If you struggle to verbalize your needs, I would like to propose an alternative."
The proposal is Thomas's stuffed bear Benjamin.
It's wonderfully simple, if a little silly. Whenever one of them has forgotten themselves and phase through a door or wall they should not have, Thomas hands them the bear. It's a wordless gesture that says, "I see you, I'm not mad at you, this is just a reminder." Surprisingly, everyone is supportive of the idea.
Maybe a little too supportive. They are so eager to not overstep into Thomas's life that they frequently overcompensate. As Benjamin becomes an accepted part of Thomas expressing his need for space, Thomas picks up on how much the others are reluctant to voice their need for space. Or their wants in general.
"You guys can come to me if you need anything," Thomas had told them during their heart-to-heart the other day. "If there's anything I can do for you, just let me know."
They said sure.
They didn't lie. They're just afraid.
The most Thomas has gotten out of them is Logan and Roman expressing interest in aiding Thomas with meal prep. It's okay now and then, but Thomas makes it clear that it's not necessary and that he absolutely should still be responsible in making his own meals occasionally or order takeout. Logan sketches out a weekly schedule to assist in everyone's expectations, and Roman lists all of the recipes he would like to try.
It's not that fair though. It's for Thomas. The others can't exactly eat.
Or....can they?
"I know you guys don't need to, but have you tried eating?" Thomas asks them. They're sitting at the dining table, a notebook between them.
"Many a time," Roman says. "Every time you eat cookies, Patton tries to steal some. And don't get me started on when you bring donuts home. Logan-"
Logan butts in, "Ahem, Thomas doesn't need that many details, thank you Roman," He fidgets with the pen in his hands, tapping it against the wired spirals of the notebook.
Roman jerks his head in Logan's direction while giving Thomas a look that screams Logan would very much like to try a donut.
Thomas holds back a grin. "But what about lately? Since you guys can touch things better now."
Logan shares a glance with Roman. "There's no need. We don't feel hunger. However..."
"Is it possible?" Roman ties into his thoughts.
"To what end? Do we have a working digestive tract? Could the food be converted to energy? Or would it phase through us at a certain point?"
"There's only one way to find out."
Thomas gets up to scrounge around his kitchen. He thinks he should really go grocery shopping soon; he's running low on quick snacks. He settles for some pretzel sticks and returns to the table.
"Who wants to go first?" he asks.
Logan gestures to the bag for Roman, showing he would rather observe. Roman plucks the pretzel bag from Thomas's hands and stares at the packaging curiously. Cautiously, he removes the clamp sealing it closed and pulls out a stick.
"Can you smell it?" Logan asks.
Roman's face pinches in minor disgust. "Why would I smell it? I'm supposed to taste it, Sub-astute Teacher."
"Smell is entwined with the ability to taste. Without it, perception of flavors would be extremely limited."
"Oh, well," Roman says and gives the stick a whiff. Then he gives it a bigger whiff.
"Anything?"
"I guess? It's different. I don't think pretzel sticks have a strong smell anyway, do they?"
"Go ahead and try it."
Roman nibbles the stick. They observe his jaw movements and listen to the muffled crunching of his teeth. He chews mechanically, much longer than anyone would need to. His brows raise just about to his hairline as he swallows.
"It's salty!" he announces excitedly. "I hate it! I can taste it! And I hate it!"
Roman tosses the rest of the stick in his mouth and plunders into the bag for more. Thomas and Logan watch incredulously as he polishes off the whole bag. Roman never stops telling them about how horrible they taste. He finishes the bag and smacks his mouth.
"Ugh, it's so dry!"
Thomas wordlessly retrieves Roman a cup of juice. Roman gleefully downs the glass in one go.
"That's so much better! What is this? It's so sweet!"
"Apple juice?"
"I love apple juice! Logan! I love apple juice!"
"Yes, I have gathered."
"I must tell all of my friends about this!"
That evening, they gather round the kitchen with everyone to taste test everything in Thomas's fridge and cabinets. If Thomas needed to go grocery shopping before, he certainly needs to after this. They have no limits to their stomach capacities. Patton eats a giant stack of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and claims he feels no fuller for the effort. Virgil scarfs down an entire tub of rocky road ice cream with such feral intensity that he's left abashed after.
"It was okay, I guess," Virgil says too nonchalantly.
"Who let this raccoon in here?" Janus comments, to which Virgil hisses.
"If we can eat things now, does that mean we'll need to shit?" Remus questions. He's found the pickle jar and is sharing with Logan. They seem to enjoy salty/sour flavors more. "Because then Virgil's gonna have the shits later."
"That was an intolerable amount of lactose," Logan agrees.
Roman whines in protest through a mouth full of pizza, "Must you speak of such crass things while we're eating?"
"It's not like we're real humans," Virgil says, but looks doubtfully at the empty ice cream container while holding his tummy.
Janus has discovered the beauty of wine and has been sipping religiously at a glass. "Real enough to eat."
"Are you feeling the effects of the alcohol?" Logan pauses to wonder.
"I don't think so, but I'm nothing if not determined."
"Spitters are quitters," Remus says, finding some kind of relevance with that train of thought to the current context. When Virgil smirks and says something about professionals gargling, Roman screeches like a banshee. Thomas thinks that is the point of Virgil's interference. He shares a fist bump with Remus.
"Anyway, back to our shit talking," Remus says peppily. Roman's face turns an impressive shade of red.
Janus snickers into his glass, "Oh I am here for shit talking. Who are we shit talking about?"
"Your mom!"
"How very original, Remus."
"Is it okay if I eat the rest of this peanut butter?" Patton asks Thomas. There's not much left in the jar anyway.
Thomas smiles. "Go for it, buddy."
Patton does a happy little shuffle dance and goes to town. The others go back to questioning if they will need to start using the bathroom now. Thomas asks what Patton thinks, since they're standing by each other and he hasn't been talking much.
Patton nods slowly, sagely. "Everybody poops."
As much as Roman is hilariously uncomfortable with the topic, everyone does share a curiosity to the limits of their corporealness. For the rest of the evening, they keep checking in with each other. "Need to poop yet?" "No, you?" "Nah, need to pee?" "Nah, but how would we know?" "It'd be instinctive." "You're instinctive." "Remus, please desist."
Thomas can confidentially say that he's never been a part of a more bizarre conversational topic.
For those at home wondering, none of them ever felt the urge to go. They are left to surmise that the food and drinks they ingest are entirely utilized with no leftover waste. Furthermore, alcohol has no affect, much to Janus's dismay. It doesn't stop him from trying.
Beyond food, Thomas tries to encourage the others to ask him for things they want. Something as simple as watching a movie is a challenge. If they sit down together to pick a movie, it always comes back to what does Thomas want to watch. And even when Thomas isn't watching TV or doing anything with his electronics, they will jump up from them as if electrocuted and ask him if he'd like the TV or computer.
Patton's the worst about it. Thomas nearly felt bad about telling him, "No, I'm good, you can keep watching whatever." It's like he can't believe he isn't monopolizing Thomas's belongings. So they get into "nice-offs" where they're trying to be courteous to each other. "No, you can." "No, you, I insist!" That sort of thing. There's an edge of panic to Patton when he does this.
If only this were as easy as handing him a stuffed bear.
After a few times, Thomas can't stand to see him this way and finally grabs the offered tv remote out of his hands. The brief relief that washes over Patton is replaced by confusion when Thomas sets the remote on the coffee table. Then confusion transforms into astonishment as Thomas grabs one of his hands in both of his.
"Patton, you're okay," Thomas tells him. "You're allowed to enjoy yourself. I don't always need the tv, and whenever I do want it, I promise I'll let you know."
Patton stares so hard at their joined hands that Thomas wonders if he can hear him. They haven't held hands since that day Patton cried. Haven't touched either. Thomas suspects...no, he knows it's a sore subject. He knows with Patton, and most of the others, maybe all of them? They've lacked human touch for so long that they don't know what to do with themselves whenever they receive it. They must crave it. Hell, Janus was brought to tears because Thomas touched his face.
It's another process though, another adjustment. It's a lot of responsibility placed on Thomas for these people he's just starting to know. He likes them, he does. He's caught off guard sometimes by how much he enjoys their company, the sparks they bring to his life as he learns more about them. It's not a bad thing by any means.
Thomas holds Patton's hand and hopes this is a good step. He caresses the top of Patton's hand with a thumb, and Patton's eyes flick, watching the movement.
"You're the priority though," Patton says softly, at a loss.
Thomas's heart breaks for them.
He leads Patton by the hand back to the couch. They sit together and Thomas gently nudges the remote into Patton's hand that he isn't holding.
"Sometimes, maybe. But right now? It's your time. What do you want to watch?"
With a subdued joy that Thomas hopes one day will have all the strength of a hurricane, Patton clicks through the apps and turns on 'Steven Universe'. Thomas sticks with him to watch. He's already seen it, but he'll watch it again any day. Plus, he doesn't want to take his hand away when Patton clutches so tightly.
They progress in paces of patience. Soon, Thomas will need to jump fully back into work now that he's recovered from his sickness. He's texted his team and he'll be meeting with them tomorrow.
The big question is, will his new roommates be able to interact with them?
"We should engage in preliminary testing," Logan suggests.
Roman cheers, "I concur! Why wait for tomorrow what you could do today?"
"Famous last words," Virgil quips.
"Then what do you suggest, Negative Nancy?"
"Why even try? If you never try, then you can never fail. If you never fail, then you won't be disappointed."
"Technically, he's not wrong," Logan admits.
"You're agreeing with him?!"
"I didn't say that. I am no defeatist. I don't fear failure. Indeed, I feel no sense of fear whatsoever."
"God I wish that were me," Thomas bemoans his introverted existence.
"How about I streak naked down the street?" Remus suggests. "That'll get some looks!"
Logan is not the only one who doesn't possess a sense of fear, apparently.
There's enough interest amongst the group to go forward with the testing today. Patton thanks Remus for his contribution but tries to let him down gently and say maybe another time. Roman supplies fanciful ideas of vigilante fighting. Even if bad guys can't see them, they can pretend Thomas has telekinesis powers and make him look cool by floating things at the enemy. Patton also thanks Roman for his contributions but tries to let him down gently as well.
"How about shopping?" Janus says. "I'm always a hoe for a shopping spree. Especially when it's someone else's money that's being spent."
"Thomas isn't some cash cow," Virgil reminds him with narrowed eyes.
"No, don't be silly, he's a cash man."
Before they can get into it, Thomas chimes in, "Sure, I can spare a bit. Where would you guys like to go?"
Predictably, Remus says a sex shop. For the first time, Thomas can kinda see how long-term exposure might render the others a little dismissive towards him. But it is a valid option! Thomas is a grown man, with grown man needs. He's just...not gonna be going to an adult store with people he just became friends with. That's like, level fifty in terms of friendship.
"How about a grocery store?" Logan says. "It would be a practical way to spend your money."
"That's his way of saying he wants more Crofters jam," Virgil translates. Logan doesn't spare him a glance and simply mutters, "Falsehood."
Thomas feels in a teasing mood, so he asks Virgil, "And what about you?"
"Me?" Virgil lifts a singular eyebrow. It's a thinner brow than Thomas's, as if he shapes them. Thomas can imagine him easily with an eyebrow piercing. It'd go great with his aesthetic.
Why is he thinking so much about Virgil's eyebrows?
Thomas inwardly shakes himself and plasters a smirk on his face. "Yeah, you. Do you want some more ice cream?"
Virgil gives a mixture of a scoff and a cough. He shoves his hands in his pockets. "Spend your money however you want, Sanders."
"And that's Virgil's way of saying yes, he would love more ice cream," Janus translates.
Patton raises a hand. "Can we get more peanut butter?"
"And pickles?" Remus asks.
"Oh, how about pizza!" Roman says.
"Sure, anything you guys want," Thomas smiles, unable to hold himself back from wanting to indulge them.
Thomas hops in his car and drives to his local Walmart. Logan rides shotgun while Roman, Remus, and Patton squish together in the backseat. It's a twelve-minute ride that the three backseat passengers insist must be enjoyed with all the enthusiasm of an eight-hour road trip. They play car games to pass the time, and Thomas plays the radio for background noise. Logan points out a traffic light in disrepair before Thomas notices and reminds him to treat the intersection as a four-way stop.
They reach Walmart and it's not as dreadfully busy as it could be, but it's still Walmart. Thomas exits the car and trudges up to the store like a man going to war.
It takes him a bit to realize that the others have suddenly gone missing. Surrounded by strangers after spending over a week at home is a bit of a slap to the senses. Thomas is more troubled with securing a shopping cart and avoiding bumping into anyone. He surveys the store and debates where to start before heading towards the very back of the grocery section, intending to work his way up.
By the time he's grabbing a pack of butter, Thomas notices the immediate quiet. There's a chill that's not coming from the cooler beside him. He cranes his neck around to look over the buzzing masses. People pass this way and that. A lady with five kids getting milk. An old man perusing the discount baked goods rack. A couple heading towards the deli counter. More and more inconsequential bodies flit across his vision. And in the middle of the aisle, as if the rest of the world falls away and his eyes are drawn to him, there stands Virgil.
He stands alone, the brightness of his purple patches standing out amongst the crowd. Calmly, he watches people pass by him. No one looks his way, not even once. A teenager passes right through him on her way to catch up with her parents. Virgil's lips twitch up and he turns to meet Thomas's gaze.
Thomas is held captive in the moment. Virgil looks at him, and there's no guessing what's on his mind. Thomas knows. He knows it in his heart.
Virgil shrugs helplessly. They gave it a shot. This changes nothing. He'll tell himself he doesn't want to be perceived anyway while ignoring that little piece inside that pleads otherwise. That piece that's been waiting for so long for someone to just look and notice and not act like he isn't there, like he doesn't exist.
It's a lonely thing to watch the world go by and be told that you can't partake.
As much as it hurts, it's okay, because Thomas at least sees him for who he is. It's enough.
Yet again, Thomas thinks they deserve so much more.
***
The ride back to his apartment is significantly less noisy. Thomas catches glimpses of Virgil and Janus in the rearview mirror sitting in the backseat, neither talking, both looking out their respective windows. They disappear once Thomas parks the car, and Patton and Logan join him while he empties the trunk of its groceries. They're also far too quiet for comfort as they help carry bags inside.
The next day rolls by, Thomas meets with his team, and Roman lingers in the background, an unseen guest. Thomas can see his wistful smile as he watches Thomas interact with his friends. There's longing there to be included. When no one's looking, Thomas offers him a wave. It's enough of an acknowledgement that Roman perks up and swings his feet a bit where he sits on a table.
The meeting goes well. They've brainstormed some future video ideas and have a shooting schedule mapped out. Best of all, no one looks at Thomas like he's a walking hazard. They seem to be relieved that he's recovered and well rested and more responsive than he's been in a long time. Thomas returns home afterwards, and life goes on.
There's not much in the way of testing discussed after that, for a while at least. The previous lack of success is disheartening, and really though, what else is there to test? They are real people to Thomas only.
And Thomas would be a liar if he doesn't admit that he occasionally speculates if this makes him clinically insane. As real as they are to him, no one else can see or interact with them. Doesn't that check the boxes on a lot of psych evaluation tests?
If it's a form of insanity, it's a relatively mild one in terms of negative impact. It could be a lot worse. He's sure Logan could grant him some neat facts to put it all in perspective. That would involve telling Logan about his concerns revolving whether they are real or not. He doesn't want him to think he's invalidating his existence.
Isn't he though? By just questioning this, isn't there a part of his mind that still can't wrap around this? What more can he do to prove to himself that they truly exist?
Without conversing to the others about it, Thomas discreetly slips out his phone and snaps a picture of Remus. He's just sitting on the living room floor, swaying back and forth absent-mindedly. You can see the corner of the entertainment center in the picture. It's not a remarkable picture by any means and doesn't have the best lighting, but Remus brings a sense of peculiarity with his dark prince outfit.
The picture is taken with none the wiser. Thomas purses his lips and stares at his phone screen. He taps his fingers on the back of the case.
Remus's figure never fades. It's definitely a picture of him. Now what does he do with it?
He can send it to someone. Just to see if they can see an image of the others. If not in person, maybe they can be viewed through technological means? But who should he send it to? Not his brothers. Or his parents. Hmm, he can't think of a friend he can send it to without garnering a series of questions for an explanation. Well, he can possibly play it off. But what if he can't?
He scrolls through his contact list before spying his godson's name. Gavin sends him random stuff all the time. Thomas can just tell him it's a meme trend or something.
Trying not to overthink it, Thomas sends the pic along with a question, What do you see in this picture?
A few very nail-biting minutes later, Gavin responds. Is that ur house?
That isn't...the worst response.
Yeah lol
Ur tv cord? Idk is something I'm missing?
Yeah, the invisible man. You can't see him?
Nah, he invisible.
Darn, I told him to turn off that setting before I took the pic. Maybe next time.
Gavin sends back a laughing emoji.
That settles that. If Gavin could see Remus, he would have said something about his outfit or ask who he is or why he's at Thomas's apartment. The kid asks a lot of questions, and to be fair, Remus is very questionable in general.
Thomas doesn't let the others know of his discovery. What they don't know can't hurt them, right?
It turns out to be truer than Thomas can imagine. Curiosity killed the cat. Ignorance is bliss. Be careful what you wish for.
While no one has spoken of the discoveries from the Walmart outing, it doesn't mean it hasn't been on their minds. In fact, Logan in particular has taken notes to record the aspects of their existence. He approaches Thomas and shows him some of his theories and hypothesis.
"I would like to attempt a new test, if you would be so inclined," Logan says, and while he holds his posture well, Thomas senses an underlying nervousness to him.
Thomas doesn't want to deny him this, not when they've struggled with learning how to reach out to him.
"What do you have in mind?" Thomas asks.
They relocate to the backyard. Everyone else joins them. They probably would have anyway, but Logan specifically requests that everyone convene together.
"Are we finally running into oncoming traffic?" Remus asks excitedly, bouncing on his heels.
"Not today, Remus. I have devised an experiment to test the boundaries of our physical attachment to Thomas. Prior to Thomas's illness, we could not stray beyond roughly eighty feet from Thomas. When arriving to this distance, we experience a tethering sensation, as if we cannot walk any further. With the increase to our corporeal prowess, I suggest we ascertain whether this distance remains or if it has increased."
"So you just want us to go for a walk?" Patton asks.
"Oh, why didn't you just say that, Isaac Nerdton?" Roman scoffs.
Logan adjusts his glasses. "Because I wanted all parties to know precisely what– okay, fine. We are going for a walk. But!" He claps his hands to accentuate his point. "This will be regulated so that we can account for all variables. I suggest we test one subject at a time to calculate if there are any differences between distance amongst us."
Thomas raises his hand and waits for Logan to call on him. "So what do I do?"
"You just stand there."
"Cool, I can do that. I'm good at standing."
"Who's gonna go first?" Virgil asks. He shifts his gaze between everyone to see if someone will volunteer.
Patton shrugs. "I could, I guess?"
"What would this prove anyway?" Janus comments, snide in the way he checks his nails through his glove. It would be a funny image if he didn't sound genuinely dismissive of the whole affair. "This won't change anything. Even if we miraculously can wander off to new horizons, Thomas is still the only person who can see us."
"We could break into people's houses and steal their stuff," Remus says.
"Let's not take other people's things," Patton says. "We wouldn't want people to come steal from Thomas, would we? It's not right."
"Morality only matters to those who have a place in society. Last I checked, we don't."
Patton deflates and looks at Janus with a pained expression. "I think it still matters how you treat people..."
"Good for you," Janus says, sickly sweet.
Virgil steps between the two of them. "Okay, what crawled in your ass and died?"
"Cynicism? Disillusionment? A reality check? Take your pick."
Virgil growls and looks at Logan. "You know what? I'll go."
"Wait, wait, let's not start things off angry," Thomas urges. Virgil has begun walking, so Thomas skitters up behind him, grasping on to his jacket. Virgil halts but doesn't turn around.
"This is merely for educational purposes. I did not expect this to warrant a strong emotional reaction."
Roman claps a hand on Logan's shoulder. "Not your fault, Specs. Someone must have pissed in Janus's cheerios this morning."
Janus crosses his arms and puts on an unaffected tone, "Do whatever you wish. Don't let me stop you."
Thomas shares a look with Logan. "I'd like to go through with the test because it's important to Logan. Whether what we discover is any different than what you guys are used to, it doesn't matter. What matters is that it's important to Logan to find out."
There's a brief softening of the eyes behind Logan's glasses. He shuffles quickly with his notebook and pen and then unceremoniously dumps them into Roman's arms.
Roman sputters, "What–?"
"I'll do it," Logan announces. "After all, this is my hypothesis. I will take the initiative and be the first to go."
Logan gestures for Thomas to step aside to the "starting point". Thomas lets go of Virgil hesitantly, but Virgil doesn't protest or turn to look. Thomas shuffles over to the side in the grass and holds still while Logan stands beside him.
"I will count my steps as I go along to measure the distance. Once I reach a point I can no longer move forward, I'll return."
"Okay, easy peasy," Thomas says with false cheer.
Janus doesn't debate any more. Patton offers no assurances. Remus doesn't interrupt. Roman holds the notebook stiffly. And Virgil's head only moves as Logan walks by him. He watches as Logan treks across the grass behind the apartment complex.
Logan keeps his head bowed, watching his steps with careful attentiveness. He crosses the road and carries on through more grass. He rapidly approaches the tree line that begins there on the other side.
"Anyone wanna make bets?" Remus asks. The suggestion falls on deaf ears, but Patton does come over to stand beside him and hold his hand. It must not be a frequent occurrence because Remus glances down at him in surprise but doesn't discourage it.
For Thomas's part, his eyes are glued to Logan's back. His form is getting smaller, more distant.
"That's more than eighty feet," Virgil murmurs, loud in the quiet. His hand scratches at his neck, and when that doesn't seem to do anything for him, he shakes out his hands. Then he shakes out his hands again.
Roman turns to gauge Virgil. He frowns at what he sees, though Thomas can't see Virgil's face from this angle. "You good, Virge?"
"I don't like this," Virgil admits. His foot begins tapping a mad dance into the ground.
"I don't either," Patton drones, morose. Perhaps he's sensitive from Janus's remarks.
Logan treads into the woods. They can see his black polo and blue jeans through the spindly tree trunks. At first, he's there, but quickly he's swallowed into the vegetation.
Virgil runs his fingers through his hair and blows out a stream of air. "What if he gets lost?"
Roman laughs, "Get lost? He's going in a straight line, Virge."
"What if something happens to him? What if– what if– I don't like this."
"I thought you were on board with this."
Virgil doesn't answer. He starts pacing back and forth, and Thomas can see his expression now in his peripheral. His brows are knotted, eyes too wide. His pacing becomes erratic.
"Hey, hey, don't do that. You're just gonna work yourself up," Roman calls to him, coming over to stop him. Virgil tries to walk around him, but Roman blocks his path.
"Why didn't one of us go with him? We should have gone with him!"
"Virgil, please, it'll be alright. Pat, may I have an emergency dose of positivity over here?"
"I don't like this," Patton repeats, and his tone is even more dejected. He holds onto Remus's arm with both hands. He leans into him, shaking at the arm insistently. "I don't like this."
"...Patton?" Remus hums in confusion. He looks around to the others to see if they're witnessing how close to crying Patton seems, but Thomas's eyes can't leave the tree line where Logan vanished.
"We have to go get him. Please, we have to–"
"Stormcloud, please," Roman soothes, and Virgil clings to the front of his tunic like a drowning man. His breaths are coming shorter and shorter, his words jumbling amongst the gasps. Roman stands there, dumbfounded. "Uh, Remus?"
"Kinda busy with Pat," Remus says, watching as Patton unravels. Tears cascade down his face and the first whimper of a sob comes out. "Okay, what the fuck is going on?"
"He's gonna die, he's gonna die-" Virgil rants over and over and he launches into a full-blown panic attack. "Janus, Janus, help!"
"Please!" Patton wails and falls to his knees. Remus barely manages to catch him and guide him down safely.
Thomas's feet move without intention. He takes one heavy step, then another, movements sluggish and wooden.
Janus is there suddenly, hand at his elbow to stop his forward momentum. Thomas is barely conscious of the peering eyes, one human and one snake. Janus glances between a hysterical Virgil and a sobbing Patton and turns to Thomas.
"Thomas, can you hear me?" he asks.
Thomas can, but it's like he's under water. He tries to step forward again, but Janus won't let him. Thomas feels the resistance as if steel cables are latching onto him with grappling hooks. Serrated edges sink into his flesh. No, no, it's not from outside. It's inside. There's a pull inside him, and it tugs.
"Janus!" Virgil begs.
"Please!" Patton cries.
"What the hell is wrong with them?!"
"I don't know! It's not like this has ever happened before!"
"Janus, what is Thomas doing?"
The words drift over Thomas, like seafoam floating by in a vast sea. There are more important matters to attend, like how he can't see Logan. If Logan is gone, then that means–
"Thomas, listen to me," someone says, and there are hands cupping his face. Thomas can't feel them, yet he knows they're there. "You have to shut this down. You have to stop this. Now."
But Logan is gone. He's gone, and Thomas is left bereft without him. The earth beneath his feet tremors, and the sky splits open in a downpour. The sun will fall and set the world ablaze. And Thomas feels the ache building up in his chest with mind-numbing certainty.
"Thomas!" the voice yells at him, hands shaking him. Thomas looks up into a face that he knows. He knows that face. He knows, he knows, he knows. How could he not? That's why it's so familiar. Why couldn't he see it before?
"I'm sorry," Thomas whispers.
His chest splinters in agony. Fear bleeds out abundant. Grief ravages his heart.
Thomas falls to the ground screaming.
#sanders sides#thomas sanders#virgil sanders#roman sanders#remus sanders#patton sanders#janus sanders#logan sanders#writing#fanfiction#me myself and these guys who kinda look like me#angst#hurt/comfort#panic attacks#comedy#humor#everyone needs a hug
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Evan Urquhart at Assigned Media:
A shakeup at two major news outlets in the US would bodes poorly for Americans interested in factual, responsible coverage of issues relating to the trans community in the mainstream press. Two British men associated with anti-trans culture war publications will take top jobs in US media, according to news reports. In a hurried announcement memo that went out to Washington Post staff on June 2, publisher William Lewis announced that Robert Winnett of the conservative Daily Telegraph/Sunday Telegraph newspaper would take over leadership of the Washington Post’s core newsroom after the election, following the abrupt resignation of Suzy Buzbee, the previous editor-in-chief. Then, on June 4, Daily Beast CEO Ben Sherwood announced the replacement of editor-in-chief Tracy Connor with Hugh Dougherty, formerly of the New York Post.
Anti-trans bias is ubiquitous throughout print journalism in the UK, so the installation of two British editors would be of note regardless of which publications they’d previously helmed. However, in a news environment flooded with false, malicious, and misleading stories demonizing transgender people in the UK, the Telegraph may be second only to the Daily Mail in its obsessive focus on pushing an anti-trans culture war. Already, on Wednesday morning, the Telegraph has published 10 articles and opinion columns, all negative, relating to the trans community this week.
The New York Post, a right-leaning tabloid, is little better, though its obsession with trans issues has cooled somewhat from a peak last year). [...] These sorts of extremely misleading stories have largely been confined to the right-wing press in the United States, except in the case of the New York Times, the one mainstream US newspaper that has repeatedly found creative ways to distort news stories and mislead readers in news reporting relating to gender-affirming care. However, with the installation of Winnett and Dougherty, two outlets whose reporting has remained consistent and objective (though not universally friendly) on trans issues are being helmed by editors connected to two of the worst purveyors of transphobic moral panic in the UK and the US. There’s no sugarcoating it, this does not look good for trans people, or for anyone who believes that journalism should first and foremost be about informing the audience and presenting the truth.
Analogizing to the situation at the New York Times, it has long been surmised that the anti-trans bent the paper took starting roughly in 2022 has been driven by the desire of publisher A. G. Sulzberger, who pressed the NYT to court more readers with right-wing views.
Having right-wing editors-in-chief take charge of the Washington Post and The Daily Beast is a bad omen for trans rights coverage, as both those outlets tend to mostly cover the issue in a respectful way.
#Transgender#Transgender Rights#Transphobia#The Daily Beast#Washington Post#New York Times#The Telegraph#Sunday Telegraph#New York Post#Conservative Media Apparatus#Anti Trans Extremism#Ben Sherwood#Suzy Buzbee#Robert Winnett#Hugh Dougherty#A.G. Sulzberger
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This brings us to another characteristic trait of Yoshizawa: the sheer creativity represented not just in form, but in material. SHAFT’s most visually radical days, represented by the likes of Oishi himself, are behind them… but Yoshizawa never got that memo, because the more leeway she’s been granted, the more she has emphasized live-action footage and unconventional analog materials. For one, Yoshizawa often leans on the inherent link between time and tangible elements. As something that physically exists, those real materials evoke the passage of time in a more direct way than intangible animation could—hence her usage of time-lapses and seasonally coded live-action reels, analog drawings, paper cutouts, and so on.
new article from Sakugabooru about the production of Off & Monster Season! goes into the history of the anime and discusses what makes Yoshizawa unique as a director for this series. it's long, and well worth a read, as they go into quite some depth about what makes this new season stand out so much
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Not Everyone Got The Memo
Ruby: Oh! I get it! The right analog stick acts like my camera and shows me where I'm looking, right?
Yang: Yup! That's right!
Jaune: WHAT THE FUCK IS AN ANALOG STICK?! WHAT IS GOING ON?!
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Haylor makes me so sad because she wrecked him… but she did so because he never realize she was actually as in if not more in love as he was. He couldn’t see a reality where he had her heart… he idolized her, true, but he probs also still was grasping with his own fame, and his own value as a person. In what universe would someone like her, older, wiser, and so pretty and famous would be so in love with him.
Their timing was the worst.
And yet also… is that a surprise. That he didn’t got the memo? Seeing all the reactions even from some haylors after hearing the vault songs were like wow, guess she really did love him…. For years there was an agreement of how much of an impact she had on him, but not as much of the impact he had on her… and it just breaks my heart when I think about it
i know. i knew that it meant something to her, and i said that for years. but i did always think that this hit him harder because it was his first love. but the truth is it fucking smashed and destroyed her, she was fucking broken. if you hold onto someone for years, and the hope that they'll get their shit together and love you the way you need, when they don't, it's going to crush you.
and yeah, it makes sense but that doesn't make it hurt less. and it wasn't all him and his not knowing how to deal with his fame, again, she was not a strong communicator either. so they both just couldn't deal right. and it ended up hurting them both so hard and bad and fucked them up for years.
i kinda think there's something to be said there that sums up to "ouch."
this story is tragic and beautiful and sad, and also gives you whiplash and spins you around confused about where you are and what just happened. her analogy to wonderland is perfect, I think.
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Lookism Chapter 435 Memes/Thoughts I Have:
(SPOILERS !!! I don’t own any of the Lookism panels and the translations. Only the memes that I made.)
Not much happened here, so Imma keep this short and simple.
Nah mf, you lied.
Ohhhh shit, the return of Zack 2.5!!! 😳 (2.5 because Zack got a glow-up and got stronger. So that’s his 2.0. Plus, Kwak Jihan is like, HALF of Zack here. 2nd half is Gun.) The “Kya~” 💀 AND OFC DANIEL WOULD PULL IT OFF. HE ISN’T ONE OF YOUR SIDE-CHICK LACKIES BRO. 😭
Um… because he can? Why? Is Jinyoung your side hoe? Like… why are you all over his di-
Goddamn, that bite mark tho and those scars on his chest. Can I just…
“Lord” ? Oh “Lord”, I knew he had some type of praising kink- 💀💀💀💀
You already know that guys who drink makgeolli like this are actual freaks. Like… it’s obvious. 💀 Bruh I really wanna try makgeolli. I wonder if it tastes sweeter than straight soju or something…
Also, same pot? 👀
Bro... what the fu... When did this arc turn into a whole horror movie? 😭😭😭
*WARNING: IF YOU GET SCARED EASILY, THEN I SUGGEST YOU GO HOME FOR THIS ONE. SCROLL DOWN AND DON'T LOOK!!!*
OOMFASKDJFHASDKJFHASDFJHASDFIAHFIEWHFIERHQWEIFHQWEIFHQWEFIOQWHQWHQFUHQWERFUQHE4FUIQ4H DUUUUUUUUUUUUUDE, WTF?!?!!?!?!? I JUST GOT JUMPSCARED WHILE READING THIS CHAPTER. WTH MAN. I DIDN'T KNOW WE GOING BACK TO THE CULT ARC. TF???
AND BROOOO WHAT IS THIS, THE MANDELA CATALOGUE????? PTJ PUTTING ALTERNATES NOW IN HIS CHAPTER??? (I love that channel btw and I love Analog horror. 🖤) PERO HNNNNNGGGGGHHHH WTFFFFFFFFF!!!
NAH, FUCK YOU!! YOU AND THAT PET HOARDER FROM THAT ONE ARC SHOULD BE BESTIES, BC WTFFFFFF. YOU GUYS ARE SCARY AF. I'LL YEET YOU INTO THE PILE OF PSYCHOS BRUV. YOU GOING IN WITH THE WHOLE ENTIRE DOG GOD CULT, DANIEL'S STALKER, ZOE'S STALKER, AND THE REST OF THEM. ALL OF YOU, GET INTO THE PIT AND BURN IN THE FLAMES OF HELL!!!
PTJ really giving us these angles man, sheesh... Man's wearing BAPE TOO? Bape underwear bruv. I can't- 💀 These mf's flexing on us, even with expensive underwear on. I'm dying in the inside.
Bitch you thought. (Also, he's giving me Gun vibes here. Shiiiiiiiiiiiit... Calm down, my feral ass, it's NOT HIM...)
AWWWW NOT THE DOGS GIVING HIM THE SCARED SIDE-EYES. 😭😭😭 (But nah, they really were all talk, barking and shiii. ALL BARK, BUT NO BITE. SMH 😤)
Yeah, you're all going to get GOT. Say your prayers now. 🙏🏽
OK, THAT'S YOUR FAULT FOR UNDERESTIMATING HIM THO. LIKE SORRY BABE, YOU DIDN'T GET THE MEMO??? 🙄 (Also, damn. If you were planning to break your phone in the first place, you should've just given it to me. I really needed a new one... 👁👄👁)
OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO SHIIIIIIIIIIIT, WE GOT BACKUP?????? 👀
OHHHHH SHIIIIIISDFKJASHDFKJDHFHKSDHF IT'S HUDSONNNNN!!!!!!!! OMGGGGGG I NEVER EXPECTED TO FEEL HAPPINESS WHEN I JUST SAW HUDSON. LIKE BROOOOO COMING IN WITH THE CLUTCH FRFR. 💪🏽💪🏽💪🏽 PERO DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMN, HE REALLY BODYING ALL OF THEM. OMG IM FUCKING SQUEALING RN AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!
OMGGGASHDFJASDHFJSDFHDSFDJKH. I... AM.... SCREAMINGGGGGGGGG!!!!!! JAAAAYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!! 😫😫😫😫💛💛💛💛💛💛
A KING FOR NONVIOLENCE, LET'S GOOOOOO!!!! 😍😍😍😍😍 (I loved how he just shows up without having to beat up anybody. Instead, he drives his motorcycle and scares people off of cliffs. God bless his pure heart.) 💀
UGHHHHHH THIS LINE UP IS SO GOOD BRO. I'M ALREADY HYYYYYYYYYYYYYPED!!!! 😆😆😆😆😆
AAAAAAAAAALRIGHTYYYYYY, SO THIS CONCLUDES CH. 435. Holy crap, I haven't finished a review THIS early in a while. BUT ANYWAYS, I really want to know why they're getting in Daniel's way of learning more about Jinyoung Park. Like, who are they? Jinyoung's bodyguards or something? 😅 They most likely might have beef with Jinyoung, but they've been hella pressed ever since Danny boy arrived. He's just trying to find this man, just leave him alone!! 😩 But what if they joined forces in trying to find Jinyoung...? Idk, just a little afterthought in the back of my mind. They might have some sort of compromise or something. Eugene style...? 😂✨ Anything is possible at this point
Also, "short and simple" my ass. I just realized that I went overboard AGAIN.
#lookism#lookism webtoon#lookism manhwa#lookism spoilers#lookism spoiler#lookism 435#lookism memes#lookism meme#daniel park#park hyungseok#hudson ahn#jay hong#hong jaeyeol
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tagged by @theaistired to shuffle my music and post the 10 first songs!! :o
1: sedona - sir chloe (love this song!!! sir chloe needs way more listeners i stg)
2: crazy chicks - ken ashcorp (a recent find, i <3 electronic music so much)
3: it's just a phase - jules bonnot (THE CHORUS OF THIS SONG <3333)
4: musique non stop - kraftwerk (i do this thing where i record music i hear out in public and then just forget abt it, so i found it again when looking thru my voice memos lol)
5: anathema - sweet spine (no words. incredible song.)
6: wet mulch - equipment (mid western emo be like)
7: digital silence - peter mcpoland (i have been. influenced.)
8: analog fight - m4x (<33)
9: killbot! - chloe moriondo (CHLOEEEEEE!!)
10: gorilla - little simz (little simz is everything to me fr)
tagging @poetunias and literally anyone who sees this!!! <33
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albums i enjoy in no particular order except for slightly alphabetical
radiohead - ok computer radiohead - the bends radiohead - a moon shaped pool radiohead - in rainbows childish gambino - because the internet quadeca - voice memos quadeca - from me to you quadeca - i didnt mean to haunt you netbooks.wrld - endless staircase extensions for chrome - please reconnect ace of hearts - frozen in time bo en - pale machine car seat headrest - twin fantasy (specifically just famous prophets) danny brown - xxx danny brown - atrocity exhibition danny brown - uknowhatimsayin¿ danny brown - quaranta jakey - romcom JPEGMAFIA STUFF - dreamcast summer songs - generation y - the rockwood escape plan - geny5 - the ghostpop tape - joechillworld - black ben carson - veteran - all my heroes are cornballs - lp - scaring the hoes kanye west - college dropout kanye west - late registration kanye west - graduation kanye west - mbdtf kelvinklub - privmix (analog version only) kendrick lamar - gkmc microphones - it was hot we stayed in the water microphones - the glow pt 2 microphones - microphones in 2020 mild sorrow integrated - arbol on4word - in rainbow roads on4word - ok computer 64 panzah zandahz - me & this army shawn lee - bully (original sound version specifically) tyler the creator - wolf tyler the creator - cherry bomb tyler the creator - flower boy tyler the creator - igor tyler the creator - call me if you get lost weatherday - come in weezer - the blue album weezer - pinkerton weezer - green album weezer - maladroit weezer - ewbaite weezer - white album weezer - ok human women - public strain yumi - lost 椎名林檎 - 加爾基 精液 栗ノ花
thats all
#radiohead#quadeca#childish gambino#netbooks.wrld#extensions for chrome#ace of hearts#bo en#car seat headrest#danny brown#jakey#jpegmafia#devon hendryx#kanye west#kelvin klub#kelvinklub#kendrick lamar#the microphones#microphones#mild sorrow integrated#on4word#panzah zandahz#shawn lee#tyler the creator#weatherday#weezer#women#yumi#lost#sheena ringo#music
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my december edc journals,
a moleskine ruled hardcover pocket as my logbook & my malden filofax mini as my to-do list.
it’s the end of the year, and i’m transitioning from my old analog system into my new one! so far i introduced the hobonichi weeks for weekly / monthly planning but i don’t feel the need to carry it with me. i still use my midori a6 for ideas, notes and general brain dumping but i’m choosing to keep my daily carry light so it’s staying with the hobonichi weeks on my desk.
for now when i’m on the go i have this duo to remind me what to do, keep memos and log my day.
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Do not obey in advance
* * * *
https://steveschmidt.substack.com/.../strategy-memo...
Pensacola Prince Andrew, aka Matt Gaetz, has been defenestrated.
Good riddance.
The next weakest targets are the alleged rapist Pete Hegseth and the registered Qatari agent Pam Bondi.
The Democratic position should be communicated in simple words: an alleged rapist cannot command the American Armed Forces, and a Qatari whore, who cashed the checks of the government that harbored Hamas while they plotted October 7th, cannot be the chief law enforcement officer.
Hakeem Jeffries should make his members read the Monterey California police report into the congressional record. He should apply maximum pressure on the weakest Republican members who know their place in the MAGA herd is on its periphery — on the outside. There, they run against the headwind, and feel the full force of the dangers that lurk everywhere.
There are a few predictable ingredients when it comes to creating political good fortune.
The first is luck. The second is your opponent’s incompetence and overreach.
Trump is overextended, and the transition plan has collapsed into a rubble of insanity 60 days before the inauguration.
He has taken his first step backwards, and will take many more.
The zebras on the outside of the herd are the ones who are most vulnerable. In this analogy, their names are Hegseth and Bondi.
The Monterey police report established beyond a reasonable doubt that Hegseth is an epic buffoon. Truly.
He may also be a rapist.
He seems to have a problem with women. Big time.
Something broke somewhere, and this ought to be explored psychiatrically and forensically under public examination before the Senate Armed Services Committee.
According to Reuters, Trump plans to decapitate the senior leadership of the US military in a Stalin-esque purge. Guilt by association and kangaroo justice await the men and women who have spent their entire lives in preparation for immense responsibilities and leadership.
The good news is that behind them is another, and another, and another, and another, and another, and another.
On Thursday, Karoline Leavitt, Trump-Vance transition spokeswoman issued the following statement:
This report corroborates what Mr. Hegseth’s attorneys have said all along: the incident was fully investigated, and no charges were filed because police found the allegations to be false. Pete Hegseth is a highly-respected Combat Veteran who will honorably serve our country when he is confirmed as the next Secretary of Defense, just like he honorably served our country on the battlefield in uniform.
Pete Hegseth should be brutally questioned about the US Navy and USMC and naval warfare theory, history, strategy and tactics.
The attitude of the Democratic opposition concerning his service in Iraq should be…wait for it…”We don’t give a f@#k.”
It doesn’t qualify him to be Secretary of Anything — let alone Secretary of Defense.
He should be derailed, mocked, humiliated, defeated and sent into a splendid exile on the Mar-a-Lago patio.
The whole lion pride should swarm the slowest zebra first — Hegseth — trip him, and then eat him.
When he’s gone and left behind as proverbial bones to be bleached by the hot sun on the Savanna, it will be time to give chase to Bondi.
She has fresh legs. Let her stretch them. She will not get far because she is running in Qatari quick sand.
I have said many times that Donald Trump Jr. is a moron and proof that nepotism is a very bad thing. It does demonstrate that Trump had some insight when he had some reluctance to bequeath his name, lest his progeny be “a loser.”
Junior has always reminded me of Uday, while Eric throws off more of a Qusay vibe. They are easy to mix up.
At any rate, they were a big problem for Saddam because, in the end, they were Saddam’s kids, and it was just going to be really hard for them to turn out okay — like Eric and Junior.
This is the point that really matters, especially if you are going to let Uday and Qusay pick the cabinet after their father buried their mother on the first hole of his golf course — after allegedly raping her years earlier.
You get the point, right?
This is all madness.
Make Pete Hegseth defend his depravity, his ethics, his unfitness and keep him pinned down. He is the top target.
Expose his profound and epic lack of knowledge, grasp of strategy, history and culture regarding the US military.
There is an old USMC saying: it is the 7 Ps.
It stands for “prior proper planning prevents piss poor performance.” This philosophy must be embraced by the Democratic Senate minority, led by the comically inept Schumer.
The US Navy and the US Army are two of the country’s oldest institutions. They are venerable. They are powerful. They will weather Trumpism if for no other reason than the NCO corps is as steeped in the traditions as is the general officers. In fact, from a lived experience perspective, more so. People who live without a North Star or a code do not comprehend those who do.
Let me tell you a story about the US Navy.
Think about this, as the alleged rapist and AAA-certified Fox News morning doofus gets ready to sink it:
This is the story of an elegant lady and her master. Her Master is a woman. She commands an American warship, a 44-gun United States Class heavy frigate, personally named by George Washington.
She was designed by an American genius from Philadelphia and built by New Englanders in a Boston shipyard. Her bow has sliced through all the Earth’s oceans, across four centuries of time.
American merchant ships and their crews were being preyed upon by the British and French Navies and looted by barbary pirates.
The young Republic was dependent on trade and commerce. The Third Congress appropriated money for the construction of six warships under the Naval Act of 1794 to protect American shipping.
The construction of the ships was spread between six states and cities. Local economies boomed around the building of the most technologically advanced machines ever constructed on the North American continent.
They were the spacecraft of their age, marvels of science, engineering and design. Though bigger than French and British frigates, they were smaller than the Capital ships of the great European naval powers. They were fast and their speed made them lethal under the command and crews of the born sailors who shaped the young United States and her Navy.
United States Ship is abbreviated as USS and precedes the name of an American Warship. What would be the names of the six ships?
It is an interesting question to ponder. Surely, the naming of these first American warships would have been imbued with meaning in 1794. We know it was not a trivial decision, and that it was made at the highest levels of government. The Secretary of the Navy submitted a list of ten names for consideration to President George Washington.
His office was as new as the country. Since there was no precedent, the founding generation was forced to make it up as they went along. John Adams had proposed a style of adornment and address for the office that would have embarrassed a European aristocrat. Washington rejected the flowery titles in favor of Mr. President.
The naming of the ships was a Presidential decision, and they offer a window into what was viewed as important, significant and meaningful in a young country not yet powerful or secure.
The first ship was named the USS United States.
One was named the USS Chesapeake, after the great Bay near Washington’s beloved Mount Vernon on the banks of the Potomac River.
Another, the USS Constellation, signified the constellation of stars on the blue corner field of the new red and white striped flag of the United States.
One was named USS President. There was only one President in the 1790s. He was the only elected Head of State in the world and his name was Washington.
King George III was curious about what a “President” would become and what Washington would do. He was astounded when he was told that his rival would transfer power voluntarily and return to Mount Vernon. The King said that if that were true then Washington would be the greatest man of his or any age.
There have been 46 American Presidents. Grover Cleveland counts for two. There have been great ones and bad ones. Honest ones and crooked ones. There have been successful ones and incompetent ones. There has only ever been one that has sought to break his promise and hold power against the will of the people. There are many names for such a person. American President has never been one of them.
Another was named USS Congress. The Congress was a co-equal branch of government that stood equally with the Article 2 and Article 3 branches of government created by the Constitution of the United States that imperfectly imagined a new nation with a new system of government into existence. The Congress was comprised of the elected Representatives of the American people.
It was unique in all the world.
There have been 117 Congresses. They have been filled with American people from our greatest thinkers, leaders, statemen and women to our most sublime fools, imbeciles, crooks, cons, racists, ne’er-do-wells, seditionists and criminals.
In the end, the United States Congress and the great Capitol Dome under which it meets is an extraordinary living achievement, a symbol of democracy and a raging hot mess.
The sixth ship is the USS Constitution. The USS Constitution endures. She survives. She has been fired upon, hit, damaged and fallen into periodic disrepair. She was forgotten, but her contribution remembered by the American people when it was retold in verse by Oliver Wendell Holmes in the 1830s.
Her hull was lined by Paul Revere, and her masts came from long leaf pine from South Carolina. She was set to be scrapped, but was saved by contributions from America’s school children in the 1920s.
Today, she sits in a quiet corner of Boston Harbor. She is the oldest floating ship in the world and the oldest warship in the US Navy. She remains in active service.
Our divided nation is at edge, in an angry hour where extremism has seized power with a seething contempt for American freedom and the Constitution.
It seems significant and worth remembering that none of those first six ships designed to protect a fragile freedom were named USS Supreme Court.
A radical court has acted in the name of the Constitution by stripping rights away from a specific category of Americans for the first time in history. It represents a type of judicial tyranny and societal engineering that is as radical and foolish as it is destabilizing.
The Constitution of 1787 was not perfect. It was far from just. It was, however, an incomparable work of genius that gave each generation of Americans a chance to create a more just society – to perfect the Union.
The American Constitution endures. It makes the United States of America a young nation and the oldest constitutional republic in the world.
Her namesake will fire a 21-gun salute on July 4th, 2026, to the United States of America in celebration of the occasion of the 250th anniversary of the independence of the United States.
She is undefeated. She is the USS Constitution.
[Steve Schmidt]
#Steve Schmidt#The USS Constitution#the Constitution of 1787#Corrupt SCOTUS#rule of law#battleships#history#USHistory
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