#annual credit report

[gendercensus]

The 2024 Gender Census is now open!

[ Link to survey ]

The 11th annual international gender census, collecting information about the language we use to refer to ourselves and each other, is now open until 13th June 2024.

It’s short and easy, about 5 minutes probably.

After the survey is closed I’ll process the results and publish a spreadsheet of the data and a report summarising the main findings. Then anyone can use them for academic or business purposes, self-advocacy, tracking the popularity of language over time, and just feeling like we’re part of a huge and diverse community.

If you think you might have friends and followers who’d be interested, please do reblog this blog post, and share the survey URL by email or at AFK social groups or on other social networks. Every share is extremely helpful - it’s what helped us get 40,000 responses last year.

Survey URL: https://survey.gendercensus.com

The 2024 survey is now closed!

The survey is open to anyone anywhere who speaks English and feels that the gender binary doesn’t fully describe their experience of themselves and their gender(s) or lack thereof.

For the curious, you can also spy on some graphs and demographic data for the incoming responses here.

Thank you so much!

[ Link to survey ]

Image credit: Malachite and rhodochrosite.

[investingdrone]

Best Student Credit Cards In Australia 2024

University is an exciting adventure, but it can also be a financial tightrope walk. Between textbooks, rent, study supplies, and that epic weekend trip to Byron Bay, managing your cash flow can feel like an impossible feat. Enter the world of Student Credit Cards! This handy guide dives deep into everything you need to know about these cards, from navigating the application process to using them…

[todaynewsonline]

How to Build Business Credit Without Using Personal Credit

How to Build Business Credit Without Using Personal Credit:- Building a successful business involves more than just having a great product or service—it requires a solid financial foundation. One crucial aspect of this foundation is business credit. Many entrepreneurs wonder how to build business credit without relying on their personal credit. In this article, we’ll explore the steps and…

[tanadrin]

@misanthropymademe Breaking this out so as not to get sidetracked, but the statistic on "78% of Americans live paycheck to paycheck" is wildly wrong, and is based on really bad surveys by for-profit companies using them to advertise their services. They also never define exactly what "paycheck to paycheck" means, which leaves room for that to include anyone who would be ruined by an unexpected $200 expense or the people who complain about how after private school tuition, music lessons, annual European vacations, and topping up their savings they have barely any money left over.

As of 2021, about 40% of Americans "would struggle to come up with $400 for an unexpected expense." According to this report from 2019, "75% of Americans [are] doping okay or are comfortable financially." About 10% of adults struggled to pay bills because changes to monthly income; 16% were not able to pay all their expenses in the time covered by the survey period; 63% of adults said if they had an unexpected $400 expense they could cover it completely in cash, or could put it on a credit card and pay that credit card off by the end of the month.

If you have seen the "78%" statistic, you're not stupid, or gullible; it's a deliberate lie that plays to people's priors that are pessimistic about the world, which social media is naturally inclined to engage because of how it tickles our limbic system. But it is false, and I think it is evidence that people get a large chunk of their impression about the state of the world from social media.

[probablyasocialecologist]

First, let’s address the fact that hackers recently accessed the personal data of about 14,000 23andMe customers. Because of how 23andMe works—it has a “DNA Relatives” feature that lets users find people they are probably related to—this breach created 6.9 million “other users” who had data stolen in the breach, according to reporting by TechCrunch. This data included people’s names, birth year, relationships, percentage of DNA shared with other 23andMe users, and ancestry reports.

[...]

Getting your DNA or your loved ones’ DNA sequenced means you are potentially putting people who are related to those people at risk in ways that are easily predictable, but also in ways we cannot yet predict because these databases are still relatively new. I am writing this article right now because of the hack, but my stance on this issue has been the same for years, for reasons outside of the hack. In 2016, I moderated a panel at SXSW called “Is Your Biological Data Safe?,” which was broadly about the privacy implications of companies and other entities creating gigantic databases of people’s genetic code. This panel’s experts included a 23andMe executive as well as an FBI field agent. Everyone on the panel and everyone in the industry agrees that genetic information is potentially very sensitive, and the use of DNA to solve crimes is obviously well established.  At the time, many of the possible dangers of providing your genome to a DNA sequencing company were hypothetical. Since then, many of the hypothetical issues we discussed have become a reality in one way or another. For example, on that panel, we discussed the work of an artist who was turning lost strands of hair, wads of chewing gum, and other found DNA into visual genetic “portraits” of people. Last year, the Edmonton Police Service, using a company called Parabon, used a similar process to create 3D images of crime suspects using DNA from the case. The police had no idea if the portrait they generated actually looked like the suspect they wanted, and the practice is incredibly concerning. To its credit, 23andMe itself has steadfastly resisted law enforcement requests for information, but other large databases of genetic information have been used to solve crimes. Both 23andMe and Ancestry are regularly the recipients of law enforcement requests for data, meaning police do see these companies as potentially valuable data mines. 

[beefrobeefcal]

Beefro's Annual Report 2024

I have been tagged countless times regarding a recap and/or what I was thankful for by so many wonderful friendos - but I'll give credit to @jolapeno for kicking us off.

This time last year, there were only 400 of you following me while I wrote my silly little stories. I had no idea how the year would go, from coming close to deleting everything to finding a community of people and friends who I now count as irl besties. I changed up the content I write and have explored all sorts of new things with the love and support of all you.

I love you all so very much. Here's to keeping one another afloat and warm in 2025,

Beefro👌🥩💜

Below are the fics, posters and things that I am very proud of from 2024 (masterlist can be found here).

One Shots:

Purpose: I know, I know... I have hooted and tooted about this fic before, but I really loved this so much. The fact that @perotovar loved it also makes this extra sweet. I know I am not known for seriousness and such, but I loved the experience.

like a cigar: I love this one for many reasons but chief among them is the brainstorming with @noxturnalnymph and @strang3lov3 that brought it to life. That evening will stay with me from now until the day I yeet from this mortal coil and I love you both so very much.

what the hell is wrong with tim: A vanity project that sat in my wips for 5 months. I started it because I wanted @pedroscouts badges for 'Sex Pollen' and 'Tim Rockford'. Then all hell broke loose and in to the wip bin Tim went. I finally dug him out and plugged away at it and the end result is one I am proud of. I worked hard for Tim... and all he got was pussy-fluid induced conjunctivitis and an eyepatch.

Shorties:

For the Stars: This one was brought about for my beloved Deedle @bitchesuntitled - she has worked hard on her sobriety, then wisely and bravely chose to celebrate it with her community. I was honored to get to take part in this celebration.

Ezra Goes to Church: @toxicanonymity knew what we needed during the summer and brought about the Manspread Olympics. This shortie, sitting at 350 words, has brought me so much joy. A titan's girth in so few words.

Series:

There are Other Fish in the Sea: This one came from a deep place of ouch. I had found a community on here who enjoyed the same things I did and it blew up in my face bc some people cannot play nice in the sand box. I still remember sending this idea to a beloved moot and their response was "I'm sorry, what are you going to do to Frankie & Mouse???" It was cathartic and a blow out way to change direction and I love Ezra.

the BEEF: I know there is only one fic in this anthology series so far, but I love the concept for it so much (thanks to @covetyou). The grumpy old neighbour Joel that kicked it off really allowed me to be as unhinged and horny as I wanted and my love for him is eternal.

Posters:

This year, I took up making posters for my wips and fics to boost my moral in writing. It helped! Below are the ones that have really made me fluff my feather in my cap (some are still wips).

Things:

Monthly Prompt Challenge: In a bid to share my ideas and thots, I started this in September. So far, no one has told me to stop and I very much enjoy do this!

beef Art: This year, I had Canva introduced to me and I have never looked back. You can see some of the horrible things I have created here.

Community: I have been most fortunate to have been welcomed and held by some extremely fabulous folks on here. There are so many of you, from the casual reblogger to the routine ask dropper (@deathsholywaterr, looking at you 💋) to the beta fish (@weregirlbyknight) to the shy nonnies... and to my beloveds who's usernames/pics made my heart warm, all of you keep this beef smiling. Thank you.

tagging bc you're a repeat offender in my heart:

@strang3lov3 @noxturnalnymph @weregirlbyknight @whocaresstillthelouvre @bitchesuntitled

@goodwithcheese @jolapeno @secretelephanttattoo @perotovar @sp00kymulderr

@rebel-held @romanarose @endlessthxxghts @wintrwinchestr @xdaddysprincessxx

@toxicanonymity @pedrit0-pascalit0 @yopossum @hellfire-state-of-mind

@tinytinymenace @jennaispunk @crowandmousewritingco @yallhearsm @missredherring

@kedsandtubesocks @slutsoutgutsout @magpiepills @sr-lrn @maggiemayhemnj

@mothandpidgeon @schnarfer @mando-abs @timelordfreya @artsy-girl-76

@wordywarriorwrites @ace-turned-confused @studioghibelli @bluecookies-and-ink @evolnoomym

@covetyou

[whencyclopedia]

Sydney Harbour Bridge Construction

The Sydney Harbour Bridge – affectionately known as The Coathanger by Australians – was opened to great fanfare and a touch of scandal on 19 March 1932 and was the longest steel arch bridge in the world at the time, with a span of 503 metres (1,650 ft) and standing at 134 metres (440 ft) above Sydney harbour.

Sydney Harbour Bridge During Construction

State Library of New South Wales (Public Domain)

Before the bridge was constructed, there were two Sydneys – the north side, with a population of around 300,000, and the south side and central business district, with 600,000 people. A regular and reliable ferry service took passengers across the harbour, carrying 13 million annually by 1908. There was also a land route from the south to the north shore, which was a time-consuming journey known as the 'five bridges' – horses and cars crossed a series of bridges over the Parramatta River, a detour that added 20-30 kilometres (12-19 mi) to the trip.

As Sydney's population grew and up to 75 ferries crisscrossed the harbour, often in dangerous and foggy conditions, the need for a bridge to connect the northern and southern shores gained momentum. One extraordinary man, Dr John Job Crew Bradfield (1867-1943), envisioned a structure that would unite Sydney – a minimalist, sweeping steel structure embodying modernist design aesthetics, breaking free from the city's convict-era agrarian roots.

Early Designs

Charles Darwin's grandfather, Dr Erasmus Darwin (1731-1802), was inspired by reports of the NSW colony and mentioned the vision of a 'proud arch' in his poem Visit of Hope to Sydney Cove, near Botany Bay, published in 1789. However, the first person to seriously propose a harbour bridge was the emancipated convict and New South Wales (NSW) government architect Francis Greenway (1777-1837). In an 1815 report to Governor Macquarie (1762-1824), Greenway raised the idea and also wrote to the editor of The Australian newspaper, which published Greenway's letter on 28 April 1825:

Thus in the event of the Bridge being thrown across from Dawes Battery to the North Shore, a town would be built on that shore, and would have formed with these buildings a grand whole, that would have indeed surprised anyone entering the harbour; and would have given an idea of strength and magnificence that would have reflected credit and glory on the colony and the Mother Country.

(The Australian, Letter to the Editor)

Greenway's vision was never adopted. The engineering skills and steel technology to span the harbour were not yet available, and the NSW colony was focused on agricultural production and settlement.

The next proposal was put forward in 1857 when English-trained engineer Peter Henderson designed a bridge from Dawes Battery (now Dawes Point on the south side) to Milsons Point. Henderson had worked with Isambard Kingdom Brunel (1806-1859), the renowned and groundbreaking 19th-century engineer who designed London's Paddington Station, the Great Western Railway linking London with the west of England and South Wales, and various steamships.

Sketch of Proposed Sydney Harbour Bridge

P. E. Henderson (Public Domain)

Henderson's sketch for a cast iron bridge supported by two pylons on either side of the harbour is the oldest existing practical plan. The population and economic activity on the northside in 1857 were not significant enough to convince the colonial government. It is also likely that engineering knowledge at the time would have resulted in a bridge that may have fallen into the harbour. Cast or wrought iron, which is not as strong as steel, might not have been capable of withstanding the stresses of a large span in a harbour with strong tides and a city frequently buffeted by high winds.

By the turn of the century, north shore residents had formed the Sydney and North Shore Junction League, championing a bridge inspired by the vision of Sir Henry Parkes (1815-1896), a local politician and five-time premier of NSW. Parkes had called for a bridge to improve transportation and promote urban development. This resulted in Minister for Works E. W. O'Sullivan (1846-1910), announcing a design competition in January 1900. Submissions were received from local and international engineers.

Continue reading...

[224bbaker]

🎂🥂Chapter Fifteen: The Case of the Birthday Boy🤵🏻‍♂️

You are cordially invited to:  Carlton House 7pm. August 20th, 1891

In which James faces the facts, Fitzy learns how to "yes-and," and the Toast of London attends Lucius’s Peppermint’s Annual Charity-a-thon…

Transcript here and at 224bbaker.com, where you can also find bios, more info, and links to our social media.

Full credits and content notes below the cut

CREDITS

Written and Directed by Ian Geers and Lauren Grace Thompson. Sound designed by Sarah Buchynski. Produced and edited by Lauren Grace Thompson. Original music by Baldemar and Ian Geers. 

CAST

Hampton Fawx: Jeremy Thompson

James Stallion: Chris Vizurraga

Madge Stallion: Katie McLean Hainsworth

Fitzy: Zack McKenna

Archie Cartwright: Shawn Pfautsch

Lucius Peppermint: Evin McQuistion

Thomas Rake: Sam Hubbard

Weatherby: Allie Babich

John Watson: Tom Crowley

Lottie: Beth Eyre

Party Guest: Rachel Jones

Times Reporter: Sarah Coakley Price

Standard Reporter: Chris Hainsworth

CONTENT NOTES

This episode contains adult language and sexual innuendo. Choking sounds. Murder.

[contemplatingoutlander]

Falling inflation, rising growth give U.S. the world’s best recovery

The European economy, hobbled by unfamiliar weakness in Germany, is barely growing. China is struggling to recapture its sizzle. And Japan continues to disappoint. But in the United States, it’s a different story. Here, despite lingering consumer angst over inflation, the surprisingly strong economy is outperforming all of its major trading partners. Since 2020, the United States has powered through a once-in-a-century pandemic, the highest inflation in 40 years and fallout from two foreign wars. Now, after posting faster annual growth last year than in 2022, the U.S. economy is quashing fears of a new recession while offering lessons for future crisis-fighting. “The U.S. has really come out of this into a place of strength and is moving forward like covid never happened,” said Claudia Sahm, a former Federal Reserve economist who now runs an eponymous consulting firm. “We earned this; it wasn’t just a fluke.” On Friday, President Biden hailed fresh government data showing that annual inflation over the second half of 2023 fell back to the Federal Reserve’s 2 percent target. Coupled with Thursday’s news that the economy grew by 3.1 percent over the past 12 months, the Commerce Department report showed that the United States appears to have achieved an economic soft landing. The post-pandemic recovery challenged long-standing economic beliefs, such as the idea of an inverse relationship between unemployment and inflation. (As one rose, the other was expected to fall.) Expressed in what economists call the Phillips curve, this nostrum proved nearly useless in explaining the economy’s recent behavior. [...] “Putting money in people’s hands vs. moving around interest rates, which is monetary policy, fiscal policy is going to be stronger,” Sahm said. “We cannot go into the next crisis being, like, ‘Oh, the Fed’s got this.’” Consumer spending is driving the economy: Real consumption rose by 0.5 percent in December, its fastest pace since last January. Pending home sales jumped, too. Following the flurry of good news, JPMorgan Chase economists said they raised their first-quarter growth forecast.

Biden deserves credit for turning the economy around. This was a front page headline article on the WaPo website for a short time on Sunday Jan. 28th. I didn't see anything about this on The New York Times front page website. The mainstream media should do a better job of conveying this good news about the economy. Certainly, the right-wing media won't do so.

[gendercensus]

The 2023 Gender Census is now open!

[ Link to survey ]

The 10th annual international gender census, collecting information about the language we use to refer to ourselves and each other, is now open until 9th May 2023.

It’s short and easy, about 5 minutes probably.

After the survey is closed I’ll process the results and publish a spreadsheet of the data and a report summarising the main findings. Then anyone can use them for academic or business purposes, self-advocacy, tracking the popularity of language over time, and just feeling like we’re part of a huge and diverse community.

If you think you might have friends and followers who’d be interested, please do reblog this blog post, and share the survey URL by email or at AFK social groups or on other social networks. Every share is extremely helpful - it’s what helped us get 40,000 responses last year.

Survey URL: https://survey.gendercensus.com

The survey is open to anyone anywhere who speaks English and feels that the gender binary doesn’t fully describe their experience of themselves and their gender(s) or lack thereof.

For the curious, you can also spy on some graphs and demographic data for the incoming responses here.

Thank you so much!

[ Link to survey ]

Image credit: Avery at Tradescantia Hub

[greyias]

How are the Highwind's spending life day this year?

Well, now that you mention it... trying to finish their last minute shopping! I think it went a little something like this...

(In honor of my stupidest, annual Life Day tradition in-game. (1) (2) (3) featuring @grumpyhedgehog​‘s lovely Lyra Dorn)

There was a special place in the Void reserved for the kind of people who would force an innocent party into unpaid manual labor—actually, wasn’t there laws against that in the Republic? Draike Highwind briefly considered ratting out his stupid baby sister to the proper authorities for forcing him to play pack nerf for this stupid Life Day shopping trip, even if that was a karffing narc move. Deciding his honor was worth more than petty revenge, he squashed down the urge. For now.

He reluctantly trudged behind said baby sister, struggling to balance the weight of enough gifts to stock a small moon. He wasn’t sure if there was a gift here for every single person on Odessen, even the subcontractors that made brief fuel stops in the hangar bay, but from the way his shoulders ached from the strain, he wouldn’t count it out entirely.

Ahead of him, Grey almost seemed to bounce on her toes, a garish sight decked out in her ridiculous Life Day sweater. It was a red and green monstrosity, depicting what he thought might have been Wampas gleefully dancing across her chest. Possibly rampaging. It was hard to tell underneath the twinkling lights. He hadn’t realized Life Day sweaters now came electrified, but this one was lit up enough to guide a Star Destroyer in for a landing. If she got any more festive, she would probably combust into a shower of tinsel and holiday cheer.

It was almost a tempting enough thought for him to endure this torment for a few minutes longer. Almost.

She unfortunately fit right in with the rest of the Promenade here on Nar Shaddaa. While the garish statue of Karagga had been left alone in all of his gaudy, gilded glory, the rest of Lucent Square had been filled with gaudy decorations and festive revelers. Garlands draped haphazardly across vendor stalls, threatening to strangle unsuspecting shoppers, while some enterprising Hutt had decided to erect a towering holographic tree in the plaza. Its intangible branches featured tacky holographic ornaments of the Hutt crime lords who controlled this festive hellscape grinning at the shoppers spending all of their hard earned credits.

Humans, Rodians, and all sorts of other non-Wookiee species wandered about in Life Day robes, something Draike made a mental note to ask Bowdaar the level offensiveness and Wookiee cultural appropriation was happening here. At least, he was until he saw a group of actual Wookiee carolers nearby, the distant cries of them roaring their traditional Life Day songs making him grit his teeth.

He was a respectful captain, and would not compare the sound of his old crewmate’s beloved and deeply spiritual beliefs to grinding gears of a malfunctioning hyperdrive. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t secretly wishing that maybe the job on Nar Kreeta hadn’t actually made him go deaf.

However, that did not excuse the repurposed protocol droids wandering around the place, accosting everyone with good cheer. He thought he’d overheard someone referring to them as gift droids, but if they’d been giving out gifts willy-nilly, he hadn’t seen it. Just heard their tinny voices chirping holiday greetings to passersby as they waddled about, the lights on their chassis blinking in seizure-inducing patterns. One particularly enthusiastic model nearly clothes-lined a Rodian while flailing its arms as it attempted to distribute what may have been some sort of knock-off Life Day candy.

Perhaps that should have been reported to the health inspector, but again, that was another narc move.

“Remind me next year,” Draike muttered under his breath as the circulation to his fingers seemed to be cut off from the weight of presents, “to skip town for the holidays.”

No one seemed to pay attention to, or care, about his suffering.

He attempted to shift the mountain of packages, wincing as the corner of one of the larger boxes dug into his ribs, while ahead of him Grey consulted a datapad that contained an unnecessarily detailed shopping itinerary. If she vibrated with any more holiday cheer, she might phase out of reality soon. Which would at least spare his retinas from the dancing lights on her sweater. Her husband walked alongside her, not bothering to restrain his bride’s excess enthusiasm. Theron’s concession to the holiday spirit was limited to a thin, dark sweater that was barely visible beneath his trademark red jacket. The man’s stubborn refusal to be fully pulled into the Life Day spectacle was almost admirable. Although the tiny antlers carefully perched around his fauxhawk somewhat ruined that air of grumpy indifference.

Their “merry” band of shoppers was rounded out by none other than Lyra Dorn, his Jedi often co-conspirator who for some reason wasn’t trying to rescue Draike from any of this indignity. She was managing to look tastefully festive in a deep red coat with more understated golden embroidery, and a long green scarf with snowflakes on it, exuding the sense of “holiday spirit” without looking like without looking like she'd been attacked by a pack of festive Wampas with a penchant for glitter.

A group of revelers stumbled out of the Slippery Slopes Cantina, cheeks red with festive cheer and their Life Day robes stained with what he hoped was spilled ale, and not some more questionable bodily fluid. Although that would certainly liven up this overly saccharine excursion, come to think of it. And certainly scandalize the walking embodiment of Life Day cheer who still ambled on ahead of him.

He tried to not envy the revelers their drunken stupor too much as Grey waved Theron and Lyra toward yet another vendor stall. Her ridiculous sweater seemed to almost flash in sync with her movements, the lights on the dancing wampas twinkling like a secret attempt to induce a navigational error in a passing starship. Devilishly clever if true.

Draike heaved a sigh, the dramatic kind that carred the weight of a being long-suffering and ignored by his companions, and betrayed by life itself. He tried to rebalance the gift horde again, only for the pointy box to jab into his ribs anew, as if it had a grudge against him specifically.

“How many more?” he called out.

“Hmm?” Grey didn’t even look back over her shoulder.

“How many more stops do you want to torture us with? At this rate I’m going to need a kolto tank for my spine.”

Grey finally turned to look at him, her face alight not just from the sweater but also just an unnatural level of joy and cheerfulness. He didn’t trust it one bit.

“Just three more shops!” She bounced on her toes again as she checked her datapad. “I’ve got it mapped out here. We'll hit Gree's Galactic Gifts for something special for Ben, get him into the holiday spirit."

Their youngest brother, Ben, the lucky bastard, had somehow gotten out of this charade by claiming he needed to do some special intel op spying on the Hidden Chain with Rass Ordo. Draike wasn’t sure if he actually bought the excuse what with the way Ben and his Mandalorian buddy kept sneaking glances at each other, but was actively regretting that he’d not thought to look busy with things of galactic importance to be able to get out of this endeavor.

"I think you’re going to need more than a gift to accomplish that. Probably a Life Day miracle,” Draike grumbled. “I’m pretty sure Ben was born with those grumpy pants on.”

She seemed to either not hear him, or just ignore him. "And then we'll finish up at Devaronian Delights for some of those candied song-cherries for the girls. They’ll like that right?"

Well, Soli and Roz probably wouldn’t say no to it, but seeing as his kids were teenagers, they’d probably appreciate a credit chit just as much. But if correcting her on that extended his agony, he’d just let her be the lame aunt.

Instead, he staggered dramatically and let out a loud groan. "You know, if you keep buying at this rate, we're going to need the Gravestone to haul it all back to base."

“The Gravestone was destroyed over a year ago.” Grey blinked, confused.

“It was the lucky one.”

Grey just rolled her eyes, completely unfazed by her brother's theatrics. "Oh, stop being so dramatic. We're making great time!"

"Great time?" Draike scoffed. "We've been at this for hours. I'm pretty sure my arms are about to fall off."

“Your arms seem fine to me.” Theron gave Draike a once over, eyebrow arching up dubiously but did reach out to steady a precariously balanced box that was about to take a tumble.

“Yeah, easy for you to say,” Draike shot back. “I don’t see you offering to hold any of this crap.”

“Yes, well, we had to keep your hands busy somehow, didn’t we?” Theron shot back. “After all, idle hands are the devil’s workshop. And you were so bored.”

“I’ll show you idle hands.” Draike could have “accidentally” dropped one (or more) box onto his brother-in-law’s foot, but the Jenga-like arrangement in his arms would probably all come tumbling down if he did that. So he resisted.

Lyra cleared her throat, as if she’d read the momentary gleam in his eye. “You know, we could try and reorganize the route? See if we can cut out a little wandering time.”

“Oh, no worries about that,” Grey held out the datapad, showing off a meticulously color-coded map of the Promenade, with a clear line marking an optimized path to take them from the must-have gift locations to the more optional but fun items. “Theron made sure to chart an optimal path that would hit all the stores with the least amount of backtracking.”

“Who knew he was such a stellar navigator,” Draike muttered darkly.

Theron shot him an equally sour look, deftly leaning back as Grey made a swooping hand gesture as she tried to explain the route in more detail, as if that would somehow not make Draike’s will to live slowly ebb away.

“I’m dying,” he whined. “Slowly wasting away from dehydration. My mouth a desert, my throat a barren wasteland. Just a poor abused pack nerf, far from home.”

Theron rolled his eyes so hard it was a wonder it was a wonder his ocular implants didn't short-circuit from the strain. “You’re fine. You had a drink less than an hour ago.”

Lyra, probably moved by the thought of a poor, abused nerf, seemed to take pity on him. “You know, a break doesn’t sound like the worst idea. I think I spied a Biscuit Baron just around the corner. Why don’t Theron and I go grab drinks for everyone?”

“Ooh, hot cocoa!” Grey’s eyes lit up at the prospect. Or maybe that was just the reflection of the lights on her damn sweater.

“I’m going to need something stronger than cocoa to get through the rest of this,” Theron grumbled. Although whether he was agreeing to make his wife happy, or just to shut Draike up was up for debate.

“They don't serve whiskey at Biscuit Baron,” Draike said wistfully, “trust me, I’ve checked.”

“Caf then,” he amended, “strong enough to wake the dead.”

The two of them stepped away, weaving through the crowd towards the promised of caffeinated and chocolate salvation. Immediately, like an excited Kath hound pup let loose in a field of unsuspecting nerfs, Grey’s attention was captured by a nearby shop window. The display had some sort of garish representation of Coruscant’s Senate building rendered entirely in blinking Life Day lights.

“Look at this!” Deprived of her willing victim in matrimony, she tried to wave him over to coo at the display with her. “It’s adorable! Maybe we should get one for the War Room back on base.”

Draike just blinked at her. “You want to add ‘festive cheer’ to our war planning? What next, tying ribbons and bows on thermal detonators?”

She either didn’t hear him, or chose to ignore him, instead peering closer at the gaudy eyesore, her nose almost pressing against the shop window. “I think it would really brighten the place up.”

“I mean, explosions generally do have that. As a side effect.”

As she seemed oblivious to the way he was staggering under the mountain of packages she’d saddled with him, Draike gave serious thought to just dropping the whole lot right there on the fancy little walkway. It would serve them right. Maybe if he made enough of a scene, they’d finally call it quits and wrap up this hellish excursion.

As if summoned by his frustration alone, one of those weird repurposed protocol gift droids waddled into view. Its red chassis was adorned with an ungodly amount of twinkling lights, and its optical sensors fixed on Draike with an intensity that suggested it had scanned him, analyzed his festive deficiencies, and declared him Patient Zero in a Life Day cheer pandemic.

“Uh uh, don’t you dare—”

“Greetings gentle being, and happy Life Day!” The droid’s voice modulator seemed like it was cranked to eleven on the perkiness scale. “I couldn’t help but notice you seem o be lacking in holiday cheer! Perhaps I can assist you in finding the true meaning of this joyous season?”

Draike’s eyes narrowed, as if he’d just been threatened with violence. “True meaning, huh? Like spending hard earned credits on useless junk? Developing a drinking problem to cope with family gatherings?”

“Stars, no!” The droid’s photoreceptors blinked in what might have been confusion. Or horror. “The true meaning of Life Day is about spreading joy and goodwill to all beings arose the galaxy!”

Hell, this thing was worse than his sister. “Yeah, nothing says ‘goodwill to all’ like being accosted by a walking holiday decoration.”

The droid’s chassis prevented it from tilting its head, but it seemed to sway as if it wanted to attempt the maneuver anyway. “I have not accosted anyone.”

“Do you come pre-programmed with the ability to ignore sarcasm, or is that an upgrade?”

The droid, unfazed by his biting tone, forged on. Probably an upgrade. “Perhaps a festive Life Day carol would lift your spirits? I am programmed with over a thousand holiday melodies from across the galaxy!”

“I’d rather be slowly digested in a sarlacc pit.”

“I’m sorry, I’m unfamiliar with that song. Since you do not have a preference, I will select a carol at random.”

“No, wait—”

Weighed down by a thousand gifts, and perhaps also his own crushing despair, Draike was unable to stop the droid from launching into an ear-splitting rendition of the traditional Wookiee song, “A Day to Celebrate”, in what sounded like Huttese. The discordant warbling was painful enough he almost dropped the mountain of gifts in a reflexive attempt to shield his ears from the auditory assault. He glanced desperately at his sister, hoping she might rescue him from this menace, but she remained blissfully oblivious to his plight.

The droid finished its “song” (and he used that term loosely) with a flourish. “Wonderful! I can see the Life Day spirit levels in you rising already!”

Draike’s eye twitched. “That wasn’t my spirit levels rising, that was my will to live actively trying to crawl out of my body and escape.”

The droid once again tried to tilt its head, but failing that ability, just sort of wobbled again, the lights around its chassis flashing in manner that could only be described as offensively jubilant. “Ah, we must then dig deeper into the core of your holiday malaise. Tell me, gentle being, have you considered extending goodwill to others this season?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He gritted his teeth as the giant gift pile swayed dangerously.

“A small donation could go a long way in helping those less fortunate.”

His arms burned from the weight of Grey’s endless shopping spree. Less fortunate? If anyone was less fortunate, it was him. “A donation? You want me to give credits to some random droid shaking me down in the street? What, did your ethical subroutines get crossed with a Hutt’s business model?”

The droid’s optical sensors flashed, its holiday cheer protocols struggling to process the insinuation. “I assure you, sir, this is a legitimate charity drive for the underprivileged children of Nar Shaddaa. Every credit goes directly to—”

“Listen, Jingle Bot, I’ve got my hands full of ‘Life Day cheer’ already. Literally. If I had any more my spine would probably snap from the weight.” Draike’s patience was wearing thinner than a worn-out strand of tinsel. “So unless your ‘charity drive’ comes with an extra set of arms or a repulsorlift sled, I suggest you take your goodwill pitch and shove it up your exhaust port!”

The droid didn’t budge, and if anything, Draike’s thinly veiled hostility seemed to encourage it almost. The festive lights on its chassis twinkled brighter as if trying to blind him into submission. “Oh, the gift of giving isn’t a burden. Perhaps if I explained the many benefits of charity during this festive season—”

Draike attempted to sidestep the obnoxious droid, the precarious tower of packages swaying dangerously, forcing him to freeze mid-step to steady them. The droid, apparently programmed with the tenacity of a Corellian sand panther, mirrored his movements, blocking his escape.

“Oh, for the love of—Grey!” Desperate, Draike tried to appeal to his sister’s heroic nature to come and save him. “A little help here!”

She turned her head slightly, barely sparing him a proper glance. “Oh, you’re fine. You’ve dealt with worse.”

A swear escaped him. “Worse? Worse than being harassed by a sentient disco ball?”

“I heard that!” The droid chirped, its tone somehow simultaneously cheerful and deeply offended. “Spreading joy may be a thankless task, but nonetheless, I persist!”

Oh, it persisted all right. Right back into Draike’s path as he tried once again to maneuver around the damn thing. A nearby Ithorian couple paused in their stroll, watching the scene with a mix of amusement and pity. One of them muttered something in their melodic language that he was pretty sure translated to “holiday meltdown”.

“Listen here, you overdecorated hyperdrive malfunction,” Draike hissed at his most hated nemesis, “if you don’t back off, I’m going to find the nearest scrap dealer and sell you for spare parts. Maybe in your next life you’ll be something useful, like a garbage compactor!”

For one blessed, glorious moment, the droid froze. Its photoreceptors dimming as if Draike’s bah humbug attitude had finally short-circuited the mechanical monstrosity. He felt a flicker of triumph.

Before the droid’s photoreceptors flickered. Once. Twice—before glowing an ominous, deep red.

The burgeoning smirk on Draike’s lips faltered. “Well, that can’t be good.”

When the droid spoke again, this time its tone was pitched deeper, slower and was laced with a menace that its cheery vocublator shouldn’t have been able to make. “Life Day spirit deficiency detected. Initiating aggressive holiday cheer protocols.“

“Aggressive what?”

He wasn’t sure if he should laugher be worried. Although from the way the droid’s festive lights flashed in a rapid, almost aggressive pattern… maybe the latter. “Now, now, I’m plenty cheerful. Look at this happy face of mine, see?”

Draike’s lips stretched into a wide, unconvincing grin, but from the way several passersby looked at him askance and herded each other away, perhaps it was more of a grimace.

The droid's chest compartment slid open, revealing a turret-like device loaded with fist-sized snowballs. Draike blinked, dumbfounded. Well, that was new.

Was that about to—?

Options flew by at light speed: Risk getting pelted with snowballs or dive for cover? Wait, what cover? The closest thing nearby that qualified was his oblivious sister. Update, new question. Drop the presents or use Grey as a shield? The answer was obvious.

Both.

Just as the first snowball launched with a soft, distinctive fwump sound, he moved. The mountain of packages tumbling in every direction, scattering with a less-than-festive crash. One particularly sickening crunch pierced the din as a delicate glass ornament met its untimely demise underneath Draike’s foot. He didn’t let that slow him down.

“What the—that was for Master Gnost-Dural!”

Before Grey could protest any further, Draike lunged for cover behind her, his hands clamping onto her shoulders and maneuvering her in front of him as a human shield, just in time for the snowball to splatter her with a wet thwack.

Phew, that was a close one. It had almost hit him!

A startled gasp escaped Grey as the snowball collided with her face, sending a spray of icy powder. But Draike was too busy surveying the damage to pay much attention to that or the fact that the droid was already reloading and launching another volley. He watched in detached, morbid fascination as an extra Life Day sweater, purchased on an impulse during hour three of this never ending shopping nightmare, unfurled like a discarded banner, its vibrant colors lost in the garish over decorated marketplace. Not much of a loss, really. The galaxy had enough crimes against fashion without adding another atrocity to the list.

A bottle of what was unmistakably expensive Corellian brandy rolled dangerously close to the edge of the walkway. Draike’s eyes widened as he looked between the bottle and the rapid-fire volley of snowballs hurtling towards the two siblings (or rather, towards Draike and his convenient human shield).

Saving the brandy could almost make this whole hellish excursion worthwhile. But there was no way he’d reach it without being pummeled. Perhaps he could drag Grey that direction and save it? The thought had merit.

As if sensing his distraction, the droid’s snowball barrage intensified.

“Draike!” Grey’s finely honed Jedi reflexes attempted to dodge the incoming snowballs (and maybe save some of her presents), but any attempt at tapping into that Force-given grace was hampered by her brother’s iron grip on her shoulders. “What in the Force are you—”

The question finished in an undignified squawk as another volley of snowballs pelted her.

“Stop it!” She sputtered, voice raising into a whining pitch that was very reminiscent to the one she used to use when they were kids and he was supposedly ‘picking on her’. “Let go of me!”

“Sorry, this is for the good of the galaxy!” He ducked lower behind her shoulder as another snowball whizzed past his ear. The cackle that escaped him was perhaps a little undignified, and more than a little manic. “You’re saving me from death by holiday cheer, just like a good little Jedi should.”

“It’s not funny, stop laughing!” Her drenched bangs were now plastered to her forehead, her ridiculous Life Day sweater now soaked through and clinging to her frame. The dancing wampas flickered pathetically, their cheery electronics no match for the droid’s relentless assault.

“Sure it is!”

Grey’s expression hardened, jaw setting in a way that suggested she was struggling to maintain her oh-so-perfect Jedi composure. “You’re being very immature, you know.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Draike didn’t sound sorry at all, “I didn’t realize there was a mature way to be assaulted by a homicidal holiday droid!”

Whatever she was going to say next was cut off as another volley of snowballs pelted Grey, making her sputter indignantly instead. That Jedi serenity was rapidly evaporating, replaced by the all-too-familiar look of a little sister pushed to her limits.

She furiously wiped the snow from her face, trying to twist around to face him, but his grip on her shoulders remained firm and she could only peer furiously and ineffectively over her shoulder. “I know where you sleep!”

That drew a full on snort from him, as if he’d be caught unawares by the least subtle person in the galaxy. “Oh nooo, the fearsome Jedi knows my sleeping arrangements! I’m shaking, I’m shaking!”

Grey’s eyes narrowed dangerously, a look that might have been intimidating, if she didn’t resemble a drowned womp rat. “You’re going to regret this, Draike Highwind.”

“Probably,” he agreed, and then pivoted them both so she valiantly saved him from another bombardment of snowballs. “But not as much as you’re going to regret wearing that sweater.”

“It’s a fun sweater!” Grey shrieked, composure finally shattering as she threw up her hands. The air shimmered in front of her, snowballs splattering harmlessly against some invisible shield. Oh, some sort of Force nonsense. Of course.

“Oh, yeah! Nothing says ‘fun’ like a pack of electrocuted wampas doing the Coruscant Jig across your chest.” Draike peered over her shoulder, eyeing the droid warily. Despite this new obstacle, it seemed content to keep up its relentless assault. “I’m surprised the Jedi Council hasn’t made it standard issue.”

She fixed him with a glare as hot as Tatooine’s twin suns, nose wrinkling in annoyance. But between the wet hair plastered across her forehead made the look more pitiful than threatening. “You realize you’re replacing everything that got ruined.”

He made a noncommittal noise.

“Everything.”Her tone was eerily reminiscent of the times she would tattle on him to their mother. Just about as effective now as it was then, too.

“Oh, no. You’re going to make me go shopping?” He gasped in mock horror. “I guess that will be just like the last ten hours of my life!”

The droid, apparently encouraged by Draike’s obvious enjoyment of the chaos improbably increased the rate of its snowball production, expanding its targeting protocols to include a group of Revelers passing by. They scattered with undignified shrieks.

“Hey, now, look at that,” he pointed cheerfully, “you’re now not the only one being graced with the holiday spirit. Look at all the joy we’re spreading!”

A particularly large snowball sailed over Grey’s Force shield, catching a Wookiee caroler square in the face mid-warble, ending the “song” in a surprised roar that echoed throughout the Promenade. 

“Uh oh,” Draike pointed in the direction of the latest victim, “I think you made him angry. Quick, use a Jedi mind trick to calm the savage beast!”

Seeing as she hadn’t stopped glaring at him, or at least attempting to with the awkward positioning, she didn’t fix him with another one. But it definitely turned withering at the comment. “That’s not how the Force works and you know it.”

“Really? Huh. I could’ve sworn I’ve seen you pull that trick on Theron when he gets all worked up about—”

“Shut. Up.” She ground out through gritted teeth, her cheeks flushing a shade of red that had nothing to do with the cold.

The Wookiee shook himself, ending clumps of snow flying in all directions. A larger chunk sailed through the air in a graceful arc, somehow managing to bypass Draike completely and splat across Grey’s freckled nose with pinpoint accuracy. Her eyes crossed as she stared at the dollop of snow now perched in the center of her vision, looking utterly ridiculous with her soaked sweater, bedraggled hair, and newly acquired snow mustache.

It was perhaps the most beautiful sight that Draike had ever seen.

So caught up in the ridiculousness of her snow-covered visage, he almost missed the moment Theron and Lyra returned. Almost.

Just beyond the still shimmering Force barrier that was still being relentlessly pummeled with a frankly alarming and endless amount of snowballs (how was that physically possible for it to keep generating those ad nauseam without being hooked up to a water supply?), he could see both of them emerging from the crowd. Watching in real time as there expressions morphed from confusion. Lyra’s went to weary exasperation int he span of a heartbeat. Impressive honestly. She’d clearly been spending too much time around him.

Theron, however, cycled through a rapid-fire series of emotions as if he couldn’t settle on just one at first. Surprise. Dawning comprehension, then a blossoming rage. That vein in his forehead—the one Draike had mentally dubbed “Old Faithful” for its reliability—began to pulse with a righteous fury.

“Oh oh,” Drake nudged Grey slightly as she furiously wiped snow from her face. “Don’t look now, but Lover Boy’s about to reach critical mass.”

She stopped wiping her face in time to see the thundercloud settling over husband’s face. “Theron, don’t—”

But it was too late. Theron was already in motion, the drinks he’d been carrying went flying, splattering across the Promenade’s flooring in a caffeinated explosion. Lyra let out an exasperated sigh, aking a Force-enhanced step back to keep it from splattering across her cute, practical little Life Day themed boots.

“My cocoa!” Grey’s lower lip protruded in the same way it did when she was five that somehow always got Draike grounded for the next week.

Theron moved with the precision of a trained operative, a coiled spring of protective fury unleashed. He vaulted over the railing, using it as a springboard to launch himself at the droid in a move that was as impressive as it was ridiculous. His dropkick connected with a resounding clang, sending the droid flying back, snowballs scattering in every direction.

Draike let out an appreciative whistle. “Nice form! Good execution. I give it a solid 9.5 out of 10.”

Grey’s withering glare somehow intensified. If that was possible. 

The droid sparked, sputtering dramatically. Its chassis was now dented from the well-placed dropkick, and the snowball mechanics seemed to be malfunctioning. The chest compartment opened and closed spasmodically as it tried and failed to rise, determined to find its quarry. With a final, pathetic whir, one last snowball launched weakly into the air, landing with a wet plop at Theron’s feet.

He stood over the fallen droid, chest heaving and looking more than a little pleased with himself. The antlers were a little askew, and the perfectly maintained fauxhawk mussed from the extortion. A few strands of hair escaped the gravity defying amount of hair gel he used to sculpt it and fell rakishly across his forehead. Perhaps on someone who wasn’t such a stick-in-the-mud, the sight might almost have been attractive.

Grey pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out a long exhale that somehow managed to convey both exasperation and fondness. “Was that really necessary?”

“Absolutely,” Theron replied without hesitation. He still glared at the prone droid, as if daring it to twitch. “What kind of husband would just stand idly by and let you get pelted with snowballs?”

“My hero.” Her deadpan reply was softened by the way her lips twitched, fighting back a smile. Ugh, it was so wholesome. Disgusting.

Lyra, meanwhile, was already attempting to do a little damage control, intercepting approaching cartel security personnel with an ease that suggested this wasn’t the first, or perhaps even hundredth, time she’d had to pull this maneuver.  She waved her hand in front of her vaguely, voice calm and authoritative, perhaps laced with a small amount of Force suggestion. "Everything's fine here. Just a small malfunction. We have the situation under control."

Crisis finally averted, Draike finally released his iron grip on Grey’s shoulders. She jerked away from him, still clearly irritated. She was in a sorry state, looking like she’d gone for a swim fully clothed. The once-festive sweater was now a sad, soggy mess. The dancing wampas flickered pathetically, their electronic holiday cheer no match for the droid's relentless assault.

She attempted to salvage the thing, wringing out the bottom of her sweater and creating a small puddle at her feet. The motion sent a cascade of melting snow and ice crystals tumbling from her hair, pattering against the floor like the saddest confetti imaginable.

“You know,” Draike stroked his chin thoughtfully, “I think I prefer this look. Really brings out your eyes.”

Her glare could have melted durasteel.

Draike took a step back, not because he was intimidated or anything. Truly, it was only to inspect his… mostly unintentional handiwork. Baby sister’s Jedi composure crumbling into murderous sibling intent? Check. Annoying droid in laying in sparking ruins? Also check. The stupid spy making a fool out of himself with overly dramatic and unneeded heroics? Double check. It really couldn’t have been any better if he’d actually tried to orchestrate this. 

So distracted with the beautiful poetry of it all, Draike completely missed the growing puddle of melted snow spreading across the floor from Grey’s soaked clothing. His foot his the slick surface, cutting off his internal monologue about his beautiful chaos. Time seemed to slow, his arms pinwheeling, a look of dawning horror spreading across his face.

“Oh, shi—”

Gravity took over, sending him crashing down hard on his ass right in the middle of an icy puddle, and leaving him in an undignified heap. He blinked up at the gaudy Life Day decorations adorning the ceiling.

Any attempt at Jedi-appropriate sympathy from Grey lasted about half a second, before she snorted. For her part, she did attempt to cover her amusement with a cough that fooled absolutely no one. “Are you alright? That looked… painful.”

“Your concern is touching, truly.”

Grey pressed her lips together, fighting a losing battle against her rising mirth. “I’m just glad to see you’re finally getting into the holiday spirit.”

“I will end you,” Draike promised, trying to rise imperiously from the ground, but slipping and falling again.

“And then I executed a perfect flying kick,” Theron was saying perhaps a little too loudly to a clearly unimpressed Life Day Reveler, gesticulating wildly as he mimed a blow-by-blow account of his droid takedown. “Perfect trajectory, form, sheer power. Who needs the Force?”

The Reveler, a Rodian wearing now snow-splattered Life Day robes, simply blinked at Theron before slowly inching away. 

Nearby, Lyra picked through the wreckage of their shopping expedition, plucking a sodden package from a puddle. She winced as she peeled back the corner of ruined wrapping paper, water dripping from it in a steady patter, adding to a growing pool at her feet that reflected the gaudy lights strung around them.

As if sensing his eyes on her, Lyra glanced up, arching one perfectly sculpted eyebrow in a single expression that managed to convey entire paragraphs of unspoken commentary.

A blend of “I saw that coming”, I told you so" and "you deserved that" all rolled into one. The slight twitch at the corner of her mouth betrayed her struggle to keep a straight face. Draike scowled, his pride bruised even worse than his backside.

“Don’t say it. “He pointed a finger at her, finally managing to shove himself into an upright position at least. “Not one word.”

Lyra opened her mouth, expression promising perhaps a remark about karmic justice, when a shadow fell over Draike. A towering Wookiee, draped in a festive sash that strained against its massive frame, loomed over him and let out a deep, rumbling sound. It was probably meant to be sympathetic—perhaps the Shyriiwook equivalent of "there, there." But to Draike's ears, it sounded suspiciously like amusement.

Before he could protest, a massive furry paw came down, patting him with surprising gentleness, though with enough force to still muss his carefully maintained coif. The gesture made him feel about five years old, which added another crushing blow to his already battered dignity.

“Watch the—” Another pat nearly knocked him sideways, silencing his protest. 

He flailed, struggling to maintain what little balance he had left. The Wookiee let out another sympathetic warble, misinterpreting the spluttered protests as need for more comfort. The worst part of it was one little sister’s poorly disguised attempts to suppress her mirth, the unconvincing coughs failing to cover her snickering.

The area around them was a disaster zone of holiday cheer gone wrong.  Shattered presents lay scattered around the sparking, sputtering gift droid.

"Hap-hap-happy Life D-d-day," it wheezed, a few sad snowflakes dribbling from its damaged chest. "Would you like to make a d-d-donation?"

Draike finally disentangled himself from the well-meaning Wookiee, rising with what little dignity he could muster as nearby, Theron had been forced to shift from trying to regale passersby with the heroic tale of droid slaughter to explaining to a very beefy cartel security officer why droid assault was completely justified. 

“It was a menace to society—it’s holiday cheer settings way too aggressive to be considered normal!”

The Nikto security guard looked unimpressed, reptilian features twisting into a scowl. “Sir, I fail to see how malfunctioning gift droid deserved such a brutal murder.”

“Murder?” Theron sputtered indignantly. “It was self-defense—”

Grey, still dripping, had given up on salvaging her festive sweater. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering as the icy water soaked through her clothes. The dancing wampas on her chest gave one, final, pitiful flicker before going dark entirely.

Theron immediately broke off his impassioned defense of droid violence, shrugging off his jacket in one smooth motion and raping it over his shivering wife’s shoulders. As he fussed with the collar, making sure it was snug around her neck, he shot a pointed glare at Draike that clearly said “this is your fault”. 

Grey tried, and failed, to hide her little smile at the gesture, even as she half-heartedly protested. “I’m fine, really. It’s not that cold—”

Her words trailed off as she burrowed deeper into the warmth of the jacket, contradicting her claim entirely. The red leather engulfed her smaller frame, making her look even more bedraggled than before. But the contented sigh she let out betrayed her gratitude.

Kneeling down, still clutching the jacket around her, Grey began sifting through the wreckage of their shopping expedition. Her expression soured as she lifted a sodden bundle of documents, waterlogged and practically disintegrating in her hands. 

"Oh no," she groaned, squinting at the label. "This was the documentation for Master Gnost-Dural about the Hidden Chain’s latest activities. It's completely ruined."

“What a tragedy,” Draike muttered."

She shot Draike another exasperated look, this one leaning heavily towards the 'annoyed' end of the spectrum. "Do you have any idea how long it took me to track these down? Now I'll have to file incident reports about the incident reports."

"Ah yes, the bureaucratic circle of life. Truly, there is no greater tragedy in the galaxy."

“Lana has backups,” Theron put in helpfully, although he leveled a similarly annoyed glower in Draike’s direction. “Something about not trusting us with the sole copy of vital intelligence. Which, I loathe to admit, might be somewhat justified right about now.”

Lyra offered Draike a hand up, and he abandoned the attempts to wring out the hem of his jacket to accept her firm grip. She hauled him from the puddle with practiced ease. “Honestly, Draike, this is why we can’t have nice things.”

“I personally think we’re all better for the experience.” He straightened his back in an admirable, if ultimately doomed, attempt to retain some shred of authority. “Besides, seeing that damn droid get dropkicked like that was almost worth me wetting my pants—wait, getting my pants wet.”

Lyra’s lips twitched, managing to fight back a smile as she bent to retrieve another soggy package. “They do say that property destruction is the hallmark of a successful shopping trip.”

“It is when Agent Shan is involved.” Draike thumbed in Theron’s direction. “But also good riddance to an obnoxious menace.”

Grey glanced over in his direction. “I’m sure the Hutt Cartel will be thrilled to hear about our heroic droid slaying. The headlines practically write themselves: ‘Rogue Jedi and Idiot Brother Destroy Priceless Holiday Decorations.”

"Hey, it’s not our fault if they overpaid for that rusted hunk of junk. Clearly it should have only cost them a handful of credits.”

“Because they’re famously so understanding about such things.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. He really had done a number on that Jedi patience of hers, hadn’t he? “And since you’re so eager to explain our heroic deeds, you can be the one to tell Master Gnost-Dural exactly what happened to his files.”

“Wait, what?”

“I mean, it’s only fair that you get to explain to one of the Jedi Order’s new Grand Master why his carefully compiled research is now soggy confetti."

“Well why the hell did you print it out on flimsiplast to begin with instead of sending him an e-mail like a normal person?”

“I’m sorry if he’s old fashioned—”

“Wait, Gnost-Dural regularly checks his e-mails.” Theron frowned in confusion. “He sends me lame screenshotted memes like every other day.”

“I,” Draike insisted, ignoring Theron like he usually did, “was an innocent bystander in all of this.”

“You’re about as innocent as a Jawa in a droid swap,” Lyra intoned dryly.

“Lyra,” Grey said, a little scandalized at the insinuation against Jawakind. She adjusted Theron's jacket around her shoulders, though it did little to stop the shivering that had set into her bones.

A second security officer joined the Nikto, this one a burly Zabrak with a badge that looked far too shiny for someone assigned to deal with Life Day mall chaos. In unison they crossed their arms, staring Theron down with the grim determination of underpaid employees counting the minutes to the end of their shift. When his indignant sputter of doing what any concerned citizen didn’t move them, Theron moved on to the subject of legal liabilities for Cartel-owned droids assaulting innocent shoppers, and both the Nikto and Zabrak exchanged weary glances before waving him off with matching sighs of defeat. Clearly, they'd decided that dealing with this particular brand of Life Day chaos wasn't worth the overtime.

Lyra, ever efficient, had somehow salvaged and redistributed the surviving packages, even producing a small satchel from seemingly nowhere to carefully tuck away the most delicate items.

“I don’t suppose you’ve got a spare set of clothes in there too?” Draike eyed the satchel with a mixture of hope and suspicion. “Life Day sweaters don’t count.”

Lyra's lips twitched, fighting back another smile as she adjusted the strap on her shoulder. "I'm good, Draike, but I'm not that good. Though I did manage to save your Corellian brandy."

Draike perked up, his soggy misery momentarily forgotten. "You're an angel among Jedi, you know that?"

Lyra gave him a sidelong glance, her lips twitching again. "Don’t push it, Captain. I’m still debating whether or not you deserve it. But I figured if I didn't save the brandy, you'd only cry harder."

“I do not cry,” he sniffed indignantly. “Just occasionally wallow. Besides, that droid had it out for me from the get-go. Did you see how it hounded me?”

“No, I was at Biscuit Baron.”

“It was like a predator stalking its prey—”

A mechanical whir cut him off, and the group froze, turning as one to stare at the defunct droid they’d left in their wake. The battered chassis sparked, chest compartment grinding one final time. Theron instinctively moved to shield Grey just as the droid let out one last sad little fwump.

A single snowball launched, arcing through the air, sailing past where Theron’s protective stance and Grey’s half-formed Force barrier to catch Draike square in the face. The droid let out a final, satisfied “Happy Life Day” before sparking and dying completely, lights flickering out like an errant breeze snuffing out a candle. 

Snow dripped down Draike's chin as his sister completely lose her composure, dissolving into the kind of laughter that had her leaning against her husband for support. As he wiped the slush from his face, he had to admit (though only to himself, and very, very quietly) that maybe he deserved that one. But only that one.

[ivan-fyodorovich-k]

I will be curious to read the vituperative denials of the validity of this article's analysis, which is pasted below the cutoff:

“Are you better off today than you were four years ago?” That question, first posed by Ronald Reagan in a 1980 presidential-campaign debate with Jimmy Carter, has become the quintessential political question about the economy. And most Americans today, it seems, would say their answer is no. In a new survey by Bankrate published on Wednesday, only 21 percent of those surveyed said their financial situation had improved since Joe Biden was elected president in 2020, against 50 percent who said it had gotten worse. That echoed the results of an ABC News/Washington Post poll from September, in which 44 percent of those surveyed said they were worse off financially since Biden’s election. And in a New York Times/Siena College poll released last week, 53 percent of registered voters said that Biden’s policies had hurt them personally.

As has been much commented on (including by me), this gloom is striking when contrasted with the actual performance of the U.S. economy, which grew at an annual rate of 4.9 percent in the most recent quarter, and which has seen unemployment holding below 4 percent for more than 18 months. But the downbeat mood is perhaps even more striking when contrasted with the picture offered by the Federal Reserve’s recently released Survey of Consumer

The survey provides an in-depth analysis of the financial condition of American households, conducted for the Fed by the National Opinion Research Center at the University of Chicago. Published every three years, it’s the proverbial gold standard of household research. The latest survey looked at Americans’ net worth as of mid-to-late 2022 and Americans’ income in 2021, comparing them with equivalent data from three years earlier. It found that despite the severe disruption to the economy caused by the pandemic and the recovery from it, Americans across the spectrum saw their incomes and wealth rise over the survey period.

The rise in median household net worth was the most notable improvement: It jumped by 37 percent from 2019 to 2022, rising to $192,000. (All numbers are adjusted for inflation.) Americans in every income bracket saw substantial gains, with the biggest gains registered by people in the middle and upper-middle brackets, which suggests that a slight narrowing of wealth inequality occurred during this time. In particular, Black and Latino households saw their median net worth rise faster than white households did—though the racial wealth gap is so wide that it narrowed only slightly as a result of this change.

A big driver of this increase was the rising value of people’s homes—and a higher percentage of Americans owned homes in 2022 than did in 2019. But households’ financial position improved in other ways too. The amount of money that the median household had in bank accounts and retirement accounts rose substantially. The percentage of Americans owning stocks directly (that is, not in retirement accounts) jumped by more than a third, from about 15 to 21 percent. The percentage of Americans with retirement accounts went from 50.5 to 54.3 percent, a notable improvement. And a fifth of Americans reported owning a business, the highest proportion since the survey began in its current form (in 1989).

Americans also reduced their debt loads during the pandemic. The median credit-card balance dropped by 14 percent, and the share of people with car loans fell. More significantly still, Americans’ median debt-to-asset, debt-to-income, and debt-payment-to-income ratios all fell, meaning that U.S. households had lower debt burdens, on average, in 2022 than they’d had three years earlier.

The gains in real income (in this case, measured from 2018 to 2021) were small—median household income rose 3 percent, with every income bracket seeing gains. But that was better than one might have expected, given that this period included a pandemic-induced recession and only a single year of recovery.

The picture the survey paints, then, is one of American households not only weathering the pandemic in surprisingly good shape, but ultimately also emerging from it in better financial shape than they were going in. And that, in turn, points to the effect of the U.S. policy response to the crisis: Stimulus payments, enhanced unemployment benefits, the child-care tax credit, and the moratorium on student-loan payments boosted household income and balance sheets, helping people pay down debt and increase their savings. In the process, these policies mildly narrowed inequality.

The U.S. government’s aggressive response to the pandemic, including Biden’s stimulus spending, also helped the job market recover all its pandemic-related losses—and add millions of jobs on top. The resulting tight labor market has been a huge boon to lower-wage workers. In fact, because the Fed survey’s income data end in 2021, it understates the income gains for the bottom half of the workforce, and the shrinking income inequality they’ve produced.

Hourly wages for production and nonsupervisory workers (who make up about 80 percent of the American workforce) rose 4.4 percent year-on-year in the third quarter of 2023, for instance, ahead of the pace of inflation. And this was not anomalous: Arindrajit Dube, an economist at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst, crunched the numbers and found that real wages for that same sector of workers are not just higher than they were in 2019, but are now roughly where they would have been if we’d continued on the upward pre-pandemic trend.

The reason for this is simple: Low unemployment has translated into higher wages. As a recent working paper by Dube, David Autor, and Annie McGrew shows, the tight labor markets of the past few years have given lower-wage workers more bargaining power than in the past, leading to a compression in the wage gap between higher-paid and lower-paid workers. Of course, that gap is still immense, but the three scholars found that the wage gains for lower-paid workers have rolled back about a quarter of the rise in inequality that has occurred since the 1980s.

So what should we take away from the Survey of Consumer Finances data, and from Dube, Autor, and McGrew’s work? Not that everything is fine, but that public policy and macroeconomic management matter a lot. Enhanced unemployment benefits, the child-care tax credit, the stimulus payments—these things materially improved the lives of Americans and helped set the economy up for a strong recovery. If the policy response had been less aggressive, the U.S. economy would be in worse shape now. This is something you can see by looking at Europe, where economies are growing far more slowly and unemployment is higher, while inflation is no lower.

Key to this story is the fact that lower-wage workers in particular would be worse off, because they have been among the chief beneficiaries of the low unemployment created by the robust recovery. It’s a useful reminder that stagnant wages are not an inevitable result of American capitalism: When labor markets are tight, and employers have to compete with one another for employees, workers get paid more.

So, even allowing for the high inflation we saw in 2022, no one could really look at the U.S. economy today and say that the policy choices of the past three years made us poorer. Yet that, of course, is precisely how many Americans feel.

Although that pessimism does not bode well for Biden’s reelection prospects, the real problem with it is even more far-reaching: If voters think that policies that helped them actually hurt them, that makes it much less likely that politicians will embrace similar policies in the future. The U.S. got a lot right in its macroeconomic approach over the past three years. Too bad that voters think it got so much wrong.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

vote blue

* * * *

Joe Biden’s gifts to America

August 2, 2024

Robert B. Hubbell

Over his half-century of public service, Joe Biden bestowed many gifts on America. True, like every politician with a fifty-year record, he has made his share of mistakes. But when it mattered most, Joe Biden stepped into the breach to defend democracy and provide hope to America when it flagged.

He stepped up to challenge Trump in 2020 because he believed he could save America from the horrors of a second Trump term. He was right. That was a gift.

Over the next four years, he restored decency, compassion, and fairness to the governance of great nation. That was a gift.

He proposed and passed sweeping legislation that made historic investments in fighting climate change, protecting the environment, ending child poverty, rebuilding our infrastructure, and bringing chip manufacturing back to America’s shores. That was a gift.

He restored the broken relationships between America and its allies. He was able to do so because our allies recognized that he was a good and decent man whose word could be trusted. That was a gift.

Today, Joe Biden’s gift of renewed international alliances resulted in the freedom of three American citizens wrongfully detained by Russia. The exchange would not have happened except for the relationship of trust and goodwill between President Joe Biden and German Chancellor Olaf Scholz.

The German Chancellor agreed to release a Russian assassin held in a German prison. In agreeing to the deal, Chancellor Scholz told Biden, “For you, I will do this.” See WaPo, Inside the deal that led to a blockbuster prisoner swap between U.S., Russia. (This article is accessible to all.)

The complex deal involved 24 detainees and 7 countries—the most complicated prisoner swap between the US and Russia in history. President Biden continued to work his relationships with foreign leaders to close the deal until the very moment he announced his withdrawal from the presidential race. Joe Biden’s selfless efforts were a gift.

The complex deal could not have happened without Joe Biden and Kamala Harris or the cooperation of six US allies. Vice President Kamala Harris played an active role in the negotiations, including private meetings with the Slovenian Prime Minister and German Chancellor at the annual Munich security conference.

The complexity of the deal is beyond the comprehension or attention span of Donald Trump—who boasted that he could secure the release of US detainees from Russia without giving any concessions to Putin. After Joe Biden finished his press conference announcing the deal, a reporter shouted a question about Trump's boast that “that he could have gotten the hostages out without giving anything in exchange.”

Biden stopped, returned to the lectern, and asked, “Why didn’t he do it when he was president?” See embedded video, here.

Within an hour of completing negotiations for the swap, Joe Biden withdrew from the presidential race. Thirty-minutes later, he endorsed Kamala Harris for president. At a time when party leaders and podcast pundits were calling for “mini-primaries” and an “open convention,” Joe Biden had the wisdom and foresight to realize that Democrats needed unity and certainty.

Kamala Harris had earned Joe Biden’s endorsement, and he gave it promptly and enthusiastically. Forty-eight hours later, Kamala Harris was the presumptive nominee of the Democratic Party. That was Joe Biden’s final gift—a seamless transition that has allowed Democrats to overtake Trump in less than two weeks. Kamala Harris deserves great credit for that result, but so, too, does Joe Biden for his selfless actions, wisdom, and political foresight.

[Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter]

[probablyasocialecologist]

Articles, reports, and studies about agriculture are likely to contain some version of the following sentiment: “The population is expected to grow to almost 10 billion people by 2050. We must double food production in order to meet demand without hiking up prices. How are we going to produce enough food to feed all of these people without destroying the planet?” Increasing food production to meet the demands of a growing population is presented as the ultimate conundrum. Proposed solutions are predominantly centered on increased reliance on technologies to maximize yields and feed ‘all of these hungry people’ as the population grows, accelerating at a seemingly unstoppable rate. Whatever new technologies or techniques are introduced, they are, first and foremost, measured along the metric of increasing yield. This narrative isn’t just misguided — it depoliticizes the problem, shifting blame in a dangerous way. The reality is that we have enough food on the planet to feed every human being a calorically complete and healthy diet. Contrary to popular belief, hunger is most often caused not by a lack of food but by a lack of access. With the amount of food we produce today, we could feed the highest population prediction of 10 billion people by 2050 — today. This has much more to do with economic inequality than anything to do with population. The people who cannot afford food are most often the people involved in growing it. The vast majority of the world’s impoverished people, most of whom live in rural areas, are involved in agriculture. This seems counterintuitive, but many farmers worldwide are net food buyers, meaning they do not subsist on the food they grow, they sell their crops and use that money to buy food for their families. When prices for crops are too low to offset input prices, when farmers face barriers to accessing markets or credit, or they are forced into exploitative contracts or other arrangements, farmers do not have adequate funds to purchase food for themselves and their families. This is the result of the long process of industrialization that has displaced millions of rural people and removed them from their traditional agricultural practices, replacing polycultures with monocultures. Perhaps the other most damning piece of evidence to counter the narrative that we must ramp up production to end hunger is that some cities have already ended it — without increasing yield. Belo Horizonte, one of the largest cities in Brazil, managed to virtually eliminate hunger through a network of policies addressing different facets of the issue. They expanded school meal programs; partnered with local small farmers to deliver produce to underserved parts of the city at fixed prices for staples; created subsidized restaurants where people could eat affordable, dignified meals, and a host of other policies. It never took more than 2 percent of their annual budget, and the whole transition took less than 10 years. It didn’t require corporations ‘innovating’ or developing expensive technologies. It required political will, the strengthening of governance systems, declaring food as a right of citizenship, and correcting for hunger as a market failure. We are choosing not to end hunger. Presenting it otherwise obscures the fact that it is, at its core, a matter of political will — not a matter of ability.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

When Meghan came on the scene the leaking blew up and I think everyone in the family knew that it was her and I think everyone saw how toxic she was to Harry and how abusive she was to staff & family & family friends and that is how she was told she wouldn’t become a working royal and wouldn’t get access to Charles’s Duchy of Cornwall funds as she wouldn’t be a working royal

She wouldn't have had access to the Duchy of Cornwall funds as a working royal anyway.

It's not been clear on how the finances worked with Charles but either he gave everyone an allowance (not sure how it was disbursed, like monthly or annually) or everyone reported their expenses and he paid reciepts.

He never gave anyone a checkbook or an unlimited credit card, which seems to be what a few people think may have been happening. There were absolutely restrictions on what they could spend. They were generous restrictions, but they were restrictions nonetheless.

[albertonykus]

Doraemon Movie Review: Nobita's Earth Symphony (2024)

What is Doraemon? The title character of the Doraemon manga and anime is a blue robotic cat from the 22nd Century who keeps an array of high-tech gadgets in a portable pocket dimension on his belly, and has traveled from the future to improve the fortunes of a hapless schoolboy named Nobita. Although relatively obscure in the English-speaking world, Doraemon is a Mickey-Mouse-level cultural icon in East Asia (and some other regions, too). The Doraemon franchise was a big part of my childhood, and there are still elements of it that I enjoy now.

Doraemon has released theatrical films almost annually since 1980, most of which involve Nobita and his friends (kind Shizuka, brash Gian, and crafty Suneo) getting swept into adventures thanks to Doraemon's gadgets. Despite being of potentially broad appeal to fans of science fiction and animated films, there are very few English reviews of the Doraemon movies, so I've embarked on a project to write about all the films, for as long as I continue watching them, at least.

For links to all of my Doraemon movie reviews, see here.

Movie premise: Nobita and his friends respond to a mysterious request seeking help from "talented musicians".

My spoiler-free take: A nice tribute to the human affinity for music, despite some issues with pacing.

POTENTIAL SPOILERS AFTER THIS POINT

Review: I was very intrigued when I first heard about the premise of this movie, because music is a theme that the Doraemon films had not really explored before. Having seen the movie now, I'm happy to report that I had a pretty good time! Beyond the handling of its main subject matter, I enjoyed that the foreshadowing here was surprisingly well thought out. There's so much setup in the beginning and middle of the story that pays off at the end. This includes the use of a gadget (the Future Diary) that would probably be considered "too overpowered" to be acknowledged in a typical Doraemon movie!

The film does have its flaws, of course, and the biggest in my opinion come down to the pacing. Several moments that are framed as emotional or dramatic are resolved or brushed aside too quickly, when they would've benefited from being given more time and gravitas. There's also some ending fatigue that kept me second-guessing, "Is this the climax? No, wait, is this the climax?"

However, the actual climax is quite nicely done and well worth experiencing in theaters for full effect. (It's a musical performance after all, as is pretty much a given in a movie about music.) As a tribute to the importance and appeal of music to humanity, I think the movie is very much a success.

As usual for a Doraemon movie, most of the character focus is on Nobita and his new movie-exclusive friends, but the rest of the main cast does have an active presence throughout. One thing I would've liked to see is more elaboration on why each character is deemed compatible with the instruments that they're assigned for their performances. Gian is said to be suited to playing the tuba due to his lung capacity, and the relevance of the recorder to Nobita's character arc is self-evident, but no such explanations are given for why Suneo gets the violin or why Shizuka is assigned to percussion.

Speaking of which, considering that Shizuka is the one main character who has an established affinity for playing musical instruments outside of school (she takes piano lessons and enjoys playing the violin, despite being bad at it), I'd hoped that she would play an important role in this movie. As it turns out... it would be a stretch to say that she's particularly important to the story, but the film did meet my bare minimum expectations for how much she would be involved. Her piano playing is relevant to the plot in one scene, and her poor violin skills also come up (albeit only during the end credits). Even so, it does feel like there were some missed opportunities; for example, maybe a scene where she wants to swap instruments with Suneo would've been funny. At the very least though, this movie doesn't contain a bath scene or any other similarly distasteful joke involving her, so that's good.

Star rating: ★★★☆☆