#anyway I blame South Park for popularizing this

[dandelion-stuff-and-fluff]

I swear to god, every time I read "your bladder and bowels empty when you die," I feel like curb stomping a kitten.

No.

Your muscles stop working. If you're actively contracting a sphincter muscle to hold in your urine or feces while you're alive, then yeah, some portion is probably gonna come on out to party once that muscle stops contracting.

If not? What the hell do you think is going to force them out? Most people cannot defecate on command on a good day, using all of their abdominal muscles (for real, tho, ask the makers of Ex-lax and Metamucil). If those abdominal muscles aren't working and there is no pressure built up from actively holding it in? lolNO

Maybe a little drizzle. A little poozle. A little drippy drip.

The foretold excremental explosion is not going to happen unless you JUMP ON THE DECEASED'S BELLY. Good luck with that.

Source: I working in a fucking anatomy lab and have spent too many hours of my life trying to prevent poop explosions and siphoning bladders dry with turkey basters to keep entertaining this nonsense.

[yanderes-galore]

Can I ask for a Jimmy Valmer concept?

At first I thought "How do I do this? Can he be yandere?"

After some thinking... maybe. Maybe he can. Aged up as usual. This has a few triggering themes but for some reason "comedian with a darling who's struggling" dynamic worked for this???

Yandere! Jimmy Valmer Concept

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Mentions of disabilities and Mental health, Violence, Implied depression on darling's end but it is vague, Implied Darling didn't like growing up in South Park, Manipulation, Obsession, Jealousy, Blood mention, Attempted murder, Dubious partnership.

I feel if Jimmy was a yandere he wouldn't be too intense.

He's optimistic and just likes making his darling happy?

He's so happy he's managed to have someone like you so close to him, as friends or lovers doesn't matter too much to him.

He's popular and successful, has been all his life despite his handicap.

Many know him for his comedy.

When he became an adult that's what he pursued.

He likes to make others laugh.

He is competitive, too.

He's well-liked and moral... although he does have a foul-mouth like a lot of people in South Park.

Jimmy met you at a comedy gig.

You're surprised he grew up in South Park.

He asks you why, you say it's because you grew up in South Park.

You admitted you never liked chatting with others in the town when you were younger and moved away when you could.

You were just happy Jimmy managed to find success.

How you two become friends is actually through the two of you sharing your experiences of South Park.

Jimmy assumes you never noticed each other as your experiences are so similar yet different.

That or you had a different class...

Either way, you seemed to be having a tough time in life and that's what brought you to him.

It was almost perfect... maybe you just needed a comedian friend to help you through troubling times?

It's strange... your experiences at South Park weren't remembered fondly, while his has its ups and downs but were positive.

South Park had such differing effects on the both of you.

Jimmy is Manipulative, Slightly jealous/competitive, Obsessive, Caring, yet has his violent tendencies.

Jimmy actually couldn't blame you... and his determination to improve your mood drove you to become friends.

People like Cartman along with other people in town could've been a bad experience for you.

He's very capable of functioning on his own.

He never judges your vents about South Park and you never judge him in general.

You two get along.

Jimmy invites you to all of his comedy shows.

Even if he doesn't have one he visits you to tell jokes anyways.

There's nothing wrong with the bond between you for the longest time.

Above all else, Jimmy is dedicated to the happiness of his darling.

Seeing you smile makes him smile....

Jimmy tries not to do anything that'd taint your happiness.

He compliments you, he jokes with you, he has an adoration for you that could be either platonic or romantic.

Jimmy's manipulation is unintentional at first.

He doesn't realize that he's become a metaphorical crutch for you to lean on emotionally.

He... doesn't mind it, either.

He actually likes it when you rely on him to make you happy as unhealthy as it becomes.

Jimmy actually likes the idea of being your reliable comedic partner so much he gets jealous when you make new friends at his shows.

He does show it, too.

He pouts and mutters under his breath while glaring at the person you're with.

He should be happy you're doing better.

For some reason he isn't....

A selfish thought... yet he still finds himself giving in and picking a fight with them after his show.

He's actually really good at fighting.

He can make people bleed... maybe even break a few bones.

Jimmy is only violent when provoked by jealousy.

It's never towards you.

Jimmy cares for you.

He only wants your smile regardless of how you feel about him.

He likes praise... yet the first time you hug him he is over the moon.

Jimmy would never kidnap.

Murder would be accidental but he is capable of it

Jimmy generally wants feelings to bloom between you naturally.

He's fine with just being friends, he's also fine with dating.

Jimmy actually hides his violence well.

Although the moment you catch him in the act of attacking someone... he hopes he can play victim well.

Jimmy wants to do anything to make your life a little bit easier.

Everything he does is to make you happy... so give him a smile, even if he's covered in blood.

[dubvexx]

It's funny how Family Guy and South Park have become so much more mainstream because tiktok and shorts exist, tell me a time when one of these shows was so popular everyone was watching them almost against their will..... Go on..... I'm waiting.

No but seriously, things like shorts and tiktok and reels just put out so much content that wasn't really popular before (of course family guy and south park aren't the best examples) but think about bluey, I don't know a single person who watched bluey before it blew up (everyone I know watches bluey or calls me a furry for watching the silly blue dog show which isn't necessarily a bad thing it's just not what I am).

I think that short content pushing new content could be good or bad like one bad example, whatever the hell skibidi toilet is, I can't escape hearing about this because the gen alpha kids won't shut up about it, just yesterday I was outside reading and heard a kid say, "Mommy mommy, have you seen the new skibidi toilet episode?" And that pissed me off because as a person who sort of believes our society might not fall at the hands of a toilet it's disappointing to see so many kids proving me wrong.

Don't get me wrong here, I'm not saying kids can't like what they want to, I'm saying it's a tad bit overboard when kids start jumping into hampers and pretending to be a toilet and getting "Skibidi withdrawals" (I heard some kid say that) I hear people in PUBLIC saying "Blame it on skibidi!" Or "Skibidi my friend!" And 'mewing' like, what the HELL even is mewing.

Anyway if you read all of this you're a trooper and thank you for listening to my rant for a few minutes. I hope you have a good day and remember, stay positive

I know this was a change of content but please give feedback in he comments. Belive it or not I had fun writing this.

[shpadoinkle-day]

Annoying Trey Parker

If you don't know who Trey Parker is, might I suggest that that huge, dark object over your head is a rock you've been under for three years and you should come out from under it? I've been a fan of Trey Parker and Matt Stone since seeing Alferd Packer: The Musical about four years ago. I missed out on South Park at first, but when I finally did start watching it, I had no idea it was also by Trey and Matt. It did make a lot of sense when someone finally told me...anywho, how did I get ahold of Trey Parker to ask him these questions? Well, back when I first started the old website, I had a bunch of South Park stuff up, and one of the things was a series of questions I'd ask Matt and Trey...but not really. They were mostly stupid things that were just jokes. Well, somehow, Trey found the site and answered all the questions. This is why he got out of my standard Bad Taste and Simpsons questions. Yes, I feel stupid, but since I am so good at looking like an ass, anyway, what's a little help from one of the world's best satirists?

Me: In the song ''Blame Canada,'' Terrance and Phillip are referred to as cartoons, yet they interact with the people of South Park. Does this mean that the people are all cartoons and aware of that fact, or was ''cartoon'' just a better word in the song than ''movie?''

Trey: Shiela said they are actors, but Cartman said they were animated, but the movie IS a cartoon, dude.

M: In the South Park movie, was Big Gay Al cast in an anti-Canadian role as a testimony to the fact that ANYONE can succumb to biases, or was it just a cheap way to bring back a popular character?

T: It's just funny that they like him because it's a gay guy at a USO Show, gay and army usually don't mix.

M: Since it hurts to do Cartman's voice, do you find yourself sometimes conciously reducing his part or writing him out all together?

T: No, Cartman is the one who says the politically incorrect stuff that nobody else has the balls to say.

M: Does it bother you that people are always curious if you're gay even though it has absolutely NO baring whatsoever on your work and is a completely meaningless, stupid thing to wonder?

T: They do?

M: So...are you gay?

T: No, you seem like a big fan, ever heard of Lianne or Toddy?

(Lianne is the horse in Alferd Packer, but I don't know who Toddy is...)

M: How come the South Park home videos are still censored?

T: The people at Rhino are dicks sometimes.

M: Was the re-use of the stage name ''Juan Schwartz'' on the Mr. Hankey CD a signal to long time fans that there will be a Cannibal 2, or was it just a way to try and hide the fact that you two do all the voices?

T: We have long time fans?

M: Why the fuck was Orgazmo NC-17? Was it the dog humping scene? Was that scene fun to shoot? If you had to shoot that scene again, would you pick a different breed?

T: There is an unrated version out there somewhere too.

M: Was South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut always going to be an attack on the biased, idiotic MPAA, or did that just evovle because they really suck?

T: Both, just another group we hadn't offended enough yet

M: Tell me, if a group is an ''advisory'' board for parents, giving out ''suggestions,'' how is it that NO ONE under 17 was allowed into South Park without an adult, when surely a suggestion implies that parents should not allow their children to see it, not that the theatres should become some sort of police state just to keep underagers from YOUR film?

T: Ask the wangs who sell the tickets.

M: Whenever Hitler appears, he is always speaking gibberish. Is this a statement that people will follow along with anything if it's said well, or merely an indication of your lack of German skills?

T: That is all Matt's fault!!

M: How annoying is it when fans spot ''goofs'' that are actually jokes and make a big deal about how you fucked up? Like if someone said that Mr. Garrison's history lessons are very inaccurate or something.

T: Some people are complete retards.

M: DVDA should release an EP or something. You've already got at least 3 songs down.

T: In our spare time, right?

M: I hope you didn't try to answer that last one, as it wasn't a question.

T: I hate you now.

M: Nor was that.

T: I want to hit you.

M: If you two could be any type of fish, would you prefer Scooby Doo or erasable pens?

T: I want to bitchslap you and shoot frozen paintballs at you.

[s0ulm8s]

boys like you (1.0)

✿ summary : alone and left in a mansion with nothing but your canvases and the dust slowly collecting on the window sills - a commission and a call from a childhood friend completely changes your life.

✿ genre : ot7 x f!reader, poly au, hybrid au, soulmate au, deer!seokjin, black panther!yoongi, great dane!hoseok, wolf!namjoon, calico cat!jimin, tiger!taehyung, bunny!jungkook

✿ warnings : mentions of death, maybe some mentions of assault, some fluff, reader is described as small (i.e smaller than jimin), slight age gap (reader is younger than jungkook)

✿ word count : 2.2K

✿ author’s note : i am inexperienced in hybrid aus, smut, and series so pls bare with me (not proofread yet)

✿ series masterlist! | 2.0

making yourself buckle down and work on the piece in front of you had proven to be more of a task than you had originally anticipated. the wide expanse of blank canvas you had stretched yourself 3 weeks ago, mocked you from the the sun room. it was only four days before you had to deliver your piece that you had really forced yourself to pick up a paint brush and do something useful.

the endless days spent alone in the vast building you now called home was doing a number on your psyche. the sheer loneliness seemed to eat away at not only your sanity but aided to your artist’s block - it was truly a gruesome cycle. locked away in an beautiful estate that you never asked for.

not only that, but working from home and having an all but nonexistent social life in a country you only permanently moved to a year prior was a fate worse than you had imagined.

you huffed, finally setting your small brush down on the easel, stepping back to assess your final draft. despite being so unmotivated and plum out of ideas, you were still proud of what you created - you had promised yourself long ago that you’d never sell a piece you abhorred, and you’d remained true to that promise thus far.

a blaring ring ripped you out of your critical trance trained on the landscape in front of you, startling you as your heartbeat quickened in pace.

“hello?” you answered, soft voice flowing through the other end as you anticipated the response from the unknown caller.

“yah! y/n! is that you?” the voice that responded was loud and excited, the baritone of it something you could never forget. a staple soundtrack from the summers you spent with your father in south korea.

“mingi? how’d you get my number?” you asked, a genuine smile flooding your face at the sound of his familiar laugh on the other end. 

of course, the two of you had stayed in brief contact since meeting as children. but as you grew, you saw less of each other. three years ago he and his boyfriend, yunho, had successfully started their own rehabilitation and adoption center for hybrids. the first year was hard, but the business quickly gained popularity and as the creator - he’d been exceptionally busy since her permanent move to south korea. they had two permanent doctors on staff, kim hongjoong and park seonghwa, along with a 24 hour staff. the workers were really exceptional, but you had only ever met their core group when the business first started. which included: choi san, jung wooyoung, choi jongho, kang yeosang, the two doctors, and of course the two owners.

“you were commissioned by a friend of mine! which is actually why i wanted to reach out.” he answered happily as your breathing evened and heartbeat finally settled.

“it’s good to hear from you, really. what can i do for you?” you asked sweetly, and mingi only briefly thought about teasing you for your soft tone and giving nature.

“would you be able to come to the adoption wing today? i’m working here all day as we’ve some new hybrids ready to find a new home. maybe in about an hour? you could join me on my rounds and we could talk. i’d like to see you, anyways. i’ve missed you.” mingi spoke professionally, but his admission made tears prick at your eyes. he almost sounded like the sixteen year old boy who had stolen your first kiss when visiting your father that summer and the memory of when things were simpler stung in your chest. your cheeks flushed. mingi smiled at your silence, knowing he had flustered his best childhood friend. you narrowed your eyes briefly, as he had tried to convince you many times in the past to adopt a hybrid of your own - but you had declined, not entirely convinced that you could provide an exceptional life for another being. because even though your knowledge on hybrids wasn't nearly as advanced as mingi’s, you still knew the basics. they weren't just animals, they were human. and there was no guarantee there. there never was with humans. you hesitate.

“y-yes. i can come by, i’ve just got to swing by and deliver my painting beforehand.” you answered as you both agreed on the meeting the time. “oh, and mingi? i’ve missed you, too.” you said genuinely as he broke into a toothy smile. it had been ages since he’d seen you, and though he knew he could blame it on his work - he didn’t know how to face you after the death of your father. he couldn’t bring himself to be there for you, to see you so broken, and he had blamed himself for that everyday. it was a relief to hear you say it. you had always been so forgiving, sometimes to a fault.

after bidding your goodbyes to the tall boy on the other side of the phone, you quickly changed clothes into something not completely ruined by the muted pigments of your paint, loaded up in your small suv, and you were off.

the delivery of your piece went smoothly, no heckling or disapproving gazes from the wealthy couple, which made your trip to TWILIGHT that much faster. you pushed open the double doors connected to the building in the right wing, clearly labeled ADOPTION. 

the smell of roses and lavender was strong in the reception area, the scent was welcoming and calming as you walked up to the front desk. 

“y/n!” the dark haired boy behind the computer called, finally rolling away from behind the screen. kang yeosang. “it’s so good to see you!” he exclaimed, eyes scanning your face as he made his way around the counter and pulled you into a soft embrace.

“likewise, yeo! it’s been a while hasn't it?” you ask rhetorically as you stare up at his daunting height.

“mmm” he hummed with a nod, releasing you. “i'll let mingi know you’re here.” he called, returning to his place behind the sleek desk, paging mingi, and then proceeding to catch up with you.

the small conversation didn’t last long before a pair of heavy footsteps drug your gaze to the wide staircase, mingi barreling down them.

you braced yourself as the giant scooped you up into a bone crushing embrace, spinning your small frame around in a circle as he let out a happy laugh. your arms snaked around the man’s neck to secure your place and return the hug.

you giggled happily as mingi finally set you down in your original place, looking down at you excitedly. had he gotten taller? impossible. maybe you had shrunk?

after an exchange of excited greetings, mingi gestured to his clipboard before finally asking, “you ready?”

you nodded softly and followed close behind as he guided you down the halls of the adoption center. he gave you the rundown of their center, showing you the wide expanse of spotless rooms sealed in by plexiglass to show the hybrids ready to be rescued. he explained that most hybrids were separated by predator, prey, species, breed, etc. but many were grouped together with their respective packs. the rooms were quite lavish, but not very homey. but what could you expect from an adoption clinic? the point was to find homes.

you passed many show exhibits, watching intently at the small dogs or tall humans sitting in the rooms patiently, playing with one another or napping quietly. you cooed at a few.

“so i asked to see you because i’d love to have your art displayed in our business.” he propositioned, leading you into an empty room as the automatic doors opened and shut behind you. you nodded, heart lurching a bit as you recalled your artist’s block. you shook the thought away as you observed the room. it was large, littered with scattered pieces of nice furniture and random toys. “ideally, i’d love to have your pieces throughout the whole establishment but this is my main concern.” he finished, gesturing to the empty space on the large wall, the one you’re faced with when first entering.

“are you wanting a mural?” you ask, voice now stable and a bit louder. 

“i'd like the piece to cover the majority of the wall, but i’d rather have it on canvas if that’s doable. in case it needs to be moved.” he explained as you nodded, taking in rough measurements of the space as mingi explained his vision for the space - effectively helping you circulate a few ideas on what you could create. you accepted his offer as he discussed payment and supplies with you, adding in an extra cost at the large measurement of the canvas you’d need custom made.

the air in the room grew a bit thick at the sound of a small beep, alerting the two of you to another door opening. your skin was now a bit hot and you suddenly became very aware of your surroundings. your fingers tingled a bit. usually a foreign feeling such as the one you were experiencing would send you into a panic, but it didn’t. if anything you felt quite calm as you looked on inquisitively at the distant thump coming toward the two of you.

“ah, it’s look like some of our hybrids are finished with their check ups.” mingi announced as you nodded lazily. he turned to you. “we usually send them into the lounge area for about an hour after routine check ups. helps them calm down.”

suddenly, you could pay no mind to mingi’s words as a black bunny rounded the corner, back foot slapping the tile exceptionally hard every so often as you smiled down at the creature happily. it stopped in it’s tracks as it’s gaze landed upon you, rearing up on it’s back legs, and tilting it’s head innocently as it examined you. 

you knelt down to greet him, the bunny immediately approaching you and sniffing your hand before accepting you and nuzzling into you closer. mingi was taken aback as he observed the usually reserved and nervous rabbit.

“hello.” you cooed, stroking the bunny effortlessly, careful to avoid his ears and tail, briefly recalling how sensitive they could be. “what’s your name?” you asked as mingi coughed.

“this is jeongguk, he’s one of our younger hyrbrids. the youngest in his pack.” he told you as you picked the bunny up and set him into your small lap. mingi almost gasped at the interaction between you and the rabbit as you pet him happily.

your trance was interrupted at the light purr and brush of a small calico next to you. you instinctively reach out to pet him, as he rubbed into your hand. “and who might you be?”

“this is jimin, the two are in a pack.” mingi attempted to explain, trying to understand the absence of jimin’s usually protective behavior and unable to tell you the full story before you asked him something he was not expecting.

“and they’re ready to be adopted?” you asked softly, not even looking up at mingi as he stuttered. the idea of adopting a hybrid didn’t seem so far-fetched now at how taken you were with the two animals in your lap. you could handle the bunny and cat, without a doubt.

“y-yes but we only adopt out entire packs together and -”

“of course, i wouldn’t dream of separating them. is there anyway i could meet them properly, as soon as i possible i think -” you interrupt. starting to gush a bit, voice hushed and excitable.

mingi cut you off, “no, y/n. you aren’t listening. they aren’t just a pack of two.” he sighed, as your gaze finally met his. “in fact they aren’t just bunny and calico, they’re pack also includes that of a wolf, black panther, deer, great dane, and tiger... their pack has been hard to adopt out as it’s so rare for such a large mix of predators and prey... but they found each other and experienced a lot together... it was only inevitable. and we can’t separate them, we refuse to. and they won’t leave one another.” he finally finished explaining as your expression fell. you let out a breath. seven hybrids. all male. and three apex predators, at that. the thought of suddenly thrusting seven knew faces - seven new men - into your home was intimidating to say the least.

you looked down at the two animals in your lap, the bunny almost looked cresfallen. gauging your reaction as his big brown eyes stared at you expectantly. as if he knew you’d reject him. mingi continued rambling on about how many adopters had expressed interest in at least one of the pack but were never willing to bring in all seven. it hurt your heart as you watched on the bunny and calico.

the estate your father had left you was empty, though. begging to be occupied. you had more than enough room and were blessed with an untouched inheritance. maybe this is what you should use it for. you had always felt too guilty to spend it. but nothing seemed more right, which was a shocking realization to someone who never thought they’d adobt a hybrid.

“could i meet them? the seven of them? i’d at least want to give them a chance... truthfully, i dont think i can leave them behind.” you admitted softly, the bunny and cat both perked up, ears raised and twitching.

“of course. i can arrange a meeting and speak with them tonight... i’ll gather their files for you to take home tonight. can you make it back in again tomorrow?” mingi asked after a deafening pause of hesitation, mouth hanging agape before coming back into reality.

“i’ll be here.”

[thiswasinevitableid]

2 bathtub and 9 folklore, sternclay, sfw, please!

Here you go! Barclay's design is based on a blue catfish.

He wanted the bigfoot assignment. Days spent tramping through the chilly forests of the pacific northwest instead of sweating off a pound a day in Louisiana swamps. But no, he’s assigned to the Loup Garou case until further notice, because one mammalian cryptid expert is as good as another.

It’s not like he’s devoted most of his career to bigfoot or anything.

Contrary to popular belief, FBI agents do not spend all their time in suits. As much as Stern aims to emulate Special Agent Dale Cooper, slacks and a suit jacket are not suitable for tromping through the mud and staving off the humidity. Between his outdoor wear and the tranquilizer rifle over his shoulder, he looks like he could be in some shitty seventies Sasquatch hunting movie.

His best lead is the strange, black fur he found near the location of the most recent sighting, and the ranger in the nearby national park assured him it didn’t come from any common wildlife. So it could be a human cursed to transform into a wolf every night. Or it could just be someone’s dog.

Dusk has come and gone before he turns back towards his cabin, rented for it’s proximity to the supposedly-Loup-Garou-harboring swamp and the reviews citing good water pressure and a large tub. Nothing like a nice bath or cold shower to wash off the heat and grime of the day.

A crack in the trees to his right. There’s something moving, paralleling him. He stops, nerves taught as a drawn bow.

The growl starts low, draws his eyes to a dark-furred shape creeping from the brush. It’s definitely canine, definitely bigger than him, and definitely sees him as dinner. Stern holds his ground, raises the rifle, not willing to fire until he’s certain this is his quarry. All doubts evaporate when it stands on its hind legs and howls. Human eyes lock onto him as the monster stalks forward.

Stern fires, hitting the werewolf in the shoulder. It doesn’t so much as stumble.

“Shit” He loads another dart, fires, and gets the exact same result. There’s no chance of outrunning it, and while he has his handgun he doesn’t want to resort to that unless he absolutely has to.

The creature lunges and Stern dodges, slipping into the water as a result. It swipes a claw out, which he keeps from his face by blocking it with the body of the rifle. His brief hope that the creature can’t swim is quashed when it prowls into the water after him. Something huge swim past his legs and he winces; if he dies by alligator instead of werewolf he’ll never hear the end of it.

As the monster surges forward, something huge bursts from the water between them, knocking Stern off balance in the process. His head goes under and when he scrambles up, spluttering, the werewolf is limping as fast as it can into the undergrowth. And floating face-down in front of him is a man, four jagged rips in his side tinting the water around them a sickly red.

“Sir?” Stern rolls the man over and, in spite of all his training, exclaims, “holy shit.”

The man doesn’t have legs. His hips give way to a smooth, grey-blue tail that twitches weakly when Stern touches him. The wound is visible here too, marring tail and torso alike. It doesn’t take a genius to put together what happened. Or that the Loup Garou won’t make it far with the bite the merman delivered. He could catch it. But he doubts the mer in front of him will survive without medical attention.

He loops his arms under a limp body and makes a mental note to never, ever tell Agent Hayes about this.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Barclays’ whole side is burning.

“Ow, Aubrey, easy with the healing.” He groans, rolling away from the feeling and immediately bonking his head on something cold and solid. Cracking an eye open reveals a white tub and wooden wall. Cautiously, he glances at his stomach and side and finds it bandaged. When he manages another half-turn, he finds a dark-wood bathroom with a human slumped against the wall. It’s the one he saved, though he’s down to a thin white shirt and what he knows to be boxers. For all the blood there must have been, the room and tub are spotless.

He raises up, hoping for a better look at a handsome face, only to catch his side on the edge of the tub.

“OWfuck!”

The man jolts awake, is by Barclay’s side in an instant, “Thank the lord, I was worried you’d lost too much blood to pull through.” He runs a hand through his black hair, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, I was trying to monitor you for signs I’d have to give up and call the paramedics. I, um, assumed you didn’t want to just be dragged into a human hospital.”

“Yeah, no, not my fave.” His tail flutters awkwardly, “uh, why did you bring me here, then?”

“Because I wasn’t going to leave you to bleed out in a swamp. I learned field medicine for a reason; it’s nice to use it on someone other than myself. Or, well, not nice, but, um-”

“No, I get it. It’s just that, uh, I have lots of friends in the swamp. One of them probably woulda found me. You didn’t have to go to all this trouble or put me in a tub.”

“Oh.” The human sags a little, his confident smile faltering a moment.

“I mean, I really appreciate it. And it looks like you’re good at, uh, stitches and stuff.” He rubs his arms, “uh, sorry. I’m not used to waking up in unfamiliar guys bathtubs.”

“I’m not in the habit of keeping mermen in my tub so, um, I guess we’re even?” His smile is a little shyer, blue eyes reminding Barclay of a spring sky.

The mer holds out the hand on his uninjured side, “I’m Barclay.”

“Joseph” The man shakes it, “it’s nice to meet you. Is, um, is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable? Is the water alright? I can go get some from the swamp if that would be better.”

“As long as I don’t dry out I’ll be fine. Uh, do you have any food?”

“Some groceries, but if you want something specific I can run into town.”

Barclay weighs his hunger and wooziness against the desire not to reveal too much, and his stomach emerges triumphant, “Does this place have a take-out menu for the South Bank Cafe?”

“I...think so? Let me look” The human stands, walking out into another room on long legs that Barclay wants to loop around his waist, continues speaking as paper rustles, “I didn't know merpeople used take-out.”

“Uh, when they live close to humans they do. As long as some of those humans are willing to pick it up.”

Joseph returns, familiar pink menu in one hand and phone in the other, “What would you like?”

“Three fried oyster po’boys please.”

The human orders four of the sandwiches and some coconut cream pie on Barclay’s suggestion leaves the mer to nap while he goes to retrieve it. Charmingly, he puts all the food onto plates and pours the bottled sweet tea into glasses before arranging it on the bathroom floor.

“Cheers.” Joseph raises his glass. Barclay hesitates, trying to remember which human ritual this is, then clinks his own against it.

They barely talk until the plates are clean and Joseph is luxuriating in a second slice of pie, at which point the human explains what the fuck he was doing looking for a rougarou anyway. Barclay has given up on his desire to study the humans face as he eats and is laying on his back, eyes shut, feeling full and content in spite of the nagging pain in his side. Joseph reluctantly gave him painkillers, explaining he was worried about how human medicine would interact with mer biology. So far, all it’s done is made him drowsy.

“Barclay? Why did you get between me and the Loup Garou?”

“Because I didn’t want you to get killed. Like, for starters, I don’t want people to get hurt, and rougarous are nasty fuckers. But also when someone dies in the swamps, a lot of people blame mers for it. So it’s better if we keep humans from getting eaten on our turf.” He feels around for his tea, finds it when Joseph sets cool glass in his hand. His whole body is heavy.

A soft laugh, “Drugs kicking in?”

“Uh huh.”

A scuff as Joseph stands, “I’ll leave you to get some rest. I’m just in the next room, if you need me.” Two steps, then a pause, “actually, let me drain the tub some and put fresh water in.”

Barclay’s pretty sure he says thank you before he falls asleep.

---------------------------------------------------

Joseph wakes up at the cursing coming through the walls. Rounding the corner into the bathroom, he finds Barclay clutching his upper tail with one hand, gritting his teeth.

“What’s wrong?”

“Cramp, really fucking bad one, tends to happen when I get injured and can’t swim. Fuck me if I know why.”

“Here” he kneels next to the tub, water splashing onto his white tank top, “let me try rubbing it out. Is this the spot?”

“YeahOWoh, ohhhfuck” Barclay whimpers, “that’s helping, please keep going.”

He moves his fingers down the smooth skin, muscles spasming under his hands before they surrender to relaxation. Gradually Barclay un-tenses, his whimpers giving way to sighs, and Joseph isn’t really tending to his charlie horse anymore; he’s just petting his tail.

“Thanks, Jo-”

A scratch outside freezes them both. Joseph holds up his hand, signalling for Barclay to stay quiet. It’s the window. Something is opening the window. Worse, a count of five later, the cabin groans as something heavy reaches the floor.

His gun is in the other room, because he’s not about to sleep with it on his person. To get to it, he’ll have to put himself right in the path of the intruder dragging themselves across the floor.

The door creaks open, revealing red eyes in the darkness of the cabin.

“Shit.” He starts to stand, keeping himself between the threat and Barclay.

“There you are. Goodness, we were all worried sick.”

Joseph stays still, but Barclay tries to sit up, “Indrid!”

Their visitor slithers into the room, his upper body human but his tail reminding Stern of a Cottonmouth, “We’ve been looking for you all day; Dani found blood at your watch site but not you. I even swam to the park to ask Duck if he’d seen you.”

“Uh huh, I’m sure that was your only reason.”

“Hush.” He turns his alarming gaze on Joseph, “I saw you ending up with this human in many timelines, but I put off following them for fear of being seen. But he’s taking this rather well.”

“I’m an FBI agent with the UP. Handling strange phenomena with grace is basically my job.”

“Intriguing.” Indrid cocks his head, then his face goes blank for a moment. When life returns to it, he coils his tail to settle next to Barclay, “it seems the most positive timelines occur if you continue your convalescence here. In that case, I’ll leave you be and let the others know you’re alright. I’ll stop by again in a few days. And yes, Joseph, since you’re about to ask, I will knock this time.”

----------------------------------------------------------

Barclay spends most of the next three days eating and sleeping, the combination of pain and painkillers making him sluggish. Joseph is better company than he ever could have hoped for, changing his bandages and sharing meals while regaling him with stories of the world beyond the swamps.

The human rises early, so he’s usually gone to work by the time Barclay wakes up. He’s feeling better this morning, so his internal clock wakes him just as the sound of water in the sink fills the room.

Joseph is bent over, naked from the waist up and using a coffee mug to dump water onto his hair. Beside him is a tube labeled, “compact body wipes.”

“Uh, what are you doing?”

The human starts, but then replies, “getting ready for the day. I have to go into town to meet with the sheriff about this case.”

“Can’t you just use the tub? I can make room, it’s big enough for both of us.”

Joseph’s whole torso is going pink, “I, um, assumed you didn’t want me randomly turning up in your space naked.”

He shrugs, “I’m naked right now.”

“Right.” Joseph gingerly sets the mug down, “right. I guess you are. Um. I don’t mean to be rude, since this is mainly a difference in mer and human culture, but would you be willing to close your eyes while I shower?”

Barclay nods, scoots to the far end of the tub while Joseph pulls the plug to keep the bath from overflowing. Then he shuts his eyes, focuses on the splashes up his legs, the change in the tempo of the falling water that signals it hitting a human body. Joseph showers efficiently, turns the steam mint scented with one of the bottles he keeps in the corner of the tub. Then he’s telling Barclay to open his eyes, towel wrapped around his waist and smile on his face.

“I feel much better.”

Barclay doesn’t bother to hide his staring, “Me too.”

---------------------------------------

Joseph hasn’t liked bathtime this much since his uncle gave him that rubber Nessie bath toy when he was five. Barclay is a much more enjoyable companion, even with his eyes closed. Joseph's also taken to wearing swim trunks and just sitting with him in the tub under the pretense of cooling off from the heat.

It’s not like his morning or evening rinse off lacks competition; Barclay is well enough that, through the use of a wheelbarrow, he can take trips to the back porch of the cabin to swim. His strength has weakened as a result of bedrest, but he’s improving quickly, and Joseph will often end up in the water with him to help him with particular stretches.

The first time another mer pops out of the water, he jumps with a combination of joy and alarm. Courtesy of Indrid, all the merfolk in the area know Joseph is trustworthy, which means he has even more people to question for his research. This is especially good because it means he and Barclay can talk about things other than work when they’re together. Barclay’s friends also offer information about the Loup Garou. So much, in fact, that Joseph determines there is something much larger than a single monster at play and is able to convince Hayes to let him continue the investigation indefinitely until he finds his answers.

When he gets the okay from his boss, he and Barclay celebrate with a massive dinner on the deck. As the mer hauls himself up out of the water after his final dip he slips, splashing sideways into a muddy patch. By the time Joseph gets them both inside, their skin and clothes are a mess.

“Here, let me rinse us off before I fill the tub for you.” Joseph turns on the shower, awkwardly straddling Barclay’s tail as he reaches to detach the head. He knows the mer is staring at him, his usually gentle gaze gaining an edge the way it always does when Joseph is down to his underwear or swim trunks. It doesn’t bother him; it seems a fair trade off for all the times he’s admired Barclays back and tail as he swam.

He turns, intending to hand the showerhead to the mer, only to lose his footing to a splotch of mud. It’s a graceless landing on his knees and Barclays’s tail, narrowly missing the fresh scar.

“Shit, that was close.”

“No kidding.” Barclay picks up the showerhead, turning it to a softer setting and rinsing off his tail. A teasing edge enters his rumble, “careful, might think you’re looking for ways to keep me here forever.”

“I guarantee none of them involve hurting you” he shuts his eyes as he lets the mer clean his neck. Then snaps them open when Barclay chuckles.

“That mean you have thought of some.”

“Yes. Not, um, not that I’d ever act on them. As much as I love your company, I don’t want you stuck in my tub forever.”

“You just want me to visit every day?”

“Um-”

“Or take you swimming in the evenings?”

“I-”

“Or let me finally watch you shower with my eyes open?” He flicks his tail playfully.

“I’ll admit all those crossed...my...mind.” Time turns to ice as Barclay leads forward, nuzzling his nose before bringing their lips together.

“Crossed mine too. I was so happy when you said you were staying.” He strokes Joseph’s cheek, “there’s so many fucking things I wanna do with you now that I’m getting better.”

“How many of them involve this tub?” Joseph kisses a teasing line across his cheek.

An adoring growl, “Plenty, babe.”

[dontshootmespence]

Supernatural AU: Episode 4 - Devoid

Part 2

It took a full two days of little food, few stops for gas and even less sleep for them to make it to Hardin, Montana. “Cops, nap, research,” Dean said, pulling off the exit ramp. 

“No, research, cops, nap,” Bobbie replied. They needed to get ahead of whatever this was.

Sam barely even opened his eyes in the backseat, but he was insistent. “Both wrong. We’re all about to pass out. Let’s grab a motel room and power nap for 30 or 40 minutes, then we can go to the cops and gather the information we need so the research we do doesn’t get influenced in any way. It makes the most sense…and I’m too tired for this shit.”

She wanted to fight it, but Sam was right. They were all exhausted – physically and emotionally. No matter how mad she was at their father, if he felt there was a job here, there probably was – and she wanted to get to it. But they’d booked it here so fast that the need for sleep was outweighing everything else, so the second Dean saw a motel in Hardin he pulled into a parking lot, they gave their fake credit cards in for a room and crapped out. It was nearly an hour and a half later than Bobbie woke up in a cold sweat.

She screamed so loud that Sam and Dean shot up from the bed and the couch. “What the hell was that?” Sam asked.

Dean replied while his sister tried to catch a breath. “Nightmare. She always has one of two. One is about the night mom died and the other she won’t tell me.”

Sam glanced her way expectantly. “You always tell us you want us to be open about this kind of shit and then you keep that inside?”

Bobbie wiped her forehead, the sweat cool to the touch and clammy. “I’ll make you a deal, Sammy. You tell me what’s been keeping you up at night lately, and give me more than ‘nightmares about Jessica’ and I’ll give you a peek into my fucked up brain.”

Without missing a beat, Sam spat out that he blamed himself for what happened with Jess – not that he could’ve stopped it considering they didn’t know what it was – but he did have the dreams and said nothing and had accompanied Dean and herself, leaving Jessica all alone. “It was not your fault and you know it.”

“And undoubtedly whatever is going on in your head isn’t your fault either, but you’re blaming yourself, huh?” Sam was determined to get something out of her, even though opening himself up so candidly had taken even him off guard. “So what are you blaming yourself for Bobbie?”

“Nothing,” she replied, grabbing a glass of water and gulping it down in three or four big sips. “Yet. The other dream I have, besides Mom, is always about you two.”

“What?” Dean’s head left his hands and turned toward her. “What about us?”

“It’s always the same. I’m not getting deep into it now because we have work to do, but it always involves you two fighting in the Impala, me mediating and then you Dean, crashing the car. It spins out and we all end up in a lake. You’re both stuck in your seatbelts and I can’t get you out. I live. You die. There’s a voice telling me ‘it’s all your fault, you’ve failed me’ and then I wake up,” she said quickly, her voice shaking with each word. She didn’t want to recount this again. She didn’t want to think about it. With her eyes open, neither Dean nor Sammy could reach out for her as they took their last breath – not if she had anything to say about it. “Let’s get going, okay?”

“Bobbie, you have to-“ Sam started, but she cut him off with the flick of her hand.

“There’s nothing I can do about it, so let’s stop talking about it and focus on some people that need our help.”

Dean wasn’t about to let it go and neither was Sam, but they knew better than to test her right now.  “Okay, let’s go.”

-

After introducing themselves to the local police as Agents Acer, Vanir and Laird, Dean asked Chief Goldstein if he could tell them anything about the child suicides in the area. “Anything you can tell us would be helpful.”

“Is this even in your jurisdiction?” He asked.

“Believe it or not yes,” Sam replied quickly. “The FBI sometimes conducts what we call an equivocal death investigation, which basically means the case has lingering questions. We can end up classifying the deaths as homicides, suicides, natural causes, accidents or something unknown. This fits that perfectly considering the kids were all so young and so well adjusted.”

With his question answered, Goldstein pulled out the files on the three children that had died over the course of the past six weeks. “Mia Thomas was seven and drowned in a lake. Her parents claim she was a fantastic swimmer. Nathan Cope was eight years old and found hanging in his closet and Otis Wickens jumped out the window of his doctor’s office building.”

Sam shivered at the image of the latest child jumping out of a building. What could possibly have been so horrible that he would not only take his life, but take it in such a way?

“And none of them had any issues at school? No bullies? Family life okay?” Bobbie questioned. The most likely reason for child suicide would’ve been bullying if she had to put money on it. Either that or issues at home. If it wasn’t that, something supernatural was her next best guess. “Nothing out of the ordinary?”

He repeated himself, saying nothing was wrong with any of the children. Otis had gone first, he was also eight. Nathan next and Mia last. “Otis and Nathan were in the same class,” he said. “So maybe you want to start there.”

“Okay, thanks Chief,” Dean said. “We’ll keep you updated.”

Outside the station, Bobbie, Dean and Sam decided to head over to the Wickens’ house first to see if they could interview the grieving parents. The loss of a child had to be the scariest thing Bobbie could think of. “So what do we think this is?” Sam asked. “If it is something supernatural.”

“Maybe a witch,” Dean said. “The parents are being targeted by way of their kids.”

Bobbie was off in her own world in Baby’s passenger seat. “Possibly, but wouldn’t a witch make it look like an accident or natural so it wouldn’t raise any questions?”

“Could be a dumb witch?” Dean replied, grasping at straws. “The fact that it’s suicide is what you’re hung up on, right?”

“Yea, it’s just…” Her head was pounding, flashes from her ever-present nightmare sporadically running in and out of her brain. “Something’s up.”

-

Stepping up to the Wickens’ home was like stepping toward an open grave. At a closed grave, someone could leave flowers, say a few words, apologize for wrongdoings if there were anyway, but the death was done, smoothed over like the grass that grew on the ground above. At an open grave, death wasn’t real yet, it was like there was still a ray of hope in the air, but a ray of hope that could never actually be fulfilled. It was still too raw to be fully comprehended. It was a ray of hope purely for the sake of pain. The family’s next door neighbors, the entire street seemed like it was at a standstill so that the Wickens could grieve and eventually shovel the dirt into the grave, allowing them all to ‘get back to normal.’ “Let me,” Bobbie said, knocking lightly on the door. “Mr. and Mrs. Wickens? I’m Agent Acer, these are Vanir and Laird. We’re from the FBI.”

“You’re here about Otis?” His mother said, a tear falling from the corner of her eye. “Do we have to go over this again?”

Bobbie was about to reply when Dean chimed in. “Mrs. Wickens, we’re here because the same thing happened to two other children in the area. We’re trying to see if there’s a connection.” His voice was soft and Bobbie could see that he was looking at her in his periphery. “There might be something that could explain why things happened the way they did. Give you some kind of relief.”

A hint of gratitude could be seen, but nothing would bring back her child and that was all she wanted. “I don’t think that’s possible. But please, come in.”

Mr. Wickens came to join her on the couch, fingers intertwined and clinging to each other like they were alone in an open sea. “Can you tell us exactly what happened?” Sam started. “Not at the doctor’s office,” he clarified. “Beforehand. How did his personality change? When did it change?”

“Otis was the happiest boy in the world,” Mr. Wickens began. “He loved soccer and science. Was convinced he was going to be the world’s first professional soccer playing scientist when he got older so he could do it all and then his mood turned sour.”

“When?” Dean asked.

“About three weeks ago?”

Over the next three weeks Otis got worse and worse until that day at the doctor’s office. “Did anything out of the ordinary happen around the time the mood change happened?” Bobbie asked, catching a glimpse of a picture of the happy family and hating how anyone, any deity, could let something so awful happen to another.

“For a couple of weeks he had nightmares,” his father answered. “About a fire in the house. He never really had nightmares, but that was it in terms of anything out of the ordinary.”

They asked a few more questions, getting it from the source that nothing was happening in school or at home. Brian and Tina Wickens were happily married. They’d had no issues at either of their jobs, so money was secure and Otis had been excelling in school, both intellectually and socially. “Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Wickens,” Sam said before they made their way out.

Back in the Impala, Dean asked if they had any ideas. “Because I’m more confused than ever.”

“Me too,” Sam replied.

Bobbie had no idea either. “We still have too little information. Let’s interview the Thomas’ and the Cope family first.”

-

Back at the room later that night, the three siblings poured over the information they had. “All three kids were popular, smart, happy kids, their moods went south and then they ended it all,” Dean said exasperatedly as he paced the floor in front of the two beds. It was taking everything in him not to grab another beer, but he needed to think straight right now. “At seven and eight years old. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“What if this isn’t supernatural?” Sam asked.

Of course it was a possibility, but what else could it be? “It’s not homicide because none of them had any other DNA on them other then their own,” Bobbie started, glancing at the papers that Sam had been able to find by hacking the county’s medical system. “The Thomas girl’s drowning could be considered an accident, save for the fact that the parents insist she was a great swimmer. But accidents wouldn’t account for either of the boys’ deaths, because the manners in which they died were far too deliberate. Natural causes could mean it’s some kind of medical issue, but if that were the case, it’s pretty likely that more children would be affected. That leaves us with suicide and unknown cause of death.”

Sam shook his head, his hands clasped in front of his face. “So either, these kids were hiding feelings so tortured that there parents didn’t know and then suffered alone until they killed themselves, or it’s something supernatural that causes suicidal thoughts?”

Dean and Bobbie nodded sadly. Silence hung in the air for a moment until Sam’s eyes went wide. “Wait…”

“What is it?” Dean watched his brother sprint across the room to the bag that held John’s journal. “You think Dad has the answer in there?”

“Possibly,” he said, licking the tips of his fingers as he quickly flipped through the pages. “Here! ‘Bobby and Rufus came across one once apparently, but I still never have. I’m glad I haven’t because I’m not positive I’d know how to kill it.’”

When he turned the journal toward them, the older Winchesters saw a picture of a chimera-looking thing – a monster made up of various animals’ body parts. “A chimera?” Dean asked.

Sam shook his head. “Kind of, but not exactly. A Baku.”

@remember-me-forever-silent-angel @gaylemonshark  @marveldivergentouatdctvfangirl @lalirang @averagekansan @addsomesalt @stusbunker @sebba-hiddles @fanfictionrecommendations-com @hoppy519 @thatwrestlingfan91 @extremeobsessions101 @spence-imagines @bettercallsabs @whaaatthefuuuuck @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @your-imagination-runs-wild @cryinglots @steggy01 @gigilame @sedulous-mind @a-unique-girls-heaven @just-antiyou @rmmalta @original-criminal-fanfics @ties-n-suits @veroinnumera @eurusholmmes @fanficienjoyedreading @astridstark13​ @ties-n-suits​ @demonlover87​ @kennybud​ @shittyafblogwnopoint​ @pleasantlyfadingpeace​ @bulldozed88 @a-gir1-has-n0-name​

[purpleshirtminion-blog]

Netflixs Disenchantment...

Ok anyone who follows me knows I LOVE the concept of an animated fantasy series not geared towards children and I should be thrilled that one is being made...shouldn't I? https://youtu.be/Gp_RnJcb8Ig

But then I saw the trailer and it just doesn't do it for me. I mean, is it just me or does this seem like a blander version of Futurama? I know it was popular, (Hell I used to watch it all the time) but when I want to watch Futurama, I'll go watch Futurama.

Also, while I realize that Matt Groening isn't going to change his art style at this point in his career, when you pair his "ugly" style with the absolutely gorgeous backgrounds that I saw in the trailer, it just doesn't fit. I know it's a nitpick, but it really distracted me.

Finally, I want to talk about the humor. For all the stabbing, explosions and "dark humor" that the trailer showed us, it felt incredibly "safe". Maybe it's because I've seen this kind of humor in adult animation for so long that seeing it again, even in an allegedly "new" format just makes it boring. Forced, even.

BUT I do hope it its successful. And I hope it inspires even more creators to do something even better with this concept, because God knows we don't need yet ANOTHER Family Guy/South Park knock off in the world.

But on the other hand, if it does badly, will the show runners blame the genre? I don't want the entire genre of fantasy being treated like a death sentence because Matt Groening made a bad product.

I kind of wish they'd gotten the folks from Critical Role to write this instead. Now THOSE guys understand fantasy on all of its levels! I'd absolutely watch Vox Machina or the Mighty Nein as an animated series! Even in Groenings style!

Ok, I'll stop with the gifs. But do you see what I mean about understanding fantasy? I don't get the feeling that Matt Groening does...

Anyway, just needed to get that off my chest. What do you all think of Disenchantment? Do you agree? Disagree? I'd love to know your thoughts and opinions!

❤❤❤

[patriotsnet]

Why Are Republicans So Afraid Of Trump

New Post has been published on https://www.patriotsnet.com/why-are-republicans-so-afraid-of-trump/

Why Are Republicans So Afraid Of Trump

Officer Goes From ‘sadness’ To ‘rage’

Why Are Republicans Still So Afraid Of Trump? | The 11th Hour | MSNBC

Sicknicks partner on the Capitol police, Sandra Garza, wrote an essay about the attack and the aftermath in which she said in part, I saw officers being brutalized and beaten, and protesters defying orders to stay back from entering the Capitol. All the while, I kept thinking, Where is the President? Why is it taking so long for the National Guard to arrive? Where is the cavalry!?

She added, As the months passed, my deep sadness turned to outright rage as I watched Republican members of Congress lie on TV and in remarks to reporters and constituents about what happened that day. Over and over they denied the monstrous acts committed by violent protesters.;

For example, when Gosar called the Jan. 6 attackers peaceful patriots.

During the Benghazi hearings, Republicans were laser-focused on trying to place blame on then-Secretary of State Hillary Clinton. But after four years of investigations, most of them purely partisan affairs, they found no evidence of criminal wrongdoing on her part.

Republicans dont want anything close to that type of scrutiny on the Capitol attacks of Jan. 6. In fact, they dont seem to want any scrutiny at all.

Almost as if they know what will be found.

Almost as if I didnt have to use the word almost.

Reach Montini at .

Trump Is Here To Stay And Republicans Should Be Worried

There are Republican office holders who genuinely embrace Trump. For other leading GOP politicians and strategists, it’s a calculation: placate Trump and his crazy stuff now, win the Congress next year and start to move on.

That’s a fantasy.

The narcissistic former president is incapable of just going away. The Trump brand hardly suffers though it seems every week a new book comes out on his tragic governance and those from people without subpoena power.

Start with the 2020 election, which should be history; Biden won the popular vote handily and the electoral college with several states to spare. That has been validated by Republican state officials, dozens of court cases, Congress and Trump’s own attorney general and vice president. It was more clear-cut than Trump’s victory four years earlier and two other presidential elections in this century.

Time to move on, right? Trump won’t allow it.

Trump is an effective demagogue. Six years ago, he had many Republicans questioning whether Barack ObamaBarack Hussein ObamaWhere is Joe Biden’s ‘red line’?Newsom recall spurs unprecedented turnout campaignBiden is steering America to lose asymmetric warsMORE really was born in the United States, even though Obamas 1961 birth in Hawaii was in the newspaper.;

Actually, the former president could take credit for the rapid development of the extraordinarily effective vaccines but this might help Biden, avoiding which apparently motivates Trump more than the lives he might save.

Todays Republicans Really Hate Democrats And Democracy

1) Trumps supporters have embraced anti-democratic ideas

This chart shows results from a two-part survey, conducted in late 2020 and early 2021, of hardcore Trump supporters. The political scientists behind the survey, Rachel Blum and Christian Parker, identified so-called MAGA voters by their activity on pro-Trump Facebook pages. Their subjects are engaged and committed Republican partisans, disproportionately likely to influence conflicts within the party like primary elections.

These voters, according to Blum and Parker, are hostile to bedrock democratic principles.

You May Like: Did Trump Call Republicans Stupid In 1998

John Kasich Says Republicans Are ‘afraid’ Of Trump

EmbedEmbed

Former Ohio Gov. John Kasich speaks with NPR’s Leila Fadel about the GOP’s unwillingness to stand up to President Trump, who still refuses to accept the results of the presidential election.

LEILA FADEL, HOST:

Last night, President Trump received another loss in court. A federal judge in Pennsylvania dismissed the campaign’s attempts to stop the certification of Pennsylvania’s votes. This is just the latest of more than two dozen failed challenges brought by the Trump campaign to overturn the election results. President Trump refuses to concede, and for the most part, his party has supported his efforts to pursue legal challenges based on false allegations of widespread voter fraud.

Very few high-profile Republicans have publicly acknowledged Joe Biden as the winner, but one of them is John Kasich. He’s the former governor of Ohio and a 2016 Republican presidential candidate, and he joins us now.

Governor Kasich, welcome.

JOHN KASICH: Thanks, Leila. Glad to be with you.

FADEL: So you endorsed President-elect Joe Biden. He won this election. What do you make of President Trump’s attempts to overturn the results?

KASICH: It’s just absurd. The whole thing is – it’s just – it’s ridiculous. I mean, he has clearly won this election. And it is just sort of amazing to me that Republicans just keep sitting on their hands. It makes no sense.

FADEL: That was the former Republican governor of Ohio, John Kasich.

Governor Kasich, thanks for speaking with us.

Republicans Still Scared To Death Of Trump

Trump went on yet another unhinged rant this weekend during a speech to donors in Florida, attacking Mitch McConnell as a “stone cold loser” for refusing to go along with his attempt to steal the election, but you won’t find any profiles in courage in the GOP willing to stand up to him.

Case in point, on this weekend’s Fox News Sunday, South Dakota Republican Sen. John Thune was asked about Trump calling him “weak and inneffective RINO” earlier in the year and saying he might back a primary challenger to Thune. Thune responded telling host Chris Wallace that “I’ve been through wars in South Dakota, political wars, with my own party when I ran the first time, with the Democrats in a couple of hotly contested Senate races, so being afraid of a fight or somebody coming after me is not something that’s going to influence that decision,” but Thune refused to admonish Trump for his rhetoric, and refused to stand up for McConnell when asked about him as well.

Which is pretty much the equivalent of “I support Trump, but I really don’t like the tweeting” that we heard from so many of them over the last five or six years.

As the Fox article discussed, Trump called Thune “Mitch’s boy” when urging Gov. Kristi Noem to challenge Thune in 2022, but no amount of insults are apparently ever breaking point for these jellyfish.

Recommended Reading: Who Is Right Republicans Or Democrats

Why Republicans Are Scared Of Texas New Abortion Ban

For years, conservative legislators have passed increasingly restrictive abortion laws, knowing theyd be struck down by the courts. Now, Republicans are going to have to defend their views at the ballot box. And that might not go well for them.

At a pro-choice rally in Texas in 2013, one sign reads “Republicans, your seats aren’t safe.” | AP Photo/Eric Gay

09/18/2021 08:41 AM EDT

Link Copied

Sarah Isgur is a graduate of Harvard Law School who clerked on the Fifth Circuit. She was Justice Department spokeswoman during the Trump administration and is the host of the legal podcast Advisory Opinions for the Dispatch.

When the Supreme Court allowed Texas 6-week abortion law to stand earlier this month, it was presented asa major victory for anti-abortion conservatives. After all, Republican state legislators in deep red states have long been passing increasingly restrictive abortion laws, only to see many later get struck down in the courts. Finally, one law got through .

Whats going on? When considering the political ramifications of the Texas abortion law, Ian Malcoms famous line from Jurassic Park comes to mind, with a little social-wars twist: Your were so preoccupied with whether or not they could that they didnt stop to think if they should.

So the more relevant question is whether the abortion issue motivates voters in both political camps and which side it motivates more.

Filed Under:

As Gop Makes It Harder To Vote Few Republicans Dissent

ATLANTA In Arizona, a Republican state senator worried aloud that his partys proposed voter identification requirements might be too cumbersome. But he voted for the bill anyway.

In Iowa, the states Republican elections chief put out a carefully worded statement that didnt say whether he backs his own partys legislation making it more difficult to vote early.

And in Georgia, Republican Lt. Gov. Geoff Duncan left the room as Senate Republicans approved a bill to block early voting for all but the GOPs most reliable voting bloc. Duncan instead watched Mondays proceedings from a television in his office to protest.

This is what amounts to dissent as Republican lawmakers push a wave of legislation through statehouses across the nation to make voting more difficult. The bills are fueled by former President Donald Trumps false claims of widespread voter fraud and many are sponsored by his most loyal allies. But support for the effort is much broader than just Trumps hard-right base, and objections from GOP policymakers are so quiet they can be easy to miss.

Its a startling shift for a party whose voters in some states, such as Florida and Arizona, had embraced absentee and mail voting. Several Republican strategists note the party may be passing laws that only box out their own voters.

Read Also: When Did Republicans And Democrats Switch Platforms

An Effort To Investigate Was Blocked In The Senate

Its different with the Jan. 6 insurrection. After Republicans in the Senate blocked a bill to investigate, the House decided to investigate on its own.

This time around, however, all but two Republicans in the House Reps. Adam Kinzinger of Illinois and Liz Cheney of Wyoming voted against setting up a committee to find out what happened on;Jan. 6.

All of Arizonas Republican representatives voted no.;This would include Reps. Andy Biggs and Paul Gosar. You may recall that right-wing political activist Ali Alexander claimed that these two Arizona representatives worked with him to plan pro-Trump rallies, including the one that ended with an attack on the Capitol.

That kind of connection to the Capitol riot seems to be what Republicans are worried about. They;fear the exposure of possible;links between the rioters and Republicans, and the implications that may have for former President Donald Trump.

Gladys Sicknick, the mother of Brian Sicknick, said of the Republicans who voted not to investigate the event, I just dont believe anybody could vote no, it doesnt make sense.

Republicans Can Govern Without Winning A Majority That Threatens Our Democracy

âRepublicans Are Afraid Of Donald Trumpâ Despite Election Loss, Kasie Hunt Says | TODAY

So, lets talk about why Cheney is once again on the chopping block and what that means for the Republican Party moving forward that is, can we finally stop debating whether the GOP is Trumps party now?;

But first: the role of the Big Lie. For a while now, refusing to accept the results of the 2020 election has proven a fealty test of sorts to Trump, and its one Cheney has refused to take. How much of that is responsible for Cheneys current situation versus her politics being increasingly out of step with the rest of the party?

related:Bidens Push For Big Government Solutions Is Popular Now But It Could Backfire Read more. »

nrakich :Its the entire reason for her current situation, Sarah.

Ideologically, Cheney is a faithful conservative at least as conservatism used to be defined. According to DW-Nominate, which uses voting records to quantify the ideology of every member of Congress on a scale from 1 to -1 , she has a score of 0.515.

And according to FiveThirtyEights Trump Score, she voted in line with Trumps position 93 percent of the time. Instead, her main transgression appears to be not going along with the Big Lie .

micah : Yeah, agreed. The idea that Cheneys troubles are about policy the argument that her hawkish foreign policy views or her free-trade-y views are behind her split with the bulk of the GOP is a bit silly?

Americans are living in two different realities right now.

micah: Yeah, agreed.

Thats scary!

Don’t Miss: When Did Republicans And Democrats Switch Platforms

Is The Census Wrong

nrakich: I agree that its circular, Micah. The reason more Republican elites dont criticize Trump is that theyre afraid of his voters punishing them. But what they dont seem to realize is that they themselves also have power to shape those voters opinions! Theres a lot of evidence in political science that elites can shape public opinion.

sarah: Do GOP elites, though? So much of Trumps story in 2016 and 2020 was about the high voter turnout that he was responsible for driving. And although I think we should question how much turnout helped the GOP in 2020, there does seem to be an unspoken fear among GOP elites that these voters arent really Republicans now that is, they wont turn out for anyone other than Trump which is why so many GOP elites are scared to break with Trumps messaging.

micah: What do you all think would happen public opinion-wise if Republicans in Washington came out hard against the Big Lie but Trump and state-level Republicans kept it going?

nrakich: To be clear, it would be a political risk for Republican politicians to come out forcefully against the Big Lie. A solid chunk of the party would likely stand by Trump and continue to think the election was stolen. But it could lead to serious infighting within the GOP. At least, though, our democracy would be on a healthier path.;

But, hey, Im not staring down midterms.

micah: I think they are not long for this world.

I mean, how many are even left?

sarah: Or John Kasich.

Republican Party Faces Rage From Both Pro

By Peter Eisler, Chris Kahn, Tim Reid, Simon Lewis, Jarrett Renshaw

13 Min Read

WASHINGTON – After riots at the U.S. Capitol by President Donald Trumps supporters, the Republican Party is facing defections from two camps of voters it cant afford to lose: those saying Trump and his allies went too far in contesting the election of Democrat Joe Biden – and those saying they didnt go far enough, according to new polling and interviews with two dozen voters.

Paul Foster – a 65-year-old house painter in Ellsworth, Maine – is furious at party leaders for refusing to back the presidents claims that the election was stolen with millions of fraudulent votes. The party is going to be totally broken if it abandons Trump, Foster says, predicting Trump loyalists will spin off into a new third party.

I just wish he would run away with his tail between his legs, Cupelo says.

Though Republicans have now lost control of the White House and both houses of Congress in just four years, Trumps base remains a potent electoral force in the party. That base helped him capture more voters some 74 million than any Republican in history. The vast majority of his supporters, including 70% of Republicans, remain loyal, according to new Reuters/Ipsos polling conducted days after last weeks riot at the Capitol, and many activists say theyre willing to abandon the GOP for any perceived slight against their leader.

Recommended Reading: Dinesh D’souza The Big Switch

Republicans Are Suddenly Afraid Of Democracy

Were not a democracy, Republican Senator Mike Lee tweeted in the middle of Wednesday nights vice-presidential debate. He was reacting to something hed heard onstage there, in his home state of Utah. Another tweet: The word democracy appears nowhere in the Constitution, perhaps because our form of government is not a democracy. Its a constitutional republic. To me it matters. It should matter to anyone who worries about the excessive accumulation of power in the hands of the few. Hours after the debate Lee was still worrying the thought: Democracy isnt the objective; liberty, peace, and prospefity are. We want the human condition to flourish. Rank democracy can thwart that.

Why did Lee choose this momentless than four weeks before an election in which his party seems likely to suffer defeatto make the familiar, even pedantic, point that we live in a republic rather than a pure democracy? Why did he insist on the point so vehemently that he neglected to mention that power in the American system ultimately lies with the people, which means that our system could also be called a representative democracy? Did he mean rank as in foul, rancid, or outright? If the last, does that mean the tyranny of the majority leading to perverse rule by the few? What did this short, misleading course in Civics 101 have to do with anything?

Time To Reckon With Gop Radicalization

The lies about 2020 and the increasing dedication to destroying democratic institutions in the quest for power are inextricable from one another. As Jay Rosen says, the press is comfortable calling out the former it can be packaged as a fact check.” But being forthright about the latter requires depicting one party as far and away the only primary threat to our democratic stability. Thats accurate, but its uncomfortably adversarial.

Relatedly, describing Republicans as cowards who fear Trump casts their machinations as mere reluctant efforts to cope with externally imposed circumstances theyd prefer not to be dealing with. This lets Republicans off the hook in a very fundamental way. It risks misleading the country about the true depths of GOP radicalization and the real dangers it poses.

Read more:

Also Check: How Many Democrats And Republicans Are In The House

[fallingvvstyle]

are you actually 56

No:-)

Theperson that’s been going around saying that about me isn’texactly the brightest LED in the jumbotron. They saw a post Ireblogged that asked people to put their age in the tags; what theyfailed to notice was that I reblogged that post almost two yearsago. Perhaps my anon questionercan figure out the implications of that, but this person doesn’tseem to do very well with abstractions. And I think if I had knownthere were this many haters on tumblr, I would have thought a littlemore about reblogging that.

(There’sa lot of hate ontumblr: someone else lied about me to a discord server owner in orderto get me banned almost a year ago; then again, this person also toldme that they were “glad to hear” that a good friend of mine hadprobably died, so their opinion is kind of of no interest to me.)

Thesame person that’s tellingpeople I’m 56 also once(publicly) accused me of “writing porn about little kids”, whichis something I have never done, and never would do. Iobject to that sort of thing at least as much as the averagenormally-thinking person does.I found out later that theywerereferring to a particular story of mine, and I pointed out that thethird paragraph of the story clearly states that the characters are19 in it, hence it isn’t “pornabout little kids.” This person either barely skimmed the story(and surely didn’t read it for comprehension) or more likely neverread it at all and simplytook the word of someone else, without bothering to fact-check beforemaking that slanderous public comment. SoI’m not in the least surprised that they also missed the veryobvious clue about my age.

Ifsomeone were to kick a person out of a discord server (andthat’s what this is about, isn’t it?)and ban them because that person was black or Muslim,peoplewould be all over them for being a bigot. Beingin a certain age group is simply another demographic; there’s goodand bad people inevery group.

Funnything about bigotry:There isn’t a bigot alive who doesn’t believe that theirparticular prejudice is completely justified. After all, in theirminds, the world would be a better place without “those people”in it. They don’teven realize they’re bigots;it’s amazing how that works!

(Foreseeinga possible objection here: “But you write smut!” Yeah, I do; sowhat? So do literally thousands of other fanfic writers. Do you evenvisit FFN or AO3? The latter site even has a (very popular)“underage” tag; yet you won’t find a single story of mine withthat, because despite what I’ve been accused of, I don’twrite porn involving underage characters.

Y’know,I have 24 South Park stories posted on FFN totalingnearly 300,000 words, and thevast majority of them aren’t smut. Whatthey are instead are better-than-average (yes, I said that myself)stories; but then again I’ve been writing fora very long time. Hell, foras long as I can remember Iwanted to be the next Stephen King :)  Unfortunately the closest Iever came to professional success was when I worked for a small townnewspaper for about a year. So when I discovered fanfiction back in2012, I had finallyfound an outlet where I could indulge my passion and share it withothers. Anyone who judges mebased not on that but rather the two or three stories Ihave writtenthat are either outrightporn or have sex scenes inthem shouldperhaps take a look at theirown biases. No one is forcing anyone to read anything theydon’t want to!

Ifyou want to see what I write when the South Park kids actually are10 years old, you should read mystory  Fahrenheit 203 sometime. Don’t worry! It’s not smut. 

Foreseeinga couple other possible objections:

“Youshould have friends your own age!”(someone actually told me that here). Uh...I have plentyof friends my own age; heck, I have friends that are 20 years olderthan me. Ever smoke a joint with a 70 year old? It’s an eye-openingexperience ;) The problem is, none of those friends share my interest in South Park, or of writing fanfiction, soI have to go elsewhere to find like-minded people.The person that has beensaying I’m 56 once said (and I’m paraphrasing because it’s notworth my time to go get an exact quote): “I don’t seek out olderpeople to be friends with in real life, so why should I do thathere?”

Uh,I would suggest one possible answer might be “to broaden yourobviously very narrow worldview.” When I was 15-18, I wasa member of a local community orchestra (second violinist). I was thesecond or third youngest member there. We’d meet for rehearsal oncea week for two hours, and during the break halfway through, whilemost of the adults wentoutside to smoke, I’d go hang out with one of the cello players.The guy was pushing 70, was a great guy (and funny as hell) and letme play his cello. I got to where I could play a mean version of thefirst 30 seconds of the main theme to ‘Jaws’...butI digress.

“Whyis someone your age on this hellsite?” It’srather presumptuous to assume that someone would lose interest infandom-related things once they’ve passed a certain age. Beyondthat, this question is better addressed than I ever could in thispost:http://fallingvvstyle.tumblr.com/post/164637677546/redshoesnblueskies-knitmeapony

“Butyour generation ruined the economy/destroyed the environment!”Well, that may be true, but I personally had nothing whatsoever to dowith that. I’ve neverserved a single day in Congress, I’ve never been involved inpassing a single law; although I haveplanted close to 30 trees around my house in the last 15 years.Blaming me for what others inmy demographic did is no different thansaying all black people are violent thugs, or all Muslimsare terrorists. Again, theregood and bad folksin every group of people.

“But...I’mjust not comfortabletalking to you.” Ifso, then you probably shouldn’t interact with me;  Butwhat kind of person prevents someone from interacting with otherpeople who dowant to interact with them, besides a petty, vindictivetyrant-wannabe who was probably bullied themselves and seizing theopportunity to tryto doit to someone else (whounfortunately for them doesn’t take crapfrom anyone anymore)?Believeit or not, I’m nothurting anyone (opinionsabout a couple of my stories notwithstanding),I’m not trying to hook up with anyone here (my wife wouldn’t letme anyway :-) ), and I don’t talk about sexual stuff with underagepeople. Asfar as my stories areconcerned,they are all properly tagged and rated, and there my responsibilityends. It’s not up to me to police what other people do on theinternet.

Butno matter; I won’t be joining any more discord servers;however a friend of mine and I are going to start our own, and whenwe do I’ll be posting a linktoit here. There’sa couple people here who goingto bepre-banned.

FinallyI’m going to tag a few people; some of these are people who haveknown me for severalyears, we’vediscussed myage, andthey continue to be my friends, a few are people thatI’m sure have seen this bullshit drama playout onmy dash before and still talk to me anywaywithoutactuallymentioning it,and the rest of them are people whosereactions havebeen less than favorable and rangeanywhere from not talking to me anymore and/or unfollowing me, allthe way upto extreme hostility (andthey’re in no particular order so don’t try to figure out whichuser name is in which category).

@creekycoffee @rensrenegade @whizz-in-my-ass @deusbex @therd101person @niceusernamekahl @rhirhidamiengurl666 @alli-potts @whazzor-bruwn @rinkuthefirst

Onerequest: If you’re going to try to argue with me about this post,make sure you’ve readit for comprehension first, becauseunlike the conversation I had with the personwho still thinks I’m 56,I’m not going to explain the same thing two or three times anymore.

[voyagesofshanghaibrown-blog]

Fake News hits the hi-desert!

Come on, admit it - it wouldn't be 2017 without some fake news in the mix.  And for our final fake news of the year, we turn to author Ivy Pochoda and the "failing" New York Times.

Yes, after all, why should our president have all the fun (we fully intend to tweet this story out as soon as it's done), blathering on about the fake news media all the time.  Those of us in the media know far more about how it gets manipulated and co-opted and bought and sold than any two-bit New York real estate developer, after all.  And since we now have a legion of mindless MAGAts who know literally nada about journalism all telling us that virtually anything and everything we write is "fake" news, we thought it's high time we just jump into the cesspool with them!

I hadn't intended our prime example of late 2017 fake news to be Pochoda's lovely travel piece for The New York Times, "In the California Desert: Vast Darkness, Vibrant Music, an Oasis," but the more I read, the more it seemed this travel piece had donned the fauxhemian garb of fiction (we stole that term "fauxhemian" from someone in New York, by the way, and we're not giving it back).

Plus, and I need to disclose this in the name of journalistic integrity, an ideal we've all heard about but have rarely seen, I'm jealous.  After all, Pochoda's a trendy, popular novelist, and I'm jealous, because I'm on the second chapter of my first novel, and you know what?  It's hard work writing these novels.  Add to that the New York Times just rejected me for some utter wet dream of a job where they pay you gobs of cash to travel the globe and write for a full year - a job that no doubt saw something near 2.3 million applicants - and hey, so much for objectivity.

Some of Pochoda's meandering desert travel epic rings true, even to these jaded hi-desert ears, though she did claim in her initial story (more about that later) that Joshua Tree was actually south of Palm Springs.  Uh, no.  You're thinking of perhaps, Borrego Springs, which is also an awesome place to go, and one of our favorite desert towns.

Her first paragraph about winding up in Wonder Valley mostly by accident, sounded like an authentic desert experience.  After all, quite a few folks in Wonder Valley have wound up there by accident.  Some will tell you they got there on purpose, but press them for details, and... poof!  They can't quite recall what that purpose was, can they?

Of course Pochoda blames this accident on mistakenly booking a vacation rental in Wonder Valley while thinking she was reserving a home in Joshua Tree.  This is a problem that has gotten worse since her first visit, not better.  Virtually all 3,417 Airbnbs in the hi-desert all proudly proclaim themselves to be "in" Joshua Tree.  Some are even (gasp!) in Landers.

But by her second paragraph, Pochoda gets down to serving up a hearty dish of misinformation - the kind of misinformation that can only be known as fake news.

First, she refers to our area as the "High Desert."  Wrong, wrong, wrong, you urban elitist snowflake.  Our area, the area also known as the Morongo Basin, is the hi-desert.  The people who actually settled this place purposefully chose that spelling because the Lancaster/Palmdale area has always traditionally been known in southern California, as the high desert.  Our wise hi-desert elders (they were wise, but judging by some of their offspring, they seem to have married close cousins, if you get my drift) wanted to make sure nobody mistook our area for Lancaster/Palmdale (good move!), and besides, hi-desert (always lower case, because we're a no-ties, informal kind of place, not at all like Manhattan), sounds welcoming and friendly (though sometimes our residents can be that kind of friendly where they'll drink all your booze, smoke all your dope, and then steal your car).

We see a lot of folks using the term "High Desert," because they're not from here and they want to make sure all of us backward folk get our spelling correct, and capitalize it like it's a proper pronoun, which it is.  Sort of.  Or not.  We often see this unwanted correction of our area's name done by sophisticated pseudo-intellectual urbanites from Los Angeles, or even New York, who also love to refer to Joshua Tree National Park as "the monument," despite the fact that they never lived here when it was a national monument.  They think it makes them sound like the fit in.  They don't.

But Pochoda's second paragraph contains a more egregious error - and one the editors of the Times should absolutely have caught - that is, if they weren't trying to pass off some of that fishy fake news on their unsuspecting readers.  Pochoda informs us that you can go to Joshua Tree National Park (at least she doesn't call it the monument - thanks Ivy!), and "get your mind blown by Martian red rock formations..."

Uh, no.  Joshua Tree National Park does not have red rock formations.  None.  Monzogranite?  Sure.  But while you can find some red rock up in the oddly named Red Rock Canyon State Park in the northwest of the Mojave Desert, and you can find it in the similarly named Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area, just outside Las Vegas, and in Valley of Fire State Park, also not far outside Las Vegas, or virtually just about everywhere in southeast Utah, we have no red rock in Joshua Tree (unless Mr. Andre went and painted another boulder or something).

Who paid the fact checker to look the other way on that whopper?

I'll overlook the fact Pochoda drops the "bohemian" bomb on us once again (the last time it was the LA Times that did it, and really, once was enough, thank you).  We get that we're different than the Coachella Valley, thank God, and yes, while much of the lo desert resembles a well manicured mausoleum, we are a little rougher and in need of a pedicure, or at least a bath.

Now, if Ms. Pochoda were to have submitted her story to this somewhat less than prestigious publication instead of the old grey lady, she would have had her red rocks dug out right away, along with the screaming windmills she had to drive through to get here (they do not scream, that's hyperbolic).

Never mind her brutish depiction of our fabulous Joshua trees with their "knifelike leaves reaching up toward the brutal sun," we all know they don't have leaves, they have spiky things that really hurt when you accidentally stab one into the side of your head, it's her epiphany about the desert that really strikes out:

“I get it,” I say, “it doesn’t look like much.”

In fact, Highway 62 doesn’t even look like desert.

Really?  So, Ms. I-saw-red-rocks-in-Joshua-Tree-desert-expert, the desert doesn't look like the desert?  Well, it damned sure doesn't look like lower Manhattan, now, does it?

OK, so then she utterly erased Morongo Valley from the map as the first town she passed on her oddessy (yes, it's misspelled, but more accurate this way), was Yucca Valley, where tattoo parlors and smoke shops rival the number of big box stores and fast food joints.  Well, she got that right, anyway.

Then, she arrived in Joshua Tree (town, not park), which she describes as "equally grim."  Yes, hipsters and fauxhemians, she just completely dissed your "village," in just two words, clearly not understanding that the cool people of Joshua Tree absolutely would, under normal circumstances, kill just about anyone who equated their town with Yucca Valley, let alone refer to it as grim.

Our intrepid explorer, enduring grimness after grimness, continued on to Twentyine Palms, a "town of barbershops advertising military haircuts, more tattoo parlors and smoke shops..." and she goes on to note two bars "too divey even for me," and a worrisome number of massage parlors.

That's hilarious.  Back in the early days of The Sun Runner Magazine, when it was still based in Twentynine Palms (before the good citizens of the city offered to firebomb my office, that is), not long after the magazine began publishing on January 1, 1995, Vickie Waite, the founding editor of the publication ran a quite funny piece that gently parodied Twentynine Palms in a similar manner, and it caused an uproar that resulted in quite a few canceled ads and outraged readers demanding an apology.  But, in the interest of journalistic integrity, I'd have to say that her portrayal, just like that of Deanne Stillman (another author whom to this day the mere mention of her name elicits an angry response in that scrappy town), is pretty much right on.

The only thing I'd add is that the dive bars are actually pretty friendly, and Pochoda doesn't understand much about the Marine Corps because the base commander will designate any bar that's too "divey" as off limits.  I fondly remember the Joshua Tree Saloon's days as being "off limits" because evidently it was too dangerous for Marines returning from Iraq and Afghanistan to have a drink there.  This was before they started serving seared ahi tuna salads and putting on airs.

Oh, and I'd add that some folks in the city keep saying they can't do anything about the happy ending massage parlors that service, errr..... serve, the Marines in town.  Yes, yes you can do something about them.  The Coachella Valley has had licensing requirements that have fully regulated the massage businesses there for years.  If they can do it, so can you.

Soon, Pochoda passed the "sturdy" (she loves that word) adobes and emerged in Wonder Valley.  She drove by the famous "Next Services 100 Miles" sign (it's famous because artist Andrea Zittel once gave an interview to some big city paper with no fact checkers where she said she lived past that sign - yeah, going the other way, back in Joshua Tree).  She bravely drove on through the "savage terrain that seemed to stretch on for a nerve-racking distance."  Give her a medal!

Now, honestly, I love it that Pochoda does "get" a lot about the desert, and she appreciates what it has to offer.  But snuffling beneath the deck?  What desert animal with any self respect snuffles?  Was that just a literary device?  If so, why do literary devices snuffle?  Allergies, probably.

No, I think I've found the answer: wolves.  Wolves snuffle.  Especially the ones in the original version of her story (that has been edited since our first reading).  Apparently we weren't the only ones who caught the fact that wolves had been included in the story, despite the fact that there are zero wolves here.  Maybe when sloths roamed the countryside, munching slothfully on the tasty knifelike leaves of our Joshua trees, wolves may have howled, but not for quite some time.

Note to NYT editors who replaced "wolves" with "dogs" in this story: we do have a problem out here with people abandoning their dogs, and those dogs forming packs, and those packs occasionally bringing down a desert bighorn sheep, or threatening and attacking a human.  One pack had been really going after our local bighorn sheep, until, a national park ranger explained to me, "we took care of the problem."  No, they didn't round up the doggies and take them to the pound.

But while it appears the fact checkers may have awoken at the Times and realized that wolves are not included in our entertaining selection of wildlife, they missed the subtle clue that followed that tipped us off that Pochoda had engaged in time travel as well.

Time travel?  How could that be?

Simple.  Pochoda's description of the 29 Palms Inn gives it away.  She talked about her trip nearly a decade ago, and the wall around the Inn's pool area being painted in "gradients of purple" on the pool side of the wall, and gradients of orange on the exterior.  Well, they just painted the wall in those gradients in the past year, so clearly, Pochoda time traveled during her first visit.

But on a later visit to the Inn (which is well worth repeated visits, by the way - we go as often as possible), she understands that being at the Inn in the Mojave is somehow the equivalent of being in a U.S. consulate on a small island in the South Pacific.  Minus the South Pacific, of course, or the tall coconut palms replacing our squatter, native palm trees.  If you spend enough time at the Inn, you may find yourself thinking it's similar, however, to a consulate somewhere on Alderaan, before the planet's untimely demise.

Her depiction of a night at the Inn is hilarious, with its "rugged tourists" and "resident artists and musicians of a rougher cut."  I'm trying to visualize the Inn filled with "rugged" tourists.  Were they all wearing lumberjack clothes?  Big beards?  Those are hipsters!  The only thing rugged about them is their desire to make big bonfires during 45 mph winds when they're getting a craving for s'mores at some Hipcamp, doing their best to burn down our homes.

Pochoda's description of the Campbell House is about as shallow as it gets for travel writing, entirely ignoring, well, the Campbells, who really deserved more of a mention, especially in light of their contributions.  No.  We're not going to tell you more about them.  Go ask the New York Times.  They're the ones hiring people who don't know anything about the places they write about.

I can forgive Pochoda's hyperbole and odd adjectives to a point, especially since this is ostensibly a story about fake news, even the swallows carving the purple sky, our gritty flowers, and fields of cactuses, with our insistent hidden oases, but then she went to The Palms, which defies description anyway.

Don't get me wrong, I love The Palms.  I just can't take my wife there any more because the first and last time I took her there some drunkass local woman tried to pick a fight with her. "Yoush look like onna dem LA womenth," the local woman who is actually from LA, said to my wife, who is from New Jersey.  It went downhill from there.  The woman, it turned out, made her living by taking pictures of people's auras every Thursday night at the Palm Springs VillageFest, with a special (ie: expensive) Polaroid camera.  What portion of the money the woman did not spend on driving back and forth to Palm Springs from Wonder Valley, she spent on cheap beer, knowing full well The Palms never 86es anyone.  Not even the shape-shifting reptililans who frequently drop by on Saturday nights.

I was ready to jump in to keep my wife from being clumsily assaulted as the woman got threateningly in her face, but luckily, my wife's hairdresser at the time, Jerry, walked through the door right then and quickly intervened.  Jerry lived in Wonder Valley and frequented The Palms, and had even survived a tornado that struck his home.  We do have some pretty interesting, and sometimes severe, weather out here.  Dick Dale, the surf guitar king, had a giant 2,000 gallon (don't quote me on this because I'm going on memory here) water tank that once was blown something like four miles away, and Jerry had his roof  - and his electric meter - blown off his house and off somewhere into the desert, never to be seen again.

What was funny, was that Southern California Edison sent Jerry an electric bill while he was waiting for them to come out to replace his meter.  He asked them how they knew how much to bill him.  "We read the meter," was the reply.  "Oh, you found it!" Jerry responded.

Virtually none of us who live here would be surprised to find out that SCE lies.  Some of that might come from the fact that another agency in the line of plying power, LA Department of Water and Power, told some really big whoppers to us a while back.  But that's another story.

Pochoda wrapped things up saying "big city artists and artisans and a rumored hipster hotel chain are coming," conjuring up images of change sweeping across our little wolf-riddled red rock part of the Mojave, snuffling through the knifelike leaves of the Joshua trees, and, well, changing things.  But we already have lots of big city artists and artisans, and some get me called a pornographer for printing their ads in the magazine (another story, but tied to that mention of people wanting to firebomb my office), and others make me really nice stuff that I love and use, and are as sweet as can be.  The hipster hotel "chain," is really just a couple remodeling (slowly) Govinda's old Circle C Lodge.  Not exactly Ace Hotel Twentynine Palms or anything.

Pochoda's story in the New York Times isn't a happenstance kind of thing.  She has a novel that's just come out called "Wonder Valley."  I'm glad she finds inspiration for her storytelling in our sturdy, rugged part of the desert.

Oh, and this notice has appeared at the bottom of her travel story in the New York Times:

Correction: December 20, 2017

An earlier edition of this article described incorrectly the location of Joshua Tree. It is north of Palm Springs and other resort towns, not south. The article also misidentified the source of sounds in the desert. They were coyotes, not wolves.

Ivy Pochoda's New York Times story

[clausvonbohlen]

‘Be careful what you wish for...

…because it may come true.’  This saying has always perplexed me. Surely we want our wishes to come true? (So long as we wish wisely, that is). Who would willingly choose to be in an indefinite state of wanting? But I think I understand it a bit better now.

 In my last post, I mentioned how I had felt restless upon returning to Athens last autumn. I visited Mount Athos for the first time in October, and that was an oasis of calm, but it also gave me plenty to think about. Maybe the peacefulness of the monasteries made me see things more clearly: back in Athens once again, my restlessness was all the more evident. And not just a restlessness, but an underlying malaise, an impatience, a sense that things were not quite right.

 I was also able to recognise that this restlessness is something I have felt all my adult life. In the past, I have deployed a toolkit of strategies to avoid confronting it. Strategies such as intense exercise, or alcohol and socialising, or pursuing girls, or drugs, or (more long term), changing jobs, or moving from one country to another.

  In the past, I have always blamed my restlessness on something outside myself. But now I live in a city I love, surrounded by people whose values resonate with my own, in a beautiful country, and my main occupation is one I have chosen freely, and that I often find deeply rewarding. And so I have to face the fact that the malaise stems from within.

  So now I understand the saying, ‘Be careful what you wish for because it may come true.’ If it does come true, and you are still not happy, or at peace, then a very unflattering mirror is held up to you; you are forced to confront your own dysfunction.

 One aspect of getting older is that patterns in your life become more obvious. When you are in your 20s and a situation occurs for the second or third time, it is still easy to blame the outside world. But when you are in your 40s, and you recognise that certain situations keep repeating themselves, you are forced to confront the fact that you may be creating them, or at the very least contributing to them. The disadvantage of this is that you lose the pleasing illusion of your own blamelessness; the advantage is that you now have the opportunity to change things.

 Reading back over what I have written, it all sounds so clear and logical. But that’s not how it was at the time. Initially, I attempted to deploy the toolkit described above. But my lower back was still hurting, so I couldn’t escape from the malaise through sport and exercise. I went out at night, but the hangovers have become too painful. One night I stopped by the addicts in the park and bought some more of the local version of crystal meth. I felt great for 24 hours, and then predictably and deservedly terrible for a week. A girl I liked disappeared without a trace, and a subsequent perfunctory encounter left me feeling very empty. And only then did I fully understand: I need to address this, or I will never feel peace, and it will end up killing me, one way or another.

  Last summer I had met a friend’s brother-in-law at a wedding. He claimed to work with plant spirits, and to channel their energies – from his home in Portugal - in order to perform healings; all he needs is a photo in which he can see your eyes. A few days before New Year he got in touch, casually, to say hello and ask how I was. I told him that I was at a low ebb, so he offered to perform a plant spirit healing. I felt I had nothing to lose, and that is why, on the morning of the 31st December, I was lying on the floor of my darkened apartment in Athens, listening to his Spotify playlist on my headphones, while sage leaves smoldered in the ashtray and my new friend in Portugal harnessed the spirits of his helper plants and sent them my way.

  Did the plant spirit healing help? It is hard to say. Now, half a year later, I feel like a different person, with a new lease of life. But of course this is not a control experiment, and that might have happened anyway.

 On the morning of the healing, back in December, I spent a couple of hours in a written whatsapp conversation with the plant spirit healer, for him to get to know me a bit better. It was a sort of diagnostic interview, with some very direct questions on his part. But he made some insightful comments and I found it genuinely therapeutic.

  I admitted to the healer that I felt a lot of guilt about my own unhappiness. I am sympathetic to the suffering of all those who have been dealt a rough hand by life, but in my own case, is it not just the privileged self-indulgence of those who have nothing better to do? I have been blessed with loving parents, a good education, material means, and some mental capacity. With all of these advantages, how can I justify feeling miserable? Should I not be using them in some productive way, to create a better world?

  The truth, of course, is that I have been trying in a modest way to do that for 20 years, and yet the malaise has always been there.

  The healer’s response was a reframe that had the satori-inducing effect of the most striking koan: the crime is not to feel miserable despite worldly advantages. The crime would be if you failed to use those advantages to address and resolve your misery.  It is possible that my soul was incarnated in this body, at this time and in this place, specifically because it provides me with the opportunity, the means, the capacity, and the precise challenges that I need for my own spiritual evolution. This is my fate, and I can embrace it and thereby progress on the only path that matters, or I can continue to try to fight it.

  Another reason not to compound my malaise with guilt, the healer pointed out, is because our blockages are not entirely of our own making. This is the meaning of ‘inherited trauma’. Trauma does not need to be acute or dramatic or PTSD-inducing; it can refer to any form of malaise, unhappiness, discontent, frustration, mental suffering. It can run in families as well as in genders and races. My father’s depression and alcoholism will have affected me, as will the fact that my mother never had a relationship with her own father, and never introduced us to him while he was still alive. She never talks about it, but there must be a lot of sadness bound up with that relationship, and that sadness gets passed on. It gets passed on because your parents are the templates you inevitably copy, and also because it creates the emotional energy field in which you grow up. But it is important to remember that most parents do their best, and that their blockages and traumas have come from their own parents, and so on back up the generations. But if we don’t want to keep passing them on to following generations, then we have to commit to confronting them and dissolving them in our own lives.

  The healer went on to mention a related but more mysterious concept: the shamanic 7 generational principle of ancestral healing. What we do in this life can, apparently, affect 7 generations of ancestors. When there is a lot of dysfunction in a family, it may fall to us to address that. The healer referred to it as ‘taking a hit for the team’. It sounded farfetched, even by my standards, but thinking back over the history of my family, it struck me that the lucrative forging of weapons over generations is unlikely to be karma-neutral (irrespective of attempts to offset it with workers’ welfare programs). I wrote a novel motivated by my desire to explore (and ultimately reject) the notion of inherited guilt, so this does not sit particularly well with me. And I certainly don’t think of myself as some sort of chosen one. However, I have long since ceased to dismiss things out of hand just because I don’t fully understand them.

  To return to my darkened apartment on the 31st December: I listened to the playlist, trying to be receptive to the energy of beneficent plant spirits, and felt… not a lot. Although, I must say that over the next few days I felt more positive than I had done for a long time. But that may have been due to being less hungover than most in the early days of January.

  They were cold, wet days in Athens, and I spent them ensconced in a few cafés, reading an author whose words resonated with the clarity of the finest Zen singing bowl. He is an author I had first heard of about a decade ago, but at the time I had dismissed him without reading him. I was wary of his popularity and hype; he seemed liked the worst kind of self-help guru.  Back then I was a doctoral student in psychology, and I had no time for someone I assumed was a purveyor of ersatz spirituality. His name is Eckhart Tolle, and how wrong I was. And how arrogant. In January I read ‘A New Earth’, carefully, twice. It was a epiphany: he expresses so much that feels intuitively true, but which I have not yet experienced deeply enough for me to be able to live my life through the lens of that understanding.

  His description of the collective dysfunction of the ego struck a particular chord. I remembered the pony-tailed South African shaman in Peru who, having fed me a glass of the noxious San Pedro cactus hallucinogen, told me to let go of my ego. It is not that I am particularly full of myself, or selfish, or ego-centric. Rather, like the rest of our Western culture, I have fallen into the trap of identifying completely with my thoughts and feelings, my likes and dislikes. I seek my sense of self through the things I possess and the way I appear to others, and I have lost my sense of who I am beyond that, which is what we all  are: undifferentiated awareness, the universe becoming conscious of itself, and an expression of the divine. But read Tolle, or the Upanishads, or even (without blinkers) the Bible; they contain the same message, in different terminology.

 If you look to the ego for your sense of identity, you are on a very unsteady footing. Talents, possessions, achievements, reputation; these are all fleeting. But if your sense of identity, of core self, is dependent upon them, it means that every time you lose something, or something doesn’t go your way, or you feel slighted, or that you have failed in some sense, then your identity is threatened. And that, from the ego’s perspective, is the very worst thing that can happen. It is enough to make daily life a constant nightmare, and that is what so many adults’ faces express.

  Perhaps, if you read this blog, you might look at my life and think that I have lived it on my own terms. You might wonder why I write so much about ego, when the choices I have made seem motivated by an authentic search (at least I hope they do), rather than by the desire to acquire possessions or power or fame. And, on the surface, that is indeed the case. When I am by myself, in the places I love, I feel the authenticity of those choices, and a calmness can grow out of it. However, when exposed to places and situations where those values are not evident – hectic materialistic cities, ambitious and worldly people – then my confidence gets rattled and, on a deep and mostly unconscious level, self-doubt will spread its probing tentacles.

  The area in which this happens most frequently, and most painfully, is in my relationship with my parents. On the surface, they have been faultless in always encouraging me to follow my heart, and never trying to force me to follow a path that would not have felt true. But that is on the surface. On a deeper level, I think I have sensed their unexpressed desire for me to be ‘someone’ in the eyes of the world, so that they can be someone through me. And they have these desires because they have not yet done the work – and probably never will – that would lead them to the knowledge that the eyes of the world are meaningless. I have picked up these subliminal messages from the way that they talk about successful people, or about the worldly success of the children of their friends. It is painful for me because it makes me feel like a failure, although my parents are themselves not sufficiently conscious to be aware of how I might feel.

  I now believe that this phenomenon is what drives many people, and makes them miserable. Unless our parents are highly aware, they are still stuck in seeking happiness through achievements. When their own achievements fail to satisfy them (and achievements, being ego-based, can never satisfy us for long), then they look to their children for vicarious satisfaction. This places a burden on the children, and one which can never be fully resolved, since there is no limit to achievement: I have a friend who felt like he had failed because he won a silver rather than a gold medal at the Beijing Olympics! Children want nothing more than to feel loved by their parents, but if they think that parental love is contingent upon their own worldly achievements, then they are condemned to Sisyphean misery.

  These realisations crystallized in the days following the plant spirit healing. Then, towards the end of January, I received a Facebook message from my cousin (on my mother’s side) in Australia. We do not know each other well; we are in touch once a year at most. He had been sorting through boxes of our grandmother’s stuff and had found a few photos that my mother had sent her over the years. He photographed a few of the images and sent them to me. They were photos I had seen before, but as soon as they came into focus on my screen, I was overcome with emotion. One photo in particular had me choking up: I am in school uniform, and my mother is visiting me during my first or second year at boarding school. There is such happiness, and such love, in her expression.  And yet I was only 14 years old - I had not yet achieved anything in my life. I was struck by the realization that, on the deepest level, my mother’s love for me is not contingent on achievements, or success of any kind. It is a given, even if our respective blockages and egoic concerns can sometimes cloud the water. But the cloudiness is a distraction, and sediment will settle.  To quote the ska artist Lord Tanamo, ‘A mother’s love is from creation, it is truly the greatest association!’

  I spent a long time looking at those images. The fact that my cousin had sent them to me out of the blue seemed to be a confirmation of Tolle’s belief that, when you are aligned with the intelligence of the Unmanifested (as he calls it, but you could insert the One/ consciousness/ Being/ God), then the universe will give you what you need.

  Over the next few days, I felt a lot lighter than I had for a long time. But I also experienced the recurrence of extreme sensitivity around my navel, so sensitive that it verged on being painful. I looked online, but it didn’t sound like an ulcer or a hernia, more like an energy blockage. I decided to return to Iannis, the Greek energy healer who practised an ancient Asclepian method, similar to Reiki, and whom I had visited once before, a year ago, for back pain (an encounter I wrote about in a previous post).

  Dr. Iannis was just as I remembered him – small, curious, twinkly. He stood behind me and diagnosed low energy and a ‘reduced aura’. He did not pick up on the discomfort around my navel. When I mentioned it, he said that it had to do with psychology and the emotions – something very deeply buried, a trauma of some sort, possibly a birth trauma? He could not be more specific, but it was enough to make me pretty sure that the discomfort was connected to the photo that had moved me so much a few days before.

  Iannis was confident that he could help. As on the previous occasion, I lay on the couch with my eyes closed while he moved his hands above my body. I felt a cool breeze on the backs of my hands and the tops of my feet – this, according to Iannis, was energy and not air, and indeed his hands moved so slowly that it seemed impossible they could create the breeze I was feeling. And as he had predicted, the umbilical sensitivity disappeared within a couple of days.

  At the end of the session, I told Iannis about my plan to return to Mt. Athos, the Greek monastic peninsula, for a longer visit. I was quite proud of having arranged this, since I had written my first formal letter in Greek to request permission, and then sent it to the Abbot of the monastery. I am not Orthodox, and I wanted to stay for a whole week, so I had to present a convincing case, and I was happy to receive a positive response. I thought that, being a spiritual place, and far from the drugs and alcohol which had contributed to my low energy (or ‘reduced aura’), Iannis would be encouraging. But in fact, he was dismissive.

  ‘Mt. Athos is not such a good place,’ he said.

  Many urban Greeks are dismissive of their religion. In the cities, the Orthodox church can seem materialistic, manipulative, and only concerned with lavish ceremonial regalia and pomp and show. But Mt. Athos could hardly be further removed from all that, surely Iannis knew that?

  ‘The problem with the monasteries,’ he continued, ‘is that there are no women.’

  Ah, I thought, the usual accusations of homosexuality, pederasty, abuse… It seems a secular shibboleth to me, certainly I have never seen any hint of it in the monasteries I have visited. But my assumption was mistaken. Iannis continued: ‘Men and women are both composed of varying degrees of male and female energy. A man has some female energy, and a woman has some male energy. To be physically and psychologically healthy, you must learn how to balance these two energies within you. Retreating to an entirely male environment does not help you do that. In fact, it can do the opposite.’

  Well, it is an interesting theory. I have by now met a small number of inspiring monks on Mt. Athos who seemed pretty centred and balanced – certainly happy - but as far as my own energetic make-up goes, Iannis may have a point.

  In any case, I returned to Athos in February, to spend a week at Iviron. At that time of year there are not many visitors. I had a small cell with a writing desk, and I spent most of the week reading and writing. One reason for returning to that particular monastery was that I had a circuitous introduction to a Greek-American monk there (via the wife of the brother-in-law of the monk’s brother, who – somewhat incongruously, or perhaps not - is a US marine). But I managed to track Brother Eugenios down and he is a delightful, inspiring man. He is in his mid-30s, highly intelligent and thoughtful, with a doctorate in theology and an astonishing memory. I met him for daily chats in the monastery library, where he also gave me some books about the Orthodox faith.

                       Returning to Mt. Athos

I got into the habit of attending Matins at 3.30am. I would usually stay for an hour or two and then return to bed, but the monks would push on through until dawn, some four hours later. Though I can’t understand the liturgies in Koine (Alexandrian) Greek, there is nevertheless something powerfully affecting about the bearded monks chanting by candlelight, incense heavy in the air while wind and rain batter the outside of the chapel. With very few exceptions, that same scene has been repeated in that place every night for the last 1000 years.

  There is much that is very attractive to me about the Greek Orthodox faith. But there are stumbling blocks too. When I asked Brother Eugenios what the Orthodox Church would say about a healer who died some years ago on Cyprus, but whose healings are well documented (he is the subject of a book called ‘The Magus of Strovolos’, by the sociologist  Kyriacos Markides), Brother Eugenios replied that the church would be very circumspect indeed. A religious elder would have to determine whether the healings occurred through the intercession of God, of whether it was the work of the devil.

‘But when the healings are effective? When sick people get well? Even then?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes, even then,’ confirmed Brother Eugenios. ‘The devil uses precisely such stratagems to trick people. That is why he is so dangerous.’

  The Devil and his works... they have not played much role in the anodyne versions of Christianity I have encountered thus far in my life. But they are significant in the Orthodox faith, as are certain other darker aspects. There is a fresco on the far wall of the smaller Portaïtissa chapel at Iviron that depicts a river of flame siphoning the damned off into the jaws of a giant sea monster. Around the edges are stock medieval images of hell and purgatory. They do not make for pleasant viewing.

  On my last night in the monastery it snowed, and the following morning I had to leave early to hike back up to Karyes, breaking tracks through the ankle deep snow. Mt. Athos shimmered in the distance, the forest around me slowly came to life, and thoughts of the Devil and his infernal sea monsters were soon far from my mind.

 There was chaos at Karyes since the road was frozen over and the normal bus to the port of Dafni could not run. Replacement minivans were shuttling monks and pilgrims down the steep mountain road. Everyone had made arrangements, and was on busy schedules, and it was all rather confusing. But equally, none of it really seemed to matter very much, and I experienced a calmness and an inner amusement that I had not felt for a long time. And this time it has stayed with me, for the most part. I would like to think that it has been built on solid foundations.

[thefreshchannel]

Hey I'm newish to the td fandom so do mind me asking who Tasha is?

I guess since she seems to have deleted i can tell the story now lmao

She was basically a fake identity created to harass """the populars™""" like if u heard of jaded teenage girl tashalovesnirvana u probably already know what her personality was like, but the td fanbase was basically her origins and it is an incredibly long story to tell u every little thing shes done so a tl;dr would be tasha is basically a harasser/stalker who traumatized a lot of people for many years. like she pretended to be so many other people and was very out for blood lmao. Also she was a fake persona, along w many others, created by the creator of theconfessioncam herself cherri (who hasnt been online since new years 2015) to make everyone miserable for “kicking her out the td fandom” 

BUT IF U WANNA KNOW THE FULL STORY IT’S UNDER A CUT CAUSE BOI IS IT LONG AND TYPING IT FELT UNREAL

I already spoke abt theconfessioncam so we'll just skip to the day the person behind it was exposed. The person behind it was called cherri (isabelle was her real name but we all called her cherri bc it was in her url)

Cherri was infamous amongst the fanbase bc she shipped chrindsay and wouldn't understand why others didn't, was mostly anti sj/w, liked and defended the one character who shall not be named at the time people were calling out the issues they had w the character (all ppl calling out the issues being neurodivergent while she was neurotypical also this is discourse i am not willing to touch again so dont even think abt sending asks about this lmao), created the phrase "screw you i'm getting my duncney on" and constantly commenting abt why the fandom was toxic and shit like that. Most people would ignore her at first until after theconfessioncam turned out to be her. Many people presented proof and evidence and now she was public enemy #1 like no one liked her and one night everyone started calling her out for her shit and like she immediately blew up. On everyone. I'm p sure after that night the whole plot started.

So like. Shortly after comes a person called "holly-so-jolly" (who then became holly-smokes-molly for a short period of time in late 2015? 2016? fuck idk but her fame was very short but thats another story)Holly befriended cherri and her group of uglies so fast by always being like "wow fuck the populars"  

the populars, a term coined in by theconfessioncam's anons, referred to ppl who would argue a lot abt smthn and others would agree w over well, cherris gang. Anyways holly would almost immediately always start a fight w the populars or say some problematic shit or stan for cherri a lot. I know y'all are wondering what this has to do w tasha but trust me we'll get there lol

A few days (maybe a day or two) after holly joins the fanbase, a new hateblog (SPECIFICALLY MADE TO SEND HATE ABOUT THE POPULARS) popped up. The populars would get anons about the hate blog seeing as it was so brand new that it wouldnt show up in the tag just yet. And these confessions were CRUEL. Like wishing death/murder upon these ppl, encouraging self harm, harassing minors (literally under 16 at the time), ableist comments, racism, transphobia, homophobia like it was all there. Someone else faked a new blog agreeing w these confessions and managed to speak to the new hate blog (this was someone who was undercover and managed to expose the person running that hateblog, which ended up being holly)

Holly then changed her url to winner-challenged to try to impersonate ryan, but them claimed to be other 2 people making an april fool's joke (in february no less lmao) and then she changed her persona completely to desireesparx and tried to pass off as a new person in the fanbase. But it didnt work and she deleted as fast as she came in. Antitotaldramapopulars only lasted one day. On the same day, theconfessioncam was deleted. People suspected cherri was behind all this all to which she claimed she wasnt but we all know the truth lol.

After holly hell, tasha fiasco started. And boy was tasha fucking persistent. Like she came in early 2014, and only JUST NOW DELETED. It is 2017.

Tasha-loves-duncney was ?? I guess ur basic td blogger who just loved duncney? No one had any thoughts of her at first until she made a post about not understanding why people hated mike. So people went on to explain. And i forgot rlly what happened but like tasha started getting more aggressive. Like she would reblog "the populars'" personal posts and mock them, she even added a comment hoping for the person's house to fall on them. Someone then made the "fly away tasha" comment and she CRIED because apparently she had been bullied for having a bird nose and been told that before so it only made the phrase stick. She then made an entire post saying rape wasnt bad or some weird ugly shit like that, and even after that she still had a few ppl supporting her (mostly other anti s/jws in the fanbase and cherris old friends ((also CHERRI WAS NOWHERE TO BE FOUND OR SEEN! SHE DISAPPEARED DURING ALL THIS LOL))) And that's when we all were all over her and i'm p sure it was when all the hate blogs came back.

I'm not sure if maybe i'm confusing it for another hateblog or if there was another one before this one (or i'm getting the timeline wrong bc is2g tasha deleted and came back so many times) but a confession blog popped up called "camerainthepotty" or smthn along the lines that just seemed to post whatever random weird asks ppl would send them. Then during that night it converted to tdgossipgirls and ?? It was such a weird blog lmao like just like antitotaldramapopulars, it aimed to bully the fandom populars in burn book style ? Tabloid magazine style? Point is we all knew it was tasha lmao and at this point it started to become clear who tasha really was. Whatever hateblog it was it would post fake edited asks allegedly sent by the populars themselves which gave us great classics such as "king bee ryan outtie!"

Anyways tasha liked another populars' personal post and people told her to delete bc it was a super heavy personal post. She claimed it was for support but like she finally deleted. And we were tasha clear for a few months? Weeks? (someone even took the url i think) so she then came back as "tashasbackbitches" and boi was she mad lmao. The whole tag asked her to fly away and she took a screenshot of it and claimed bullying. She then tried to ruin ale//noah day by posting pics of dunc/ney which compared to all she's done this is the most tame thing she had done but ppl were still mad abt that anyways lol. So i think a day later she made the anti-winnerchallenged blog specifically aimed at ryan for whatever reason. She ""accidentally"" made a post for anti-winnerchallenged on tashasbackbitches but like once ppl pointed it out something even weirder happened like it sounds fucking unreal but apparently it was a fake tasha???? According to real tasha??? Who was now back as "tashalovesduncney" with no hyphens?? And going to people's inbox saying that tashasbackbitches WAS NOT HER And that she had proof on her blog bc there was a pic of her holding a piece of paper w her url written on it and also an audio post explaining what happened.

So tashasbackbitches was deleted and now we were stuck with tashalovesduncney. Which at first was??? Idk but the audio post on her blog sounded high pitched like. It didnt sound like no human voice lmao. Also the pic of her had the piece of paper edited in. So someone pointed it out and like. She immediately assumed another ""popular"", cass, had sent it. And when i tell u this tasha was DARK AND OUT FOR BLOOD, I MEAN IT LMAO. Like tasha clung on to cass ever since. She would @ them and all that shit on posts and like. This tasha was out to attack. She would constantly say awful shit abt the populars and @ them in her posts, or she would @ well known anti sj/w blogs (such as p0ppypicklesticks, swimmninda/privilege u name it) and encourage them to slay our sjw asses. Not only that but now there was an anti-deadbyshawn blog to aim hate at cass specifically.

I guess at some point someone else came in the fandom by the name of staceyd123 and was received in many different ways like1. People assuming this was tasha2. People defending her bc she was a minor3. Tasha encouraging her to befriend her

However a lot of ppl started to believe this was a different person. She did befriend tasha and a lot of the ppl in the fandom and bc she was a minor a lot of the older kids protected her from tasha and constantly warned her. Sometime between that antitdpopulars came back and more fake asks were posted, populars were being blamed on for the blog to bring attention to themselves. Not sure if it was earlier or at this exact time but i think it would tie into the next event better.

so tasha and stacey had this BIG FIGHT i guess cause stacey outed tasha for running the new anti populars blog and in this fight tasha blamed stacey for staceys parents divorcing and stacey claimed tasha clipped her toenails in a voice call and like. It was so odd at this point tasha started making fake asks about the people who supported her lmao. Then she would submit herself to blogs to send love to ppl being bullied and then those ppl would fight us and the whole night was a mess. Stacey had deleted and then tasha kept her url. I'm p sure sometime later tasha deleted too?? She came back as a sideblog the next time.  

Stacey came back a bit around the same time and ofc had ppl on her side welcoming her back. Almost immediately. Another new persona came in at the time too known as ""fucknmacine18??"" He changed the url to "thechazmeister" or whatever but he was basically a dumb white straight dude fake persona that claimed to have abandoned the south park fandom. Once in the td fandom, he would reblog a lot of the girls selfies and make comments on them also claiming to fall in love w one of the populars? Two of the populars? Idk but point is him being there was. Irrelevant for a while. He would send uncomfortable asks to stacey apparently and also told tasha to fly away/rejected her or some weird shit that happened there idk the story of that but i know tasha was trying to befriend him and flirting w him lmao.

Several hateblogs came out too, one being psychoanalyzing the populars which would reveal incredibly personal information about them (based on their personal posts) and evaluate them. It was a really fucked up blog and no one knew how on earth she managed to get that information. The other one was very tame, it was battleofthepopulars or smthn like that which consisted of the populars being in a td  like setting and each being voted off everyday and like. No one rlly paid attention to it lol. In the end when she booted off one of the populars, she ranted that it was bc she had blamed cherri for something she didn't even do. Which was suspicious seeing as tasha wasnt here around that time, meaning this person knew about cherri being exposed as theconfessioncam.

During that same time, tasha was still very much clinging onto cass. Sending them fanmails as she couldnt send asks since she was on a sideblog. Meaning she followed ppl on an unknown main blog. Cass would receive over 200 fanmails a day from tasha. Tasha even changed her blog's url to match cass'. One night tasha got tired of being ignored and blackmailed cass into talking to them, or their friends would be harassed. The main tag was full of tasha posting edited pictures of ryan on the main td tag, personal posts of another one of cass' friends with the read more code taken off. It was a horrible night. But in the end tasha exposed her main blog was staceyd123. Tasha had faked being stacey which would explain how she managed to get the personal information for her psychoanalyzations blog. She explained it was because she was someone who got kicked out of the fandom by “tortellani and the other populars” and that she finally knew what it was like living like a popular. She then proceeded to spam the tag w animal gore knowing it was a heavy trigger for one of the populars. Stacey/tasha then deleted. Never to be heard of until...oh no wait, we almost forgot our buddy chaz.

So chaz stuck around and made dumb posts and like. No one really cared for him. Until he wanted to be seen as a threat so he made a hate blog on american thanksgiving day taking the populars' descriptions on their mobile blogs and making them bad adding racist/homophobic commentary. It was here where he stole 2 urls belonging to two other populars and tried to pass off as them. Cass had remade, but chaz took their current url (hottiemcfright) as well as the tortellani url belonging to the other person who had changed urls to avoid traffic from TiA. So that night chaz. God it was a blur but he pretended to be those two people and filled the tag w a bunch of animal gore. Tumblr did jump on that and deleted him. Chaz was another of tasha's personas so, NOW we don't hear of tasha until february of 2015.

So now under the url: tashalovesnirvana, she sent popular bloggers racist slurs thinking she was on anon and then begged for them not to be posted and theyre posted for everyone to read. No one thought twice about it when the screenshots were going around but eventually ppl in the td fanbase noticed that tasha had sent those. And i mean, you can basically look this up as it spread from just the td fandom to literally all of tumblr knew about her. They made her asks into copypastas. And it got rlly funny bc at some point she didnt even know who kurt cobain was.

Anyways after this mess she deleted but she came back. Except this time tumblr updated the blocking system so it could actually work. And boy did it work well. Tasha did get 15 minutes of fame (or less) again when she came back but everyone would just block her and she would never be heard of again. She was still there reblogging posts from the ppl she hated toLet them know. She would try to get their attention but. The moment she would contact them she'd get hit w the block button. So naturally she brought back her persona "holly" as a stoner girl "holly-smokes-molly" who also had a short lived fame but then, again, people stopped caring after they had blocked her.  One of her comebacks was her coming back as a woke feminist but no one else cared about her. Tasha was an old meme, so 2 years ago. No one else gave attention to her.

In 2017 she finally deleted. Like the url isnt even hoarded so that's how u know that it's all done. It took 3 years for her to leave us alone. 3 traumatizing years. A lot of the people involved were minors too.

I know i probably messed up some parts of this or got confused w the many hateblogs she made but like. Trust me when i say that she remade so many times it's hard to keep track of all the weird shit she has done. Also i've been typing this since 8am and i still shake a bit thinking about this lol.

[vandykecarolpdrf7]

Beyond Diabetes: Health Benefits of Vinegar

Several of the most popular condiments have something surprising in common. Ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise, salsa, Worcestershire sauce, hot sauce, sriracha, and most store-bought salad dressings have very different flavor and texture profiles: some are sweet, some are salty and savory; some are watery and thin, others are oily and thick. Despite their diverse flavors and wide range of foundational ingredients, one thing unites these seemingly unrelated items: vinegar.

It’s true: I challenge you to go to a grocery store and take a good look at the condiments. You will see vinegar listed among the ingredients in almost all of them, and that’s not even taking into account the myriad forms of vinegar itself, such as apple cider vinegar, balsamic, red wine, champagne, sherry vinegar, and of course, no proper fish & chips meal would be complete without a generous splash of malt vinegar.

It’s also interesting to note that culinary traditions all around the world include various types of pickled vegetables or condiments. In East Asia, there’s kimchi and pickled ginger. In South America, they enjoy curtido; in Eastern Europe there’s sauerkraut and pickled beets, and proper French charcuterie plates and Italian antipasto trays typically include cornichons or brined olives, respectively.

Vinegar has been part of traditional ethnic cuisines around the world for centuries. And while we can’t assume that an ingredient or culinary technique is beneficial merely because it’s been employed by many disparate groups for a very long time, we ought to at least give that possibility some consideration. If certain culinary and gastronomic approaches have persisted through the ages, there are probably some good reasons why. Modern science is catching up to what the cooks of yesteryear seemed to know instinctively: vinegar has some interesting properties, some of which might be of special interest to people following a ketogenic or low-carb diet to help manage blood sugar.

Vinegar as a Natural Digestive Aid

As I mentioned, cuisines all over the world include some type of vinegar or pickled foods with meals. Is the bright tang vinegar provides the only reason for this, or did those ancient cooks know that vinegar brings something to food besides a pleasant little jolt to the tongue?

It’s not hard to connect the dots between vinegar and better digestion. After all, vinegar is acetic acid (molecular formula CH3COOH). As I discussed in my article on GERD and acid reflux, contrary to popular belief, for many people, indigestion and acid reflux result from too little stomach acid, rather than too much.

Hundreds of years ago, long before anyone had ever heard of HCl (stomach acid), it probably wasn’t difficult to observe that when acidic foods or condiments were consumed, digestion went a little more smoothly. (Especially back in the days before Facebook and smartphones, when there wasn’t a whole lot to do after a big meal except sit around and think about how your stomach was feeling.)

Pickling foods in vinegar is a very effective food preservation technique. Even foods that are naturally fermented will eventually end up pickled. Take wine, for example: grape juice is fermented into alcohol, but if the fermentation continues for a longer period of time, the end result is vinegar. In fact, this is where the word “vinegar” comes from: vin aigre, or “sour wine.” (1)

Vinegar is a Powerful Antimicrobial Agent

Vinegar is used as a food preservative precisely because it’s antimicrobial and deters against the proliferation of harmful bacteria. (2) For this reason, it’s also a go-to ingredient for non-toxic household cleaning applications, including laundry, wiping down countertops, and even cleaning windows. It was also used medicinally in wound care and fighting infections as far back as 2000 years ago. (3)

As an interesting aside, here’s a neat bit of information you can use at your next potluck gathering: surely you’ve heard tales of food poisoning caused by potato salad left out on a hot day, like at a summer picnic. Mayonnaise typically gets the blame for this, but guess what? It’s not the mayonnaise that goes bad; it’s the potatoes! It’s true! Mayonnaise contains enough vinegar to keep the bad bugs from proliferating in it. The potatoes, on the other hand, are a bacterial amusement park.

Vinegar Helps Moderate Blood Sugar

This is the most intriguing aspect of vinegar for people on low carb or ketogenic diets, especially for those eating this way to help manage type 2 diabetes or insulin resistance. A surprising amount of scientific literature confirms that vinegar has some impressive effects when it comes to moderating postprandial (after meal) glucose and insulin levels. Vinegar? For blood sugar regulation? Who would’ve thought?

Vinegar Reduces Postprandial Blood Glucose & Insulin

Here’s the overall gist:

In type-1 diabetics, type-2 diabetics, and healthy, non-diabetic subjects, vinegar reduces postprandial blood glucose and, to a lesser extent, postprandial insulin levels.

Taken collectively, studies examining the effects of vinegar on glucose and insulin have included subjects who use no medication as well as some on exogenous insulin and/or oral glucose control aids; people ages 21-79; and with BMIs ranging from approximately 21-34. (According to the BMI scale, a “normal” weight is a BMI of 18.5-24.9, overweight is classified as a BMI 25-29.9, and a BMI equal to or greater than 30 is considered obese.) (4) So the relevant studies encompass wide ranges of ages, body sizes, and medication status, which is important because it tells us the effects observed weren’t limited to healthy, lean, young people.

Taken as a whole, research indicates that vinegar reduces just about everyone’s blood glucose and insulin, but people with type 2 diabetes generally experience a less pronounced effect. (Meaning, their postprandial blood glucose is lower with vinegar than without it, but the reduction typically isn’t as large as that seen in non-diabetic subjects.) This may be because diabetics have poorer glucose control to begin with, so something that’s known to help will still help, but to a lesser degree than for someone who does not have diabetes.

A splash of vinegar isn’t powerful enough to get anyone off their medication, but considering the devastating effects of chronic hyperglycemia and hyperinsulinemia, it certainly never hurts for a diabetic to have another tool in their arsenal—particularly when it’s something as readily available and inexpensive as vinegar.

A Closer Look at the Science of Vinegar and Blood Sugar Composition of the Meal Containing Vinegar

The effect of vinegar on blood glucose is different depending on the composition of the meal consumed. One study showed that vinegar was more effective in lowering postprandial glucose after a high-glycemic index (GI) meal versus one with a low GI. (5) This is probably because a meal with a lower GI would theoretically have less of an impact on blood glucose in the first place, so there’s less of an effect to be had anyway. The study involved type 2 diabetics (non-insulin dependent using diet or metformin alone for disease management), and demonstrated that 20 grams of wine vinegar (6% acidity) reduced postprandial glucose after a high-glycemic meal but less so after a low-glycemic meal containing the same total amount of carbohydrates and also matched for the same number of calories (isocaloric).

For a quick lesson into how mindboggling nutrition research is sometimes, the “low GI” meal in this study consisted of whole grain bread, lettuce, and low-fat cheese. Yes, bread. And low-fat cheese. Whole grain bread, yes, but still — bread, in a meal that’s supposed to be low glycemic. (I suppose it was, at least compared to the high GI meal, which was instant mashed potatoes and low-fat milk!) Anyway, according to the paper, the two meals contained the same amount of total carbohydrate, but the high glycemic meal had a GI of 86, compared to 38 for the low glycemic meal. (6) (The glycemic loads were 44 and 20, for the high and low meals, respectively. See here for more on the distinction between glycemic index and glycemic load.)

Composition of the Carbohydrates in a Meal Containing Vinegar

Related to the glycemic index of a meal, another factor that may influence the effect of vinegar on postprandial glucose (PPG) is the composition of the carbohydrates. A study looking at the effect of vinegar on PPG divided subjects into four randomized crossover intervention groups in which some subjects consumed a mix of simple and complex carbs while others consumed only simple sugars, in the form of a dextrose solution. (7) Three of the four study arms included healthy adults while the fourth included type 2 diabetics not on insulin. The study used both apple cider and raspberry vinegars, helping to establish that the glucose-moderating effects were not limited to apple cider vinegar, which is the one most commonly used in similar studies. Compared to placebo, 10 grams of vinegar (5% acidity) reduced PPG by 23-28% in healthy non-diabetic subjects consuming the starch and juice. In the diabetic subjects, the vinegar treatment resulted in a 13-17% reduction in PPG compared to placebo: less of a decrease than for the healthy subjects, but still potentially significant given the severe consequences of chronic hyperglycemia.

How did the study authors create a placebo for vinegar? Good question! (I mean, if you think about it, it should be pretty obvious when you’re eating or drinking something that has vinegar in compared to something that doesn’t.) One of the studies that used a placebo added saccharine (an artificial sweetener) to the vinegar to take away the acidic bite, and the placebo was water with added saccharine. (8) Both the vinegar and the placebo also had food coloring added. The intense sweetness of the test drinks in association with the bright red, blue, or green color of the drinks were intended to conceal the presence of vinegar. (We could speculate that the saccharine might have introduced a confounding variable with regard to blood glucose & insulin, but since both the vinegar group and the placebo group ingested the saccharine, we would hope that even if it did have an effect, both groups would be affected equally, essentially neutralizing any difference between the two.)

Ingesting Vinegar May Lead to Reduced Hunger

In most of the studies, postprandial blood glucose reached a lower peak and came back to baseline more quickly with vinegar ingestion than without. One of the studies’ subjects reported an increased degree and duration of satiety after the test meal with vinegar versus the one without. (9)

That’s fancy-speak for saying that when vinegar was included with the test meal (wheat bread providing 50 grams of available carbohydrate), the subjects felt fuller and stayed fuller for longer than when eating a meal without vinegar. I am speculating here, but perhaps the increased satiety is connected to the aforementioned better digestion: If you are digesting and absorbing more of the nutrients in your meal, it makes sense that you’d feel more satisfied and possibly have a longer sustained feeling of satiety than if some of the nutrients were being lost to suboptimal digestive function.

Vinegar Reduces Blood Glucose and Insulin

The studies that measured postprandial glucose and insulin generally showed that both of these were lower in the vinegar groups. This is important, because lower glucose at the expense of higher insulin is not necessarily a desirable thing. (10) (Even in the absence of elevated glucose, chronically high insulin appears to be a major driver of cardiometabolic disease.) (11)

The fact that insulin was shown to be lower after meals containing vinegar suggests that the lower blood glucose is not due to increased insulin, and it may in fact be the reverse: insulin might be lower because glucose is lower. Less of a spike in glucose means less insulin is needed to clear it out of the bloodstream. So we can rule out the likelihood that vinegar lowers blood glucose by raising insulin.

How Does Vinegar Affect Glycemic Impact?

The blood glucose moderating effects of vinegar appear to depend somewhat on the food matrix in which the carbohydrate is presented. If the carbs are in liquid form and don’t even have to be broken down in order to be digested (such as in juice or sugar-sweetened beverages), then vinegar provides virtually no benefit.

A food’s glycemic index and load matter, and researchers also speculate that the amount of fiber and the ratio of amylose to amylopectin could also be a factor. (12)

In other words, vinegar might have more or less benefit, depending on whether the food is, for example, potatoes, bread, parsnips, beets, or beans. It might also have differing effects on the same food depending on the level of processing — such as a whole, intact baked potato versus puréed mashed potatoes that don’t even have to be chewed, or a salad of whole wheat berries as opposed to whole wheat crackers that liquefy in your mouth when you mix them with saliva for a few seconds and also don’t need to be chewed.

Taken as a whole, studies indicate that it’s not the total carb content of a meal, but rather, the degree to which the carbs need to be broken down in the digestive tract, that determines how much of an effect vinegar might have — if any.

Add vinegar to a can of soda, and good luck stopping that skyrocketing blood sugar. But dip a chunk of bread in olive oil and lots of balsamic before a pasta dinner and maybe there’s something to it. And don’t forget that adding vinegar to certain starches that have been cooked and cooled to produce resistant starch, like a potato salad or sushi rice, is another way to reduce the elevations in glucose and insulin. (13, (14)) If you’re following a keto or low carb diet, pasta and potatoes likely aren’t part of your life anymore, but on the rare occasion when you might choose to indulge, adding vinegar to starchier meals may help slightly attenuate the impact on blood glucose and insulin.

There’s debate among the researchers as to the actual mechanism by which vinegar results in lower glucose & insulin.

How Does Vinegar Lower Blood Glucose and Insulin?

There are two main theories:

1. Delayed Gastric Emptying

Vinegar causes food to leave the stomach more slowly, which results in a more gradual (and lower overall) rise in postprandial blood glucose. This has been demonstrated in healthy, non-diabetic subjects as well as subjects with type 1 diabetes. (15, (16)) Slower emptying of the stomach could also account for the aforementioned reported increase in satiety with vinegar ingestion.

In the arm of a study involving ingestion of a dextrose solution, vinegar had no effect on reducing PPG at any time point, which suggests that vinegar lowers glucose in part by delaying gastric emptying and/or slowing down the digestion of starch and other complex carbs, rather than that of simple sugars.

This would explain why a study evaluating the effects of vinegar in the context of an oral glucose tolerance test (OGTT) failed to show any benefits from vinegar. The study involved type 2 diabetics treated with oral glucose lowering medications who did an oral glucose tolerance test. (17) Average age of the subjects was 65, with an average HbA1c of 6.6, and average BMI 29.7. So this was a relatively small study group of middle-aged, overweight, not-too-poorly managed type-2 diabetics. (HbA1c of 6.6 isn’t stellar, but many diabetics have levels much higher.) The protocol had subjects drink a beverage containing 75 grams of glucose, once by itself, and then again on a separate test day taken along with 25 grams of white vinegar (4% acidity). There was basically no difference in the glucose and insulin levels with or without the vinegar. This should come as no surprise, though: they gave diabetics 75 grams of pure glucose in liquid form and 25 grams of vinegar made no difference in their glucose spike? This should shock exactly no one.

2. Inhibition of Intestinal Disaccharidases

If vinegar reduces activity of enzymes in the small intestine that digest carbohydrates, then fewer simple sugars will be absorbed, resulting in a smaller rise in PPG.

Studies on human cell lines in vitro have shown that vinegar decreases the activity of multiple disaccharidases (sucrase, maltase, lactase, and trehalase), which could certainly affect PPG. (18) Vinegar seems to be effective only in the presence of complex carbs, which require more digestion than simple sugars (monosaccharides). This further explains the lack of effect of vinegar when pure liquid glucose is consumed. Researchers noted, “Vinegar did not alter PPG when ingested with monosaccharides, suggesting that the antiglycemic action of vinegar is related to the digestion of carbohydrates.” (19)

However, even in a meal that did contain liquid sugar (in the form of orange juice), when the meal wasn’t just sugar, ingestion of vinegar was shown to help reduce postprandial glucose and insulin in healthy subjects, in type 2 diabetics, and in non-diabetic subjects with insulin resistance. When subjects consumed a test meal consisting of a white bagel, butter, and the juice (87 g total carbs), along with placebo or 20 g apple cider vinegar (in 40 g water with 1 tsp saccharine), compared to placebo, vinegar reduced the postprandial glucose and insulin in all groups. Nevertheless, vinegar or no vinegar, we have plenty of reasons not to consume liquid sugars.

Timing Matters

Another factor with using vinegar as a blood glucose regulating adjunct is timing. According to one study, 2 teaspoons (10 g) of vinegar ingested five hours prior to a carbohydrate containing meal had no notable effect on postprandial glucose compared to placebo, while the same amount of vinegar consumed along with the test meal resulted in a 19% lowering of PPG. (20) Here we have modern scientific evidence supporting the wisdom of traditional cuisines that employ acidic or vinegar-based condiments, especially along with starchier meals, such as pickled ginger or kimchi served with rice, dipping bread in oil and vinegar, or a German potato salad with vinegary mustard. (See here for tasty low-carb potato salad substitutes.)

Reducing the rise in blood glucose and insulin after meals is a good reason to include vinegar in your diet. Beyond that, though, perhaps the best reason is much simpler: it’s delicious!

Carb Content of Vinegar

Most vinegars are very low in carbohydrates. After all, vinegar is acidic, not sweet. Most vinegars, such as plain white distilled, apple cider, red wine, and white wine vinegars, have 0-1 gram of carbohydrate per tablespoon.

The exception is balsamic vinegar, which is significantly sweeter tasting than other vinegars. Regular balsamic vinegar has between 4-6 grams of carbs per tablespoon. However, some of the more highly concentrated high-end balsamics, such as those available in gourmet stores and the olive oil and vinegar boutiques that are popping up everywhere, will have substantially more, especially if they’re thick and syrupy. These vinegars, which are more like glazes, could pack a carb punch as high as 8-11 grams per Tbsp.

Fortunately, with balsamic vinegar, a little goes a long way so you shouldn’t need very much to achieve the desired flavor. If a recipe calls for a tablespoon or two of balsamic vinegar, even the thicker variety, the carb count per serving will still be relatively low.

Can Vinegar Help People on a Keto Diet?

The studies evaluating the effects of vinegar on postprandial blood sugar and insulin typically employ high carbohydrate meals. Since the effects appear to be dependent on reducing the digestion of complex carbs, people on ketogenic diets might not experience results as pronounced as those of people eating higher carb diets.

However, for people who have trouble sticking to keto (not everyone’s perfect!), it’s not a bad idea to incorporate some vinegar into meals that are a bit higher in starch. And for some people, blood glucose can remain stubbornly high even when following a strict keto diet. This would be another situation where vinegar would be worth trying. Testing blood sugar at intervals after meals containing vinegar would let someone know whether the vinegar is helping.

For people who experience the

https://ift.tt/2Is8PSB

[sawyer-is-unisex]

1 to 30 for the south park asks. I am trash.

30 South Park Asks

1. Favorite main character and why they’re your favorite?

already answered

2. Least favorite main character and why they’re you least favorite?

Eric fucking Cartman

He is an anti semitic, disrespectful Character which treats woman, transgender, disabled (mental or body) and his friends like shit.

3. Favorite side character and why?

already answered!

4. Least favorite side character and why?

Probably Token, everytime he gets screentimes its about ‘He’s rich’ or ‘He’s black’ or ‘playing a double game’. He is such a flat character and i really hope that, he will some screentime where he is actually gets a character.

5. List as many of the South Park kids as you can in order from fave to least fave!

fck. This will take a while and probably its not the right order anyway.

Stan Marsh

Kyle Broflovski

Clyde Donovan

Tweek Tweak

Kenny McCormick

David Rodriguez

Nichole Daniels

Karen McCormick

Ike Brosfloski

Craig Tucker

Gary Harrison (probably Fanfictions fault.)

Jimmy Vamler

Timmey!

Red Tucker

Butters / Marjorine Stotch

Leslie Meyers (don’t ask.)

Annie Knitts

Wendy Testaburger

Dogpoo

Scott Malkinson

6. Any characters you feel you can relate to?

Stan Marsh (Depressions)

Tweek Tweak (Paranoia and the shaking/twitching)

Clyde Donovan (weight problems)

Wendy (feminism)

Don’t like it? not my problem.

7. Favorite adult and why?

already answered

8. Least favorite adult and why?

Randy Marsh. Where should I start?

He haves an alcohol Problem which leads him to stupid actions

He treats his kids like shit (like making fun of stan for his opinion. or laughing at him for being abused by his sister)

He acts like a teenager himself and not like a father of 2 children

He doesn’t talk much to sharon about anything, which you should when you’re married

Not to mention how naive he is.

9. Any characters that you think deserve more spotlight?

Already answered

10. Any dead/one-time characters that you want back?

Gary Harrison

Gary was an intressting Character and i really liked him for bringing some positive vibes into south park.

please come back. qwq

11. Are you someone who has a lot of headcanons for SP characters?

already answered

12. Tell me a headcanon that you have for [character name]!

Where the hell should i start?!

Kenny Mccormick is androgyny.

This is probably my favourite Headcanon among all of my HC’s.

13. Favorite ship? Tell us why!

already answered

14. Least favorite ship? Tell us why! (But don’t tag it; that’s rude!)

Ky/man (if you ship it, better jump this part.)

I’m not really sure where to start on this one but I have to say what makes actually hate that ship is the fact that you ship an anti-anti semitic, which already dressed up as a nazi , with a jew.

Cartman and Kyle have barely moments, where cartman treats kyle with respect.

In MY opinion it’s abusive,disrespectful and not healthy at all.

15. List as many SP ships as you can think of in order of fave to least fave!

That will be fun! B)

Style / Raven x Kyley-B

Bunny

Stlyendyl

KarIke (Karen x Ike)

Kyvid

Stary

Creek

Red/Nichole

Davihole (David x Nichole)

ClyBe

Stylevid

Firklemore (Kindergarten goth x Fillmore)

Staig

any many many more. if nlist more it will be too much. just ask me about a ship and i will answered it.

16. Favorite episode and why?

oooh that’s pretty hard. I mean there are soe pretty awesome episodes. My 2 fav episodes are 

“Marjorine” 

This is a pretty good episode to show how hard and awful girls can be, just because they don’t fight like guys they can be pretty abusive towards new girls. Saying things before thinking can leaves scares and i like how they showed use how much it affect poeple. (I mean Butters is a guy and was pretty hurt by their behaviour so don’t blame it on a girls weakness!)

“The Hobbit”

It started with helping a ‘chubby ‘and a 'less’ attractive girl being a part of the Cheerleader squad, to help and it fast turned around that she was became pretty popular, because of PHOTOSHOP!

The whole Photoshopping situation is pretty dangerous. and it showed us how easily poeple gets tricked to get more like,shares and comments about their look on social media and how you can get cut out for being natural.

Even the downer ending about a crying wendy doing something she is knowing how dangerous it can showed what powergroup pressure can have.

17. Least favorite episode and why?

*cough* whole season 20 *cough*

I can not really decide there several ones (but evering with cartman & nazis are just…i can’t even find words)

18. Describe an episode you’d like to see happen someday!

Stan finally comming out as Bi or Gay

19. To you, what’s the most meaningful moment in the show? 

Showing that even children can get depressios? (You’re getting old & Ass Burger)

Stan really needed help, but for being how he was in these episodes, he was left alone and started drinking and i think thats not too far from reality.

20. To you, what’s the most disgusting/worst moment in the show?

the human centipede parody episode is fucking disgusting

and

The Cartman Nazi/Hitler March. 

21. Do you enjoy episodes that have a focus on the parents/adults?

Well i have to say, it’s more important what happens in an episode (the plot) instead of who is in focus of the episode but most of the time I’m pretty annoyed to see how stupid the Parents behave.

22. Do you enjoy when episodes/seasons have an overarching plot?

And again it comes to the plot itself and I’m sure everyone is interpreting this question different and have different episodes in their mind.

sorry

23. What’s the first episode you ever watched?

oh god. I started watching south park in the 5th or 6th grade so I’m not really remembering it but making me join the fandom active was the creek episode, because of all those fanart from actual south park fans.

24. What’s your favorite South Park song?

already answered

25. How and why did you get into South Park?

First started to watch it

Some random friend talked to me about how funny that show was so i started watching it on the TV at the same day!

The creek episode

I saw different “CReek is Canon” videos on my YT sub-box and asked on my friends what happened and she explained it to me.

So i watched the episode online and goolged where the Fanart is comming from and well, i was impressed that Matt & Trey asked for Fanart and well

so i started to rewatch south Park from the beginning, started to ship Style & Bunny, looked for fanart and joined the Fandom. 

( @mcnuggyy ‘s Style Fanart was my fav back then. I remember it was the first thing showed up on my Tumblr. :) )

26. Have you ever felt weird for liking South Park?

Tbh. I was like ‘shoud i really like this show so much?’ but when i told my mom about it she was like “I’d watch it more often but i don’t the animation style and that makes me less intressted in the show’

not to mention my psychologist was like ‘That’s good! It shows me you are smart enough to understand the humor of that show!’ from his side it was good to like that show! :D

27. Have you watched every single episode?

I’m not sure. sometimes i random skipped through random episodes so i bet i forgot some but i can’t remember all of it anyway.

28. Have you played any South Park games? Which ones?

South Park - The Stick of Truth for my Playstation 3

29. How well would you say you know South Park trivia?

my brain is a mess so not really well but i have no problems with google the shit i need to know. :D

30. Tell us a SP fact; any one will do!

already answered

BUT since there are so many here another one.

Nichole Daniels didn’t got a Last name until the 20th season

[dalhousiediaries]

A Suicidal Rant.

♪ Currently listening to: Playlist: Café montréalais by Spotify ♪ 📚 Currently reading: A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki 📚 

Writing about suicide has never come easy for me.  

Or maybe it has, since every time I sit myself down to write about something, that’s the first thing that comes to mind.  Perhaps I’m fascinated with death and the idea of the paradoxical “life-after-death” belief so many people possess.  But, who hasn’t thought about death once in their lifetime?  I’m no exception.

I’ve been really thinking about this topic, whether to post it up on this blog (dalhousiediaries) or whether to start up a new blog entirely, a new personal blog to post content with topics like this, whenever I feel the urge to write about something philosophical or I guess, whenever I feel the powerful urge to write the deep thoughts that linger in my mind.  The unspeakable content that rests only in the deepest and untampered portions of my brain.

Personally speaking, as a child I never really thought about the afterlife, or what would happen to me after death.  It seemed so laid out to me, almost mechanical.  People would mourn, a funeral would be held, a celebration of life that has passed, and then I guess, people would get over the fact that I was no longer breathing on this planet, in this world, living in this time. However, as I grew older, that changed.  Not the actual process aforementioned, but the sociological and the emotional process of “getting over someone”.  I say this because I’ve felt this firsthand.  

Living in Halifax, being separated from my family and friends back home was basically like dying socially.  I was no longer present to take part in hangouts, physically be there to make new memories and the only way people could interact with me was through the Internet.  You’d think a lot of people would contact me and at least, try to keep in touch, but when everyone’s busy getting their own life together and amid their own worries, I don’t particularly blame anyone for growing distant.   It’s just interesting, in the beginning of the semester, so many people missed me, talked to me, and even cried about my departure – just like a real death had occurred.  It really made me think “is this what would happen if I died?”.  Of course, time stops for no one, and as the months went on, perchance my friends had realized I would be back soon enough or had gotten swamped by the amount of work they had to do in their respective programs, I had stopped receiving such messages and contact from friends back in BC.

I’m not upset about that at all.  Despite what it seems like.  It’s just interesting from my point of view, almost like a simulation of life on earth after my death – only on a much, much, smaller scale.

Why am I writing about this? Did something happen to make me contemplate my own death? Am I suicidal? No, I am not.

I’m currently reading a novel called A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki (a tantalizing read, might I add).  The novel talks quite a lot about one’s inevitable demise, whether it be intentionally sparked or a natural one.  The setting is partially set in Japan around the 1940s(?), and the other half set in modern-day Whaletown, BC, a very real place on the Cortes Island.  The novelist, Ruth Ozeki, encounters a Hello Kitty lunchbox that acts as a safe keep for the diary of a Japanese girl, Naoko Yasutani, who narrates her daily life through purple gel pen ink and a DIY diary.

The perspective switch between Ruth and Naoko is not only well done, but gives a different insight and contrast between the two characters, and their very different lives, despite the same ethnic heritage.  The reader follows Ruth as she reads the log of Naoko, following her life page by page, discovering information at the same time as the audience.  It’s as if Naoko’s reaching out from the right side, while Ruth and the audience are reaching towards Naoko from the left – hoping to collide in the middle.

Okay so, why did this book spark my interest in death and suicide again?

It’s a topic that Naoko toys with a lot in the novel, or I guess, in her diary.  She writes about her and her family’s experience moving from Japan to Silicon Valley in the States due to her father being a computer science programmer or some sort like that, settling down in Sunnyvale, California, where she spent the majority of her life there.  Her family dynamic is drastically flipped on its head when her father gets laid off, and Nao (as she’s commonly referred to) and her family emigrate back to Japan.

Nao gets bullied relentlessly by her classmates. Her mother spends all her days watching the jellyfish in the aquarium before getting an office job. Her father becomes a hikikomori (ひきこもり), spending his days in the park, feeding the crows.  Feigning work in the early days of returning to the Land of the Rising Sun.

Nao’s father, Haruki as his name is revealed, decides to commit suicide by jumping in front of a train, the Chuo Rapid Express, which apparently; is one of the more popular methods of self-execution according to a self account Ruth finds whilst searching for the history and the current whereabouts of the Yasutani’s.

I had understood why Haruki Yasutani would want to commit suicide, his shame from lying to his family about finding a new job, the fact that he had fallen from such a successful position and left with nothing, the stripping of all pride and dignity spending his days feeding the crows at the nearby park, feeling sorry for his wife and daughter especially for not being able to support them.  I guess you could say, he was spiraling into a deep depression.

I, unfortunately, could tie this with the current situation with my father.

I now realize why this topic has been on my mind for so long, why this situation with Nao and her father captivated my interest and cultivated my thoughts to yield this fruit of epiphany.  I suppose I can conclude that I’m writing this, and have been writing about this topic for months because it’s a very real situation that I simply cannot ignore anymore.  Am I venting? Yeah, I think I can say that I am.

Though I’m frustrated, I know someone who’s even more frustrated with themselves – my father.

He’s not dead, readers.

But there’s something that tugs at my heartstrings and some evil spirit that puts in unfavourable thoughts in my daily life.  What if he had died?

It’s natural to see your parents or guardians suffer, to struggle through with the adulty-responsibilities we all have to one day face.  Having said that, there’s nothing wrong with suffering a little bit, to have a bit of hardship in your life to harden yourself into a better person.  The more experience one accumulates over their lifetime, more often than naught, they are more valued, wiser, knowledgeable and so on.  I don’t doubt that at all.

I strongly believe in strength acquired by difficult situations and times.  After all, I have had my fair share of disturbing moments in life, times that have disrupted my, at the time, established rhythmic pattern that made up my daily (mundane) life.  It’s like an iron sword in the making.  The more you forge and burn it in fire, the more strengthened it becomes, or it could take on a different shape entirely and the blacksmith may decide in last minute haste, to produce a sickle or a dagger instead.  Of course I’m no ironworker or familiar with blacksmithing, but there’s my poor attempt at creating a relatable metaphor.

I can confidently say that my parents have seen their fair share of difficult times, for Heaven’s sake, they immigrated to a foreign land with no family other than themselves and me, little to no money and what connections do you think a middle aged Korean couple would have overseas in the land of the maple leaf, hockey, and apparently endless winters, the land Koreans called Kenada (캐나다) rather than the rounder sound that native English speakers called, Canada? I’ll tell you that they had no connections.

I’ve always appreciated the work my parents have put in their life here in Canada.  I’ve always admired the strength they’ve showed over the past 18-19 years, or maybe it was feigned strength in hopes that their only daughter doesn’t catch on to their fears and sense the very real struggles and hardship that living as immigrants unfortunately brings to the table.

Recently, and mayhap this is just me putting up my father’s dirty laundry for all to see, but my father has been acting drastically different – even he’s saying he’s “no longer the same dad as [he] was in the past”, which of course I’ve noticed the change as the years flew by – living with the man for 18-19 years, one would hope I noticed the changes.  He’s a man that would do anything for me, well not anymore I guess but back in the earlier days, I suppose.

The whole reason why we have Sien (my dog) now is because I’ve pestered him for years to get a dog, to which he promised we would when our family became homeowners – a promise that seemed farfetched now, but in 7-8 years we had become just that, homeowners. Along came the dog in another 3 years or so.  Initially against the idea, he gave in just to see me happy, and perchance he noticed my own change in personality, he wanted to see me change positively, secretly praying the dog would aid in my transition back to the positive daughter I once was.

But anyway, my father explained to me the other day, in blind rage, a firm voice with an angry tone yet one can sense the slightest bit of tremble at the back of his throat, that he was changing, like an adolescent in the middle of puberty, like how my mother would one day go through menopause. This is a phenomena I’d like to dub as manopause.

Over the years, I’ve heard some pretty unsettling things fly from my father’s mouth.  Like him asking me whether I’d approve of him dating other women, getting a divorce with mum, or what would happen if he had enlisted in the possible war that might occur between South and North Korea, and if he had died.  He had asked me about the matter of his demise on numerous occasions, each with different executions – from his death in the war, to him killing himself, and how.

I always knew what to say to his questions; his life was his own and if he wanted to get a divorce with mum because he’s had enough, that’s good on him and he can go for it, if he wanted to date other women, sure – only except that I had to pre-approve of my potential step-mother before their relationship escalates.  But when it came to his death, I never knew what to say.  Or more like, I didn’t want to say the wrong thing that could possibly, even if there was a slight chance, intensify his desire to carry out the action.

Anyway, I’m pretty content with what I’ve written and though it wasn’t originally what I had intended to write about suicide and my unruly fascination with it, I feel like this took priority.  If this triggered anyone, I’m sorry – but it really needed to get off my mind and keeping it private or unpublished seemed to defeat the purpose of writing it down in the first place.  Maybe, this is my silent cry for help.  That maybe God is reading this, and can restore peace into my father.

He had told me, again in blind fury; “At least you’re gone in Halifax.  At least you have somewhere else to go here.  I have no where to go.  I’m stuck, stressed.  But it makes me feel better knowing that you’re over there”.

In the odd chance my dad is reading this, because occasionally my mum will read my posts and share them with my father;

Sorry Dad, I love you.