#but is equally quick to jump on that bandwagon

[sp0o0kylights]

Grass is green, water is wet, and Jonathan Byers does not like Steve Harrington.

These are known facts in the universe.

Computers were going to take over the world, a “mobile” phone was being invented, and Steve Harrington had lost most of his hearing.

These were unknown facts--rumors even, if you will. Eddie had never seen even a grain of truth to support any of them. 

(Well, maybe the computer thing, but only because Grant and Dustin both had made a couple of convincing arguments.) 

So he doesn’t think about it, when his freshman gang up on him. 

Doesn’t even factor the “can’t hear well” thing in, when he was tasked (demanded, whined, bitched and moaned at) with helping them explain to Steve why going to the release party of the new D&D box set, located at a hobby store only a mere 2 hour drive away, was important.

Eddie’s not even sure how the little shits got him to agree to do it until he’s standing in the parking lot in front of the former King himself. 

“The store’s leading up to the release with a handful of one-shots.” He’s explaining, unsure whether to pull out the bored act or play up his court jester persona, and thus mixing and matching on the fly. 

He does not care if Harrington doesn’t know what a one-shot is. 

“They’re releasing the set at midnight. You have to be there to get it though, you can’t have someone else pick it up for you because they only got a certain amount in.” 

Harrington’s frowning (no surprise) but it’s not until Eddie is well into his spiel about how his van is already full with the elder members of Hellfire, and thus has no room for the freshmen, that he realizes Steve isn’t quite looking at him. 

Is in fact, looking over his shoulder.

Eddie stops. Follows Harrington’s gaze.

Parked across from Steve’s Beemer, is Jonathan Byer’s barely working clunker car. 

A handful of steps in front of it, and thus nearly right behind Eddie, is the man himself.

His hands are still moving, mouth shaping words silent as he goes, his gaze locked not on Eddie or the kids--but on Steve. 

Who turns back around as Harrington’s eyes slide right back to him. 

“And this is taking place next Friday?” He says, in that sort of annoyed but resigned way parents aim at their children. “After school?” 

“I’d like to go during  school, but the freshmen insist you wouldn’t let them ditch out.” Eddie tells him. “They had two separate arguments about it.” 

Loud ones, that had interrupted the game and given Eddie a migraine. 

Once again Steve’s eyes slide away from him, to Jonathan. 

“They’re not skipping school.” He says suddenly, a glare forming and Jonathan makes an annoyed noise. 

“They argued about skipping, they’re not going to.” He says aloud, and finally steps up so that he’s next to Eddie instead of behind him. 

“Munson slow down, I can’t sign as fast as you’re talking.” He adds, in the hang-dog grumble he’s notorious for. 

Eddie stares at him. 

“Can he seriously not hear me?” 

“No.” Steve and Jonathan answer together. 

“I can kind of still hear,” Steve adds, gaze returning to Eddie’s face. “But its more loud music or noises. I can lip read, but you’re also talking too fast for that.” 

Without pausing, he turns back to Jonathan and says; “Why can’t you take them?”

“It’s Friday.” Byers deadpans. 

Eddie’s not an expert on sign language, but his hands somehow looked deadpan too. 

He’s not sure how Jonathan did that. 

“So?” Steve snarks back. 

What follows is an argument that Eddie is not, at all involved in, mostly because he’s too busy handling the fact that Jonathan Byers has learned sign language, for Steve Harrington, apparently, and given the tone the argument is taking they still don’t even like each other.  

Eventually the argument ends, Steve throwing his hands in the air and demanding that Jonathan owes him. 

(Eventually Eddie will corner the ever so quiet Will Byers and ask why the hell his brother learned sign language for someone he clearly fucking hates.

“Oh they don’t hate each other.” Baby Byers would say, in that shy, quiet way of his. “I think they’re actually friends now?” 

“You think?”

“Well--you’ve seen them.” Will shrugs. “I think being mean to each other is kinda their thing.” 

‘What the hell.’ Eddie would think, right up until he stumbled across one of the kids sign language books. 

Byers the Elder, he decides, isn’t the only person who should learn sign language to chew out Harrington properly.

The pay off is immediate. 

Or at least, the pay off of watching Steve’s shocked face the first time Eddie signs something vulgar at him is, anyway.)

[empressofthewind]

i've seen a few people posting submissions for the previous Meronia Event semi-recently since they're still open, so i'm jumping on the bandwagon and dropping a little excerpt here from the first draft of my last planned fic, that i never ended up finishing. the prompts for this one were hand & gun, which completes the bingo board!! 🎉

~

“You can hold it if you want.”

Near hesitated, eyes shifting between the gun in Mello's hand and his expectant stare. It was that very gun that had been aimed at his head less than a week ago, Mello's finger a millimetre away from killing him, and now Mello trusted him enough to hold it - not just trusted him, but wanted him to, if the increasing stain of impatience on his face was anything to go by.

Near took the offering and turned it over in his hands, studying the details. It was heavier than it looked; maybe a kilogram, if Near had to guess. Its body was mostly silver with a gold trigger and similar gold accents along the top and side of the barrel. A small Celtic cross charm hung from the grip by a chain, several centimetres in length.

He curled his fingers around the grip with one poised on the trigger and aimed it at the wall opposite him, making a small noise that mimicked the sound of a gun firing. Mello raised an eyebrow.

“Do you want me to teach you how to hold it properly?”

Near lowered his arm. “Sure.”

Mello shuffled closer and wrapped his own hand around the grip of the gun, over the top of Near’s. Near's heart rate spiked at the touch, and he watched in silence, equal parts stunned by the sudden contact and mesmerised by the quick movement of Mello's fingers as he adjusted the positioning of Near’s hand. Leaving his index finger on the trigger, Mello shifted Near's thumb higher and his other three fingers lower, just below the trigger guard.

“If you can, it’s always more secure to use two hands.” He retrieved Near’s left hand from where it hung limp at his side and placed the heel of his palm over the exposed section of the grip. His fingers naturally curled around it, covering part of his right hand on the other side. “See how your left hand gives it that extra support?”

Near stared down at the gun and nodded, opting not to mention that the two times he had seen Mello point a gun at someone, only one hand had been involved. Mello released his grip on Near and leaned back, and without the additional reinforcement, Near's arm immediately succumbed to exhaustion and dropped from its outstretched position. Instead, he held the gun low and close to his chest, aiming it at the bed beneath him as if intending to shoot a hole straight through the mattress.

Mello sighed.

“You have to keep it steady, obviously.”

Mello reached for Near again, this time wrapping one arm around him and holding it parallel to Near's. He was closer than he had been before - chest against Near's back, palm against the back of his hand - as he held Near's arm up on his behalf, gun now firmly aimed at the wall. He was so close Near could feel the rhythmic rise-fall of his chest, could hear the corresponding breaths as the air passed just beside his ear. It felt less like the guidance of an instructor and more like an embrace, an intimate touch, and that sensation was as foreign to Near as the gravity of Mars.

From the outside, Near might have looked more stable, with Mello holding his arm and body still. Internally, though, he had been thrust into panic mode; throat dry, stomach twisting, heart kicking violently against his ribcage. His thoughts were moving so quickly, they had blurred into one single noise, the grating buzz of static, and the only words he could discern amongst the chaos were Mello is touching me.

Mello.

“Do you want me to show you the proper stance too?” Mello asked.

It took every modicum of Near's self-control to keep his voice even. “No, that’s alright.”

[thinkingaboutbetterdays]

the graveyard shift. ( frasier crane x reader )

gif belongs to me

From his past with the management from KACL, you predicted Frasier's troubles with the new station manager, and when he returned home after he met with Kate Costas you heard the slam of the door and his thundering footsteps.

You looked over your shoulder, closing your book when he stepped onto the balcony. "It went well then?"

Frasier shoved his hands in his pockets, and you sent him a smile when he ground his jaw.

"Well? Don't leave me in suspense. What happened?"

You moved your legs on the lounger, and Frasier sat down with a sigh. "I'm Captain Midnight." He rested his elbow on his leg, dropping his head onto his hand.

"Ooh, graveyard shift." You giggled when he sent you an exasperated look. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," You knelt behind his shoulders, placing your arms around his neck. "When do you start your new time slot?"

"Tonight."

"You'll never get any sleep. You'll be exhausted." Knowing he had an earlier meeting this morning, you went to bed earlier than usual last night. "What are you going to do?"

"I have no choice. I have to show up tonight. I'll have to cancel our reservation."

You rubbed his shoulders, "That's okay. I always preferred coming home to the fine dining." A smile formed on your lips when his back straightened, catching your meaning.

"Oh really?"

"But if you want to sit around and mope I completely understand." You pulled away as you got to your feet, lingering in the doorway to send him a smile over your shoulder.

"Moping?" Frasier stood up, following after you when you headed down the hallway towards the bedroom. "I'm not moping! See?" He flashed a toothy grin and you shook your head when he caught up to you as you opened the door.

You frequently listened to his radio show while driving, or while you were sitting reading, or cleaning the condo. He had told you about his miserable Christmas when his son didn't come to Seattle and he agreed to do a show. You knew tonight would be much, much worse.

You heard the moment he began to lose interest in the calls that were gradually getting stranger and more boring with each caller and after he told an insomniac to get some sleep - likely falling asleep in the booth, you decided to pay him a late night visit at the station.

The roads were nearly deserted at one in the morning and you arrived at the station quicker than normal due to the lack of traffic. When you entered Roz sent you a smile and as she filled you in on how their night was going, and the reason why Frasier had been placed on the graveyard shift in the first place, you knew that desperate times called for equal measures.

You sent your boyfriend a wave when he glanced your way, his head swiveling back when he realized you weren't a figment of his imagination. He cut to a commercial break and took off his headphones as you entered his booth.

"I thought you could use some cheering up. And coffee." You poured two cups of coffee he had imported from Costa Rica and handed one to a grateful Roz who endured the burn to waken up a little.

"How much did you hear?"

"Oh, I've been listening since you started. Nice work with the insomniac." You teased with a smile.

"Well, I try."

"You fell asleep, didn't you?"

"We both did," Roz admitted before leaving the booth to return to her desk.

You shook your head, and sat on the edge of the desk, careful not to touch anything. "You know what you need to do."

"Sleep?"

You gently tapped your foot against his leg. "No. Well, yes, but later. First...fight fire with fire. She wants excitement? Give her what she wants, and a little more."

Frazier sipped his coffee and leaned back in his chair as he considered it. When a grin formed on his lips you knew he was in agreement. He set his cup down and pressed a button that allowed only Roz to hear his voice as he explained your plan. The brunette was quick to jump on the bandwagon and you blamed most of their excitement on their exhaustion.

The corners of your lips tugged upwards as Frasier handed you a pair of headphones and addressed his listeners. You put them on as he picked up his own, leaning into the microphone as he spoke.

"Okay. We're back Seattle. And in accordance with new station policy we are going to be pandering to the lowest human instinct. In other words...who wants to talk about sex?" He repeated the word sex eight times and you covered your mouth to supress your laughter when Roz played a whip sound effect and he cheered. "I want to know who is having sex, how you're having it - I wanna know if you're having it right now!"

You looked at Roz through the glass when her voice came through the headphones. "Look, Dr. Crane the lines are hot. Really hot."

"Thank you, Kitty." Frasier chose a button at random and spoke to the caller. "Hello, caller. What are you wearing?"

"Nothing." The woman caller replied.

"Hey, that's a great idea! Let's all get naked!" Frasier looked at you, you raised an eyebrow when his eyes glanced at your legs that were peeking out from beneath your dress.

"Uh-uh." You shook your head, beginning to wonder if you used water in their coffee or vodka.

Your eyes widened when he announced he was getting naked and he removed his headphones, taking off his blue sweatshirt and jeans while Roz adressed the listeners.

"While Dr. Crane strips, our new station manager would like to know if you would like to be the spanker or the spankee."

"Oh, definitely the spankee." The woman caller replied.

You couldn't hold in your giggles when he tossed the blue sweatshirt towards you, catching it as he told the woman caller to hop in a cab while waving his jeans around.

"I'm not wearing any pants!"

The graveyard shift just got interesting.

You stayed for the reminder of the show and drove Roz home when it ended. You arrived at the condo to find the living room lit from the early morning light coming from the balcony and left your keys by the door as you headed to the bedroom. A fond smile formed on your lips when you saw Frasier lying on top of the sheets with his shoes hanging over the edge. He had driven home and collapsed on the bed.

You took off your trench coat, draping it on the armchair where you put your shoes on every morning and removed his sneakers, tucking them under the armchair to avoid tripping over them. You toed off your shoes and placed them next to his before joining him on the bed. Frasier stirred when you cuddled into his side and placed his arm beneath your head, his other arm draping over your waist.

"How did we do?"

"I think the city of Seattle will be talking about it for a very long time."

"Good." He ran his hand down your hip and turned his head when he felt how short your dress was. "Is this the dress that I think it is?"

You tilted your head up to meet his cobalt gaze, "Maybe."

"You were wearing that the whole time? I feel underdressed."

"Not necessarily." You tugged on his well worn blue sweatshirt with a slant smile, "I happen to like this shirt very, very much."

"Oh really?" He shifted until he lay facing you and your smile grew when he brought you closer.

You hummed, closing your eyes when his nose brushed yours, followed by a feather like graze of his lips on yours. "I thought you were tired?"

"You know, it's the strangest thing. I suddenly feel invigorated."

"Oh really?" You placed a hand on his cheek when he hummed, feeling the rumble of his chest as he brought you closer.

Frasier leaned in, his lips enveloping yours and you moved your arm around his neck, smiling into the kiss when he rolled over, hovering above you as his hands explored every curve beneath the tight fitting dress. He had many weaknesses when it came to you, but the little black off-shoulder dress was the greatest.

Later that day he was dragged into Kate's office after she listened to the taping of his show and when he left her office the smile that was on his lips when he left the condo that afternoon hadn't faltered.

You were sipping coffee at the dining table when the door opened, and he held it as he announced his victory. You clapped your hands, and he bowed as he closed the door.

"All it took was for me to pretend as if I wanted to do themed shows and she was telling me not to outside her office and," he clapped his hands together, "all is right with the world again.

"You stuck it to the man!" You raised your fist, tilting your head, "Or in this particular case a woman."

"She wanted raunch and we gave it to her." He walked over to you and rested his hand on the back of your chair, smiling down at you. "Hi."

"Hi." You mirrored his smile, lifting a hand to his jaw as he leaned down to kiss you. "We make a pretty good team."

"Wine?"

"It's three o'clock." You giggled, turning to watch as he walked over to fetch a bottle of wine and two glasses.

"So? It's eight o'clock somewhere."

You smiled when he wiggled the glasses, nodding, and he joined you at the table. He poured two glasses of wine and you toasted to his victory.

"To the graveyard shift."

"May I never endure it again."

You giggled, nodding in agreement as you clinked your glass with his. You took a sip and as he set his glass on the table, you noticed his stare and the slight curve of his lips.

"What?"

"I know why you did it. Why you drove in the middle of the night to the station." He paused. "You knew you would miss falling asleep next to me."

You lifted your legs onto his lap and brought your glass to your lips. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Uh-huh." You shared a smile with him as you both drank your wine.

He knew you would never admit it, but it was readable from your expression, and he knew he was right. Every night, ever since you first spent the night at his condo when you started dating, you always fell asleep in his arms. It was a simple thing, but sometimes even the small things mean the most. He too, treasured that time as you talked before falling asleep. Kissing your head and telling you he loved you quickly became a part of his nightly ritual and Frasier couldn't imagine being without it.

He hoped this was the last time he was ever assigned the graveyard shift because he wanted to enjoy every single night, talking to you long after you both should have fallen asleep, kissing you and telling you he loved you and falling asleep with you in his arms. Every night he spent without you before you met felt like a waste, and he savored the time you spent together.

[vendekin11]

Vending Machine 101: Picking the Perfect Vend for Your Trendy Business

In a world that thrives on convenience, the vending machine has transformed from a mere snack dispenser into a multifaceted business partner. With the global vending machine market projected to reach a jaw-dropping $6.97 billion, it’s clear that these machines are no longer just about chips and soda. From cosmetics to mobile phones, businesses of all shapes and sizes are jumping on the vending bandwagon. But before you invest in a machine, it’s essential to find the right fit for your unique needs. Let’s break down the key ingredients to a successful vending machine purchase!

Types of Vending Machines: What’s Your Flavor? First things first: not all vending machines are created equal. Your product dictates your machine. Are you dispensing hot coffee to sleepy office workers? Opt for a cashless coffee vending machine with a heater. Planning to sell refreshing ice cream on a hot summer day? You’ll need a machine with a refrigerator. And for delicate items like milk packages? An elevator vending machine is your best bet. Vendekin’s Expert Tip: Identify your product mix before diving into machine selection. Understanding your target audience will steer you toward the ideal vending solution!

Size Matters: The Goldilocks Principle When it comes to machine size, you don’t want it too big or too small; you want it just right! The size of your vending machine should match your product turnover and the available space. If you expect quick sales of snacks and beverages, a larger machine might be necessary to minimize the hassle of constant refilling. However, in cramped office spaces, a mini coffee vending machine might be your best option.

Location, Location, Location! The location of your vending machine is as critical as the machine itself. A high-traffic area like a mall or metro station could be a goldmine, but make sure the machine can handle the hustle and bustle. Consider clearance space, power outlets, and any security measures you might need. Vendekin’s expert team can help identify profitable locations using their smart cloud-based vending software, vNetra. With data-driven insights, you'll be sure to hit the jackpot!

User-Friendly and Hassle-Free Vending machines should make life easier for both you and your customers. Before making a purchase, test the machine's usability. A seamless experience is key—after all, convenience is the name of the game! Vendekin-powered machines streamline the process into three simple steps: scan, select, and pay. Plus, Bluetooth connectivity ensures smooth transactions, even in low internet conditions. Vendekin’s Expert Tip: Check the manufacturer’s service offerings. Will they manage restocking? Who handles technical issues? Knowing these details can save you a lot of headaches down the line!

Tech Savvy is the Way to Be The right technology can elevate your vending game. Look for machines that support cashless payments, flexible pricing, and promotional features. With Vendekin’s smart vending machine software, you can manage your machines remotely and leverage data analytics to enhance your business strategies

The Vendekin Advantage

Investing in a smart vending machine is not just about filling it with products; it’s about harnessing data to drive your business forward. With Vendekin, you gain access to crucial insights that can help you fine-tune your offerings and maximize profit margins. Plus, Vendekin assists operators in sourcing products at competitive prices—because who doesn’t love better profit margins? In conclusion, choosing the right vending machine is akin to picking the perfect partner: it requires careful consideration and a bit of strategy. By following these tips and embracing the smart solutions Vendekin offers, you’ll be well on your way to vending success! So, are you ready to take your business to new heights? Your vending adventure awaits! Learn More:

[collymore]

It's our culture say the scum with none or any notion of what the word really means!

By Stanley Collymore

In this bull running and similarly other equally barbaric animal abuse cases, undoubtedly tradition and culture are vile terms used by the clearly poorly educated and also totally ignorant to excuse their horrific acts. Traditionally, Cordoba was truly, the very unquestionable heart, of the Islamic civilization obviously located on the Iberian Peninsula and clearly many towns, and several villages in Spain too, with their Islamic history. Those originally that evidently built these towns and general locations were well known as and obviously crucially similarly also, thoroughly well respected, as quite peaceful individuals. Islam itself, evidently means peace and, therefore, the baiting and distinctively barbaric murder of animals for supposed entertainment is obviously quite undoubtedly distinctly evidently forbidden! Which, undoubtedly, means that these clearly evilly, toxically verminous, scum are, at best, simply selective about history; and a bogus heritage!

(C) Stanley V. Collymore 7 August 2024.

Author's Remarks: It never fails to amaze me, even though I'm fully cognizant of the truth, of all these very intellectually challenged, lowlife scum, who are clearly always very quick to jump on the cultural and traditional bandwagon scam, in effect have no actual authentic links to those identities they obviously very vaingloriously like to claim as indigenously their own, and in the case of the UK and actually specifically England proseltyse as crucially theirs. Classic cases being Boris Kamal, aka Johnson; Tom Bauer aka Bower, Nigel Farage, and equally Tom Robinson, with his multiple surnames - just a brief sample who like to clearly delude not only themselves that they are irrefutably unquestionably, distinctively evidently more English/British than even Stonehenge and in that vein swindle all the gullible thickos that believe them, when they are no more truly, authentic British/English/Scottish/Welsh than I am, essentially an Eskimo. No offence at all to those indigenous Eskimos on my part.

And the clowns in Spain with their evidently likeminded barbarism fall squarely into the same category. And yet they all have the gall to effectively specifically criticize Auschwitz, Dachau, and Belsen Bergen etc. What's the basic difference between the aforementioned and bull baiting, bull fighting and other barbaric- treatments of defenceless animals for clearly sick human so-called entertainment?

[roybrigance]

Why Cryptocurrency Is a Smart Investment Option

Ever wondered why so many people are flocking to cryptocurrency? Maybe it's the allure of being part of something futuristic, or perhaps it's the stories of those striking it rich overnight. But here, let's break it down beyond the hype. When we think about bitcoin synergy, it's not just about jumping on a bandwagon; it's about recognizing the potential of a fundamentally transformative technology.

Why is cryptocurrency a good investment? Start with the basics. Decentralized cryptocurrencies include Bitcoin. They're not regulated by a government or financial institution. Like having a bank in your pocket that no one can touch. Decentralization decreases manipulation risk and allows investors more control than traditional currencies.

Let's discuss returns. Cryptocurrencies are known to be volatile. Prices might quickly rise and fall. But high risk brings high reward. By playing their cards well, cryptocurrency investors have made short-term profits that traditional stock markets rarely equal. If you catch the correct wave, you can ride to the shore, but beware of wipeouts.

It's not just about quick gains. Cryptocurrencies are mainstreaming. Large firms and banks are accepting and investing in cryptocurrencies. This increased acceptance legitimizes and stabilizes the market. Like when independent music hits the charts, it's no longer an underground trend but a mainstream one.

Another issue is security. Blockchain technology powers cryptocurrencies, a digital ledger that is nearly hard to alter without discovery. In an age of digital security, this security aspect makes cryptocurrencies an enticing investment. Think of it as a locked, monitored vault.

Don't forget accessibility. Traditional financial institutions are complicated, but investing in Bitcoin is simple. Trading cryptocurrency is possible anywhere with internet connectivity, including New York and the Andes. It removes obstacles to investment and democratizes finance. Like an all-access pass to a former club.

How about the future? Blockchain—the technology behind cryptocurrencies—is constantly evolving and expanding. Blockchain could transform healthcare, finance, and other industries. Today's bitcoin investment may be like early 2000s internet investments. Consider what it could become, not just what it is.

Remember that investing in Bitcoin is not about following a trend. Understanding and trusting technology is key. Each bitcoin investment is a vote of faith in a more transparent and equitable financial future. Are you ready to reconsider your portfolio beyond stocks and bonds to include digital assets? We should embrace the new yet proceed cautiously, like smart investors.

[esglatestmarketnews]

How ESG Factors Drive Sustainable Growth in the Online Grocery Sector

Grocery CEOs, consumers and grocers envisage online shopping as the next big thing, spurred by technological advancements and greater convenience. The COVID-19 onslaught was partly attributed to online grocery flooding the market. While leading players and startups jumped on the bandwagon, ESG watchdogs were wary of the sustainable impact the industry would have on the planet. Stakeholders are expected to harness gender equality, fair wages, waste reduction, responsible sourcing of farm produce and sound corporate governance. 

The ease of browsing, getting items ticked off and quick delivery have been a revelation—a delivery service delivering to multiple homes has negated the need to drive to the store. More than 17 million metric tons of CO2 pollution are attributed to weekly household trips to the grocery store, a report cited by the U.S. EPA claimed. Incumbent players have furthered investments in electric vehicles (EVs) to offset greenhouse gas emissions. In April 2022, India-based Swiggy, a food delivery company, joined forces with EVIFY to enable grocery and food delivery through EVs in Surat, Gujarat. 

Industry leaders are likely to emphasize upstream transportation (farm-to-retail) and foster last-mile transportation—pushing for deliveries and offsetting personal trips. Centralized grocery delivery services and fulfillment centers have brought a paradigm shift in minimizing GHG emissions and food loss. State-of-the-art technologies, including predictive analytics, can provide the silver bullet to prevent pilferage and streamline sourcing. Besides, boosting access to affordable and high-quality fresh food, along with the focus on diversity, integrity and transparency, will remain instrumental for a circular economy.  Is your business one of participants to the Online Grocery Industry? Contact us for focused consultation around ESG Investing, and help you build sustainable business practices

Kroger and BigBasket Invest in Climate Strategy for a Sustainable Future

The online retail boom and an emphasis on speed and user experience—instant delivery—have disrupted e-commerce business models. Brands with sustainability strategies appeared resilient during the COVID-19 outbreak, banking on online shopping to conserve raw materials and minimize GHG emissions. Kroger is poised to establish a new Scope 3 goal for supply chain emissions reduction in line with its Science Based Targets initiative (SBTi) commitment. The American retail giant has set 2030 sustainable packaging goals, such as using 100% recyclable, reusable and/or compostable packaging. 

Amidst emerging climate risks and opportunities, Kroger inferred using infrared refrigerant leak-detection technology in 2,000 stores. Meanwhile, in 2021, Bigbasket, a TATA Enterprise-owned online grocery retailer, teamed up with New Leaf Dynamic to install a biomass-powered chiller that can save 186 tons of CO2 annually. The Indian giant cited in its Green Report 2022 that it produced 5,457,000 kWh of solar power (reducing 1,670 tons of GHG emissions) in 2022 and 5,458 electric delivery vehicles helped minimize 7012 tons of CO2 emissions during the period. 

Amazon Fresh Navigates Changing Social Landscape 

Amidst rampant layoffs and the prevalence of workplace injuries, grocery warehouses and fulfillment centers have prioritized the social pillar. In January 2023, Amazon announced over 18,000 job cuts, denting workers across industry verticals, including grocery stores. People employed as supply chain managers, program managers, software engineers and store designers bore the brunt in online grocery delivery and fresh stores businesses. That said, the American behemoth inferred in May 2023 that it had poured CDN 25 billion since 2010 in its Canadian operations, including job creation and establishment of data centers and fulfillment centers. In September 2021, the U.S. giant committed USD 1.2 billion to offer 300,000 employees education and skills training programs till 2025. 

Incumbent players have upped investments to make the workplace safer and foster a healthy environment. Amazon has a team of health coordinators, physiotherapists and advisors. The occupational doctors perform medical checks and report trends in major risk areas. 

The U.S. e-commerce company has augmented diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) efforts to underscore its sustainability quotient. In 2021, it committed to a 30% rise year over year in hiring U.S. black employees in level 4 through level 7 from the preceding year’s hiring. The multinational company warrants 100% of employees to take inclusion training. 

Governance Key for Relentless Sustainable Goals of Rakuten and Walmart

Sound corporate behavior is second to none for an agile business process and an inclusive global system that complements ethical business practices. Rakuten creates a list of ESG themes with the assistance of external experts and refers to the UN Sustainable Development Goals and Sustainability Accounting Standards Board (SASB) Materiality Map.

The Japanese company has appointed Chief Compliance Officer (CCO) to undergird compliance management. It has banked on a risk-based approach to define high-risk issues and implement measures, such as prevention of money laundering and terrorist financing; prohibition of bribery and corruption; and adherence to competition, antitrust and other related laws. 

Rakuten has propelled board diversity—outside directors account for 58.3% of the BoD, while 25% are foreign directors. Meanwhile, Walmart expects Board members to disclose their race/ethnicity and gender annually. Its board had 27% women and 18% directors who are racially/ethnically diverse (as of April 2023). 

Millennials and Gen Z want the e-commerce sector to foster social contributions, operate in a responsible supply chain and bolster transparency. ESG reporting could be pronounced, prompting online incumbents to further their investments in sustainability. Grand View Research anticipates the global online grocery market size to depict upward growth through 2030. Investments in the circular economy can create momentum and be a differentiating factor in an ever-growing competition in the online grocery business. 

Related Reports:

Real-time Payments Industry ESG: https://astra.grandviewresearch.com/real-time-payments-industry-esg-outlook

Digital Payments Industry ESG: https://astra.grandviewresearch.com/digital-payments-industry-esg-outlook

Business Process Outsourcing Industry ESG: https://astra.grandviewresearch.com/business-process-outsourcing-industry-esg-outlook

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[the-blind-one-speaks]

Aight I’ve been seeing too many purring vampire tropes not to jump on the bandwagon. I love it too much. Scary murder death lad just melting…. Mmmmm…. And some feral vampire, that makes all these little sounds humans can’t make to communicate? Ooh yes. Loving it.

…………

The creature was huddled into the farthest corner of the cell, pressed against the wall until it looked like they were trying to melt into the stone. From what Hunter could see if it’s face beyond the muzzle and beneath the filthy, matted hair, it’s eyes were wide, glazed with pain and blown wide with terror.

The werewolf crossed his shaggy arms over his torso, eyeing it speculatively. “This is the basilica haunt?”

The villager at his side nodded, careful not to make eye contact with the towering soldier. “Yes, sir. We reported it as soon as we knew it was wanted, sir.”

Hunter slid him a glance, the gold of his eyes dancing with green flecks that caught the torchlight and seemed to glow. Not that the villager noticed, of course. He was too used to the whole “never look death in the face” ideology. Wise of him.

“Once you knew it was wanted — not when you first caught sight of it?” He gave the man no time to formulate a stuttered reply. With a frown, he cocked his head, taking in the story written within the cell and its occupant. He hardly needed the intimidating middling form he’d chosen for this venture to smell the full extent of what had been done here. The cell was rank. He wrinkled his muzzle in distaste, baring his silver fangs.

“Yeesh, you’ve had this thing down here for weeks, haven’t you?” The creature flinched and scrambled to lower itself to the floor, shivering. The longer he stood here, studying it, the more that Hunter felt his emotions curl up into the cold center that had once rested where most men had a heart. This was an all-too familiar sight, once. He had to remind himself that he was better than that, now, that he didn’t take joy in the blood-spattered walls and the quivering heap in the corner. Still, the smell of pain and fear was intoxicating, and he felt his lips twitching into a instinctive smile at the strength of it.

“How did you catch the blood-sucker, anyway?”

“It was hibernating, sir,” the man’s voice was trembling. Fear prickled, tangy, under his sweat. It was nothing compared to the waves of terror rolling off the creature, though. Even without a heart to beat, Hunter could hear it panting rapidly behind its muzzle. Those lungs heaved and struggled, unused to the exertion. He flicked his ears, dismissing the information. It was unnecessary, as was the man’s explanation. He was half-listening, of course, but if the creature had been hibernating it would have been child’s play to catch.

“How many of your people did it harm?” He interrupted. The man faltered for a minute. In the growing silence, Hunter felt rather than saw the sudden unease. The villager’s eyebrows drew together. Hunter felt himself relax, his muscles loosening from their rigid posture to one more suited for quick movement.

“Harm, sir?”

“How many of your people did it drain before you captured it?” He left out the torture part. That was obvious enough from the state the cell was in, and the squirming, whimpering thing on the floor. He could smell ashes, too, and it did not escape his notice that there was a skylight that could only be reached from the outside. Where the creature was huddled would be in direct sunlight if the blanket was removed. He knew that was agony for such creatures. There was a reason most of them had ebony skin, and it was not because they cherished the sun’s loving rays. No, these were creatures of the night, and he welcomed the challenge they presented when he was sent on assignment to hunt one down. Of all the things in the known world, they were the closest he had to an equal. Aside from dragons, anyway, but he wasn’t fool enough to tangle with them.

“None, sir.”

In the silence that followed, Hunter could hear the faint, latent beat of a third heart. He blinked away his surprise. The creature had a heart. That was… unnerving.

“How man of your people were attacked?”

“None, sir.”

“None at all?”

The slight hesitation in the man’s words were telling. “We captured it on sight, sir, before it had the chance to do any injury.” The man’s voice was defensive. He tried to keep his tone even, but all that Hunter could do was laugh. He tipped back his shaggy head and let his mirth bubble out of him, the sound anything but humorous. He shook his head, flicking his ears a couple times in an attempt to fling away the urge to tear the man in half just for the sake of feeling something rip apart between his bare hands.

“The capture I could excuse. The torture?” He drew his lips back, baring his teeth in a furious parody of a mocking grin. Flinging his broad hand at the cell, he allowed his claws to flex as they swung past the man’s face. “This? With revenge as a motive, I could understand.”

There was a whimper from the corner of the cell. Hunter ignored it, eyes locked in the man’s face. The human was white with fear, flabby jowls trembling, jaw hanging half-open as excuses died in his tongue. Ignoring the foul smell of the man’s breath, Hunter leaned in closer. He snarled. “How dare it exist as anything but a human. That is a crime, indeed.” He felt the emotions in his breast coil hot and tight, rushing to fill his veins with warmth. He chuckled without any humor. “What a shame. I had just gotten used to existing myself, actually. Care to have a go?”

The man turned and fled. Hunter bit back the leap that was quivering at his legs, forcing down the instinct to pounce. With a long, rattling exhalation of breath, he turned to gaze into the cell. “Fucking monsters,” he muttered. “Of course it had to be my assignment. Brianna’ll be lucky if I don’t slaughter the whole village.” He shook himself roughly, like a dog ridding itself of water. When the last tremor had run down to the tip of his tail, he dropped his weight forward and did it again, perched on all fours. He felt much calmer, some of the rampant energy pulsing through him expelled. He had more important things to do than deal with disgusting humans. He always had more important things to do.

He padded into the cell.

…..

Sterling watched the werewolf prowl closer through wide eyes. He had heard the stories. He’d been sleeping for maybe a hundred years, but he had still heard the stories. Hunter was even older than his sire, and everyone who wanted to live back then had whispered in the dark about the young werewolf who had risen up and slaughtered his own pack. He’d even destroyed the lake, determined to be the only and thus strongest of his kind. No more lake to swim across, no more way to be bound by the curse, no more werewolves who could possible challenge him.

Sterling had been awake for this hell of two and a half weeks, and now the werewolf was coming for him, and all he knew how to do was sob.

His sire was dead. He wouldn’t have slept so long if he had still been alive. Sterling depended on him for safety, to come and awaken him when it was safe for him to come out and stretch his limbs, savor the moonlight for a while. Sterling only knew how long he’d slept because he could recognize the language the humans spoke — could recognize it, but not speak or understand it. The dialect was far too strange, the grammar mangled, the pronunciation sloppy. He’d been around for enough language shifts to understand the time it took for it to change so much. His sire was gone. Sterling was alone. He had nothing left and no one to protect him. No one was coming for him. He had wallowed in pain and just wanted it to end.

At least, he thought with some hysteria through the dull ache and sharp pains that had become his body, he would know what it was like to be bitten himself. The werewolf would use his fangs, when he decided to finish him off — they were silver, part of the curse; only another werewolf could do lethal damage to one of his own kind. The werewolf would have no problem with executing him. He couldn’t resist. He was just happy that at least the werewolf was experienced enough with killing to know what he was doing. He might die relatively painlessly, if the werewolf wasn’t bored and felt like it. He hoped he wasn’t bored. He’d been entertaining the villagers for far too long.

He shut his eyes, listening and praying to whatever deities would listen that he would die quickly.

The click of claw against stone drew closer, closer… and stopped. A ruffle of warm air brushed his face, ghosting across his eyelids. He whined at the breath.

“You really do have a heart, don’t you?” The wolf’s tone was thoughtful. Sterling cringed away, breath stuttering. No. No nononono. He couldn’t be interesting, he couldn’t be intriguing — all he wanted was to be dead! “That can’t be right.”

Sterling squinted at him through his eyelashes, hot tears prickling. The werewolf was squatting over him, palms resting against the stone floor, head cocked. A frown pulled at his muzzle, drawing his lips down and converting his fangs. Sterling looked away.

“You’re rather young, aren’t you?” The tone was soft, softer even than his sire spoke to him, and he was the gentlest person Sterling had ever known. The tears gathered on his eyelashes. The werewolf huffed softly into his face, crouching down further, until he was laying in the floor of the disgusting cell. “No worries, little pup. I won’t harm such an injured cub. I am not the man I once was.”

The tears spilled onto Sterling’s cheeks, hot against his clammy skin. He was exhausted. There wasn’t enough left in him to be terrified. His sire had warned him of this, the wolf’s tendency to play with his prey. Why did he have to toy with Sterling, though? Why must he be so cruel?

Sterling hissed weakly at him, the force of expelling the sound rattling his broken ribs. He coughed behind the muzzle and whimpered around the iron bit, scorching his tongue once more. He was lucky it hadn’t burned through, honestly. The werewolf shushed him, dwindling into his man-form. He reached for the muzzle with those disturbingly human hands and Sterling finally knew the mercy of blacking out before the pain began. He hoped never to wake up again.

….

It was warm. He recognized the brush of fur against his cheek and nuzzled into it, sighing. He was floating, wrapped in something firm and soft, tucked against a radiant heat and the sound of a steady, pounding heart. He kneaded his broken hands deeper into the fur, letting himself drift. Somewhere, high above him, he could hear the gentle sound of the moon singing its lunar lullaby.

Cold air, fresh with the scent of pine, stung his lungs. He coughed weakly, drinking it in, listening for the sound of his sire’s dark wings brushing together as he came in to land. His back prickled and ached where his own wings had never grown in, but he did not hear his sire returning. He clicked and chirped weakly, sending a question into the cool night.

A hand gently tangled in his hair, scritching at his scalp. He muttered in the back of his throat, not wanting to awaken from the dream. It was broad and rough, lacking the slender sophistication of his sire’s hands, but he pushed weakly into it, chasing the sensation of being coddled, of being held. When the touch cupped his skull in its palm, cradling his head, he allowed a pleased chirp to echo out of him. The sound was interrupted by a rumbling purr, his thin chest loosening with the vibrations as he melted into the touch.

He was completely enveloped, held carefully in a way that soothed some of his hurts while irritating others, but all he knew was that he never wanted it to end. Was this the embrace of death? Why hadn’t he tried dying sooner, if that was the case?

“Poor little pup,” a gruff voice muttered, the tone obviously unused to speaking with such softness. “Little cub, I will take care of you now. You rest up, pup.” The hand holding the back of his head began to slowly massage at his scalp again. He purred louder, nuzzling into the embrace. A sigh rumbled out of him, quavering with the force of his contended purr. He clicked and muttered in the back of his throat, kneading his hands in the warm, soft fur that surrounded him.

His sire would be back soon, he was sure of it. In the meantime, this friend he must have sent was being kind and gentle. He would savor it while he could, for as long as the dream lasted.

After all, some part of him knew he was not to wake up again.

He purred louder and drowned out that voice. It was not long before he fell asleep, cradled in the arms of a stranger and the song of the moon.

[renaerys]

22. for reds 🤡

This is 100% not what you asked for (yet...👀), but I give you part 1 of what we're calling the Weird King AU. I'm turning this into a proper multi-chapter High School fic because I love you and I'd jump on any bandwagon for you.

xxx

Like most young, conventionally attractive Supervillains, Brick had made a bit of a habit of failing upwards. It was pretty easy in a town full of simpering morons content to project their own narrative assumptions onto him, and who was he to crush their dreams when they made his life a little easier?

For example, dating.

“You can tell me, you know.” His cute date, Tracy, sipped her milkshake across from him.

“Tell you what?”

She softened and reached her hand across the table. “Your tragic backstory. I’ll listen without judgment, I promise.”

Brick tried to think of something tragic, but it all seemed pretty underwhelming as far as Supervillain origin stories went. “You mean like how I was born in a toilet?”

She made an oh shape with her lips. “We all have those days where we feel like we were born in a toilet, Brick.”

He’d dated Tracy for three months before she broke up with him out of the blue in tears: sorry she couldn’t fix his baggage, she just wasn’t strong enough to handle all that tortured darkness, but she wished him nothing but health and happiness. Brick deleted her number from his phone and spent twenty whole minutes staring at the toilet in his bathroom, wondering what the lesson here was.

But everything changed when Mojo got out of prison and moved Brick and his brothers back to Townsville, where he enrolled them in the local high school alongside their former arch nemeses, the Powerpuff Girls.

Suddenly, everything Brick did pre-supposed ill intent. These people remembered him as the pest who had graffitied their local monuments and blown up their cars and endangered their children. They held no love for him, and at best they feared him. This was not Citiesville, where he’d been a tall, cold glass of Voss water in a sea of recycled Dasani.

He found himself thinking about his birthing toilet again as he stepped into the cafeteria alone and the conversation quieted down as his new classmates watched him from the safety of their tables. His next moves here were critical. He was no longer at the top of the food chain, but fear and mystery surrounding his origins and character gave him a certain power over his peers.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of social suicide, I will fear no cringe,” he said to himself.

The jocks were out. Capable though he may be, Brick was not much of a team player unless there was a blood contract involved requiring his participation on pain of satanic torture. The drama kids were also a hard pass, not because he thought drama was lame, but because they had barely noticed him walk in, and Brick did not have the energy to deal with people more self-involved than himself. Some of the unaffiliated tables could be safe, but without a good understanding of the nuanced social dynamics in the high school, he could be heading toward irreversible doom, and that was a risk he was not willing to take.

He saw his salvation just ahead. It was the only option, all else being equal. In an environment where he couldn’t be certain of his baseline status and potential for upward mobility, there was greatness to be had only by association and certainty only in the devil he knew.

Brick helped himself to the empty seat directly across from Blossom Utonium to a chorus of gasps and staring.

Blossom did not startle like her table mates had. She watched him critically behind a head full of bangs as she balanced her soup spoon in her hand. “Really.”

Brick unwrapped the burrito he’d purchased in the lunch line and brandished it before him. “Really.”

He took a bite of the burrito. It was not hot enough. The two girls to Blossom’s left whispered to each other about that bad boy and he’s hot, though.

Blossom daintily spooned soup into her mouth without spilling a single drop as she continued to watch Brick for signs of his imminent dark side transformation.

The guy next to Brick was brave enough to ask him what his next class was. Brick had a mouth full of disappointing burrito, so he passed the guy the printout of his class schedule in lieu of answering.

“Wow, all APs, huh? Hey, we’re in U.S. History together next period, nice. I’m Mike Believe, by the way. Brick Jojo, right?”

Brick didn’t answer him immediately on account of the burrito currently occupying his mouth hole, and Mike took it the wrong way.

“Oh, yeah, we all know who you are. Blossom sort of filled us in.” He winced like he’d inadvertently revealed a terrible secret.

Brick swallowed his food and washed it down with a gulp of water. “Saves me some time.”

Mike looked super relieved. “For sure! Hey, I could lend you my notes if you want to catch up. Gershwin’s giving a quiz on the Progressive Era on Friday, and she’s a hard-ass who definitely won’t care that you just transferred…”

Brick chewed on his lunch as Mike continued to talk at him about classes and other vaguely helpful, albeit uninteresting, information. But Mike seemed normal enough, a little chatty but not in an overeager sort of way. Blossom was no longer clocking his every move and seemed to be absorbed in her friend’s latest swim team cheating scandal, until Brick reached for his water bottle and she suddenly laser-focused on his wandering hand.

Her keen attention to him was honestly flattering, if expected. It was in his nature to be noticed, and in this narrow respect she was no different from anyone else whose head he turned. If she chose to feed her interest with the flames of suspicion, then it was no difference to him.

But if she was anything like him—and on a chemical level she was probably the closest to him that a person could get—he suspected it took tremendous effort to hold her full and sustained attention. The world they inhabited was as vapid and mundane as the humans that surrounded them, and even the most gracious of gods grew bored of worship. Which explained all the smiting and fucking and generational curses upon entire households in everything from Greek mythology to the Old Testament.

Brick was pretty deep into a fantasy of Blossom going full Ixion and the Wheel on the swim team when Mike tapped his shoulder. “You ready to go?”

It took him a moment to realize the bell had rung and he had a class to get to—AP U.S. History with Mike, apparently. Brick gathered his tray and his bag and followed Mike. When he looked back at the table, Blossom was already gone.

xxx

That whole first week was painfully boring. No one bullied him, or pranked him, or picked a fight with him, of course. But no one really approached him, either. His brothers were more determined to make an effort. Boomer announced he was trying out for the soccer team because there was no rule saying a Super with extremely well documented ties to active criminals and the forces of Hell couldn’t kick a ball around a field. Butch had gotten himself invited to a midnight screening of Snakes on a Plane in some rich kid’s home movie theater, but only after that same kid had accidentally spilled milk on Butch and burst into tears in front of a cafeteria full of Juniors and Seniors. Brick declined the invitation Butch extended to him. He had that AP U.S. History exam to study for on Friday, anyway.

He shared all of his classes with Blossom. Even in the classes where her assigned seat was behind his and he couldn’t see her, he could feel her lobotomizing stare at the back of his head whenever she glanced up from her notebook. And while Mike’s notes were perfectly adequate and the friendly gesture counted for more than the content (a gesture Brick would not soon forget), there was a far more efficient way to accomplish his goal of murdering the class averages while also taking the edge off his loner doldrums.

“Can I borrow your class notes?”

Blossom rose from her seat and pulled her hair tie out to re-do her extremely long ponytail. She held the elastic between her teeth as she worked. Her teeth were very straight, he noticed. Some pretty nice girl-teeth, generally speaking.

“Which class?”

“All of them.”

He watched her wind the elastic around her hair with quick, adroit fingers. “That’s a lot of notes.”

“You’re the top of every class. No point in asking anyone else.”

She moved toward the hall. He followed her out. “Why would I help you?”

A legitimate question delivered without venom. Unlike her sister Buttercup, who’d “run into” Brick after school on Monday and told him to watch his back, Blossom didn’t have to do anything but maintain a general proximity to make her superiority complex known. Which was the kind of flex he could fuck with.

“Isn’t helping people sort of your mandate?”

They had arrived at her locker, which she opened with enough force to rattle the hinges. “I help the helpless. Are you helpless, Brick?”

Brick smiled at her baiting. Had she ever actually said his name at a normal volume before? It sounded good even in her baseline bitch timbre. “Critically helpless. I’m the new student who transferred in the middle of the semester, and you’re the only person who knows me.”

A couple other students clearly trying to get to the lockers Brick was blocking hovered just out of reach. They whispered to each other, but neither of them actually worked up the courage to ask Brick to move. He ignored them.

Blossom rummaged in her locker for the binder she would need for the next class. “Make friends.”

“Working on it.”

The locker door slammed and she faced him. There was something confrontational in the way she held herself before him that kicked him in the nuts back in time thirteen years to their more uncouth days when all he wanted to do was destroy her so he’d be the only one. Now they were older and wiser and he actually did need her notes to study, so destroying her was not high on his list of priorities.

“You want to be my friend.”

“We have so much in common.”

“So do lions and hyenas.”

“Both are apex predators, so.”

She took a step closer and peered up at him. Brick did not move, although he wondered what was so interesting about his face. She probably just thought he was hot. She was probably as bored as he was. She probably—

“You have lettuce in your teeth.”

Brick pulled back and covered his mouth on instinct. God fucking damnit.

Blossom was already walking away from him by the time he’d picked the food from his teeth. “I’ll expect my notes back in mint condition before first period tomorrow morning.”

Brick pressed a fist against the lockers and quietly fumed. “Dumbass…”

“Um, sorry, but do you mind…?”

The student who’d been waiting for her locker space to clear up had her palms up as if to assuage a feral stray. Brick pushed off the lockers, but his fist left a dent where he’d unleashed some of his impotent self-pity. He looked back at the girl, and she shook her head.

“It’s fine! It, uh, it happens sometimes.” She pointed a couple lockers down to Blossom’s, which was dinged up worse than the others.

Brick stared at Blossom’s locker, and then back at the girl. Her narrow, dark eyes were wide, but not out of fear. She was waiting for something, and like an idiot it took him a moment to catch up. “You’re trying to make me feel better about fucking up your locker.”

She laughed nervously. “I mean, it’s really fine! You just looked so miserable for a second there, and I just thought…”

Great, he was moping so hard he had an audience.

The five minute warning bell rang, and a flood of students rushed past them on their way to fourth period. Brick stepped aside so the girl could get to her locker.

“Hey, you’re the new guy, right?”

The new guy, yeah. How quaint. Except, she was waiting for a response, which wasn’t the absolute worst thing that had happened to him all week.

“Brick,” he said. But of course, she already knew that, and she was just being nice.

“I’m Kim. Kim Chan.”

“Okay.” He didn’t have anything else to say to her, so he decided to get his shit and get to his next class.

“Welcome back to Townsville, Brick.”

Brick shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked off. It didn’t occur to him until later that Kim was the first and only person who had properly welcomed him back home.

[welllpthisishappening]

So, Thanks to TOPBL I watched my first Hockey game, any tips for new hockey fans?

Oh hai there, anon! First off: I am so psyched to hear you watched your first hockey game! Let my legacy on this site be somehow convincing people to watch hockey because they read a bunch of words about a fake team with questionable friendship-type boundaries. Second: as far as tips for a new hockey fan, I am equally psyched you'd come here to ask for such a thing.

And, like, my best advice is to be a fan. I sound like I'm brushing you off, but I promise I'm not. Jump into this. Right into the metaphorical deep end. Made all the more metaphorical since the water in this sport is notably frozen. Pick a team (the Rangers, pick the Rangers) or randomly decide to assign all your player-focused love to an equally random player (this is almost entirely how I decided to love Chris Kreider) and get into it. I thoroughly endorse the concept of bandwagon fans. Ride that bandwagon, please. Pick the last Stanly Cup champion because they just won! Or the exact opposite! Find what you love about this ridiculous sport and then love it because there really is a lot to love, including but not limited to:

Dumb hockey boys. Seriously they're so dumb. Like, those are professional athletes in that gif. Every member of the New York Rangers is almost painfully in love with the others.

Ridiculous team traditions. And that's not just in the NHL, either! I'm not a huge college hockey watcher, but they're there too.

An insanely fast pace. This game is so quick and things can happen suddenly and that is (in my not so humble opinion) the absolute best part.

It has nothing to do with how fast Chris Kreider skates. Nothing at all. No. Nope.

Rivalries. The other day, the whiteboard in our kitchen read: FUCK THE ISLANDERS. Just 'cuz.

I know some people aren't super into the Winter Classic and Stadium Series games, but...I am, so it's going on the list. They play outside! Sometimes in the snow!

Rules that occasionaly won't make sense and will infuriate you! This is also going on the list because like what is a game if I don't yell THAT'S A GODDAMN PENALTY, PUT YOUR HAND UP ALREADY at the ref. (Bonus points when the ref has put his hand up and I just haven't noticed.)

Hockey is weird, anon. Like, seriously. Stop and think about it and it's so weird. This is a sport with sticks and a tiny little piece of rubber that gets hit around with those sticks. And, like, knife shoes that people wear on frozen water. It's also not all sunshine and good things and I will be the first to admit that hockey needs to fix a lot of things about itself. A lot. And that's not always great. It does sometimes make it difficult to root for the NHL as a league. Still, I do think it's possible to keep rooting for the sport itself and the players and all the good things that make it my absolute favorite thing.

So, enjoy it, anon. Root for ridiculous things and random people and yell at the TV. It's more fun that way.

[ghostgirl19posts]

WIP Wednesday

Don’t mind me jumping on the WIP Wednesday bandwagon! This one is one of my oldest wips, and not even Hylia knows when I’m actually going to finish and post it xD It’s inspired by a post I saw here on Tumblr, where a prince or princess ties a key around a cat’s neck and whoever gets the key gets to marry them. 

Of course, I had to change a couple details to make it BotW Zelink ;)

.....

“A frog?” Link observed, peering down at the creature with a raised eyebrow.

In the face of such scrutiny, the amphibian simply blinked up at him with large, yellow eyes and a blank look on its face, appearing none too offended. Then again, it was a frog. Could it even feel indignation from Link’s judgmental stare?

“Not just any frog,” Zelda said archly, taking a moment to smile down at the creature sitting calmly in the cusp of her hands. “A hot-footed frog.”

Link rolled his eyes. “Well, excuse me, Princess.”

Zelda pursed her lips. While she immensely enjoyed how close she and the knight have gotten since first becoming acquainted, enough for him to loosen up around her and show a little bit of attitude, she wasn’t appreciating his cheek at the moment.

“I was with the researchers while they were conducting their experiments this afternoon,” she spoke, choosing to ignore his comment. He’d warm up to the frog soon enough. “One such experiment was how hot-footed frogs like this one here can augment certain abilities if sampled.”

Link’s lips flattened into a line, fighting the urge to gag. Please, please by ‘sample’ she didn’t mean…

“You know,” she said thoughtfully, looking up and likely far away, lost in her own musings.

It happened frequently for the Princess of Hyrule, and while many held the opinion that it wasn’t something a princess with responsibilities should have a habit of doing, Link secretly found it endearing. It was moments like these, with her head in the clouds, that he could take his time in appreciating her beauty.

“With your level of physical fitness, you’d be a perfect candidate for the study!”

Link was abruptly shot back down to Earth with a bomb arrow.

Oh no.

“Go on!” Zelda urged, pushing the frog closer to his face. “Taste it!”

Link grimaced, taking a step back from her and holding up his hands.

There were a lot of things he’d do for Princess Zelda. He’d eat the dubious food that smelled odd and tasted stranger she’d sometimes create for him. He’d do a backflip off Shatterback Point if it would entertain her. He’d even brave a hundred gold lynels if it meant keeping her safe, and then rummage through their insides to find the guts that she would be ecstatic to study.

But licking a frog was just crossing the line.

“Oh, fine,” Zelda pouted, seeing as she wasn’t getting anywhere after Link’s repeated refusals. “Be that way. I don’t need you for this experiment anyway. I’m sure I will find an exceptional candidate soon.”

She was looking at him out of the corner of her eye. It seemed she was searching for a specific reaction from him. Link, observant as he was (especially when it came to Zelda), unfortunately had no clue what she was looking for.

In the face of his unchanging clueless expression, Zelda huffed and shook her head. Oh well. Her meaning would become apparent soon enough.

“Never mind. But you’ll at least help me name this little one, won’t you?”

“It’s a frog,” Link deadpanned.

“A hot-footed frog!”

“I know, I know,” he groaned, refraining from rolling his eyes. He already got away with it once, he doubted he would again. “But I don’t see any point in naming it. Wait, you’re not planning on keeping it, are you?”

“Of course, I am!” she snapped. The frog jumped in her hands, perhaps sensing his owner’s dismay. Zelda was quick in making soft shushing sounds and using a finger to stroke the top of its head, leaving Link slowly shaking his own in equal parts astonishment, disgust, and exasperation.

[chaoticspacefam]

Subterfugeverse Name Pronunciations

Jumping on the name pronunciation bandwagon cause I’ve seen a couple of my mutuals doing this *fingerguns* and I realised that even though I included it on the fancy bio page (yes, I’m still working on it I haven’t forgotten, I just need more screenshots/pictures and time to write out all the detailed lore schtuff) I forgot to put it on the mobile Masterpost. So I’ll be popping this link onto there now too for everyone’s perusal :’D LONG POST AHEAD

So, the only ones I ever really used specific “grammar” rules for were the tomato family (+ Aria because her name is actually rooted in High Sith), all the others are just pronounced as we would normally use the syllables in English.

I haven’t got any OCs rn who would have used Common Sith, they’re all Highborn Nobility Brats 🤣 so High Sith it is pshshsuysgd

I used the canonical information we’re given on the pronunciation of the vowels, I ignored absolutely everything else about it bc if you scroll down and read the bit at the bottom of “Behind the Scenes” it’s clear that the phonetics are a hot dumpster fire so it’s basically free real estate* *a.k.a. I used my (admittedly limited) MFL knowledge of pronunciation in Afrikaans and German to make “educated guesses” on what seemed to flow best with the vowel sounds so pls don’t come for me and be gentle, I’m trying to make them sound ✨pretty✨ while still being as lore-accurate as is possible mmmhmm

Ok good, without further ado then~

The Ahaszaai - High Sith

“Ahaszaai” itself is pronounced “ahh-zzy-aye” (with a very quick “flow” and little pause between the first and second syllables, but more stress on the final syllable, as in “buy”). Phonics-wise, I could have spelt it “Aszai” and kept the pronounciation the same per the messy “rules” given by canon, but I think “Ahaszaai” reads a lot nicer, don’t you? :D

Saarai

“szah-rye”

“S” is more of a “Z” sound in both Afrikaans and German so it made most sense to me, to say the same would be true in High Sith given the “hardness” of the vowels. It flows together better. As with her family name, the end of Rai’s name is stressed on the last syllable (as in “buy”) as well. Named both for the High Sith word, meaning “Truth”, and chosen by her father due to the similarity with her late grandmother, Saa’thri (”szah-th-ree”), as a way to honour her memory.

Ni’kasi

“nee-kah-zhee” ETA: after some time and a lot of research, I’ve discovered that Kas’s name  DOES in fact have a meaning in High Sith, it means “Divine Warpath” (yeah, D’leah went hard with her kids’ names sjkgdjkgd). Again, as is true with a lot of Sith words, all long vowel sounds here. Ni’kasi’s name tends to sound a lot more “elegant” than her twin’s, as the  “s” in her name is softened by the surrounding vowel sounds, whereas Saarai’s is a lot harder as it preceeds the vowels ;)

Kissai 

“kee-sz-igh” Named after the Priest caste of old (by the same name), for his more serene personality. This is somewhat ironic, as topping out at near 7 feet tall it’s almost certain that he had Massassi (Warrior caste) blood in his line and was unlikely to have been related to any Kissai-caste Sith at all.

D’leahane | D’leah*

*whose name breaks nearly every “rule” but she’s the token red herring don’t mind her lmaooo

“Duh-leh-nuh”, the second “a” in her name being a silent letter that isn’t enunciated with the others | “Duh-leh”

Abaron

“ah-bah-ron”

Not much to add about this one! Basically what it says on the tin!

Tyûk

“tee-uck”

From the High Sith word meaning “Strength”, Saarai wanted to give him a “strong” name in the hopes that it might bring him better fortunes in his life. For so long, part of me wanted to break the “rules” here and pronounce it as “tee-yook” because it would have sounded equally plausible, but if I’m gonna treat the other circumflexed letters as short vowels like they’re supposed to be then the same thing has to apply to Ty’s name. 🤣

Shakkai | Sha

“zzh-haah-kye”  | Zs-hah

Same as her sisters, “s” makes a “z” sound, for her “full” name the vowel sound is quite drawn out, but for the shortened/nickname version both the beginning syllable and the vowel sound are shorter and less stressed.

Her name doesn’t have a particular meaning, I just liked the way it sounded. There’s a word on the known vocab list (without a translation), “Shokkai”, I typo’d an “a” instead of an “o” - I already have a “Sho”, so I’d decided her nickname would be “Sha” instead so I wouldn’t get confused - when I did her first Character Sheet but actually liked how it sounded so I kept it hahaha

*fun fact, I nearly named her Shâsot which means “passion” but it just didn’t sound “right” as a name, so I went with Shakkai instead.

Paalea Izreni | Paa

“Paah-lee-uh ees-ren-ee” | “Paa” is literally just like the first syllable of her full name

Just like “s” makes a “z” sound, “z” makes an “s” sound. She gets to go here because she’s Kissai’s half-sister and therefore through marriage is part of the Ahaszaai family, even if she still uses their family’s “maiden” name and not the Ahaszaai name herself.

Again, it doesn’t mean anything in particular, it just sounded pretty *shrugs*

Non-Ahaszaai High Sith Names

Other characters who were named with the High Sith language, though they don’t belong to the Ahaszaai bloodline.

Aria

“Ah-ree-ah”, all long vowel sounds for her, no short “uh” ‘s here, vowel sounds in Sith are loooonggg (unless you’re D’leah because she said “fuck you Elven this is my name we’re keeping it” XD) , which means absolutely no “arrie-uh” either, please, you’ll upset her.

“But Elven “arrie-uh” is a real name and that’s how we would pronounce it!” Well, yes, except that Aria’s father actually named her for the High Sith word “Ari” (ah-ree), which means “Lord”, and not our version of the name and therefore, she uses the “Sith pronunciation” :’D

Chwûq

“Chuh-wuck” One of Aria’s Tuk’ata, named by her father Roan when he earned their trust, Chwûq’s name means “Embers” and was chosen for the glowing appearance of her eyes. All short, quite heavily stressed syllables for her name.

Taral

“tah-raah-ll” Aria’s second Tuk’ata and Chwûq’s mate. From the High Sith word meaning “He who protects”, for his loyalty to his mate, Roan and Aria.

Kahri

“Kh-haah-ree” Ni’kasi’s pet miniature sleen, named for the High Sith word meaning “Fang” (yes, she gave her lizard the lame typical “dog” name, but it sounds so much cooler in High Sith! 😂). The first syllable is heavily stressed, as if with a catch in your throat.

Naalush Zuzuul | Alu

“naah-loosh soo-zool”, as with Aria, the first syllable of his nickname is drawn out, like “ahh-loo”, not a single-syllable, “alloo” as it would be in English.

Tsâhis Zuzuul

“saah-hees soo-zool”

Pretty standard pronunciations, neither of their names mean anything, I just put together some Sith phonics and they came out pretty neato! ^^ Using the same logic from the “s” sound, I’m assuming “z” and “ts” can both function as a phonetic “ss”, the second “z” in their last name is a little more stressed and closer to an English “z” - it just sounds less weird that way ok guys? Good. ^^

Others - Elven Is Too Lazy to Separate The Rest By Species

Vano Shenly | Va

“Vah-noh shen-lee” | “Vaah” (in her full name the syllable is quite short, but for the shortened version that Aria, Merak and Vette use as her nickname, the “a” sound is a little more drawn out ;)

Merak Shenly

“murr-ack shen-lee”, pretty much how it’s spelt again. His and Vano’s are by far the easiest ones to not get “wrong” pfpfpf

Zi’verikreen | Ziri/Zee

“Zee-veh-ree”, “kreen” is pronounced pretty much as spelt. “Ziv’eri” is a Twi’leki word meaning “scorching”, for her fiery personality. I couldn’t find any solid fanon on Twi’leki phonetics/pronunciation (*cough* and I fell down the spiky tomato rabbithole and started to obsess over them instead*coughcough*) so I kind of used my best judgement here, other than Saarai, hers is one of my favourite names to say. It’s just so ✨pretty✨. Zee is pronounced as spelt, but Ziri is more drawn out, too, like “zee-ree”, though Ziri is far less “fussy” about pronunciation and will answer to “zir-ee” too, she doesn’t really care too much as long as you’re not cussing her out.

Roanan Saal | Roan

“roh-nahn” “s-aah-l” (short first and last syllable, long middle syllable) | “roh-ahn” (like “rowan”, but with a longer last syllable!)

Myala Thulie | Myla

“mee-ahr-luh thoo-lee” | “mee-luh”

mee, not my or mai for this lady! I have no elaborate explanation for this one, I just thought it sounded prettier this way

Qanarr Thimu | Qan

“Kwan-arr thim-oo” | “Kwan”

first “a” sound is somewhat stressed, as in “band” and “stand”, rest I think is self-explanatory. Again, no canon material on Catharese pronunciation so I did my own thing :3

That should cover all the mains I’m pretty sure?? If I’ve missed anyone give me a shout. How many did you have “correct” from what you thought, let me know in the tags or replies, I’m curious! :’DD

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

I'm glad someone else realises how shitty Clark treated Kara, and how that must have absolutely sucked. Like, he left her with the first people he could think of, and from what we've seen, didnt even call or visit her for years because 'it was too dangerous' yeah right. Fuck off Clark, you're a piece of shit. Kara, a literal teenager, was willing to take and raise a baby on a new planet and a grown ass man couldnt be bothered taking in a traumatized teenager. Like, makes me so mad. Like so mad.

Well, I personally don’t mind that Clark recognized that he wasn’t capable of raising a teenager, and tried to give Kara a better life, but his distance after is what bugs me. If it was bad enough that Alex is the one who recognizes the abdandonment, that’s saying something. They should definitely do more to rebuild their relationship, or else do more to highlight the deficiencies in how he handled the situation. Especially if he’s going to keep popping up in all these crossovers and whatnot. 

I would love to see Kara’s sacrifice and hardship acknowledged. In the same way they sat down and talked about sacrificing her relationship with Mon-el in S2, they should sit down and talk about how Clark is essentially more human than kryptonian, while Kara is more kryptonian than human (or at least equal parts), and how it affects how they behave and make decisions.

It’s one of the reasons I was a little surprised that Kara was so quick to jump on the “no kryptonite ever” bandwagon. I mean, besides the fact that Alex had kryptonite armor in S1, I kind of expected for it to be explicated that Clark is offended by the idea of kryptonite because he sees himself as human-with-powers, whereas Kara is more okay with it because she’s not human, and would be significantly more difficult to contain or repel if she ever lost control.

[path-of-my-childhood]

Taylor Swift: ‘I was literally about to break’

By: Laura Snapes for The Guardian Date: August 24th 2019

Taylor Swift’s Nashville apartment is an Etsy fever dream, a 365-days-a-year Christmas shop, pure teenage girl id. You enter through a vestibule clad in blue velvet and covered in gilt frames bursting with fake flowers. The ceiling is painted like the night sky. Above a koi pond in the living area, a narrow staircase spirals six feet up towards a giant, pillow-lagged birdcage that probably has the best view in the city. Later, Swift will tell me she needs metaphors “to understand anything that happens to me”, and the birdcage defies you not to interpret it as a pointed comment on the contradictions of stardom.

Swift, wearing pale jeans and dip-dyed shirt, her sandy hair tied in a blue scrunchie, leads the way up the staircase to show me the view. The decor hasn’t changed since she bought this place in 2009, when she was 19. “All of these high rises are new since then,” she says, gesturing at the squat glass structures and cranes. Meanwhile her oven is still covered in stickers, more teenage diary than adult appliance.

Now 29, she has spent much of the past three years living quietly in London with her boyfriend, actor Joe Alwyn, making the penthouse a kind of time capsule, a monument to youthful naivety given an unlimited budget – the years when she sang about Romeo and Juliet and wore ballgowns to awards shows; before she moved to New York and honed her slick, self-mythologising pop.

It is mid-August. This is Swift’s first UK interview in more than three years, and she seems nervous: neither presidential nor goofy (her usual defaults), but quick with a tongue-out “ugh” of regret or frustration as she picks at her glittery purple nails. We climb down from the birdcage to sit by the pond, and when the conversation turns to 2016, the year the wheels came off for her, Swift stiffens as if driving over a mile of speed bumps. After a series of bruising public spats (with Katy Perry, Nicki Minaj) in 2015, there was a high-profile standoff with Kanye West. The news that she was in a relationship with actor Tom Hiddleston, which leaked soon after, was widely dismissed as a diversionary tactic. Meanwhile, Swift went to court to prosecute a sexual assault claim, and faced a furious backlash when she failed to endorse a candidate in the 2016 presidential election, allowing the alt-right to adopt her as their “Aryan princess”.

Her critics assumed she cared only about the bottom line. The reality, Swift says, is that she was totally broken. “Every domino fell,” she says bitterly. “It became really terrifying for anyone to even know where I was. And I felt completely incapable of doing or saying anything publicly, at all. Even about my music. I always said I wouldn’t talk about what was happening personally, because that was a personal time.” She won’t get into specifics. “I just need some things that are mine,” she despairs. “Just some things.”

A year later, in 2017, Swift released her album Reputation, half high-camp heel turn, drawing on hip-hop and vaudeville (the brilliantly hammy Look What You Made Me Do), half stunned appreciation that her nascent relationship with Alwyn had weathered the storm (the soft, sensual pop of songs Delicate and Dress).

Her new album, Lover, her seventh, was released yesterday. It’s much lighter than Reputation: Swift likens writing it to feeling like “I could take a full deep breath again”. Much of it is about Alwyn: the Galway Girl-ish track London Boy lists their favourite city haunts and her newfound appreciation of watching rugby in the pub with his uni mates; on the ruminative Afterglow, she asks him to forgive her anxious tendency to assume the worst.

While she has always written about relationships, they were either teenage fantasy or a postmortem on a high-profile breakup, with exes such as Jake Gyllenhaal and Harry Styles. But she and Alwyn have seldom been pictured together, and their relationship is the only other thing she won’t talk about. “I’ve learned that if I do, people think it’s up for discussion, and our relationship isn’t up for discussion,” she says, laughing after I attempt a stealthy angle. “If you and I were having a glass of wine right now, we’d be talking about it – but it’s just that it goes out into the world. That’s where the boundary is, and that’s where my life has become manageable. I really want to keep it feeling manageable.”

Instead, she has swapped personal disclosure for activism. Last August, Swift broke her political silence to endorse Democratic Tennessee candidate Phil Bredesen in the November 2018 senate race. Vote.org reported an unprecedented spike in voting registration after Swift’s Instagram post, while Donald Trump responded that he liked her music “about 25% less now”.

Meanwhile, her recent single You Need To Calm Down admonished homophobes and namechecked US LGBTQ rights organisation Glaad (which then saw increased donations). Swift filled her video with cameos from queer stars such as Ellen DeGeneres and Queen singer Adam Lambert, and capped it with a call to sign her petition in support of the Equality Act, which if passed would prohibit gender- and sexuality-based discrimination in the US. A video of Polish LGBTQ fans miming the track in defiance of their government’s homophobic agenda went viral. But Swift was accused of “queerbaiting” and bandwagon-jumping. You can see how she might find it hard to work out what, exactly, people want from her.

***

It was girlhood that made Swift a multimillionaire. When country music’s gatekeepers swore that housewives were the only women interested in the genre, she proved them wrong. Her self-titled debut marked the longest stay on the Billboard 200 by any album released in the decade. A potentially cloying image – corkscrew curls, lyrics thick on “daddy” and down-home values – were undercut by the fact she was evidently, endearingly, a bit of a freak, an unusual combination of intensity and artlessness. Also, she was really, really good at what she did, and not just for a teenager: her entirely self-written third album, 2010’s Speak Now, is unmatched in its devastatingly withering dismissals of awful men.

As a teenager, Swift was obsessed with VH1’s Behind The Music, the series devoted to the rise and fall of great musicians. She would forensically rewatch episodes, trying to pinpoint the moment a career went wrong. I ask her to imagine she’s watching the episode about herself and do the same thing: where was her misstep? “Oh my God,” she says, drawing a deep breath and letting her lips vibrate as she exhales. “I mean, that’s so depressing!” She thinks back and tries to deflect. “What I remember is that [the show] was always like, ‘Then we started fighting in the tour bus and then the drummer quit and the guitarist was like, “You’re not paying me enough.”’’’

But that’s not what she used to say. In interviews into her early 20s, Swift often observed that an artist fails when they lose their self-awareness, as if repeating the fact would work like an insurance against succumbing to the same fate. But did she make that mistake herself? She squeezes her nose and blows to clear a ringing in her ears before answering. “I definitely think that sometimes you don’t realise how you’re being perceived,” she says. “Pop music can feel like it’s The Hunger Games, and like we’re gladiators. And you can really lose focus of the fact that that’s how it feels because that’s how a lot of stan [fan] Twitter and tabloids and blogs make it seem – the overanalysing of everything makes it feel really intense.”

She describes the way she burned bridges in 2016 as a kind of obliviousness. “I didn’t realise it was like a classic overthrow of someone in power – where you didn’t realise the whispers behind your back, you didn’t realise the chain reaction of events that was going to make everything fall apart at the exact, perfect time for it to fall apart.”

Here’s that chain reaction in full. With her 2014 album 1989 (the year she was born), Swift transcended country stardom, becoming as ubiquitous as Beyoncé. For the first time she vocally embraced feminism, something she had rejected in her teens; but, after a while, it seemed to amount to not much more than a lot of pictures of her hanging out with her “squad”, a bevy of supermodels, musicians and Lena Dunham. The squad very much did not include her former friend Katy Perry, whom Swift targeted in her song Bad Blood, as part of what seemed like a painfully overblown dispute about some backing dancers. Then, when Nicki Minaj tweeted that MTV’s 2015 Video Music awards had rewarded white women at the expense of women of colour, multiple-nominee Swift took it personally, responding: “Maybe one of the men took your slot.” For someone prone to talking about the haters, she quickly became her own worst enemy.

Her old adversary Kanye West resurfaced in February 2016. In 2009, West had invaded Swift’s stage at the MTV VMAs to protest against her victory over Beyoncé in the female video of the year category. It remains the peak of interest in Swift on Google Trends, and the conflict between them has become such a cornerstone of celebrity journalism that it’s hard to remember it lay dormant for nearly seven years – until West released his song Famous. “I feel like me and Taylor might still have sex,” he rapped. “Why? I made that bitch famous.” The video depicted a Swift mannequin naked in bed with men including Trump.

Swift loudly condemned both; although she had discussed the track with West, she said she had never agreed to the “bitch” lyric or the video. West’s wife, Kim Kardashian, released a heavily edited clip that showed Swift at least agreeing to the “sex” line on the phone with West, if not the “bitch” part. Swift pleaded the technicality, but it made no difference: when Kardashian went on Twitter to describe her as a snake, the comparison stuck and the singer found herself very publicly “cancelled” – the incident taken as “proof” of Swift’s insincerity. So she went away.

Swift says she stopped trying to explain herself, even though she “definitely” could have. As she worked on Reputation, she was also writing “a think-piece a day that I knew I would never publish: the stuff I would say, and the different facets of the situation that nobody knew”. If she could exonerate herself, why didn’t she? She leans forward. “Here’s why,” she says conspiratorially. “Because when people are in a hate frenzy and they find something to mutually hate together, it bonds them. And anything you say is in an echo chamber of mockery.”

She compares that year to being hit by a tidal wave. “You can either stand there and let the wave crash into you, and you can try as hard as you can to fight something that’s more powerful and bigger than you,” she says. “Or you can dive under the water, hold your breath, wait for it to pass and while you’re down there, try to learn something. Why was I in that part of the ocean? There were clearly signs that said: Rip tide! Undertow! Don’t swim! There are no lifeguards!” She’s on a roll. “Why was I there? Why was I trusting people I trusted? Why was I letting people into my life the way I was letting them in? What was I doing that caused this?”

After the incident with Minaj, her critics started pointing out a narrative of “white victimhood” in Swift’s career. Speaking slowly and carefully, she says she came to understand “a lot about how my privilege allowed me to not have to learn about white privilege. I didn’t know about it as a kid, and that is privilege itself, you know? And that’s something that I’m still trying to educate myself on every day. How can I see where people are coming from, and understand the pain that comes with the history of our world?”

She also accepts some responsibility for her overexposure, and for some of the tabloid drama. If she didn’t wish a friend happy birthday on Instagram, there would be reports about severed friendships, even if they had celebrated together. “Because we didn’t post about it, it didn’t happen – and I realised I had done that,” she says. “I created an expectation that everything in my life that happened, people would see.”

But she also says she couldn’t win. “I’m kinda used to being gaslit by now,” she drawls wearily. “And I think it happens to women so often that, as we get older and see how the world works, we’re able to see through what is gaslighting. So I’m able to look at 1989 and go – KITTIES!” She breaks off as an assistant walks in with Swift’s three beloved cats, stars of her Instagram feed, back from the vet before they fly to England this week. Benjamin, Olivia and Meredith haughtily circle our feet (they are scared of the koi) as Swift resumes her train of thought, back to the release of 1989 and the subsequent fallout. “Oh my God, they were mad at me for smiling a lot and quote-unquote acting fake. And then they were mad at me that I was upset and bitter and kicking back.” The rules kept changing.

***

Swift’s new album comes with printed excerpts from her diaries. On 29 August 2016, she wrote in her girlish, bubble writing: “This summer is the apocalypse.” As the incident with West and Kardashian unfolded, she was preparing for her court case against radio DJ David Mueller, who was fired in 2013 after Swift reported him for putting his hand up her dress at a meet-and–greet event. He sued her for defamation; she countersued for sexual assault.

“Having dealt with a few of them, narcissists basically subscribe to a belief system that they should be able to do and say whatever the hell they want, whenever the hell they want to,” Swift says now, talking at full pelt. “And if we – as anyone else in the world, but specifically women – react to that, well, we’re not allowed to. We’re not allowed to have a reaction to their actions.”

In summer 2016 she was in legal depositions, practising her testimony. “You’re supposed to be really polite to everyone,” she says. But by the time she got to court in August 2017, “something snapped, I think”. She laughs. Her testimony was sharp and uncompromising. She refused to allow Mueller’s lawyers to blame her or her security guards; when asked if she could see the incident, Swift said no, because “my ass is in the back of my body”. It was a brilliant, rude defence.

“You’re supposed to behave yourself in court and say ‘rear end’,” she says with mock politesse. “The other lawyer was saying, ‘When did he touch your backside?’ And I was like, ‘ASS! Call it what it is!’” She claps between each word. But despite the acclaim for her testimony and eventual victory (she asked for one symbolic dollar), she still felt belittled. It was two months prior to the beginning of the #MeToo movement. “Even this case was literally twisted so hard that people were calling it the ‘butt-grab case’. They were saying I sued him because there’s this narrative that I want to sue everyone. That was one of the reasons why the summer was the apocalypse.”

She never wanted the assault to be made public. Have there been other instances she has dealt with privately? “Actually, no,” she says soberly. “I’m really lucky that it hadn’t happened to me before. But that was one of the reasons it was so traumatising. I just didn’t know that could happen. It was really brazen, in front of seven people.” She has since had security cameras installed at every meet-and-greet she does, deliberately pointed at her lower half. “If something happens again, we can prove it with video footage from every angle,” she says.

The allegations about Harvey Weinstein came out soon after she won her case. The film producer had asked her to write a song for the romantic comedy One Chance, which earned her second Golden Globe nomination. Weinstein also got her a supporting role in the 2014 sci-fi movie The Giver, and attended the launch party for 1989. But she says they were never alone together.

“He’d call my management and be like, ‘Does she have a song for this film?’ And I’d be like, ‘Here it is,’” she says dispassionately. “And then I’d be at the Golden Globes. I absolutely never hung out. And I would get a vibe – I would never vouch for him. I believe women who come forward, I believe victims who come forward, I believe men who come forward.” Swift inhales, flustered. She says Weinstein never propositioned her. “If you listen to the stories, he picked people who were vulnerable, in his opinion. It seemed like it was a power thing. So, to me, that doesn’t say anything – that I wasn’t in that situation.”

Meanwhile, Donald Trump was more than nine months into his presidency, and still Swift had not taken a position. But the idea that a pop star could ever have impeded his path to the White House seemed increasingly naive. In hindsight, the demand that Swift speak up looks less about politics and more about her identity (white, rich, powerful) and a moralistic need for her to redeem herself – as if nobody else had ever acted on a vindictive instinct, or blundered publicly.

But she resisted what might have been an easy return to public favour. Although Reputation contained softer love songs, it was better known for its brittle, vengeful side (see This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things). She describes that side of the album now as a “bit of a persona”, and its hip-hop-influenced production as “a complete defence mechanism”. Personally, I thought she had never been more relatable, trashing the contract of pious relatability that traps young women in the public eye.

***

It was the assault trial, and watching the rights of LGBTQ friends be eroded, that finally politicised her, Swift says. “The things that happen to you in your life are what develop your political opinions. I was living in this Obama eight-year paradise of, you go, you cast your vote, the person you vote for wins, everyone’s happy!” she says. “This whole thing, the last three, four years, it completely blindsided a lot of us, me included.”

She recently said she was “dismayed” when a friend pointed out that her position on gay rights wasn’t obvious (what if she had a gay son, he asked), hence this summer’s course correction with the single You Need To Calm Down (“You’re comin’ at my friends like a missile/Why are you mad?/When you could be GLAAD?”). Didn’t she feel equally dismayed that her politics weren’t clear? “I did,” she insists, “and I hate to admit this, but I felt that I wasn’t educated enough on it. Because I hadn’t actively tried to learn about politics in a way that I felt was necessary for me, making statements that go out to hundreds of millions of people.”

She explains her inner conflict. “I come from country music. The number one thing they absolutely drill into you as a country artist, and you can ask any other country artist this, is ‘Don’t be like the Dixie Chicks!’” In 2003, the Texan country trio denounced the Iraq war, saying they were “ashamed” to share a home state with George W Bush. There was a boycott, and an event where a bulldozer crushed their CDs. “I watched country music snuff that candle out. The most amazing group we had, just because they talked about politics. And they were getting death threats. They were made such an example that basically every country artist that came after that, every label tells you, ‘Just do not get involved, no matter what.’

“And then, you know, if there was a time for me to get involved…” Swift pauses. “The worst part of the timing of what happened in 2016 was I felt completely voiceless. I just felt like, oh God, who would want me? Honestly.” She would otherwise have endorsed Hillary Clinton? “Of course,” she says sincerely. “I just felt completely, ugh, just useless. And maybe even like a hindrance.”

I suggest that, thinking selfishly, her coming out for Clinton might have made people like her. “I wasn’t thinking like that,” she stresses. “I was just trying to protect my mental health – not read the news very much, go cast my vote, tell people to vote. I just knew what I could handle and I knew what I couldn’t. I was literally about to break. For a while.” Did she seek therapy? “That stuff I just really wanna keep personal, if that’s OK,” she says.

She resists blaming anyone else for her political silence. Her emergence as a Democrat came after she left Big Machine, the label she signed to at 15. (They are now at loggerheads after label head Scott Borchetta sold the company, and the rights to Swift’s first six albums, to Kanye West’s manager, Scooter Braun.) Had Borchetta ever advised her against speaking out? She exhales. “It was just me and my life, and also doing a lot of self-reflection about how I did feel really remorseful for not saying anything. I wanted to try and help in any way that I could, the next time I got a chance. I didn’t help, I didn’t feel capable of it – and as soon as I can, I’m going to.”

Swift was once known for throwing extravagant 4 July parties at her Rhode Island mansion. The Instagram posts from these star-studded events – at which guests wore matching stars-and-stripes bikinis and onesies – probably supported a significant chunk of the celebrity news industry GDP. But in 2017, they stopped. “The horror!” wrote Cosmopolitan, citing “reasons that remain a mystery” for their disappearance. It wasn’t “squad” strife or the unavailability of matching cozzies that brought the parties to an end, but Swift’s disillusionment with her country, she says.

There is a smart song about this on the new album – the track that should have been the first single, instead of the cartoonish ME!. Miss Americana And The Heartbreak Prince is a forlorn, gothic ballad in the vein of Lana Del Rey that uses high-school imagery to dismantle American nationalism: “The whole school is rolling fake dice/You play stupid games/You win stupid prizes,” she sings with disdain. “Boys will be boys then/Where are the wise men?”

As an ambitious 11-year-old, she worked out that singing the national anthem at sports games was the quickest way to get in front of a large audience. When did she start feeling conflicted about what America stands for? She gives another emphatic ugh. “It was the fact that all the dirtiest tricks in the book were used and it worked,” she says. “The thing I can’t get over right now is gaslighting the American public into being like” – she adopts a sanctimonious tone – “‘If you hate the president, you hate America.’ We’re a democracy – at least, we’re supposed to be – where you’re allowed to disagree, dissent, debate.” She doesn’t use Trump’s name. “I really think that he thinks this is an autocracy.”

As we speak, Tennessee lawmakers are trying to impose a near-total ban on abortion. Swift has staunchly defended her “Tennessee values” in recent months. What’s her position? “I mean, obviously, I’m pro-choice, and I just can’t believe this is happening,” she says. She looks close to tears. “I can’t believe we’re here. It’s really shocking and awful. And I just wanna do everything I can for 2020. I wanna figure out exactly how I can help, what are the most effective ways to help. ’Cause this is just…” She sighs again. “This is not it.”

***

It is easy to forget that the point of all this is that a teenage Taylor Swiftwanted to write love songs. Nemeses and negativity are now so entrenched in her public persona that it’s hard to know how she can get back to that, though she seems to want to. At the end of Daylight, the new album’s dreamy final song, there’s a spoken-word section: “I want to be defined by the things that I love,” she says as the music fades. “Not the things that I hate, not the things I’m afraid of, the things that haunt me in the middle of the night.” As well as the songs written for Alwyn, there is one for her mother, who recently experienced a cancer relapse: “You make the best of a bad deal/I just pretend it isn’t real,” Swift sings, backed by the Dixie Chicks.

How does writing about her personal life work if she’s setting clearer boundaries? “It actually made me feel more free,” she says. “I’ve always had this habit of never really going into detail about exactly what situation inspired what thing, but even more so now.” This is only half true: in the past, Swift wasn’t shy of a level of detail that invited fans to figure out specific truths about her relationships. And when I tell her that Lover feels a more emotionally guarded album, she bristles. “I know the difference between making art and living your life like a reality star,” she says. “And then even if it’s hard for other people to grasp, my definition is really clear.”

Even so, Swift begins Lover by addressing an adversary, opening with a song called I Forgot That You Existed (“it isn’t love, it isn’t hate, it’s just indifference”), presumably aimed at Kanye West, a track that slightly defeats its premise by existing. But it sweeps aside old dramas to confront Swift’s real nemesis, herself. “I never grew up/It’s getting so old,” she laments on The Archer.

She has had to learn not to pre-empt disaster, nor to run from it. Her life has been defined by relationships, friendships and business relationships that started and ended very publicly (though she and Perry are friends again). At the same time, the rules around celebrity engagement have evolved beyond recognition in her 15 years of fame. Rather than trying to adapt to them, she’s now asking herself: “How do you learn to maintain? How do you learn not to have these phantom disasters in your head that you play out, and how do you stop yourself from sabotage – because the panic mechanism in your brain is telling you that something must go wrong.” For her, this is what growing up is. “You can’t just make cut-and-dry decisions in life. A lot of things are a negotiation and a grey area and a dance of how to figure it out.”

And so this time, Swift is sticking around. In December she will turn 30, marking the point after which more than half her life will have been lived in public. She’ll start her new decade with a stronger self-preservationist streak, and a looser grip (as well as a cameo in Cats). “You can’t micromanage life, it turns out,” she says, drily.

When Swift finally answered my question about the moment she would choose in the VH1 Behind The Music episode about herself, the one where her career turned, she said she hoped it wouldn’t focus on her “apocalypse” summer of 2016. “Maybe this is wishful thinking,” she said, “but I’d like to think it would be in a couple of years.” It’s funny to hear her hope that the worst is still to come while sitting in her fairytale living room, the cats pacing: a pragmatist at odds with her romantic monument to teenage dreams. But it sounds something like perspective.

[esglatestmarketnews]

The Future of ESG in the Online Grocery Industry

Grocery CEOs, consumers and grocers envisage online shopping as the next big thing, spurred by technological advancements and greater convenience. The COVID-19 onslaught was partly attributed to online grocery flooding the market. While leading players and startups jumped on the bandwagon, ESG watchdogs were wary of the sustainable impact the industry would have on the planet. Stakeholders are expected to harness gender equality, fair wages, waste reduction, responsible sourcing of farm produce and sound corporate governance. 

The ease of browsing, getting items ticked off and quick delivery have been a revelation—a delivery service delivering to multiple homes has negated the need to drive to the store. More than 17 million metric tons of CO2 pollution are attributed to weekly household trips to the grocery store, a report cited by the U.S. EPA claimed. Incumbent players have furthered investments in electric vehicles (EVs) to offset greenhouse gas emissions. In April 2022, India-based Swiggy, a food delivery company, joined forces with EVIFY to enable grocery and food delivery through EVs in Surat, Gujarat. 

Industry leaders are likely to emphasize upstream transportation (farm-to-retail) and foster last-mile transportation—pushing for deliveries and offsetting personal trips. Centralized grocery delivery services and fulfillment centers have brought a paradigm shift in minimizing GHG emissions and food loss. State-of-the-art technologies, including predictive analytics, can provide the silver bullet to prevent pilferage and streamline sourcing. Besides, boosting access to affordable and high-quality fresh food, along with the focus on diversity, integrity and transparency, will remain instrumental for a circular economy.  Learn more about the practices & strategies being implemented by industry participants from the Online Grocery Industry ESG Thematic Report, 2023, published by Astra ESG Solutions Kroger and BigBasket Invest in Climate Strategy for a Sustainable Future The online retail boom and an emphasis on speed and user experience—instant delivery—have disrupted e-commerce business models. Brands with sustainability strategies appeared resilient during the COVID-19 outbreak, banking on online shopping to conserve raw materials and minimize GHG emissions. Kroger is poised to establish a new Scope 3 goal for supply chain emissions reduction in line with its Science Based Targets initiative (SBTi) commitment. The American retail giant has set 2030 sustainable packaging goals, such as using 100% recyclable, reusable and/or compostable packaging.

Amidst emerging climate risks and opportunities, Kroger inferred using infrared refrigerant leak-detection technology in 2,000 stores. Meanwhile, in 2021, Bigbasket, a TATA Enterprise-owned online grocery retailer, teamed up with New Leaf Dynamic to install a biomass-powered chiller that can save 186 tons of CO2 annually. The Indian giant cited in its Green Report 2022 that it produced 5,457,000 kWh of solar power (reducing 1,670 tons of GHG emissions) in 2022 and 5,458 electric delivery vehicles helped minimize 7012 tons of CO2 emissions during the period. 

Amazon Fresh Navigates Changing Social Landscape  Amidst rampant layoffs and the prevalence of workplace injuries, grocery warehouses and fulfillment centers have prioritized the social pillar. In January 2023, Amazon announced over 18,000 job cuts, denting workers across industry verticals, including grocery stores. People employed as supply chain managers, program managers, software engineers and store designers bore the brunt in online grocery delivery and fresh stores businesses. That said, the American behemoth inferred in May 2023 that it had poured CDN 25 billion since 2010 in its Canadian operations, including job creation and establishment of data centers and fulfillment centers. In September 2021, the U.S. giant committed USD 1.2 billion to offer 300,000 employees education and skills training programs till 2025. 

Incumbent players have upped investments to make the workplace safer and foster a healthy environment. Amazon has a team of health coordinators, physiotherapists and advisors. The occupational doctors perform medical checks and report trends in major risk areas. 

The U.S. e-commerce company has augmented diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) efforts to underscore its sustainability quotient. In 2021, it committed to a 30% rise year over year in hiring U.S. black employees in level 4 through level 7 from the preceding year’s hiring. The multinational company warrants 100% of employees to take inclusion training. 

Is your business one of participants to the Online Grocery Industry? Contact us for focused consultation around ESG Investing, and help you build sustainable business practices Governance Key for Relentless Sustainable Goals of Rakuten and Walmart Sound corporate behavior is second to none for an agile business process and an inclusive global system that complements ethical business practices. Rakuten creates a list of ESG themes with the assistance of external experts and refers to the UN Sustainable Development Goals and Sustainability Accounting Standards Board (SASB) Materiality Map.

The Japanese company has appointed Chief Compliance Officer (CCO) to undergird compliance management. It has banked on a risk-based approach to define high-risk issues and implement measures, such as prevention of money laundering and terrorist financing; prohibition of bribery and corruption; and adherence to competition, antitrust and other related laws. 

Rakuten has propelled board diversity—outside directors account for 58.3% of the BoD, while 25% are foreign directors. Meanwhile, Walmart expects Board members to disclose their race/ethnicity and gender annually. Its board had 27% women and 18% directors who are racially/ethnically diverse (as of April 2023). 

Millennials and Gen Z want the e-commerce sector to foster social contributions, operate in a responsible supply chain and bolster transparency. ESG reporting could be pronounced, prompting online incumbents to further their investments in sustainability. Grand View Research anticipates the global online grocery market size to depict upward growth through 2030. Investments in the circular economy can create momentum and be a differentiating factor in an ever-growing competition in the online grocery business. 

About Astra – ESG Solutions by Grand View Research Astra is the Environmental, Social, and Governance (ESG) arm of Grand View Research Inc. – a global market research publishing & management consulting firm.

Astra offers comprehensive ESG thematic assessment & scores across diverse impact & socially responsible investment topics, including both public and private companies along with intuitive dashboards. Our ESG solutions are powered by robust fundamental & alternative information. Astra specializes in consulting services that equip corporates and the investment community with the in-depth ESG research and actionable insight they need to support their bottom lines and their values. We have supported our clients across diverse ESG consulting projects & advisory services, including climate strategies & assessment, ESG benchmarking, stakeholder engagement programs, active ownership, developing ESG investment strategies, ESG data services, build corporate sustainability reports. Astra team includes a pool of industry experts and ESG enthusiasts who possess extensive end-end ESG research and consulting experience at a global level.

For more ESG Thematic reports, please visit Astra ESG Solutions, powered by Grand View Research

[9or10allgood]

I love Tumblr.  Far more than Facebook, which has become a seething morass of political partisanship, and while I’m all about seething partisanship when it’s discussed by people willing to engage their intellects, I’m less so when “debate” means posting memes and gifs which are, let’s be honest, the electronic equivalent of saying “nanny nanny boo boo”.

Anyway… Tumblr.  You can, to some degree, control your content.  If you are, like I am, mildly (*snort*) obsessed with a certain tall, lanky, Scottish actor, you can find like-minded individuals and follow them and bask in his glory to your heart’s content.  Likewise, you can follow fandoms based on television shows and movies and plays and music… and you get my point.  You’re all here so, of course, you do.

And, if you are interested in things like politics or social issues or the environment or science or all of the above (and more), that content is also readily available on Tumblr.

Generally speaking, I find the folks on Tumblr to be considerably more relaxed and open and accepting than on Facebook.  I attribute that, for the most part, to the members being mostly younger.  I’m a great believer in young people.  The future belongs to them and I am, present circumstances notwithstanding, mostly optimistic about the future. 

I’m a Boomer.  I was born eleven years after the end of WWII. (Good Lord, I feel old!)  There were no twenty-four-hour television or radio stations, and the internet wasn’t even conceived of, even by the most forward thinkers. Doctors still made housecalls as a matter of course.  Milk was still delivered to your door every morning.   The polio vaccine was still being tested.  Putting a man on the moon was a science fiction fantasy.  

As a generation, we “Boomers” were guilty of a lot of things, beginning with not quickly enough shedding some of the baggage from the generation before us. We were still largely segregated and we are paying the price still and we will until - I don’t know how long and that disturbs me more than I can say.  We were too quick to distrust the other - just ask the immigrants that came to these shores during and after the War.  There was a dear older lady in my church when I was in high school.  A kinder, more charitable, more joyful woman you could never hope to meet.  She was a German war bride - met an American soldier and they fell in love and married and he brought her home to his small, south Georgia hometown.  Their first decade was tough - folks were slow to forget and she was sometimes ostracized.  Even when I knew her, people would sometimes refer to her (in lowered tones) as Leroy’s German frau.  

We were abysmal when it came to the environment.  I mean, look at the cars we drove in the sixties and seventies before the oil crisis forced a turn toward economy cars.  Gasoline was $.37 a gallon - and that was hi-test!  What did it matter that my mother’s 1971 Mercury Grand Marquis land yacht only got 11 miles to the gallon?  Gender equality?  Seriously?  Gender Identity?!?!?  How you came out of the womb is what you were.  Period.  And if your family had that special uncle or the aunt with a Very Close Friend, well, it just wasn’t talked about, was it…

On the other hand, there were things we did do.   That social conscience that drives our society today?  You can thank those who loudly and visibly protested the Vietnam War for a lot of it.  Sure, there were anti-war movements always, but the Vietnam War lit a fire that, with the availability of news cameras and microphones and news cycles, burned hot and bright until the last helicopter departed the US Embassy in Saigon on April 30, 1975.  And when the war was over, there were plenty of other things to get riled up about:  the environment, women’s rights, the right to choose, civil rights, gay rights.  Anger over things that are wrong today didn’t just start in the 2000s.  A lot of us - and I mean a lot!  - have been pissed off for a while.

Putting a man on the moon belongs to the generation before the Boomers, obviously, but the drive to continue space exploration - the space shuttle, the probes that are still sailing toward places beyond our solar system, the International Space Station, the Hubble telescope - belong to us.  Medical advances?  Advances in diabetic screening and treatment, the MRI, treatment of HIV/AIDS… Cancer research was largely theoretical until the ‘70s.  The idea of DNA re-sequencing as a therapeutic treatment?  Late ‘70’s.

And as for culture?  My generation embraced the idea of embracing the accoutrements of other cultures.  Clothing, jewelry, hairstyles, music, food… we were all about it.  I see people commenting on “cultural appropriation” as if it’s a bad thing.  We - my generation - considered it to be a tangible form of acceptance.  

(As an aside, I have a dear friend who is battling uterine cancer.  She has lost all of her hair due to chemotherapy.  On one of her “good days”, she and her family took in an Indian (the country) festival and, while she was there, saw an artist creating henna tattoos.  On impulse, she asked the woman to create one for her scalp.  It was a masterpiece, absolutely glorious, and it gave my friend so much of her joy back.  For the first time, she was proud to show herself without a wig or scarf.  I think if I’d heard anyone say anything about “cultural appropriation”, I would have punched them in the mouth.)

My point to this ramble is this.  Lately, I’ve been seeing anti-Boomer things on Tumblr.  Boomers are rude.  Boomers are backward.  Boomers are outdated.  And while I get that it’s just a thing for generations to complain about each other, it’s the absolutism that I see that bothers me.  When I was young and dealing with my parents’ generation, I didn’t consign the whole kit and kaboodle to the Dark Ages.  And, from my viewpoint as an older person, I don’t heave a great sigh and clutch my pearls over the entirety of the Gen X'ers, the Millennials (raised one!), or the Gen Z'ers.  I may get annoyed with one or two individuals and have a sudden urge to shake my cane and yell “get off my lawn, whippersnapper!” but I manage to contain myself.  (There was the young man in the electronics department at WalMart who, in his most condescending manner, asked me if I knew what a USB port was.   I wanted to tell him that I’d been working with computers since before his father first bought his mother a malt at the chocolate shoppe.  Instead, I just gave him The Look™ and he mumbled an apology.)

Absolutism about anything is corrosive.  I mean, think about it.  It lies at the heart of so many of the evils that are tearing at us now.  It feeds the desire to hate all of the “other” because of a crime perpetrated by one or a few.  Wars result from this kind of thinking.  Down through history, you see it.  And it’s so much more easily spread now with social media.  Again, I would abandon FB altogether - except that it’s how I keep up with the folks back home - because it’s become a political, partisan, largely unintelligent cesspool.  All because those on the Left believe that those on the Right are the Minions of Satan and those on the Right think that those on the Left are Bloodsucking Snowflakes.  And, of course, they don’t all think that, but it’s so easy to click a “Like” or a “Share” without really thinking about the message they are sending, and before you know it things are out of control and we’ve put a dictator wannabe in the bloody Oval Office!

(Sorry.  I’m still upset.)

There are those who ask why boomers are offended.  I mean, “ok boomer” is just a joke, right?  Well, yeah, but that same reasoning has been applied to how many derogatory labels.   (I read one comment that “Boomer” isn’t an ageist slur. Except it kinda is, y'know?)  And, again, it spreads and it gets blown out of proportion and there are those who are just ready to jump on a bandwagon - any bandwagon! - and the next thing you know, it’s trending on Twitter and we’ve got one more thing to get mad about that shouldn’t be anything at all because there are so many other things that we really should be mad about and trying to do something about…

Do you get my point?  

If someone of any generation gets on your last good nerve, by all means, express yourself.  (Short of violence, obviously.)  But ease up on projecting the “they’re all bad" mentality.  It isn’t true.  It doesn’t make anything easier.  And we’re all better than that.

Aren’t we?