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mostlysignssomeportents · 7 months ago

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How finfluencers destroyed the housing and lives of thousands of people

For the rest of May, my bestselling solarpunk utopian novel THE LOST CAUSE (2023) is available as a $2.99, DRM-free ebook!

The crash of 2008 imparted many lessons to those of us who were only dimly aware of finance, especially the problems of complexity as a way of disguising fraud and recklessness. That was really the first lesson of 2008: "financial engineering" is mostly a way of obscuring crime behind a screen of technical jargon.

This is a vital principle to keep in mind, because obscenely well-resourced "financial engineers" are on a tireless, perennial search for opportunities to disguise fraud as innovation. As Riley Quinn says, "Any time you hear 'fintech,' substitute 'unlicensed bank'":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/01/usury/#tech-exceptionalism

But there's another important lesson to learn from the 2008 disaster, a lesson that's as old as the South Seas Bubble: "leverage" (that is, debt) is a force multiplier for fraud. Easy credit for financial speculation turns local scams into regional crime waves; it turns regional crime into national crises; it turns national crises into destabilizing global meltdowns.

When financial speculators have easy access to credit, they "lever up" their wagers. A speculator buys your house and uses it for collateral for a loan to buy another house, then they make a bet using that house as collateral and buy a third house, and so on. This is an obviously terrible practice and lenders who extend credit on this basis end up riddling the real economy with rot – a single default in the chain can ripple up and down it and take down a whole neighborhood, town or city. Any time you see this behavior in debt markets, you should batten your hatches for the coming collapse. Unsurprisingly, this is very common in crypto speculation, where it's obscured behind the bland, unpronounceable euphemism of "re-hypothecation":

https://www.coindesk.com/consensus-magazine/2023/05/10/rehypothecation-may-be-common-in-traditional-finance-but-it-will-never-work-with-bitcoin/

Loose credit markets often originate with central banks. The dogma that holds that the only role the government has to play in tuning the economy is in setting interest rates at the Fed means the answer to a cooling economy is cranking down the prime rate, meaning that everyone earns less money on their savings and are therefore incentivized to go and risk their retirement playing at Wall Street's casino.

The "zero interest rate policy" shows what happens when this tactic is carried out for long enough. When the economy is built upon mountains of low-interest debt, when every business, every stick of physical plant, every car and every home is leveraged to the brim and cross-collateralized with one another, central bankers have to keep interest rates low. Raising them, even a little, could trigger waves of defaults and blow up the whole economy.

Holding interest rates at zero – or even flipping them to negative, so that your savings lose value every day you refuse to flush them into the finance casino – results in still more reckless betting, and that results in even more risk, which makes it even harder to put interest rates back up again.

This is a morally and economically complicated phenomenon. On the one hand, when the government provides risk-free bonds to investors (that is, when the Fed rate is over 0%), they're providing "universal basic income for people with money." If you have money, you can park it in T-Bills (Treasury bonds) and the US government will give you more money:

https://realprogressives.org/mmp-blog-34-responses/

On the other hand, while T-Bills exist and are foundational to the borrowing picture for speculators, ZIRP creates free debt for people with money – it allows for ever-greater, ever-deadlier forms of leverage, with ever-worsening consequences for turning off the tap. As 2008 forcibly reminded us, the vast mountains of complex derivatives and other forms of exotic debt only seems like an abstraction. In reality, these exotic financial instruments are directly tethered to real things in the real economy, and when the faery gold disappears, it takes down your home, your job, your community center, your schools, and your whole country's access to cancer medication:

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2012/jun/08/greek-drug-shortage-worsens

Being a billionaire automatically lowers your IQ by 30 points, as you are insulated from the consequences of your follies, lapses, prejudices and superstitions. As @[email protected] says, Elon Musk is what Howard Hughes would have turned into if he hadn't been a recluse:

https://mamot.fr/@[email protected]/112457199729198644

The same goes for financiers during periods of loose credit. Loose Fed money created an "everything bubble" that saw the prices of every asset explode, from housing to stocks, from wine to baseball cards. When every bet pays off, you win the game by betting on everything:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Everything_bubble

That meant that the ZIRPocene was an era in which ever-stupider people were given ever-larger sums of money to gamble with. This was the golden age of the "finfluencer" – a Tiktok dolt with a surefire way for you to get rich by making reckless bets that endanger the livelihoods, homes and wellbeing of your neighbors.

Finfluencers are dolts, but they're also dangerous. Writing for The American Prospect, the always-amazing Maureen Tkacik describes how a small clutch of passive-income-brainworm gurus created a financial weapon of mass destruction, buying swathes of apartment buildings and then destroying them, ruining the lives of their tenants, and their investors:

https://prospect.org/infrastructure/housing/2024-05-22-hell-underwater-landlord/

Tcacik's main characters are Matt Picheny, Brent Ritchie and Koteswar “Jay” Gajavelli, who ran a scheme to flip apartment buildings, primarily in Houston, America's fastest growing metro, which also boasts some of America's weakest protections for tenants. These finance bros worked through Gajavelli's company Applesway Investment Group, which levered up his investors' money with massive loans from Arbor Realty Trust, who also originated loans to many other speculators and flippers.

For investors, the scheme was a classic heads-I-win/tails-you-lose: Gajavelli paid himself a percentage of the price of every building he bought, a percentage of monthly rental income, and a percentage of the resale price. This is typical of the "syndicating" sector, which raised $111 billion on this basis:

https://www.wsj.com/articles/a-housing-bust-comes-for-thousands-of-small-time-investors-3934beb3

Gajavelli and co bought up whole swathes of Houston and other cities, apartment blocks both modest and luxurious, including buildings that had already been looted by previous speculators. As interest rates crept up and the payments for the adjustable-rate loans supporting these investments exploded, Gajavell's Applesway and its subsidiary LLCs started to stiff their suppliers. Garbage collection dwindled, then ceased. Water outages became common – first weekly, then daily. Community rooms and pools shuttered. Lawns grew to waist-high gardens of weeds, fouled with mounds of fossil dogshit. Crime ran rampant, including murders. Buildings filled with rats and bedbugs. Ceilings caved in. Toilets backed up. Hallways filled with raw sewage:

https://pluralistic.net/timberridge

Meanwhile, the value of these buildings was plummeting, and not just because of their terrible condition – the whole market was cooling off, in part thanks to those same interest-rate hikes. Because the loans were daisy-chained, problems with a single building threatened every building in the portfolio – and there were problems with a lot more than one building.

This ruination wasn't limited to Gajavelli's holdings. Arbor lent to multiple finfluencer grifters, providing the leverage for every Tiktok dolt to ruin a neighborhood of their choosing. Arbor's founder, the "flamboyant" Ivan Kaufman, is associated with a long list of bizarre pop-culture and financial freak incidents. These have somehow eclipsed his scandals, involving – you guessed it – buying up apartment buildings and turning them into dangerous slums. Two of his buildings in Hyattsville, MD accumulated 2,162 violations in less than three years.

Arbor graduated from owning slums to creating them, lending out money to grifters via a "crowdfunding" platform that rooked retail investors into the scam, taking advantage of Obama-era deregulation of "qualified investor" restrictions to sucker unsophisticated savers into handing over money that was funneled to dolts like Gajavelli. Arbor ran the loosest book in town, originating mortgages that wouldn't pass the (relatively lax) criteria of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac. This created an ever-enlarging pool of apartments run by dolts, without the benefit of federal insurance. As one short-seller's report on Arbor put it, they were the origin of an epidemic of "Slumlord Millionaires":

https://viceroyresearch.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/Arbor-Slumlord-Millionaires-Jan-8-2023.pdf

The private equity grift is hard to understand from the outside, because it appears that a bunch of sober-sided, responsible institutions lose out big when PE firms default on their loans. But the story of the Slumlord Millionaires shows how such a scam could be durable over such long timescales: remember that the "syndicating" sector pays itself giant amounts of money whether it wins or loses. The consider that they finance this with investor capital from "crowdfunding" platforms that rope in naive investors. The owners of these crowdfunding platforms are conduits for the money to make the loans to make the bets – but it's not their money. Quite the contrary: they get a fee on every loan they originate, and a share of the interest payments, but they're not on the hook for loans that default. Heads they win, tails we lose.

In other words, these crooks are intermediaries – they're platforms. When you're on the customer side of the platform, it's easy to think that your misery benefits the sellers on the platform's other side. For example, it's easy to believe that as your Facebook feed becomes enshittified with ads, that advertisers are the beneficiaries of this enshittification.

But the reason you're seeing so many ads in your feed is that Facebook is also ripping off advertisers: charging them more, spending less to police ad-fraud, being sloppier with ad-targeting. If you're not paying for the product, you're the product. But if you are paying for the product? You're still the product:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/04/how-to-truth/#adfraud

In the same way: the private equity slumlord who raises your rent, loads up on junk fees, and lets your building disintegrate into a crime-riddled, sewage-tainted, rat-infested literal pile of garbage is absolutely fucking you over. But they're also fucking over their investors. They didn't buy the building with their own money, so they're not on the hook when it's condemned or when there's a forced sale. They got a share of the initial sale price, they get a percentage of your rental payments, so any upside they miss out on from a successful sale is just a little extra they're not getting. If they squeeze you hard enough, they can probably make up the difference.

The fact that this criminal playbook has wormed its way into every corner of the housing market makes it especially urgent and visible. Housing – shelter – is a human right, and no person can thrive without a stable home. The conversion of housing, from human right to speculative asset, has been a catastrophe:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/06/the-rents-too-damned-high/

Of course, that's not the only "asset class" that has been enshittified by private equity looters. They love any kind of business that you must patronize. Capitalists hate capitalism, so they love a captive audience, which is why PE took over your local nursing home and murdered your gran:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/23/acceptable-losses/#disposable-olds

Homes are the last asset of the middle class, and the grifter class know it, so they're coming for your house. Willie Sutton robbed banks because "that's where the money is" and We Buy Ugly Houses defrauds your parents out of their family home because that's where their money is:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/11/ugly-houses-ugly-truth/#homevestor

The plague of housing speculation isn't a US-only phenomenon. We have allies in Spain who are fighting our Wall Street landlords:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/11/24/no-puedo-pagar-no-pagara/#fuckin-aardvarks

Also in Berlin:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/16/die-miete-ist-zu-hoch/#assets-v-human-rights

The fight for decent housing is the fight for a decent world. That's why unions have joined the fight for better, de-financialized housing. When a union member spends two hours commuting every day from a black-mold-filled apartment that costs 50% of their paycheck, they suffer just as surely as if their boss cut their wage:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/13/i-want-a-roof-over-my-head/#and-bread-on-the-table

The solutions to our housing crises aren't all that complicated – they just run counter to the interests of speculators and the ruling class. Rent control, which neoliberal economists have long dismissed as an impossible, inevitable disaster, actually works very well:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/16/mortgages-are-rent-control/#housing-is-a-human-right-not-an-asset

As does public housing:

https://jacobin.com/2023/10/red-vienna-public-affordable-housing-homelessness-matthew-yglesias

There are ways to have a decent home and a decent life without being burdened with debt, and without being a pawn in someone else's highly leveraged casino bet.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/22/koteswar-jay-gajavelli/#if-you-ever-go-to-houston

Image: Boy G/Google Maps (modified) https://pluralistic.net/timberridge

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drdemonprince · 1 year ago

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Thousands of people did not just suddenly stop using headphones one day because they felt like it, or because they stopped caring about people with sensory sensitivities like me. No, people stopped using headphones because cell phone manufacturers stopped including headphone jacks in their products.

My sensory-processing issues are a physical element of my disability that would absolutely still exist in a world without capitalism. Like my poor fine motor control and reduced muscle tone, my sensory processing issues debilitate me: there are tasks I simply cannot perform because of how my body is wired, and this makes me different from most other people in ways that are non-negotiable. Still, my physical disabilities are worsened quite clearly by capitalism: Because large corporations have both a profit motive and a vested interest in reinvesting those profits into advertisements, and because the internet does not receive public financial support, my daily life is bombarded with bright, noisy, flashing, disruptive advertisements, which makes it far more difficult for me to process relevant information and can swiftly bring me to the verge of a meltdown. If the internet were funded as a public utility and was therefore not sandblasted in ads, I would be less disabled. If my local streets were less plastered in billboards and littered with junk mail advertising chain restaurants, I would be less disabled.

Because companies like Apple financially rely upon consumers replacing their phones on an annual basis (despite how unsustainable and murderously cruel continuing to mine cobalt in Sudan for the production of all these new phones is), I must replace my phone regularly. With an updated phone model I lose my headphone jack and have to adapt to a new operating system and layout, and so my sensory issues and executive functioning challenges are exacerbated. In a world where phones were produced in order to help human beings function rather than to make money, I would be less disabled. Thanks to capitalism, I cannot exist in public if I am not purchasing anything. I cannot simply be present in a store, coffee shop, or even public plaza, enjoying my surroundings and taking the sight of other people in. I must contribute to the economy in order to justify it. If the brickwork of a nearby building fascinates me and I crave to feel it against my palms, I have to pretend that I wish to buy it, and be prepared to tell anyone who asks that that’s what I intend to do. I can’t even stand on the corner and feel the sun on my face without worrying my neighbors might find it unusual and send the cops. As an Autistic person, I often can’t fake being a perpetual consumer well enough. My desire to simply elope around my environment and take in new, interesting sensations registers as suspicious or concerningly mentally ill. And so I am further disabled and excluded from public life.

The full essay is free to read or have narrated to you at drdevonprice.substack.com

#disability #autism #adhd #accessibility #neurodivergence #social model of disability

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mister0ctopus · 2 days ago

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apart-mental issues part 2

mini series - jeon jungkook

Pairings: Neighbor JK x Reader

Summary: Just your awkward and embarrassing encounters with your next-door neighbor, Jungkook. This story has three parts.

PART 2 of 3 acceptance is key divas welcome to after hours what can i get ya? cockblock! we should start a podcast handyman buried things avoidance open the door crack mush mush

Ratings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Warnings: Explicit language, Mature Contents

Au/Genre: Mini Series, Neighbors, Enemies to Lovers, Angst, Smut, Fluff

Word Count: 5.9K

a/n: inspired by when i moved to my new apartment and my next door neighbor wasnt jungkook :(

🐙 Masterlist / AskMe

apart-mental issues part 1 apart-mental issues part 2 apart-mental issues part 3 (wip)

🔑 acceptance is key

You gave up.

You’d stopped wondering why Jungkook always seemed to catch you at your most awkward.

It was like you were that good at embarrassing yourself, and he was that good at being there to witness it.

But his presence felt significant, not just because he always seemed to be there, but because those moments—however embarrassing—had started to feel oddly comforting, like someone silently rooting for you in the background.

Like that one person you never actually spoke to but who consistently likes all your posts?

Whether it was your latest hallway stumble or your random solo commentary about your grocery list, Jungkook was always there.

Watching. Smirking. Shaking his head.

Avoiding him stopped being a thing. You stopped trying.

It got harder to keep a fixed schedule.

Your classes kept switching between in-person lectures and online sessions as you focused on your thesis.

The apartment building turned into a stage for accidental encounters—hallways, the garbage area, the stairs. You’d exchange hellos, quick chats, banters, and fleeting moments that made you feel less…alone.

Today was no different.

You stepped out of your door, balancing your bag and an iced coffee, only to find him locking his door. His hair was still slightly damp, and he was dressed in an oversized white shirt and jeans.

“Morning,” he greeted, his voice low and slightly raspy, like he hadn’t been awake long. His dimple made its familiar appearance when he smiled, and you couldn’t help but let your gaze linger for a few seconds.

“Morning,” you managed to squeak, juggling your bag and fumbling with your keys. Your iced coffee wobbled dangerously in your hand.

You knew he was watching you struggle, but you didn’t know he was biting his lip to hold back a grin.

Finally locking your door and securing your coffee, you shot him a glance. “So, what’s the agenda today? More random appliance repairs for desperate neighbors?”

“Maybe,” he said, chuckling as he stepped beside you. “Depends on how many people I see kicking trash bins today.”

You groaned and covered your face with your hands, realizing he’d seen your meltdown. “Okay, that was one time. And it was a moment of weakness.”

He shrugged, slipping his hands into his jeans’ pockets. “Hey, no biggie. We all have our moments. There’s no shame in that.”

A warm feeling spread through you. Too warm. Too comfortable. You rolled your eyes and waved. “Alright, alright. Bye, Jungkook.”

💃🏻 divas

You had a presentation coming up, and, despite years of experience, the fear of speaking in front of people never quite went away.

The thought of standing in front of your class still made your stomach drop. So, you’d been practicing nonstop, trying to memorize the key points to calm your nerves.

By the time you hit the stairs of your apartment building, you were already in full-on presentation mode.

“Speech, speech, agriculture and resource management, speech, speech, inclusive development for a more equitable world—” you waved your hand dramatically as you climbed.

“And that, my dear friends,” you muttered to yourself, “is why we’re taking economics to... to TAKE THE FREEDOM WE DESERVE!” You raised your fist in the air like you were leading a revolution.

When you reached the top, you finished with a flourish, curtsying as though you’d just wrapped up a Broadway performance. “Why thank you, thank you. No time to prepare—it was all impromptu!”

CLAP, CLAP, CLAP

You froze.

Of course.

Jungkook. Standing at the bottom of the stairs with an amused grin plastered across his face, his eyes sparkling like he'd just witnessed the best performance of a century.

You blinked.

You'd grown used to these perfectly timed encounters with him, but that didn't make them any less embarrassing.

So, without missing a beat, you turned to him, giving a dramatic bow, as if the applause was exactly what you expected. “Thank you, thank you,” you said with an exaggerated flourish, playing along. “I couldn’t have done it without my loyal fans!”

Later that night, you found yourself in his kitchen, sipping tea as Jungkook crouched on the floor, sleeves rolled up, intensely focused on fixing your ancient electric fan.

Yes, it was old, but it was salvageable, and the repair was free in exchange for a cup of tea.

“You know,” you said, watching as he tightened a screw, “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who willingly fixes things for their neighbors. Is this, like, a secret hobby or something?”

He glanced up at you, lips curling into a teasing smile. “Neighbor,” he corrected. “You’re the only one getting this free repair service. And no, not a hobby. I do this at work—electronic appliances, product development, testing… all the boring stuff.”

"Boring?" you echoed, raising an eyebrow. "No way. Not boring at all. Honestly, I think I should be friends with you, just in case. If you haven’t noticed, I’m basically a walking disaster. I could definitely use a repair guy!"

He laughed, setting the screwdriver down. "Hmm, should I start charging?" He leaned back against the counter, looking at you with a smirk. "So, what are you studying?"

“Just wrapping up my bachelor’s in economics,” you said, taking a sip of tea.

“And working too, right?” he added, tilting his head.

“Yup. Waitressing in the meantime,” you replied with a grin. “So, you know, living the dream. Hot stuff.”

His eyes widened slightly, clearly impressed. “Economics? While working? Wow. That’s… wild. And kind of amazing.”

“Yeah, right?” you replied, playfully tucking your hair behind your ear.

Jungkook’s gaze lingered on you a moment longer than necessary before he cleared his throat and turned back to the fan.

The conversation drifted from school to work to random bits of life—your rambling and his chuckles filling the space.

By the time he finished fixing the fan, you realized you’d been standing in his kitchen for over an hour.

🍻 welcome to after hours what can i get ya?

The next day, your shift started like any other at the bustling bar.

It was a casual spot, perfect for after-work crowds and people looking to unwind.

It was also known for its servers—those who “enhanced the customer experience” with short skirts, crop tops, and a whole lot of upbeat energy.

You adjusted your uniform, the cut highlighting your cleavage and legs. The regulars' eyes already followed you, but you'd grown used to it. It was just part of the job.

Balancing a tray of beers and nachos, you navigated the packed floor with practiced ease.

Then, you turned a corner and—

Jungkook?

There he was. Right in the middle of a group of coworkers, laughing at something one of them had said.

For a second, everything froze. His eyes locked onto yours, and his jaw dropped. He quickly grabbed his water glass and brought it to his lips—only to choke when he fully realized who he was looking at.

You’d told him you worked as a server—you just never mentioned where. Did that matter?

“Are you okay?” one of his friends asked, slapping his back as Jungkook coughed.

You? Completely unbothered. Professional. Cool. Totally unaffected by the fact that your cute, laid-back neighbor was sitting there, staring at you like he’d just realized you had boobs. Or a woman. Not the pale, messy-haired, oversized hoodie-wearing mess you were at home.

“Hi, welcome to After Hours,” you said smoothly, pulling out your notepad. “What can I get for you guys?”

Jungkook’s friends rattled off their orders—beer, nachos, the usual—but Jungkook? He stayed silent, eyes still wide, locked on you.

“And you?” You turned to him, giving him a soft smile.

“Uh—just, uh, a burger,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

“Fries with that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, smile never leaving your lips.

“S-sure,” he stammered, those boba eyes wide and a little embarrassed.

“Got it,” you replied, flashing him a full smile. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.” You turned to leave, but you swore you caught him sighing softly as you walked away.

The smirk that crept onto your face was unavoidable. He’d tried to play it cool, but his eyes had lingered just a bit longer. Not that you blamed him. The uniform was designed to get reactions like that, and you knew the effect it had.

Yeah, I look different in my work clothes.

Wait, why are you enjoying this?

When you returned with their beers, you set them down with practiced grace. “Enjoy,” you said, in a rehearsed, flirty voice, flashing another sweet smile before turning to walk away.

As you leave, you heard one of his friends say, “Dude, she’s hot.”

You didn’t catch Jungkook’s reply, but you kept walking. Still, the smirk never quite left your lips.

🍆 cockblock!

The next evening, you were coming home from work, juggling a grocery bag and your tote when you spotted Jungkook ahead of you, walking toward his door. You were about to joke about your brief interaction at the bar the night before, but—

This time, he wasn’t alone.

There she was—tall, gorgeous, and effortlessly stylish. She stood by his door as Jungkook unlocked it, laughing at something he’d said, her hand resting on his arm.

You froze mid-step. Should you keep walking? Turn around? Pretend you’d forgotten something?

Why did you feel so awkward?

Too late. He looked up and saw you.

“Hey,” he greeted casually, flashing you his usual soft smile.

You managed a stiff "hey" in return, offering a tight-lipped smile and a quick nod before bolting to your door like a startled deer.

Inside, you tossed your keys onto the counter, muttering under your breath, “Cute. Whatever. I don’t care.”

But you did.

You stood there, groceries in hand, staring at the counter. What was this feeling?

You couldn’t name it. It lingered, unresolved, like a song stuck in your head but with no tune.

You lay down on your bed, staring at the ceiling, bracing yourself for the night. Part of you half-expected to hear the sounds of his obviously better-than-yours sex life drifting in from next door.

Thin walls.

But the night stayed quiet. Too quiet.

The next morning, you bumped into him on your way to class. He was dressed in sweats and a shirt, his hair slightly tousled like he’d just rolled out of bed, a black plastic trash bag in his hand.

“Morning,” he said, offering that small, easy smile.

You hesitated before blurting out, “Thanks for keeping it quiet last night. As you can see, I had to get up early for class today.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard, before a grin spread across his face. “Oh, uh... that’s because she didn’t stay long.”

You froze. “Oh…Okay. Well, I hope I didn’t cockblock or anything.”

Jungkook let out a soft laugh, brief but warm. “All good.” His eyes crinkled at the corners, and you swore you felt your stomach flip.

You couldn’t think of anything else to say, so you nodded awkwardly and turned to walk away, silently cursing yourself.

“Hey,” he called after you.

You stopped and turned, heart racing for no reason.

“Yeah?”

“Have a good day.” He shrugged, his smile lingering longer than neccesary.

“You too,” you mumbled before hurrying toward the exit. Your cheeks may or may not have been red.

As you walked away, you realized your hands were gripping the strap of your bag so tightly it hurt.

Stupid Jungkook, with his stupid bunny smile.

🎙️ we should start a podcast

“YOU THINK I WOULDN’T FIND OUT?!” A loud voice, followed by the unmistakable crash of something glass breaking.

You glanced at the time—7:10 am.

The walls of this building might as well be paper.

Groaning, you buried your head in your pillow. You were free today. No classes. No work. Just sleep.

The yelling grew louder, words like “cheater” and “homewrecker” repeatedly thrown around during the heated argument.

Sleep was a lost cause now. You sighed and sat up, glancing at the clock.

By the time you opened your door to investigate the noise, Jungkook was already leaning in his doorway, a mug in hand, grinning like he was watching a reality TV show.

“Good morning!” he said, raising the mug in a mock toast.

“Ugh! They’re still going?” you grumbled, rubbing your eyes as you heard the voices not backing down.

He shook his head, chuckling. “But free entertainment, right?”

You couldn’t help but laugh.

You’d planned to sleep in, but somehow, you ended up in the middle of the hallway with Jungkook, coffee in hand, both of you fully immersed in the commotion.

You’d nod dramatically whenever someone made a solid point, raising your mug like you were cheering them on, and then pull exaggerated faces every time someone threw out a lame argument. Honestly, this was way more entertaining than staying in bed.

A few hours later, you and Jungkook were on your couch, two empty bowls of bibimbap scattered on the coffee table. You were trading theories about the fighting neighbors. Jungkook’s convinced the third party is someone from within the building.

“Jungkook, where are you getting this idea? Only Murders in the Building? You don’t even watch that show!” you groaned. It’s been hours, and he’s still holding on to this theory.

He leaned in, eyes wide with drama. “I swear I saw the guy in the parking lot at 10 pm last week. He was with a blonde lady who looked like the woman from the first floor. Heavy smoker, big hair, dirty blonde? You know her. They whispering.”

“What if they’re just talking? Friendly talk?” you quipped, not buying his theory because of weak evidence.

“In the dark? Behind a car? At 10 pm?!” He was practically jumping off the couch.

“Well, still! They could be just talking.”

“Whispering,” he corrected. “And about what? Hmm? Recipes? Best day to take out the trash? What’s so important to discuss at 10 pm in the dark?”

He was so invested now, his hands gesturing with full animation.

“Okay, okay, calm down, Perez Hilton. Jeez.” You raised your hand, mock surrendering.

He threw his head back, and you both laughed.

“We should start a podcast. Only Gossips in the Building with Jungkook & YN,” he said, his eyes glinting with excitement.

And just like that, your conversation was a whirl of podcast names, wild theories, and dramatic reenactments.

Hours flew by, with no signs of slowing down.

🔧 handyman

The next morning, you barely managed to drag yourself out of bed for your morning online class, splashing water on your face in a half-awake state. As you reached for your laptop, a knock at the door startled you.

Opening it hesitantly, you found Jungkook standing there, a black repair tool box in hand and a soft smile on his lips.

“Good morning!” he said, his voice a little too cheerful.

“Good... morning?” you replied, eyebrows furrowed. You were too groggy to connect why he, was at your door first thing in the morning.

He gestured toward your living room. “So, I noticed your bookshelf yesterday—half-built, just sitting there taking up space, and, well, I figured you’re home for classes this morning, right? Thought I’d finish it.”

Oh. That bookshelf. You cringed internally as you remembered your disastrous DIY attempt. The instructions had seemed so simple… until they weren't. That was three weeks ago.

“Honestly? I could really use your expert services,” you admitted, stepping aside to let him in.

He chuckled and followed you to the living room. Kneeling in front of the half-built bookshelf, he inspected it with a quick glance.

“My services aren’t free anymore,” he said, deadpan.

You gasped in mock offense. “Wow, already monetizing your skills? How much are we talking here?”

“I’m happy with just a cozy cup of coffee,” he said with a playful smirk, not looking up.

You clutched your chest dramatically. “Oh, thank goodness. Something I can actually afford. Guess I should milk this generosity before you raise your rates, kind sir.”

His laugh was low but genuine as you shuffled to the kitchen.

When you returned with the coffee, you handed it to him like it was a prized treasure. “Here you go. Only the finest instant brew.

He accepted the cup with a quiet “thank you” and focused on the instruction manual you’d abandoned weeks ago.

“I’ll be at the dining table for my lec…” You paused mid-sentence, scanning for your bag when you remembered you still needed to put on some lip tint. You couldn't show up looking like a zombie today for an important class.

Jungkook, still waiting for you to finish, simply stared at you, his gaze soft but expectant.

“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, distracted. “Just remembered I need to look alive for class today.” You quickly began rummaging through your bag as soon as you found it on the couch, your fingers grazing over everything but the lip tint.

“You look perfect no matter what,” he said casually, not missing a beat, his attention already back on the bookshelf.

Your heart skipped a beat, the warmth spreading across your cheeks as his words settled in. You tried to shake it off, your voice a little shakier than usual.

“Lectures starting soon, so… if you need anything, which I highly doubt, just wave me down.”

You didn’t even look at him when you spoke, but his simple compliment hit you harder than you expected, and your stomach fluttered in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

From your seat at the dining table, you caught glimpses of him—his brows furrowed in concentration, an occasional nibble on his lower lip. Every now and then, his eyes flicked toward you, and you could’ve sworn he caught you staring back at him too.

By the time your class wrapped up, Jungkook had not only finished the bookshelf but had also fixed the lamp that he’d switched on yesterday but didn’t work.

As he packed up his tools, you blurted, “I’m so sorry. A cup of coffee isn’t enough for all this work.”

He shrugged, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “It’s fine. I had the time. Besides, I couldn’t just let these things stay broken when they’re easy fixes… they mess with my peace.”

You rolled your eyes. "Okay, Mr. ‘I can fix you’ guy. But still..."

An idea popped into your head, and before you could second-guess it, you walked over to the fridge.

“Hey, so, I made pasta last night... It’s not, like, fancy or anything. I was actually craving japchae but, didn’t have the ingredients, so... pasta. Anyway, um, take this as payment? I mean, if you want... It’s not much, but it’s food, so... yeah.” You hesitated, still unsure about offering your cooking. It wasn’t exactly top chef materiall. You offered the container to him.

His smile widened as he took the container. “Pasta works. Thanks. Wow, honestly, I’m enjoying getting paid more than I thought.”

“Good,” you quipped, opening the door for him. “Maybe we can negotiate a discount next time?”

He chuckled, giving a lazy wave as he stepped out. “See you, YN.”

The next morning, when you opened your door to start your day, a paper bag greeted you. Inside was your container, now filled with japchae, and a note:

“I cooked too much last night. – JK”

⚰️ buried things

Slowly, without meaning to, Jungkook became a constant in your life.

Before you even realized it, you found yourself spending more and more time in each other’s apartments, as if it just... happened.

You slowly started making space for each other in the chaos of your busy lives, finding yourselves yapping away at the end of each exhausting day.

You’d talk about the most random and dumbest things—the mundane happenings in the apartment, his annoying coworker that he’d impersonate to perfection, or your professor, whom you were pretty sure was having an affair with one of the faculty staff.

And you’d end up laughing so hard, you’d be on the floor, tears in your eyes.

He’d fix things for you without you asking or pick up on the little things you’d meant to take care of but forgot.

He’d listen to your mindless ramblings. You’d catch yourself mid-story, realizing you had already told him this a million times before—and you’d apologize. But Jungkook would just look at you, smile, and say, “It’s okay, I like hearing this story. Especially the part where you—“ and he'd lean in, genuinely interested in what you said.

It was like he saw all the tiny messes in your life, both literal and figurative, and took care of them because he wanted to. It was just in his nature.

And somehow, you started feeling more and more comfortable talking to him about everything—those random, unfiltered thoughts that flitted through your mind. You didn’t feel the weight of being judged or the worry of being too weird.

You didn’t even know when it happened, but somewhere along the way, you started really noticing him. It wasn’t just that he was attractive—though, of course, he was—but there was something beyond that.

You noticed little things.

Like, how good he smelled, that subtle hint of fresh laundry mixed with his cologne. Or how he’d touch his ears when he got shy.

And oh, food! The way he got so dramatic about it. When the food was amazing, his face would scrunch up like he was about to start a fight with anyone. It was like he was angry, but also excited, and it was so ridiculously endearing.

But the one thing you couldn’t ignore anymore is the way his eyes lingered on you. Not in a way that felt strange, but in a way that felt like he saw you.

There seemed to be stars in his eyes, and sometimes they lit up even in the dark, appearing brighter when you smiled.

The things you've buried are clawing their way to the surface, and it terrifies you.

It’s been ages since you allowed yourself to truly feel.

How do you face what’s been hidden for so long?

So, you do what’s easiest, what’s most familiar:

🫥 avoidance

You avoided him again.

This is the best course of action.

When you heard his door open, you’d pause mid-step, holding your breath until you were sure he’d gone inside.

If you were in the hallway when he appeared, you’d suddenly remember something you “forgot” in your apartment and make a quick retreat.

Once, you almost tripped over your own shoes in your rush to slam your door shut. Smooth.

"People can only meet you as deeply as they've met themselves."

And you're not ready to meet yourself at the level life is requiring you to be at.

But Jungkook noticed. Of course, he did.

One evening, there was a knock at your door.

🚪open the door

You hesitated before opening the door, uncertainty gnawing at you. Were you ready for this?

When you did open it, there he was—Jungkook, standing with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—his eyes were searching.

“Are you avoiding me?” he asked, blunt as ever, but his tone was gentle, almost hesitant.

“No,” you replied too quickly, the word almost sounding like a question.

He raised an eyebrow. “Then stop pretending you don’t see me in the hallway. Stop shutting the door before I can say hi. Stop avoiding me.”

You winced, retreating into the safety of your living room. He followed, shutting the door quietly behind him. “I’m not—”

“Sure. You’re just too busy, right?” he said, his voice softer but laced with frustration.

You folded your arms defensively. “I am! Work and school are killing me, Jungkook. I barely have time for myself, let alone anyone else.”

Silence hung between you.

When you finally turned back to face him, he sighed softly. Slowly, he stepped closer, his hands still buried in his pockets as if to keep them from reaching out.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice low and steady. “I just… I feel like you’re avoiding me, and I don’t know why, or if I’ve done something wrong. That’s all.”

You shook your head, unsure of how to respond. Confrontation wasn’t your strong suit, and right now, you felt cornered.

"I’m sorry," was all you could manage.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t awkward, but it was heavy, charged. His gaze didn’t waver as it traced over your face, as if searching for some hidden clue. Your heart raced beneath the weight of it.

“What?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

“I need to tell you something,” he said, his tone serious but gentle. “But you don’t have to do anything about it, okay? I just... I can’t keep it to myself anymore.”

You froze.

His eyes held that look—like he was about to spill something that had been bottled up for too long.

You’ve never been good with spilled milk. Do you just wipe it up? What if it’s too much to handle?

Can you just leave it and cry? Panic crept in, and you took a step back.

No no no.

“Jungkook—”

“I like you, YN” he said, cutting you off. His voice was steady, but his hands fidgeted with his thumb, betraying the tension in his body. You caught the slight tremble in his fingers as he continued, “A lot. And I know I wasn’t exactly subtle.”

Your breath caught. “I... I don’t know what to say—”

“It’s okay,” he said, his words softer now, warmer. “I just needed to tell you, because it’s been sitting with me for a while. I don’t expect anything from you. There’s no pressure to respond or feel the same way. I just think…you deserve to know how amazing I think you are. That’s all.”

There it was. Spilled.

You stood there, frozen for a moment, as his words settled around you, your mind scrambling for the right words, but none came. His gaze held yours, patient and kind. He took another step forward, his hands reaching up to gently rest on your shoulders.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. As if he read the questions in your head, he added, “It’s okay. You don’t have to figure everything out right now.”

He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his warm fingers brushing your cheek for just a moment.

You felt a shiver run through you at the softness of his touch and closed your eyes, letting it linger.

“Okay,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

“Okay,” he said, his lips curling into the faintest smile.

And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel rushed.

You didn’t feel like you had to fix anything, clean up the mess, or even apologize for the things you couldn’t face.

It was enough to just be.

🖤 crack

You feel like dying. No seriously.

Achy, feverish, and barely able to breathe through your nose, you debated ignoring the insistent knock at your door. You know it is Jungkook, who else?

You open the door to find Jungkook standing there, his bunny smile all teeth flashing and eyes crinkling. “Hey, I cooked too much last night,” he says, holding up a huge container. But his smile fades into concern when he sees your state—blanket draped over you, eyes red.

“Wait, are you sick?” he asks, placing his hand on your forehead.

“Yeah, I feel like dying. I’m just gonna sleep it off—”

“You need to eat and take medicine,” he cuts you off as he steps inside.

“Jungkook, I’m literally contagious—”

“My immune system is strong, I’m not gonna get sick,” he says confidently, already heading into your kitchen and rummaging through your cabinets like he lives there.

“What are you doing?” you ask, wanting him to leave so you can go back to bed.

“I’m gonna reheat the food so you can take your medicine,” he says, placing the pot on the stove.

“Don’t you have work?”

He waves you off. “I’m not going in. My strong immune system and I are staying here,” he says with a gentle smile.

You groan, leaning against the doorframe of your room. “You’re gonna get sick too!”

“Nah,” he says, stirring the pot with a ladle. “But if I do, you’ll owe me, and I’ll think of something as payment.”

You blink at him, too sick to come up with a sharp reply. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re stubborn. Now, let’s get you to bed while we wait for your food.” He smiles as he gently guides your shoulder toward the bed.

You obey, mostly because you don’t have the energy to fight him, and watch as he moves around your apartment, reheating the soup and fussing over your blanket situation, saying it wasn’t warm enough.

You sleep the entire day, letting the sickness take over, but Jungkook makes sure you eat, stay hydrated, and take your medicine. He checks your temperature every four hours and places a damp cloth on your forehead.

When you woke up in the middle of the night, you found him curled up on the couch. You noticed he had changed from his work clothes this morning into sweatpants and a hoodie, which was now pulled over his head, his face smooshed into a pillow. His legs were bent awkwardly to fit your short couch, and the blanket you’d thrown over him earlier had slipped halfway onto the floor.

You shuffled closer, your socks muffling your steps. "Hey," you whispered, gently nudging his shoulder.

"Hey," he mumbled, blinking up at you groggily. "You okay? Need something?"

"Yeah.” You smiled softly, trying to keep the laugh from escaping at how adorable he looked, all disoriented and sleepy. "You to not sleep on my couch."

He blinked at you in confusion, his sleepy eyes squinting. "What? Why? It's fine—"

"Just come sleep on the bed with me. Please?" you interrupted, your arms instinctively wrapping around yourself to ward off the chill.

He stared at you for a moment, his gaze softening as his lips tugged into the faintest smile. "Are you sure?"

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Yes. Let’s go."

His smile widened, and the dim light from the lamp caught in his eyes, making them sparkle. Slowly, he sat up, picked up the blanket from the floor, and followed you to your room.

The bed creaked slightly as he slid under the covers beside you, keeping a noticeable gap between you both. His movements were careful, as though he was afraid to disturb you more than he already had.

"Don’t steal the blankets," you mumbled, already half-asleep again as you burrowed into your pillow.

"Wouldn’t dream of it," he murmured back, his voice so soft and gentle it felt like a warm blanket of its own.

You felt the faintest brush of his breath as he settled beside you, and the space between you seemed to hum with a comfortable warmth.

You drifted back to sleep with a clogged nose and a full heart.

The next morning, when you woke up feeling more like yourself, Jungkook was gone. But there was a neatly folded note on your nightstand, beside a full water bottle and your medicines neatly arranged.

Take your meds on time, okay? There’s food in the fridge for the whole day. Rest up. I’ll see you tonight. – JK

You sat there, staring at the note, feeling your chest tighten in the best way. Like this tiny piece of paper had power over you. And then, like it was nothing, you felt the corners of your mouth curve into a smile.

When you opened the fridge , you find everything prepped and labeled, you couldn’t help but feel flutters in your stomach.

After eating and taking your medicine, you returned to bed. As you settled under the covers, you heard a crack... but you smiled, because it was just the walls you’d built starting to crumble.

♥️ mush mush

Life with Jungkook had become like a well-worn hoodie—cozy, familiar, and easy. It was a rhythm that felt so natural, you sometimes wondered how you’d survived without it. You’d always thought your schedule, your goals, and that thick wall around your heart left no room for anyone else.

But he didn’t just fit into your life. He expanded it, creating space for you to breathe and for himself to occupy every empty corner you hadn’t realized was there.

You learned his quirky habits, and he learned yours.

His laundry hobby (yes, hobby) was a serious thing to him. Jungkook treated it like a sacred ritual, complete with special detergent and fabric softener combos he swore by. “It’s about the clothes-to-detergent ratio,” he’d explain, holding up his freshly laundered Calvin Klein boxers like a badge.

Meanwhile, you’d start one task—say, doing the dishes—and somehow end up reorganizing your bookshelf because, obviously, that was the logical next step. Jungkook would laugh when he caught you confused, gently nudge you back to the original task, or finish whatever you had left undone.

The cooking thing had become a ritual too. You’d started cooking for each other when time allowed—mostly him, though, because he was always willing to cook. So, on your day off, you decided to surprise him with his favorite dish. When he walked in and saw it, his face lit up, eyes wide with genuine surprise.

“Did you make this for me?” he asked, his voice dripping with surprise, his eyes big and bright.

“No,” you shot back, “It’s for the cute guy right next door.”

“Oh, he’s cute? No, no, he doesn’t want to be called cute. He’s hot, right?” He pouted.

“Yeah,” you replied, taking a bite, “He’s so hot I’m gonna ride his dick someday.”

Jungkook choked—and you couldn’t help but laugh. He looked at you in wide-eyed disbelief, but his smile was already tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Careful, baby.” He smirked. “That’s a very dangerous thing to say.”

You just kept eating like you hadn’t just said something that made your own insides warm. But your bravado faltered when Jungkook leaned closer, his fingers brushing against your lips.

“You’ve got sauce,” he said softly, wiping it away with his thumb. And then—like it was the most casual thing in the world—he brought his thumb to his lips, licking it clean.

The sound he made was enough to make you press your legs together.

Fucking hell.

Of course, you’d had your moments. The intense, messy, make-out sessions that left you breathless and tangled in each other’s arms. But nothing beyond that. Not yet.

Because Jungkook was gentle. Respectful. Even though you could see the hunger in his eyes, he never pushed. Never made you feel like you were anything less than perfect, even with all your hesitations.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want him.

Jesus, have you seen the man? A full-course meal. A body that screams sex, a face that could make anyone write fanfics about him. He could easily be a Calvin Klein model!

But some part of you still felt like crossing that line was final. A seal on something monumental, something with the power to change your world in ways that scared you more than you'd ever admit.

But tonight, as you watched him laugh at your antics and go about his weird little Jungkook ways, you realized something else.

It’s been two months since his confession, and even though he told you he didn’t need an answer, you know deep down that you can’t keep avoiding it.

Jungkook had bared his feelings with such honesty and vulnerability, and even if he insisted he didn’t want a yes or no, you knew better.

Because you knew, deep down, the walls around your heart had fallen…

Crushed, powdered, nothing but dust now.

And as you sat with that realization, you understood something even more profound:

It wasn’t force that shattered them.

It was his gentleness.

2/3

<- Prev Next -> (wip)

a/n: hey <3 if you enjoyed this piece, could you let me know what you liked? it helps me understand what kind of writing i’ll focus on in the future. thanks for your kind words, really really made my heart dance holy shit just realized i have a validation kink aaaah! thanks for reading! -🐙

taglist: @goldietigers294 @ericawantstoescape @kyljjk @daskewl

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inbabylontheywept · 2 months ago

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Following back on the recent fusionposting to run a very technically unqualified intuition I have by you

When talking about baseload power generation, the conversation inevitably turns to nuclear, with a common narrative that certain countries are irrationally afraid of nuclear for not copying the successful policies of their neighbours (usually it's about Germany or Austria needing to emulate France)

What I've wanted to run by you is this viewpoint I've had for a while - that the economics of nuclear power are different from other sources, and that that may better explain the choices of policymakers:

The procurement of nuclear power seems much closer to military procurement in my eyes, with costs stemming from the management of standards, supply chains being inflexible and project/nation-dependent, and the costs of maintaining regional expertise overshadowing the costs that build physical capital.

Can you confirm/disconfirm any of these impressions?

I'm only slightly more qualified than you, unfortunately. I haven't work in the nuclear power sector. I have coworkers that have, and their stories do seem to check out with your descriptions.

Like, in a military style contract, parts might cost 4 times as much as a civilian part, because the military tests the parts much, much more stringently. You don't test the screws at home depot to make sure they match the metal composition, or that their sheer strength matches X, or on and on. You have a baseline level of trust that comes from market forces. But military supplies don't have market forces to work with - there isn't exactly a market for, say, F-35s. So they have to try and catch this manually instead of via crowdsourcing, and the results are painful.

That's military procurement, and I work with that enough to know why it exists. Even if it hurts.

Now, that sound very similar to nuclear power, which also analyzes everything to the T because the cost of failure is so ridiculously high. The coworker I mentioned before that worked for reactor said her first year learn-the-ropes project was doing a report on the safety consequences of swapping the lights from fluorescent to LED in the main office buildings. It was a 200+ page thing going over how the new lights would affect the backup power duration stats, hazards of the new lights vs the old ones (LEDs are less tolereant of undervoltage than fluorescents), things like that. I would imagine that in that case, they probably spent at least 4 or 5 times as much analyzing the impact of the lighting than they actually spent on the lighting.

This drives efficiency oriented people kind of crazy, but the whole point of these systems is not to be efficient. It is to be extremely resistant to failure. Ludicrously, insanely, painfully resistant. Because in the military case, a bad batch of bolts normally worth $40 could make a $35 million plane crash, and in the nuclear case, a meltdown could literally cause trillions of dollars of damage. The Fukushima meltdown is estimated to have caused $200 billion worth of damage, and it was not even close to a worst case scenario.

Anyway, I'm rambling a little, but your intuition seems good to me. I love nuclear power, but people suggesting that we "slash all the red tape around it" scare the shit out of me. They have no idea what they're fucking with, and if we're all very, very lucky, they never will.

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beardedmrbean · 2 months ago

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Few in the media seemed eager to attend a ceremony last week in Washington, D.C., where the prestigious American Academy of Sciences and Letters was awarding its top intellectual freedom award.

The problem may have been the recipient: Stanford Professor Dr. Jay Bhattacharya.

Bhattacharya has spent years being vilified by the media over his dissenting views on the pandemic. As one of the signatories of the 2020 Great Barrington Declaration, he was canceled, censored, and even received death threats.

That open letter called on government officials and public health authorities to rethink the mandatory lockdowns and other extreme measures in light of past pandemics.

All the signatories became targets of an orthodoxy enforced by an alliance of political, corporate, media, and academic groups. Most were blocked on social media despite being accomplished scientists with expertise in this area.

It did not matter that positions once denounced as “conspiracy theories” have been recognized or embraced by many.

Some argued that there was no need to shut down schools, which has led to a crisis in mental illness among the young and the loss of critical years of education. Other nations heeded such advice with more limited shutdowns (including keeping schools open) and did not experience our losses.

Others argued that the virus’s origin was likely the Chinese research lab in Wuhan. That position was denounced by the Washington Post as a “debunked” coronavirus “conspiracy theory.” The New York Times Science and Health reporter Apoorva Mandavilli called any mention of the lab theory “racist.”

Federal agencies now support the lab theory as the most likely based on the scientific evidence.

The Biden administration tried to censor this Stanford doctor, but he won in court

Likewise, many questioned the efficacy of those blue surgical masks and supported natural immunity to the virus — both positions were later recognized by the government.

Others questioned the six-foot rule used to shut down many businesses as unsupported by science. In congressional testimony, Dr. Anthony Fauci recently admitted that the 6-foot rule “sort of just appeared” and “wasn’t based on data.” Yet not only did the rule result in heavily enforced rules (and meltdowns) in public areas, the media further ostracized dissenting critics.

Again, Fauci and other scientists did little to stand up for these scientists or call for free speech to be protected. As I discuss in my new book, “The Indispensable Right,” the result is that we never really had a national debate on many of these issues and the result of massive social and economic costs.

I spoke at the University of Chicago with Bhattacharya and other dissenting scientists in the front row a couple of years ago. After the event, I asked them how many had been welcomed back to their faculties or associations since the recognition of some of their positions.

They all said that they were still treated as pariahs for challenging the groupthink culture.

Now the scientific community is recognizing the courage shown by Bhattacharya and others with its annual Robert J. Zimmer Medal for Intellectual Freedom.

So what about all of those in government, academia, and the media who spent years hounding these scientists?

Universities shred their ethics to aid Biden’s social-media censorship

Biden Administration officials and Democratic members targeted Bhattacharya and demanded his censorship. For example, Rep. Raja Krishnamoorthi (D-Ill.) attacked Bhattacharya and others who challenged the official narrative during the pandemic. Krishnamoorthi expressed outrage that the scientists were even allowed to testify as “a purveyor of COVID-19 misinformation.”

Journalists and columnists also supported the censorship and blacklisting of these scientists. In the Los Angeles Times, columnist Michael Hiltzik decried how “we’re living in an upside-down world” because Stanford allowed these scientists to speak at a scientific forum. He was outraged that, while “Bhattacharya’s name doesn’t appear in the event announcement,” he was an event organizer. Hiltzik also wrote a column titled “The COVID lab leak claim isn’t just an attack on science, but a threat to public health.”

Then there are those lionized censors at Twitter who shadow-banned Bhattacharya. As former CEO Parag Agrawal generally explained, the “focus [was] less on thinking about free speech … [but[ who can be heard.”

None of this means that Bhattacharya or others were right in all of their views. Instead, many of the most influential voices in the media, government, and academia worked to prevent this discussion from occurring when it was most needed.

There is still a debate over Bhattacharya’s “herd immunity” theories, but there is little debate over the herd mentality used to cancel him.

The Academy was right to honor Bhattacharya. It is equally right to condemn all those who sought to silence a scientist who is now being praised for resisting their campaign to silence him and others.

#nunyas news

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prideprejudce · 2 years ago

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There was only 1 billionaire on the submersible. The Pakistani guy with his son are millionaires who have much less money than most American celebrities for example. But people just lying and saying they’re billionaires so they can get excited they died. Touch grass ma’am

are you telling me that your ‘gotcha!’ is the fact that the one guy from Pakistan might have been a millionaire and not a billionaire? even though he likely paid 500k (250k each) for two tickets to the bottom of the ocean? when Pakistan is currently going through an economic meltdown that is so bad that the citizens are fleeing to Europe by the dozens and risking their lives because inflation is at an all time high and there’s literally no jobs anymore?

And this millionaire/billionaire buys a half a million dollar trip down to the bottom of the ocean so he can gawk at the grave sight of poor people who lost their lives over a hundred years ago? that’s the hill you want to die on? that sounds like a fair trade of money to you? that’s your trump card argument? hello??? is there any sign of intelligent life out there???

#answered #anonymous #oceangate #titanic #the titanic #the titan #capitalism #wealth disparity #this is what you think is gonna make me say “’oh nvm hahahaha he’s only a MILLIONAIRE!!’#and you want ME to touch the grass?

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metamatar · 5 months ago

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india's hindutva middle class is having a meltdown because the new budget upped capital gains taxes and reduced income taxes. tbf they reduced corporate taxes as well so this isn't income redistribution or anything, but this is perceived as an attack by one of modi's strongest voter bases

The budget increased tax on long-term capital gains on all financial and non-financial assets to 12.5% from 10%. Assets held for over a year are considered long term.

Short-term capital gains will now be taxed at 20% instead of 15%.

The budget has also increased the securities transaction tax on derivatives trading.

This was widely expected, with the Economic Survey released a day earlier raising red flags about rising speculation and growing participation of retail investors in Indian equity markets.

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shadowfromthestarlight · 2 months ago

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Yesterday, November 3, 2024, I voted out of love. I surprised myself by doing so this year - I usually vote with a sense of resignation, or to say “screw you” to one side or to both. I went into 2024 expecting to vote out of hate. Hate for the “swamp.” Hate for bureaucracy. Hate for the UN and the World Economic Forum. Hate for people who’d basically tried to kill us for two years during the COVID-19 pandemic while telling us that we were the ones killing our neighbors. Hate for “journalists” who pretended to care about preserving our “democracy” while at the end of the day, always pushing a narrative that supported the mainstream politicians, big pharma, big food, and censorship. I wanted people like that running for the hills. I wanted whoever I voted for to be the candidate who had the biggest chance of sending the “elites” into a total meltdown. I liked Vivek for that job. I liked RFK Jr. If it had to be Trump, so be it… but he hadn’t drained the swamp the first time around.

But then some amazing things started to happen. People with the know-how and the will to drive real, lasting change in government joined Trump’s team. I heard JD Vance didn’t eat seed oils and I got interested. I noticed that Trump was attracting extremely intelligent, independent thinkers - how, unless they believed he was genuine about wanting to work with them and listen to their ideas? I decided that if RFK threw his hat in with Trump, I would, too.

Then he did. And central to their partnership was a desire to end the chronic disease crisis, which, over the past two years, has become one of the most important issues to me. And I saw the hand of God in that. I felt hope. I felt excitement. I felt like maybe this time, I could actually vote for change. Like this time, there was actually a candidate who stood a chance of “draining the swamp.” Like this time, I could actually vote for a better world.

If we win, I will be excited. And not just for me, for the whole country. Even for the people who voted Harris/Walz. Even for the people who voted Harris/Walz because they think people like me are racists and Nazis. I know several people who will be disappointed if we win, and I plan to greet them with a smile. Not a gleeful, gloating, spiteful smile, but one of warmth and welcoming. I want to tell them that things are not just gonna be okay, they’re gonna be more than okay. I want to invite them to see why I’m hopeful for our future. I want to greet them with love.

#election

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tomorrowusa · 11 months ago

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« Trump won’t just go away; he'll have to be defeated. And Haley can’t defeat him because she has no answer for the central problem: She needs the support of a group of voters who are religiously devoted to him.

However, I do believe that the longer she stays in the race, the more damage she’ll do to Trump’s bid.

[ … ]

It's probably not her intention, but Haley is providing a service to the nation: a soft launch of reminding voters that Trump is a chaos agent of the highest order who put the nation through a dizzying series of unnecessary crucibles that tested the very durability of our institutions and our ability to withstand his anti-democratic onslaught.

Haley has begun to do the work that Biden and his campaign team will greatly expand on — if they're smart. »

— Charles M. Blow writing in the New York Times.

For some bizarre reason, candidates for the GOP presidential nomination thought they could make headway without criticizing the deeply flawed frontrunner.

When Nikki Haley belatedly started slamming Trump, the public attention devoted to her campaign shot up. It's certainly too late to do her much good, but her attacks on Trump do increase the possibility of him responding in such a way that women voters would find offensive.

If Trump loses this year, the GOP will be in shambles. If the party doesn't disintegrate like the Whigs, it will be looking to somebody who was not tied too closely to Trump. By publicly creating some space between herself and The Orange One, Nikki Haley could be looking ahead to 2028.

In the meantime, the more people attacking Trump from different directions – the better. There's already some indication that Biden, or at least his surrogates, are stepping up attacks on Trump's economic record. Reminding voters that Trump's fumbling of the early pandemic response led to economic meltdown should get more emphasis.

#donald trump #nikki haley #attacking trump #gop presidential nomination #charles m. blow #election 2024

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reality-detective · 4 months ago

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I think we're nearing "End Game" "Checkmate" where things are about to get real crazy? 👇

Black Swan Event! The World’s Most Powerful Families Are Crafting Global Chaos – Trump Is Leading the Fight Against a Globalist Cabal!

In the clandestine corridors of power, a sinister plot is unfolding—one that mocks the very democracy and freedom we hold dear. This is not just another historical manipulation, but a shadow war waged by a cabal of power-hungry elites, tracing their bloodlines back to the darkest realms of the Illuminati and the counterfeit AshkeNAZI lineage.

The Rothschilds, Rockefellers, and their ilk have orchestrated every major catastrophe of the 20th and 21st centuries. From the World Wars to economic collapses and the recent pandemic, each disaster serves their ultimate goal: total global domination through chaos and despair.

The United Nations and Israel? Not geopolitical strategies, but key pieces in their grand chess game. Under the guise of international cooperation, these institutions enable the elites to conduct heinous crimes—from human trafficking rings to covert biological warfare on innocent populations. The CIA is merely a puppet in their hands, enforcing their will across the globe, with Ukraine becoming the latest battleground where their twisted agenda plays out.

But it doesn’t stop there. The elites have infiltrated every corner of society—from the financial crashes they orchestrate to the dictators they install. Even Google, Facebook, and YouTube are weapons in their arsenal, controlling thought, manipulating reality, and silencing those who dare to speak out.

As these elites sense their plans unraveling, they retreat into private banking and cryptic financial channels, but their ultimate aim remains clear: the collapse of global economies to establish a new world order under their absolute control. They think their plan is foolproof, but they didn't anticipate the rise of counterforces.

Trump and General Flynn have been laying the groundwork for a massive counterstrike, executing covert operations to dismantle the Deep State from within. The Quantum Financial System (QFS), a revolutionary technology, is their secret weapon, designed to overthrow the corrupt financial structures of the elites and bring about a new era of transparency and freedom.

As the world teeters on the brink of a Black Swan event, engineered economic meltdowns and social chaos are distractions from their true aim: the Great Reset. This terrifying new world order would mark the end of monetary privacy and the final tightening of their iron grip on the global populace.

But patriots worldwide, take heed! The storm is here. This battle for the soul of humanity is not some far-off conflict—it’s happening now. Trump’s coalition is fighting on the frontlines, preparing to activate the QFS and dismantle the elite’s centuries-old network.

Stay alert, stay vigilant. The Great Awakening has arrived. This is our moment—resist, or be swept away in their final bid for tyranny. The truth is your weapon, and awareness your shield. The endgame is here.

This is why I have been saying there won't be an election. It's going to get ugly! 🤔

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radlymona · 2 months ago

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People are like “we need the liberal version of Joe Rogan and Ben Shapiro” and it’s like but what do they have to offer? Podcasts about social inequality, racism and climate change? About the housing crisis?

People listening to these podcasts don’t want to coherent political and economic analysis they want content slop about how Haitian immigrants are eating cats and dogs, and showing women and gay people having meltdowns in debates and cancel culture and the Carnivore diet and isolation tanks and the vaccines will kill you and how Halle Bailey as Ariel is a sign that the woke mob will take your rights away and mass shooting victims are actually crisis actors.

There is no political coherence to this demographic, they’re just dumb. Even living paycheck to paycheck won’t make them realise the position they’ve subjugated themselves in. They’ll spend the rest of their lives blaming the invisible liberal elite while the Republicans they vote in grow richer and richer from the tax breaks they cut themselves all the while allowing landlords to up rent prices that eventually makes them go homeless. At which point they’ll STILL blame women and minorities because of DEI policies

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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 years ago

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1,000,000 stranded Southwest passengers deserved better from Pete Buttigieg

The catastrophic failure of Southwest Air over Christmas 2022 was the worst single-airline aviation failure in American history, stranding over 1,000,000 passengers. But while it was exceptional, it was also foreseeable: 2022 saw Southwest and the other carriers rack up record numbers of cancellations, leaving crews and fliers stranded.

It’s not like the carriers can’t afford to improve things. After pulling in $54 billion in covid relief, the airlines are swimming in cash, showering executives with record bonuses and paying titanic dividends to shareholders. Southwest has announced a $428m dividend.

This isn’t a new problem. Trump’s Transportation Secretary Elaine Chao was a paragon of inaction and neglect, refusing even to meet with consumer advocacy groups. This is bad, because under US law, state attorneys general are not allowed to punish misbehaving airlines — that power vests solely and entirely with the Secretary of Transport.

It’s been two years since Biden appointed Pete Buttigieg to be the human race’s most powerful aviation regulator. Buttigieg started his tenure on a promising note, meeting with the same consumer groups that Chao had snubbed, but after that hopeful beginning, things ground to a halt.

As Corporate Crime Reporter details, William McGee of the American Economic Liberties Project was impressed by the Secretary: “He was intelligent, articulate, he had good questions for us, he was taking notes, he seemed concerned.” But 18 months later, McGee describes Buttigieg’s leadership as “lax.”

https://www.corporatecrimereporter.com/news/200/pete-buttigieg-and-the-southwest-airlines-meltdown/

Buttigieg likes to tout a single enforcement action as his signature achievement: fining six airlines and ordering them to issue refunds to US passengers. But only one of those airlines was a US carrier: Frontier, which only accounts for 2% of all US flights. The US monopoly carriers have gone unscathed.

The US carriers are in sore need of regulatory discipline. In 2020 alone, United racked up 10,000 consumer complaints, twice as many as any other carrier. Under Buttigieg, the DOT investigated these airlines and closed every one of these complaints without taking any against them.

This is part of a wider pattern. In Buttigieg’s 18 month tenure, not a single airline has been ordered to pay any fines as a result of cancellations. In the absence of oversight and accountability, the airlines have made a habit out of scheduling flights they know they don’t have the crew to fly (they used public covid funds to buy out senior crew contracts, retiring much of their workforce).

This gives the airlines the flexibility to offer many flights they know they can’t service, and to allocate crew to whichever runs will generate the most profit, stranding US passengers and holding onto their money for months or years before paying refunds — if they ever do.

Consumer groups weren’t alone in sounding the alarm over the deteriorating conditions in the airline sector. In 2022, dozens of state attorneys general — Democrats and Republicans — sent open letters to Buttigieg begging him to use his broad powers as Secretary of Transport to hold the airlines accountable.

What are those powers? Well, the big one is USC40 Section 41712(a), the “unfair and deceptive” authority modeled on Section 5 of the FTC Act. This authority allows the Secretary to act without further Congressional action, to order airlines to end practices that are “unfair and deceptive,” and to extract massive fines from companies that don’t comply.

As McGee told CCR, “the scheduling and canceling of flights is both unfair and deceptive.” In order to force the airlines to end this practice, Buttigieg would have to initiate an investigation into the practice. The American Economic Liberties Project called on Buttigieg to open an investigation months ago. There has not been such an investigation.

Even on refunds, Buttigieg’s much-touted signature achievement, the Secretary has left Americans in the cold. US law requires airlines to give cash refunds to passengers on cancelled flights. But to this day, passengers are sent unfair and deceptive messages by airlines offering them credit for cancellations, and fliers must fight their way through a bureaucratic quagmire to get cash refunds.

McGee and other advocates met with Buttigieg twelve times sking him to address this. When he finally took action, he ignored the domestic airlines — which racked up 5,700% more complaints in his first year on the job than in the previous year — except for tiny, largely irrelevant Frontier. If you are an American whose journey on an American airline was cancelled, there’s a 98% chance that Buttigieg let them off without a single dollar in fines.

McGee isn’t an armchair quarterback. He is an industry veteran, an FAA-licensed aircraft dispatcher: “I canceled flights. I rescheduled flights. I diverted flights. I delayed flights. I did that every day.”

Apologists for Buttigieg claim that he’s doing all he can: “Pete isn’t in charge of airline IT!” But while USC 40 doesn’t mention computer systems or staffing levels directly, it doesn’t have to: the “unfair and deceptive” standard is deliberately broad, to give regulators the powers they need to protect the American people.

In understanding whether the million fliers that Southwest stranded on the way to their Christmas vacations could have expected more from their DOT, it’s worth looking at how other regulators have used similar authority to protect the American people.

Exhibit A here has to be FTC Chair Lina Khan, whose powers under FTCA5 are nearly identical to Buttigieg’s power under 41712(a) (the DOT language was copied nearly verbatim from the FTCA). Two years ago, Khan began an in-depth investigation into the use of nonompete agreements in the US labor market.

https://www.ftc.gov/news-events/events/2020/01/non-competes-workplace-examining-antitrust-consumer-protection-issues

This investigation created an extensive evidentiary record on the ways that workers are harmed by these agreements, and collected empirical observations about whether industries really needed noncompetes to thrive (for example, noncompetes are banned in California, home to the most profitable, most knowledge-intensive businesses in the world, undermining claims that these businesses need noncompetes to survive).

Then, right as Southwest was stranding a million Americans, Khan unveiled a rulemaking to ban noncompetes for every American worker, using her Section 5 powers. Khan’s rule is retroactive, undoing every existing noncompete as well as banning them into the future.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

This is what a fully operational battle-station looks like! Khan and Buttigieg are among the most powerful people who have ever lived, with more and farther-reaching regulatory authority, more power to alter the lives of millions of people, than almost anyone who every drew breath.

And yet, when Secretary Buttigieg jawbones about the airlines, it’s all pleading, not threats. As McGee says, “If you have a Secretary of Transportation who does not punish the airlines when they act terribly, then we should not be surprised when they continue to behave terribly.”

State AGs from both parties are desperate for Buttigieg to back legislation that would return their right to punish airlines. So far, he has not voiced his support for this regulation. When the Secretary of Transport won’t act, and when he won’t support the right of other officials to act, the American traveler is truly stranded.

Image: Tomás Del Coro (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/tomasdelcoro/24575277589

Japanexperterna.se (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/japanexperterna/15251188384/

CC BY-SA 2.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

—

Tarcil (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:La_Brea_Tar_Pits_Elephant_Statues_1990_right.jpg

CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

[Image ID: The La Brea tar-pits. A Southwest jet is nose-down in the tar, next to a stranded mastodon. In the foreground are the three wise monkeys, their faces replaced with that of Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg.]

#pluralistic #inaction #regulation #swa #southwest air #corporate crime reporter #pete buttigieg #Section 41712(a)

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