#george washingon

[taraross-1787]

This Day in History: Washingon on Revolution

On this day in 1778, George Washington makes a statement that is sure to give some people heartburn these days.

He was certain that America's victory in the Revolution was due to divine intervention. Food for thought.

Dear regular readers: Full-fledged history stories return tomorrow morning.

[the-invisible-queer]

Someone start the timer now and tell me how long it takes me to write about George Washingon's teeth

[cincinnatusvirtue]

December 25th-26th: Washington crosses the Delaware and saves the American Revolution...

On this day in 1776, George Washington and the Continental Army famously cross the Delaware River and march down river to capture Trenton, New Jersey from the Hessian troops in service to Great Britain.  This victory will help keep America’s revolution ongoing, especially at a time when morale was so low.

One must remember that although the Revolutionary War had been in place since 1775, the following year and a half hadn’t gone especially well in pitched battle for the Americans.  However, by July 1776 American independence was officially declared and the spirit and genuine belief in the cause for many Americans was what spurned them on.  Also the successful eviction of British troops from Boston under General Washington’s command was bright spot in a year often marred in defeat.  This was particularly evident with the campaign to defend New York City, in which Washington and the Continental Army were overwhelmed at the Battle of Long Island and the subsequent evacuation of New York City and its occupation by the British army. 

Washington however had proved adept at logistics and skillfully evaded capture in a series of retreats after being constantly outflanked by the British.  William Howe, the overall British commander in this campaign sent forces under Lord Charles Cornwallis to pursue Washington’s army as it escaped into neighboring New Jersey. Things got so bad, that Congress evacuated Philadelphia, Pennsylvania and with winter approaching, the typical thinking was campaign season was over due to logistical issues of operating in winter time.  The British established a series of outposts in New Jersey to keep tabs on the Americans.  To complicate matters Washington due to his defeats was facing several issues keeping the army intact, morale was low since it appeared there was now little to no hope of winning and through desertion, combat and imprisonment, the numbers of effective troops also dropped.  Additionally, at year’s end, many Continental soldiers’ enlistments were ending.  Washington himself had so many doubts he summed it up as almost a matter of fact remarking to a cousin in a letter  “I think the game is pretty near up.”

This brings us to December 1776.  Washington and the Continental Army were camped opposite New Jersey in Pennsylvania, separated by the Delaware River which had not frozen over yet.  Nearby, was the small town of Trenton, New Jersey being occupied by the German auxiliary troops known as Hessians, fighting in service to the British.  Roughly 30,000 German auxiliaries would fight for the British during the war.  The reason for this was largely due to the fact that at the war’s outset, the British maintained a relatively small army and it resorted to looking for outsourced help to cover its manpower shortage on short notice. 

Germany at the time was not a single unitary state but rather a fragmented collection of duchies, fiefdoms, other princely-states and kingdoms that collectively made up the Holy Roman Empire.  Technically, the German state, the Electorate of Hanover, was ruled by the British monarch in personal union with Britain, since the Georgian Kings of England were in fact of German origin from Hanover, serving as Electors of Hanover as well.  Many German state rulers loaned or rented out their troops to other European powers at the time and were paid handsomely for it.  In this instance, the largest supplier of German auxiliary troops for the British was the Landgraviate of Hesse-Kassel with nearly half of these troops coming from that small state.  This lead to the Americans naming all German troops in British service as Hessians, a name which still resounds in American lore.  The Germans were reviled by the Americans as being virtually barbarians.  Much evidence, suggests on the contrary German troops were sometimes more courteous than their English and other British counterparts.  They were known to condemn the burning of civilian property, especially those belonging to Americans of German descent.  The British regulars also sometimes looked down upon the Germans and both British and American views of Germans often seem to come from a place of prejudice, namely for their lack of speaking English which was viewed as backward and uncultured in their estimates.  However, German troops were well known for their fighting ability and did often earn praise and renown as well.

In Trenton December 1776, roughly 1,500 Hessian troops occupied the small town.  The Germans felt secure by this time that the American threat had escaped to the west and posed no real threat and that fighting would resume either in spring or if the river froze over, they and the British could pursue then.  Washington, however decided to go bold and make use of the lull in the fighting, especially at the Christmas holiday to attack the Hessian garrison at Trenton and subsequently the British garrison at Princeton, New Jersey.  He hoped this would inspire American morale and secure New Jersey for the Americans.  Washington, had a spy in Trenton, named John Honeyman who worked as a bartender and butcher and traded with the British and Hessians and posed himself as an American Loyalist to the Crown.  He fed the Americans important info on the composition and disposition of Hessian troops.  Washington’s planned attack would take place on December 26th, 1776.  At night on Christmas day he planned a ferrying crossing of troops over the Delaware River in secrecy, some 9 mile north of Trenton.  From there his army, numbering 2,400 troops would march to Trenton and catch the Hessians by surprise.

Indeed, the key to success was the element of surprise and the Germans in many ways played right into the American’s hands by not placing at troops out for reconnaissance or setting up guards in proximity to the outskirts of town to alert the garrison of American movements.  Overall command of the Hessian garrison was in the hands of Colonel Johann Rall.  He had a lot of experience in warfare but was known to be a figure who clashed with his superiors, he also had no knowledge of English further straining his relations with upper command.  His request for reinforcements was denied, deemed unnecessary, because his superiors were convinced the Americans were of poor quality when it came to warfare.  Privately, Rall was worried by some news from American deserters and Loyalists that indicated hints of a pending American attack despite his public claims of the prospect of an attack as nonsense.  There is a legend that the Germans simply let their guard down to celebrate Christmas, including catching them in a drunken stupor and that this is how the Americans would win the day.  The truth is more complex, the final element to the American plan, besides deception, British arrogance and the German lack of resources was the weather.  Severe weather hampered any attempt to conduct patrols on the Hessians part.

From here on the night of the 25th, the Americans undertook their deception leaving some troops behind and with fires roaring to keep appearances of being confined to camp.  Meanwhile, Washington and his troops further divided under subordinates Nathanael Greene and John Sullivan made the famous crossing of the Delaware River in the middle of night.  The troops and their weapons, including artillery in harsh weather made the secret crossings by boat due north of Trenton by 9 miles.  They then marched slowly southward toward the town, while other segments broke off to partake in related but separate operations elsewhere.

The attack finally commenced on December 26th at 8AM, the first shot was a miss and alerted the Hessians of American presence.  Washington himself lead the assault on the town which largely caught the Hessians by surprise and forced them into a fighting retreat toward the south end of town.  Fighting was conducted using the houses for cover with musket and rifle volleys being fired from both sides.  Washington ordered some troops to cut off the Hessian retreat by blocking the south end of town.  The Hessians tried to retreat and some tried swimming in nearby creeks to evade capture seeing the Americans virtually surrounding them with superior numbers.  Many retreated towards the town’s center to put up some kind of a resistance there but found itself under American artillery fire from the river’s other side.  Colonel Rall ordered his men to clear several nearby American cannons to relief pressure on them, but their advance stalled in the face of American firepower.  The Americans in turn captured the Hessian three pounder cannons, killing half the Hessians manning the guns.  The Hessians were disarray and retreat but Rall managed to rally enough support for another attack on the American flank holding the high ground north of the town.  They advanced with the band playing tunes to boost morale.  The advance briefly recaptured some guns but the Americans sent a contingent to once again retake it from the Hessians, this combined with American fire from three directions and fatal wounding of Colonel Rall completely collapsed Hessian morale and they scattered.  Washington cried out “March on my brave fellows, after me!” and lead a pursuit of the enemy.  The Americans surrounded the Hessians in a nearby orchard, where they surrendered en masse.  Total casualties were light overall.  The Hessians had 22 killed, 83 wounded and 900 captured, included wounded troops, the rest escaped or went missing.  The Americans suffered 2 dead (non-combat, died due to frostbite during the night march barefoot in the snow), 5 wounded (including future US President James Monroe, who faced a serious shoulder wound).

Washington would return to Pennsylvania the same day with prisoners in tow and it the coming days would win at Assunpink Creek and Princeton against the British which galvanized American morale.  American troop numbers would rise  in 1777 and many were convinced to extend their enlistments or to re-enlist altogether.  The battle was small in scale but it had epic ramifications, namely for the American psyche, confidence in the mission of independence was almost wholly renewed, fear of the German auxiliary was reduced and proof that Americans could defeat an European army in pitched battle was indeed a surprise to the British and many Americans.  Overall, the British viewed this as a small scale battle and hardly saw it at the time as turning the war in America’s favor.  However, this attitude of underestimating the enemy would come back to haunt them, namely in the Battle of Saratoga in autumn 1777, an American victory that not only defeated the British soundly but convinced France to make alliance with America in 1778 and expanded the war worldwide putting further strain on the British war effort.  Washington’s gamble in 1776 and his crossing of the Delaware has gone down as iconic in American history, indeed it was risky but well worth it terms of the gains its success achieved, namely keeping the American spirit alive and breathing new life into it after its lowest point in the war.  Many years of warfare were ahead but Washington and his men indeed gave them a fighting chance.

[macaron-n-cheese]

I just watched the first episode of the George Washington 1980s mini-series! Here are my thoughts:

- OMG DOGSSSSSSSSSSSS

- George: *shy at party* is this ok?

Sally: No it isn't

George: *a bit of confidence and talking to Sally*

Sally: Yasss bitch, slay!

- Where were you Lawrence died?

I was in garden being sad.

"Lawrence is ded"

No

(This part was so sad ;-;-;-;-;)

- Washington 🤝 Jefferson

Having a crush on their best friend's wife (before they married their own wives)

- George: *sick*

Literally everyone: You need rest. Go to sleep.

George: N-no! *collapses*

- Omg Martha and George are so wholesome!!!

- I really like that Washington said that pigs will be fined for trespassing!

Hopefully part 2 soon :)

[hamilton-a-quotes-blog]

Washington, during “meet me inside”: you’re fired, go home

Hamilton: no, you didn’t fire me, I quit

Washington, eyerolling: if that’s what you have to tell yourself

[dvddggs]

To the Four of Us (Part Twenty Two)

premise: modern AU chronicling the squad as they make their way through college and deal with general life things. soundtrack song: Impossible Year - Panic! At The Disco full soundtrack: x (request songs and if I use it i’ll dedicate the chapter to you!) words: 2,155 (this was actually v emotionally draining to write so its a bit shorter oops) warnings: kinda strong warning for this one!! ptsd, anxiety, alcoholism, death mention (if i missed anything please let me know!!) a/n: scream at me. all chapters: x tags: @heythereitsloey @anitheunicorn @newyorkyoucanbeanew @lafbagxette @justafangirlwithanavy @iamgrayfox @ordinaryornate @schuylerjoon @angelica-peggy-eliza @trashyperson101 @crazydragon15 @but-if-you-had-to-choose @geespilots @marvelous-hamilfan @5p00kygh05t @panda-powers @and-maria @lafeyettegunsandships @schokoobananaa @allthegoodurlshavebeentaken @aphboi @hell-yes-puns-and-ships @aham-threw-his-shot-away @hesitantcat @nonstopspook @hamrevolution @writethewayout @alexander-did-you-know @allthegoodurlshavebeentaken @sun-tree @angelizaandpeggy @isis278 @idk-destiel @engulfedinstars @hamiltrashuniverse @ahrupe @just-me-an-asshole dedication: this isn’t specific but i hit 1.5k tonight so this is dedicated to all 1.5k of u that’s so amazing thank u so much 

It is dark. I am…alone? No. Not alone. Someone is with me. Someone is driving the car. I am in the backseat. Why? The streetlights illuminate the road ahead of us. Where are we going? Who is driving? Who is with me? I crane my neck, trying to see. Trying. His face hides. His? Hers? The dark face. There are no details. It is just a stretch of blackness, of emptiness. No eyes. No mouth. Something is wrong. The mouthless face turns to speak.

“John.”

One word. My name. Something is very wrong.

We are still driving. But something has changed. The faceless person is not watching the road. The hands are not on the steering wheel. We are swerving. Swerving. Speeding up.

We do not stop. We cannot stop. We are not going to stop.

I cry out. I am scared. I do not know what is happening. What is happening? Why is this happening? Why won’t it stop?

We are hurtling down the road. There is nothing to control the car. Why won’t it stop? Why won’t we stop?

I am frantic now. I try to push the faceless person. Turn around, turn around. Watch the road. Steer the car. BRAKE.

Please, for the love of god, brake.

Please. Please. Stop the car.

Am I saying this aloud? I cannot hear myself. The radio. The music is blasting. Too loud. I cannot hear.

“Turn it down,” I scream. Or maybe I whisper it. I cannot tell. I do not know.

The faceless person continues to watch me. Its head tilts side to side, studying me. Its nonexistent eyes bore into my frantic, wide ones. I am panicking. My heart is pounding.

Headlights.

There is a car coming.

I must be screaming at this point. I must be. I can feel my throat going raw. It hurts. My seatbelt is locked. We are going too fast. The tough fabric cuts into my chest. I am stuck. Trapped. Pinned to the seat.

I begin to cry. I am pleading. I am begging.

Watch the road. Steer the car. Brake. Save us.

“Put down the drink,” I hear myself say.

A violent flash of light. A horrific sound. A deafening crunch. A shattering of glass. A mess.

It is too late.

Too late.

My eyes ache. I am bathed in lights. Flashing.

Red. Blue. White. More red.

Loud squeals. Sirens.

I am laying on something hard. Cold. Wet. The road?

How did I get here?

I turn my head to the right. Beside me, the faceless person. Unmoving. Hurt.

I turn my head to the left. There, a young girl. Her eyes are closed.

People surround her. They move quickly. Scissors. Stethoscope. A look at each other. Palms on her chest. Pumping. Down, up. Down, up. Rhythm.

I breathe in. I feel fine. Why do I feel fine?  

I am standing up. No one notices me. No one acknowledges me.

No one sees me.

I am not here.

I am watching. Watching a horror movie. But it is right there. Right here. It is real. Is it real? How can it be?

“John.”

The voice again. I turn my body. The faceless person is, somehow, staring at me. Calling out to me.

Slowly I approach. I am afraid. I am shaking. I do not know what to think.

Who is this? What is this? Why am I here? Why won’t this stop?

“John.”

I try to respond. I try to yell. Who are you? Why is this happening?

“John.”

I feel myself start to cry. I fall to my knees. I do not feel anything. I am so, so scared.

“JOHN.”

Alexander shook John violently until his eyes flew open and he jumped up, wide awake. He was shaking, sweating, cold, crying. John looked around the room, dazed, while he caught his bearings. His chest rose and fell rapidly as Alexander rubbed his back.

“Holy shit,” Alexander whispered through the darkness. “Are you okay?”

John pressed his lips together and inhaled shakily. Before he could stop himself, he began to cry. The sobbing was almost hysterical.

“Shh…it’s alright. It was only a dream, baby. Only a dream…”

Alexander stroked John’s hair and whispered empty reassurances in his ear until his breathing slowed to normal and the shaking began to subside.

“What was it about?” Alexander asked after awhile.

“My—dad,” John managed to choke out. “Car crash.”

“It was just a dream,” Alexander repeated softly.

But it wasn’t. He didn’t understand. John couldn’t really blame him either—he would never expect him to understand, but still. He took another deep breath to steady his voice.

“What time is it?”

He prayed that it was late enough to justify getting up.

“It’s around three,” Alex replied gently.

Fuck.

“I don’t want to go back to sleep,” John whispered, voice wavering.

Alexander nodded and pushed the sheets back so he could sit up beside John. He pulled him into a tight hug and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Then we’ll stay up,” Alexander declared. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Slowly, John choked out what happened in his dream between the faceless man he now realized was his father, the car crash, the girl…

By the end, Alexander looked horrified.

“I’m so sorry, John,” he said. It was barely a whisper.

Alexander had no idea what to say—he had never been good with dealing with his problems and usually favoured shoving them to the side and forget about them. This, however, transcended the classification of “a problem” and jumped right into the category of “suffering to which words cannot do justice.”

He had no idea what to say. Alexander, the man of hundreds of thousands of words, had been rendered speechless by the tear-streaked, wide-eyed puppy boy who sat beside him in his bed. He was at a loss for words. John had been through so much during his life. So much suffering, so much hardship, and the car crash with his father had brought it all to a head. This was John’s breaking point. This was it.

“Can I tell you something?”

John nodded, wiping a tear off his cheek.

“When I first came here—when my dad first got me—I was a fucking mess. My mom had just died, I was sick…the doctors thought I was going to die too. And you know what? I pretended that I was fine. Every single fucking day I pretended that I was fine. John, it was exhausting. I was not fine. I was a wreck. One day, my dad came into my room—right here—and sat down on my bed and found me crying. He hugged me and you know what he told me? He told me that it’s okay to not be fine. I’ve never, ever forgotten that. You’re allowed to be a fucking mess right now, John. You have every right. This isn’t going to be easy, and there’s a lot of stuff that’s about to come your way, and everything is going to be really shitty, and it might stay that way for a long time. And you know what? I’m going to stay here by your side—I’m not going anywhere—and we’re going to keep on going until everything gets alright again, okay?”

John studied Alexander’s wide eyes. There was something new in them; he looked almost haunted. Alexander didn’t open up about his past very often—the speech shocked John into silence.

Finally, he spoke the only words he could think of.

“I’m just…so tired, Lex.”

And that was it.

John broke down in tears. They were not pretty tears—they were ugly, heavy, thick tears that splashed down his cheeks and soaked his shirt. There was nothing romantic about this kind of agonizing grief; it was suffocating. It was excruciating. John clung to Alexander while his nose ran like a tap. His entire body shook and his head pounded, entirely overcome with uncontrollable sobbing. Though it was three o’clock in the morning, he was not quiet. The crying continually omitted gut-wrenching gasps and pained groans. Once in awhile Alexander would swipe away one of John’s tears with his thumb, but each one was replaced by countless others.

They stayed like that for god-knows-how-long. Alexander holding John. John forcing his eyes to stay open so he could never again see the dream that had branded itself onto the insides of his eyelids.

“Everything hurts,” John whimpered after a short bout of silence. He had cried himself dry. There was nothing left in him—nothing.

“I know,” Alexander whispered, pushing his head softly into John’s neck.

He hated watching John in pain. He hated not being able to sugarcoat the situation. He hated holding him while he cried. He wanted it to stop.

If his life had taught him anything, though, it was that healing took time. Lots and lots of it. Even now, once in awhile Alexander found himself missing his mother, longing for her, remembering her hugs, wondering what his life could have been…

But over time, the pain had eased. The thought of his mother used to cripple Alexander into anxiety attacks, long and seemingly endless bouts of depression, and a fear of letting others love him. He was afraid of loving—afraid that anyone he loved would leave him. But now he had his John. He had his friends, and he had his father. He had found a way to live through it, to live until the next day…the next month…the next year…

And now it was John’s turn to heal. Alexander had vowed to be there for as long as it took, for as hard as it would be, through anything and everything.

“It’s going to hurt for a long time,” Alexander said softly, brushing John’s long hair to the side. “But I am promising you right now that it is going to get easier. Slowly, everything is going to get easier. You’ll see. But for now we don’t need to worry about that. For now, you need to cry.”

The sky began to lighten as a hint of the sun peeked in through Alexander’s curtains. “Do you wanna try and get back to sleep?”

John thought about it, then nodded slowly. He let Alexander lead him downward until his head hit the fluffy pillow with a soft thud. Through the darkness, he watched Alexander smile sympathetically. It was not the pity that John had so often feared he would receive regarding his father—it was loving sympathy, complete with a warm body wrapped around him, a squeeze of the hand, and a soft kiss on the cheek, which forced the last few of John’s tears out of his body.

With a deep breath, he closed his eyes. He was asleep before he could count to ten.

Alexander lay in the darkness, mind spinning. He thought about his mother, about his father, about John’s father. About the girl in the car crash…

He was wide awake.

He picked up a phone to check the time. 5:12 AM.

Alexander sighed and sat up slowly, so as not to wake John. He looked so beautiful in his sleep, so peaceful. His hair feathered around his head in a sort of curly halo, and his long, dark eyelashes fluttered as he drifted through states of consciousness. His eyes were swollen and his cheeks were still red, but at least for now he could take a break from his busy mind.

Carefully, Alexander pulled the sheets back and headed downstairs to grab a glass of water from the sink. He heard the floorboards creak a bit, but it was nothing out of the ordinary in the old house.

The air itself seemed still and slow. The world was asleep. People were out of harm’s way…until they woke up and began their days and had to face whatever horrors would be awaiting them. But, for now at least, they were safe.

He tip-toed his way back upstairs, avoiding the steps he knew would creak more than others, and climbed back into bed. Right before he closed his eyes, however, a flash of light caught his attention.

John’s phone. A picture of the two of them. His lock screen. A message.

Alexander picked it up, curious as to who would need to get in touch with him at this time. Lafayette, maybe? He was six hours ahead, after all.

A missed call. A voicemail. A text.

After thumbing in the passcode he’d easily memorized (2-5-3-9, or ALEX), he opened the messaging app.

It was John’s brother, James.

Something was making Alexander uneasy. He hesitantly tapped on the name, causing the message thread to blossom open.

When he read the missed message, his breathing hitched in his throat.

James: Dad is dead.

[macaron-n-cheese]

He is a DILF with war crimes (/hj)

Also 👀

why do you hate Washington so much? just curious

It's for most of the reasons outlined in this post.

My dislike is mostly a reaction against the hero worship of a dude who is aggressively mediocre. Not only that, but most of Washington's good deeds seem leveraged not against morality but the constant anxiety he had concerning his image.

Also you catch him in his slave-catching era and he's a lot less cool. A lot of his legislation isn't him being backed against a wall by wealthy slave owners but wanting to maintain his lifestyle.

[lyledebeast]

Why am I being recced George Washingon blogs? I don’t care about that fool.

[ao3feed-lams]

§ - Blood and Bruises - §

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/34fuF5j

by WHERESTHELAMSSAUCE

There had been a series of kidnapping across the city of New York, all ranging from 13-16. Alexander Hamilton and his friends attend a party one night, only to find Alexander has gone missing. It’s up to the younglings to find him, and hopefully, find him alive.

Words: 765, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Alexander Hamilton - Ron Chernow

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: M/M

Characters: Lafayette, John Laurens, Alexander Hamilton, Angelica Schuyler, Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, Margaret "Peggy" Schuyler, Hercules Mulligan, George King, Samuel Seabury, George Washington, Martha Washingon, agh ‘washingon’, Nearly everybody

Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens

Additional Tags: please help I cant do tags.

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/34fuF5j

[antiquityart-blog]

George Washington's Inauguration, April 30, 1789

            The first inauguration of George Washington as the first President of the United States was held on April 30, 1789 on the balcony of Federal Hall in New York City, New York. The inauguration marked the commencement of the first four-year term of George Washington as President. Chancellor of New York Robert Livingston administered the presidential oath of office. With his inauguration, the executive branch of the United States government officially began operations under the new frame of government established by the 1787 Constitution. The first term of John Adams as Vice President commenced on April 21, 1789, when he took the vice presidential oath of office.

[politicalbombshow]

Thousands of National Guard Asked to Remain in DC Until Mid-March

Thousands of National Guard Asked to Remain in DC Until Mid-March

Black Lives Matter rioted, vandalized national monuments and destroyed federal property in June 2020 during the George Floyd riots in Washingon DC. At least one historic church was set on fire and several national monuments were vandalized and damaged including the Lincoln Memorial and Vietnam Memorial. Washington DC Mayor Muriel Bowser joined the Black Lives Matter protests and condemned the…

[photoyage]

At sea with USS George Washington (CVN 73) Oct. 14, 2002 -- The show bird from the “Jolly Rogers” of Fighter Squadron One Zero Three (VF-103) flies alone over the Mediterranean Sea. The Washingon, homeported in Norfolk, Va., is participating in the NATO exercise “Destined Glory ‘02” in the Mediterranean Sea as a part of her regularly scheduled deployment. U.S. Navy photo by Capt. Dana Potts. (RELEASED)

[honted]

tried for treason for leaking evidence of george washingon horny on main

[hamilton-a-quotes-blog]

Washingdad being a dad to the smdr

Washington: don’t start opposing political parties, I mean it

-later-

Madison: I found incriminating information that we can use against Hamilton

Jefferson: ooh, we can totally use this to blackmail him >:)

Washington: guys what did I say?

Burr: I’m not a part of this I swear

[spiderman-anti]

george washingon fucking died bc his doctors were busy shanking him to make him bleed bc doctors back then™ thought u could just bleed ur illness away. they also tried putting crushed up snails or something on him, which gave him blisters, to get rid of the inflammation in his throat, which made it hard for him to breathe. one of the doctors was like "we can do surgery to clear his airway so he can fuckin breathe" but the other doctors were like "no,,,, too new, too sciencey" so he fuckin died.

Hi this is literally the most cursed thing I have ever read what does this MEAN WHY IS THIS A THING

[manda-kat]

Like, really, Tumblr needs to figure out the difference between facts and opinions. And I don't mean this in a 'facts don't care about your feelings' way, the majority of Tumblr users seem to just not understand the difference between objective and subjective statements and, for a user base that likes discourse as much as it does, that's dangerous.

So, a refresher:

Objective (fact): Anything that can be proven true or false! Example: George Washingon was the first president of the USA. Knitting is done with needles. Frogs can explode as a defence against predators. Keep in mind: Stating an untrue fact DOES NOT make it an opinion! It is simply a falsehood! Untrue things still fall into the fact category when it comes to statements.

Subjective (Opinion): Anything that cannot be proven right or wrong and depends on the speaker's own personal bias or judgement. Example: Blue is the best color. The Beatles are mediocre. Anime sucks. Keep in mind: Opinions are usually stated using words like 'Best' and 'Worst', however, the use of those words do not immedietly mean that the statement is an opinion. For example, first place is the best score in a contest. That is not an opinion, it is fact. Some things can be objectively measured as better or worse than another.

Tumblr really do be like: 'Fun fact: [opinion]' and 'Unpopular opinion, but [fact/falsehood]'