#i am studying systematics

[bixels]

I'm not explaining why re-imagining characters as POC is not the same as white-washing, here of all places should fucking understand.

[supahstarrr]

i'm surprised i don't hear more people mentioning, quoting, or referring to Smith's study when talking about whitewashing vs "blackwashing" and the impact of these phenomenons—although, particularly when speaking about films. i really recommend reading Whitewashing v. Blackwashing: Structural Racism and Anti-Racist Praxis in Hollywood Cinema by Alyssa M. Smith.

Despite this study focusing on these phenomenons in the context of films and Hollywood, i'd even say that there's points written here that can easily apply to these phenomenons' manifestation in the context of art (⟵ using the less broader definition of "art" here) and the art community itself ^^

[soggypotatoes]

guys I had a dream that I was starting my second year statistics unit and I was Ecstatic, just so excited, and then I was told I was in the wrong class and I have to do the first year unit I'm doing next year

how fucking nerdy can you get

also the lecturer said there's a stats technique called oviposition 💀

[cevansbrat0007]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMr8fYuj5/

I can see so clear Bird putting Ari in the dog house again and later in the day he arrives at her home with a bag full of her favorites snacks, heat pads, painkillers and a note for his sweet wild woman

Summary: Somehow, Ari always seems to know all the right ways to take care of you...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Fluff, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Brat!Reader, References to Menstrual Cycles & PMS, Cuddles, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Part of my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

You automatically perk up from your place on the couch when you hear the slam of your front door. Ari had left the house hours ago, muttering something under his breath that you hadn’t quite been able to make out. 

“Beast?” You call when he doesn’t immediately appear. “Whatcha doin’?” 

“Is that my Bird in there?” He quickly fires back. “Is that who I’m talkin’ to?”

His unexpected dramatics immediately set your teeth on edge. Just what the hell did he mean by all that?

“Who the hell else would it be?” Your question comes out sounding more like a growl. 

Instead of answering you’re treated to the sound of footsteps as Ari finally makes his way to you. But instead of coming all the way into the room, you’re confused when he chooses to poke his head around the corner. 

“Just checking.” His wary blue eyes are sparkling with a hint of mirth. 

“Are you trying to be funny?”

“Nah, baby. Just bein’ careful.” Ari steps out hiding then, his brawny arms laden with several brown grocery bags.

“Why the hell would you have to be careful?”

“Because when I walked out the house earlier I did so under the impression that my woman had been replaced by one of those she-demons you only read about in books.” He offers you an unrepentant shrug before setting his purchases on the opposite sofa. “Aww, c’mon now. Don’t make that face."

“I’m not makin’ any kinda face, you Beast.” You huff, doing your damndest not to pout. “I just don’t know what the hell you’re goin’ on about.”

“Then how come you’re over there looking like you’ve been suckin’ on a lemon?” The handsome bastard has the nerve to smile at you as begins digging items out of one of the bags. 

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not, you –” Your petty retort is interrupted when your bounty hunter suddenly chucks an orange bag at your head. Thankfully, you manage to catch it before it makes contact with your face. “Jalapeño cheetos?”

“Yep.” He grunts, giving you a knowing look. “I also got you the regular ones too in case you decide those are suddenly too spicy for you.”

“Oh.” Is all you can muster, turning the bag over in your hands. These were your favorites whenever you allowed yourself to indulge. “Thanks.” 

“Yeah. Not done yet, baby.” 

You watch as he systematically begins pulling items out of the bags. He also makes a point of showing you each one, much to your overall chagrin. 

“Let’s see…” Ari moves the bags to the floor, which allows you to get a good, long look at all of the treats and treasures he procured while he was out. “We’ve got us another bag of Cheetos, plus a bag of white cheddar cheese popcorn. Next up, we’ve got two hefty slices of strawberry cheesecake. I got my own, so you don’t have to share,”

Smart man.

“I mean…” You quietly hedge, your teeth going to nibble at your bottom lip. “I don’t know why you felt compelled to buy all this stuff.” 

“Oh you don’t, huh?” His eyes go wide as he cocks his head to the side.

“Nope.” The word tumbles out of your mouth with a soft pop.

Instead of responding he chooses to simply ignore you. “Here we have a variety of chocolate bars – milk chocolate, milk chocolate with fuckin’ caramel, milk chocolate with some kinda weird nougaty shit, you get the idea.” He spares a glance in your direction long enough to study your face. “We’ve also got dark chocolate with both sea salt and some kind of intense orange peel somethin’. Do any of these work for you?”

“Why, yes, all of them but–”

“Moving on, I’ve got a box of cocoa, peppermint tea, and oh! Nearly forgot the fuckin’ heating pad.” Ari holds up the box so that you can see it. “If this isn’t the right one I will go back out and buy another.” 

The seriousness of his features makes it plain that he’s not kidding. He gingerly hands the box to you, giving you a moment to peruse the information included on the box.

How the hell could he have known that yours had only just gone out? Oh. Because you’d mentioned it the night before last. It always seemed to surprise you just how much this man seemed to listen to you. 

“This is...this is good.” You tell him, hugging the box to your chest. “It’s great, actually.”

“Thank Christ.” He breathes, relief evident in his tone. 

“Ari, did you do all this because I was feeling a little snippy this morning?” While his intentions were sweet, they also felt like a little over the top 

“Snippy? Is that what we’re calling it?” His tawny brows shoot up high enough to reach his hairline. “Because this morning you threatened to beat me with a sack of oranges for snoring too loud.”

Oh. Right. Oops.

“And when I made the mistake of walking on the carpet in my work boots, you literally threatened to unman me.”

“I was worried about the mud.” You mumble with a wince. 

“And the fact that you just so happened to be aggressively chopping vegetables at the time? Pure coincidence?”

“Yep.” Your voice comes out so small you almost surprise yourself.

“And then, when I tried to apologize and take ‘em off, you told me you were gonna throw me and them into the nearest lake. And then fly in a pack of gators to make sure that we were never seen or heard from again.” 

“A joke.” You try once more. “That’s all.”

“Yeah well, I’m not the type of man to make jokes about a woman’s monthly bein’ on the horizon.” Ari picks up a small box of what looks to be medication. “But even so, I also know how to count.” He adds with a shrug before taking a step towards you. “My sisters swear up and down that this Midol shit works wonders with demon feelings.”

“Thank you.” Your bottom lip begins to tremble when your man reaches out to gently cup your chin.

“Do you need anything else?”

“No.” You reassure him, your hand going to gently grip his wrist so you can stroke your thumb over his pulse “I’m sorry.”

Ari stares you at you for a beat, before finally leaning down to tenderly brush his mouth over yours. “S’alright, sweet Bird.” He repeats the action, smiling into the kiss when he feels you relax against him. “I reckon it ain’t all your fault.” 

“You’re too good to me, baby.” You try to pull him down on the couch with you, only to pout when he resists.  “C’mere…” You whine. “I wanna make it up to you.”

“Let me go put this stuff away first.” He rises to his full height before politely taking the box from your hands. “Unless you want some of it now.”

You take a minute to think. “Just some chocolate please.”

“Any preference?”

“Dealer’s choice.” 

Ari tosses you a random bar, which you eagerly accept without so much as a second look. You tear into it, barely removing the foil before taking a bite. It goes down so good you can’t help but have another.

“Now, I won’t be gone but a minute.” Just in case, he decides to leave you with the box of Midol as well. 

Meanwhile, you decide that it’s in your best interest to remain quiet. Because unbeknownst to this man, you had actually gotten your period today sometime after he’d left the house.

“And if those demon feelings start to come back, you just pop a couple of those, alright?” He’s still so incredibly serious about this that all you can do is nod.. 

“Yes, Sir.”

“Thank you.” You’re rewarded with a flash of teeth posing as a grin. “And when I get back, do you, uh…” He rolls his broad shoulders. “You think you got any room for me on that couch?”

Instead of responding, you choose to offer him a bite of your chocolate. You’re secretly more than a little giddy when he accepts. It was a sign that all was forgiven. 

“Why don’t you hurry back and find out?”

Still grinning, you watch as Ari hastily gathers up all of your goodies before taking off in the direction of the kitchen. “Go on and turn on one of those horror movies you like, little Bird. I’m gonna need you to snuggle close to make up for how you treated me today.” 

With that he’s gone, leaving you with just enough time to retrieve extra blankets and pillows from a nearby closet. Forget a heating pad. Having you man this close was practically like having a human furnace at your beck and call. 

Jesus Christ, how did you get so lucky?

“Beast?” You let your voice ring out as soon as you’ve found yourself a good movie. It’s been ages since you’ve watched Paranormal Activity, and you had it on good authority that Ari had never seen it.

“Yeah?” He bellows from the next room.

“Bring us a slice of cheesecake to share. I wanna enjoy it with you before we get too scared.”

“Whatever you want, Duchess.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he's laughing at you in the sweetest way possible.

And quite honestly, in this moment, you wouldn't have it any other way. 

END

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[i-dont-talk-for-days-on-end]

A list of Sherlock Holmes's Hyperfixations Monographs

"Yes, I have been guilty of several monographs. They are all upon technical subjects." (The Sign of Four)

Tobacco ash: Upon the Distinction between the Ashes of the Various Tobaccoes - "I have, as you know, devoted some attention to this, and written a little monograph on the ashes of 140 different varieties of pipe, cigar, and cigarette tobacco." (The Boscombe Valley Mystery) / "I have made a special study of cigar ashes—in fact, I have written a monograph upon the subject. I flatter myself that I can distinguish at a glance the ash of any known brand, either of cigar or of tobacco." (A Study in Scarlet) / "Here, for example, is one ‘Upon the Distinction between the Ashes of the Various Tobaccoes.’ In it I enumerate a hundred and forty forms of cigar-, cigarette-, and pipe-tobacco, with colored plates illustrating the difference in the ash." (The Sign of the Four)

Trailing/Tracking - "Here is my monograph upon the tracing of footsteps, with some remarks upon the uses of plaster of Paris as a preserver of impresses." (The Sign of the Four)

Hands and occupations- "Here, too, is a curious little work upon the influence of a trade upon the form of the hand, with lithotypes of the hands of slaters, sailors, corkcutters, compositors, weavers, and diamond-polishers." (The Sign of the Four)

Ciphers - "I am fairly familiar with all forms of secret writings, and am myself the author of a trifling monograph upon the subject, in which I analyze one hundred and sixty separate ciphers [...]." (The Adventure of the Dancing Men)

18th century?/historical manuscipts - "It would be a poor expert who could not give the date of a document within a decade or so. You may possibly have read my little monograph upon the subject." (The Hound of the Baskervilles)

Bees/beekeeping: Practical Handbook of Bee Culture, with Some Observations upon the Segregation of the Queen - "Alone I did it. Behold the fruit of pensive nights and laborious days when I watched the little working gangs as once I watched the criminal world of London.”

Articles:

Theory of criminology: The Book of Life - "Its somewhat ambitious title was “The Book of Life,” and it attempted to show how much an observant man might learn by an accurate and systematic examiniation of all that came his way."

To be written:

Malingering - "Malingering is a subject upon which I have sometimes thought of writing a monograph. A little occasional talk about half-crowns, oysters, or any other extraneous subject produces a pleasing effect of delirium.” (The Adventure of the Dying Detective)

Dogs - "I have serious thoughts of writing a small monograph upon the uses of dogs in the work of the detective.” (The Adventure of the Creeping Man)

Typewriters/Typewriting- "I think of writing another little monograph some of these days on the typewriter and its relation to crime." (A Case of Identity)

Please feel free to add what I missed!

[a-very-tired-jew]

Conversations with a younger colleague about I/P conflict

In my department there is a grad student who is friendly with myself and a few others of the openly nerdy ecologists. We actively talk about anime, video games, TTRPGs, etc... We've also all collaborated on research together because we generally study the same thing, and being a grad student we are also letting them helm their own research to carve their own path. The research topic that links all of us is decomposition ecology.

Meaning, we study death, how it effects the environment, and all the things having to do with it. Often we have our own terms that we define and use, but we also work within the framework of various medical and legal definitions nationally and internationally. Recently this student has been talking to me about the I/P conflict because it has dominated their social media feed. Like many young adults, this is their first I/P conflict and their first exposure to anything regarding that region. As such, they have come to me to talk about things knowing that I am Jewish. Not out of maliciousness, but because I am the only person they talk to that has any sort of connection to it. Over these past months they have repeated the "genocide/Holocaust" rhetoric that we have seen Western Activists use to make the conflict the Worst Thing Ever. Our conversation went as follows: GS: I can't believe they're committing a Holocaust on them after what they went through. Me: How is it a Holocaust? GS: They're committing a genocide against the Palestinians. Me: They're not doing either one, but let's touch upon the first thing you said. How? GS: They're killing them in large numbers! Me: Oh...oh...that's not what made the Holocaust the Holocaust, you know that right? It was years of systematic dehumanization that culminated in what we know. There were death camps, torture, experimentation, and so much more than simple "killing in large numbers". GS: Damn public school education... Me: You didn't really go over it too much did you? GS: WWII was, like, a week I want to say. Me: *sigh* yeah, not surprised at all. GS: Okay, so a genocide then? Me: GS, what do we study? GS: Decomp Me: and that involves? GS: Death Me: One avenue of which is mass casualty events which a number of our friends have published on. GS: Yeah! I read those papers, they were really good. Me: They were, but do you remember conversations we had about them and what differentiates mass casualty events from one another? GS: Cause? Me: And...? GS: Shit. Intent. Me: Exactly. Has their been an official stated intent to commit any genocide? I mean, you've got the bigots in the government like Ben Givir and the shit they say, I'll give you that. But has the official stance been genocidal? GS: No. I don't think so. Me: What has it been? GS: To get the hostages back and get rid of Hamas. Me: Uh huh, and what has been Hamas's stated intent? GS: To kill Zionists. Me: And before 2017 when they changed the wording in their charter? GS: ah fuck...it's Jews isn't it? Me: Ding ding ding. GS: So that's why no one in the group has said it's a genocide... Me: Correct. Humanitarian crisis brought about by war? Yes. Mass casualty event? Certainly. But genocide? Well, there's a reason no one in our circle has endorsed the term. And remember, we're considered experts on death. GS: I got puppeted didn't I? Me: Yep. GS: Shit. The only reason this went so well is due to our friendship and mentor/mentee dynamic. They already trust me to not lead them astray, be informed, and address the holes in their knowledge. Hell, they help me be a better scientist as well with how they bring in new and novel techniques that I didn't know. But they're still getting a lot of their info from TikTok and IG, and they've talked about a lot of BS from those two particular apps these past few years. This is just the latest (they had a TikTok induced anti-GMO trend for a while, it was bad).

[turtlesandfrogs]

Started the day by reading this article from the NY times, and I'm frankly, disturbed.

Some highlights:

"For decades, farmers across America have been encouraged by the federal government to spread municipal sewage on millions of acres of farmland as fertilizer. It was rich in nutrients, and it helped keep the sludge out of landfills."

Which I knew, and I knew that there were concerns about contaminants from like, the medications people were on. But human waste is part of the nutrient cycle, and it always made sense to me that it should be throughly composted and returned to agricultural lands, and I assumed that people in general were taking the steps necessary to make it safe.

But here's what I didn't know:

"The 1972 Clean Water Act had required industrial plants to start sending their wastewater to treatment plants instead of releasing it into rivers and streams, which was a win for the environment but also produced vast new quantities of sludge that had to go somewhere."

Which, yay, no longer polluting bodies of water, but now that means we're applying industrial waste water to agricultural lands. And have been since 1972. Which leads to this situation, among many others, I'm sure:

"The sludge that allegedly contaminated the Colemans’ farm came from the City of Fort Worth water district, which treats sewage from more than 1.2 million people, city records show. Its facility also accepts effluent from industries including aerospace, defense, oil and gas, and auto manufacturing. Synagro takes the sludge and treats it (though not for PFAS, as it’s not required by law) then distributes it as fertilizer."

So here's what some states are doing:

"In Michigan, among the first states to investigate the chemicals in sludge fertilizer, officials shut down one farm where tests found particularly high concentrations in the soil and in cattle that grazed on the land. This year, the state prohibited the property from ever again being used for agriculture. Michigan hasn’t conducted widespread testing at other farms, partly out of concern for the economic effects on its agriculture industry.

In 2022, Maine banned the use of sewage sludge on agricultural fields. It was the first state to do so and is the only state to systematically test farms for the chemicals. Investigators have found contamination on at least 68 of the more than 100 farms checked so far, with some 1,000 sites still to be tested.

“Investigating PFAS is like opening Pandora’s box,” said Nancy McBrady, deputy commissioner of Maine’s Department of Agriculture."

This is fun:

"The E.P.A. is currently studying the risks posed by PFAS in sludge fertilizer (which the industry calls biosolids) to determine if new rules are necessary.

The agency continues to promote its use on cropland, though elsewhere it has started to take action. In April, it ordered utilities to slash PFAS levels in drinking water to near zero and designated two types of the chemical as hazardous substances that must be cleaned up by polluters. The agency now says there is no safe level of PFAS for humans...

It’s difficult to know how much fertilizer sludge is used nationwide, and E.P.A. data is incomplete. The fertilizer industry says more than 2 million dry tons were used on 4.6 million acres of farmland in 2018. And it estimates that farmers have obtained permits to use sewage sludge on nearly 70 million acres, or about a fifth of all U.S. agricultural land."

There's more, but I wanted to condense it at least a little bit. I am glad we're raising awareness, and I'm glad we're starting to regular the amount in our drinking water, and I hope that we'll find a way to actually deal with PFAS. I am so frustrated that people are exposed in the first place, and in nigh inescapable ways.

Also, to all those people who were like, oh, organic isn't at all healthier for consumers? Guess what the organic standards don't allow to be applied?

[etirabys]

some years ago I bought Mortimer J Adler's "How to Read a Book" because I was bad at reading books. I read a bit, dropped off, and persisted for years in thinking that I would be better at reading if only I could summon the will to finish the book. Well I finally came back to it and it wasn't very helpful. Thank god. The tracery of neuronal connections that were devoted to feeling bad about it can be repurposed for a new fetish or something. Anyway, it seems important to record what I did get from it, because I am a bad reader and it's good to crystallize the tasks or principles that can move me forward.

the fast first pass

Adler distinguishes between "analytical reading" and "inspectional reading". Analytical reading is complete reading, thorough reading. Inspectional reading is to skim systematically, with the aim of determining what a book or passage is about and how it is structured. Reading the table of contents carefully is part of this, as is skipping to the chapters that seem most load-bearing and looking at the summary statements at the beginning or end to see what the core arguments are. Adler convinced me to always do this with nonfiction – it is good not to be surprised by the structure of something you've decided to commit hours of your life to.

[Readers who did not even read the table of contents] are thus faced with the task of achieving a superficial knowledge of the book at the same time that they are trying to understand it. That compounds the difficulty.

He's also a fan of fast first passes of a difficult book. Don't stop to ponder shit. Don't look up words. It's okay to be superficial. Race through it, and it will prepare you to read it well the second time.

The tremendous pleasure that can come from reading Shakespeare, for instance, was spoiled for generations of high school students who were forced to go through Julius Caesar, As You Like It, or Hamlet, scene by scene, looking up all the strange words in a glossary and studying all the scholarly footnotes. As a result, they never really read a Shakespearean play. By the time they reached the end, they had forgotten the beginning and lost sight of the whole. Instead of being forced to take this pedantic approach, they should have been encouraged to read the play at one sitting and discuss what they got out of that first quick reading. Only then would they have been ready to study the play carefully and closely because then they would have understood enough of it to learn more.

reading speed

The correct reading speed differs per passage even in the same book, and my problem is that I usually know what it is but go faster than it. It's a terrible habit that impedes my understanding and my enjoyment. Adler suggests using your finger across a line of type and following it with your eye. (Actually, he suggests this for the purpose of learning how to read faster – by moving your finger slightly faster than your comfortable reading speed, you will be forced to keep up. But it seems that it should work equally well for slowing down.)

ask yourself questions

To read actively in an analytical reading pass, you should ask yourself questions. (When I hired @eka-mark as tutor a few years ago and talked about how difficult I found it to learn from textbooks, they gave me the same advice – have a question in mind that you're trying to answer as you read – it'll focus your mind.) I frankly don't like Adler's questions*, so for myself I'll say: whatever questions naturally bubble up for me on the first pass, I will try to answer on the second. *what is the book about as a whole, what is being said and how, is the book true, how does it matter to you as a reader)

with fiction specifically

"Read it quickly and with total immersion, if possible in one sitting, so that the unity of the plot does not escape you."

my addition

I believe this but seem to be bad at acting on it:

I can read about 500-2000 books in the years I have remaining of life. Read Kindle samples first and give up aggressively. (If I read more than 30% of the books I sample, I'm probably doing something wrong.) Make the first pass, and don't bother doing the second if the first showed the book to be unexceptional. The complement of reading well is to choose good books to read.

[ornii]

Could you please tag me in all the parts of my kind of crazy? Cuz i found part 1 and 2 but cant find the rest. And if there is no more could you please continue it?

Yeah I still need to learn how Tagging works, so if anyone can, let me know. But to answer your question no I haven’t made a part three

Until now!

My Kind of Crazy, Part 3

Inside the run down office building, Red Hood motions for Deadshot to follow him. Katana watches them closely as Red Hood opens the door and they both step in, the room was a large office space with multiple computers running programs and systems. And FBI workers tearing and wiping the files. And the one ordering them around was Amanda Waller arguing with Flag.

“You wouldn't have made it without them.” She spoke, packing.

“We got lucky. I don't do luck. I do planning and precision.” Rick replies, and Waller shrugs it off.

“Admit it, Rick. I was right.” She spoke, and Flag wasn’t buying it. “Yeah, I told you to get on the damn truck. Why'd you stay?” He eyed Waller, who stopped packing and gave flag a harsh reality check.

“I was studying your girlfriend. She takes an average person, a yoga mom, an elderly retiree, and she turns them into a soldier who can take a headshot and still fight. It's an instant army. How'd she do it, Flag? How'd she game the system with you watching her every move?” Waller asked, it it was obvious she knew the answer already. Flag buried his pain and ignored the question.

“I'll accept the consequences.” He said

“I am your consequence.” Waller replied with stern emphasis. Just as he prepares to weasel out again, Deadshot and Red Hood approached.”You might need to be careful. They think we're rescuing Nelson Mandela.” Deadshot eyes Waller, who walks past him

“I can take care of myself. Shut it down, wipe the drives.” She gives the order to the Agents who continue to wipe their digital prints from this Operation. Deadshot leans into flags ear as he watches Waller.

“Uh, hey, man, I know you can't hear me 'cause you're trapped in your temple of soldierly self-righteousness, but a two-faced dude like you wouldn't survive a second on the street.” Deadshot points out the obvious Hypocrisy, Flag being called out for lying about this High Value Target.

“Oh, says the guy who shoots people for money.” Flag retorts, Red turns quickly to Waller at the sound of gunfire. Waller has systematically executed the workers. Red could only watch, knowing Waller or Flag could turn his brain into mush. Waller leaves, and Red Hood eyes flag, who doesn’t look very happy about what he’s just witnessed.

“That is just a mean lady.” Deadshot follows.

“Yeah. You get used to it.” Flag grumbled, Red walks past him, “I don’t think a good soldier would let innocent people die, but what do I know right?” Red and Deadshot exit the room, and the Squad see who they’ve been made to protect. Waller and Flag step out into the frying pan of sorts.

“Let's go home.” Flag ordered, it it wasn’t on a natural bass, more of a coercive tone, but it obviously wasn’t working.

“Yeah, let's go home. That sounds good. You guys wanna go home? Or you wanna go back to prison?” Boomerang said, obviously sarcastic, they all had their reasons for not going back home.

“What I'm saying is we kill the pair of 'em now before they kill us.” Boomerang said, which many of agree with, slowly surrounding them, “I got this.” Waller took this one herself, letting Katana and Flag watch, she stepped before the squad, “You all made it this far. Don't get high-spirited on me and ruin a good thing.” Waller shows the explosive device in her hand, much like the one Flag has, all set to explode just like Red Hood predicted. The Squad all share a glance, and they reluctantly escort Waller to the roof. The dark sky has hints of neon lights and flames dance in the sky. Regrouping with Flags men they watch a Helicopter fly towards the Building.

“Savior One-Zero, this is Ground Element. Savior One-Zero, how copy? Savior One-Zero, the LZ's clear.” One of Flags men tries to hail down the Chopper, but no response.

“Boss, they're not talking to me.” He spoke, and Flag quickly assessed the situation, “Our bird's been jacked. Light it up!” Flag and his men open fire on the Helicopter, its panel opens up to Joker, dressed in a suit and with an AK opening fire with manic laughter, a minigun mounted on the heli also opens fire on them, ducking behind AC generators to keep from getting torn to shreds. Red Peers over the unit and his eyes catch a glimpse of that face, the manic laughter, the pale skin. A flood of rage built into Red and he leaped over the Unit, firing his dual pistols at the helicopter. Titanium composite hollow tipped bullets, with a C4 Kicker, explosive ammunition he made himself, the shots land hard on the wall that actually begin to make a dent. They turn the Minigun to him and looks to shred him, before Red can get turned into mince meat, Diablo comes in and tackles him before another AC Unit. He saved Red, who looked at the man, he shrugged it off and kept down to avoid bullet fire, but this wasn’t a random attack it was coordinated, Harley begins to walk to the Helicopter, and Waller orders Flag to execute her, but every tap of the device leads to an error. Harley leaps to the rope and escapes, leaving Waller one less of a member, and Red, a missed opportunity. Dead soldiers litter the roof and everyone steps out of cover, Waller making a B line for Deadshot.

“Deadshot, shoot that woman right now!” She yells, and Deadshot shrugs

“She ain’t do shit to me.” He said lazily

“You're a hitman, right? I got a contract. Kill Harley Quinn. Do it for your freedom and your kid.” Waller said, which was more than enough for him.

“Now she dead.” He walked to a Unit and mounted to fire, heat her Harley dance and swing around, and takes the shot, Harley’s body goes limp, but she suddenly laughs and swings more around, Deadshot missing on purpose, he walked back to the ground.

“I missed.” He said, and Red wasn’t listening, all he felt was red, his chance to kill the Joker, gone. He walked over to the corpse of one of the soldiers, snatching a rifle from its cold dead hands and he mounts up as well, everyone watches as the helicopter takes a slight left. He took everything into consideration and fired, the bullet flew and it hit the cockpit and straight through the pilots skull. They watched the helicopter spiral and go down. Red turned to the group and dropped his gun.

“Got what I wanted… We done here?” He said, everyone was silent, showing the ruthless cold side of the Red Hood. No one knew how to take it, but it’s safe to say for the Red Hood, that felt good. Another Heli picked up Waller and they left. Flag waits as the chopper soars off into the night deploying Flares. Minutes pass and Flag calls in, and listens.

“Ops just confirmed. She's down. 1k west. Let's go get her. The mission's not over.” Flag and his men turned to the exit with the “Heroes”

“Nah. It is for me. We had a deal.” Deadshot spoke up for most of them, everyone.

“Without Waller, you got nothing.” Flag walked off, and the group reluctantly follows. Making ground back on the floor they run into a less than happy Harley Quinn, who survived somehow. She spots them and attempts to put on a happy face.

“So.. shot any good birds lately?” she asked, mixed with sarcasm and scorn.

“One… if it means anything I wasn’t aiming for you.” Red Replies.

“I could kill you..” Harley grumbled

“You’d die trying..” Red replies as they approached Wallers downed chopper. Tears the door open croc side stepped to let them see. But no Waller. Dead corpses but none hers. Red Activated his detective mode in his visor. He scans around and they’re dead.

“I don’t see any of Wallers blood, gun residue everywhere though.. she tried to fight off whoever came for her.. rains going to be a pain in the pass to pick up any blood or sweat to track.”

“What’s your point?” Deadshot asked, Red turned to him. “My Point.. is that they captured her, they didn’t want her dead.. that have some use for her. But for what, I don’t know.” He said, and spots Wallers bag and began to ruffle though it. And sees a black binder and begins to sift though it and red was silent, he turned to Deadshot and handed him the binder. “The Hell’s this?” He asked.

“Why we’re here..” he responds, Deadshot reads it and looked back up to Red, he angrily takes the binder and storms off to Flag, he hurls the binder at the wall and everyone turns to flag. Deadshot and Flag are eye to eye.

“You tell everybody everything. Or me and you gonna go right now.” He said, and flag’s face told a story, and he reluctantly explained. “Three days ago, a non-human entity appeared in the subway station, So Waller sent me and a woman with incredible abilities. Enchantress. A witch. See, nobody could get near this thing, but the witch could. Needless to say, the whole thing was a bad idea, the woman was… possessed by the Enchantress, she’s held captive by her. We were going to blast a hole in the subway under the entity and.. she tricked us with the bomb, And that's how she escaped from Waller. So now you know.” Flag explained his turmoil, to everyone who listened and everyone respectfully was sick of it. Red scoffed, “we’re sent on this death mission to fix your fuck up..” he folds his arms, and Deadshot shook his head and looked around, and saw a Bar.

“You can just kill me right now, but I'm going to have a drink.” Deadshot walked off and Harley follows.

“Hey, Deadshot, I need your help.” Flag pleads, but flint shook his head

“No, sir. You need a miracle.” Deadshot and the others head in, Red Hood was the last to leave and looks Flag up and down. “Might as well call the big man in the sky for that.” He gave one last stinger and walked into the bar, he saw the others enjoying their drinks and slumped in a seat next to Deadshot. Harley was tending and eyed the man.

“Oh, Dead Hood.” Harley still has a pretty sharp bone to pick with him.

“Not my name…” he responded and Deadshot looks around.

“Well, we almost pulled it off despite what everybody thought.”

“We weren’t picked to succeed..” Diablo chimes in, and Deadshot agrees, “Worst part of it is, they're going to blame us for the whole thing. And they can't have people knowing the truth. We're the patsies. The cover-up. Don't forget, we're the bad guys. And, uh, for about two sweet seconds, I had hope.” Deadshot flushed down his drink.

“You had hope, huh? Hope don't stop the wheel from turning, my brother.” Diablo looks at the empty shot glass before him

“You preaching?”

“It's coming back around for you. How many people you killed, man?” Diablo asks Deadshot, who admittedly probably doesn’t even know, the bodies left in his wake. “It’s Karma for us, especially for me..” he continued

“See, I was born with the Devil's gift. I kept it hidden for most of my life, but... The older I got, the stronger it got. So I started using it. For business, you know. The more power on the street I got, the more fire power I got. Like, that shit went hand in hand. You know? One was feeding the other. Ain't nobody tell me no. Except my old lady. You know, she used to pray for me. Even when I didn't want it. God didn't give me this. Why should he take it away? See, when I get mad, I lose control. You know, I just... I don't know what I do..till it's done.” Diablo made a woman of fire in his hand.. and snuffed out her flame, Red listened, memories of his own father flooding on.

“And the kids?” Boomerang asked, fearful himself.

“He killed them.” Red spoke up, and he took off his helmet to reveal his face and sighed. “I remember…” Red stopped talking and shut up, almost revealing his other identity, but Harley wasn’t up for silence.

“Own that shit. Own it! What'd you think was gonna happen? Huh?” She said to Diablo.

“Hey, Harley. Come on.”

“What, you were just... Thinking you can have a happy family and coach little leagues, and make car payments? Normal's a setting on the dryer. People like us, we don't get normal!” She yelled, and Boomerang sharply put his glass down.

“Why is it always a knife fight every single time you open your mouth? You know, outside you're amazing. But inside, you're ugly. We all are.” He said, and Red piped up. “.. So, you just.. willow in that hole?” He started and stood up, he walked over to Diablo as everyone watched. “You kill your wife and kids and you think you deserve a cell for the rest of your life? Feeling sorry for yourself? I got a temper too so I understand, but you’re still in control of your actions.” Red turned to Harley.

“You know why I shot your chopper down?” He asked, everyone really leans in now. Red shows the J scar on his cheek, “see who I got this from?” He said, and Harley began to remember. “You’re—“

“I was.. Robin. I probably helped put a few of you in prison. I went after Joker by myself one time. Didn’t think Batman understood.. and my temper got me. He.. beat me, for days, starved, tortured me, and once in a while, I saw you in the corner, laughing. And when he finished, he blew me to pieces.. I was fourteen. Lazus pit.. Now look at me. This, was my choice... Now I gotta live with it. Same way you gotta live with it.” (Y/n) walked back to his seat, and slumped down.

Everyone was silent, he felt a glass tap his finger and he looked up to Harley give what he can only assume is an apology whiskey. “Mista J is.. not the best when it comes to dealing with kids. I guess I’m not either, maybe you were right when you said that.. maybe I’m just another victim, I mean what lady watches a man beat a.. teenager.” She said to herself, Red took it and downed it effortlessly. “I’m twenty two now, not a teenager anymore.”

For a moment it seemed the two can actually form a decent but obviously volatile relationship, but then, Flag enters the Bar and slumps down next to Red.

“We don't want you here.” Harley frowns, and Flag looks at Red, “You get to the part in that binder saying I was sleeping with her?” He said, Red raises an eyebrow. “Nope, I never been with a witch before. What's it like? I mean I’ve flirted with death before but I don’t go that far.” Red shrugged and Deadshot leaned to see Flag.

“Apparently, that's why the creatures chase him all the time. 'Cause the witch is scared of him.” He chuckled, but Flag shook his head, pain in his voice.

“The only woman I ever cared about is trapped inside that monster. If I don't stop the witch, it's over. Everything is over. Everything. You're free to go.” Flag smashes the device and breaks it, and Boomerage makes a break for it. Red sighs and turns to Flag. “Your girlfriend is going to destroy the world, isn’t she?” He asked, Flag was silent and Red put the mask Back on and gripped his pistols. “Well.. fuck it.” Red stood up. “Let’s go Flag.. least you can say you died tying.” Red walked away, and everyone watched him, and Deadshot sighed and stood up and followed out, Red peeked back in.

“Yo Harley, you coming?” He asked, she shrugged and grabbed her baseball bat. “Don’t have anything else better to do.” She said and followed, everyone now filled with a bit of nepotistic energy follow, if they head into the abyss, at least they go in screaming. flag has the back of the squad, even if they’re “Criminals.” And Captian Boomerang comes back, like a, Boomerang.

Outside the large square, the squad now prep for the final assault, Red tossing a camera to a wall and using his visor to look around, “looks like there’s a woman.. and a massive guy next to her, that’s our targets?”

“Yeah. It isn’t going to be easy getting to her, I did leave a big demo charge down there in that subway. There's a flooded tunnel, leads right underneath that building. SEALs, they can recover the charge, swim in underneath that thing's feet. We get in its face and distract the hell out of that son of a bitch so the swimmers can blow the bomb. That's how we take it out.” Flag gives a solid plan. Croc pipes up

“I'm going with ya.” He spoke to the SEALS, as if they had some choice.

“We got this.” One said, and croc tore off his upper shirt and jacket. “I'm not asking, bro. I live underground. Y'all are just tourists.” Croc and the seals swim in the flooded subway and the main squad prepare for a literal suicide mission. They walked along the subway and corpses strung the pillars. Blood and black ooze follow. They reach the central station platform. Inside felt like a theatre of darkness, whatever dark magic she was conjuring.

“Hey, everyone can see all this trippy magic stuff, right?” Harley asks

“Yeah. Why?” Red replies.

“I'm off my meds.” She weakly smiled. Deadshot and Flag look to the center, of Enchantress continuing to open the

“So that's your old lady?” Deadshot nods in approval.

“Yeah.”

“Well, you need to handle this shit, all right? Get up there, smack on her ass, tell her, "Knock this shit off." Deadshot said, which flag couldn’t tell if he was being serious it not.

“I do not think that'd be wise. I'm gonna draw out the big one. My boys will detonate the bomb underneath him.” Flag gives the order but before they step out, Enchantress calls out to them.

“I've been waiting for you all night. Step out of the shadows. I won't bite. Why are you here? Because the soldier led you? And all for Waller. Why do you serve those who cage you? I am your ally. And I know what you want.” The woman calls out, and begins to show the squad their true dreams, what they truly wish for, Deadshot to rewrite that day, Harley., a family. And (Y/n), who stood across Bruce with a smile, as he’s still Robin.

“Alright Bruce.. what’s on tonight?”

“Patrol, Arkham’s never safe.” He said sternly, (Y/n) gave a smirk and nodded. He felt the suddenly jank of reality, Red saw Diablo in his face.

“It's not real. She trying to play games with you, man. - It's not real!” He yells to all of them, who slowly come down from their dream, and step out to face enchantress. She sees her tricks didn’t work, and frowns.

“The sun is setting, and the magic rises. The metahumans are a sign of change.” Enchantress saw their minds aren’t changing now, and casted a spell, stomping from the back the larger monster approached.

“Who's this?”

“It's gonna be bad!”

“We should run.”

Red Didn’t take advice well and charges in, leaping past its tendrils and firing off his rounds, it began to bend the mental skin and make the monster cry out. He leaped onto its back and slammed an explosive charge on it, he hurls red hood off of him. Deadshot takes aim and hits the explosive dead on, but no effect! Boomerang hurls his boomerangs that do not to stop it, the monster grabs the Australian by the neck and prepares to turn him as well. Kitana leaps off a counter and slices the hand off with a clean cut, only for the Mayan grow it back, bullets and explosives only infuriate it. Before Harley can get crushed by the Mayan for a bat swing, Red fires his grappling hook to her shirt and reels her to safety.

“We can get him in the corner.” Red pops off more shots, and Diablo steps up!

“I lost one family. I ain't gonna lose another one. I got this. Let me show you what I really am.” Diablo rushed forward and blast a bellow of flames at it, only to infuriate the monster who kicks him away. It awaken the true El Diablo! His body underwent a harrowing transformation into El Diablo! The meta human battles with the Mayan. Pushing him to the edge he and the Mayan are right at the corner

“Diablo, get clear! Get outta there!” Flag yells, the Meta turns to them, “Blow it!” He orders, and Red watched The Mayan and Diablo go up in smoke and rubble in the explosion. He laid for it.. he lived. And died with his choice. Red stood up and walked to the hole, but he forgot that this battle was far from over, Enchantress still had her power.

“My spell is complete. Once you and your armies are gone, my darkness will spread across this world. And it will be mine to rule.” Enchantress activated her portal, which begins to tear the world apart. And the true enchantress escapes, her body devoid of color, black, like the ooze leaking from all she touches, and she attacks them, their bullets, blades, nothing can harm her!

“You got a move here, Flag?” Red tackled flag out of the way from getting his head taken off.

“We gotta cut her heart out. While we're fighting, that thing's laying waste to the whole damn world.” Flag said, “You guys have any plans on cutting her heart out?”

“I got one..” Red said. “How long have you been thinking about it?” Harley adds in.

“Maybe five minutes..” Red begins to try something, anything, tapping into the power of the Lazuris pit and felt a heartbeat within it all. A hilt of pure red energy began to emit from his heart. He gripped the handle with both palms and pulled it from him, a red blade of energy was now his. “Huh, this might work.. I cut her chest open and you guys tear the heart!” Red gives the order and charges in, Enchantress swings and fires magic, Red put the blade up and it began to deflect the magic, he leapt forward with a slash and fought Enchantress in the arm. It cut her body made of magic. Her body couldn’t heal from it, the scar emitting a red haze. She looked up worried and Red begins to put more pressure on her, and catches her right on the chest with an upward slash, Enchantress screams in pain, and the squad see the chance, Harley, Deadshot, Kitana and Boomerag grab her arms and legs and flag comes from behind. Just for the moment Enchantress was taken aback, and Red goes in with a blade straight though her heart. Time slows down as the enchantress blinked. The light leaving her eyes in a flash the eruption of light left the station and the bleak sun shined though, and June was right before Red. Confused and why a sword was though her body Which disappeared. Flag realized that his June was back, and hugged her. I suppose it was a happy ending

“Y'all don't mind, I got me a sewer to crawl back into.” Croc turns to leave and Red sighed and turned to the front, “Yeah, and I got some business to handle back in Gotham.” Red dusts himself off

“I'm going to hotwire a car. Need a ride?” Harley offered, but before he can reply, Waller, who’s somehow still alive steps out with her explosive device.

“How are you not dead?” Deadshot said in disbelief. “We just saved the world. A "thank you" would be nice.” Harley spoke, and Waller tilts her head “Thank you.” She said sarcastically, “You're welcome.” Harley replies with a smile.

“So, we did all of this and we don't get shit?”

“Ten years off your prison sentences.”

“Nah, that's not enough. I'm seeing my daughter.” Deadshot kept his eyes locked on Waller who reluctantly agreed.

“That can be arranged. Any other requests?” “An espresso machine.” Harley said

“…BET.” croc nods, and Boomerang scoffs.

“Ten years off a triple life sentence? Darling, I'm walking out of here a free man or we're going to start having some real fun.” He approaches Waller, who coldly stepped up to Boomerang. “Why don't we have some fun?” She replies scaring the piss out of the Captian. Red shrugged, he got his revenge after all.

Back at Belle Reeve, (Y/n) sits in his cell, footsteps echo from the Door and he cracks his knuckles, ready to fight.

“Whoever it is… gonna put.. 14 in the ICU.” He said, and the voice of God, Waller spoke to him. “That won’t be needed, you’re getting released.”

“…What?” He stood up from his bed, staring at the Door expecting death, what opened was something much more than that, he could only muster one word

“…Bruce?”

@henkermen

[ms-demeanor]

it's hard to find legitimate data on risks associated with alcohol--a lot of results from religious organizations w/ vested financial interest in evangelical cult-type shit comes up when i try. i drink heavily occasionally, mostly because i just really like the experience of getting blasted with close friends once every few months--any advice on tracking down actual *reputable* data on the risks of that?

(tamping down on the urge to anonymously defend my actions in my favorite anarchism blogger's inbox but i *will* allow myself to defensively note that i never drink to the point of blacking out or puking. this isn't really relevant to the question i just have brain problems where i feel compelled to defend myself against imaginary assumptions.)

Okay i want to start this out by pointing out that I'm not particularly judgemental about drug use. Any drug use.

Basically, you do you. As long as you're not drinking and driving or otherwise doing harm (for instance, attempting to provide childcare while too intoxicated to do so safely) the only thing you have to worry about is what alcohol is doing to *you* and I was a smoker for like twenty years knowing full well how awful for me it was. If you want to drink and you know the risks, do what you want.

So, all that said, I mean this very gently (because it's clear that this is a sensitive issue for you) but it is not particularly difficult to find good data about risks associated with alcohol from sources less biased than American evangelicals.

For some research on the overall risks of alcohol consumption, here are some good, comprehensive, recent papers about the effects of alcohol on both individuals and populations.

Risk thresholds for alcohol consumption: combined analysis of individual-participant data for 599,912 current drinkers in 83 prospective studies

Population-level risks of alcohol consumption by amount, geography, age, sex, and year: a systematic analysis for the Global Burden of Disease Study 2020

Alcohol consumption and risks of more than 200 diseases in Chinese men

Getting occasionally blasted with friends is what's called "binge drinking" - which is defined as five or more drinks within two hours for men or four or more drinks in two hours for women, or reaching a BAC of .08 (the legal limit for driving in the US). This is a lot lower than most people think of when they think of "binge drinking" - that's five beers, an average bottle of wine, or two strong cocktails like a long island iced tea. Five or more drinks wouldn't put most people into blacking out or puking territory, and if you're a seasoned drinker a BAC of .08 may not feel like anything over the top or ridiculous, but it is a drinking binge nonetheless and there are specific risks associated with binge drinking. Here are some write-ups on binge drinking specifically:

Binge drinking: Burden of liver disease and beyond

Binge Drinking’s Effects on the Body

Effects of Repeated Binge Drinking on Blood Pressure Levels and Other Cardiovascular Health Metrics in Young Adults

I get the urge to feel defensive, it sounds like this is something that's concerning you and from the tone of your ask it seems like this is something that you were not aware of and has made you uneasy. (And it sounds like you're around a lot of people who ARE judgemental about alcohol consumption for reasons that have to do with them imposing their morality on you, which is a shitty position to be in)

But hey i wouldn't be a very good marginal anarchist if I wasn't about making sure that people have informed interactions with the world.

I still go out and get shitfaced every once in a while because it's fun and there are things that I can do to mitigate the risks (like making sure I'm around safe people, don't have access to a motor vehicle, and don't do it often) but I do so with the awareness that what I am doing could have some pretty bad consequences and I need to make sure to watch out for my health to keep an eye on the systems that drinking like that might impact. If you're gonna drink, you should be keeping an eye on yourself generally. If you're gonna drink heavily (even if it's only every couple of months), you have got to keep an eye on your liver, pancreas, and heart specifically.

[leiflitter]

More

Hello from Blighty thoughts about Saltburn

As a continuation from my reply to @armands-eyefuckery because BRAIN

Aight gang let's have a lil sit down because there is a big ol angle to the film that I think is getting missed by a lot of folks who aren't from the UK because it's a very uh...

British Thing.

IT IS VERY IMPORTANT THAT OLIVER IS FROM THE NORTH.

Cut because Length.

Now look. I am not going to go into Thatcher and Her Crimes, but it's worth a google. I do bring it up in You're Almost Home because...

Lots of people are saying Oliver is upper middle class, and honestly? That doesn't track for me. At all. Yes, his parents have a detached house in a nice suburb and they went on holidays, but there's a lot of Very British Context to them that I really want to point out. Also remember, it's 2006/2007. That is also important.

First of all- Oliver's parents probably never went to University.

Really listen to them. How gullible they are- they believe that Oliver can study at Oxford, and be on the rowing team, and be in plays, and be top scholar. He's always been so clever. If Oliver was anything near upper middle class, his parents would be educated professionals. Oliver probably has dockworkers not even three generations back- his dad has management vibes, but he probably worked his way up in the 70s when all you needed was a good attitude and not to be an obvious murderer.

Secondly- let's talk about the house.

As someone from Down South who has also lived Up North, Oliver's Parent's house would not have been as expensive as people think. Let's assume they bought it in the 1980s- we ALL know that house prices are through the roof NOW, but even today there is a huge gap between house prices in the south and the north. 200k down South might get you a one bedroom flat, if you're lucky. 200k in Prescot can get you a 4-bed, semi-detached HOUSE. Check rightmove.

It is also important that the house is relatively new-looking, because over here Upper Middle Class people aren't really into new build houses- if Oliver was upper middle class, he'd be living in something Victorian or Edwardian. Probably somewhere with a good link to London, especially in 2007. It also means that Oliver's parents may not have even bought it outright- my parents got on the housing ladder via a shared ownership scheme. Oliver's parents aren't rich.

Now, the holidays. Mykonos. Another fun Brit thing is the package holiday. Here's a pretty interesting article about them;

Two adults and three kids could absolutely have gone to Mykonos every year in the late 80s/90s for far less than you'd expect, especially if they paid in installments each month.

I also mentioned about Ollie being from Merseyside specifically, but again. CONTEXT. Although Oliver isn't Liverpudlian (it's important, he's from NEAR Liverpool but not Liverpool itself) the North of England as a whole has routinely been fucked over by those in power. The government AND the royals and the very wealthy. It's still ongoing today- again, another fun source.

Remember when Mr Eats-Crunchies-Sideways called him a Bootlicker? That's fucking IMPORTANT. To many folks he IS a bootlicker. He is highly unlikely to have been raised to grovel at the feet of those with hereditary titles and wealth, and honestly he doesn't. I've written before about how Oliver Denies Felix Things and how that dynamic is important. Oliver likely hasn't been raised with any real deference to The Rich (except Princess Diana).

It also effects Oliver's response to Felix, because goddamn it THATCHER again- it is HIGHLY likely that Oliver has lived through a lot of homophobia. Internalised a lot of it. Felix's parents do not give a shit, but that was not the norm. Again, tried to hit on it in YAH, because times have changed since the 90s/2000s and people change with them, but no fuckin wonder Oliver never responded to Felix chirpsing him like a maniac. He's fucking REPRESSED when he's in Oxford, pals. It also makes sense with that weird Tumblr Dom shit he pulls; he's still fuckin weird about it, he's just being In Charge so he doesn't need to be vulnerable in any way. He is only vulnerable for Felix, and even then he can't SHOW felix that, that would be gay.

Leiflitter over'n'out

[hiiragi7]

@blaugrana-blues People say this about any intersex variation. Just how "different" do we need to be in order to be "intersex enough"? Do we need to all be true hermaphrodites to "count"? Do we all need to be infertile? Where is the line to you?

Are people with CAIS and persistent mullerian ducts who can still have children no longer intersex? Are people with C-CAH who do not present with ambiguous genitals at birth no longer intersex?

Why are you so hellbent on turning intersex people into some mysterious foreign group that you can't conceive any ""normal"" person being a part of?

Aside from many intersex people not showing obvious physical signs, aside from PCOS and NCAH and various other adrenal disorders having so much symptom overlap you cannot visibly tell the difference without testing, aside from PCOS itself being widely misused currently by the medical field and constantly inappropriately diagnosed upon the first meeting with a hyperandrogenic patient without even doing any testing at all when it's meant to be a diagnosis of exclusion, aside from PCOS not always meaning "just extra hair" - Why does it hurt you for people to identify as intersex?

Why is it so much of an insult to you to be lumped in with us that you felt the need to comment this on my post?

You also do not have to identify as intersex if you do not want to, but there is absolutely no need to drag down others who do just because you felt personally attacked by a post aimed at intersex people with PCOS.

I am also going to link you three studies/reviews about PCOS and just how much overlap it has with other intersex variations so you can see how pointless it is trying to make a distinct difference between the lived experiences of those with PCOS and "The Actual Intersex People" because I am tired and I hope you will read these if your question was actually in any sort of good faith.

Relative Prevalence of Different Androgen Excess Disorders in 950 Women Referred because of Clinical Hyperandrogenism

Polycystic Ovary Syndrome and NC-CAH: Distinct Characteristics and Common Findings. A Systematic Review

Differentiating Polycystic Ovary Syndrome from Adrenal Disorders

Regardless of the cause, if you are visibly not within the "socially acceptable" sex binary, you're going to get treated like shit. There is absolutely no reason to want such drastic seperation between PCOS and the rest of the intersex community, we need to work together against oppression and discrimination, not apart.

[yanyuegege]

[INTERVIEW]

Part 1:

If everyone has a compulsory course in life, then Dong Sicheng's compulsory course must be "independence". At the age of 12, when most of his peers were still looking for directions in various interest classes, he had already resolutely bought a plane ticket to Beijing and studied at the Affiliated Middle School of Beijing Dance Academy. "It seems that I am the opposite of many people. I make my own choices for major events in life, but I will ask experienced friends or elders for small things." Dong Sicheng was a little amused, but he still firmly believed that shouldn't we follow our own feelings in major events in life?

When he was in the first year of high school, he was discovered by a Korean scout and invited to attend a summer camp in Korea for training. At that time, Dong Sicheng began to realize the systematic and professional training of Korean trainees, and the seeds of his dream were planted in his heart. After spending a few years of training at Beijing Dance Academy, he directly chose to debut in Korea and officially embarked on his journey. Many people think that the training of trainees in Korea is a hell mode. In fact, in comparison, the learning career at Beijing Dance Academy is more difficult: "You have to get up at five o'clock in the morning, and then start practicing morning exercises at six o'clock until 7:30. In the morning, there are usually professional and cultural courses, lunch at noon, and professional and cultural courses in the afternoon. At seven or eight o'clock in the evening, it is self-study, and after eight o'clock, you have to go to skill classes... Every week, you practice from Monday to noon on Saturday. Yes, there is another half-day class on Saturday morning." In Dong Sicheng's memory, the Korean training mode that makes many people "scared" is actually more relaxed. During that long period, Dong Sicheng's mind never flashed the word "give up".

"Since I was young, I have seen that all the friends around me have grown up in this model, and I have never seen anyone have an easy time. Maybe at that time I subconsciously thought that life was probably like this." He laughed and joked, "But if you let me go back to that period and walk the same path again, I don't know if I can still stick to it." It's not that Dong Sicheng has become lazy, but after experiencing the process of collecting small things to make big things, he enjoys using his mature expertise to challenge higher fortresses at the moment.

Part 2:

Accustomed to the challenges of "difficult mode" since childhood, the old saying "character determines destiny" is very true for Dong Sicheng. After becoming an artist, he feels fulfilled and comfortable with the "non-stop" life. "I feel that I am quite fulfilled, and work makes me more motivated. Even if I encounter some challenges and difficulties, I think it is a kind of growth. People are probably learning throughout their lives. For me, vacation is not the only way to rest. I can also relax at work."

This is the first time I heard someone think that work can be a "relaxing" thing. The location for this cover shoot was Sun Moon Bay in Wanning, Hainan. The last time Dong Sicheng came here was to record a variety show in Shimei Bay. He came to the surfing resort that young people are keen on twice, both for work: "Shimei Bay feels more like a vacation, for example, you can see a lot of very good hotels, and the commercialization is more obvious; Sun Moon Bay makes me feel more fireworks and more lifelike, with many people dancing and singing on the street, which feels very comfortable." Under the coconut shadows and sea breeze, his first reaction was that if he had time to take a vacation, he wanted to bring his parents here to see it: "In fact, when the last "Five Fortunes" was finished, I planned to take my family to Southeast Asia. There are many seafood food stalls there, which is very suitable for relaxation."

His last real vacation was four years ago: "I went to Hokkaido for a vacation. At least at this stage, work is probably the thing that makes me feel most at ease and happy. Whether it is the long-term filming this year or being a singer before, these are what I like to do. I think passion will not make people feel tired. If there is physical fatigue, it can be fully restored after a good night's sleep."

Dong Sicheng said that his ideal life before was to have a stable job, which might be hard work but not too much worry, and to be able to take his parents on a trip in his spare time with a stable income: "If I have to say that I have any other thoughts about my current life, it is that I really don't have much time and can't accompany my parents well. But whose life is perfect, right? I have many opportunities now to try the fields I am curious about, and I should feel satisfied."

Whenever he touched on topics like "vacation" and "relaxation" during a chat, he would reflexively mention his parents, but he hardly mentioned friendship or love. Working in a fast-paced environment, Dong Sicheng naturally left the softest part of his heart to his family. Even though he left home to study at a young age and the physical distance between him and his parents was increasing , he always missed his family in his heart. Behind his independence and stubbornness, his family affection was always warm.

Part 3:

In the first half of this year, Dong Sicheng put most of his energy on the two plays "Five Blessings" and "Midnight Return". Both plays have different meanings for Dong Sicheng: "Five Blessings" is a story full of comedy. Yang Xian changed me from an i person to an e person." He couldn't help laughing when he said this: "There is a scene where Yang Xian wants to rob a woman on the street, but he is teased by a righteous beggar and has his clothes stripped on the street. This kind of exaggerated performance is something I have never imagined before. The contrast is huge, but it gives me a different sense of accomplishment after performing it."

Dong Sicheng does not list the production scale and team quality behind a drama as the most important selection factors, but focuses more on whether an opportunity will bring him different experiences and feelings.

Another film and television work, "Midnight Return", attracted Dong Sicheng, who has left a lot of blank space in the field of film and television works, because of its subject matter. Although the entire growing period was difficult and fulfilling, Dong Sicheng, like most of his peers, also received cultural input exclusive to post-95 boys during that period: "At that time, I also loved to follow the novels of "Fighting in the Sky" and "Douluo Dalu". The heroic growth model of fighting monsters and upgrading is the complex of our generation. " In this story, he played Fu Chao, who had a lot of spells. Although he was not unfamiliar with the scenes of gods fighting in novels, he still felt a little "hesitant" when he went on stage one day: "That requires a strong sense of belief, so you need to quickly enter the role and story. After a few times, it's completely "cool". It's simply the self in another time and space that I have imagined . Until the day of the wrap-up, I was still reluctant to leave, thinking how could it be over, and I have to go back to being an "ordinary person" again, haha!"

Dong Sicheng's first film and television work was "25 Hours of Love". Although he was already a major role in his first attempt, he is still keen to find new parts of himself in other types of scripts: "I just want to challenge myself. I have never acted in a costume drama, so I am very happy to have the opportunity to act in a costume drama. I want to try what it would be like to play roles that are very different from my own personality. That feeling is to release another side of myself, a bit like liberating my nature."

In addition to demonstrating professionalism, at a time when artists' personalities are becoming more realistic and less stereotyped, variety shows are like a spiritual "connection" with fans. For many rising artists, it is even a must. Although Dong Sicheng has always mentioned that he is a standard i-person, he also agrees that people have two sides: "There may not be a personality that exists completely independently and has no opposite in a person's spirit. Every introvert has a desire to go outward, and every extrovert has moments of peace of mind." At the beginning of his involvement in variety shows, he also hesitated a little, worried that his personality might not be easy to integrate into the "quick-heat" collaboration model: "Later, I found that sincerity is a must-have in any occasion and any circle. Let others feel that you are a very real person, and you can break most of the barriers encountered in life." For example, during the recent filming at the Wanning beach, he has been communicating with the filming team: "Maybe it's because facing the sea makes people more open-minded. On the day of the filming, I told everyone a lot of my own thoughts, and then everyone tried again and again under the scorching sun. The final film has many surprises, and you can see a lot of story-telling things."

In fact, the labels of singer and dancer had already matured when Dong Sicheng was growing up, and actor was more like an unexpected surprise after working hard with the first two achievements: "It's hard for me to say, if these labels leave me with only one, what will I choose. This shouldn't be a multiple-choice question. Every identity is obtained because of love and hard work, and I will not give up any of them."

[max1461]

I have a lot of thoughts about epistemology and the nature of procedural knowledge. Studying linguistics really impresses upon you just the sheer amount of human knowledge that is procedural and implicit. Languages are these huge, ridiculously complex systems, and even when it comes to the most thoroughly documented language in human history (English), you can still make an entire career documenting as-yet-unknown minutiae of some corner of a corner of the system. It's very difficult to impress upon non-linguists just how big and ill-understood languages are.

There is no book which explains the whole of English grammar. No one on earth knows the complete rule-set of English grammar. Not even for one dialect, not even for one single speaker. No one on earth could write a comprehensive treatise on English pronunciation. We do not know how English works. We do not know how any language works.

And yet, these systems are, in their entirety, already stored in the mind of every native speaker.

When it comes to synchronic information, I literally already know everything there is to know about my dialect of English. I know the timing of every articulation, the exact rules for verb and auxiliary and quantifier placement, the phonology, semantics, syntax, the lexical variation, the registers, all of it. I can deploy it effortlessly while I am thinking about something else. I can form reams of perfectly grammatical English sentences without a second thought. I can deploy the most arcane rules of wh-movement and quantifier raising and whatever else. With no effort at all.

Tens of thousands of people having been making careers trying to document these things, not for my exact dialect but for varieties essentially the same as mine, for 60 years in earnest. And they aren't close to done. And I already know it all. And so do they! They already know it too! The hard part is accessing it, putting it down on paper. That requires experimentation, systematic empirical investigation—science.

So what this has really impressed on me is how much of human knowledge is procedural. How much of it is known only in the doing. I'd wager that's the significant majority of what we know.

This is related to two thoughts that I have.

The first is about the value of unbroken lines of cultural inheritance. With language, the difference between native speakers and second language learners is stark. I think it's safe to say, per current research, that someone who learns a language in adulthood will simply never have the same command of it as someone who learned it in childhood. There are a variety of tests which consistently distinguish native from non-native speakers. You can get very good at a language as an adult learner, good enough for basically all practical needs (except being a spy), but there's a bar your brain just cannot meet.

The unfortunate fact about language is this: if the line of native-speaker-to-child transmission is ever broken, that language is lost. You can try to revive... something, if you want. Like was done with Hebrew in Israel. But it will not be the same language. And not just in the sense that, by the passing of time, all languages inherently change. In a much stronger sense than that. No matter how big a text corpus you have, no matter how well documented the language is, there is an immense body of implicit, undocumented, procedural knowledge that dies when the last native speaker does. And you cannot ever get it back.

I think, often, about the fact that so much human knowledge is procedural, is used and understood and passed on in illegible, difficult to codify ways. I think about the effect that a rapidly changing world has on this body of knowledge. Is it going to be essential for human prosperity? Probably not. But that doesn't mean that losing it will harmless. Certainly I expect much of it to be missed.

The second thought is about an epistemic distinction that I've had in my head for a long time, a distinction I'd like to refer to as that between a science and an art.

An art is any endeavor for which there is an established methodology, an established set of procedures and rules. These rules can be explicit and codified, like the rules of a game, or implicit, like the grammar of a language. They can be absolute or they can be mere guidelines. But in essence, an art is anything you can get good at. Math is quintessentially an art. Football is an art. Ballet is an art. Painting is an art. An art is any endeavor in which procedural knowledge is acquired and channeled and refined and passed on.

Art contrasts with science. A science is any endeavor in which one is shooting blind. Science is the domain of guesswork and trial-and-error. Sciences are those domains that do not lend themself to practice, because... what would you practice at? You cannot get better at science, because science is not about skill. Science is about exploration. It necessarily involves forging your own path, working with odd and faulty tools and odd and faulty ideas, trying to get them to work. Science only exists at the frontiers; when a path is well-tread enough that a body of procedure becomes known and practiced, that path is now art and no longer science.

This distinction is not a taxonomy. Everything we do involves a little bit of art and a little bit of science. Everything involves both a refinement of known skills and an exploration of new avenues. Of course there's a little bit of science in painting, there's quite a lot of science in painting. Every modern and contemporary art museum is full of it! And there's science in math, every once in a while. And there's art in biology and chemistry. Art and science are two modes of engagement, and different endeavors demand them of you in different ways.

Perhaps science is like a glider (you know, from Conway's game of life?), traveling ever outward, and with enough passes over the same area leaving art in its wake. And I think in some sense that all real human knowledge exists as art, that all endeavors capable of producing true insight are either arts or sciences buttressed by a great many supporting arts. Although maybe I'm wrong about this.

I think history is mostly science, and in large part history as a field seems to be on quite solid epistemic footing. So I don't want to convey the idea that science is inherently dubious; clearly from the above description that can't be my position. Nor is art inherently trustworthy—for instance I think jurisprudence is primarily an art, including religious jurisprudence, which of course I don't place any stock in. But I do think I'm getting at something with the idea that there are a range of epistemic benefits to working within an art that one lacks access to in a totally unconstrained science. This is also closely related to my ideas about abstraction and concretization schemes.

Language is an art, one of the oldest arts, but modern linguistics is more or less a science. Like any good science, linguistics has certain arts unique to itself—fieldwork and the comparative method come to mind—but the most vibrant parts of the field at present are science through-and-through. It's a science whose objects of study are arts, and I think maybe that's part of why I've become so aware of this distinction. Or, language is the ur-example of an art, the art from which (if I were to conjecture wildly) I think the cognitive machinery for very many other arts has been borrowed. But I don't really know.

Anyway, those are my thoughts.

[drdemonprince]

Your blog is like a breath of fresh air. Thank you for all the wonderful thoughts and writing.

That said I actually have a question. I am pro-palestine(it feels stupid to call it that, as if it should even be a debate) and in a very left leaning friend group. But also a very white academic one. You know the type, read Marx, dream of the revolution but continue studying to end up in 9 to 5s instead of doing anything(I am guilty of it too, this isn't meant as insult just a description)

Anyways, as you can imagine they have been extremely hesitant when it comes to having any opinion on Israel or Palestine. That wouldn't be a problem in itself, I know how to start topics with them and get them thinking usually but in this case there is an additional problem. Whenever I try to broach the topic I get shutdown with "Look at all the shit that is going on here, our country is falling into fascism, I just don't have the energy to deal with this conflict. Please don't talk about it because it's triggering". And I have zero clue what to do. Forget getting them to go on protests with me, I can't even speak to them about it and feel really guilty. Its me bringing up a heavily triggering topic after all. It feels wrong to feel guilty though. I know at the end of the day it's not important if I could convince some people to give a fuck but do you have any advice? How to get over this guilt or maybe how to broach a topic with that considered?

My main problem is my fear of losing my friends because I have been ill for some time(as in physically unable to leave the house for more than a short grocery run, or my visits to the doctor, because of pain and my friends are what keep me alive) and losing their help would be not good.

My exact situation aside, do you have advice for someone to broach a topic that others describe as unpleasant/triggering without causing a huge rift in the group?

Thanks for your kind words and your question, Anon.

I think your friends suck and that you can do better than them. I think you should get out there and find yourself some Black, brown, working class anarchist and anarco-communist buds (and Marxists who show up for others in a real, observable way in their regular lives) as soon as you can.

I know that wasn't the answer you were looking for. But I have seen this kind of entirely theoretical, jaded, self-superior, passive, white well-off Marxist type a thousand times before, and I've failed to ever see them show up for other people in any kind of consistent way.

And it's not only the people systematically crushed beneath the wheel of Capital half a world away that they neglect, either. They tend to be pretty shitty friends and neighbors when it all comes down to it on the micro-level, too. Their smug over-intellectualism and dispassionate cynicism allows them to justify remaining disengaged and going along with the status quo in a way that ultimately serves capitalism very well.

There is a theoretical basis to this selfishness and disengagement, I will admit. This type of overly academic Marxist typically believes that the fall of capitalism is inevitable, that humans lack free will and only behave as befits their obvious material interests, and that there is nothing that one can do on a personal level to hasten any kind of Revolution, so there is nothing left to do but wait, and take care of oneself, and allow the future to unfold.

This is a perspective explicitly advocated for by people like the Chapo Trap House guys, and among academic white boy communist types, it is incredibly popular. I remember hearing Matt Christman saying on his vlogs that he essentially does not believe the conditions allowing capitalism to fall will happen in his lifetime, and so his only responsibility is to just take care of himself and his family and be comfortable.

Ultimately, these types wind up sounding and behaving exactly like capitalist economists who believe that everyone is rationally motivated only by increasing their personal wealth. They are disengaged from politics except insofar as they like to make snide jokes about current events for their own entertainment and enrichment, and they don't see themselves as having the capacity to exert a positive influence on the world, nor any obligation to. It's bleak shit.

At the same time, if your friends are in the circles that tend to read and listen to and promote this kind of stuff, surely they have also been exposed to popular leftist voices advocating loudly for the Palestinian cause. And yet still they have done nothing.

Hasan Piker has been vocally pro-Palestine his entire career, and his Twitch channel has been providing near constant coverage of Palestinian issues since October 7th. True Anon has had multiple episodes on the Israel Lobby, the suppression of pro-Palestinian activism and journalistic coverage, and has aired interviews with Normal Finkelstein. Palestine is the central topic of nearly every Trillbilly Worker's Party podcast for months now.

These are widely popular voices among the very types of Marxists that you say that your friends are, and many of these creators are close friends with the Chapo Trap House guys, whom your friends almost certainly are taking notes from. So it's nearly impossible to imagine that your friends have not encountered the near constant coverage of the struggle of the Palestinians that all the rest of us have. And yet still your friends do nothing. Still they do not care, and dismiss you when you share with them how despairing you feel.

Your friends have turned off an essential part of their hearts, I think. And I don't mean they lack empathy. Not having empathy is fine, I don't have it either -- but I make the conscious choice to care about the Palestinian cause and to advocate for it, because it aligns with my values. I give a fuck. My giving a fuck is conveyed through my actions, not through what I think about or how I feel.

Your friends are showing no interest in learning more about this genocide or doing anything about it. Perhaps some degree of ignorance or hesitancy could be justified early on because the Israeli apologist propaganda is so far reaching, but we're well past the point of that explaining away inaction by now. Over 100,000 people are missing and over 30,000 are known to be dead and little girls are being shot by snipers while seeking medical care while babies are left to rot in their NICU beds.

Your friends know this. Maybe not everyone in the world does, but if they're so well-read about leftist issues, your friends do. And they have chosen, for some reason, not to care. They've disconnected from the pain the Palestinian people are in, unplugged from the steady stream of upsetting information, sought comfort in a politics that says all too conveniently that nothing they do matters, and when you try to share with them how much anguish you are feeling about the mass deaths happening throughout the world, they're dismissive toward you.

Your friends suck. If acknowleding reality and confronting the horrors of a genocide is too tough and triggering for them, then a lot of horrors here at home will be too much for their fragile egos too. There are so many leftists you could be surrounding yourself with instead, I promise -- people who give back to their communities, people who are in the streets doing the tough work of feeding and housing and fighting for the release from prison of people every day, instead of using those local struggles as a shield for their inaction on a more global scale.

Fuck these people for real. This is a big glaring red flag and it will be relevant to your friendship and your life. One day many of them might see you and your problems and your human needs as too much of a distraction from their dry academic jerk-off sessions too. I've seen it a dozen times. Sorry to be so blunt. But you seem like a person who is putting their attention in all the right places and I don't want to see that compassion squandered on people who won't ever show you the same consideration. You can find people who actually walk the walk, they're everywhere.

[neuroticboyfriend]

Is it possible to work in the field of psychology (therapist, psychiatrist, social worker, etc.) while being anti-psych? /gen

I’m currently studying psychology (working on my Bachelors), hoping to be a therapist.

I just learned about anti-psych. I’m still learning about the movement, but I agree with what I know about anti-psych. Especially as someone who spent time in a mental hospital; luckily I was only there a few days, but it wasn’t a good experience at all and showed me (a teenager) the systematic abuse of institutions.

Tbh I have mixed feelings on this so I don't wanna give a solid yes or no. What I can say is that I have a human services degree and have solidly decided that I am not going into therapy. Even though I could do good there, there's things like mandatory reporting. There's the constraints of whatever clinical I work in. There's professionality norms, and things I can't do w/o getting my (currently non-existent, I only have an associates) license revoked.

Whatever good I would be able to do would be inherently limited by the unjust system, and in order to do that good work, I would have to concede to that system. I would have to keep it going and do things that go against my morals.. things that could potentially harm someone - even if only indirectly. Even with good therapists, I've experienced how the butterfly effect works to perpetuate psychiatric truana.

So I'd rather put my people skills to use doing mutual aid and peer support. I do that every day in my own recovery process, being part of the community I'm in. And to me it's a lot more rewarding to just be a layperson in addiction recovery, helping others along the way, making friends in the process... than it was doing my internship. It's more.. real, honest, vulnerable - more human.

That said, I do think having therapists who truly understand and value their patients autonomy & such is important. People are going to go to therapy, because they need it - I know I do, especially group therapy. So do with that what you will, and know there are ways to put good out there that don't require you to skirt your morals or work within the system.