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gi-surgeon-in-delhi · 2 years ago

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Gastrointestinal Cancer Surgery in Delhi

What are Gastrointestinal(GI) Cancers?

Gastrointestinal tract pertains to the part of the body which helps in digestion, assimilation and excretion of the eaten food materials. It starts from the esophagus, goes onto stomach, small intestine, large intestine, rectum and ends at anus(the anal opening or the excretory orifice). Its approximate length is 6 meters. It also involves other accessory organs which aid in digestion like, liver, gallbladder and biliary system and pancreas.

Gastrointestinal(GI) cancer is the term given to cancer affecting any of these organs.

What are the General features of GI Cancers?

Majority of these cancers are lifestyle related. They are the result of one or more lifestyle related problems such as

Obesity Alcohol Smoking

So it implies that majority of these cancers can be prevented by adoption of healthy lifestyle.

These cancers are very much amenable to screening. Such as for colorectal cancers- Colonoscopy can be easily performed. Similarly in some countries like Japan there is screening program for esophageal and stomach cancers by the use of Upper GI Endoscopy.

Certain infections are known to cause cancers in the GI System like Hepatitis B and hepatitis C for liver cancer. These infections are treatable now and Hepatitis B infection is preventable by the use of vaccine available.

The risk of these cancers increases with age especially after 50 years of age. But recently the incidence is increasing rapidly in the younger age group. It may be lifestyle related or genetically modulated.

What are different GI Cancers?

The major types of cancers are:-

Esophageal (food pipe) Cancer Stomach Cancer Colorectal Cancers Gallbladder Cancer Pancreatic Cancer Liver Cancer

What are the symptoms of GI Cancers?

Unfortunately these cancers do not cause much symptoms early or cause symptoms which are easily ignored. The symptoms depend upon the location of the cancer. The major symptoms of GI Cancers are

Abdominal Pain is a common feature for gallbladder and pancreatic cancer. Pain can be there in colonic cancers also.

Esophageal cancers patients have difficulty in swallowing

Stomach cancer patients have symptoms of indigestion or hyepracidityor vomiting after meals.

Gallbladder cancer present with right upper abdominal pain and sometimes jaundice

Pancreatic cancers can have pain and jaundice.

Colorectal cancers present with either bleeding from anal orifice or recent onset constipation or black colored stools or sometimes even as appendicitis pain

Loss of appetite and loss of weight

How are GI Cancers Diagnosed?

The diagnosis of the disease. If your doctor suspects GI cancer depending upon your symptoms he may advise one or more of the following investigations:

Endoscopy to look for any change in the lining of the esophagus, stomach or early small intestine.

Colonoscopy to check for polyps, cancers into the large intestine

Imaging like CT scan, MRI, PET Scan depending upon the disease as prescribed by the doctor

Biopsy of the lesions seen in during endoscopy or lesions seen on imaging as the case may be

Blood Investigations involving routine blood tests and certain tumor markers like CEA, CA19-9 and others.

What is the treatment of GI Cancers?

The treatment of the GI Cancers involves surgery, chemotherapy and radiation being applied in different combinations. The treatment is dependent upon the clinical stage of the disease. If the tumor is early diagnosed surgery may be what all is needed. But in certain scenarios chemotherapy and radiation are required to be given before the surgery. Similarly chemotherapy and radiation may also be required after the surgery.

Surgery performed can be open or Laparoscopic (keyhole or Minimally Invasive). Surgery aims at complete removal of the tumor along with a margin of normal tissue and then restore the normal GI Function. For liver cancer transplantation is also possible in certain cases.

TAG- Gastrointestinal Cancer Doctor in Delhi, Gastrointestinal Cancer surgery in Delhi

#stomach cancer treatment in delhi #gi surgeon in delhi #gastrointestinal cancer surgery in delhi

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alessabriel · 3 years ago

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What could not be.

I feel like we've all been through breakups of different kinds; love, family, friendship and school, so I had to portray this in one way or another, as when the distance is so much that you assume that there is no longer any bond between you. It is painful to remember, to feel the nostalgia of old memories when seeing that person but that there is an invisible something in the middle of everything, which was not.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 📖 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━

What could not be.

The road was known, the dirt path oriented towards a simple bridge somewhere that danced between the solitude and the tide of people. A special place dictated his stunned mind, a place where there were laughter and races where he could not make out the silhouettes of people.

Takemichi knew he had a bad memory, he knew it but just looking straight ahead was slapping him across the face as something he should remember.

The first person that appeared in her mind after the time jump, contrary to what she was convinced to think, had not been Tachibana Hinata but Toshiba S / or her first friend, the first person she went to in the company of her group of friends. to go eat junk food at the nearest park and with which he had cut ties once they entered middle school, with which the distance was so much that his old group never joined roads again.

How did you look? Were you still the same smiling, kind girl with a cutting way of speaking? Did you still like technology? Were you still with your bad habit of scribbling in the margins of your notebooks and your friends? Were you still wearing the same deep purple nail polish that everyone said was black but you always claimed it was purple and that they all supported you by being silly? Did you miss the afternoons everyone spent together?

How long had they not spoken to each other?

With nostalgia running in his veins as much as the pain in his whole body, he caught the attention of his friends, even though he knew that it could only be his sentimentality speaking for him and perhaps it was only the pain born of despair for what he was not, for the lost jewel and for a lost friendship.

"S / o-san, what happened to all of us? We don't talk at all anymore" the blonde said to no one in particular without looking up from the ground, tears spilling out of sight.

The group of friends stopped in the middle of the road, a little-traveled road where no one would see them in that deplorable state and with the desire to cry out loud. It was ridiculous.

"We wouldn't go to the same schools, it's normal" Makoto blurted out without much problem but you could still see how the mere fact of your mention affected him.

"S / o-san has a great road ahead, he should go to a good school" blurted out the brown with glasses; Yamagishi.

"We just parted ways, Takemichi always happens" Akkun commented half in pain, no one could believe him when his gaze was glassy and how his hands shook as he helped Takuya walk.

"They go to a different school, we just cut communication" the light brown commented on the air; Takuya hissing as his side vibrated in pain.

The conversation died the rest of the way, no one dared to utter a word for fear of crying and not precisely because of the pain of the blows but because of the friendship that ended.

Takemichi looked down when he grabbed the other arm of his childhood friend to start walking again, unaware that there was a girl with long hair carried by the wind on the bridge.

"Is something wrong Toba-chan?" curiously questions another girl with long dark hair and taller.

You clung to the strap of your backpack tightly without losing sight of the five boys who were barely going down the path under the bridge, you knew them well and you were too desperate to know that you could do something, that you could say something but that your voice it refused to emerge, with effort and pain you looked at your partner; Midari who had a look of sincere concern staining her face.

"It's nothing Miri, I just thought I saw someone I knew is everything"

Midari did not believe a single of your words but did not say anything about it, you were her best friend and she dedicated all the unconditional love that her being possessed to you, she would never dare to hurt you and her message was received when your hand clung to her arm .

What was it that made you lose your gaze?

(♆)

The thumping sounds had been audible from where they hung out after such distressing moments with the Mobeius trap, but it was true to say that no one could ignore them since the attack was very recent. They would be foolish if they ignored it so taking courage they got up to go see what was happening, long before they were the screams became audible and they were precisely male screams.

They never expected to see that scene at the entrance of the alley, several guys lying on the ground bleeding and some others unconscious, the people who knocked them out were not visible yet. .

"How will we camouflage the blood on the uniforms? This is disgusting" commented the tallest person who emerged from the darkness of the alley taking an abandoned backpack on top of a large trash can "It's all disgusting, gangs this and gangs the other thing. Fuck is so much to ask to be able to just go to a damn karaoke today or what the fuck "

Takemichi with the little light that there was could glimpse two girls; a high and a low one that shook her pleated skirt after giving another powerful kick to one of them who was still moving, the soft whispering between his friends only let him know that they too felt known.

"The blood comes out with cold water and we can still go to karaoke, our date will not be ruined by this stupidity"

The group of friends gathered at the entrance of the fast food place, the windows allowed us to see but you could not see inside so they were safe but nothing saved them from seeing you; You were still the same girl from before with a poker face but they only remembered the 'date' thing and that made them feel bad, bad for not talking before and for not being good friends.

What news would there be in your life?

They felt lost in what could have been...

💫 I really like the group of friends of takemichi and I was inevitable not to write about them even if it was something ambiguous or not very well structured, in short idk byebye 💫

#tokyo revengers #tokrev #takemichi hanagaki #takuya yamamoto #makoto suzuki #yamagushi kazushi #atsushi sendo #tokyo revengers scenarios #tokrev scenarios #tokyo revengers writing

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cambriancrew · 4 years ago

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Regarding endogenic, nondisordered plurality and impairment (or lack thereof): a reply to a post by Just Another Syscourse Blog, who says they have me blocked but Tumblr is broken and still showing me their posts which are showing up on my dashboard because I follow the #syscourse tag.

Anyway.

The point of the distress and dysfunction criterion is so that people who are merely different don't get diagnosed as disordered. Which one of their sources explicitly says.

Which is what we've been saying for years: we nondisordered endogenics are different, not disordered.

Yes, multiplicity is not a normal response to everyday stressors. Our whole point is that what we experience is NOT a response to stressors at all.

And even if it were, that would still be being different, not disordered.

It has to also cause impairment in functioning in some way, in a persistent way over a significant period of time. We find that in almost every aspect of our life, we experience the opposite of impairment due to our plurality. Literally the only thing that causes us persistent problems instead of relieving problems, is worrying that people won't understand and will think we're dangerous or whatever. That's the same reason why people don't talk about being gay in a heteronormative homophobic area, or pagan in a Christianity dominated area, or a staunch liberal in a conservative area, or any one of the million myriad other nonstandard but nondisordered ways of being. If being gay or pagan or a liberal isn't a disorder just because other people are bigoted about those things, then neither is being multiple.

(For the record, we Willows are pan, we Crew have an eclectic assortment of beliefs, and we're as bleeding heart liberal as it gets, so we have every right to compare what it's like to be those things in areas where those things aren't broadly accepted by people, to what it's like being multiple in a society where it's not broadly accepted.)

Sure it's not all cake and rainbows. Sure we have our minor issues, same as any other group of people. But if a family isn't dysfunctional just because they don't all always see eye to eye, just because they sometimes get on each other's nerves, just because sometimes they're human and make mistakes and have to accept the interpersonal consequences of that and work to make things right? Same with plurals. We Crew are not dysfunctional, we're just normal people working together as a unit, easing the load and helping each other out and making life a little easier for each other and for the people we care about and interact with. And often we disagree about minor things that don't really matter, rarely we disagree about things that really do and we work together to compromise and do what's best for all of us, occasionally we get on each other's nerves and have to give each other space as best as we can, occasionally we mess up and have to take responsibility and make things right. If a singlet can do those same things with a family or other social group and not be disordered, then so can a multiple system.

You don't have to be perfect or normal to not be disordered.

Again, I like to compare it to our synesthesia. Yeah, because of our ticker tape synesthesia, we sometimes struggle to understand what people say because we'll hear it wrong the first time and those wrong words will literally overwrite what they're actually saying. With our mirror touch synesthesia, we can't watch brutal action movies and even slapstick comedies are often difficult to watch. We had some additional minor issues with helping with wound care in our medical jobs, because we'd feel on ourselves the wounds we'd see. But we are EXCELLENT spellers thanks to the ticker tape synesthesia, we're extra empathetic due to the mirror touch synesthesia, and by and large they don't negatively affect us.

Same with our plurality. By a very large margin, it makes our life so much better. Which is the opposite of distress and dysfunction, and therefore we're just different, not disordered, thank you very much.

#syscourse

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0junemeatcleaver0 · 1 year ago

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Transcript: "[...] the 30 year old seething white woman on Tiktok that's really upset about trans people, I just can't help but wonder what's really going on inside their head to make them feel so angry about something that supposedly doesn't really affect them in the first place."

Stitch: "Okay, so I think I might actually finally have an answer for this. Oh boy, apparently today is the day Olly confesses all his sins on TikTok. Because I found myself falling into a very similar type of prejudice to the one I see a lot of TERFs having.

And it's something I like to call "survivors prejudice". And it's when a group of historically oppressed people ends up with a prejudice that ends up effecting people who aren't actively trying to marginalize or oppress them.

And, uh, I have a confession to make. I have had a pretty severe prejudice against cis white women for a while now. And it was a prejudice I didn't even realize I had. Until it started effecting my relationship.

Because there would be these moments in my relationship with Heather where we would be having some sort of disagreement, some sort of argument, and she would start crying. And once she started crying, I was physically incapable of finishing that argument. Because it made me so damn angry that she was crying. Because throughout my life, when a white woman has cried at me, it meant she was trying to manipulate me. Or manipulate people around me. And so I would shut down.

And Heather came to me and was like, "Why do you not comfort me when we're in argument? Because I comfort you when we're in an argument. It makes me feel like you don't trust me." And she's like, "It feel misogynistic."

And it was. See that fear that I had--this fear that I had surrounding cis white women, and especially them crying at me--it had started bleeding over into situations where I didn't mean for it to. What had started as a defense mechanism had become a really maladaptive coping skill. And when I talked to my therapist about it, she said our brains, when they're traumatized, they don't understand nuance anymore. And they try to find any shred of proof that will validate their world view.

My brain now automatically reads a white woman crying in my vicinity as a direct threat. Because it has been. And when Heather cries at me, she ceases to be Heather. She becomes my mom. She becomes my bullies in high school. She becomes my old boss. She becomes everyone who has ever used their tears to manipulate or control me. Or threaten me.

And that was something I had to check within myself. Because while it's not my fault that my brain got all fuck-y, it is now my responsibility. And it's not fair, but it's just kinda how it is.

I was not allowing my partner to have a full range of emotions because I was caught up in my bullshit.

And I think a very similar thing is happening with TERFS. At least some of them. I think some of them are just Nazis. Again, those traumatized brains, they have no nuance. So I think a lot of these women are like, "Man = traumatizing, man = scary. Penis = man. Penis = threat to my safety."

And the thing is, cis white men who are actually threatening these women, well, they're afraid of them. They're never going to stand up to them. But trans women? They feel like they can have control over trans women.

And just like when Heather and I were fighting and she would cry, she became like, this amalgamation, Frankenstein's monster of every woman whose ever cried at me to manipulate me.

I think when TERFs see a trans woman or hear about a trans woman, that trans woman becomes an amalgamation of every man whose ever hurt them. And while that trauma is not their fault, it is now their responsibility. It is something they need to be working out in therapy. Because they're making it all of our problem. And when you know better, you should do better. When you catch these things in yourself, you should try to undo them. I've had long talks with my therapist about this, I've had long talks with Heather about this, and it's something that I have to work through. And these TERFs need to work through that feeling as well. Because they're letting their trauma spill out onto people who don't deserve it. And that's wrong.

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wingsofhcpe · 3 years ago

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whumptober day 3- "who did this to you"

fandom: shadow & bone

pairing: fivan [ivan x fedyor kaminsky]

rating: T+

additional warnings: injury, discrimination against Grisha

you can also read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34208404

[tagging @camilleisback upon request <3]

Fedyor had hoped he could make it to his and Ivan’s shared chambers without making too much of a fuss. It was an hour past midnight, after all- by all accounts, Ivan should be asleep. Then again, Fedyor wasn’t known for being late, and although Ivan knew he’d been assigned some errands at the Grand Palace that evening, he couldn’t have possibly thought Fedyor’s duties would last so late into the night. So there was little chance that Ivan would not notice him returning to begin with. As for what Ivan’s reaction would be when he saw the state his partner was currently in, well… That was going to be a little harder to hide.

He groaned a little, shifting his injured arm closer to his side, then wincing as it pressed against the already-forming bruises there. Great, there was no way Ivan wasn’t going to notice this, even if he hadn’t been limping from one side as well.

Fedyor let out a small sigh of relief when he finally stopped outside the polished mahogany door to their rooms. He took a deep breath -and regretted it a moment later as the movement served to aggravate the pain at his ribs and chest- and clumsily shouldered his way through the door.

The bedroom was lit only by a candle on Ivan’s nightstand, but the flickering golden glow was enough for Fedyor to detect his partner sitting up on their bed, heartbeat already spiking with frustration and worry.

“Where were you?!” Ivan asked, all but throwing himself out of the bed and stalking up to Fedyor, who only gave him a sheepish smile after carefully closing the door behind him.

“I, ah, something came up.” There was no point in trying to hide his injuries from Ivan, but he could at least gain some time before he’d have to explain them. Although it seemed like there wasn’t much point in trying to do even that; Ivan’s eyes widened, picking up on Fedyor’s erratic, pained heartbeat. Even if he hadn’t been a Heartrender, the dark red and purple bruises on the side of Fedyor’s face would have been a dead giveaway without the need of more light than what the candle provided.

“You’re hurt!” Ivan all but exclaimed, anger and concern writing themselves all over his unshaven face. He lifted a hand and lay it over Fedyor’s good arm, using his powers to examine the extent of his lover’s injuries. As soon as he became aware of it, he let out a small gasp.

“Fedyor- how?”

“It’s nothing, really. I just… need to lie down.” Fedyor murmured, blinking sudden stars away from his field of vision. Now that he was home safe, he abruptly realised how hard it really was to keep himself standing. He stumbled, and Ivan caught him and helped him stay upright.

“Fedya.” Ivan repeated his name, although this time his voice was gentle. “Tell me what happened. Who did this to you, my love?”

He led them both towards the bed, and Fedyor groaned quietly as Ivan helped him sit on it. Saints, everything hurt. “I, uh, I run into some young otkazat’sya soldiers in the Grand Palace. They were… quite inebriated, and I suppose the sight of a high-ranking Grisha at their midst wasn’t welcome at all. Especially after the devastating losses their side suffered on the Shu-Han front last week.”

“Did they dare raise a hand against you?” Ivan’s tone was clipped, and Fedyor could feel the fury that surged through him at the realisation. He winced.

“Ivan, it’s no big deal. They’re just children. They’re scared, really. I was just a scapegoat they could let their fear out on.”

“You’re not a punching bag! So they did beat you up? Unprovoked?” Ivan had leaned closer, eyes examining the bruises on Fedyor’s face. His thumb gingerly brushed over a cut below the latter’s eye. Fedyor let out a small huff.

“Well… yeah, sort of.” He shrugged, then immediately regretted it and groaned. “Ow. I tried to ignore them and just walk away but, well… one of them just grabbed my arm, turned me around and straight up punched me. The rest happened too fast.”

Ivan’s brow furrowed further. “You didn’t fight back? You could have used your powers on them.”

“You know that’s not me. And anyway, even if I wanted to use my powers, I would only be proving their point.” Fedyor said defeatedly. “I tried to fight them hand to hand, but it was seven of them and one of me. I did pretty well though, all things considered. I think one of them may find it particularly hard to produce an offspring if he so desires.”

Ivan’s expression finally relaxed just a margin, and a small smirk played at his thin lips.

“That’s my Fedya.” He murmured proudly, bending in and pressing a chaste kiss on Fedyor’s lips. There was dried blood where a well-placed punch had split the skin, and it stung, but Fedyor didn’t mind. He kissed back slowly, enjoying the comfort Ivan’s presence brought him. He had been scared, even though he would never admit it- he hadn’t known how far the First Army soldiers had been willing to take it, and while it was rare, it wasn’t unheard of for a Grisha to be killed by an otkazat’sya in such incidents (although to be perfectly fair, the opposite was a much more frequent occurrence). But now he was home, safe, sitting next to Ivan, his Vanya. It would be alright.

Ivan drew back a few moments later, but his eyes lingered worriedly on Fedyor. “We should get you to a Healer.”

“No!” Fedyor had to restrain himself from shouting, his eyes widening with worry. “Listen, Vanya- I’ll have to give an explanation of how I ended up like that if we go. And, well, I’ll have to give the General a list of names or rank numbers or just a description. You know what they do to otkazat’sya soldiers that as much as stare at one of us funny.”

“I damn well know, but it’s what they deserve.” Ivan’s voice was harsh. “Fedya, they could have killed you. I’m sure they would have, if they could’ve gotten away with it. Why are you protecting them?”

“Because…” Fedyor looked down at his hands. “Because they’re children. They were, what, sixteen? I don’t want one mistake to ruin their lives, Ivan.”

“It would have been a mistake if they cussed or spit at you.” Ivan snapped angrily. “But they beat you black and blue. As a group nonetheless. This isn’t a mistake- it’s prejudice. It’s hatred. We can’t allow them to get away with this kind of behaviour against our people.”

“I know, I know. But… I still think they should be given the chance to learn. To do better. To become better and unlearn their hate, rather than just die for something that has probably been drilled into them by people older and stronger than them.” Fedyor said quietly. “You know… you were raised to hate the Grisha, too. You would have been a druskelle, had you not discovered your gift early enough. And when you first came here, you despised us, and you despised yourself for what you were. But you unlearned it. You realised everything you’ve been taught was wrong. Shouldn’t they be given the same chance?”

“That was different.” Ivan hissed, but his voice didn’t hold the same amount of conviction as it did earlier. “I am Grisha. I knew I was, when I unlearned this mentality. I had to, because the world would hate me whether I accepted myself or not.”

“You don’t know they won’t be facing similar issues in the future.” Fedyor countered fiercely. “Maybe one of their younger siblings will be revealed to have a gift. Or maybe one of them has went untested and they will discover they themselves are Grisha. Anyway, I’ll speak to their superiors privately come morning. I don’t want this to spread to more people on either side. I’m not excusing them and I’m not protecting them, Ivan, I’m protecting all of us, and all of theirs. There are many soldiers in the First Army that accept us and view us as equals, as human beings. You know they’ll be in danger, should word of conflict spread among the Grisha. They’ll want payback, and you can’t guarantee that their victims will be the ones responsible for what happened to me. Besides, if this escalates, more Grisha will also be endangered.”

Fedyor paused to catch his breath and steady his hands, that had began to tremble slightly. It wasn’t as if he weren’t angry or scared out of his wits- he was. But he knew all too well, that violence only bred more violence. It would benefit neither the Grisha nor the otkazat’sya, if each side’s soldiers suddenly turned on each other and began to tear at each other’s throats like rabid dogs.

Ivan must have finally understood, too, because his grip on Fedyor’s wrist relaxed, and his shoulders slumped. He let out a frustrated growl.

“Fine. I suppose you have a point.” He relented, but his features were still pinched with worry. “But, anyway. Someone still has to patch you up.”

Fedyor allowed himself a small, relieved sigh. “Well, that’s why I have you.”

Ivan snorted out a little laugh. “You’re incorrigible. Come, let’s go to the bathroom. I don’t want to make a mess of the bed and then have to clean that up, too. If that’s alright with you, I would prefer to get some sleep tonight.”

One of the advantages to being two of General Kirigan’s most favoured soldiers, was that their living quarters were a little more spacy than the other soldiers’. Unlike most of the other Grisha, they didn’t need to share the banya with everyone else; they had running water available in their room, and could clean up themselves there if they preferred to have some privacy. It was a useful thing under many different situations -such as uninterrupted moments of affection when they washed after a particularly dangerous mission- and Fedyor guessed that wanting to clean and patch each other’s wounds up without alerting anyone else, was no exception.

“Here.” Ivan led him to a stool next to the bathtub, then helped him sit. Fedyor bit his already-bleeding lip to hold back a pained whimper as he sat, and Ivan’s hand immediately squeezed his own in a silent gesture of comfort. Fedyor squeezed back feebly, then let Ivan pull away as the latter rummaged around the small room for various medical supplies; clear strips of cloth, a bottle of disinfectant, bandages and a healing salve provided by a Fabrikator friend. He set all of it down on the floor before turning the water on. He waited until it had become sufficiently warm and then soaked a piece of cloth in it, and turned to face Fedyor.

“Take off your kefta, yes?” Ivan said firmly but without the usual bite to his commanding tone. Fedyor swallowed and nodded, shrugging awkwardly and trying to take the aforementioned piece of clothing off without jostling his injured arm too much. In the end he failed, and let out a small cry as he tried to stretch his arm to the side and pull it out of the sleeve. Ivan was immediately on his feet, having temporarily discarded the washcloth by the tub.

“Let me help.” He murmured in a low, comforting tone, his hands resting on Fedyor��s shoulders. Fedyor took a deep, steadying breath and yielded to Ivan’s ministrations; he knew that if he made any further attempts to remove his clothes by himself, it would only be a waste of time.

Once the kefta, undershirt and pants were out of the way, Ivan’s eyes darkened with worry. Fedyor supposed he couldn’t blame him this time- his entire left side, his back and his chest were badly bruised, and his right arm was bent at a strange angle that didn’t look at all natural. Less extensive bruising blossomed down his shoulders and arms, even his legs, especially over and around his right knee. Ivan clicked his tongue.

“I don’t care how much of a pacifist you want to be about this, Fedya. I’m going to find the bastards that did this to you and make them regret the day they slid out of their mother’s cu-“

“Alright, alright.” Fedyor waved his good hand placatingly. “I truly appreciate the anger on my behalf, Vanya. But for now, let’s just get done with it. You’re not the only one who can’t wait to get to bed for the night.”

Ivan growled under his breath, clearly not giving up on his aspirations of revenge, and Fedyor decided that maybe that wasn’t so bad. Ivan could teach a lesson to the perpetrators without the incident spreading further behind the lines of Grisha and otkazat’sya alive. It wasn’t the best possible solution, but Fedyor had to admit to himself that he wouldn’t mind watching if Ivan decided to make true on his word. He disliked answering violence with violence (barring extreme cases, such as facing a group of druskelle), but he was only human, and most humans have a petty streak to them. He was no exception.

Still, he decided to worry about it in the morning. For the moment, he allowed himself to relax under Ivan’s care, as the latter gently wiped the blood off his nose and lips, and dabbed at the cut under his eye. Fedyor caught Ivan’s eyes and smiled thankfully, which earned him a tender look and another squeeze of the hand.

“Let me see your arm?” Ivan asked after a few minutes, during which he had applied some of the healing salve across the worst of Fedyor’s bruises. Fedyor had been unable to restrain a deep groan of relief as Ivan’s fingers had gently massaged the salve onto his injuries; the discomfort receded almost immediately, the herbs contained into the salve having a cooling effect that soothed the throbbing pain. It wasn’t completely gone, but he already felt much better, and was able to stretch out his arm for Ivan to examine.

“Ow!” Fedyor yelped the following instant, glaring at Ivan as the other Heartrender’s fingers prodded at the swollen area around his elbow. “That hurt!”

“That’s what worries me.” Ivan grunted, displeasure evident in his voice. “There’s a fracture, I think. It’s not too bad, so we don’t need a Healer. I’ll bandage it, but you’ll have to use a sling for a while, and it’s going to keep hurting for at least a week.”

“It’s okay.” Fedyor sighed tiredly. At that point he didn’t care- he only wanted this to be done so they could both go to bed. “I’m sure we have painkillers somewhere around here. I’ll take some and sleep it off.”

Ivan raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to sleep for a week?”

“You know I’m more than capable.”

Ivan cleared his throat, but Fedyor knew he was trying to hide a laugh. He smiled, too. For all that had happened that night, he didn’t feel too horrible- not when Ivan was next to him. He just felt exhausted and a little crestfallen. But that was life, and life was usually tough. He had learned that lesson early enough. All he could do was shoulder it, smile and press on. He was good at it, too. He had learned how to be.

Ivan finished up a few minutes later, after taking a quick look at Fedyor’s knee. The swelling and bruising were bad, but he could detect no fractures, so he just talked Fedyor out of walking for a few days. Which, Fedyor suspected, wasn’t going to be a problem. He didn’t plan on leaving their bed, not unless Kirigan came and dragged him out by his ear.

“You deserve a few days off.” Ivan agreed when Fedyor voiced that thought. “But the General is going to ask questions. I thought you didn’t want him to know what happened.”

“I don’t.” Fedyor admitted as Ivan helped him to bed. He lay down with a groan and shuffled around, trying to find a comfortable position, where his arm and side wouldn’t hurt quite so bad. He’d already gulped down half a bottle’s worth of painkilling herbal pills, but it would be a while until they kicked in. “Just tell him I’m sick. I can pretend if I need to.”

Ivan rolled his eyes as he blew out the candle, and slipped under the covers next to Fedyor. “I know you can. You used to do it all the time to get out of training with Baghra, when we were young.”

Fedyor flashed him a shadow of his usual cheeky grin. “I was quite good at it.”

He shifted again, until he was laying flush against Ivan’s side, his aching arm stretched across his lover’s broad chest. Ivan hummed softly and pressed a tender kiss on Fedyor’s temple.

“Sleep.” He said. “Everything else can wait until tomorrow.”

Tomorrow didn’t sound very far off, all things considered. It had already been late when Fedyor had first stumbled in the room, and with all the talking and the time Ivan spent treating his injuries, another two hours had gone by. Under normal circumstances, they would be waking up in three more hours, but Fedyor trusted Ivan to let him sleep in this once. So he forced all miserable thoughts out of his mind and quelled the fear that had caught fire inside of him from the moment he had first encountered the otkazat’sya in the Grand Palace. He was home now, behind high walls, nestled within his husband’s arms. He was safe. They both were. They’d always be safe, so long as they had each other.

So Fedyor told himself that everything was alright. That he wasn’t scared out of his wits, and that he wasn’t in pain. He closed his eyes and let sleep overtake him, while he clung to Ivan’s steady, familiar, beloved heartbeat as if it was the gentlest of lullabies.

#my writing #whumptober 2021 #whumptober #fivan #whumptober masterlist #fedyor kaminsky #ivan no last name #fedyor x ivan #shadow & bone

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heroofspiritsisthebestlink · 4 years ago

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Why i like Hinamiki

Hinamiki is by a wide margin my favorite ship in the danganronpa series. That comes as no surprise to anyone who knows me closely. It’s practically what i’ve shaped my identity in this fanbase and DR related friend groups around. Unabated gushing about the things I like and love is practically my modus operandi. Shipping especially is something I’ve always loved doing. It comes naturally to me, for one reason or another. I see characters I like acting cute together, and my brain releases the good chemicals and says “That’s good, give me that. More.” It’s even why I started writing. I wanted what games didn’t give me, which was more, or in some cases, anything at all. Danganronpa 2 gave me Hajime and Mikan, two characters that, admittedly, have limited interactions comparably. Hajime speaks more often with more vocal characters, like Kazuichi, Fuyuhiko, the ever looming Nagito, and, of course, Chiaki, while Mikan’s interactions are usually limited to Hiyoko’s awful treatment and whoever else is around during it. Thankfully, the game has supplementary content in the form of Free Time Events, casual pieces of dialogue that gives you extra insight to chosen characters. However, this benefit is far from a unique attribute to the pair.

In that regard, protagonist ships could be seen as “easy.” You could make the argument that the FTEs gives equal leverage to all protagonist ships across all games, regardless of what character it is. Everyone is on equal footing, so the relationships that develop between the protagonist and the character feels less genuine, and more-so tailored after the player’s personal preferences, made more apparent by FTEs disappointingly not making an impact on the static story. With all that being said, what the FTEs does provide is an insight to character relation. How the protagonist and the other character talk, relate, interact, and perhaps most importantly, how they react.

Hence we arrive at Hajime and Mikan.

I have a huge appreciation for Hajime and Mikan's FTEs, because I honestly think it's where Mikan is handled best. It allows the game to focus entirely on her, which gives Mikan enough room to properly convey the nuances of her character. How an incredibly troubled past has left her deeply afraid of abandonment, hyper-observant, socially stunted, pessimistic and internally vitriolic, all caught up in a downwards spiral that gets worse when one problem bleeds into the next, with no band-aid solution. And when you’re spiraling out of control, it’s always nice to have someone to take a hold of you and pull you down to earth again.

Not only does Hajime actually hear her out, but he's able to make her calm down and have a regular conversation without enabling her worst attributes. And I think this is especially important, because there's rarely another instance where that happens. Mikan is so used to going on autopilot and be willing to give away everything she has, that she's actually taken aback when Hajime tells her she doesn't need to do any of that to make him talk with her, because he realizes how harmful it is of her to be like that, even if he doesn’t understands the depths of her scars, because he doesn’t need to. Him giving her genuine attention, and not expecting her to show off her bra, do a weird trick or tell Cool Nurse Fact #2364, is a completely new experience to her, because that’s usually how she’s survived in her shitty life.

And because of that, she actually feels comfortable opening up about her inner pain to him. She, at least partially, confides in him with what she's been through when telling others would probably drive people away. She employs a false sense of physical vulnerability so much to other people to keep them interested in her that it's a completely rare thing for her to open up and be genuinely emotionally vulnerable with him. It's a bit of a gamble to her when she's usually 200% deadset on not doing or saying anything weird, because that might make people disturbed with her and leave her alone. But regardless of what happens, Hajime doesn't leave her. And that's special to her, because to her knowledge, that's a first for her.

Of course, Hajime is not a therapist. But the first step towards improvement is trusting someone with your issues and identifying them. Having a shoulder to cry on is not a necessary step, but it’s a step that goes a long way. Then you take the next step, seeking help. And when it comes to that, it's always nice to have someone that holds your hand and leads you the right way. But in the end It's still up to you to walk forward.

Aesthetically, Hinamiki is a pair I’d describe as a “soft-looking” ship. Their height difference is adorable and they’re typically depicted as being very cuddly in fanart. Very Cool and Good. I also love how the purple and pink stands next to the green and white, the colors are noticeably different, but compliment each other in a soft way nonetheless.

I also really love the different dichotomies between the two. They both seek to be recognized, (one out of a desire for the inherent prestige of talent in a talent-obsessed society, the other out of love) both get taken in by a personal devil that promise them what they want, only to coax them into becoming monsters of hope and despair respectively. I love that one is a hyper nervous wreck of a medical genius while another is a tempered, but gentle heart that struggles to remember what a fucking elevator is. And I love how they just get each other. It’s heartwarming to see two people understand the other’s insecurities and how they affect them.

Ultimately, I think a ship that’s all about the respite and quiet intimacy between two who understand and love each other is a nice break from how bombastic and forward Danganronpa usually is, both for how they go through everything, but also for the viewer. You could say that I love Hinamiki for being what danganronpa usually isn’t then lol, just two characters taking their time to care for each other and getting a bit of respite. Because that's love.

Thank u for ur time ❤️

#danganronpa #hinamiki

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izdamann · 4 years ago

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Historical Borders

As we attempt to continue bringing awareness to the term “Gentrification” and the affects it has on cultural aspects we should realize that the concept of gentrification has been happening since Christopher Columbus so called discovered this great land we call home. The vicious efforts of men like Davy Crockett and Daniel Boone even further perpetrated this horrible act. That was a time of a more savage execution of the term “gentrification”. Now this callous act is executed more subtly. It happens slowly over a period of years.

More than two hundred years ago immigrants from other countries migrated here in search of a better life. People from nearly all over the world found a place found a place to call home in NYC. Fast forward a couple of centuries to present day without the fulfilled moral and economical promises not everyone has enjoyed the opportunities of prosperity. Some have been privileged to take full advantage of these opportunities and it has offered them a better life. So in this journey of traveling great geographical distances in search for a better life generations later, for some it was worth it. For others, generations later, they are still searching for a better life. On a metaphorical journey spending their lives stuck in either neutral or going in reverse never having the same opportunities. With the lack of opportunities the result is that one would eventually be displaced from the only place they’ve ever known as home.

Gentrification attacks from many different angles. The economical affects of gentrification takes it toll also. Cultural establishments like the restaurant “Mad Tropical” where we visited were once the pillars of the community and were prosperous and plentiful in Bushwick Brooklyn not too long ago. Now you’ll definitely have to search for a good authentic latinX restaurant as they vanish one by one in what used to be a predominantly latinX neighborhood. It seems like over night the neighborhood has changed. What’s happening to the culture in NYC? A place where authentic cultural flavor used to thrive is now being replaced by corporations bleeding the land of its cultural resources. While pushing out its cultural resources corporations are missing opportunities to fuse with the very communities they inhabit.

In my opinion gentrification is not about protesting to keep one group of people out of a particular neighborhood. God knows this country has had its challenges with that struggle with marginalizing minorities. In my opinion it’s about protecting the vulnerable from the effects of it. The ideal of America hasn't been fully realized yet and in the interim we must continue to hold these ideals true. Creating borders of any kind whether it be social or economical is not what was promised by this great nation. Gentrification does exactly that, create borders. During this countries dark periods people were barred from desirable neighborhoods based solely on the color of their skin. Now, people are being pushing out of desirable neighborhoods based on their economic footing. Which in my opinion is the back door way of keeping people out based on the color of their skin.

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howwelldoyouknowyourmoon · 4 years ago

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How Far Down the QAnon Rabbit Hole Did Your Loved One Fall?

What to do when someone you love becomes obsessed with QAnon, part 2.

Psychology Today

Joe Pierre M.D. August 21, 2020

“Who knows what this means, but it sounds good to me.”

—President Trump, retweeting a QAnon-related meme

This is part 2 of a series on “What to do When Someone You Love Becomes Obsessed with QAnon.”

In the first installment, "The Psychological Needs That QAnon Feeds," I discussed the psychological needs that QAnon may fulfill for its followers. Understanding those needs is a vital first step in order to understand why those who have fallen down the QAnon rabbit hole may be loathe to climb out. In this installment, I’ll set the stage to understand how the chances of rescuing our loved ones from the QAnon rabbit hole—and how to go about trying—may depend on just how far they’ve fallen.

Are Conspiracy Theorists “Crazy?”

To begin with, let’s differentiate belief in conspiracy theories like QAnon from the kind of delusional beliefs that are used to define mental illness and psychosis. Generally speaking, delusions are false and unshared beliefs that are often based on subjective “inner” experience and whose content is often “self-referential,” involving the believer. In contrast, conspiracy theories are usually shared beliefs that don’t explicitly involve the believer and are based on external evidence that one finds “out there,” such as on the internet. Unlike delusions, conspiracy theories may or may not turn out to be true. After all, they’re “theories.”

Based on this distinction, people who believe in conspiracy theories, however “crazy” they might sound, are no more delusional than those who believe in literal interpretations of religious texts like the Bible or the Quran. And so QAnon—the increasingly popular “right-wing” belief about the secret nefarious machinations of the Satan-worshipping, child-trafficking “Deep State” and President Trump’s destiny to thwart them—is a classic conspiracy theory, not a delusion. Now, if someone were to believe not only in QAnon dogma, but also in the false and unshared belief that they are Q, that would suggest a delusion. Note that it’s possible to believe in both conspiracy theories and delusions at the same time, with some overlap.

Conspiracy Theory Belief: Particle and Wave

Another way to understand whether beliefs might be considered “pathological” is to model them quantitatively as a continuous phenomenon—in other words, within a kind of scale that measures intensity or severity. For example, a cognitive model of delusional beliefs quantifies them along “dimensions” that include strength of conviction (how strongly one believes a delusion), preoccupation (how much one thinks about the delusion), extension (how much the delusion “bleeds into” or affects one's life), and distress (how much one is upset by the belief). Applying this model to non-delusional beliefs like conspiracy theories can help to understand when a belief is likely to disrupt people’s lives with a negative impact on their jobs, relationships, and mental well-being.1

Moving along a continuum of conspiracy theory belief, dimensions like conviction, preoccupation, extension, and distress would be expected to increase across it, along with mistrust in authoritative and mainstream sources of information.2 As believers go deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole, more and more time is spent “researching” conspiracy theories and immersing oneself in online discussions with other conspiracy theory believers, with less and less time spent on work, relationships, or other recreational pursuits. As this happens, believers increasingly turn their back on previous friends and family who don’t agree with their beliefs and don’t “inhabit” their new world.

Similar to how physicists understand light as both “particle” and “wave,” it can also be helpful to conceptualize belief intensity as discrete points along a continuum, like colors in the visible light “spectrum.” Conspiracy theory researcher Dr. Bradley Franks and his colleagues have proposed just such a spectrum model, with 5 “types” or stages of conspiracy theory belief.3 Their model goes something like this (with additional comments added by me):

Type/stage 1: People feel like “something isn’t right,” but keep an open mind as they seek answers to questions.

Type/stage 2: People feel as if “there’s more to reality than meets the eye,” are skeptical about official explanations, and start to seek out alternative sources of information.

Type/stage 3: Mistrust of authoritative sources of information increases to the point of definitive belief that some official narratives are untrue. As a result, people continue to seek information and engage with like-minded people from whom they gain a sense of belonging and group membership. They’re also more likely to get involved in “political action.”

Type/stage 4: At this point, nearly all official and mainstream accounts are rejected so that people turn away from the mainstream in favor of affiliation with an “enlightened” community of conspiracy theory believers. Non-believers are dismissed as “sheep” who are “asleep.”

Type/stage 5: In the final stage, authoritative and mainstream accounts are rejected to such an extent as to embrace belief in not only improbable, but frankly supernatural explanations for events (e.g. aliens, lizard people, etc.). At this stage, conspiracy theories and delusions may begin to overlap with self-referential aspects.

Dr. Franks’ proposed spectrum of conspiracy theory believers is a novel framework to help understand just how far down the rabbit hole conspiracy theory believers have gone. But for the purpose of deciding how to intervene within that continuum, it may be more useful to more simply divide conspiracy theory believers into two stages: “fence-sitters” and “true believers.”

Fence-Sitters and True Believers

The mentally healthy way to hold most of our beliefs is with “cognitive flexibility,” acknowledging that we might be wrong and remaining open to other people’s perspectives. It’s likewise a good idea to maintain a healthy level of skepticism about new information that we encounter lest we succumb to our cognitive biases and merely reinforce preexisting beliefs. This is especially true when we’re talking about theories where supporting evidence is modest or preliminary, and in the case of religious or political beliefs, where a lack of objective evidence often leads to many equivocal perspectives, such that faith becomes necessary to sustain belief.

In the early stages of conspiracy theory belief, people are “fence-sitters” who are looking for answers and haven’t yet made up their minds. Cognitive flexibility and open-mindedness may be intact, but skepticism is already closely linked with mistrust of authoritative sources of information. At this stage, conspiracy theories are appealing as expressions of, or even metaphors for, that mistrust—for the idea that both information and informants are unreliable—without necessarily having a significant degree of belief conviction. This preliminary stage explains why some people might endorse Flat Earth conspiracy theories without actually believing the Earth is flat.

Farther down the rabbit hole, conspiracy theories are embraced with greater belief conviction and become entwined with a new group affiliation and personal identity (e.g. within QAnon, adherents identify as “anons,” “bakers,” and “Q-patriots”) that makes it increasingly difficult to maintain previously established social ties. As such “true believers” move away from the mainstream and in turn are estranged because of their fringe beliefs, they often feel increasingly marginalized and under threat.

In order to protect themselves and resolve cognitive dissonance, they often “double down,” ramping up belief conviction further and diving even farther into a new ideological world. Many will increasingly feel the need to take action, whether spending more time posting on social media in order to “spread the word” or at the extreme, through more drastic and potentially dangerous measures like arming themselves in order to “self-investigate” a child pornography ring at a pizza parlor.

When people’s beliefs become so enmeshed with their identities, giving them up can be viewed as an existential threat akin to death. Needless to say, that's a bad prognostic sign.

In Part 3 of this series on “What to do when someone you love becomes obsessed with QAnon,” we’ll conclude by discussing what kind of interventions might be helpful, depending on just how far down the rabbit hole of conspiracy theory belief someone has gone.

References

1. Pierre JM. Faith or delusion? At the crossroads of religion and psychosis. Journal of Psychiatric Practice 2001; 7:163-172.

2. Pierre JM. Mistrust and misinformation: a two-component, socio-epistemic model of belief in conspiracy theories. Journal of Social and Political Psychology 2020 (in press). [Available as a PsyArXic preprint at https://psyarxiv.com/xhw52]

3. Franks B, Bangerter A, Bauer MW, Hall M, Noort MC. Beyond “monologicality”? Exploring conspiracist worldviews. Frontiers in Psychology 2017; 8, 861.

https://www.psychologytoday.com/ca/blog/psych-unseen/202008/how-far-down-the-qanon-rabbit-hole-did-your-loved-one-fall

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part 1 Psychology Today

The Psychological Needs That QAnon Feeds

Joe Pierre M.D. August 12, 2020

https://www.psychologytoday.com/ca/blog/psych-unseen/202008/the-psychological-needs-qanon-feeds

____________________________________________

part 3 Psychology Today

What to do when someone you love becomes obsessed with QAnon

4 Keys to Help Someone Climb Out of the QAnon Rabbit Hole

Joe Pierre M.D. September 1, 2020

https://www.psychologytoday.com/ca/blog/psych-unseen/202009/4-keys-help-someone-climb-out-the-qanon-rabbit-hole

____________________________________________

Rolling Stone

It took years for the cracks to emerge for Jadeja, who slowly started to realize that Q drops were laden with logical inconsistencies. A turning point for him was a follower asking Q to get Trump to say the term “tippy top” as proof of Trump’s knowledge of the conspiracy; when Trump did say the phrase during a 2018 Easter egg roll speech, Q believers rejoiced, believing it to be confirmation that Q was real. Jadeja did some research and saw that Trump had said the phrase many times before. “That’s when I realized this was all a very slick con,” he says.

Former QAnon Followers Explain What Drew Them In — And Got Them Out

Like those leaving cults, some people who believe in conspiracy theories like QAnon and Pizzagate can break free from their beliefs

by EJ Dickson September 23, 2020 9:00AM ET

https://www.rollingstone.com/culture/culture-features/ex-qanon-followers-cult-conspiracy-theory-pizzagate-1064076/

____________________________________________

West Point

The QAnon Conspiracy Theory: A Security Threat in the Making?

July 2020

https://ctc.usma.edu/the-qanon-conspiracy-theory-a-security-threat-in-the-making/

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Why it’s important to see QAnon as a ‘hyper-real’ religion

May 28, 2020

https://religiondispatches.org/in-the-name-of-the-father-son-and-q-why-its-important-to-see-qanon-as-a-hyper-real-religion/

____________________________________________

The Birth of QAmom

Parenting influencers have embraced sex-trafficking conspiracy theories — and it’s taking QAnon from the internet into the streets

by EJ Dickson

https://www.rollingstone.com/culture/culture-features/qanon-mom-conspiracy-theory-parents-sex-trafficking-qamom-1048921/

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CNN: Born on the dark fringes of the internet, QAnon is now infiltrating mainstream American life and politics

CNN July 3, 2020

by Paul P. Murphy

____________________________________________

The thin line between conspiracy theories and cult worship is dissolving

An information war is being waged.

bigthink.com May 18, 2020

by Derek Beres

____________________________________________

The Prophecies of Q American conspiracy theories are entering a dangerous new phase.

The Atlantic June 2020

The Women Making Conspiracy Theories Beautiful

The Atlantic August 18, 2020

I Was a Teenage Conspiracy Theorist

The Atlantic May 13, 2020

______________________________________

I’m dating a conspiracy theorist. But it feels like I’m the one going crazy.

Washington Post August 16, 2020

By Trent Kay Maverick

______________________________________

Coronavirus: How do I recognize a conspiracy theory?

DW Deutsche Welle May 19, 2020

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Reddit community QAnon Casualties share stories of conspiracy cult

Herald Sun August 11, 2020

by Jack Gramenz, news.com.au

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Christian Groups That Resist Public-Health Guidelines Are Forgetting a Key Part of the Religion’s History

TIME April 20, 2020

by Matthew Gabriele

______________________________________

Childcare in the Unification Church of Oakland

Sun Myung Moon’s Sex-based Adam and Eve story is just another conspiracy theory

#Joe Pierre M.D.#QAnon #Conspiracy Theories #Psychology Today

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somnilogical · 5 years ago

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like the evil people at cfar & affiliates have no philosophical leg to stand on and they know it. all they can do is violate their wistleblower policy, try and make a narrative where they see which transfem they can dismiss as crazy / rapist / brainwashed. trying tentative exploratory lies in each direction. then when challenged being like "ah no i didnt mean it like that!! i love trans women!" and then doing it again.

ive documented so many of them. a lot of the lies were calculated such that it would be mortifying to repeat them even to correct them. like elle benjamin saying emma thought torturing children was hot. thats a lie. or kelsey piper saying emma was indistinguishable from a rapist.

but the correct response at these tentative tries at defamation is to repost them in full and drive straight against the expectation that you wouldnt want to repeat these lies aimed to eliminate people who could disrupt the social order.

here's kelsey piper comparing emma to brent dill, saying they are indistinguishable from a rapist for talking about philosophy on the internet:

https://pastebin.com/tje4hN33

heres emmas parse of it:

<<actual lintamande quotes simplified:

glass said [they tried to do what a] person really endorsedly wanted [...] even if the person claimed they wanted something different

[they may have been seeking social] proof that we didn't really have an ethical injunction against it

and part of my main concern about glass, etc. is that their priors seem really really off to me?

so if they say they'll use their social priors to decide when it's appropriate to violate peoples' preferences, I am more scared than if someone whose social priors seem sensible to me says that

combination of two things. one is that, yes, people's "this person is manipulating me and coercing me" detectors ping, at glass in particular, and asking people to turn down their 'this person is manipulating me and coercing me' detectors is a big ask and not always good for them

with comments interspersed about Brent so that people would associate me with him>>

lex (trans) noted this pattern about the chatroom:

<<[11:19] alexander: they’re like... kiiiinda incapable of criticizing the ethical positions of a trans woman without lowkey calling her a rapist. which is like all cis people ever but i’m not happy with it>>

heres elle benjamin choosing to "believe" the lie that emma thought child abuse was hot:

(emma was never let in the "feminist" group to...talk about their experience of being abused.)

heres elle benjamin talking about how much she loves trans women and has empathy for emma being abused. while lying about emma thinking child abuse was hot and lying about them having been violent and banning them from the "rationalist feminist" group they mod. (using the same excuse kingsley did when he said that he chose to believe the lie that anna salamon, president of cfar, wasnt involved in hiring at cfar. "oh someone else told me this." as if that shunts responsibility on to someone else for you believing obvious lies. (it doesnt. someone telling you stereotyped lies about minorities doesnt abdicate responsibility for joining in with the mob.)):

its all so deeply evil what these people are doing. but all they have is "for vague unspecified reasons its Deeply Wise not to listen to what these people say" *sage nod* "they are infohazards, glitches in the matrix, we should all agree on a social norm of ignoring these people." because they are actually wrong and will lose in a debate if they have to justify, say, why they are saying OpenAI and DeepMind have 'alignment teams' when they know thats not true. or why 0 trans women have ever been hired by cfar. or why miri lied about what happened to the fundraiser. or why who is baked in to an fai as morally relevant is determined by a political process, excluding those who have died and nonhuman sentience. or 1000 other questions they can not answer.

these exploratory tendrils of "what lies based on nothing can we get away with?" they also did this with somni and ziz and gwen, the lies they try have a pattern of being blatantly transmisogynistic. for instance patrick sensa lavictoire after sinking a marginal 71,000$ into a failed fundraiser, tried the lie of [ziz is a "gross uncle" style abuser like brent]. https://pastebin.com/TUZ7EThz

there are a lot of avenues people tried that i have catalogued. pete michaud (listed on the cfar staff page) tried saying that ziz was tall and anna was a ~small vulnerable cis woman~. one of these people is the president of a large organization.

<<I'll preface by saying outright that what follows is a full throated, shameless defense of Anna, my friend and colleague, against untrue and ungrounded accusations.

[…]

1. An accusation of Anna that might actually land is that she is a little fast to feel threatened in social situations. She is a woman who is unusually small and has dealt with minor physical disabilities from childhood. She is a full-grown, competent person who navigates life fine (probably better than most, frankly), but the sense of physical vulnerability has deep roots, and she carries it into her social interactions.

2. The context with Ziz is long, and importantly begins prior to Ziz's gender transition. Anna's perspective on a lot of their early interactions is as a small, socially-vulnerable woman, interacting with a male-presenting person who towers over her, and has a penetrating social presence and quite unusual mannerisms that are a combination of low-affect and extremely direct (a combination easy to interpret as aggressive or depersoning).>>

https://pastebin.com/Y5E8d29D

pastel (trans) commented: <<pete michaud's post is invalid

you don't have to read ziz's blog to understand that he is doing bullshit stereotypy

"full-throated defense" suck anna's cock a little deeper, buddy

"anarchists are scary and evil, they throw bombs and wear black">>

pete is a sycophant and probably since he hangs around anna is used to an environment where you can just be this transmisogynistic. anna certainly expected the strat pete is trying to work on ziz.

<<At WAISS, my intent to not be net negative was partially consumed by the intent of Anna Salamon to prevent whistleblowing, and by her timeless gambit that trans women must know our place as inferior to not be “dangerous”.>>

there are a lot more. all playing on transmisogynistic stereotypes, all not true or not relevant. probably the easiest coordination mechanism for ostracism these people could locate.

fortunately for the fate of sentient life in the multiverse, transfems have been talking with each other and know the metagame so when cfar affiliates push the button that activates the trapdoor to flush transfems out im just levitating above empty space.

they could have read the metagame too, but i guess all they would have chosen to see was painful infohazardous static. frying their brain, making their eyes bleed. which honestly is pretty metal. credit to porpentine for neurotype stenography. i know way more about their strategy than they do.

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riviae · 5 years ago

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so this is long & rambly but i’ve been working on this for awhile now.... anyway, starts out very introspective!regis-y but becomes geralt/regis fluff real quick lol. hope y’all enjoy:

Before crossing paths with a witcher who proved himself to be a man worth following into the very jaws of death, the seasons hadn’t meant much to Regis.

He knew the cycle of things--life and death, warmth and cold, planting and harvesting--but he was an outsider to these things just as everything else on the Continent. Time passed. Wars were fought. Blood was shed. Empires rose and fell. All the while, Regis remained, burdened by an immortal life lived alone. To take part in humanity, to love it to some extent, but disappear into the shadows when a curious eye took interest in him. When a hand reached out--something that rarely occurred, unless holding a sword, pitchfork, or torch--he knew it was time to pack up and leave, lest he get too attached.

Self-preservation, for higher vampires, was confined to the affairs of the heart and the mind--their bodies were not in danger of ruin, but memories and emotions were often ruinous for his kind.

Yet, whatever contentment he could find as a bystander to the world’s happenings and goings was dashed the moment he met Geralt. All those years ago, Regis had fled from Dillingen to his home in Fen Carn, a cottage in the midst of an elven cemetery, in an attempt at avoiding the ever-encroaching war.

And in perhaps the same cosmically infinitesimal chances of the Conjunction of Spheres occurring, Regis’ entire life changed at the sight of milk-white hair and amber cat-like eyes. He stepped out of his hiding spot, brushed away the stray leaves that clung to his clothes, and faced his destiny with a reserved, tight-lipped smile.

He’s a witcher, Regis thought, the wolf medallion at the man’s sternum sparking a tiny flame of uneasiness in the vampire’s gut. Then, a more logical thought followed: I’ve always wanted to meet a witcher under amicable circumstances and now, here one is, practically at my doorstep. What luck!

As his journey with Geralt and the hansa continued, as they traveled and fought, bled and healed, wintered in a land akin to a fairytale, Regis had a startling realization. Something had thawed inside him and he was fairly certain it was the stirrings of love. Like a change in season, like the subtle shift from winter to spring, where one wakes in the morning and sees that all the snow has seemingly melted in the night, unaware of the slowly melting ice with each sunny day until it was completely gone, so Regis was caught unaware by what he felt for the hansa--by what he felt for Geralt in particular.

Just how far would he go for these humans? How much would he sacrifice for these flickering beacons of light, here one moment, gone in the next? It was the ghost of himself--the monster he once was--that would have asked these questions. But the Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzeiff-Godefroy of the present loved his friends even more for their fragility, their tenacity in the face of a world that seemed at the ready to send them into an early grave. Love, he decided, staring at the smiling faces of the hansa at their breakfast table in Beauclair Palace, was a good enough reason to die for--and a good enough reason to live for, when he was on the cusp of nothingness. When any other sentient being would have longed for death in the throes of agony, Regis held on. For them.

Memories spilled from his head at the first touch of magic-touched flames, nails clawing helplessly at the air. Fear burned him alive, ate away at his flesh until nothing but a pillar of ash remained. It was a pain worse than anything he had felt before--worse than anything he could have ever fathomed. He was neither alive nor dead, but something grotesquely stuck in the middle, unable to pass on to the comforting abyss of oblivion.

Between the coldness of fear and not-death, between the pain of a body futilely attempting to regenerate from nothing, Regis did find some respite. He dreamed. And dreamed. And dreamed. He was transported to memories of the past, and while some were happier than others, even the painful recollections felt better than the aching emptiness that threatened to swallow his consciousness whole.

Angouleme’s encouraging laughter whenever he used one of her... unique phrases. A warning pinch from Milva when he veered too far off topic, followed by an apologetic, but brief pat of his hand. A comfortable silence between himself and Cahir as they stayed up to guard the group during the night, sharing a small tincture of mandrake hooch to pass the time. Dandelion’s rapt attention to Regis’ stories, one time so transfixed that he caught his sleeve on fire as they all sat around the campfire and didn’t even notice. Geralt telling him about Ciri, voice warm, eyes crinkled in a rare unguarded expression of fondness.

He thought back on his journal entries, the once severe, cerebral scrawl now sprinkled with mentions of the hansa.

Angouleme somehow stole a dozen baguettes from the last tavern we stopped at and took only a quarter of one for herself before distributing the rest to the unfortunate people living in the slums of the city--and I never would have noticed (her prowess as a bandit is not something to be dismissive of, regardless of her youth) if she hadn’t also tried to search through my satchel while I “slept” in the hopes of finding olive oil to spread over her bread. For a child raised by cruelty, her morals are far better than mine when I was her age--or, rather, when I was developmentally at her age. Well, better in certain respects. She’s been quite a menace to the echelon of Toussaint...

Milva means to show me how to hunt like humans do, meaning that I must learn how to be an archer. I don’t have much skill with human weapons--for nothing is as deadly as a pair of claws or teeth built to pierce and bleed flesh--but I will try my best all the same. Perhaps after this we can continue our reading lessons. For as much as she bemoans academics and learning for the sake of learning (as in things not readily helpful in her everyday survival), she is a naturally charming and brilliant pupil. Her “common sense,” as Angouleme often calls it, has kept us from harm plenty of times--which is why her ability as a student doesn’t surprise me. Now, if only she would stop climbing up a tree whenever our lessons start to bore her...

Cahir, to my surprise, has taken on the role of doing the laundry for the group. Granted, we all have very few vestments to spare, but what clothes we do have that can reasonably benefit from a soak, Cahir takes and washes in the lake. Which, while I appreciate the sentiment immensely, I still found myself mildly panicked when I went to dress in the morning and my trousers were nowhere to be found. The man is quite young, probably no more than twenty-two years, but he has an old soul, as the saying goes. I would not be surprised if he finally grows sick of war, having grown up in an Empire where bloodshed is the status quo, and decides to make his living as a fisherman or farmer after we reunite Geralt with his ward. I sincerely hope that he gets the chance.

Dandelion, ever the poet, has shown me his latest ballad. And imagine my surprise when I realized it was about me despite my immense caution on writing anything regarding higher vampires at all. It’s incredibly vapid--a shame, since he is quite the wordsmith when not preoccupied by romantic affairs--but I admit, if it were published, it would become popular within a week. He took the story of my youth and twisted it into something nearly unrecognizable, save for the titular character being named Rex. A two-crown romance with the nominative case of my name attached... perhaps this is a caution to everyone: never make friends with a writer if you value your privacy.

Geralt dozed off beside me with his head on my shoulder. Now, him sleeping close to me is not all that uncommon--we spent many nights as a company huddled around a dwindling campfire together. What was uncommon was that he sought me out--practically barged into my room--to take his late afternoon nap... all the while I remained as still as a statue, attempting to process the sudden show of affection. Toussaint had softened Geralt in a way, so much in fact, that he apparently saw no harm in falling asleep next to a higher vampire, his swords still leaning in the corner of his room. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of his unusual straightforwardness. Where others might embellish their words, dress them up (or down) to suit their agenda, Geralt forgoes words entirely, instead letting his actions speak with a refreshing honesty. I heard the “I trust you, Regis,” as clear as day.

He thought back to all the times were his cowardice had kept him from voicing his feelings and it paralleled to his past, as if he were the same blood-abusing fiend of his youth. Centuries had passed and glimpses of the same shy, timid vampire who drank blood to be accepted, to make friends, only to lose himself in addiction, still rose to the surface. Blood was no longer a problem, but the fear of otherness, of being ostracized by those he cared about, still tempered his actions. And he was absolutely tired of it.

It was then that Regis made a vow to himself: If I live, If I become whole again, I will tell him the truth. He got his chance almost a decade later, when he was as whole as anyone could be after regenerating from nothing but dust and a drop of blood.

After Dettlaff was placated, no longer a danger to himself or others, Regis visited Geralt at Corvo Bianco. It was summer then, a season that saw him at the witcher’s door just as the last of the rows of sunflowers turned towards the sunlight in the midday heat.

He knocked on the front door, politeness dictating his actions. A disheveled witcher opened the door, familiar cat-eyes widening marginally at the sight of Regis, as close to a slack-jaw moment of surprise as anyone were bound to get from Geralt.

“Expecting someone else?” Regis teased, clutching the strap of his satchel as he crossed the threshold into Geralt’s home. He gave a cursory glance about the homestead--it had been decorated fairly well since the last time he visited to drop off the mutagenerator. In fact, the interior was downright cozy, a far cry from what he imagined a witcher keep to look like.

No matter what Geralt says, his years spent on the Path have influenced him. Only someone who expects to wake in the morning would bother to decorate their home--or to have a home at all.

The witcher shook his head, long, tangled locks spilling over his shoulders as he scratched tiredly at his beard. “Wasn’t expecting anyone. Thought if it was you though that you’d let yourself in.”

Regis held his tongue, wanting nothing more than to sit Geralt down and trim his beard. He knew from their time with the hansa that the witcher preferred to be clean-shaven, but hated trimming it himself. The vampire pushed the thought aside. “While I could have simply misted through your window, I didn’t wish to give you a fright.”

“How considerate,” Geralt said, voice rough but teasing. “You chose to wake me instead of letting yourself in.”

“I assumed you’d be awake. I didn’t realize that respectable vineyard owners slept in until noon.”

Geralt rolled his eyes at the well-natured jab before walking to his room, leaving the door open behind him. Regis remained in the foyer, focusing his attention on the rather impressive collection of witcher armor that Geralt had acquired. Yet, his supernatural hearing made it impossible not to eavesdrop to some extent; he heard the rustling of fabric and the soft thud of an article of clothing hitting the wooden floor.

“Hey, Regis,” Geralt drawled.

“Yes?” he replied a beat too quickly, turning towards the open door.

“...Gonna get in here? Or do I need to invite you into every room?”

Scrambling somewhat, the vampire entered just as Geralt tugged a clean white linen shirt over himself. At meeting the witcher’s gaze, the man gave a wide grin. “You came at a good time. I’ve actually got something for you. But close your eyes first.”

“Geralt, what are you--”

“Shh. Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

A brief flash of fond irritation flickered in Regis’ expression as he gave a long sigh, but obeyed, shutting his eyes. He listened to the tempo of Geralt’s heart-rate, the usual slow and steady rhythm having quickened by a few beats. Ah, so he’s excited, Regis mused. Even witcher mutations couldn’t rob him of the biochemistry of his sympathetic nervous system. Then, a sour thought: I hope this isn’t the last time I get to witness such a jovial mood.

The sound of his heartbeat grew stronger as the man approached, some sort of fabric draped in his arms, if the rustling earlier was any indication. Gently, Geralt placed the mystery item in Regis’ arms and backed away, the old floorboards creaking under his weight.

“Happy birthday, Regis.”

The vampire opened his eyes to see Geralt smiling warmly at him. Peering down, he couldn’t stop the look of absolute surprise upon his features, mouth agape.

“This is...” Regis trailed, fingers running delicately over the soft fabric, briefly pausing to rub his thumb against the black fur which lined the inside.

“It’s not the exact cloak, given what happened at Stygga Castle,” Geralt paused, briefly wincing at the horrid memory, “But I thought you’d appreciate a new one.”

Regis opened his mouth and then immediately closed it, unable to find the words to express how much the gift meant to him. You remembered... years passed and you still remembered.

“I know you can’t feel heat or cold like humans do, but...” he shrugged, a hint of sheepishness in his posture, a hand rising up to rub at the back of his neck. “It’s been weird not seeing you with one. You never took that damn thing off so I thought it must have meant something to you.”

“Geralt,” Regis finally replied once he found his voice again. It was the only warning he gave before the vampire laid the cloak on the bed and moved to seize the witcher in a tight embrace.

Geralt looped his arms around Regis’ back in return, chuckling. He made no attempt at ending the embrace even as the time spent pressed together stretched on. “So... guessing you liked the gift, huh?” he finally asked, leaning into the gentle swaying of their bodies.

When Regis spoke, it was barely past a whisper, but Geralt heard him all the same. “Thank you. Thank you for listening to me--for knowing me. Thank you, above all else, for being my friend.”

“I think I should be thanking you. All I got you was a cloak--but you helped bring Ciri home. Almost gave up your life. Can’t imagine that... risking your immortality for someone like me.”

“Geralt,” Regis started, pulling away to stare the witcher in the eyes, expression serious, “You are exactly the kind of person that inspires sacrifice. You have a noble heart and, despite your best attempts at proving otherwise, it is a heart full of compassion for others. I know you would have done the same if our roles had been reversed.”

The witcher was silent then. When he finally managed a response, he did so while clasping Regis’ shoulder. It was something the vampire had noticed ever since meeting Geralt again--the man was more tactile than he’d been before his regeneration. As if he was making sure that Regis was real. Alive. Of flesh and bone. Not something that would crumble at his touch or slip through his fingers like a ghostly apparition.

“I don’t know if I deserve your kind words, Regis. i haven’t always been... noble. There are things I haven’t told you about. Things that pertain to you.” At this, Geralt’s grip on his shoulder faltered and he pulled away suddenly, as if he were expecting to be hurt. “Truth is, I’ve been keeping a secret.”

Regis blinked in surprise, a retort resting on the tip of his tongue, but he paused. He noticed, for the first time, that Geralt did look genuinely nervous. Geralt had never looked nervous in his presence--at least not because of Regis. The thought left a sour taste in his mouth all the same.

The vampire took a step forward. If Geralt was also planning to tell him a long-kept secret, then he wanted to tell his own confession first. While he still had the courage to do so. “I too have kept something from you, Geralt. I hope we can still remain as close as we were after this... revelation, if you will. But I understand if you’d prefer some time away from me afterwards.”

“I doubt there’s anything you could say that would make me want you to keep your distance, Regis. Not after Stygga.”

Regis gave an attempt at a half-hearted chuckle. “Hearing you say that really warms my heart--especially the certainty in your voice--but I’m afraid that what I need to say will change the course of our relationship, for better or worse. You see, Geralt, I’m... quite fond of you.”

“I’m fond of you as well...” Geralt replied, confusion twisting his features. “Is that really your big secret?”

“Oh, for the love of--” Regis cut himself off, reaching instead with one hand to encircle Geralt’s wrist while the other cupped Geralt’s cheek. “I love you, you stubborn witcher. I’ve loved you for awhile now, really. Even before Stygga. You’re incredibly easy to fall in love with, though I see now that you’re completely oblivious to this trait.”

Regis’ hold was gentle, light--something Geralt could easily pull away from if he wished to. But he didn’t. Staring into his own reflection within the coal black of the vampire’s eyes, Geralt closed the gap between them, answering Regis’ confession with his own: a kiss.

Between kisses, Geralt paused, huffing out a short breath. “...You know, I’m feeling like a fool for not telling you that I loved you sooner, Regis.”

“Likewise. Which is not something I feel all that often.”

At this, they both laughed before resting their foreheads against each other. It had been a long road to this--to love--but it was well-earned. Later, Regis’ cloak found a home within a closet in Corvo Bianco. Though the weather in Toussaint was rarely cold enough to warrant a fur-lined cloak, Regis wore it as often as he could, but Geralt left an empty hanger in the closet all the same--just in case.

Seasons hadn’t meant much to Regis... but now, watching the morning sunlight from the bedroom window pool against the witcher’s back, he felt a tug of warmth at the first touch of Fall, at the chance of donning his cloak and the memory of the day it was gifted to him. He didn’t want to replace the painful memories, the memories of those he loved but lost, but he also knew that somewhere, surely, Milva, Cahir, and Angouleme were smiling down at them. And that was a sense of peace with his past that he wouldn’t trade for the world.

#geralt of rivia #emiel regis #tfw ur both in love but too oblivious to pick up the cues from the other person #& also take almost an entire decade to confess to each other #i swear they're both really smart intuitive ppl but put them together & it's like they have one brain cell #regis: i like you #geralt: oh i like you too. we're friends so that makes sense #regis: .....oh my god #geralt doesn't realize how easy he is to love & that's just sad™#this is basically really sad hansa thoughts that evolve into fluff w/ geralt/regis bc i have two settings & that's angst & pure happiness #so uhh yeah it really be like that sometimes #apologies for the emotional whiplash lmao #edit: i forgot the geralt/regis tag on this post alskdjfsfds #geralt/regis

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alexsmitposts · 5 years ago

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Pandemic Intensifies Divisions Among US Elite On Thursday April 30th, protesters, some carrying firearms, marched into the Michigan state capitol building. The demonstration was just the latest of a stream of protests demanding an end to the lockdown and social distancing. Despite giving daily briefings to the country amidst the pandemic, and urging social distancing, US President Donald Trump has tweeted in support of these protests, which are taking place across the country. Trump has also singled out Michigan’s democratic governor for criticism. It seems there is a widespread mobilization opposing necessary health measures throughout the United States. It is unclear what the protesters want. Some echo the sentiments of Glenn Beck and Texas Lt. Governor, Dan Patrick, that the lives of elderly and vulnerable people should be sacrificed for the sake of revving up America’s economy. Others echo claims circulating on social media, alleging that the pandemic is a hoax conducted by enemies of Donald Trump. Signs follow the ideological brand of the 2008-2010 Tea Party protests that opposed Obama’s healthcare plan. Slogans include “Social Distancing is Communism” and there are placards containing references to Hitler, the US Constitution, Liberty, and Tyranny. Meanwhile, there are also mobilizations of the organized political left. Examples of these include: car caravans calling for a rent freeze, strikes and organizing among essential workers. Unrest is brewing in US society as the economy is the worst it has been in decades. Unemployment numbers have reached level not seen since the Great Depression. The chasm between two factions in the US economic ruling class, divisions which expanded under Obama and became even more intense following the 2016 elections, are sharper than ever. Who is Behind The Anti-Lock Down Protests? The people responsible for the right wing mobilizations are a coalition of millionaires and billionaires who feel like they are locked out by the ultra-rich. This is the coalition that took Trump to the White House in 2016. Amidst the pandemic, these lower levels of American capital are watching the blood gush from their financial wounds. With oil prices lower than they have ever been, an essential part of the Trump coalition, fracking companies, have begun to face the possibility of their ultimate demise. Frackers were already extracting oil and natural gas from American shale on credit from banks, with low oil prices hurting their profit margins. The New York Times published an op-ed by Bethany McLean with the headline: “Coronavirus May Kill Our Fracking Fever Dream” predicting that the pandemic will finish them off for good. Meanwhile, the other big names among the Trump camp are also suffering. AmWay, the multi-level marketing scheme that enriched Trump’s billionaire Secretary of Education, Betsy DeVos, has watched its sales plummet. Hobby Lobby, whose CEO, David Green, was one of Trump’s most outspoken supporters, closed all of its stores until further notice on April 7th. NASCAR is hoping to resume its season in late May, but its CEO, Jim France, son of outspoken Trump supporter, Brian France, has undoubtedly lost significant amounts of money from the cancelled races and lost advertisement revenue. While Home Depot, owned by Trump supporter, Bernie Marcus, has managed to stay open as an essential business, it has been forced to accept limited hours, and sales have significantly decreased in the spring months that usually generate about 30% of annual sales. The desperation to end the lockdown on the part of many millionaire and billionaire capitalists is quite real. They face financial ruin. Meanwhile, they are very well aware that certain competitors are fortified enough to ride out the storm. Who benefits from the lockdown? Amazon CEO, Jeff Bezos is an outspoken opponent of Donald Trump. He owns the Washington Post, a publication that has been harshly critical of the administration. While the lockdown has been bad for most US businesses, on April 14th, Amazon’s stock reached its all-time high. Amazon is hiring new employees to deliver products, and Bezos has made billions. The big four super-major oil companies that dominate the New York Stock exchange and function like a mini-cartel, are happily watching their competitors in fracking and drilling suffer amidst the oil price drops. With the elimination of frackers, Exxon-Mobile, BP, Chevron, and Shell Oil would walk out of the lockdown with an even more well established monopoly than before. Social media giants are certainly not suffering as Americans sit at home, updating their status, tweeting, posting pictures and watching ads. These types of corporations that already function as a natural monopoly are quite happy to see a large percentage of the US population working from home. Many of the conspiracy theories that claim the pandemic is a hoax focus on Bill Gates, the billionaire founder of Microsoft. Bill Gates is an outspoken Malthusian who believes the human population must be decreased. In the conspiracy theories, Bill Gates has become a stand in poster boy for a faction of the US ruling class long-labelled “The Eastern Establishment.” The Rockefeller Family, whose Standard Oil is now reincarnated as Exxon-Mobile, the Morgans, the Duponts, the Mellons, and the “old money” elite that has been the most powerful faction in US politics for generations, represents a more managerial wing of the American elite. These are the elements that worked with Cecil Rhodes’ Round Table Group, and eventually gave birth to the Council on Foreign Relations. Rockefeller money worked to create the Trilateral Commission, Planned Parenthood, the Asia Society, and many of the other institutions that have crafted US government policy in a long-term and strategic way. These forces favor stability and long-term hegemony over their own short-term economic growth. They are closer to the Intelligence Agencies than the military, and friendlier to Silicon Valley than to retail owners and industrialists. The ideological right-wing has long targeted this wing of American politics, from the 1950s when the John Birch Society accused the Rockefellers of being Communists, up to the rants of Alex Jones denouncing Goldman Sachs and calling for “real capitalism.” These forces have entrenched themselves well enough, and built up enough of a monopolistic position, that the pandemic will not put them out of business. Rather, the pandemic is a convenient way to clear out their competitors and secure their position. As the lower levels of capital bleed, they call out their powerful nemesis with rage, realizing that while they have much to lose, the Eastern Establishment is likely to emerge even more powerful and dominant. What Comes After Lockdown? As restrictions are starting to be lifted across the USA, many questions remain about what will happen. Unemployment, poverty, and hunger are already starting to boil over. Food banks are overwhelmed. Catholic Charities in the Queens Borough of New York City encountered blocks and blocks of desperate people lined up in the hopes of receiving assistance. There is much talk in leftist circles of the 1930s and how the Communist Party USA organized hungry people to confront elected officials and demand relief. Various calls for a “rent strike” and a revival of anti-capitalism is taking place on the left.Voices that were calling for a “universal basic income” to ease economic pain have only gotten louder. Leftist film-maker Michael Moore produced and released a new film called “Planet of the Humans” arguing that economic growth is bad, and that overpopulation is the main the problem causing climate change. Alarm bells are ringing among the circles of power who can see that social unrest is pretty much inevitable. The national suicide hotline reported a 338% increase in call volume during March. Opioid deaths have also risen. The Trump faction, that was already hostile to China, is looking to point the finger of blame at Beijing. Liberal voices also condemn China but in a somewhat softer tone. The divisions among the American ruling class have become thicker than ever, and the scramble for profits is likely to intensify. A burning question for the American elite is how intense will the climate be in the lead up to the Presidential vote in November and how the results will be affected.

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misstinfoilhat · 5 years ago

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The Boy in the Belfry Pt. 1, a Bungo Stray Dogs fic.

The blood was pooling out from underneath the lean body sprawled face down on the pavement of the usually busy street. During the daylight, that is. At night, however, there was hardly a soul that wanted to walk the street where this old church stood. It hovered over the Nabor houses and looked menacing in the shadows of the dim light of the street lamps along the pavement. Its grey facade was cracked from the ages of neglected maintenance.

It took several hours for the body to be discovered by a by-passer on his way to work. The earliest blood had dried onto the sidewalk, staining it with its dark red color as the body was lifted into an ambulance 10 minutes later and rushed to the hospital. ...

Kunikida's phone rung at the Armed Detective Agency, disturbing the bespeckled man from his routine report writing.

«Doppo Kunikida,» he answered with a somewhat annoyed voice. He didn't much appreciate his routines being disturbed by anything unexpected. After a couple of seconds of listening to what was being said on the other end, he seemed to deflate, gaining some curious stares from the rest of the office.

«What's the prognosis? (...) I understand. We'll be right over,» he said, as he cut the line.

«Is something wrong?» Atsushi asked from his seat at one of the desks. Kunikida closed his eyes grimly while crossing his arms and clearing his voice to gather everyone's attention.

«Listen up. That was from the hospital. Dazai was found this morning on the sidewalk, in front of the Shinja church. It looks like he suffered a fall from the belfry,» he informed the rest of the group. «The fool is in surgery right now. They don't know if he'll pull through.»

A simultaneous gasp was heard across the room.

«I'm going to the hospital now, is anyone else coming with?» he asked. The entire group got up, looking at each other with worried faces.

«Well, let's go.» ...

There was nothing unusual about Dazai not showing up for work on time. There was nothing unusual about him disappearing for days on end either, telling no one about his whereabouts. Sometimes he would come back fine, other times he'd show up with his arm in a sling or on crutches. What never changed, however, was him, pretending like nothing ever happened, and they had stopped asking.

There was no reason Kunikida would expect this particular Monday to be any different.

In about fifteen minutes, everyone was gathered in the waiting room at the hospital. Kunukida hadn't released his arms since the phone call. He cursed his idiot partner and his obsession with dying. He knew it was just a matter of time before he was able to find the perfect way to go, but this wasn't the time. There was too much for them to do still.

They waited in silence. Even the president of the ADA, Fukuzawa, was there. It was no secret that Dazai was suicidal, but if everyone in the group took it seriously, was a different question. After some of the secrets of Dazai's mysterious past had been revealed little by little throughout the last couple of years, any doubt Kunikida had, had vanished completely. Dazai wanted to die, and this time, it actually seemed like he might succeed.

After many hours of waiting, a doctor came out to meet with them. He explained with a grim expression that Dazai had slipped into a coma and that they had no idea when or if he would wake up. His injuries were severe, with several bones broken, internal bleeding and severe head trauma. That was just what Kunikida could comprehend, as the doctor used many intricate medical terms unknown to him about Dazai's lungs and heart and whatever. He had heard what he needed to hear anyway. Dazai was alive and needed to stay that way.

«Kunikida-san?» Atsushi asked carefully, breaching the silence in the car. Kyouka and himself were seated in the back, while Kunikida was driving. Kunikida growled something inaudible back, not taking his eyes off the road.

«Do... do you think he did it on purpose?» he asked with a shaky voice.

«Of course he did, that stupid bastard,» Kunikida answered doggedly.

Atsushi's face turned into a hurt grimace and Kyouka placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

«I'm sure he'll be okay.» She tried to smile, but couldn't quite make her high-pitched voice steady enough to sound convincing.

«I hope you're right,» Atsushi mumbled, looking out the window, as the car turned onto the street of where the Shinja Church stood. The area had already been cleaned. The only reminder of what had happened the night before was the dried blood covering the sidewalk that not even the pure force of the pressure washers could flush away.

Kunikida parked his car along the cracked pavement.

«I don't expect you to come with, but I want to take a look,» he said, voice dark and sturdy as ever.

Atsushi peered out the window, only now discovering the faded spot a couple of feet from them. His instant reaction was to gasp and shaking his head furiously, but Kyouka was already out the door. Hesitantly, Atsushi followed.

Hands in pocket, Kunikida investigated the area, while Kyouka looked around the run-down church. Atsushi kept in the background, nervously crossing his arms and hoping they would be done soon.

After a short while, they seemed to have seen all there was to see. There wasn't much to be found anyway, as the police had already cleaned up any sign (that they could) from the failed suicide attempt. ...

In spite of the narrow margins, Dazai woke up five days later. The hospital once again called the ADA, requesting them to come immediately. Everyone had been worried sick about the state of the office's biggest annoyance's health and arrived at the hospital shortly after the call, where the same doctor as before greeted them.

He explained, clearly with a touch of ‘this is every day for me’, about Dazai's current condition.

His back was broken, as well as his left leg and several ribs. He had a cracked skull and several severe lacerations to his body. The doctor made a backhand comment about nasty and badly treated old scars as well, which Kunikida had to admit that he did not entirely understand. Lastly, he informed them that Dazai was on suicide watch, which Kunikida knew his partner was very much accustomed to.

After his report, he let them know that they could finally see the brown-haired man, but only two at the time at most, as Dazai needed to rest. The natural order of things was for Kunikida and Atsushi to go in first.

As they entered the room, it struck Kunikida how bad the situation seemed to be. A heart monitor was beeping steadily, and Dazai's lean form was lying limply in the hospital bed, surrounded by wires and machines to make sure he wouldn't, in spite of his best efforts, die. His body was even more mummified with bandages than it usually was, covering his head and arms, which were the only parts not covered by the light blanket, except for his leg that was raised on a rack with screws sticking out from the bandages after the surgery to try and repair the damages. The doctor had told Kunikida that there was no assurance that it would ever regain full functionality, because of the severity of the injury. The best-case-scenario was that he would walk with a limp throughout his life.

«How are you feeling?» Atsushi asked, hurrying to Dazai's bedside.

«I'm good,» Dazai answered, revealing his usual smile, unaffected by any type of severity of the situation.

«I thought you were done with jumping off buildings after the last time... Though, a church sounds a bit more poetic than a shopping mall,» Kunikida said flatly.

«Huh?» Atsushi asked, clearly not aware of Dazai's many previous suicide attempts.

«You broke nearly every bone in your body, not much unlike now,» Kunikida added gravely.

«Oh, yeah,» Dazai reminisced. «That wasn't any fun. There are definitely better and more creative ways to end your life,» he mused, trying to conceal the pain in his hoarse voice. «You have to stop doing this shit. You almost made it this time.»

«Yeah, too bad,» Dazai frowned. «...Except, I didn't jump.»

«Jumped, leaped, whatever,» Kanukoda mumbled, crossing his arms angrily. «No,» Dazai's voice was nearly more than a whisper. «I didn't jump.»

This time, it was Kunikida's turn to be surprised. Not for a moment, had anyone expected this to be more than another failed suicide attempt. Almost unknowingly, Kunikida took out his notebook, ready to write down any details Dazai could reveal.

«What happened?» he asked, dragging one of the chairs that were placed against the wall to Dazai's bedside. Atsushi followed his lead, sitting back-to-front on the chair and resting his arms on the back.

«I didn't jump off. I got a letter, telling me to meet someone at the top of the bell tower. So I did, I was curious,» he explained in a dry tone as if he was telling them what he had for dinner the day before.

«Who?» Kanukoda asked while furiously scribbling the information into his book.

«No idea. I got there, waited, and the next thing I knew, something whacked me over the head, and I fell,» his shoulders shrugged. «Then I woke up in here.»

«Who would do such a thing to you?» Atsushi asked frightened, with concern in his voice.

«Who wouldn't?» Kunikida and Dazai replied simultaneously.

Kunikida scowled at Dazai while Dazai revealed an amused smile.

«I have a lot of enemies,» he explained with a sheepish grin, not at all affected by the severity of the situation. This was no surprise to Kunikida, but Atsushi seemed more bothered.

«You could have died, Dazai-san!»

«Yeah,» Dazai pouted with a sigh, staring dreamily towards the roof.

«What the hell happened?» Kunikida raised his voice angrily, hitting his fist onto Dazai's bed.

Dazai flinched at the movement of the bed but tried not to show it. He knew that Kunikida or anyone else in the agency would never understand his need to die. If they only knew about his inability to feel any kind of real emotion, truly, maybe they would.

His zest for life had been beaten out of him many years ago. The mafia had turned him into a human weapon. Unfeeling and indifferent. Actually, he was much more intrigued by death than life. His heart was so empty and hollow, no matter how much he tried to fill it with anything, love or pain, it seemed to be eaten up by the darkness of his past. That was the main reason he left the mafia and joined the ADA in the first place. The hope of feeling something real again.

That, and of course Oda.

The pain from his injuries didn't matter. He was sure he had felt much worse before. He didn't like pain, but also, he really didn't care. At this point, his body and soul were completely numb. All he wanted to do was protect the once close to him and make sure that they couldn't be hurt, like him and everyone he had ever... cared about. His friends from the agency, as well as some of the people from the mafia. Many of them had even hurt him in the past. But, he was sure they had their reasons. He was just too lazy to remember them.

Also, whatever the reason that particular person from the belfry had to push him off the tower, didn't matter. Any kind of reasoning, he was sure was justified.

He was a monster, after all. --- I’ll update this once a day, as long as I’m able. I’m currently rewriting this story, which is actually done and posted on fanfiction.net and archive of our own in its finality. I’m not doing rewrite it too much, as I’m actually enjoying seeing how much my writing has improved while writing this. Anyway- I hope you’ve enjoyed part 1 of the Boy in the Belfry fic!

#bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #Dazai Osamu #bsd dazai #dazai centric #fanfiction #fanfic #protective kunikida #protective atsushi #protective chuuya #friendship #injured dazai #hurt dazai #suffering dazai #hurt/comfort #Boy in the belfry #part 1

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timclymer · 5 years ago

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Pregnancy In The Stone Age – Can We Learn Something?

The woman who became pregnant during the Stone Age faced huge risks compared with today’s mother-to-be. There was no way to control bleeding or infection; Caesarean section was not an option. That we survived as a species seems remarkable – until you dig a little deeper.

The outcome of pregnancy depends on the underlying health of the mother, nutrition before and during pregnancy and the threat of infection. In all those areas the woman of 50,000 years ago was better off than her counterpart today. How is that possible in an age when there was no plumbing, no medical care and no protection from infectious diseases?

Better diet, better pregnancy

The primitive woman’s diet was less likely to be deficient in important nutrients than that of today’s young girls. (Ref 1) A study from the University of Cincinnati Medical Center has confirmed earlier reports that adolescent and adult pregnant women take in too little iron, zinc, folate and vitamin E.

A woman who begins pregnancy without sufficient calcium, vitamin D and other bone-building nutrients increases her risk of developing osteoporosis in middle age. But that’s not the end of the story. Her infant may also be at greater risk of fracture in the future. Osteoporosis of middle age is at least partly programmed before birth, especially if the mother smokes and has little physical activity. (Ref 2, 3, 4)

Most laypersons believe that Stone Agers were hearty meat-eaters. Anthropologists know that isn’t so. They lived on a predominantly meat diet for only about 100,000 years, from the time that Homo sapiens developed keen hunting skills until the advent of farming. Before that time meat came from carrion and small game. The bulk of their calories came from vegetables, fruit, roots and nuts.

Plant foods contain everything that a pregnant woman needs, including vitamins, antioxidants, protein and minerals. Modern vegetarians often become deficient in vitamin B12 but small game, birds’ eggs and the deliberate or accidental inclusion of insects in the Stone Age diet provided more than enough of that critical nutrient.

Folic acid deficiency in early pregnancy leads to defective formation of the infant’s brain and spinal cord. Those abnormalities are much less likely among the babies of mothers who receive an adequate amount of folate, at least 400 micrograms per day. So few women eat enough green leafy vegetables to boost their folate levels, the U.S. government requires that manufacturers of baked goods add it to their products.

Obstetricians have been prescribing multivitamins for their pregnant patients for decades but it is only in recent years that studies confirmed the wisdom of that practice. In 2002 the American Medical Association reversed a position of long standing and recommended that everyone, with no exceptions, needs a multivitamin/multimineral preparation every day in order to avoid subtle but health-damaging inadequacies of these nutrients. Taking a multivitamin reduces the risk of congenital defects of the newborn, especially those that involve the heart. Preeclampsia is a serious, sometimes fatal complication of pregnancy. Women whose intake of vitamins C and E is low have a threefold greater risk of that condition. (Ref. 5, 6)

Would these mostly vegetarian early Stone Agers have become iron-deficient? Not likely. Their diet was rich in iron as well as in Vitamin C that facilitates iron absorption. Under those conditions iron deficiency would have been rare. Cereal grains interfere with iron absorption, which explains why iron-deficiency is common in societies that subsist primarily on grains. However, one of the main reasons why Stone Age women were unlikely to be iron deficient is that they didn’t have nearly as many menstrual cycles as modern women do.

In a primitive society the onset of menses is about 5 years later than that of American young women. Modern hunter-gatherers, like the oldest Stone Agers, are either pregnant or nursing during most of their childbearing years and they only menstruate a few times between weaning one child and conceiving another. In those groups breastfeeding does suppress ovulation because it is literally on demand, i.e., every few minutes, even throughout the night. For a modern breastfeeding mother, on demand often means no more frequently than every couple of hours and perhaps once or twice a night after the third or fourth month. Thus menses return in spite of nursing and monthly blood loss continues.

The fish-brain connection

Beginning about 150,000 years ago our ancestors discovered seafood. The increased intake of fatty acids in fish and shellfish initiated the great advance in brain size and complexity that allowed humans to progress more quickly in the next 100,000 years than they had in the preceding million. Enormous gains in toolmaking and the development of language and group communication followed.

The human brain is composed mostly of water but the solid portion is mostly fat. The body can’t manufacture the omega-3 and omega-6 fats that make up so much of the structure of the brain and eye so we need them in our diet. Maternal deficiency of these nutrients, especially omega-3s, prevents the newborn brain and eyes from reaching their full potential. The best source of omega-3 fats is fish; nuts and leafy green vegetables are also good sources.

Omega-3 and omega-6 fatty acids are found in every cell of the body. They allow efficient flow of nutrients, regulate nerve impulses and keep inflammation in the right balance. In a proper diet there is an equal amount of omega-3 and omega-6 fats. That allows the immune system to fight infection, a real threat that humans faced from the Stone Age until the age of antibiotics, a mere 70 years ago.

The advantage to the baby of a diet that is rich in omega-3 fats is obvious but mothers need it, too. Nature protects the unborn infant by tapping into the mother’s stores of omega-3 fats. A woman whose intake of omega-3 fatty acids is low during the months and years preceding pregnancy will develop a deficiency of her own. This becomes worse with succeeding pregnancies if her intake of omega-3s remains low. Postpartum depression affects about 10 percent of women following delivery and it is associated with a deficiency of omega-3 fats. (Ref 7, 8)

The newest epidemic

There is one complication of pregnancy that never occurred in the Stone Age: type 2 diabetes. No disease in modern times has risen so fast. It has increased several-fold since the 1950s; between 1990 and 2001 it rose by 61 percent. Gestational diabetics (Ref. 9) are those who do not yet have the full-blown disease but they cannot process blood sugar (glucose) properly during pregnancy. About half of them will develop frank diabetes in the years following delivery of their infant.

Most of us know type 2 diabetes, which was once referred to as adult-onset diabetes, as the disease that our grandparents developed in their later years. It’s no longer uncommon to find it in adolescents, even in grade-schoolers. As it has dipped into the younger generation it has alarmed – but not surprised – physicians to find that it is no longer a rarity in obstetric practice.

How can we be so certain that the pregnant Stone Ager didn’t have diabetes? This is a lifestyle disease that has three major associations: a low level of physical activity, a diet that is high in refined grains and sugars, and obesity. Those conditions simply didn’t occur during the Stone Age. Their lifestyle demanded strenuous effort. Grains of any sort were not part of their diet because they require tools and controlled heat. Sugar as we know it simply didn’t exist and honey was an occasional lucky find. Obesity would have been non-existent, as it is today among the planet’s dwindling populations of hunter-gatherers.

Diabetic mothers have more complications of pregnancy than normal women do. Their babies are 5 times as likely to die and are 3 times as likely to be born with abnormalities of various organs.

They kept germs at bay

Common wisdom states that Stone Age people were an infection-ridden lot but that simply isn’t true. They had powerful immune systems because of high levels of physical activity and a remarkably varied diet. Between the protective antibodies that a mother passed across the placenta and those that she conferred on her newborn via breastmilk, Stone Age babies had more protection against the germs of the day than modern infants do.

Sexually transmitted diseases don’t spread very far or very fast when people live in small isolated bands as they did during the Stone Age. The likelihood that today’s pregnant female will have at least one of these infections is more than 50 percent (Ref. 10). The impact on babies can be severe; some die, some will be brain-damaged.

Choice and consequences

Tobacco, alcohol and illicit drugs have produced a generation of infants with problems that Stone Age babies never faced. Mothers who smoke have infants that are smaller than the norm and whose brain development may be compromised. Alcohol or cocaine use by the mother during pregnancy results in stunted growth, congenital defects and other severe problems.

Given a choice, none of us would want to live in a Stone Age world but we have neutralized the almost miraculous medical advances of the last century. We have allowed our daughters to be less physically active and to subsist on a marginal diet. If we could reverse those two factors alone there would be a dramatic decline in prematurity and other complications of pregnancy. The lessons that we can learn from the Stone Age are not subtle, obscure or beyond our capacity to imitate them. We can produce the healthiest generation ever by making better choices for our children and for ourselves.

Philip J. Goscienski, M.D. is the author of Health Secrets of the Stone Age, Better Life Publishers 2005. Contact him via his web site at http://www.stoneagedoc.com.

References

1. Giddens JB et al., Pregnant adolescent and adult women have similarly low intakes of selected nutrients, J Am Diet Assoc 2000;100:1334-1340

2 Cooper C et al., Review: developmental origins of osteoporotic fracture, Osteoporosis Int 2006; 17(3):337-47

3 Prentice A et al., Nutrition and bone growth and development, Proc Nutr Soc 2006 Nov;65(4):348-60

4 Lanham SA et al., Intrauterine programming of bone. Part I: alteration of the osteogenic environment, Osteoporos Int 2008 Feb;19(2):147-56

5 Keen CL et al., The Plausibility of Micronutrient Deficiencies Being a Significant Contributing Factor to the Occurrence of Pregnancy Complications, Am Soc Nutr Sciences J Nutr 2003 May;133:1597S-1605S

6 Bodnar LM et al., Periconceptional multivitamin use reduces the risk of preeclampsia, Am J Epidemiol 2006 Sep 1;164(5):470-7

7 Freeman MP, Omega-3 fatty acids and perinatal depression: a review of the literature and recommendations for future research, Prostaglandins Leukot Essent Fatty Acids 2006 Oct-Nov;75(4-5):291-7

8 Kendall-Tackett K, A new paradigm for depression in new mothers: the central role of inflammation and how breastfeeding and anti-inflammatory treatments protect maternal mental health, Int Breastfeed J 2007;2:6

9 Greene MF and Solomon CG, Gestational Diabetes Mellitus – Time to Treat, N Engl J Med 2005 June 16; 352(24):2544-46

10 Baseman JG and Koutsky LA, The epidemiology of human papillomavirus infections, J Clin Virol 2005 Mar;32 Supple 1:S16-24

Source by Philip Goscienski

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loose-teeth-in-adults-blog · 6 years ago

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Loose Teeth In Adults

Gum recession is when the margin of the gum tissue surrounding the teeth wears off, or draws back, exposing even more of the tooth, or the tooth's origin. When gums decline, voids may create in between the gum as well as tooth, permitting disease-causing micro-organisms to accumulate. If left side without treatment, the surrounding cells and also bone tissue frameworks of the teeth could be harmed, at times resulting in tooth loss. Receding gums is a widespread dental problem. Most individuals aren't informed that they have receding gums given that it occurs slowly.

Loose Teeth Adults

Receding Gums Symptoms

As receding gums improvement in time, you may discover the complying with symptoms:

Long Teeth One symptom is actually the apparent stretching of the teeth. When gums recede due to periodontal disease, the teeth have the appearance of being actually much longer than typical.

Left open Roots Exposed origins are actually another symptom, and also could be incredibly vulnerable as well as troublesome. They are actually frequently a sign of gum disease or even could be attributed to brushing excessively strongly along with a toothbrush along with hard rages.

Loosened teeth When suffering from receding gums, you might notice loose teeth, attributed to the micro-organisms and periodontal disease under the gums around the teeth. As receding gums get worse, the gum wallets strengthen due to loss of accessory construct. Reasons For Receding Gums

Numerous factors can easily trigger your gums to decline, including:

Gum diseases

These are gum contaminations, dued to micro-organisms, that ruin gum cells as well as the bone tissue that keeps your teeth in place. Periodontal disease is the main reason for gum recession. The beginning of periodontal disease is rare excruciating, as a result symptoms often go unnoticed. Left behind without treatment though, very early symptoms can easily become periodontitis.

Early stages of gum disease could be seen with small symptoms that consist of:

Red, puffy, or even violet gums Gums that experience tender to the contact Bleeding gums Chronic bad breath

Genes Some individuals are actually even more susceptible to gum disease. Studies present that 30% of the populace might be predisposed to gum disease, regardless of whether they take great care of their teeth.

Brushing also hard If you clean your teeth as well strongly or improperly, it can create your tooth's polish to deteriorate as well as your gums to decline.

Poor dental care Insufficient brushing, flossing, and washing with antibacterial mouth wash, can easily make it quick and easy for plaque to turn into tartar, a difficult drug that bases on and between your teeth as well as may just be gotten rid of by an expert tooth cleaning.

Hormone amounts Adjustments in estrogen levels over a lady's lifestyle, like puberty, pregnancy, and also menopause, may create gums significantly vulnerable and also susceptible to gum recession.

Loose Teeth Adults Home Treatment

Cigarette products Tobacco smokers, and also other tobacco customers, are actually more likely to create unpleasant plaque which can trigger gum recession.

Grinding and squeezing your teeth Squeezing or grinding your teeth may use too much pressure on the teeth, creating gums to recede.

Jagged teeth or a misaligned bite When teeth do not collaborated evenly, a lot of force could be exerted on the gums and also bordering bone, enabling gums to recede. Receding Gums Treatment

Light gum recession could be managed by a qualified deeper cleaning in the afflicted location. In the course of deep blue sea cleansing, oral plaque buildup and tartar is actually cleared away and also the exposed origin location is smoothed over, making it more difficult for micro-organisms to affix on its own. Anti-biotics may additionally be utilized to get rid of any kind of remaining microorganisms.

If a deep cleaning is not ample to manage the condition, due to excess loss of bone tissue as well as deep pockets, receding gums surgical treatment might be actually needed. Concerns About Receding Gums

Q: What induces your gums to decline? A: There are actually an amount of factors that can cause your gums to recede, including gum diseases. These are actually bacterial gum contaminations that damage gum tissue and sustaining bone that accommodate your teeth in position, which is the main reason for gum recession.

Q: How Can I Prevent Gum Recession? A: Taking excellent treatment of your mouth is actually the most ideal method to prevent gum recession. Comb and dental floss daily as well as view your dentist a minimum of two times a year. Your dentist may want to view you more frequently If you have gum recession.

Stopping smoking cigarettes, if you smoke. Eating a healthy and balanced, well-thought-out diet plan. Checking achievable changes to your mouth.

Q: How can I produce my gums more healthy?

Use an electric tooth brush. Brush your teeth correctly, a minimum of twice a day. Utilize a toothbrush along with a tongue scraper. Floss daily. Massage your gums. Utilize a receding gums mouth wash as well as a receding gums toothpaste, with fluoride.

The mouth is actually the gateway to the physical body and also can likewise reveal the very early indications of significant health issue building in various other regions. This is actually why heading to a dental specialist for semi-annual check-ups is very important. One problem to stay on leading of is actually periodontal disease. Usually grouped in addition to gingivitis, it is actually a form of gum disease that may impact other regions of your mouth, featuring your teeth and also tongue. For this reason, teaching your own self on the subject matter, featuring how to avoid it and also how to manage it, is very important.

While organized along with gum disease, periodontitis is actually basically an extra extreme case. Gingivitis starts as gum swelling. If gingivitis goes without treatment, it turns into periodontitis, or even gum disease. Ultimately, the interior layers of the gum start to retreat from the teeth. This forms wallets on either side of the teeth. The rooms accumulate particles brushing your teeth will certainly not consistently clear away, resulting in infection in the gums as well as the gum line to reduce. As the gum line diminishes, the pockets increase the size of, and you run the risk of teeth befalling as well as dealing with other serious oral problems. Root causes of Periodontitis

The major wrongdoer of periodontitis is oral plaque buildup. When oral plaque buildup builds up around teeth, it begins to affect the gums, triggering gingivitis as well as inevitably gum disease. Nonetheless, there are actually second triggers. For girls, hormone modifications because of maternity, menopause or month-to-month menstruation may result in the growth of periodontal disease. Certain types of ailments, ranging coming from diabetic issues to HIV, can easily influence the immune system, resulting in a loss of suppleness in the gums.

How to Tighten Up Loose Teeth?

Some oral kinds of medication possess a side effect leading to the decline of saliva. Saliva is used to safeguard the gums and teeth. Without enough saliva, an irregular growth of gum cells might develop, or it might prevent meals clutter coming from washing down the neck, each of which possesses the potential of inducing the disease. If you clean as well as floss each day yet you still are actually experiencing very early signs of gum disease, you need to see your major medical care physician as you may be experiencing other health care concerns. Periodontitis Symptoms

Do your gums bleed after brushing your teeth? Odds are this is not given that you are actually brushing too hard. It is because of onset of gingivitis. Now, if you only began to use floss once more, you are going to likely see some blood stream because of the irritation it triggers in the gums in the beginning. Nonetheless, this need to only last a quick quantity of your time and also nevertheless, your gums must not hemorrhage merely coming from brushing.

Various other symptoms include swollen gums, the determination of foul breath (or possessing a bad taste in your mouth), shifting teeth and also the accumulation of wallets in between your teeth and also your gums. Atop this, it is actually feasible you actually have gum disease but merely can't observe the ailments, depending upon the region of the gums having to deal with periodontitis. Viewing your dental qualified every 6 months allows you to remain on top of the potential disorder.

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