#much bigger than the global drop

[reasonsforhope]

"Colombia’s congress has voted to change a law that allowed minors to get married with parental consent.

The proposal would make the minimum age for marriage 18, and seeks to protect the rights and development opportunities for minors. It still must be signed into law by President Gustavo Petro.

Currently, the country’s civil code allows person as young as 14 years old to get married with parental consent.

The initial proposal to reform the law – presented in 2023 – used the slogan “they’re girls, not wives” and aimed to prevent young girls from being forced to marry, to be subject to different forms of violence and to miss out on education and development opportunities.

“Minors are not sexual objects, they’re girls,” congresswoman Clara López Obregón said in a statement after the proposal was greenlit.

Child marriage remains a widespread practice worldwide and affects around 12 million girls per year, according to the UN’s agency for children, UNICEF.

But there’s been a global drop in child marriages over the past few years, according to the agency’s statistics. “Ten years ago, one in four young women aged 20 to 24 was married as a child. Today that number has fallen to one in five,” UNICEF said.

In Latin America, poverty is the main factor leading to minors getting married, according to UNICEF."

[txttletale]

Saw a tweet that said something around:

"cannot emphasize enough how horrid chatgpt is, y'all. it's depleting our global power & water supply, stopping us from thinking or writing critically, plagiarizing human artists. today's students are worried they won't have jobs because of AI tools. this isn't a world we deserve"

I've seen some of your AI posts and they seem nuanced, but how would you respond do this? Cause it seems fairly-on point and like the crux of most worries. Sorry if this is a troublesome ask, just trying to learn so any input would be appreciated.

i would simply respond that almost none of that is true.

'depleting the global power and water supply'

something i've seen making the roudns on tumblr is that chatgpt queries use 3 watt-hours per query. wow, that sounds like a lot, especially with all the articles emphasizing that this is ten times as much as google search. let's check some other very common power uses:

running a microwave for ten minutes is 133 watt-hours

gaming on your ps5 for an hour is 200 watt-hours

watching an hour of netflix is 800 watt-hours

and those are just domestic consumer electricty uses!

a single streetlight's typical operation 1.2 kilowatt-hours a day (or 1200 watt-hours)

a digital billboard being on for an hour is 4.7 kilowatt-hours (or 4700 watt-hours)

i think i've proved my point, so let's move on to the bigger picture: there are estimates that AI is going to cause datacenters to double or even triple in power consumption in the next year or two! damn that sounds scary. hey, how significant as a percentage of global power consumption are datecenters?

1-1.5%.

ah. well. nevertheless!

what about that water? yeah, datacenters use a lot of water for cooling. 1.7 billion gallons (microsoft's usage figure for 2021) is a lot of water! of course, when you look at those huge and scary numbers, there's some important context missing. it's not like that water is shipped to venus: some of it is evaporated and the rest is generally recycled in cooling towers. also, not all of the water used is potable--some datacenters cool themselves with filtered wastewater.

most importantly, this number is for all data centers. there's no good way to separate the 'AI' out for that, except to make educated guesses based on power consumption and percentage changes. that water figure isn't all attributable to AI, plenty of it is necessary to simply run regular web servers.

but sure, just taking that number in isolation, i think we can all broadly agree that it's bad that, for example, people are being asked to reduce their household water usage while google waltzes in and takes billions of gallons from those same public reservoirs.

but again, let's put this in perspective: in 2017, coca cola used 289 billion liters of water--that's 7 billion gallons! bayer (formerly monsanto) in 2018 used 124 million cubic meters--that's 32 billion gallons!

so, like. yeah, AI uses electricity, and water, to do a bunch of stuff that is basically silly and frivolous, and that is broadly speaking, as someone who likes living on a planet that is less than 30% on fire, bad. but if you look at the overall numbers involved it is a miniscule drop in the ocean! it is a functional irrelevance! it is not in any way 'depleting' anything!

'stopping us from thinking or writing critically'

this is the same old reactionary canard we hear over and over again in different forms. when was this mythic golden age when everyone was thinking and writing critically? surely we have all heard these same complaints about tiktok, about phones, about the internet itself? if we had been around a few hundred years earlier, we could have heard that "The free access which many young people have to romances, novels, and plays has poisoned the mind and corrupted the morals of many a promising youth."

it is a reactionary narrative of societal degeneration with no basis in anything. yes, it is very funny that laywers have lost the bar for trusting chatgpt to cite cases for them. but if you think that chatgpt somehow prevented them from thinking critically about its output, you're accusing the tail of wagging the dog.

nobody who says shit like "oh wow chatgpt can write every novel and movie now. yiou can just ask chatgpt to give you opinions and ideas and then use them its so great" was, like, sitting in the symposium debating the nature of the sublime before chatgpt released. there is no 'decay', there is no 'decline'. you should be suspicious of those narratives wherever you see them, especially if you are inclined to agree!

plagiarizing human artists

nah. i've been over this ad infinitum--nothing 'AI art' does could be considered plagiarism without a definition so preposterously expansive that it would curtail huge swathes of human creative expression.

AI art models do not contain or reproduce any images. the result of them being trained on images is a very very complex statistical model that contains a lot of large-scale statistical data about all those images put together (and no data about any of those individual images).

to draw a very tortured comparison, imagine you had a great idea for how to make the next Great American Painting. you loaded up a big file of every norman rockwell painting, and you made a gigantic excel spreadsheet. in this spreadsheet you noticed how regularly elements recurred: in each cell you would have something like "naturalistic lighting" or "sexually unawakened farmers" and the % of times it appears in his paintings. from this, you then drew links between these cells--what % of paintings containing sexually unawakened farmers also contained naturalistic lighting? what % also contained a white guy?

then, if you told someone else with moderately competent skill at painting to use your excel spreadsheet to generate a Great American Painting, you would likely end up with something that is recognizably similar to a Norman Rockwell painting: but any charge of 'plagiarism' would be absolutely fucking absurd!

this is a gross oversimplification, of course, but it is much closer to how AI art works than the 'collage machine' description most people who are all het up about plagiarism talk about--and if it were a collage machine, it would still not be plagiarising because collages aren't plagiarism.

(for a better and smarter explanation of the process from soneone who actually understands it check out this great twitter thread by @reachartwork)

today's students are worried they won't have jobs because of AI tools

i mean, this is true! AI tools are definitely going to destroy livelihoods. they will increase productivty for skilled writers and artists who learn to use them, which will immiserate those jobs--they will outright replace a lot of artists and writers for whom quality is not actually important to the work they do (this has already essentially happened to the SEO slop website industry and is in the process of happening to stock images).

jobs in, for example, product support are being cut for chatgpt. and that sucks for everyone involved. but this isn't some unique evil of chatgpt or machine learning, this is just the effect that technological innovation has on industries under capitalism!

there are plenty of innovations that wiped out other job sectors overnight. the camera was disastrous for portrait artists. the spinning jenny was famously disastrous for the hand-textile workers from which the luddites drew their ranks. retail work was hit hard by self-checkout machines. this is the shape of every single innovation that can increase productivity, as marx explains in wage labour and capital:

“The greater division of labour enables one labourer to accomplish the work of five, 10, or 20 labourers; it therefore increases competition among the labourers fivefold, tenfold, or twentyfold. The labourers compete not only by selling themselves one cheaper than the other, but also by one doing the work of five, 10, or 20; and they are forced to compete in this manner by the division of labour, which is introduced and steadily improved by capital. Furthermore, to the same degree in which the division of labour increases, is the labour simplified. The special skill of the labourer becomes worthless. He becomes transformed into a simple monotonous force of production, with neither physical nor mental elasticity. His work becomes accessible to all; therefore competitors press upon him from all sides. Moreover, it must be remembered that the more simple, the more easily learned the work is, so much the less is its cost to production, the expense of its acquisition, and so much the lower must the wages sink – for, like the price of any other commodity, they are determined by the cost of production. Therefore, in the same manner in which labour becomes more unsatisfactory, more repulsive, do competition increase and wages decrease”

this is the process by which every technological advancement is used to increase the domination of the owning class over the working class. not due to some inherent flaw or malice of the technology itself, but due to the material realtions of production.

so again the overarching point is that none of this is uniquely symptomatic of AI art or whatever ever most recent technological innovation. it is symptomatic of capitalism. we remember the luddites primarily for failing and not accomplishing anything of meaning.

if you think it's bad that this new technology is being used with no consideration for the planet, for social good, for the flourishing of human beings, then i agree with you! but then your problem shouldn't be with the technology--it should be with the economic system under which its use is controlled and dictated by the bourgeoisie.

[keferon]

Swerve had thought just getting to interact with Blurr, even just once, would be a dream.  Now…maybe this is waking up.

(Set during Blurr chapter 1)

----------------------

Blurr's presence is infectious, Swerve realizes.  Inside mecha headquarters, the fact that he was joining the mech program had been all anyone could talk about the first few days after it was announced. 

Now though – now the man is only mentioned when absolutely necessary.  No one seems to have much positive to say about their actual interactions with Blurr and so no one is sure they should say anything at all. 

Autographs and pictures from those early meetings are slowly being filed away.  Disappearing from office desks or hidden discretely behind work files and supplies.  The primary sign left of Blurr's new status is in official company memos, announcements, and promotional posters that line the halls.

But the level of attention needed to avoid discussing Blurr in detail means that everything still comes back to revolving around him in the end.  His mere presence in the office has changed the dynamics of mecha irreversibly – influencing even the most casual conversations. 

Don't make everything about Blurr.  Don't talk too much about the impossibility of Blurr's mech.  Don't admit that Swerve is still a little in awe every time he interacts with the man himself.  And definitely don't admit that it hurts that Blurr doesn't seem to care, doesn't know any of their names – doesn't know Swerve's name. 

Swerve is constantly reminding himself of these points.  He wonders whether his colleagues have to do the same, or whether it's just him that can't help but think about the man's presence.  He doesn't know which would be better or worse.  

Swerve isn't sure either whether what's happening inside mecha is better or worse than what's happening in the world outside mecha.  Blurr had already been a global phenomenon – with his own branding and merchandise and crowds of fans (a crowd Swerve had once been proud to be a member of).  Swerve had thought Blurr's presence couldn't get any bigger.

Now, he realizes it can. Blurr is everywhere.  His face stares at Swerve from every street corner and shop window as Swerve drives away from the office.  That polished white smile, gleaming eyes, and perfectly windswept hair is plastered across every billboard Swerve passes.  Every advertisement Swerve hears on the radio seems to involve Blurr in some capacity or another, from Blurr's recommended driving tires to his favorite brand of shirts to…. Swerve shuts off the radio.

Even in the store just trying to do his regular shopping for the week, Swerve can't get away from the man.  He catches himself nearly breaking down laughing in the toothpaste aisle as three different brands with five different formulations each advertise that theirs is the secret behind achieving a smile as perfect as Blurr's.

The sheer ridiculousness of it hits him in full force and overwhelms him.  Because how can they all be Blurr's toothpaste?  How could anyone possibly believe that?

Swerve had believed it once.  The thought sickens him.  The commercialism of it all is sickening.  It leaves a bad taste in his mouth – like he's swallowed something so artificially sweet that it tastes bitter and wrong at the end.  Suddenly, his shopping no longer matters.  All that matters is getting out of here.  Getting away from Blurr's presence everywhere, overshadowing every aspect of his life.

But even when Swerve gets home, Blurr's face stares back at him from old racing posters on the wall.  From Swerve's favorite coffee mug sitting on the counter.  From the action figures carefully place on display shelves.  Swerve had thought just getting to interact with Blurr, even just once, would be a dream.  Now…maybe this is waking up.

Swerve tears the posters from the walls.  Takes the mug off the counter.  Holding it in his hands, part of him is tempted to drop it – see the image of Blurr shatter the same way Swerve's perception of him has.  He can't quite bring himself to do it.

Swerve places the mug in the cabinet, pushing it all the way to the back wall so that it's hidden behind his other dishes.  He gets a box out of the closet and throws the action figures in it.  Drops the torn posters on top.  Swerve spends the next hour scouring the apartment for anything Blurr related.  Shirts.  Running shoes.  The list of merchandise – once a proud collection – becomes an ever growing pile of shame.

When he's finally done, Swerve feels drained, exhausted.  He wipes sweat from his forehead and prepares to pack it all away.  Swerve hesitates for a moment, then turns away from the box and back to his kitchen.  He roots through the cabinet until he finds the mug, pulls it out, and adds it to the pile in the box.

Before he can have any second thoughts, Swerve folds the top down on the box and shoves it aside – hidden in the shadows of a corner, innocuous.  He stands in the middle of his place and takes in the bare walls and empty shelves – plain, boring, lifeless.  But all traces of Blurr and his personality are gone from the space.

Not that it matters.  Blurr's personality is infectious.  And it infected Swerve long before the physical evidence manifested.  Removing that evidence has left nothing but a Blurr shaped hole in Swerve's life. 

Blurr's presence in Swerve's thoughts remains – glaringly obvious as the void between them in real-life. 

The way Swerve feels about the man – the conflict between image and reality, between what Swerve wants to believe and what he knows to be true – remains.

THE WRITING STYLE IS SO TASTY I WANNA SPREAD IT ON MY BREAD HELP

ALSO "Not that it matters.  Blurr's personality is infectious.  And it infected Swerve long before the physical evidence manifested.  Removing that evidence has left nothing but a Blurr shaped hole in Swerve's life. " ThiS GODDAMN MOMENT

Anon you are driving me insane anon. I was already spending a lot of hours rotating these guys in my brain and now I gotta spin them faster because of you and I mean it in the most positive way possible

[nichuuu]

Own

Word count: 4k+ Thank you to @gangplanksorenji for proofreading & editing and @capslocked for the wonderful tips. Luv you guys < 3

Fuck. 

The expletive leaves your mouth right as Hanni’s tongue makes contact against the base of your shaft. She slides up, licking you up from base to tip. It was inane of you to think that the first thing a global icon like Pham Hanni would want to do after a long week was to take a shower, and you only realised this a second after Hanni dropped down to her knees and undid the string of your sweatpants, the former happening a meagre few seconds after she’d entered. Now here she is, her skin still glistening with sweat from her dance practice earlier as she lathers your shaft in spit. 

“Hello.” A simple greeting contrasts the intricate movements of her tongue, the one that swirled and curled around your shaft, slathering every inch of it in glossy, gooey spit. Her voice, her tone—every vowel, every consonant, every word (down to the last syllable), drips with lust. Well she’s needy today, you muse internally. As soon as she stepped through your apartment door, her hands were already on your waistband and chest, forcing the door shut with your body. The wantonness was ever so apparent in those eyes—the ones that looked up at you as she took her time to tease you. Through the jolts of pleasure that shoot up your spine, you manage a strained hey. 

A playful hand snakes up, grabs you by the balls. Her eyes gleam. 

“You’re full,” she comments. The hand begins a gentle massage of your low hanging fruits. “Been holding it in? To unload inside of you, is what you really want to say. Instead, what comes out is just a simple, raspy yep. The electricity in your veins overrides your brain’s functions, rendering you unable to translate your thoughts into words. The source of this problem is, of course, Hanni, but it's not as if she already knew the effect she had on you; the give away was the look of mischief on her face as her small hand wraps itself around your shaft, pumping with slow, teasing strokes as she let her breath linger around the head of your dick. The next question comes after she delivers a small kiss to your member: How long?

As her lips wrap themselves around you, your hands balled into fists against the door. She expects an answer out of you, but there isn’t much room for thinking when there’s a tight seal around your twitching shaft. For a moment, you think about just grabbing on tight to her skull and fucking her face right there and there. Why couldn’t you? Your shaft was already halfway into her mouth, your hands just centimetres away from her head, a simple motion—Reach forward, grip, thrust—was all you needed. But the control that Hanni has over you liquifies that desire, melting it into nothing but a puddle of a notion in your mind. 

“A-A week,” you miraculously manage to reply. Her eyebrows raise, your shaft sliding right back out of her mouth. The twitching meat rests against her cheek as she stares up at you. 

“A week?” Her lips pout as she speaks. You want those pouty, plump lips to shower your cock with kisses so badly. “You must have,” she slaps your head against the soft flesh on her face, “quite the load for me then.”

If she keeps this up, you have a feeling that the load she’ll get will be a lot bigger than what she expected. Of course, you keep this to yourself. You find it congenial to watch as she pumps your cock with your head resting against her cheek. 

“You know what I really want?” It’s a rhetorical question from her really. You knew exactly what she expected from the moment your dick came out of your underwear; I wanna bounce on your dick, I wanna take you in my ass, I want you to fuck me—All variations of the simple message: Fucking ravish me with your cock.

You know what she wanted, down to the last minute detail. Yet you shake your head. This is more than a simple test of your knowledge on her—it’s a game, a game to see who will follow who’s lead. Right now, it is Hanni who is in charge, this unspoken agreement made between the both of you from the moment she took your cock in her mouth. 

She rises from her knees, takes a step closer. Whispers, “I want you to fucking fill me.”

That’s a new one.

In your opinion, the cussing in the sentence was a bit excessive, but it doesn’t take away from the sheer intensity of the lust that bleeds through her words. Then she drags you by the cock, callous in her mannerism as she pulls you towards the couch. Barely ten minutes after she entered your apartment and she’s already getting right to it, and you are genuinely surprised that she didn’t begin her attempts to draw a thick load out of you at the door.

She tosses you onto the couch, then quickly takes her position between your legs. You have to remind yourself to breathe when those lips take you back into her hot, wet mouth; you force yourself to not break right there and then as she draws upwards with her lips and lets them slide over the head of your shaft. She was playing with you, toying with the rock hard meat between your legs to let the blood flow to all the right parts of your body. All you can do is let out a soft drawl—Fuck Hanni—as she slowly kisses up your shaft, doing what you wished she would do while you were still standing at the door. Her lips make contact with your dick more times than you can count. Her eyes sparkle, the corners of her lips upturned into an innocent smile. She’s intentionally breathing a little harder than usual, letting her breath tingle the head of your cock, 

The wink she gives you tells you that she’s about to take you for a ride. She doesn’t disappoint, the groan that rips through your throat being the sordid tell that she’s off to a great start. She lets her lips travel down your length—further and further till she realises that she can’t go down anymore, retraces her steps, goes down again. All of this is rinsed and repeated (and it isn’t done slowly, mind you) as drool accumulates on your cock, the fervent gurgling that emulates from the depths of Hanni’s throat telling you that she’s perfectly fine the way she is. 

Then she adds her hand, fingers twisting around your slick dick in a corkscrew motion: pumping, stroking, fucking milking you to the best of her ability. She’s pushing you past your limits, overwhelming you with all the sensations she would wreak upon you with what she had available. Your first thought was to grab her by the wrist, pump your shaft even faster with those slender fingers, but then she reads your mind, doing it for you better and faster than you could ever imagine. It slides up and down, up and down together with her lips, spit smiling out between the gaps between her fingers. 

Hanni had given you head before (not that it did anything to blunt the utter pleasure that she was able to impart on your body) and it was always done in earnest. She makes it seem so effortless, smooth in her movements and consistent in speed. Many nights you’d receive head from her just like this, but the sight of that jet-black lock of hair bobbing between your legs, the sound of the lewd gurgling and slurping, the feel of that tight seal around your cock that was her lips… None of it ever got old. 

She kept it so fresh, so… Well, not exactly clean.

Your hand finds itself on the top of her head, the familiar motion of pushing down on it each time she bottoms out executed as you always did. Now, it should be noted that Hanni’s a very thorough person. When she cleans, she cleans thoroughly. When she examines, she examines thoroughly. And now, when she sucks dick, she sucks it thoroughly. Her mouth was warm, tight and so very wet. It slicked your shaft with spit, leaving a glistening trail that was repainted and retraced with even more of her saliva, plump pink lips cramming in every bit of cock that she could fit into that hot little mouth, and by god could take you in. 

Like you said—She was so very thorough. 

Her eyes—those dark brown orbs that reflected nothing but lust—stay trained on you, beseeching you to keep your attention on her as she slobbered on your shaft. Her tongue cushions your base, the top of her mouth directing your cock into her throat. She moves deftly, taking you in and out of that mouth with measure, fervent and pace. Hungry is your initial word to describe her, but then it quickly changes to needy, then to fervour. Finally, you settle on Impatient, because that was the best way to describe her style. 

She was always impatient. Her style was never a gradual ramp up in pace, but rather “fast and stay fast”. The word “”slow” didn’t exist in Hanni’s books, nor did the word “patience” (though you personally wished that they would sometimes). Every motion had to be done quickly and swiftly. There was no room for child’s play. Yes, she could tease. Yes, she could take her time if she really wanted to.  But there really was no need for all of that at the moment, not when she’s bobbing her head between your legs with such gusto.

The black locks bob rhythmically between your spread thighs (there’s no cessation to this allegro) as she takes your shaft in and out of the wet, warm cavern of her mouth, her tongue swirling around the sensitive flesh in random patterns, each entry and exit into her lips sending spikes of pleasure from your crotch to the rest of your body. Every so often, a moan would emit from the depths of her throat, sending pleasant vibrations down your shaft and up your spine. You grunted, groaned and sighed; she gurgled, gagged (every now and then) and hummed. The electricity that courses throughout your body is breathtaking. Now you start to think of a word to describe this feeling.

Heaven. Yeah, that was the word to describe it.

You never realise that your eyes closed themselves, but they snap open when your shaft leaves her mouth with a slick, wet pop. For a second, you thought that it was over. Then you realise that you’re far from callow when it comes to dealing with Hanni, and that she’s probably about to escalate things to another level. You’re only proven right when she wipes the spit from the corners of her mouth and rises to her feet. 

As she strips, you start to take back what you said about Hanni being impatient. To be clear, she was impatient a good majority of the time. Now however, she seemed to be in the mood for a little bit of slow play. Her baggy shirt slowly rises, the hem going past her waist, then her belly button—continues painfully slowly till you see the elastic band of the sports bra that she has on. Then with a grin, she slings it off her body. Her pants are next, displacing in the opposite direction as her shirt at the same, painfully slow rate. Bit by bit, layer by layer, her garments slowly come undone. It drove you to the brink of delarity. If it were up to you, you’d have stripped her, got her on her back with her knees against her shoulders and railed her till you both came in a sweaty heap–and she would’ve let you do just that, but you didn’t.

With a very slight sashay in her hips, she saunters over. She straddles you, thighs on either side of you as she settles down. Your cock nestled snugly in the space between those plump asscheeks, the ones that you lightly spank, then lightly squeeze. Now the formalities come back into play; her lips hover over yours for a brief second before they gently drop to meet yours. She kisses you, softly, gently. For a moment (and just that moment), you forget that she was creating a sloppy mess between your legs just mere minutes ago.

Her hand—It snakes through your hair, slides down to your face, cups if for a second. Then the other slithers up your chest, stopping right at the collar before it gently tugs at your shirt—Take it off, she’s telling you. 

Your hand—Lingers on the firm flesh of her asscheeks for just a moment more, then slides over to the hem of your shirt. The other one slips in, hoisting the thin fabric up and over your head. Then they skate up her sweat-slicked, tight body. They travel up in the same direction and slow fashion of her shirt just moments ago: slowly rising, going past her waist, then her belly button–Continues painfully slowly till you reach those soft, ample mounds that sit proudly atop of her chest. 

Then they squeeze.

Her body—It jolts as her breasts are given the attention they long for, a soft sigh leaving her lips. It leans forward ever so slightly, receives kisses from you on the jaw, then the neck. As it flushes against you, she whispers into your ear, “I’ve been waiting for this…”

Your thumb finds the sensitive nub on her opening. “Oh yea?”

“In the dorm…” she trails off for a moment when your thumb begins to rub her clit in small, circular motions, but then she gets back on track, “I always think about riding you till my legs give out.”

You could picture it clearly in your head: Hanni, curled up under her covers in the dorm, her hand between her flushed thighs and another over her mouth as she fingers herself. She moans your name silently, careful not to disturb the others with her raunchy fantasies. 

“What else do you think about?” You’re curious to know more.  

She falls silent for a moment, enjoying the feeling of your thumb entertaining her clit for just a second, then she says, you.

There it is: the shameless confession. For the record, you knew that she’d get naughty with herself while she was away from you, she sent you videos—that you could only view once—of her playing with herself in the bathtub of her dorm before. Sometimes, an exclusive video comes in; her leg would be on the bathroom counter, her phone in her right hand while the left works itself between her legs. Quietly and just for the camera, she’d moan your name, and it turns you the fuck on.

“And what exactly do you think of when you think of me?” you press. 

Another moment of silence. The admissions spew forth: I think about you folding me in half and fucking me. I think about you bending me over the kitchen counter. I think about you pinning me against the wall. I think about—

She would’ve gone on forever if it didn’t shut her up with a kiss. You consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, she imagines all of this while dancing on stage in front of millions of fans, or when she’s in the practice studio learning the steps to the next big hit that they’re about to comeback with. The endless possibilities deluge your mind as you start bringing your kisses down to her jaw, then to her neck.

It's when your lips reach her collar bone that Hanni finally decides to let those hands snake down and grasp on to your cock. It’s when your sigh washes up against her skin that she raises herself up on her knees. She lines you up with her slit, letting you feel the heat of her womanhood as she gently grinds her pussy against the head.

When she sinks down, you feel like blacking out. The tightness, the heat… Fuck, you couldn’t even get started on how wet she is. Your fingers dig into the soft flesh of her small waist, a sharp exhale forced out of your lungs like a bullet; a guttural moan for Hanni. You’re in perdition barely a second after you get inside of her, and she’s sure as hell not giving you time to adjust. 

Then she’s riding you, fast and hard. Her hands grip your shoulders, her head tilted back. She barely gave you time to adjust to the tightness of the flesh around your cock before she’s moaning like her life depends on it. Your name—amongst the expletives and exclamations that tumble out of her mouth—rings clear in your ears, her arms wrapping around the back of your neck, holding you in place like her frenzied movements would make you start moving away. 

Then for the next few minutes, it’s just fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck that punctuates each entrance, the same lips that delivered the sloppiest of blowjobs just minutes prior parting to let such filth fly forth without much of a filter. She crushes those same lips with yours, kissing you vehemently, hungrily. You think for a second about involving some tongue, but that plan quickly goes to waste when her lips tear away from yours to let out another stream of gasps. 

She was so hot, so utterly tight and wet around your cock, her hips and thighs moving with such perfect rhythm that it was quite literally breath stealing. In the sheer intensity of it all, your hands stayed on her hips, but she grasps your left hand and brings it to a needy, bouncing breast, her fingers pulling yours around her tight nipple, closing around it and squeezing it, clutching the needy, wanton flesh and eliciting a sigh from her lips. She brings your other hand to her face, making you cup it in a tender, ginger fashion that heavily juxtaposes the raw sex that was happening in the midst of it. In a way, it was cute, but only a little. 

In the midst of the overwhelming intensity, you find her right breast, catch it mid bounce and send it straight into your mouth. What left Hanni’s mouth was not exactly a moan, but rather a mewl, one that was high-pitched and so erotic that you wished that you were recording this. Moan louder for me, Hanni is what you wish you could tell her while your mouth sucks on her tit, but alas, one mouth can only handle one thing at a time. You settle with the sighs and cries that make her sweaty chest vibrate ever so slightly, content with the way her voice was getting more and more hoarse from moaning by the second. 

She grips you–roughly–on the back of your head, fingernails digging into your skull as she forces your face deeper into her cute little chest. She’s trying desperately, licentiously, to push her mound deeper into your mouth. Then the other hand slinked to your neck, pushing it towards her while she let an even louder cry rip through the air. You ponder on being playful–deliver a small nibble to the flesh that had been impelled into your jaws, or maybe suck on it hard enough to mark it. But when the oh fuck I want to touch myself leaves her mouth, you decide to divert your attention to back to her clit. Your thumb takes its original position, the pad of your finger swirling it in just the right way to make the flesh around you tighten.

When your jaw gets tired, you let the glistening tit pop out of your mouth. “Fuck Hanni,” you decide to quip, “you’re taking this cock so well.”

Her eyes tear away from the ceiling—which she’d been staring at for the past minute or so—to lock on you. Then in a raspy, airy drawl, she replies—This pussy was made to take your cock.

She could be quippy when she wanted to, and she could definitely be overtly lecherous when she desired to. In this case, she’s a combination of both. The slight tinge of haughtiness in her voice tells you: This cock is mine and mine alone, and I’m gonna ride it till I cum. Then there was the generous dash of want in that honey-like voice that says: I love this cock, I love the way it fills me up and stretches me out. It’s gonna make me cum so fucking hard. 

A woman of multitudes is what she is, and sex only brings out a few of her many layers. As she bounces atop of you, taking your cock in and out of her hot, slick pussy while she moans and gasps and sighs, you realise how content you are with seeing this wanton, needy and dominant side of her. And as she starts going down on you harder and faster, you come to realise how hot this whole situation is. 

Cause picture it this way: A cute, bubbly and pretty Hanni, bouncing relentlessly on your rock hard length that’s slicked with her spit and juices, moaning fervently as she rides you like you’re one of her sex toys, her tits bouncing atop her chest and her thighs quivering around you. It was one of those nights that she felt like being in control, one of those nights where she really just wanted to ride out all of her pent up stress and frustration as she cries, I own this fucking cock. You were more than happy to be her outlet. 

“Oh fuck… Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.” That’s all she Hanni can manage as she starts going even faster, crashing down on you even harder. Her hands slip off your body, reaching behind her back and grabbing on to her ankles. She’s relying on her knees to hoist herself up now, and counting on your hands to hold her steady while she fucks herself on your cock. You’re relying on your self control to hold you back from cumming at the titillating sight. 

Her body—curves deliciously in this new position, her flat, toned tummy arching towards you and her head tipping back just slightly past her feet. She feels tighter, hotter, (and somehow) wetter around your cock, soft ‘ah’s floating out from that pretty little mouth. She’s playing with you once more, testing the waters to see what it’ll take to drive you feral. “You like my body don’t you? You’re… You’re so fucking turned on by this fucking body, right?”

“God yes.” 

“You wanna fucking ruin it so bad, huh?” She’s looking you dead in the eye. “Wanna get me on my back,” she bends back further, “and shove this thick fucking cock into this tight fuckdoll don’t you?”

You contemplate just hoisting her up into the air and making her ride you while you are standing, picturing the sight of her face dropping and rising in front of your face as the full length of your shaft spears deep into her tight and wet walls. But when… 

“But when” what?

Up till this point, there was always something stopping you from doing as you pleased. Now however, you couldn’t find anything to stop you from succumbing to your desires–and so you do, scooping your hands beneath that plump ass and rising to your feet. 

“H-Hey!” she yelps in surprise as she’s hoisted into the air. She was a lot heavier than she looked

“What’s wrong?” you challenged, adjusting your grip on her small frame to offer her better support. “Can’t own this cock while you’re standing up?”

She recognises the challenge, straightens her back before you. 

“I can own this cock in any position.” Her tone is unwavering, her ass shifting slightly in your grasp as her legs wrap themselves around you. A dark look crosses her face in the form of a bright grin. With the assistance of gravity, she lets herself fall slightly, rock hard meat driving straight up her hot, wet cunt. The wide-eyed, mouth agape complexion of surprise takes her face as she’s filled to the brim. A shrill, breathy cry shoots out from her chest; it’s music to your ears as you start thrusting upwards and into her waiting walls, the same ones that squeeze down harder around you as the head of your cock starts to knock against her cervix. 

Fuck, is all she can manage to get out before she’s throwing herself down onto your cock. She takes you in—down to the hilt, balls deep—hard and fast, not sparing a single second to catch her breath. Her moans are fragmented, split into different tones as she rises and falls on your dick—sometimes passionate and shrill, other times deep and guttural. She’s maximising her output energy for more pleasure, converting that pleasure into energy that powers the sinful rock of her hips each time she takes you in. Then she’s screaming: Oh god, Oh my fucking god, crying: You’re so deep. I can’t fucking take it!, gasping: You’re gonna–I’m gonna–Oh fuck I’m…

But it’s the declaration that really gets you, the one where she screams into your ear: Oh fuck, I’m cumming!

Just like that, Pham Hanni comes undone as she cums. The orgasm that cuts through her body is terrifyingly violent, but oh-so-wonderful to watch as tight, hot flesh spasms around your cock and that pretty little body convulses in your arms. For beautiful seconds, she is utterly overwhelmed by the sensations, until finally she slumps forward in your arms, breathing heavily. You take that moment of vulnerability to get her on her back, spreading her flushed, trembling thighs and pumping into her body once again. She lets you do that—not that she could fight it in her current state—as she wraps her arms back around your neck and whispers, “Be good… Fill me.”

Then nothing else matters for the next few minutes. Only Hanni’s body exists in the long minutes where you fervently pump your shaft between her legs. She looks so good beneath you, her pussy swallowing your cock whole and her tits spilling out through the gaps of your fingers because of how hard you’re holding on to them. Through her soft, horse moans, she eggs you on: Come on baby, give me that nice big load… Cum in me then fuck it deep inside of me. You know you want to. 

Then she pulls you close, breathing on your ear, imploring you, “Please, please, please cum inside your little fuckdoll… I want it so bad.”

And so you do—burying yourself as deep inside her as you can before finally letting the pleasure overwhelm you. Your cock pulsates as it fills with semen before spurting thick, hot ropes of cum deep inside Hanni’s tight, grasping pussy. She lets a soft moan escape her lips with each spurt, as though welcoming it, as though each one were something she long wanted and needed.

After you empty yourself inside her you withdraw your still stiff, cum-slick cock halfway out of her body before thrusting back in, letting your cock stir the load inside her, saturating her walls, making her already drenched and dripping pussy even more of a sloppy mess. She lets little sighs of pleasure and contentment leave her lips as you take your liberties with her hole, relishing the warm wetness of your cum inside her as you take your last few thrusts into her body, pushing the thick load that she’d been waiting for deep into her. 

You only ever stop moving after your arms give out. You crash atop of her, your ragged breaths hardly in sync with hers as you feel the soreness begin to creep up from your feet to your thighs. Softly, gently, she nuzzles herself into the crook of your neck and breathes, thank you.

You raise your head just enough so that your mouth is next to her ear. “Welcome back.”

[coffee-mage-sans-caffeine]

Antivaxxers are not responsible* for the current pertussis outbreak. In fact, rich countries are! Here's how:

Whooping Cough, also called pertussis is back in a big way in the US right now. Other nations are also seeing outbreaks, particularly 'rich' or 'first world' or 'developed' nations. Wait what? Rich countries are having a bigger increase in whooping cough than countries with limited healthcare infrastructure? You're probably thinking 'ah, it's the antivaxxers, isn't it?' While they're contributing to the problem, but no, they're not in fact THE PROBLEM. In fact, even fully vaccinated people in rich countries are at risk for pertussis. The first thing to understand is that there are two 'generations' of pertussis vaccine available at present. Both are given in combination with tetanus and diphtheria vaccines. As far as I know, tetanus, diphtheria and pertussis are given together in every mainstream formulation of pertussis vaccine globally. The OG (first gen) pertussis vaccine was the DTP vaccine which contains a whole cell inactivated pertussis bacteria so when it is given, the body develops a robust immune response to every antigen (the thing your body can learn to make antibodies to recognise) on the surface of the pertussis bacteria. It is still used in countries where money is tight because it's cheaper to make and the immune response is robust and long-lasting--5-10 years depending on your source. Unfortunately, side effects were higher with the OG. Some children spike high fevers causing febrile seizures (which are terrifying even though they're benign), arm pain is more intense, and people feel worse after getting it. A miniscule number of children given the OG suffer encephalitis and more serious neurological effects, though most cases self-resolve. In rich countries, as the incidence of pertussis (and diphtheria and tetanus) fell with robust vaccination programs, people became more and more afraid of the side effects of the DTP vaccine. Those side effects sound scarier when there's lower risk of pertussis. There were also ever-growing antivaccine movements because since there has been inoculation (a precursor medical practice to vaccination that goes back all the way to ancient China) there have been opponents inoculation and vaccination. Antivaxxers are not new and modern. They have always been there and they were PISSED about the encephalitis. So both antivaxxers and provaxxers who were starting to forget how scary it is to watch a baby with pertussis said 'we need a better option'. This brings us to 2nd gen vaccines, the acellular pertussis vaccines DTaP and Tdap. The little a stands for 'acellular', meaning that there is no longer a whole dead bacteria cell as our antigen. We use specific cut-up antigens instead. Most formulations use 3-5 different antigens. This results in much lower side effects! Immunity without side effects is the goal! The problem is that this vaccine doesn't last as long. In fact, for 0-10 year old children, 98% are immune at 1 year after vaccination while 81% are immune at 5 years after vaccination. For 11-20 year olds, those numbers drop to 72% at one year and 42% at 5 years after vaccination. For people who are older, those numbers drop even faster. And the acellular vaccines aren't as good at preventing infection--they're more like the covid vaccines in that rather than stopping infection, they make the symptoms less bad. And those 3-5 antigens in the acellular vaccine are becoming less common on the surface of the bordatella pertussis bacteria. Yup. It's out-evolving the vaccine. So where does this leave us? 1) Make sure your pertussis vaccine is up to date. This protects you against the effects of a very serious illness. 2) If you have been exposed to pertussis TALK TO YOUR DOCTOR ABOUT PROPHYLACTIC ANTIBIOTICS. After an hour in a room with someone who has pertussis, if your body doesn't have sufficient immunity there's up to a 90% chance of you getting it and you will be sick for months. This is one of the ONLY CASES EVER where you should be getting prophylactic antibiotics. Usually, I would say do not get prophylactic antibiotics. This is a special case.

3) If a third gen vaccine comes out (many are in development), update your pertussis shot! 4) IF YOU FEEL SICK AND HAVE A COUGH, STAY HOME. If you cannot stay home, then you should wear a well-fitted disposable n95, kn95, or surgical mask (in order of preference) at all times around other people. 5) Mask in crowded public spaces and on airplanes even if you feel well.

[ihaveforgortoomany]

So Willow's Trailer has dropped now:

Mini discussion (ill have a bigger post later) which is global friendly as I only talk about the Uluru Games.

I theorise that London is currently been reversed to the 1950s, after the 1966 Storm (similar to how Semmelweis visited Vienna in her anecdote at a point later than 1914 after it experienced a Storm)

Her trailer seemingly confirms that the Uluru Games are probably still being primarily held in Australia, but preliminaries and qualifiers are held in different countries. The way Tooth Fairy words it sounds like she is but one of the London qualifiers for the floor ritualist event (the equivalent of ballet Im assuming).

As Merui mentioned 1952 around this time saw the conception of the Paralympic Games, so our focus is not on the Olympic games conception or revitalisation (1.5 Uluru Games with Ulu and Spathodea) but the arcanist equivalent of the Paralympic Games.

(Although TF and Z talk about the Games very much in the present, when even is this? Probably after 1.9 and 1.5 but Im not sure)

(Before someone says wait a sec what about Darley Clatter they let a literal walking toy horse participate in 1.5 how is Willow with a prosthetic leg special? - likely the difference is that her accident led to her leg being impaired, Im assuming its amputed? Whereas Darley Clatter is more or less "whole", idk if Im wording it correctly)

Willow's surname O'Hagen sounds Irish? I would like to see if ever she interacts with Druvis at some point.

[thesweetestdevotion]

https://www.tumblr.com/thesweetestdevotion/761276923476361216/can-u-do-reading-for-2025-is-it-gonna-be-better?source=share

like general collective? like are we gonna get another corona etc? 🫣

i'd love to! thanks for requesting a general reading, its the first one ive done here, youre a lil trailblazer hehe!

2025 General Collective Reading

Dice: Mars, Aries, 6th house

Tarot: Five of Swords, Ace of Cups, Four of Wands, Two of Coins Reversed, Seven of Coins Reversed, Ten of Coins, Queen of Cups Reversed, Five of Wands, Strength, Three of Wands

im getting a lot of downloads right now... like back to back (usually i get a few spread out as i read) im just going to tell it how i see it and feel it, however please be aware that i am not infallible! especially with a big energy like this, im not capable of acessing all of what is going to happen next year, so ill just state what i see right now.

As i was holding the dice in my hand i saw red, literally (my room is entirely blue so...) and then i dropped the dice and got Aries, Mars, and 6th house... guys this is literally war. let me explain, Aries is the 1st sign of the zodiac and is fire, ruled by mars. With aries showing up with mars (planet of war) and 6th house (house of open enemies, the exaltation of mars), im feeling like we might be dealing with conflicts and tensions worldwide. Now this does not signify WW3, dont freak out at all. but im seeing that several countries will make new alliances with each other and we might see the rising of a new world power(powerful country) come on the global stage. This also goes along with the five of wands, im seeing arguments and small conflics here and there that are building tension in the collective energy, this could lead to a war but i just cant see that far out. i felt like spirit smacked me in the head loll maybe im trying to see something much bigger than i can describe here, also protests? i just heard. New trade deals, routes, and more are being discussed. sales of arms, weapons, artillery, these things will be prevalent as the year progresses.

now for the human collective, im seeing that our relationship to labour is coming to front stage. Two of Coins Reversed, Seven of Coins Reversed, Ten of Coins, Queen of Cups Reversed, all these cards speak to how we relate to our work and labour. Im seeing alot of emphasis on proper compensation, labourers rights, work-life balance, surging prices, costs of living, all of these topics have been relevant for a few years now, but im seeing in 2025 things are going to boil over. The sixth house is also the house of daily labour and work, and with mars showing up there, we will see a lot of sentiments about finding meaningful work that is fair and pays well and allows individuals to cover their living expeses without worries. i think the previous mentioned protests could have something to do with this, but maybe not irl protests, but just people's voices being heard and their concerns finally being taken serious. I think the collective is longing for stability (i know im one of them) and next year makes me feel hopeful that we will finally have a change in the right direction, however small it is.

Another thing im seeing is an emphasis on foreign travel. we might see more people migrating out of their countries in search for new opportunities (im not seeing a specific country just a general energy) im also interpreting this as implementing foreign inspired ideas, laws, regulations, etc. like some countries are seeing the succesful laws of overseas and saying lets give this a try. Marriage law?? this just jumped out, which makes sense with the four of wands here.

also something about women is becoming relevant, idk if it is also legislation or maybe a new collective energy being embraced by women. I feel upset rn all of a sudden ugh. something about motherhood, love, emotions, femininity, nurturing, relationships. this energy is so muddled though i cant see thru it as of now.

The overall energy is that of the Strength card, which tells me there is an emphasis on building things, beating enemies, and destroying barriers and limitations. I feel hopeful for 2025 but i dont think itll be an easy year(when has it ever been hehe)

I hope you enjoyed this reading! lets all come back in a year, you can yell at me if i was wrong lol (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

[poorrichardjr]

Okay, about the "climate refuge" thing. Technically, much of the Appalachians would still be considered that. Hurricanes usually die out by the time they hit the mountains. The thing is, the valleys in much of this area are prone to floods when we get enough rain. Combine that with strong winds, which many of my neighbors said were a lot stronger than they had ever seen, and you get slides and downed trees everywhere. All that slides right into the waterways damning things up which makes the flooding so much worse.

If you've never been to this region, a defining characteristic for much of it is fairly steep drop offs on many roads and thin layers of soil over rocky terrain. Rock slides are common, just as they are out west. Get a good rain and you can see bigger trees lose their footing and slide right down the hills into the roads. In this area this summer, we have had a lack of rain, but in the last week, we had a lot leading up to the hurricane.

The good thing about this area is that we rarely have tornadoes, drought, or earthquakes. Not saying it never happens, but these things are less likely than in other parts of the country. No area of the country is going to be super safe from climate change. Sadly, by the time that most of the people realize that, it may be far too late to do anything about it.

[iidolomantis]

Mass Extinction Events Ranked By How Hot They Are

in my biology class earlier today the five mass extinction events were brought up, and i had to refrain from clapping and cheering. this is a list curated on passion.

DISCLAIMER: extinction events are not bad. extinction is, in most cases, a completely normal, morally-neutral evolutionary thing that just happens. human-accelerated extinction is not great, but background extinction is a process that is always happening. every mass extinction event in the past was necessary for life to get where it is today. please don’t get weird on my post. i just think it’s neat.

6. The Holocene Extinction - Right Now - TBA* - Habitat loss, overhunting, climate change boring. L. only extinction event caused by a single species (us). really just unoriginal. we’re not even directly killing most of them we’re just speeding up the background extinction rates. no pizzazz, no style. 0/10.

5. The Late Devonian Extinction - 372 mya - 70% of all species - Unknown this one is low for two reasons: one, we’re still trying to figure out what actually happened to explain the rapid drop in biodiversity, and while some people might find ambiguity attractive, i prefer honesty and emotional vulnerability. two, it was pretty centered on the oceans alone, and i want a little bit of flexibility, y’know? expand your range. i know you have potential. 3/10.

4. The Triassic-Jurassic Extinction - 201mya - 76% of all species - Volcanic eruptions leading to global warming and acidic oceans there’s been some debate about the cause of this one, but general scientific consensus agrees that those dastardly volcanoes are to blame. i’ll admit, i hold some fondness for this one just because it was kinda what allowed dinosaurs, crocodylomorphs, and pterosaurs to become top dog in the ages following. the whole ‘volcanic wasteland’ thing is also just a classic, though it loses some points for just doing the same thing but worse as its immediate predecessor (see no.2). some originality would be nice. 5/10.

3. The Ordovician-Silurian Extinction - 445 mya - 85% of all species - Rapid successive climate changes hey, this one’s for all the gilf lovers out there. this one is old, and while it would actually be more accurate to say 85% of all marine species, that’s just because most complex life hadn’t even gotten to land just yet. it’s also a little on the mysterious side. we know glaciation (leading to an ice age) caused the initial event, but what caused the glaciation? it’s trying to open up, but there are some skeletons in the closet. could be hot! 7/10.

2. The Permian-Triassic Extinction (aka the Great Dying) - 252mya - 90% of all species - Volcanic eruptions leading to global warming, toxic atmosphere, and sulfurous oceans for this one, i gotta give points on the name alone, y’know? i WISH that was my highschool nickname. also massive points just for being the biggest. i mean, 57% of all biological families. 81% of all marine species and 70% of terrestrial vertebrates… kind of an overachiever! hot! the OG world-ending volcanic wasteland. 9/10.

1. The Cretaceous-Paleocene Extinction (aka the K-pg extinction) - 66mya - 75% of all species - Asteroid impact followed by nuclear winter and volcanic eruptions you know her. you love her. that’s right, coming in at number one is THE ASTEROID THAT KILLED THE DINOSAURS**, BABEYYYYYY!!!! this one might not have been the biggest or most devastating, but you CANNOT deny the style of it. a rock bigger than mount everest, faster than a bullet, streaking in from the heavens? i can only hope whatever eventually takes us humans out has half as much flair. 10/10.

*we’re still in the predictions phase of actual numbers for this one, but current estimates put us at driving extinction rates up to 1000x faster than the norm since 1900, and 1 million out of 8 million species is currently threatened with extinction. bad!

**non-avian dinosaurs, specifically. birds are dinosaurs and doing just fine, mostly, except for the asterisk just above this one. um.

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from the New York Times:

A rising tide and a bigger pie: Economic growth has long been considered such an obvious boon that it’s pursued by governments across the world as a matter of course. But in 2016, when a London professor warned an audience in Newcastle that Brexit would lead to a precipitous drop in Britain’s gross domestic product, that well-worn measure of economic activity, one woman’s heckling caught him by surprise. “That’s your bloody G.D.P.,” she shouted, “not ours!”

The eruption tapped into a suspicion supported by reality: Gains in economic growth have too often buoyed the fortunes of the richest instead of lifting all boats. Prosperity even in the most prosperous countries hasn’t been shared. But all the attention to inequality is just a crack in the edifice of economic orthodoxy. Now a much more radical proposition has emerged, looming like a wrecking ball: Is economic growth desirable at all?

Less than two decades ago, an economist like Herman Daly, who argued for a “steady-state economy,” was such an outlier that his fellow economist Benjamin Friedman could declare that “practically nobody opposes economic growth per se.” Yet today there is a burgeoning “post-growth” and “degrowth” movement doing exactly that — in journals, on podcasts, at conferences. Consider some of the books published in the last several years: Tim Jackson’s “Post-Growth: Life After Capitalism,” Kate Soper’s “Post-Growth Living,” Giorgos Kallis’s “In Defense of Degrowth,” Vincent Liegey and Anitra Nelson’s “Exploring Degrowth,” Jason Hickel’s “Less Is More: How Degrowth Will Save the World.” The proliferation of the term is as good an indicator as any: The literature of degrowth is growing.

In 1972, the French theorist André Gorz coined the word décroissance to ask whether “no-growth — or even degrowth” in material production was necessary for “the earth’s balance,” even if it ran counter to “the survival of the capitalist system.” Gorz was writing the same year that “The Limits to Growth” was published, a report by a group of scientists warning that surges in population and economic activity would eventually outstrip the carrying capacity of the planet. “The Limits to Growth” was initially met with skepticism and even ridicule. Critics pointed to humanity’s undeniably impressive record of technological innovation. As one representative economist put it, “Our predictions are firmly based on a study of the way these problems have been overcome in the past.”

And so degrowth remained on the fringes of the fringe for decades, until increasing awareness about global warming percolated into public debates in the early aughts. The realization that we hadn’t innovated our way out of our ecological predicament, along with inequalities laid bare by the 2008 financial crisis, fueled a more widespread distrust of the conventional capitalist wisdom. Maybe relentless economic growth was more poison than panacea.

[ashadowofburnedoutstardust]

Well anon you probably need to try reading something other than American controlled news

The USA has been exposed by Julian Assange helping to not only fund war crimes but also fund them and other foreign wars in order to launder money through wars in Afghanistan, Iraq, and more than likely had been doing the same through the Occupied State of Palestine since it's inception

The fact that DeBeers is actually based in the Occupiers territory and the vehement defense of it by its accomplice the United States did not escape me either given the "Blood Diamond" history as well as the artificial control and supply of them resulting in a monopolistic global price gouging it's safe to day they have been using them to also help fund their wars in the middle east

The rest of the Globe is currently trying to stop them via the International Criminal Court while the USA used it's veto to continue the Genocide while the Occupiers have been caught trying to sell permits to mine for the oil and natural gas resources within the Occupied State of Palestine

It honestly makes me wonder where all that money that CAA had to fundraise by selling a major stake to Pinault actually went, and why Hollywood has been trying to control some of those with much bigger platforms to prevent them from speaking out by blacklisting people who speak out against it

They've been using Hollywood to help fund their wars as well as provide the propaganda to cover it in the media, hence the timing of the celebrity news drops like the fake wedding of Chris Evans and the entire Taylor Swift relationship along with the Superbowl being used as a distraction for whenever they needed

Unfortunately social media has outed them during this entire process

The KOSA bill is designed to help the US govt to track and identify dissenters, much like they did and have been trying to do to Assange

[hrodvitnon]

Just wanted to share a random Monsterverse theory/headcanon that recently occurred to me, regarding how some truly enormous fossilized Titans like the one that Kong & Suko climb across at one point in GxK could have come to be.

So, the idea is actually pretty simple, and it’s rooted in what Serizawa & Vivienne explained to Ford Brody way back in G2014: that the Titans first evolved many millions of years ago (at least as far back as the Permian, more than 250 million years ago), and that back then, the Earth was at least “ten times more radioactive than it is today”. Therefore, thinking logically, if the global levels of the radiation that the Titans feed on were at least 10x greater back then, I feel like it would make perfect sense that the maximum size of the Titans which lived back then would be much greater than the ones which exist in the modern era. That would explain where ridiculously gigantic creatures like that enormous skeleton in GxK would have come from: they had much more food available, so they could’ve gotten a lot bigger.

Those gigantic “Primordial Titans” would then have died out over time, effectively starved into extinction as the levels of global radiation began to drop and they could no longer feed themselves effectively, and their descendants gradually evolved to be significantly smaller (albeit still enormous by human standards) as a result. Like, say, if Godzilla’s species existed way back then, maybe Permian-era members of his kind could grow as large as Godzilla Earth from the Netflix anime trilogy, but in the modern era their adult size is generally limited to the 300-to-400-foot range that he’s in now.

After rewatching 2014 for the MonsterVerse's big One-Oh, yeah, this makes sense.

[louisupdates]

BEHIND THE CAMPAIGN: LOUIS TOMLINSON

MUSICALLY | 19 Apr 2023

3. The radio conundrum

We have seen historically that it has been tricky to get radio for him – but not because of any artist proposition issue. It’s just sonically that he wants to do something different to what radio wants to play.

It’s tricky because it falls through the gaps a little bit with what he wants to do. We’ve always looked at it as: let’s just assume there are zero promo opportunities at radio, TV and press. Let’s just take out promo entirely.

What you have got is a global, engaged, fanatical fanbase. You can do more with that than you can with those other things if you don’t have fans.

I would much rather have an artist who’s got an absolutely berserk global fanbase and that gets absolutely no support from traditional media – because you can work with that – than have an artist that’s not really got a particularly big fanbase but radio loves them and TV loves them. What does that matter if you’ve not got the fans?

We did always want to get promo because we would love to be able to expand Louis’ fanbase. But you’ve got to compete against Harry [Styles] and Niall [Horan]. They’re the first people you’ve got to compete against because, to play three One Direction members on the radio, I don’t know if radio stations would. Then you’ve got the sonic battle as well where he wants to keep it pretty raw.

The first single was ‘Bigger Than Me’, which is a big song to sing. It was a good bridge between the last album and this album. It gave the fans what they wanted.

We had really good feedback from radio. They played it to Clara [Amfo, Radio 1] without telling her who it was. She loved it and she did actually play it as one of the hottest tracks of the week. Greg James’s producers said it was brilliant. They absolutely adored it. Matt Edmondson and Mollie King’s team loved it. They thought it was great. But it got blocked at playlist conversations. It was like, Come on!

That was really disappointing because, pre-release, we were getting incredible feedback from producers, but we just couldn’t get it through the playlisting. We’d always planned for it not to go on radio, but if it got on radio that’d be just a brilliant bonus. So it didn’t harm our campaign strategy at all.

He’s too pop for indie stations and he’s too indie for the BBC [Radio 1]. It’s frustrating, but he’s making the music he wants to make and the fans love it. So what do you do?

‘Silver Tongues’ came out just before the album dropped, which was the official second single. That bridged the gap between those two singles. It was much more guitar based. It was up-tempo but it wasn’t too indie.

On the day that the album was released, fans bombarded Greg’s show on the 10 Minute Takeover [on the Radio 1 breakfast show]. And he played it! It was lovely but you could tell it was done like, “OK, I’ve done it now. Go away.” Which is just so sad because his demographic is right in that lane. It’s 18-25.

MAIN POST

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Scientists detect sign that a crucial ocean current is near collapse

By Sarah Kaplan

The Atlantic Ocean’s sensitive circulation system has become slower and less resilient, according to a new analysis of 150 years of temperature data — raising the possibility that this crucial element of the climate system could collapse within the next few decades.

Scientists have long seen the Atlantic Meridional Overturning Circulation, or AMOC, as one of the planet’s most vulnerable “tipping elements” —meaning the system could undergo an abrupt and irreversible change, with dramatic consequences for the rest of the globe. Under Earth’s current climate, this aquatic conveyor belt transports warm, salty water from the tropics to the North Atlantic, and then sends colder water back south along the ocean floor. But as rising global temperatures melt Arctic ice, the resulting influx of cold freshwater has thrown a wrench in the system — and could shut it down entirely.

The study published Tuesday in the journal Nature Communications suggests that continued warming will push the AMOC over its “tipping point” around the middle of this century. The shift would be as abrupt and irreversible as turning off a light switch, and it could lead to dramatic changes in weather on either side of the Atlantic.

“This is a really worrying result,” said Peter Ditlevsen, a climate physicist at the University of Copenhagen and lead author of the new study. “This is really showing we need a hard foot on the brake” of greenhouse gas emissions.

Ditlevsen’s analysis is at odds with the most recent report from the United Nations Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, which drew on multiple climate models and concluded with “medium confidence” that the AMOC will not fully collapse this century.

Other experts on the AMOC also cautioned that because the new study doesn’t present new observations of the entire ocean system — instead, it is extrapolating about the future based on past data from a limited region of the Atlantic — its conclusions should be taken with a grain of salt.

“The qualitative statement that AMOC has been losing stability in the last century remains true even taking all uncertainties into account,” said Niklas Boers, a scientist at the Potsdam Institute for Climate Impact Research in Germany. “But the uncertainties are too high for a reliable estimate of the time of AMOC tipping.”

The new study adds to a growing body of evidence that this crucial ocean system is in peril. Since 2004, observations from a network of ocean buoys has showed the AMOC getting weaker — though the limited time frame of that data set makes it hard to establish a trend. Scientists have also analyzed multiple “proxy” indicators of the current’s strength, including microscopic organisms and tiny sediments from the seafloor, to show the system is in its weakest state in more than 1,000 years.

For their analysis, Peter Ditlevsen and his colleague Susanne Ditlevsen (who is Peter’s sister) examined records of sea surface temperatures going back to 1870. In recent years, they found, temperatures in the northernmost waters of the Atlantic have undergone bigger fluctuations and taken longer to return to normal. These are “early warning signals” that the AMOC is becoming critically unstable, the scientists said �� like the increasingly wild wobbles before a tower of Jenga blocks starts to fall.

Susanne Ditlevsen, a statistician at the University of Copenhagen, then developed an advanced mathematical model to predict how much more wobbling the AMOC system can handle. The results suggest that the AMOC could collapse any time between now and 2095, and as early as 2025, the authors said.

The consequences would not be nearly as dire as they appear in the 2004 sci-fi film “The Day After Tomorrow,” in which a sudden shutdown of the current causes a flash freeze across the northern hemisphere. But it could lead to a drop in temperatures in northern Europe and elevated warming in the tropics, Peter Ditlevsen said, as well as stronger storms on the East Coast of North America.

Marilena Oltmanns, an oceanographer at the National Oceanography Center in Britain, noted in a statement that the temperatures in the north Atlantic are “only one part of a highly complex, dynamical system.” Though her own research on marine physics supports the Ditlevsens’ conclusion that this particular region could reach a tipping point this century, she is wary of linking that transition to a full-scale change in Atlantic Ocean circulation.

Yet the dangers of even a partial AMOC shutdown mean any indicators of instability are worth investigating, said Stefan Rahmstorf, another oceanographer at the Potsdam Institute who was not involved in the new study.

“As always in science, a single study provides limited evidence, but when multiple approaches lead to similar conclusions this must be taken very seriously,” he said. “The scientific evidence now is that we can’t even rule out crossing a tipping point already in the next decade or two.”

Chris Mooney contributed to this report.

[Washington Post]

[whoami-24601]

International Incident Part 5

Part 1 Part 4

After the drivers decide that Lewis and Logan would do social media posts, Lewis calls Toto for an update. "Toto, what is going on? It's been almost three hours, man. This isn't ok. If we don't get out soon, we are going to come up with our own plan."

From the speakerphone, everyone could hear a gruff Toto say, "we haven't gotten much of an update either. Stefano and some of the FIA are negotiating with the representation of the country. The only thing we have been told is that they are not looking for money. We offered. They seem to want to make a spectacle out of this. They're unhappy with," Toto sighed, "a lot of things really."

"Like what?" Lewis was aware they needed to save cell phone battery, but it felt too important to cut the conversation short.

"Like," Toto hesitated, sounding exhausted, "all of it. Gay rights, women's rights, global warming, and our attempts at reducing carbon emissions. Something about a flag and sponsors, too. It just sounds like they want us to be stuck in the 50s or something. I have no idea how a race was even approved here." The drivers all started whispering amongst themselves with that admission. What were they going to do? Why was this being taken out on them?

"Money talks, Toto," Lewis responds. "We all know that. The big question is - what do they want us to do about it? Those things are much bigger than this one race here. We can't just pledge to set back humanity."

"No, no, we can't, and we won't. We need to figure out how to get you all out and get the hell out of here." Toto paused again to ask, "how is everyone doing?"

"Umm," Lewis surveyed the room. The duos and trios had started to separate again. The closeness during their planning session diminished as they heard Toto's comments. "I'm going to go with not great. Little water, no food, and we're basically on the edge of panic."

"I don't know what to suggest for you all but I will do my best to see if we can at least get you some food and water. Hopefully this ends soon."

"Yeah, ok, Toto, thanks for the update. I'm going to save battery again, so just call if you have an update. We may switch to someone else's phone after a while, but mine is still good for now. We'll text you if that changes." Toto had become the main contact since George and Lewis were part of the problem solving group, and they knew Toto would do everything in his power to get them out. The rest of the team principals were also aware that Toto was the only contact after the initial lock-in occurred.

Everyone settled back into their corners to call their loved ones. The problem solving team also found spaces they could speak somewhat privately, given everyone was stuck in a single room together.

As they walked very slowly back to their corner, Danny said, "well, I guess it's phone call time. Do we want to call one at a time? We can time the one person and provide support?" He turned to Max and Lando for their thoughts.

Max nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that's good. I don't think I should call my dad, though. I'll call my mom and Victoria together." Daniel and Lando did not question the decision as they approached their former spot.

Daniel dropped himself down against the wall and opened his legs suggestively. "Anyone wanna come cuddle me?" His eyebrows jumped up and down as he surveyed the two men. Lando immediately blushed and shook his head no while Max seemed to contemplate the offer. "You in, Maxy?"

"Sure," Max answered nonchalantly, settling down between Daniel's legs and leaning casually against his chest. Lando stood with his mouth open at how easily Max had agreed.

Seeing Lando's reaction, Danny told him, "you missed your shot, Lan. Have to wait for the next time my legs are open!" He laughed at his own comment and opened his arm up for Lando to squish next to him, which he did without hesitation.

"Anyone want to call first?" Lando asked softly. He didn't want to call at all but knew it was the right thing to do.

"I will do it," Max said, pulling his phone out from his back pocket, awkwardly knocking against Daniel's legs.

Squeezing his legs back around Max's body once his arm was clear, Daniel teased, "Oh, Maxy," getting a chuckle in return.

While Max was turning his phone on, Lando rolled his eyes and debated about his own phone call. He knew he had to talk to his parents, but he also wished he could talk to his other friend Max. He debated what he needed to say, thinking back to Lewis' suggestions. His parents would absolutely know something was wrong if he just called to say he loved them, and if his dad figured out something was wrong and Lando wasn't telling him, he would get the information somehow. He had Zak's direct line after all. After a few minutes, Lando realized he hadn't been listening to Max. The call had started, and Lando tuned in to hear Max say, "you will be well taken care of if anything happens to me. I met with some lawyers to see to it." Lando raised an eyebrow and looked at Danny for his reaction. Danny was staring at his watch with an intense look on his face, nothing Lando wanted to interrupt. Once again, tuning back in, Lando heard Max say goodbye, and he loved them. Lando was also shocked to see the silent tears falling down his friend's face. He reached over, wrapped their arms together, and put his head on Max's shoulder.

"It is not a lie," Max answered the question Lando didn't ask. "I had lawyers draw up papers that most of my money and property goes to them if I die. I did it a long time ago, but I did not see the point in telling them before. They know racing is dangerous, and it did not seem important."

Daniel slipped an arm between Lando's body and arm so he could wrap both arms around Max. "You did good, Maxy. Your family is so proud of you." As an afterthought he added, "so am I." Max looked over his shoulder at Daniel, grateful.

"I'm proud of you too, Max," Lando added softly. "You deserve everything you've achieved. I just wish I could take away the bad stuff." Lando's head remained on Max's shoulder, so he didn't see the confused face.

"The bad stuff made me deserve the good stuff," Max responded.

Danny sighed and tightened his hold. "No, Maxy. You don't have to go through bad stuff to get good stuff. That's now how life works. You deserve it just for being you."

Max would not agree with his friends, but he did not see the point arguing, so he asked, "who is next?"

"Danny," Lando answered quickly. He bashfully looked back, hoping he would not disagree.

"Sure, sure," Danny conceded, pulling his arms back to get his own phone out. "Maxy, you want to time me with that fancy watch you've got? I probably need like a minute warning. Unlike you, who finished your call in less than 3 minutes!"

"Are you sure you do not need a five minute warning? We know how you like to talk," Max joked.

Daniel tickled Max's side in retaliation, thankful for the laughter it caused. Max squirmed a bit until Daniel stopped to prepare for his call. He was calling both of his parents together. He wanted to call his sister too but didn't think he would have time to arrange it and say what he wanted without raising too many alarm bells.

Lando desperately wanted to listen to Danny's call to try to help prepare him for his own, but as soon as Danny started talking, Lando zoned out again. He watched the different drivers in the room to see how they were reacting to calling their loved ones. Charles and Pierre remained the closest to them, and Yuki had attached himself to that group, or more specifically, Pierre. Pierre was obviously trying to be strong for the men on both sides of him. His face looked hard, likely trying to hide his true feelings. Meanwhile, Yuki looked terrible. He was so confused and staring at his phone like it was a foreign object he had never used before. Charles looked like he had finished his call if the tear tracks on his face were any indication.

Lando looked to the other side of the room to see George and Alex together, George on the phone, and Alex holding his hand while looking at his own watch. Fernando and Carlos were sitting near each other, each on their phones. Esteban was on his phone and talking animatedly while Lance seemed to be zoned out, staring at the floor in front of himself.

A hand touching his back broke Lando from his own reverie, causing him to jump. "I'm sorry, Lan," Danny said, continuing to rub up and down. "You ok? Are you ready to call your parents?"

Lando looked back at Danny, shocked that it was already his turn. He hadn't heard a single thing Danny had said. He can see the tears in his eyes, though. Lando took another look around the room, a deep breath, and turned back to Danny with determination. If everyone else could do this, so could he. "Yes, let's do this." Lando picked up his phone and realized his hands were shaking. He couldn't even unlock it in the first two attempts.

Danny reached over and took the phone from his hands. Without saying anything, he held it steady and let Lando unlock it. Once unlocked, Danny took it and turned airplane mode off and opened the phone contacts. Lando didn't understand why Danny was doing that. He could handle these basic tasks. He didn't see the point in arguing, though. Maybe Danny needed to help him to feel grounded. After a moment, Danny showed him his phone and asked, "this number?" Lando could see "Dad (ICE)" open and nodded. He might need to add his mom, but he would see if they were together first.

"Wait, what time is it in the UK?" Lando asked suddenly. The drivers were calling all over the world, and the timing was bound to cause some alarms to go off.

Max answered, "7pm." Of course Max knew without having to look it up.

"It was the middle of the night for your family, Danny?" Lando asked, concerned.

Danny grimaced and confirmed, "Yeah, I didn't think that through. They definitely know something is wrong, but they know to wait for more information." Then added softly as an afterthought, "hopefully."

Lando stared at the contact on his phone until the screen went dark. He felt shuffling next to him and realized Max had gotten up, and Danny had managed to maneuver them both so Lando was back between his legs. His knees were up on both sides, almost like a leg hug, while his arms wrapped snuggly around his waist. "Do you want to practice?" Danny offered quietly. Lando didn't know what to say. To Danny, to his parents. He leaned back against Danny's chest, thankful for the support. He glanced over at Max, now to his right, who was staring right back at him intensely. As they looked in each other's eyes, Danny stated, "you don't have to lie. Tell them you're having a bad night and you miss them. You just want to hear their voices. That's not too strange to concern them, is it?"

"My parents?" Lando asked with a forced chuckle. "They'd be concered for sure, but I think you're right. They'd be more concerned about my mental health than me being in a fucking hostage situation." Lando felt Danny kiss the back of his head but he didn't say anymore. Lando took that as his cue to just get it done.

Managing to unlock his phone this time seemed like a good sign he was ready. Lando clicked "call" and "speakerphone" quickly. He probably shouldn't do speakerphone given so many people in the room, but he just couldn't handle being the only one that could hear his parents' reaction.

"Hey Lando!" his dad answered, sounding happy to hear from him.

"Hey dad," Lando responded, trying to sound more upbeat than he felt.

"What's wrong?" his dad immediately asked, proving Lando failed his attempt.

"Nothing, just um, could you get mom too, please? I just want to talk to you both." Lando found himself rubbing his leg, trying to force out the nervous energy.

Lando's dad responded, "of course, give me a minute." He could be heard yelling in the background and walking through the house.

Lando felt another kiss on his head, this time just above his left ear. It felt more grounding than the rubbing he was doing. He pushed his head back into Danny's face gently, trying to say thank you silently.

"Honey?" Lando's mom asked, concerned. "Are you OK? Your dad said you wanted to talk to both of us. Do we need us to come to you?"

"No!" Lando exclaims much too loudly. He glances around the room to see if any other driver's noticed but just sees a couple of people looking his way. That was fine. Not too big a scene. "I just mean, no, I'm ok. You don't need to travel all this way just because I'm having a bad night. I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow."

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" His mom asks.

"I, um, I just," Lando stuttered. He had no idea what to say.

Danny leaned over Lando's shoulder and spoke to the phone, "hey Mr and Mrs Norris, Daniel Ricciardo here. I'm sorry to scare you like this. Lando was just feeling out of sorts, and I thought a piece of home might make him feel better. I didn't consider how that would sound to you."

"Oh, honey," Lando's mom responded softly. "Thank you, Danny. What have I said about the whole Mr. and Mrs. Norris thing? You're an adult, and a close friend of the family. There's no need for such formality."

"Right, right," Danny agreed. "Just feels wrong, like I'm disrespectful if I don't call you that!"

"Well, I'm telling you I don't find you using our first names disrespectful at all," Lando's mom responded sternly.

Danny laughed and agreed, "Ok, Ok, I get it. I don't want to take away from Lan here. Unfortunately, we need to go in a minute. Lando, tell your parents you love them and not to worry about you."

Lando swallowed and did as told, "I love you. Don't worry about me."

"We're always going to worry about you," Lando's dad responds. "We love you too, Lando, so much."

"So much," Lando's mom adds. "Call us anytime, honey. And, Danny?"

"Yes?"

"You take good care of our boy, right?"

"I do my best," Danny answers with a slight catch in his voice. Lando's parents don't seem to notice and hang up after their goodbyes

[thesinglesjukebox]

CHARLI XCX - VON DUTCH

“If Von Dutch were alive,” said Burns, who runs a website about his friend at www.vondutch.freeservers.com, “he would hate all this.”

[5.81]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: On February 12 of this year I predicted that "we can safely give the Charli lead single an automatic high controversy [5.00] and be done with it." History will vindicate me. [5]

Jackie Powell: A common Charli XCX motif is her admiration and sampling of 1990s and Y2K culture, which has allowed her to write songs that are cheeky with a dash of British wit. She does this on “Von Dutch” by comparing her reputation in pop to that of a cult classic, but struggles with the extended metaphor of how she’s what Von Dutch, the LA clothing brand that has had a recent resurgence, sounds like. The concept feels incomplete. I actually prefer the song’s remix with Addison Rae and A.G. Cook. The ad-libbed scream from Rae, the added verse, and the dropping of “I’m your number one” over and over again make the remix much more compelling and zany. The original will only really bang in drag bars—a fine place for something to hit, of course, but at this point I expect Charli to be pushing her own boundaries. [5]

Alfred Soto: Like much of her output, "Von Dutch" represents Charli XCX's fair to middling ambition to become a global pop star. Like much of that output "Von Dutch" strikes confused poses over shrieking electronics. [3]

Hannah Jocelyn: Charli XCX said she wants to go back to 1999, but with songs like these she clearly wishes it was 2018: all the callbacks and bombast referring to when she was “the future of music” and not halfway to the headliner of an inevitable "hyperpop" nostalgia festival. I like the gloriously tinny snare, but in 2024 the bratty chant vocals sound dated (as does the album title that's just brat in lowercase). The most exciting songs on CRASH to me were “Constant Repeat” and “Move Me,” which proved she could bring her "kinda rare attitude" to heartfelt ballads. "Von Dutch" is just mindless comfort food for aging cis male gays, which is fine — I’m the lone First Two Pages of Frankenstein defender, I get it — but she can’t say she’s my Number One when on this song, she's my Number [5]

Mark Sinker: I enjoy that Charli XCX lives in a room-sized selection-box of all of the rest of girlpop, everything constantly arriving with its conscious little tweaky echo of this or that prior item. They’re nice items, and we both like them, so why not? Maybe this feels a bit more hemmed in than is comfy, though: it has big Britney-feel, which is to say echoes of an aural highpoint that actually expressed a grim life lowpoint for Brit. As for Von Dutch, they currently have the one and only Wikipedia page with "Behind-the scenes tumult" as a cross-hed, which pleases me but also makes me anxious.  [7]

Katherine St. Asaph: Once again, the nostalgia is miscalibrated: Von Dutch was trendy in the mid-2000s, while this sounds like the late 2000s. Specifically, it sounds like every song from the late 2000s I would have given a [7] or higher. [7]

Will Adams: I whole-heartedly support pop stars honoring the advancements made by the likes of Luciana in support of the essential micro-genre of Obnoxious Banger. [7]

Kat Stevens: I'm down for the Bodyrox ft Luciana revival! Is there a Fedde Le Grand remix? [6]

Andrew Karpan: Pop music tells us to want to have it all, a maximalist vision that typically gets bigger as it goes on. Counterintuitively, part of the mesmerizing appeal of Charli’s records is the fact that there is no distance left for her to run and that her sound has become the sound of pop going nowhere but the present, busily manufacturing its cult appeal now for future observers to wax nostalgic about. “Von Dutch” is the most literalized version of that idea from her yet: a squeaky saran-wrapped PC Music-affiliated beat with a middle-aged pulse that never drops but simply hangs, like a foggily-heard echo of itself, like the memory of a club night experienced from the outside while nervously waiting in line in the cold.  [7]

Jeffrey Brister: It’s perhaps a bit unfair to compare everything Charli has made recently to the transcendent Pop 2 ("Backseat" 4evr), but when I hear something as dull as this, I can’t help but pine for its melodramatic maximalism. The sounds are just so monochromatic, pulling from a desaturated set of Charli tics like grinding revving synths and choppy autotuned vocal snippets, all snapping together like a “build your own Charli song” kit in nothing but gray tones. [4]

Kayla Beardslee: Why does this sound so bad? [2]

Nortey Dowuona: That last Earl album was good. This Charli single is good. Some people just never live up to your expectations because they are not you. Unlike Charli, I don't think it's because of jealousy, just curiosity and frustration. Charli and Earl were never meant to be Method Man or Robyn -- they had different tastes and trajectories, and slumming it as a major-label balance name isn’t the worst fate. You could be Tyga. Or Rita Ora. [9]

Taylor Alatorre: It's caked in an air of sweaty desperation dressed up as devil-may-care hedonism, which helps rather than hurts because of how unflinchingly skeletal the beat is, showing off its shotgun scaffolding to all who will see. She's not trying to hide anything about how she's trying to hide something. Never mind that the phrase "cult classic but I still pop" could be used to describe everything from the MC5 to DMB -- it wouldn't have suited their milieux, but it's quintessentially XCX. It may be the line Charli was put on this earth to sing, even if through half-gritted teeth.  [7]

Leah Isobel: The curse of being Charli XCX is that she is an asymptote: she can approach pop stardom, but she's far too self-conscious to allow herself to actually embrace it. As a result, the curse of being a Charli XCX fan is that she becomes more obnoxious and exhausting every time she reaches a new career milestone. After scoring her first big worldwide hit, she spent her social capital yelling at Germans and collaborating with Iggy Azalea. Number 1 Angel and Pop 2 cemented her as a serious artist with conceptual depth and longevity while simultaneously sending her spiraling into stan Twitter hell, from whence she shall never return. She wears a T-shirt denouncing critics -- which I am not mad at, please drag me mom yas! -- and then logs on with hot takes about Pop Music And Stardom, as a critic does. She sees herself as above mass-market pandering and yet also below it, both superior to the culture and bitter at her inability to assimilate into it. (Gay people love her because she's relatable.) Hence, "Von Dutch." Its corkscrewing mania has the serrated simplicity that characterizes her riffs on punk music; it feels like a cousin to the unfairly maligned Sucker. But where Sucker balanced its brattier impulses with good-natured melodicism and emotional directness, "Von Dutch" is all needling cynicism and overdriven id. The song has a nominal verse/chorus structure but no big dynamic or melodic changes, no particular idea beyond "I'm lovable and awesome; look at my chart placements." The need to serve as a pop single also keeps "Von Dutch" from entering the realm of the dumb-brilliant dance music that so clearly inspired it; it's too much of a branding exercise, too interested in flattering its audience for getting it. And yet in its grating repetition, I still hear her insecurity beneath the synth buzzsaws. No one who's convinced that they're actually Living That Life would say it so directly, with such barely concealed desperation. The curse of being Charli XCX is that, deep down, she is still convinced that she is unlovable. The curse of being a Charli XCX fan is that I love her because she's relatable. [5]

Isabel Cole: I don't know that I'll ever stop feeling about Charli XCX like she's my brilliant daughter who dropped out of med school to pursue a career as a wedding DJ: of course, honey, I just want you to be happy, but are you sure this is what you want? You don't want to, like, try? At all? This is the kind of gleefully, knowingly brainless fun Charli can do in her sleep, propulsive without ever really going anywhere because the point is just to drive. She's not living up to her potential, but much like a boring mom who doesn't "get" her daughter's life of Top 40 hits in mid-budget venues and weeknights spent doing ketamine with her friends, I am unsophisticated enough to enjoy it when she does songs that are songs, and this one does make me feel like I'm walking through the opening credits of my life when it plays. [7]

Ian Mathers: I like it when the synths go THWOOM and/or VOORP. [7]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]