#ostensibly for tax reasons

[ghostpalmtechnique]

Why your criticism of "capitalism" is so tiresome

I usually disagree with criticisms of "capitalism," but there are different reasons for this due to underlying terminological confusion: you can think of this as a 2x2 matrix where the quadrants represent "I agree with your premise {yes/no}" and "the thing you are angry about is actually capitalism {yes/no}".

There is a small class of genuinely radical leftists that object to all private investment, market transactions, etc. (Category: no/mostly yes) I do not believe that the planning problem is solvable even with currently-unavailable tech such as superhuman AI, nor do I think the "people respond to incentives" problem would go away even if you did otherwise solve it. (It's pretty notable that every example that people can point to of societies that ostensibly don't display this behavior are near-subsistence economies .)

There are people who think the welfare state is too weak. "We should be more like Scandinavia." (Category: yes/no) The US is a mixed economy. Denmark and Sweden are mixed economies. We could move the dial on tax-and-transfer a lot and still be capitalist, just like Scandinavia is.

There are people who think "capitalism is the reason poverty exists." (Category: no/no? This thinking is so confused that it's hard to categorize.) The default state of humanity is poverty. Our ability to climb out of that has been dependent on productive investment. The major modernization pushes in Communist USSR and China depended on market-based exports to the rest of the world and would have failed faster and harder as an attempt at centrally-planned autarky. They were free-riding on capitalism.

There are people who think capitalism is bad because it's a impersonal system where people are transactional and don't care about other people. (Category: mostly no/no) First of all, this isn't a distinguishing feature of capitalism. Mercantilist and communist states have been equally suffused with impersonal bureaucracy. Second of all, a system where your ability to get things you need depends on your ability to pay for them and/or fill out the right paperwork is almost always safer and better than a system where your ability to get what you need depends on having the right connections and/or being well-liked (or just likeable). To actually *be* better, of course, requires certain public measures to ensure everyone has the resources and knowledge to access them; however, see previous paragraph.

There are people who wouldn't actually be able to articulate a general criticism of capitalism because their actual complaint is "the status quo gives me personally less wealth and status than I think I should have." You can probably guess what quadrant this is in.

[phoenixyfriend]

CALL YOUR FEDERAL REPRESENTATIVES TODAY 2/7/24

VERY IMPORTANT, CALL AS EARLY IN THE MORNING AS YOU CAN, AS THEY WILL PROBABLY BE VOTING TODAY, POSSIBLY TOMORROW

HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES:

VOTE AGAINST: H.R. 7217: Making emergency supplemental appropriations to respond to the attacks in Israel for the fiscal year ending September 30, 2024, and for other purposes.

VOTE AGAINST: H.Res. 863: Impeaching Alejandro Nicholas Mayorkas, Secretary of Homeland Security, for high crimes and misdemeanors. REASON: it’s a baseless political move meant to flex on their opposition. If your rep is republican, tell them off for focusing on litigating against the Dems instead of focusing on policy.

VOTE AGAINST: H.Res. 994: Providing for consideration of the bill (H.R. 7160) to amend the Internal Revenue Code of 1986 to modify the limitation on the amount certain married individuals can deduct for State and local taxes, and providing for consideration of the resolution (H.Res. 987) denouncing the harmful, anti-American energy policies of the Biden administration, and for other purposes. REASON: Loses billions in tax revenue and explicitly targets green energy.

SENATE:

Senate Republicans are looking like they’ll vote down the budget that’s been negotiated for MONTHS despite ostensibly getting everything they wanted. Tell them to stop being cowards and backing out of something they promised to their constituents just because Donald Trump told them not to. He’s not even in the government right now.

DO tell them that you still aren’t happy with the bill because it’s too focused on anti-immigration policies and that you’d be happy if they bent on that one, and on Israel’s military funding. Better if they focus on (cause of your choice that needs more funding).

[mariacallous]

A battle for control is taking place inside iPhones across Europe. While Apple introduced new rules that ostensibly loosen its control over the App Store, local developers are seething at the new system, which they say entrenches the power Apple already wields over their businesses. They’re now breaking into a rare open revolt, mounting pressure on lawmakers to step in.

So far, they have accused Apple’s new business terms of being “abusive,” “extortion,” and “ludicrously punitive.”

“Apple holds app providers ransom like the Mafia,” claims Matthias Pfau, CEO and cofounder of Tuta, an encrypted email provider. The tech giant treats iPhones as its territory, Pfau complains, tightly controlling developers’ access before taking a chunk of their profits. “Anyone wanting to provide an iOS app must pay a ransom to Apple; there’s no way around it.”

For years, Apple has rejected Tuta app updates if they include links to the company’s website, he says. Like all iOS apps, Tuta has also been unable to take in-app payments directly from its customers. Apple acts as an intermediary and charges a fee. Pfau was hoping the App Store reforms mandated by the EU’s Digital Markets Act (DMA) would make companies like his less tightly bound to Apple. Instead, he is left disappointed by the new terms on offer. “What they came up with is the best proof that they are massively abusing their market dominance,” he says. “Apple is basically behaving like a dictator.”

Apple was designated a “gatekeeper” under the DMA after the EU decided that the App Store acts as an important gateway between businesses and consumers. The company, along with other tech giants, has until March 7 to make a raft of changes. To avoid fines that can reach up to 20 percent of global revenue, the smartphone maker announced its new rules in late January.

The rules technically make it possible for users of its hardware to download apps from alternative app stores and also for developers to use their own payment systems—bypassing Apple’s commission.

But in order to access these new features, developers have to sign up to new business terms. Those terms include restrictions that disincentivize any developers moving away from the status quo, according to Pfau. If his company Tuta were to take advantage of the new system, iPhones would issue warnings—known by critics as “scare screens”—informing users about security risks linked to using payment systems that are not managed by Apple. From Tuta’s testing of how popups affect in-app upgrades, he estimates these warnings would dissuade 50 percent of users from proceeding with their purchase.

Additionally, although the new terms allow Pfau to make Tuta available in an alternative app store, they would also expose the company to a “core technology fee” every time it was downloaded or updated more than 1 million times in a one-year period. Pfau accepts that Tuta, which he claims has over 100,000 paying subscribers, might not have to pay this fee in the first year. “But we are growing,” he insists. “So we would definitely have to pay it within the next couple of years.”

For Sweden’s Spotify, the download fee is more of an immediate problem if the company were to accept Apple’s new business terms. “With our EU Apple install base in the 100 million range, this new tax on downloads and updates could skyrocket our customer acquisition costs, potentially increasing them tenfold,” Spotify CEO Daniel Ek said on X soon after Apple released its proposal. “While Apple has behaved badly for years, what they did yesterday represents a new low, even for them.”

For that reason, Spotify, like other apps, believes it has no choice but to stick with its current agreement, Ek elaborated in a call with investors last week. That means still paying commission to Apple and listing their iOS app exclusively on Apple’s App Store. “No sane developer wants to pick any of the new terms,” Ek said. Sticking with the current system doesn’t make the situation worse for companies like Spotify, he added, but it does mean they are missing out on revenues from users buying products such as audiobooks, a new focus for the platform, through the company’s app. (Spotify does not sell audiobooks in their iOS app in order to avoid Apple’s commission fee.) “So some of these more innovative things that we would like to do, we’re currently restricted in doing on the iOS ecosystem.”

Apple maintains its changes are compliant with the DMA while also being necessary to protect its EU users’ devices from the security risks that, it says, are introduced by the new law. “Apple’s approach to the Digital Markets Act was guided by two simple goals: complying with the law and reducing the inevitable, increased risks the DMA creates for our EU users,” says Apple spokesperson Julien Trosdorf. “That meant creating safeguards to protect EU users to the greatest extent possible and to respond to new threats, including new vectors for malware and viruses, opportunities for scams and fraud, and challenges to ensuring apps are functional on Apple’s platforms.”

App developers don’t have much power on their own to make Apple change course. But they hope their criticism will force the European Commission, a branch of the EU’s government, to take action. After the March 7 deadline, officials are expected to assess both Apple’s proposals and the market’s reaction. “Now [the European Commission] must reject Apple’s proposal and even consider imposing a fine if no further improvements are made,” says Sebastiano Toffaletti, secretary general of the European DIGITAL SME Alliance, an industry group.

Andy Yen, CEO of Swiss email and cloud service Proton, is less diplomatic. “If I was the European Commission, I would probably look at this as an insult,” he says of Apple’s proposed business terms. “It’s a slap in the face.”

[albertserra]

It’s like … it’s not letting up. I’m supposed to just work like nothings happening while my tax money is actively funding genocide and the president who ostensibly is supposed to be better than those evil republicans is spouting racist rumors as reasons for his complicity. I can go on the streets I can donate to funds I can watch films and read and try to celebrate Palestinian culture and resilience how I can and I can bear witness to what they are asking us to see. But I genuinely don’t see a light at the end of the tunnel if eventually a ceasefire is finally called but what will life even look like for the survivors?

[afterdarkprincess]

The Devil’s in the Details (But You got a Friend in Me)- Part 2

Samijey Fic- AU From the Royal Rumble

So just a heads up- I’ve changed a few things in this fic from when Part 1 was posted. Nothing major, but if you notice anything’s different that’s why :) Those updates and edits will show up on the full version of this fic when it goes up on AO3.

Thank you SO much to @elementaldoughnut12 for letting me use her chubby Sami prompt, I hope I’m doing it justice 🥰

And thank you to @feelschicken for always being my sounding board when I need it and letting me drag you into new fandoms!

Some warnings for this fic because it is Explicit and reminder as always that my blog is 18+

This part contains: Conversations about weight gain (zero shame involved) a small Panic Attack, Oral Sex, Body Worshipping, and Coming Untouched (mostly)

Part One Here

—-

That nights' Smackdown passes in a blur, a fight between him and Jimmy and the Alpha Academy that they easily win, taking Gable down with the 1D for the pin.

Roman hasn’t given them any explicit direction since they’re still riding on the momentum of Sami’s injury, which really doesn’t sit well with Jey.

After Smackdown, the rest of the weekend is booked up with House shows, and endless hours in the car with Jimmy and Solo driving between cities.

Despite being crammed into a car with the two people he’s supposed to be closest to, Jey feels more alone than ever.

He has another week and a half before a 3 day break when he can return to Sami. It can’t come soon enough.

---

This pattern continued for a few months, Jey going to the house in Florida whenever he has a break to see Sami. The visits are never as long as he wants them to be, and the time in between when he’s working and traveling seems like torture.

Jey ostensibly has a separate home, an apartment he keeps for mail and tax stuff. But the house where Sami stays rapidly replaces it as “home” to him.

Sami has put on some weight in the meantime, what with being so well fed from Chef Uce-ardee and not being able to do much in the gym other than bulk up his arms, but it makes Jey happy to see Sami so clearly well cared for. His pale skin glows with health, who cares if there’s more of him?

Sami moans about his shirts not fitting, so Jey makes sure on his last few trips to bring lots of merch oversized. He tries his best not to think about why it makes him so pleased to see Sami swimming in a 2XL shirt with his face on it.

Jey has a tight schedule with Wrestlemania coming up, their feud with the Brawling Brutes now heating up to a fever pitch. Jey’s gonna make those bastards pay for what they did to Sami, and he’s gonna do it on the biggest stage of them all.

But that means a solid 6 week stretch through March and April where he can’t make a trip home to Sami, between press and fan appearances and shows.

Jey’s miserable. They text and call each other of course, but it just isn’t the same. Jimmy gives him a hard time whenever he steps out of their hotel room to call Sami, with a teasing “Say hi to your girl for me, Uce!” to which he just rolls his eyes and grumbles for him to shut up.

It’s hard to argue with that logic though, when just hearing Sami’s voice over the phone is the only bright spot of his days.

Somewhere along the way Jey’s feelings for Sami have became more than just a brotherly bond that comes from fighting together. Sami understands him in ways that no one else does, makes him smile and laugh when he’s had a shitty day.

He’s the last person he wants to talk to before going to sleep, and in the dark of shared hotel rooms, Jey’s mind wanders to think about what it might be like to really share a home with Sami, to share a bed and a life together. To always have the other man in his corner.

The only thing that gives Jey pause is the ever looming presence of Roman.

There’s a reason he only calls Sami from the safety of hotel rooms and the cover of night. Roman’s used Jey’s devotion to his brother against him before, made it crystal clear that if Jey doesn’t follow orders, Jimmy would pay the price.

What would Roman do to Sami if he knows how Jey feels? If Jey puts a toe out of line or talks back, would it be Sami’s neck this time?

In his mind’s eye he can see Roman with his hands around Sami’s throat, choking the life out of him as he struggles and reaches for Jey, frozen and powerless to do anything.

Would it be worth it? To love Sami but never be able to keep him safe from his own family?

“You don’t have to do this alone anymore, you know,” Sami voice on the phone cuts through the doom and gloom of his thoughts. “Whatever’s on your mind, we can work through it together.”

Jey laughs ruefully, how does Sami always know?

“Jus’ really miss you, Sami. Things been real intense lately, dunno, worried over nothin’.” Jey rubs his face with his hands, trying to keep himself together.

“It’s not nothing if it’s botherin’ you like this, Jey. Is it Roman? Is he giving you a hard time?”

It really wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, being ordered to take out opponents during Roman’s fights, taking it like a good guard dog.

“The usual, jus’ tired of fightin’ his fights, you know? Got my own fight to deal with. Gotta kick Holland’s ass for even thinkin’ bout touchin’ you.” He tries for a light tone to brighten the mood, but he really didn’t meant to sound so possessive.

Sami is quiet for a moment, and Jey thinks maybe he’s fucked everything up.

“Wish I could be there to help, you don’t always have to fight my fights too. And I gotta teach that asshole a lesson for coming at you like that.” Sami laughs, but Jey can hear the frustration in his voice.

How can Jey tell him that it’s never a hardship to fight Sami’s fights? That he would volunteer to go to war with him before being commanded to do anything by Roman ever again?

Jey’s silent for too long, because Sami’s voice comes over the line again.

“Miss you too, Jey- Just a few more weeks, yeah?”

Jey blinks away the tears that threaten to fall, trying to push down the ache in his chest.

“You just miss my cookin’, I knew it.”

“I got plenty of your food in my freezer!! I’m gonna be up a few weight classes when I come back as it is.”

“Ain’t nothing wrong with that, Uce,” Jey can imagine Sami in the house, sitting up on the couch, big t-shirt barely covering his boxers and thighs, the picture of comfort and home. “M’coming home as soon as I can,” He can hear the naked longing in his own voice.

“I’ll be waiting here,” Sami might have meant that as a joke, but Jey hears the same longing in Sami’s voice and it makes the distance hurt all the more. “You should get some sleep, it’s late.”

“Yeah, you right…”

Jey trails off, but he really doesn’t want to end the conversation.

“Go to bed, Jey!!” Sami laughs, “And tell your brothers I said Hi.”

“Those clowns ain’t gettin’ nothin’ from me,” Jey grumbles. “Night, Sami.”

“Night, Jey.” Sami’s voice is soft, and there’s the sound of his breathing before finally the line goes dead.

It would be smarter for Jey to put some distance between them, to give this up to keep Sami safe and not give Roman another bargaining chip. It’s what he would have done a year ago, two years ago.

But Sami is right, he’s not alone in this anymore. And Sami isn’t a damsel to be saved. They can fight for this together.

He’s got weeks to decide how to do this, but the next time he sees Sami, he’s going to make sure Sami knows he’s in his corner too.

---

The week before Wrestlemania arrives before he knows it, and while Jey is thankful that his time without Sami is going quickly, he’ll really only feel better once the event is over and done with.

He calls Sami almost every night, and gets text messages throughout the day of little things happening back in Florida; the birds that hang out on the feeder out the window in the kitchen, little snippets of what’s happening on whatever show Sami’s decided to watch.

This time it’s a picture of Sami in the bathroom mirror, flexing his definitely bulked up arms, the stripes of stretch marks on his full soft belly visible and tantalizing.

Jey nearly chokes on his lunch.

He’s scheduled for a one on one match against Ridge Holland on Raw, and it’s an opportunity to make a big statement and set the tone for their tag match.

It’s also a chance for him to get some well earned payback for injuring Sami. The big show will be for Sofi, but if he can get some shots in he will.

Jimmy comes out with him of course, but Solo is nowhere to be found backstage, and of course Ridge brought that mangy dog partner of his so chances of interference are high.

Jey steels himself in the corner of the ring while Ridge eggs on the crowd that’s booing him.

Technically the Brawling Brutes are supposed to be good guys to the crowd, but Sami had endeared himself to more than just the bloodline over the last year, and the WWE universe was about as forgiving for Sami’s injury as Jey was.

As the ref comes in to start the match, Ridge took a few hulking steps toward him, and spit down at Jey’s feet.

“Make sure ya tell yer little boyfriend I said hullo, been a lot easier around here without ’im. Shoulda taken ’im out sooner.” The taller man sneers.

It’s clearly meant to rile him up and get him off his game, and he tries his best not to let the rage that boils in his blood overcome him, but he sees red as he goes for a super kick that immediately gets caught in Ridge’s giant hands, tugging him off his balance and starting the match in his opponent’s favor.

It’s an uphill battle from there, with Butch taking his opportunity to mess with his fingers, which always hurts like a bitch, but he’s knocked away pretty quickly by Jimmy and no lasting damage is done.

Jey finally gets the upper hand with a splash, but he takes the time to drag the man to the corner of the ring to get one Helluva kick in before making the pin.

The crowd goes wild, and the arena is filled with his entrance music, and the cover buys him a few moments to lean close to spit next to his face.

“Keep Sami’s name out yo’ damn mouth.” He grabs the back of Ridge’s shirt, raising his face up a few inches before slamming him back into the ring. “And if you ever so much as THINK ‘bout touchin’ him again, yo’ gon’ have a lot more than a busted knee!”

Jey stomps his foot down onto Holland’s knee, relishing in the howl it emits from the other man. It definitely crosses a line to do that unscripted, but Jey can’t find it in himself to care.

He stalks out of the ring, victorious, rejoining with Jimmy before they exit together.

It doesn’t take long for him to get cleared by medical and get back to the locker room to his phone, where he finds a slew of text messages from Sami.

I’ve got Raw turned on, kick his ass, Uce! 7:19pm

I don’t know what he said to you, but it’s not worth losing the match over- you can do this! 7:40pm

WOOOO-Way to go, Jey!! Hope you don’t get chewed out for that stomp though! 7:57pm

Just headed to bed but still awake- call me when you get to the hotel? Wanna tell you good job over the phone! 8:15pm

It’s almost midnight on the east coast, but knowing Sami he’s still awake waiting for him to call.

He shoots him a quick message, letting him know it’ll be about a half hour if he doesn’t want to wait up.

No worries- I can wait up for you :) 8:56pm

Jey doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve Sami, isn’t sure that he deserves him at all given his past and the things he’s done. He’s never known this kind of unconditional support before, and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep it.

“What you smilin’ at, Uce?” Jimmy shoves a hand at Jey’s shoulder playfully, knocking him from his train of thought and alerting him to both of his brothers’ presence.

“Jus’ thinkin’ bout how that dick Holland sounded when I put my boot in his knee,” It’s a white lie, but it’s better than showing all his cards. He’d like to trust in his brothers not to run off and tell Roman his every move, but some days he’s not so sure.

Solo nods, arms cross and face unreadable, and Jimmy laughs as he gathers up his bag.

“Serves that douchebag right for takin’ out our dawg! Glad you got a shot in ‘fore Saturday anyway, Uce. Make takin’ them down that much easier.”

Jey shrugs his own bag over his shoulder, “Can’t wait to put ‘em down for good, tired of seein’ their ugly mugs.”

“No Joke! Especially Butch,” Jimmy shakes his head, as if trying to dispel the image from his head. “I think that dude bites, for real.”

They all pack up into their rental to head back to the hotel, and despite the chatter that streams out of Jimmy’s mouth and the occasional grunt from Solo, all he can think about is hearing Sami’s voice as soon as possible.

__

Jey wakes up early for Day One of Wrestlemania, determined to face the day head on.

He gets through a few hours at the gym before making himself a protein shake for breakfast and checking his phone. He generally tries to avoid social media before a big match other than the stuff he’s required to post, but there’s a few messages from Sami, just a good morning and encouragement for the show tonight.

Even with the time difference, it’s a bit early for a text from Sami, who’s been using his recovery time to get into the sleeping habits of a teenager on summer vacation, often not waking until 10 or 11, but Jey doesn’t pay it much mind.

The rest of the morning is taken up with interviews over the phone before he’s taken off for a photo shoot and press op with Jimmy before finally heading to the stadium.

They’d done some dry runs in Sofi yesterday, but the sheer size of the place is still overwhelming. It’s still hard for Jey to believe sometimes that he went from wrestling with his family in their living room to all this.

There’s a pang in his chest that tells him that Sami should be here too, that he would have had his own Wrestlemania moments under these lights if it hadn’t been for his knee.

But at least Sami was away from Roman and his schemes and the pressure to perform.

The Tribal Chief had been particularly demanding in the last few weeks as he made appearances on Raw and Smackdown, making Jey wonder if it wasn’t better when his cousin only deigned to show up for Live Events.

This feud with Cody Rhodes was sure to be ended after this weekend and hopefully they could all move on from the damn Royal Rumble, and Jey could enjoy some breathing room from his family.

It would be another two weeks before he could go home to see Sami, but after enduring the last four, two weeks seems like nothing.

He just has to get through the match tonight, get rid of the Brawling Brutes and deal with everything else after.

---

The bell rings, signaling the end of the match.

Jey stares up at the lights above, the chorus of boos from the crowd is deafening. He rolls out of the ring to join his brother, grasping his hand like they were children again hiding from a thunderstorm.

They’d lost.

Sheamus had interfered, delivering a painful brogue kick to Jimmy’s chest and taking him out of the equation 30 minutes into the match, when Jey was exhausted and well past ready for a tag after a brutal bout with Butch. Holland made the tag when his back was turned and plowed into him like a truck.

Jey could barely tell which way was up, but he could hear the other man spitting words into his ear.

“Ya couldn’t protect ‘im then, and ya can’t now. Stay down, ya piece o’ shit.”

In his delirium, Holland’s thick accent turned to Roman’s smooth tones and his heart is frozen in fear, watching as his cousin gave the order for Solo to hit Sami with the spike. The scene twisted to his new recurring nightmare, Roman choking Sami as he cries and reaches for Jey, who is stuck, immobile, a failure again.

He felt the cover, felt his leg in the air and the count, but he was frozen and numb until he rolled out and felt the contact of Jimmy’s hand.

They failed.

He failed.

The walk backstage is long and painful, his lungs protesting with each step. There will be hell to pay for losing the tag titles, and his mind is already racing with thoughts of how this conversation with Roman will go.

Jey gets cleared pretty quickly, his ribs were a bit bruised but otherwise fine. Jimmy’s taken back to get his shoulder checked out, so Jey returned to their locker room alone.

But when he arrives, the Tribal Chief and the Wiseman are nowhere to be found.

Solo is unwrapping the tape on his hand slowly, he’d taken Sheamus out, but it was too little too late.

Solo nods at him, “Sami’s here,”

Wait, what?

He stares at his younger brother blankly, “What you say, Uce?”

“Sami’s here,” Solo nods again, and Jey twists to look behind him.

Like a mirage in the desert, Sami stands there, knee in a thick brace still but without the scooter contraption that helped him around the house. His face is drawn with worry and he stares at the hand Jey has braced against his ribs.

“Jey-“ He starts, taking a step forward, but Jey closes the distance, holding Sami’s shoulders like a lifeline and using every ounce of restraint not to wrap his arms around him.

“You’re here,” Jey hears the words tumble out of his mouth.

Sami laughs softly, “Yeah, Uce. I’m here.”

So many emotions are tearing through him, the relief and feeling of home at seeing Sami again, the exhaustion and frustrations from the match, combined with the leftover terror at Holland’s words, that Sami wasn’t safe and never could be as long as he’s by his side.

Sami gently removes his hands from his shoulders, gingerly stepping around him and pushing Jey to sit on the couch.

“Solo, can you take Jey’s papers to management for me? And tell Jimmy we’ll meet up back at the hotel?”

The enforcer gives Sami a raised eyebrow but nods, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him without another word.

They’re alone, no prying eyes. No brothers, no Roman, no Paul Heyman.

Sami turns back to him, approaching slowly and sitting down on the couch next to him, so similar to the nights back in Florida, watching trash TV until late at night.

“I’d really hoped to surprise you, think I still did, but I thought it’d be in better spirits,” Sami gently puts his hand on Jey’s where it rests in his lap. “Still glad I’m here though.”

Jey can’t think through the fog in his head, caught up in the swirl of emotions and the leftover adrenaline from the match, and his eyes fall from Sami’s worried brow to the plush of his lips.

Before he knows what he’s even doing his lips are pressed to Sami’s, hands cupping Sami’s cheeks in an effort to keep him close.

It lasts just for a few moments before Jey’s brain comes back online and he realized what he’d done.

Panicked, he pulls away, casting his head down, staring holes into the floor and wishing they would swallow him.

“Fuck, Sorry, uce- SHIT, M’sorry,” Jey feels like he’d been dosed in freezing water, the urge to vomit rising in his mouth.

Another fuckup, another way he’s failed tonight. He’s hit with the need to get away, get some air and distance from whatever he just did.

He starts to stand, but is stopped by a firm hand at his elbow.

“Jey, don’t be sorry,” There’s the touch of warm fingers at his chin, so soft and gentle as they guide his head up to meet Sami’s eyes once more.

Sami opens his mouth to speak again, but closes it instead and leans in slowly to connect their lips again, running his fingers along Jey’s jaw before tangling in his hair.

It’s slow, unhurried, and so heartbreakingly sweet. It’s everything Jey’s secretly wished for on the lonely nights on the road, dreaming of when he could return home to Sami.

When they finally part, Sami rests his forehead against his own, sighing out a long breath.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” He giggles, like a child caught with their hand in a candy jar.

“Why didn’t you?” Jey asks, absent-mindedly smoothing Sami’s hair with his fingers.

Sami gently shakes his head back and forth, and Jey relishes in the feeling, the intoxicating closeness.

“Was scared, I think. Didn’t know how you’d react really,”

That Jey could understand, honestly. He doesn’t know how to respond, other than that he really just wants to kiss Sami again, so he pulled their lips together desperately, groaning at the feeling when Sami deepens the motion.

“Seems like I was worried over nothing,” Sami laughs pressing a quick peck to the tip of Jey’s nose.

Jey buckles under the weight of his emotions, burying his face into Sami’s shoulder and wrapping him in a desperate embrace.

“Sorry-M’sorry, Sami,” Jey mumbles the words into the other man’s skin, tears falling and wetting the hoodie Sami has on.

Sami’s hands gently rub circles on his back, “You have nothing to be sorry for, it’s alright.”

“Couldn’t protect you, can’t do anythin’ right,” Jey’s chest heaves with a sob, shoulders shaking as Sami just holds him.

Jey couldn’t remember the last time anyone consoled him like this, aside from his twin, and even then Jimmy usually told him just to get his shit together.

After a few minutes, Jey could finally breathe and gently released Sami from the koala hold he’d had him in, Sami’s hands coming to wipe the remaining tears from his cheeks.

“Feeling better?” Sami asks gently, with no judgement.

Jey nods, feeling the exhaustion of the day settle into his bones.

“Jey, listen-“ Sami starts, keeping his warm hands on the side of Jey’s face so he can’t look away or hide. “You have nothing to apologize for, okay? I appreciate that you want to protect me, but remember when I told you we’re in this together? You don’t have to bear all that on your shoulders. I can protect myself and help you too.”

“But Roman-“

“I’m not blind, Jey. I saw what Roman did to Jimmy before, and I know how that eats at you. But you don’t have to be scared, okay? I’m not gonna let him use me against you or vice versa.”

Sami’s thumb strokes against his cheek, and he wants to believe so badly. “Still, we gotta be careful. Maybe we jus’ keep us between us for a while?”

There’s a frown on Sami’s face, “I gotta be honest here, Jey, I don’t wanna keep you a secret forever. I wanna treat you right.” He sighs, heavily. “But I understand this probably isn’t the best time.”

Jey blinks, trying to keep himself in check.

“Can’t have you payin’ for my mistakes tonight, Sami. I can’t-“ He feels panic rising in his throat again.

He’s cut off by the sensation of Sami’s lips at his forehead, right between his brows.

“Let’s not think about that now, huh?” Sami’s voice is low and soothing. “We have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

Jey feels a rush of heat to his stomach at the implication, and it fuels him to press their lips together, grasping at Sami’s neck to pull him closer, closer. Jey opens his mouth in a sigh, inviting the other man in further and relishing in the feeling of Sami’s tongue tasting along his bottom lip before diving in further to explore his mouth.

Jey angles his head a little, rubbing their noses together and pulls back just a bit, taking Sami’s lip in between his teeth and biting it playfully.

The noise the ginger makes in response goes straight to Jey’s pants, where his dick is quickly getting invested in the situation.

Jey runs his hands down to Sami’s chest, to the zipper of the hoodie he’s wearing, taking the zip in one hand and unzipping it while pushing the material off Sami’s shoulders and down his arms.

Underneath the hoodie, Sami is wearing a ribbed white tank top, one he’s had for a while based on how tight it is over the softness that’s settled on his chest and belly.

Sami’s never been a 6 pack abs kind of guy, but something about how the weight gain has settled on his frame drives Jey absolutely wild. The swell of his round little tits, kept perky by strong pectoral muscles underneath, and how they just kiss the fullness of his belly.

Jey gets up from the couch and kneels down in front of Sami, boxing him in with his arms as he swoops in to kiss the other man again.

“Missed you so much, Sami, you don’ even know,” He mumbles in between kisses. “Thought ‘bout you all the time, every night.” Jey moves to Sami’s neck, pressing little kisses to each faint freckle he finds.

Sami arches his back and neck, letting out a long sigh. “Couldn’t wait two more weeks, I bought the ticket as soon as the docs said I could.”

“M’glad,” Jey’s lips lingered at Sami’s collarbone, nipping the soft skin as he ran his hands along the bottom hem of Sami’s shirt. “Gonna take this off,”

Sami’s hands come down to his to stop him, “Jey-“

“Wanna see you, baby,” Jey moves up to Sami’s face, brushing his lips over each of Sami’s cheeks, then just ghosting over his lips.

Sami’s hands relaxed, and Jey guided both their hands in pulling the shirt off.

Jey’s mouth watered at the sight laid out before him, Sami’s round little nipples kissing the soft squish of his stomach, with a dusting of light soft hair covering all of it.

He zeroed in one nipple, taking it in his mouth and swirling his tongue around the tip, moaning around it as Sami threads his fingers into the hair on his neck. His dick is aching in his shorts, but this is about Sami now and making him feel good.

He drags his nose and licks a stripe across the mounds of Sami’s tits to pay attention to the other nipple as he smooths his hands around the sweet love handles that are a perfect size for each handful.

Sami looked so well loved and cared for and it was intoxicating knowing he’d taken of Sami this good for the last few months.

Jey’s hands travel back down to the edge of the joggers Sami wore, tugging on the elastic.

Sami’s hand stilled in Jey’s hair. “Baby, you don’t have to,”

“Wanna make you feel good,,”

Jey looks up at Sami through his thick eyelashes, rubbing his thumbs into the soft give of belly. Sami’s face is nearly red with blush and there are tears shining in his eyes as he nods, fingers tightening their grip on Jey’s hair. He tugs Jey up for another melting kiss.

Sami lifts his hips up, pushing the joggers down with one hand, taking his boxers in one motion halfway down his thighs and freeing his very hard dick.

Jey sinks back on the balls of his feet to come to eye level with Sami’s waist, touching the ginger’s hips and nudging them forward a touch, mindful of the knee injury. He dips down to press an open wide kiss to the head of Sami’s cock, eating up the loud groan that escapes his mouth.

“Gonna have to stay a lil’ quieter than that, Sami,” Jey laughed before peppering kisses down the length of his shaft, and licking back up with the full breadth of his tongue in one smooth glide.

The chances of anyone overhearing were minimal, but it was enough to send a thrill down Jey’s spine.

He takes his time, dragging his tongue around the head of Sami’s cock and learning all the places that elicit those sweet gasps and whines from the other man.

Sami’s fast breaths turn to pleas for more, and Jey obliges, taking the full length of his cock into his mouth. It’s length is just enough to stretch into his throat and the full weight of it on Jey’s tongue is intoxicating.

He swallows around Sami’s cock and takes a few slow breaths through his nose, moaning to send vibrations through the ginger’s body.

Sami’s grip on his hair is tight, just this side of painful, and it makes Jey’s dick ache. He feels precum leaking out and creating a wet spot in his underwear, and he’s hit with the thought that he might just cum from pleasuring Sami alone.

Jey sucks in and hollows his cheeks, reaching back to put his hand on Sami’s in his hair, pressing their hands and his head down further on Sami’s length, hoping that the other man gets the picture. Which he does, based on the groan he lets out and the tug on his curls that drags him back up to wrap his lips around the full pink head of Sami’s cock.

He lets Sami control his movements, setting a slow deliberate rhythm with Jey’s mouth and tongue, as Jey lets his hands wander again, dragging up over the curve of Sami’s belly and rubbing his thumbs in circles over those sweet puffy nipples.

Sami’s body hair is softer than Jey ever would have imagined, like he could curl up and take a nap right on the man’s chest and never move again.

“So fuckin’ good, Jey- feels so good,” Sami’s words spur Jey’s movements, lightly pinching on his nipples before rubbing his thumbs along the meat of his tits, watching up from below as they jiggle.

Sami’s hips are shaking, and Jey thinks maybe the other man’s knee is aching from sitting in one place for so long, but when there’s movement it’s Sami’s good leg that moves forward to the tent in his shorts, gently putting pressure against the head of his dick.

Jey’s vision whites for a moment at the sudden contact.

“Take what you need, baby, M’not gonna last long,” Sami says, and it’s all the permission Jey needs to rut his hips forward, groaning at the friction of his cock against Sami’s shin.

It’s dirty and desperate, but Jey can’t find it within himself to care.

He’s bobbing faster on Sami’s dick now, bringing his hands back down to steady Sami’s still shaking hips. It’s a heady power trip, feeling how much pleasure he’s bringing to this man that he loves so much.

That’s what this is, what his feelings have become. He loves Sami with everything he has, and there’s no going back after this.

“Jey,” Sami’s nearly whimpering, “Jey, baby- stop m’gonna-“ His fingers tug to pull Jey off of his dick, but Jey’s never been one to see something halfway through.

He takes a breath through his nose instead, pushing forward to bury his nose in Sami’s soft pubic hair, taking the full length of him into his mouth and throat.

Sami cries and its the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard, feels the twitch of his dick on his tongue and in his throat as Sami cums.

He bucks his own hips twice more and his cock spurts all over the inside of his shorts, and he’s moaning again, wringing the last drops of pleasure out of Sami before his hands push him off.

“Too much,” Sami’s breath is heavy but he’s smiling, “You’re too much babe.”

Jey licks his lips, savoring the last of the taste of Sami’s skin as he pulls the joggers back up over the man’s hips.

Sami looks down at Jey’s very much no longer tented shorts, eyes wide.

“Did you-?”

He laughs, “Like a damn high schooler, yeah.”

“Lucky for you, I got some extra pants in my bag,”

Jey stands, his knees protesting, especially doing all that after a fight. Probably not the smartest thing he’s ever done, but he can’t find it in himself to regret it.

Sami stands too, bringing him in for another kiss. He can’t believe he gets to do this now, can really have this.

Reality creeps in though as their lips part, Sami reaching back to the couch for his discarded hoodie.

“We’re gonna have to head back to the hotel soon, they’re gonna wonder where we are.”

Jey drops his head to rest on Sami’s shoulder, groaning defeatedly.

“Please tell me you got a separate room from those fools?” He asks, but he knows the answer. There’s no way he could sneak away from his brothers for a whole night. Especially not tonight.

Sami shakes his head and laughs. “Sorry, babe. Had to plan with Paul to even get in here.”

“And when do you leave?” The question hurts to ask.

“Tomorrow afternoon. I’ve got a follow up appointment I need to get to Monday morning, or you know I’d stay.”

“I know,” Their bubble of happiness is about to burst way sooner than he anticipated. “Just wish I could hold you tonight, s’all.”

He feels a warm kiss press to the top of his head, “I know- at least we can get some breakfast in the morning, huh? Some waffles? And it’s two weeks until you get a whole week off.”

The two weeks might as well be two months for all that it helps Jey right now. He pulls his head back up, stopping to give Sami one quick press of lips, that turns to two, then three. Just brushing their lips together.

“We gonna spend every single day in bed, you know that?”

Sami laughs, “I think we can make that happen.” He turns to rummage in his bag, tossing Jey a pair of shorts.

Jey grumbles, “Time to face the music I guess.”

The anxiety of losing the fight, what Roman’s reaction will be to them losing the belts, creeps back in. He can feel his shoulders tensing up already.

“Hey now, none of that.”

As Jey tugs the new shorts on, Sami is there when he gets to full height, dropping another kiss on his forehead. “I told you before, we’re in this together. No shouldering this on your own this time.”

Jey swallows, nodding his head. “Okay, Sami.”

They leave together, taking a rental back to the hotel, Jey wishing each minute were longer as he enjoys the feeling of Sami’s fingers in his own.

Two weeks. Two weeks and he can take his time with Sami. Love him the way that he deserves.

At least he’ll be away from whatever wrath Roman is about to throw at them.

----

Thinking 1 more part to deal with the fallout of Wrestlemania and let Jey worship his man the way he wants to :)

Thank you to everyone reading- it means the world to me 🤍

Happy Smackdown Night!

[transienturl]

And now for something completely different: a random product review!

This is a Port Authority Xcape BG100 computer backpack, with print-on-demand customization by Spreadshirt/Spreadshop. In the US, it retails for $27+tax from Mozilla's apparently-official merch shop, which regularly has free shipping promotions.

Now, first off, and importantly when considering this an ostensible piece of branded merchandise: the Firefox Aurora logo (now Nightly, but I'm sure you can see why Aurora was the original name/branding) that I picked here is apparently a terrible choice for generic print-on-demand, since the teal color it fades to at the upper right is probably way too saturated to be printable with a lot of processes. Mozilla probably shouldn't offer this design on this product, and I can't say anything about how good Spreadshirt's print accuracy is based on this.

That being said, in this particular case I don't actually care about this at all; if you just told me the result is a random (natural-gas-flame-themed?) alternative colorway for the Firefox logo I'd believe you:

Now, on to more practical matters. This product is, for some reason, $27. The same backpack on Amazon, without customization, is... $32. The bottom-of-the-barrel Amazon Basics backpack that appears when I search "backpack" on Amazon is $24. We're not talking about some $250 LTT bullshit here; the bar is somewhere around "it doesn't suck," and it definitely doesn't suck.

Size is important. I wouldn't call this a huge bag in length and width, but the claimed 7" depth seems about right and makes for a pretty voluminous interior. The angle shown on the sale page rather undersells the depth; the manufacturer's image might oversell it a bit (that one's pretty stuffed) but I would call it a reasonable, practical size.

The laptop pocket is described as fitting "most 17" laptop computers," and I think that's about right, maybe a bit optimistic considering how huge a 17" gaming laptop is these days. A typical 16" gaming laptop should fit fine (not going to bother to borrow my friend's to try it unless someone asks). I don't put my laptop directly in my bag, though, I put it in a sleeve, and a 16" M1 Macbook Pro in a padded sleeve just fits through the side zipper, which is what I need it to do, so, hey. I would call it minimally padded; I haven't tried other tech backpacks so I don't know what the standard is here but I would not want to put my laptop in without a sleeve. The separate laptop compartment and sleeve are more than it looks like you get on a lot of cheap backpacks, though.

Besides that, there are half-height and full-height flat front pockets, one with an organizer (with a zippered mesh; manufacturer pic is a bit old), and then the one big main compartment. No comments here; that's about how I'd do it. It's not much organization, but a lot of space efficiency if you're packing e.g. clothes. The zipper for the large compartment is angled, as you can see in the pic, which I think is smart. The elastic water bottle mesh pockets on the sides seem to work (my old bag's weren't deep enough and so the bottle would fall out, making them functionally useless; they probably should have angled the ones on this bag a little less but I think they're secure enough).

Build quality seems perfectly adequate; I can find no cut corners or anything chintzy, which is saying a lot for merch. Handling it, I'd easily believe you if you told me this was $60+ (and maybe it was when it came out in, I think, 2018). Zippers are large enough and smooth (plastic coil; metal body); strap padding and ventilation are reasonable; back padding and ventilation are rather good. The plastic top handle is a nice touch. (I might avoid using it if you filled the bag with something really, really dense; because of that angled zipper the handle attach point isn't on the strongest part of the bag, but whatever).

I have the "charcoal" color, which is a subtle two-tone. I wasn't sure if the grey would be very light, which wouldn't look great IMHO; the color is actually on the darker side, certainly darker than those photos depending on light angle, and really just makes it read as a black backpack that someone put significant effort designing some visual depth into. The use of multiple material pieces and angled stitching does look quite sharp; looking at it, I'd probably believe you if you told me it was $120?

So, in conclusion, uh... I dunno. I can't immediately think of anything I would change about it, and while I haven't tried any other competing products, it seems better-designed, better-looking, and less expensive than other similar things you could buy, and I guess it's also technically Firefox (or whatever else you want if you just go on Spreadshirt) merch.

Buy used stuff, obviously, when you can, and consider more environmentally friendly fabrics or whatever. But other than that, yeah, sure, if you need a backpack go buy this. It's cheaper than the price bump for a year of ad-free Tumblr, so that's something.

[pb-dot]

Peebs Vent: Mental Health Care

People who follow this lil' blog with some regularity may have picked up on the oh-so-subtle theme of Peebs having some Mental Health Challenges. These days, I'm basically in some sort of treatment limbo since my last therapist retired, and we basically got to the point that he doesn't really know what to do about me anyway. So, as one often does with problems that people don't know the answer to, I've escalated it up to the public healthcare service. Around here, this is usually a good thing since these services are pretty good at establishing a goal-oriented treatment plan and getting people through that.

People with average or better reading comprehension may have noted that I said it's usually a good thing, and I say this because for me it hasn't really worked out so far. You see, the poor dears don't seem to know what to do about me either, as one consultation to establish the abovementioned plan turned into two and now three, and I have no real idea about how long this is going to go on.

This time around, the psychiatrist who I spoke with questioned me about what I'd do if I got the message that they couldn't help me. This one is a particular fear of mine, and I spent some time explaining why, how I find life teetering right on the brink of the unmanageable, and how I need something, anything really, to be wrong that can be fixed because I don't see myself surviving in the world as it appears to me, and frankly I don't see anyone else doing it either.

It's pretty grim stuff, and I find myself wondering if I should change track a bit. It is true that I find myself relying on something to change, for someone to figure out my medication situation, for someone to help me with the goddamned anxiety that makes social interactions with all but my closest friends a nightmare, for someone to help me manage the dark thoughts and compulsive need to be a people pleaser, for an employer who isn't perfectly content with letting me work myself into burnout again.

I'm not asking for the world on a platter here. I'm asking to be provided with the tools to ensure my own survival and good health. Nobody has to help me pull myself out of this hole that the years have dug in my psyche, just get me a rope and I'll do it my fucking self. Mais non. No can do. We're really flummoxed by this whole "hole" situation despite our business ostensibly being holes (phrasing?)

So I've been thinking, maybe it's time to stop thinking of this as an existential threat to myself. If nothing else, maybe reframing it a bit would help with the anxiety. Parts of me already think of this attempt at getting me into treatment that actually does anything as Society's last chance to avoid me turning into a Problem. I don't like taking up space in other people's lives or being any kind of problem or bother, it's a bad habit that years of anxiety and being somewhat of an outcast might get you, but maybe it's what's needed here.

I could be quite the problem if I put my mind to it I'm pretty sure. I come from a long line of stubborn farmers and even more stubborn bureaucrats, and I don't exactly think I'd be easier to deal with if I stopped pouring all this anger and disappointment into myself and started turning it outward. Is it reasonable? Maybe not, but it's not exactly great for me to internalize it either and that hasn't stopped me before.

So, I ask myself. Why not. Why not become a pain in the ass? Why not make my problems into the world's problems. Why not become disruptive and stubborn and pour my every waking moment into making dealing with me in a quiet and painless way impossible? I wouldn't change anything I'm pretty sure, but it's not like my current approach is doing any better in that regard.

This isn't to say I look forward to my villain era, such as it is. Truth is, I don't particularly want to, mostly because being a disruptive asshole sounds both emotionally and mentally taxing, but also because I just find my temperament not vibing well with that kind of thing. It's not a perfect solution, but I guess it's at least not wanting to bring harm to myself? I suppose that is something.

Either way, I'm not done with these endless assessments, so there's always the hope that I end up actually getting some help. In related news, there's always the chance I'll win the lottery.

[unaffiliatedpangolin]

Ostensibly the reason for taxes is that it’s used to pay for things that benefit the common good of the people.

But when the roads suck, education system sucks, illegals are being given benefits, infrastructure is deteriorating, mega corporations are given subsidies, money is sent to foreign countries, police are protecting criminals, why are we expected to pay?

There is no common good. It’s a cash grab by the people in power at the direct expense of all of us.

[littleeyesofpallas]

Something I feel like a lot of people are missing about The Menu is how it's really not meant to be some kind of class conscious scree against rich people being rich. (Hell, half the cast are just on the upper end of middle class, still decidedly working class, and Slowik is in the same tax bracket as half of them.) The whole central thrust of the film is about an artist/crafter and his career and his relationship to his art/craft. You get into a job because you're good at it, and because you enjoy it, but as a person who is known for being "good" at a thing there is a pressure, professionally and publicly to be better, and continue to be better, and as you rise to the top of your field there are strings that come attached to that thing you once enjoyed being good at...

"Margot" isn't just an escort, she's a high end escort, it's why she's with Tyler at Hawthorne's in the first place, it's why one of her clients is the man who's been there a dozen times. When he asks her if she likes her job and she says she used to, and it resonates with him, that's part of what that's about.

As a chef he can't make experimental, high concept, or even just high quality food without the facilitation of his investor, his reputation, and a clientele that will patronize him. He can only continue to be a cook under extremely specific circumstances and every step upwards he takes in that craft takes him further away from what he enjoyed as well as what is ostensibly the point of being a chef. He's making food for a clientele that will never and fundamentally can never really appreciate what he does.

When John Leguizamo's character laughs about how bad a movie Calling Dr. Sunshine was, but says it was a fun shoot, only for Slowik to single it out as the reason for his disgust. The joke isn't just that he's being unreasonably petty, it's that question of what the point of it all is. Is being a filmstar about having fun on set, and making silly behind the scenes stories, or is it about making an enjoyable film?

(and what is the love of funny behind the scene anecdotes, of special features, and "making of..."s and actor interviews, if not exactly Tyler's fanboyish demystification of an art? You learn and memorize and regurgitate all the little factoids about the thing you've consumed in its aftermath; you bury it in trivia without having spent the time with what it actually was.)

Is being a chef about self gratification as an artist/craftsman, or is it about making an enjoyable meal? Is being a sex worker about sex being mutually intimately enjoyable, or is it about satisfying one person's specific need?

When someone becomes a film director, are they obligated to be a good one? Does being a good director mean winning awards? Does being a good director mean being self serious as an artist? Does being a good director mean having a message? Does it mean making films that are intellectual, and challenging to the detriment of basic watchability? Do the people who arbitrate what makes "good" film even care about watchability? Can a film be both "art" and "fun"?

The Menu is the answer to its own question. It's a well conceived, well written, well acted film with an all star cast, it's well shot, (mostly) well paced, and well constructed. Its visuals are pretty, and clean, geometric, and deliberate. It is in fact intellectual, it does in fact have a message BUT it is funny, it is at times very stupid, it is exciting and self indulgent and, if not for its high mechanical polish, at time bordering on thriller shlock. And that's the fucking point.

The question it puts to the audience, with the fullest possible context of why such a question should even be asked, is simple: For all your skill as a chef, can you even make just a simple satisfying cheeseburger? For all your skill as a director can you even make just a simple satisfying movie?

"I don't think you can..." Margot puts to Slowik, not as a legitimate challenge or doubt cast on his skill, but with the fullest understanding that all he wants, all he needs, is for someone to actually ask of him the one thing he actually wants to make. And The Menu is the cheeseburger; one, simple, good cheeseburger. Basic. Common. Satisfying. Yet made with the meticulous attention to detail and precision of a skilled, and indeed overqualified master artisan. It's a fun and well made thriller movie made for the sole and singular, self edifying purpose of proving that a movie can be both "good" and entertaining.

[thegreatbacon]

The Coming Discourse Vacuum

Food for thought in a post-Twitter world

I originally published this piece 2022-11-18 on my blog, but then forgot to share lol. Thought it was relevant again with the Twitter/Reddit/Bluesky/Threads talk this past month.

There is no doubt that Twitter is collapsing. Millions of bytes have flown over the last few weeks describing the chaos both on the platform and in the private domain of its offices. Advertisers have pulled out, poorly thought out technical decisions have been made, hastily designed products have shipped, the majority of staff have either been fired or walked out the door, and the new owner and CEO is publicly melting down ON the platform for all the world to see. Some real grade A content if you will. The Adam McKay movie is writing itself. Yet as dumb as the whole saga is, it feels like there’s clearly something else at stake here, some sort of loss being felt. As much of a carnival as Twitter has always been, there is social value in it.

The widespread recording and reporting of police brutality in communities leading to the Black Lives Matter movement and the George Floyd protests of 2020 likely couldn’t have occurred without it. Last year when a wildfire broke out in the north suburbs of Denver, I used the platform to get almost real-time info and pass it on to friends and family living close to the disaster.

It’s the place to go for breaking & front page news. To hear the latest japes and gossip. It’s one of the town squares of the internet. And now it’s on fire while a lone, pathetic, billionaire is trying to rip it apart and sell it for scrap after buying it on a whim.

So, what’s next?

Some people are starting to look for the future in newer, less established spaces. But what if before our society immediately moves on to the next big thing, we take a step back to dream of a green field. If we could do it all over again, what should it look like?

To start with let’s talk about the elephant in the room, Mastodon, which is one of the new things that people have been migrating towards. Mastodon is part of the Fediverse, a collection of open source tools and platforms that prize decentralized architecture first and foremost. This means allowing anyone to host their own instance of a server and then connecting it to other servers in a federated model to gain network effects.

So instead of just one single giant ship plying the shitposting seas, it’s a bunch of rafts lashed together. If you don’t like how things are going, you can untie your raft and set off on your own. Or that’s the idea anyway.

But in my experience I’ve found the whole system unintuitive and overwhelming despite the fact that I write software for a living. Where am I supposed to make an account? How do I make sure I’m in the same network as the funny people I was following on Twitter? Does anyone in this federation even live in my state?

The barrier to entry is too high and the core architecture of Fediverse software fragments the new social network right out of the gate, undermining the very reason Twitter was useful in the first place. The replacement has to be centralized, it has to be the same place everyone agrees to show up. That’s how town squares work.

Another consideration for this future digital town square should be democratic controls baked into it from the start. The goal here is to keep any one particular petulant owner from taking control of the whole thing. This is ostensibly the purpose of federation in Mastodon, but I’m talking about even lower level controls. Elected moderators to patrol the space and ways to debate and decide the rules that govern the space. Baked in polls for voting on anything from names to new channels to modifying community guidelines. Focus on democratically controlling a single instance from within its own framework before jumping straight to federation.

Lastly, just like how a good tax base helps keep public places clean and maintained, this theoretical future platform would need some mechanism for collecting monetary support from its users, instead of an ad driven model. Ad driven platforms will always be forced to sacrifice the user experience for driving advertiser metrics.Instead let's talk about things like up-front registration fees or monthly supporter tiers, cosmetic items or badges for purchase, and publicly published operational budgets so users know how much they need to open their wallets. We could even dream of an honest to god new state-run utility that can actually levy taxes to manage and operate the platform!

As I’m writing this piece, one of the top trends on Twitter is literally #RIPTwitter. Even if the website technically lives on past tonight, it’s clear that it has lost the trust and confidence of its community, the lifeblood of any social media platform. So as we stagger out of this burning square, we should all take a moment to unplug, touch some grass, talk to our friends and family around our kitchen tables, and take a deep breath. In that moment of quiet, let’s dream about something better, before we go back to looking for something to fill the vacuum.

[thesylverlining]

Do you know how many people live in DC (where i used to live) and Puerto Rico, ostensibly US citizens, and have absolutely no say in their federal government? They can't vote in elections. They're not states! They pay taxes but get no representation!

That's why the DC slogan you see on license plates a lot there is "Taxation Without Representation." it's real and it's so fucked up and yes, DC is full of Black people (which you never see on TV or movies set there, for Some Reason) and if it and Puerto Rico had the right to vote every other American is Supposed to have (whether they actually have it or not)

So yeah this would absolutely terrify Republicans and it should have happened already years and years ago. Fucking hell let's DO IT.

Honestly, this sounds fucking FANTASTIC to me, and we should do it. Cry harder, Mitch.

[anthonybialy]

RFK? LOL OK

The one pretending to no longer be a Democrat endorsed the other.  Robert Kennedy Junior and Donald Trump are both ostensibly party-hoppers.  But you can feel assured that the new partners will continue to tell you how to live while indulging in the wrong kind of paranoia.  The perfect matches can forward emails featuring supposed election thieves and rotten trope-based slurs to each other.

The ultimate self-made man is so dedicated to being his own person that he uses his initials.  That includes the middle one, which coincidentally was the same letter used by some other political figure.  Why should it be Junior’s fault that styling his name in that random manner brings to mind whoever his father was?

Noting who the family is is the family business.  A bootlegger spawned a series of increasingly undeserving generations.  I’d trust Uncle Ted as a driving instructor before anything his shrillest nephew claims about the environment melting.

Do as you’re told to establish independence.  Sophisticated modern Republicans are not going to adhere to preposterous concepts based in sensible ideas.  There’s no need for constitutional fidelity and the same tax rate for all when you can dominate anyone who won’t submit.

You’re obeying the will of which people?  Populism is another term for what a lot of dolts believe.  The most awful conspiracy dreck paired with innate negativity have replaced hopes of ever getting government out of insurance.  The potential new HHS secretary will see to that.

RFK Junior pairing with Trump is like chocolate with peanut butter for the tasteless.  There’s no need to shepherd the easily guided with anything inspirational or helpful or true.  Just claim the whole system is crooked to produce a gritty Network reboot.

Thorough corruption must be the reason why the fearless outsider and biggest winner couldn’t drain the swamp or beat Joe Biden.  Everyone’s out to get you except for the person who told you that, of course.  He’s the only honest man, and it’s a blessing that you’re able to discern such.

You want an old hand at lunacy by your side.  J.D. Vance is only the pretend underling now.  The amateur can’t keep up with the new trendy hire.

Professional plotter Kennedy has been at the forefront of every major bit of nonsensical blather of his adult lifetime.  What’s the craziest of the insanity?  There’s nobody who hates needles more than the premier enemy of vaccines, and not just the slapdash glorified flu shot that got hastily churned out by contemporary troglodytes who purport to believe in science.  Harming children by encouraging their parents to not protect them from disease is his gift to the next generation.

Kennedy’s demented haranguing about what’s good for kids is particularly rich for someone claiming what’s on cafeteria trays is poisoned, as of course Trump does now.  Processing food makes it deadly, according to advocates of consuming dirt.  There’s nothing new about his presumption that the baseless is accurate.  Claiming the CIA murdered his relatives is one way to respect them and reality.

The saboteur is the loudest one on stage.  The real intrigue centers around why Republicans are pretending their party hasn’t been commandeered by someone who’s only principle is collecting genuflecting.  Whatever those he deems to be worthwhile claim is treated as absolute truth.  The new alleged pal could claim jet fuel can’t melt steel and get thunderous applause from the red hat brigade.  I hope he doesn’t try it to see.

A person who’s never had to carry cash established what his soul is worth.  Those who aren’t for sale are left out.  The alliance of one angry ranter who’s prominent despite sense and decency with the other makes sick sense.  People who just want fewer federal agencies have nowhere to hang out.  Now, there’s an establishment to battle.

A Kennedy sucking up to a Trump should irk fans of both.  The prototypical sellout must be running out of money his ancestors pilfered.  That’d be quite a legacy.  Everyone else is a RINO, claims the person who’s now BFF with the embodiment of Democrats.  And Trump will be way softer on Cuba and taxes than his buddy’s presidential uncle.

It’s easy to guess which side has shifted leftward when both do so.  The one in question used to at least pretend to favor a smaller government.  Thinking an alliance with the nasal scold reflects poorly on the Democratic Party is surely not a sign of getting the deal’s raw end, so block that idea out of mind.  Trump is the best businessman ever, remember? Nobody’s had a good steak since he stopped peddling them on QVC.

Pretending the debt accumulator who runs away from conflict is a fearless conservative is fitting for dupes who think believing the most outlandish claims keeps them from being gullible.  The ostentatiously suspicious think their prophet outfoxed foes by getting a presidential dropout on his side when it really means Republicans nominated an unhinged liberal.  The useless parasitic progeny aligned with the son of shady real estate tyrant in the name of common values.

Liberal schemes are now part of the Republican enterprise.  Teaming up with someone who’s tiresome even for a Kennedy is actually perfect for Trump.  The loyalty baron didn’t just happen to go with the guy set up by his rich father: the tag team is on a quest to claim they’re outsiders while uniting with the worst of the insiders.  Doing so at the same time embodies efficiency.  That’s the closest the new Kennedy faction gets to free markets.

[turtlemagnum]

anywayss a lot of shit happened during that rant. ken got shot with arrows. which, y'know. i think it was literally the second episode where it was established that he can just catch those things out of the air like a goddamn ninja, but sure, it's not like him getting shot is gonna have any real consequences. also, remember that time he got shot with fucking cannons and was able to survive because, and i fucking quote: "Hokuto Shinken allows you to turn your skin as hard as iron!", end fucking quote. but sure, arrows pierce his skin, the man who can kick a wrecking ball so hard that it shatters like glass is having a bit of trouble lifting a 600 pound dude out of a quicksand pit, whatever. i'm fucking tired.

anyways that brings me to this guy. he attacked ken with cloths. not clothes. cloths, like these scarf things that just wrapped around him, in what almost assuredly awoke the bondage kink of countless of the impressionable kids that watched this show back in the day, much like that one mind control episode with the hot lady probably did for mind control kinks. i'm not saying it was intentional, but i'd be willing to bet my left nut that both of those statements are true for at least one kid living in 1980s japan, who probably has to work a job and pay taxes now, as an adult, 40 years later. and i'm left nut dominant, so you know i mean that with vigor. anyways yeah sure ken's struggling to breathe thru these glorified scarves and he cant move and all that, real fuckin convincing, im sure that'll last more than the commercial break. the archive i'm watching this thru doesn't have the commercials so every now and again in the middle of thick action ken just goes "A-TA!!!!" and does a little kick in the middle of the screen for ostensibly no reason given the lack of the aforementioned commercials. it can be really pace breaking at times, and it's happened more than once that it happens right in the middle of a fight so i think it's just ken going A-TAA! normally because this show has a really unclear editing style at times and just sorta cuts whenever the producer felt like that day. anyways, what i'm trying to get at , is, ,,

this guy. how do you think this guy got that idea, got someone to make it, and presumably managed to get it to work well enough that he thinks it's a good idea to use this instead of like, y'know, stabbing dudes normally with a knife or a sword or a spear. this show's actually pretty good at times showing off how spears would probably be the standard weapon for normal people that don't have guns or the Superpowers of Aikido Jesus on their side, like if you look at it from both a historical and a practical perspective there's a reason why spears were pretty much always the go-to for an Actual Fighting Weapon before guns were widespread. native americans were smart enough that they never even developed swords in the first place, because they kinda suck for actual fighting or hunting relative to the trusty and reliable spear, anyways i'm getting sidetracked, what waas i talking about?

right, ok,, oso, the thing with this chestpiece thing is that it folds out like some kinda fucked up reverse juesus that the thousand blades poke out of instead of into, a bit like a switchblade but backwards-like

(Scribe's Note: I have no idea what the FUCK he meant by "a bit like a switchblade but backwards-like" (sic), my life is fleeting and I'm stuck here transcribing this muck. My hand is cramping up and my flowers are wilting because I haven't been able to water them because they're making me write this blasphemous, wretched cultch so I can "Become a real scholar, like your father!" Which is a frankly grievous misunderstanding of what I wanted out of life, but it's not like I have any other career options after they gelded me... Anyways, fuck this guy and fuck these archaic 1000s era children's divertimenti. I pray to any god that will listen that I finish transcribing this hazardous recrement quickly and furthermore that my "Superiors" do not read the margins I write these lamentations in.)

what was that guy on about. anyways, why did this guy think this was a good idea? did he try it out on someone? how did he not accidentally auto-castration himself with the wretched mechanism? the knives seemed to be pointed inward and they dont seem to fold in, what's going on with that. this guy just tried to kill 2 children with a quicksand pit. why does he have such a love for elaborate and inefficient means of murdelizing those whom he wishes harm be enacted upon? how has he survived this long into the apocalypse? has he only killed children so far? because i feel like even a kid might be able to put up a fight against mr knife dick over there. can you tell it's been a while since i slept? to break kayfabe for a moment, this is an exaggerated version of myself that i'm portraying a bit, but this whole thing just spewed out of me like a creative 10 gauge buckshot. what.

[sa7abnews]

Week-in-Review: How Labour plans to weaponise its dismal inheritance

New Post has been published on https://sa7ab.info/2024/08/06/week-in-review-how-labour-plans-to-weaponise-its-dismal-inheritance/

Week-in-Review: How Labour plans to weaponise its dismal inheritance

The below content first appeared in Politics.co.uk’s Week-in-Review newsletter, sign-up for free here and never miss this article. Arguably the general election’s defining phrase was coined, not by one of the prime ministerial contenders or their insurgent rivals, but Institute for Fiscal Studies (IFS) chief Paul Johnson. Throughout the campaign, Johnson accused both the Conservative and Labour parties of peddling a self-serving “conspiracy of silence��, over the scale of the economic and fiscal challenge awaiting the next administration.  Rishi Sunak and his likely successor, Keir Starmer, were said to be shunning unpalatable trade-offs, consciously refusing to level with the public about the choices they plan to make. The criticism featured most prominently after the Tory and Labour manifesto launches. Johnson’s reasoning was simple: the state of the public finances meant that both parties would need either need to raise taxes by more than outlined, implement spending cuts, or borrow more and be content for debt to rise for longer. In the end, the manifestos’ exclusions, silences and half-measure commitments spoke volumes about the UK parties’ political anxieties — lest the contenders stand accused either of continuity austerity or Corbyn-esque tax rises. Both the Conservative and Labour campaigns, Johnson affirmed, stood culpable for the election’s dismal economic debate: Sunak wanted to disguise the state’s ills, and Starmer his bitter remedies. (The election result would suggest the former failed and the latter succeeded). But the burden of criticism was shouldered by Starmer first and foremost, relative certainly to the imminently irrelevant Sunak. After all, Johnson insisted that there was more at stake here, in refusing to address fiscal reality, than the “books’” precarious balancing act. At this most opportune juncture, Starmer was shirking the responsibility to forge a broad consensus in favour of addressing the state’s underlying malaise. Fiscal delusion, Johnson implied, would inspire political disillusion in the long-run — with the ostensibly victorious conspirator set to pay dearly, in time, for under-handed tax hikes. But behind Labour’s veil of silence, the party was coming to terms with its inheritance with intensifying horror. Starmer’s chief of staff, former Whitehall supremo Sue Gray, was reported months before the election to have compiled a “sh*t list” of various blazing departmental bin fires Labour would be responsible for hosing upon entering office. Publicly, of course, Starmer sought to slight Sunak’s economic record by highlighting the dire fiscal situation — using it, as well, to justify the thinner elements of his manifesto.  In this regard, Conservative spokespeople charged that Labour was being far from open about its economic agenda for government. Throughout the campaign, the party argued vociferously Starmer would wean covert tax rises into his fiscal plans by opening “the books” and dishonestly declaring the situation “even worse than we thought”. This prospect was heightened after Labour’s Nick Thomas-Symonds suggested in an interview with Times Radio, in no uncertain terms, that Labour could discover the public finances are “even worse” than expected upon entering government. “Oh dear, oh dear”, a dismayed Paul Johnson reacted.  However, Rachel Reeves also appeared to rule out this possibility in an interview with the Financial Times. “We’ve got the OBR now,” the shadow chancellor noted, referring to the UK’s fiscal watchdog. “We know things are in a pretty bad state”, she said. “You don’t need to win an election to find that out.” In sum, a combination of Reeves’ comments, Labour’s tax and spend plans, the government’s fiscal rules and the state of the national finances had backed Labour into a corner. As Starmer wandered into No 10 Downing Street, something needed to break. The primary feature of a political Omertà — propped up by rival actors — is that it only exists as long as the political interests of said actors remain aligned. Starmer’s victory and Sunak’s defeat, in short, have utterly shattered the fiscal “conspiracy of silence”.  In her inaugural speech as chancellor, Reeves noted that the new government was inheriting “the worst set of circumstances since the Second World War”; it’s a fact, she stated, Labour had “repeatedly warned” of during the campaign. “What I have seen in the past 72 hours has only confirmed that.” ***Politics.co.uk is the UK’s leading digital-only political website. Subscribe to our daily newsletter for all the latest election news and analysis.*** But over time, with more “books” presumably perused, Labour’s rhetoric escalated. In turn, the party’s scrutiny has shifted beyond the Treasury’s depleted coffers. The prisons crisis is “worse than thought”, Starmer warned in his first week in office. On Tuesday, home secretary Yvette Cooper revealed the now-scrapped Rwanda scheme cost the taxpayer £700 million in total — far more than her predecessors had stated. At prime minister’s questions on Wednesday, Starmer claimed that the government is facing “a more severe crisis than we thought as we go through the books”, with “failure absolutely everywhere”. Finally, setting out Labour’s clean energy plans on Thursday, the prime minister told reporters that ministers are “finding more mess” every single day. Labour’s crescendoing rhetoric is set to culminate with a speech from Rachel Reeves on Monday, pinpointing a £20 billion “black hole” in the public finances. That figure, the result of a Whitehall-wide audit of shortfalls in funding plans, follows weeks in which ministers have scoured their departments for concealed schemes and unrevealed liabilities. “This is beginning to lift the lid on exactly what they did”, a Labour source told the Financial Times of Reeves’ address. Many, Conservatives especially, expect the speech to pave the way for tax rises later this year. There are a few explanations for the rate and intensity with which Labour has shattered the fiscal “conspiracy of silence”. First, there is the raw politics: over the past few weeks, ministers have been honing a narrative of Conservative mal-governance — and during a period when the vanquished party languishes in the electoral doldrums no less, far too busy navel-gazing and wound-attending to muster a fight back. Simultaneously, popular recollections of the last government’s failings are — by nature of the passing of time — stronger now than they ever will be. Reeves’ £20 billion figure, Labour hopes, will, (1), crystallise public feeling in favour of short-term fiscal fixes; and, (2), lock the Conservatives out of power for a decade or more.  Labour also faces a second, joint imperative: managing expectations in the country and the parliamentary party. Research from Thinks Insight and Strategy has found that nearly two-thirds of people (62 per cent) believe that even if the Starmer administration is effective “it will take a year or two before we start seeing improvement”. By foregrounding Labour’s dismal inheritance, therefore, Starmer intends to buy more time — and do so during a period of post-election political engagement, when the public just might listen. Moreover, polling conducted prior to the election suggested the public largely expects the next government to raise taxes. An Ipsos poll conducted for the FT in May showed 56 per cent anticipate Labour will raise taxes. It’s not an overwhelming consensus, but the figure suggests tax hikes are, to some extent at least, already priced in to voter expectations. ***Politics.co.uk is the UK’s leading digital-only political website. Subscribe to our daily newsletter for all the latest election news and analysis.*** Meanwhile, the Labour rebellion over the two-child benefit cap this week underlines that some within the party are restless for policy change and quick fixes, (discontent with universal credit limit spreads far wider than the seven suspended rebels). Still, abolishing the two-child benefits cap would cost an estimated £3 billion, money Starmer stresses the government doesn’t have. In raising the spectre of his bleak fiscal inheritance, therefore, Starmer plans to shape expectations of what can be enacted in the medium-term. Accordingly, Labour’s condemnation of their opponent’s record is not merely politically viable, but in many senses necessary in forging popular and parliamentary consent for the actions Starmer intends to take over the coming months and years. Starmer then, is following Labour’s obvious political incentives; but his Conservative opponents are nonetheless furious.  Shadow chancellor Jeremy Hunt, for one, accused Labour of peddling plain “nonsense” on Friday. Responding to reports of Reeves’ upcoming speech, he labelled trailed claims as “nothing but a fabrication”.“The books have been wide open since the OBR was set up 14 years ago”, he clamoured.  But Hunt’s righteous indignation is revealing, above all, of the Conservative Party’s sudden, stark impotence. Following Reeves’ “black hole” speech, Labour may well go on to raise taxes as the headline measure of an upcoming fiscal event; in fact, that would seem the probable course of action. But this doesn’t mean the Conservatives will win any political credit for their thoughtful foretelling. The outgoing Rishi Sunak, simply, is not going to win the argument that his party handed over a glowing inheritance that now faces unnecessary ruin.  Moreover, the case Reeves will prosecute on Monday will be about far more than just balancing the books and her iron fidelity to Labour’s fiscal rules. Far more potently, the shadow chancellor will cast her Conservative opponents, deprived of office mere weeks ago, as reckless cowboys who played political games with the nation’s financial stability — ideologues who plundered Treasury coffers in the short-term, while scheduling austere restraint in future years to swindle the government’s fiscal rules. In this way, Labour will not just dodge the fiscal “trap” left by Hunt, but weave his depletion of the nation’s “fiscal headroom” into a broader narrative of Tory mismanagement and mendacious earth-salting.  During the election, Labour did not seek to win a mandate for fiscal tightening — that particular debate, Reeves resolved, was fraught with danger. But in government, the rules — both fiscal and political — are entirely Labour’s to reframe and game. Denying Hunt’s fiscal trickery, Reeves wants the Conservatives to own both their failures and any future tax hikes.   This isn’t to say Labour is avoiding risks with this line of argument. While tax hikes generally could well be sold to a public that expects them, the specific measures beg far more controversial questions. During the election, Labour ruled out touching income tax, national insurance, corporation or VAT. Reeves, of course, may already have her revenue-raising measures in mind — having repeatedly refused to rule out changing council tax or raising Capital Gains Tax hikes in the campaign. But can the chancellor construct a complete package, whatever the rhetorical framing, that commands widespread popular consent? And if the Conservatives are ill-placed to benefit from the likely political furore over “Starmer’s broken promises” — a charge Labour will face over the coming weeks — where will the political energy flow? If Starmer does track towards tax rises, however the process is styled, Labour will need to guard fiercely against a broader backlash. That, for now, explains the emphasis on Conservative mismanagement. But any resultant disillusion risks empowering actors to the Tories’ populist right. Josh Self is Editor of Politics.co.uk, follow him on X/Twitter here. Politics.co.uk is the UK’s leading digital-only political website. Subscribe to our daily newsletter for all the latest election news and analysis. Keir Starmer’s war on populism is just beginning

The post Week-in-Review: How Labour plans to weaponise its dismal inheritance .

[crazy-pages]

Yeah I'd also like to elaborate on this, just to make it very clear how sick the system is.

The fundamental concept of capitalism (as in a system oriented around capital, as in liquid money or large valuable assets) is that providing someone's endeavor with capital, with the understanding the capital may be lost or otherwise not returned, is a risk. It's a very important risk for large highly integrated societies though.

When you've got tens of thousands of people living in "small cities", it's kind of impossible to just hold capital in the commons and rely on peer relations and social expectations to ensure that this is distributed fairly and no one abuses it. There are of course all their ways to hold capital in the commons, many governments operate banks, libraries, public transit, disaster relief aid, etc. But of course these are not simple structures and the risks of direct centralized control are non-negligible. Saying that the government should control all capital and distribute it as the people need does not actually ensure that will happen.

Capitalism proposes a simple and straightforward solution to this. If somebody thinks they can make productive use of capital which they don't have, they can go to large coordinated institutions (banks) or those with surplus, and ask for some of their capital, with the understanding that they will pay them back later for that capital and then some if their venture is successful. This incentivizes people with surplus to put it to productive use, in a way that's a net gain. This also gets applied to concepts like housing or guarding against catastrophy. If you can't build a house yourself but need one now, maybe you can pay some amount more than its value at a later date to use it now. Maybe over your lifetime you can pay a bit more than you'd statistically pay for medical care or disaster relief, in exchange for access to relief capital in times of need.

And like that it doesn't sound bad. Okay cool, you give me capital and I pay you back later, and then we're square.

Except this is where the capitalist says, "Hahaha, what? Are no kidding me? No I give you the capital and then you pay me back forever."

Wait.

What?

Where the fuck was that in the premise of capitalism? The fuck? I thought this was about paying down the risk associated with bad capital investments?! Surely those risks are finite???

The capitalist laughs more. "Oh sorry, risk? No absolutely not. See the complex machinery of the commons we're ostensibly making unnecessary? We're going to demand that insure us so we actually can't experience serious losses."

The fuck?!?!

It's a magic trick. One moment you're nodding along to the explanation of mutual benefit for someone being payed back for a loan. And even if you might prefer other systems, you can still acknowledge there's at least some logic to it. Because the concept of fair finite recompense for risk is reasonable.

And the next moment it's an eternal debt. Suddenly this isn't giving someone a loan so they can open a corner store, then shaking hands when they're successful and square up with a little extra. It's becoming a shareholder of a corner store and then owning a portion of its profits as dividends forever. Sometimes the value of the labor being bartered doesn't even belong to the person doing the bartering. A CEO sells shareholders dividends, a permanent right to a fraction of the labor of people who never voted for the CEO and never agreed to give them any rights over their labor except implicitly in where they chose to work (just as peasants once implicitly 'chose' which lords to give taxes and levies to by where they chose to live).

Suddenly It's not a mortgage, paying a bit extra to get access to a large discrete object of value before you've produced that much value in your own life. Suddenly it's rent. An exchange of money which will never convert ownership to you no matter how much you pay. An eternal indebtedness for a finite investment by the capital owner.

Suddenly the amount owed is a percentage, while the amount given remains finite and bounded. And the profits earned by capitalism are the right to make more capital investments. To own an even greater fraction of the pie. A right safeguarded and insured by the very commons which apparently can't be used to grant housing, which can only give limited loans with countless strings to very specific parties.

But where in all of the justifications of capitalism, the mutual net gain, the risk, where in all of that did the concept of trading a permanent fraction of your labor for a finite investment come from? How is that allowed?! How is that not outright forbidden in the same way it's not legal to have someone sign away their human rights? How?!

(The historical answer is simple: The inventors of the modern capitalist market were French nobility looking for a way to maintain noble privilege and taxes in a world that was increasingly hostile to monarchy.)

But the practical answer is even simpler. Desperation and concentration of power. People who need capital, whether that's a business loan or a need for housing, aren't in much of position to withhold that need. People with surplus are by definition in a position to withhold that surplus though. And it's fundamentally easier to organize a few people with a lot, than a lot of people with a little.

Capitalism is rotten to its core because what it is does not even follow from its premise. The concept does not have to be based on infinite growth. The idea of fair exchange of additional later repayment for present risk is not inherently bad. It doesn't have to include infinite eternal repayment that's compounded forever by the profits of that eternal repayment.

But it's impossible to extricate from the on-the-ground reality of the system. Which is that capitalism is a replacement for good complicated democratic stewardship of the commons by an exchange negotiated between those who have resources and those who do not. And those who do not have resources and do not have the safety net of a commons will never be able to negotiate fairly with those who have surplus. It's just not possible!

There's nothing innately wrong with finitely bounded additional payments in exchange for the risk of investment. But there is something fundamentally wrong with it being the foundation of how you negotiate your society's commons. Because if it is, then you have no way of preventing it from becoming something much much worse.

[collymore]

Shouldn't vile denunciations like yours Mark Duell, not be supported by clearly verifiable corroboration?

By Stanley Collymore

Harry and Meghan - and very specifically so Meghan - bellows Mark Duell from the pages of the Daily Mail, where else? - literally snubbed from an event, significantly so the Windsor Balmoral gathering. And obviously, discernibly, although actually very conveniently not mentioned, an invitation which the pair crucially, had no intention of accepting or essentially simply quite specifically attending in the first place. How totally dramatic!

(C) Stanley V. Collymore 3 August 2024.

Author's Remarks: Harry and Meghan have actually declined every invitation they've ever received, even from his late grandmother, Liz Windsor, to literally join them at these so-called family gatherings. So this is simply no snub from Charles and his lot, just very self- evidently a clear recognition from these self-entitled lot - both individually and also collectively - that they've finally got the message! However, that wouldn't sound rather good coming from the Daily Mail, nor would it be actually quite pleasing either to the surfeit of Windsor sycophants. So dub it then, as an epic snub to Harry and Meghan! Quite indeed! Lol!

For two people: Harry and Meghan, who're supposed to be so totally irrelevant, isn't it simply absolutely amazing how these very racist, purblind, white Karen and Gammon cunts obviously can't get enough of them! And yet it's these discernible specimens of rather unquestionably lowlife, intellectually challenged and effectively toxic scum, that crucially, distinctly like to see and likewise project themselves, not just simply as the very best Britain has to offer, but similarly as irrefutably, the Aryan standard bearers, obviously delusionally, of the white master race. While the Daily Mail actually exploits them financially and most unscrupulously through Clickbait!

Money which is generated in Britain but never spent or even banked there and when passed on no inheritance tax is ever paid; as it’s all stashed away in numerous overseas numbered bank accounts  while its owners ostensibly masquerading as patriotic Britons live as Non-Dom Brits in places quite ironically like the Bahamas, Bermuda, the Cayman Islands, the Turks and Caicos and the Virgin Islands, which while being Commonwealth countries are hardly, by any stretch of the imagination, ethnically the same as the Isle of white, the Channel Islands or the Isle of Mann for instance, bearing in mind the overt racist and rather imperialist overtones of the Daily Mail’s owners, principal employees and as well its subsidiary workers.

Then effectively adding insult to injury, happily see these gullible and very exploited morons that the Daily Mail and other media outlets like itself use across the length and breadth of Britain having to quite routinely rely on food banks or social security handouts, no problems on their part seemingly, to carry on their pathetic existences. But whoever said such white Britain and Useful Non-white scum who think like them and are happy to jump on any convenient bandwagon because their lives are so nauseatingly dull, immoral and unproductive, aren’t the epitome of Homo sapiens? Lol!  And these are the said ones who have the bloody audacity to spew their vitriolic phlegm at Harry and specifically Meghan; the reasons for which any intelligent person knows full well!

To which I very gleefully add: Roll on World War Three! As this white trash distinctively needs incinerating!