#presidential threshold

[holopiscom]

DPR Bakal Gelar FGD Tindaklanjuti Putusan MK Soal Penghapusan Presidential Threshold

JAKARTA – Parlemen bakal menggelar focus group discussion (FGD) untuk menindaklanjuti putusan Mahkamah Konstitusi (MK) yang menghapus ambang batas pencalonan presiden atau presidential threshold. Acara diskusi itu akan diikuti oleh kalangan akademisi dan praktisi di bidang pemilu, serta semua pemangku kepentingan terkait pemilu. “DPR akan mungkin membuat semacam FGD, mengundang akademisi, atau…

[riaunews]

Bamsoet Nilai Penghapusan Presidential Threshold oleh MK Bisa Memunculkan Calon Berkualitas Rendah

Bambang Soesatyo. (Foto: Kompas) Jakarta (Riaunews.com) – Anggota Komisi III DPR RI Bambang Soesatyo mengatakan putusan Mahkamah Konstitusi (MK) terkait dengan penghapusan ambang batas pencalonan presiden dan wakil presiden atau presidential threshold (PT) membawa implikasi yang kompleks bagi dinamika politik Indonesia. Di satu sisi, menurut dia, putusan MK memberikan kesempatan besar bagi partai…

[cinews-id]

Anwar Usman dan Daniel Yusmic Foekh Dissenting Opinion Dalam Putusan Presidential Threshold

JAKARTA, Cinews.id – Hakim Mahkamah Konstitusi (MK) Anwar Usman dan Daniel Yusmic Foekh menyampaikan pendapat berbeda atau dissenting opinion dalam putusan MK nomor perkara 62/PUU-XXII/2024, yang menghapus aturan ambang batas pencalonan presiden dan calon wakil presiden atau presidential threshold yang selama ini tertuang dalam Undang-Undang Pemilu. Anwar dan Daniel menilai, para pemohon yakni…

[plethoraworldatlas]

Despite growing worldwide calls for an arms embargo, the Biden administration in recent days has approved the transfer of billions of dollars worth of new weapons shipments to Israel, including warplanes and 2,000-pound bombs that have been dropped on densely populated areas of Gaza with devastating results.

The Washington Postreported Friday that the administration has "quietly" authorized arms shipments including more than 1,800 MK84 2,000-pound bombs and 500 MK82 500-pound bombs, as well as 25 F-35A fighter jets and engines worth approximately $2.5 billion. The transfers are the latest of more than 100 arms shipments authorized by the Biden administration since the October 7 attacks on Israel.

"'Quietly,'" Palestinian American writer and political analyst Yousef Munayyer scoffed in response to the report. "This is cowardly from the administration. If you are going to be full backers of genocide, own it. We see you and history sees you as well."

"It is scary to think of the world U.S. support for Israel is creating. A world with no rules, no limits in war, where norms don't exist, and where genocide is supportable," he added. "Good luck getting anyone to listen to you about international law after this."

Edward Ahmed Mitchell, deputy executive director of the Council on American Islamic Relations, said in a statement: "We strongly condemn the Biden administration's unbelievable and unconscionable decision to secretly send hundreds of new 2,000-pound bombs and other weapons to support Benjamin Netanyahu's genocide. Arming a war criminal makes you a war criminal."

According to the Post:

The 2,000-pound bombs, capable of leveling city blocks and leaving craters in the earth 40 feet across and larger, are almost never used anymoreby Western militaries in densely populated locations due to the risk of civilian casualties. Israel has used them extensively in Gaza, according to severalreports, most notably in the bombing of Gaza's Jabalia refugee camp October 31. U.N. officials decried the strike, which killed more than 100 people, as a "disproportionate attack that could amount to war crimes." Israel defended the bombing, saying it resulted in the death of a Hamas leader.

The Biden administration's arms shipments to Israel continue despite urgent pleas from United Nations officials, international human rights groups, and some progressive U.S. lawmakers to stop arming Israel's 175-day Gaza onslaught, during which Israeli bombs and bullets have killed more than 32,600 Palestinians—mostly women and children—while wounding over 75,000 others and damaging or destroying hundreds of thousands of homes, schools, hospitals, mosques, and other structures.

[bantennews]

Presidential Threshold Disebut Disalahartikan Partai Politik

SERANG – Pakar Hukum Tata Negara dari Universitas Andalas Feri Amsari menyatakan bahwa tidak ada istilah ambang batas pencalonan presiden pada Undang-Undang Dasar (UUD) 1945. Namun, dia mengatakan, ada istilah presidential threshold dalam UUD 1945. Menurutnya, istilah presidential threshold kemudian disalahartikan oleh partai politik. “Arti presidential threshold adalah ambang batas kemenangan…

[endless-ineffabilities]

Official Business

President Aemond Targaryen x f!reporter reader

a/n: I caved in and listened to the depraved gremlins in my mind. I hope you enjoy this official intro, you're welcome.

also, thank the gods for Rue (@peachysunrize) for creating the hottest gif of all time.

themes/warnings: language, barely-there smut, infidelity, unequal power dynamic, gross misuse of a fancy desk, getting involved with a politician (also gross)

main masterlist

Update! - upcoming series

President Aemond demands the company of his favourite reporter, whom he has been eyeing for quite some time.

You try to walk with your head held high, but your clammy hands and racing heartbeat betray your nerves.

“President Aemond wishes for you to grace his suite,” was all they said. They, being two imposing bodyguards in impeccably tailored black suits, occasionally touching their earpieces as if confirming orders.

“What does he want?” you asked, your voice coming out weak and tentative. More importantly, why you?

They only shrugged, impassive. Whether they didn’t know or didn’t care, it wouldn’t matter anyway. The President always gets what he wants.

You’d only spoken to President Aemond in your capacity as a reporter, part of the small circle allowed to amplify his words to the public. The first time was at the annual Westerosi Gala, where he arrived with First Lady Floris Baratheon on his arm. Your colleagues whispered incessantly about how the uncut footage showed his gaze barely straying from you, even with his stunning aristocratic wife beside him.

Your supervisor even had the footage edited. “You don’t need the media vultures swarming you,” he reasoned, trying to sound reassuring.

Now, after covering yet another event in Highgarden, it seems you’ve been summoned for an exclusive interview in the President’s suite. You hope that’s all it is.

After all, you can’t be another victim of President Aemond’s wandering eye. Socialites like Alys Rivers and Lara Lannister had been publicly shredded after being exposed as his mistresses.

You never understood his affairs. They seemed so juvenile, reckless even for the youngest President ever elected. Barely thirty and in the highest position imaginable. And yet, what truly baffled you was why Floris stayed.

“Ma’am, the Presidential Suite,” one of the guards states as he opens a set of ornate ivory doors for you. “The President is waiting inside.”

Your feet move automatically, sparing you from blurting something that would inevitably fall on deaf ears. But as you cross the threshold, you turn and ask, “Will you be waiting to escort me back to – ”

The doors shut behind you. Of course.

The suite is grand – no expense was spared for the President. A perfect blend of classic Valyrian architecture, all white marble and gold accents. It’s more impressive than you could have imagined, having marvelled at the Highgarden Hotel from the outside for years.

“Come,” you hear a voice command, smooth and authoritative, from the room to the left of the main parlour. 

You head in that direction, mentally steeling yourself. Just get this over with.

There he is, leaning casually against a wide desk, dressed sharply in a tailored blue suit and crimson tie. The moonlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows catches the scar across his left eye, the glint of his prosthetic eye giving him an almost sinister allure. The kind that draws people in despite themselves.

Maybe it wasn’t immaturity driving his affairs. Maybe he was just too beautiful to resist. You roll your eyes at the stupid thought, surprised with yourself.

“Something amusing?” His voice is tinged with laughter.

Gods, you just rolled your eyes in front of the President.

“N-no,” you stammer, immediately flustered. “I’m sorry, Mister President. It’s just... I thought of something funny. Not about you! I mean, I’m sure you can be funny, but - ”

“Relax, angel,” he chuckles, raising a hand to stop your rambling. The term “angel” lingers in the air, branding itself into your mind.

You quickly introduce yourself, fumbling through your full government name like a nervous schoolgirl.

“We’ve met before,” he reminds you, smirking. “Am I that forgettable?”

“No, I know we have,” you nod quickly, “just not in such a… private setting.”

The corner of his mouth quirks at your choice of words, and his gaze sweeps over you with an intensity that sends heat rushing through your body. He hums softly, and the sound settles uncomfortably low in your stomach. Gods, get it together.

“I was told you wanted to see me, Mister President?”

“Aemond,” he corrects. 

You nod, offering your nickname in return, but he only smiles, shaking his head slightly. “Thank you, but I think I’ll stick with ‘angel.’”

Weird, considering how this is your first proper conversation with him, you think, but nod regardless.

He gestures to the plush chairs in front of the desk. “Sit, please.”

You comply, smoothing your dress nervously. Thankfully, it’s modest enough – a safe choice that flows just above your knees.

“How are you?” he asks, his voice polite but edged with something else. Part of you wishes he’d just get to the point, but another part – one you’d rather not acknowledge – wants to stay, to drink in the sight of him. Aemond Targaryen, the most powerful man in Westeros, and he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the world.

“I’m doing well,” you reply, your smile faltering under his heavy gaze.

He hums again, eyes dipping to your lips. That same maddening hum that sets your nerves alight.

“You must be wondering why I asked for you tonight,” he says, leaning forward slightly. “I wanted us to get better acquainted. You’ve caught my attention, angel. I find you… intriguing.”

“But you don’t know me,” you counter quickly, heart racing.

“I know more than you think,” he says, eyes narrowing playfully. “You studied at the Casterly Rock Institute for Journalism. Top of your class, until your grades dropped in your final year because you were taking care of your ailing aunt. That says more about you than any degree.”

He continues, “You’re an only child. Estranged from your parents, especially your mother, after she remarried. You’ve moved city to city since, keeping your distance. Avoiding attachments, especially romantic ones.”

You freeze, his words hitting too close to home. There’s an amused lilt to his voice at the end, and you desperately want to respond with a defensive retort, but you hold your tongue. You like your job after all. He’s the President. One call and he could have you right back in the unemployment pool.

“Am I correct?” His lips curl into a knowing smirk.

You manage a small nod. Damn him.

“How do you know all this?” you ask quietly, stunned. You wonder if there are hidden cue cards somewhere in the room, informing him of the details of your relatively uneventful life. There is no way he actually made the effort to memorise all these details about you. But then again, he is the Commander-in-Chief of the country. He must have trained himself to know everything about everyone. You’re not special – just another face in his immediate vicinity. 

“I make it my business to know people,” he replies smoothly. “Especially those who interest me.”

He reaches out to take your hand, pulling you gently to stand before him as he perches on the edge of his desk. The proximity is intoxicating. “And you, angel, have caught my eye. You’re the object of my desire. Can you say the same of me?”

His words leave you breathless, the floor slipping from under you. You’re no better than the others, drawn into his orbit. “I’d be an idiot not to find you attractive, Aemond.”

He smirks. “I adore the way you say my name.”

“There’s nothing special about the way I say it.”

“There is,” he insists, his voice low and rough as his hand moves to smooth a stray hair from your face. “You’re so fucking beautiful, angel.” His expletive takes you aback, so unbecoming of someone of his status. 

“I’m not a fool,” you shoot back, forcing yourself to remain steady. “I’ve heard about your... doings.”

“My doings?” He raises an eyebrow, amused.

“You’re married obviously,” you say bluntly. “And you’ve had affairs. Women like Alys Rivers, Lara Lannister…”

He doesn’t flinch. “I’ve had lovers, yes, but my marriage is... loveless. Floris and I, we’ve always been an arrangement for political convenience.”

“That doesn’t justify anything.”

He steps closer, his eyes darkening. “I’m trapped. I can’t leave her. It would destroy my reputation. But she has her own lovers too.”

“And so you feel entitled to have yours?”

He breathes deeply, gaze unwavering. “Not just anyone. I want you, angel. Only you.”

You feel yourself dangerously close to giving in, especially when his gaze drops to your lips and he shamelessly licks his own. Desperate to stay composed, you ask, “Am I just another lover to add to your collection? I may be a lowly journalist compared to you, Mister President, but I have a reputation to protect too.”

“I know this, angel,” he whispers, his voice softer now, yet drawing closer with every word. “I’ll protect you.”

“Did you protect Alys? Or Lara? Or the others?” you challenge, though your voice falters.

“They orchestrated their own downfall,” he says coolly, his expression unreadable. “They used me for power. That was out of my hands.”

Oh. His words momentarily rattle your resolve, but you shake your head, trying to pull yourself out of the spell he’s weaving over you. “No, this is wrong,” you murmur, the words weak on your tongue. But his warm breath fans your face, luring you into the same madness he claims to feel.

“Is this wrong?” he whispers, his lips grazing yours – featherlike, teasing, barely there. Then, as if something shifts within him, he kisses you again, harder this time, his mouth pressing hungrily against yours. His tongue traces the curve of your bottom lip, sending a rush of heat through your body as you teeter on the edge of reason.

You cave, for a few seconds, letting your lips dance with his own in a battle for dominance. You elicit a growl out of him, and he picks you up and swaps your bodies so that you are perched atop his desk. 

“Gods,” he purrs, against the heat of your neck. “Sweeter than I imagined. You’re a fucking angel.” His gaze is arresting as his hands slide from your ankles to the hem of your dress, lifting it higher and higher until your moist panties are exposed to the cool air. 

You collect yourself as if hit by a dizzying wave of whiplash, pushing him away with a sharp shove. “Stop – wait, Mister Pres – Aemond…”

He stumbles, lips swollen and slick, his good eye darkened, pupil blown wide. “Right, sorry…” His breath comes heavy as he averts his gaze, and you smooth your dress down, feeling the weight of the moment between you. He straightens, his posture stiffening as if suddenly remembering who he is. “I didn’t mean to push you, angel.”

“You didn’t –”

“It was wrong of me to –”

“Aemond,” you cut in softly, your hand slipping between you to squeeze his in reassurance. “It’s okay. I wanted it too.”

A genuine smile blooms on his lips, innocent and sweet, but it fades just as quickly at your next words. “But this can’t happen again. We can’t happen.”

"Why not?" His voice is low, measured, but there’s an edge to it. "Why can’t we? You say you wanted it too."

“We both know why,” you murmur, your voice trembling despite your best efforts. You turn to leave, but hesitate just long enough to say, “Goodbye, Mister President.”

“Angel,” he calls softly, and it’s the only word he offers.

As you step out of his suite, the door closing behind you with a quiet finality, a thought begins to take root, unsettling in its persistence – he never actually said goodbye.

And deep down, you know this isn’t over. Something stirs in your chest, an uneasy certainty - while this is the first of these kinds of encounters, it won’t be the last. 

Taglists (refer here to be added)

vhagar - @gwaynehightowerswhore @kravitzwhore @litchifaerie @g-cf2020 @noxytopy @fan-goddess @m00n5t0n3 @diannnnsss @nsr-15 @the-awkward-barbie @rockstwrsz @yellowstonebaby @urdeftonesgrrrl @eddieslut69 @callsigncrushx @starwarsdinosaur @qweq-6802 @tulips2715 @hotdismylife @joyismm @itseunaimonia @just-mj-or-not @crystal-siren @zaldrizzes @all-for-aemond @ajantanijhum @darylandbethfanforever9 @vhwyrm @purpleskiesandroses @technicallystrangereview @jjkysnk @anukulee @decaffeinatedparadisepost @iloveallmyboys @inesdiary96

Targaryen - @angel6776 @different-tale-student @binchissimo @teasweeter @raging-panda @rhaenys-nyra @gelacat0413 @simplymurdock @yariany02 @barnes70stark @stupid---person @lonan-hane @thescooponsof @donalesaa @rosey1981 @misssanzthings @urmomsgirlfriend1 @wabi-sabi1090 @girl-lost-not-found

Some notes in the margins...

Knowing me, this will inevitably turn into more than just a oneshot. Do bookmark this or my masterlist to keep updated! Or you may join the taglist using the link above ~

[evielmostdefinitely]

i need more about the wedding or the wedding press tour.

or smut on the train.

all of it. anything.

snow bride |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: based off the wedding night on the train before the press tour.

contains: smut. 18+. dom/sub dynamics implied. oral fem receiving. pinvsex.

“Wait!” Corio called, hand wrapping around your wrist, pulling you back towards him. Your champagne soaked squeals had him grinning, hand slipping around the white material of your dress. 

“Corio,” You laughed, turning in his arms. “What are you doing?” Your eyes shone, love drunk and glassy with adoration, the high of the wedding, the reception still fresh. Your family, friends, other elitist members had waved you goodbye, with tight smiles and slithering hopes of joy for the newlyweds. 

“It’s tradition, my love.” Corio smiled. Alone, he was more generous with his affection. His hands moved, bending at the knees to hoist you, one arm under your knees, the other on your back, cradling you to his chest. 

You laughed, head tipping back, dizzy off the champagne that seemed to endlessly flow, drunk off the way Coriolanus held you while you danced. He moved into the threshold of the train’s carriage, the wafting scent of roses. Tigris and your other bridesmaids had taken the liberty of decorating the honeymoon carriage. Dozens of white roses, just like the ones from the ceremony, lined the carriage’s space. Dripping wax candles in their holders for a more romantic ambiance. A bottle of champagne and a signed card of well wishes on the plush bed, where Coriolanus set you down. 

You lay there, sprawled, the frill and pearls of your dress around you, veil fanning around your head like a halo. Coriolanus grinned over you, blonde curls fallen from his coiffed hair from the night. 

“How will this do? Hm, for the next two weeks?” Coriolanus reached his hand up, now bearing his own wedding ring, complimentary to your own. “Up to the Prima Donna’s standards?” 

The nickname you despised had you rolling your eyes, shoving his shoulder lightly. “It’s wonderful.” You hummed, blinking up at him. “Much nicer than what I expected.” 

“You didn’t think I’d put you in something like the tributes used to come on, did you?” Corio grinned, stroking your cheek bone affectionately. “Your father would have a noose around my neck before we ever made it to the train station.” 

“No,” You giggled, shaking your head, your hand falling gently on top of his. Rings rubbing, metal on metal. “I just… It’s nice. Feels like home.” Your now shared home with Coriolanus, you meant. A wedding present after the engagement from your father, before you moved into the Capitol’s Presidential Mansion. Always with fresh cut roses, burning candles, and soft fabrics that relaxed Corio. Made it entirely your own. 

“We’ll be back in no time, my darling.” Corio whispered, the pad of his thumb brushing over the soft rouge of your cheeks. “It will be a nice break. Nice to see all of Panem. You can see my work throughout the Districts.” 

“I can’t wait.” You hummed, lips pressing gently into the pad of his thumb. Coriolanus’ cock lurched, a jolt of excitement even at the simple tenderness of your touch. 

You watched his eyes darken, that primal need fell over him easily, lips curling in a sinister smile. His hands slithered up your arms, circling your wrist gently before he pounced, slotting his body over yours, lips pressed to yours. You loved when Coriolanus was passionate rather than powerful. When he’d kiss you like you were his lifeline, like the very thought of his lips not on yours would have him breaking apart. When he took time to explore every inch of your mouth, swallowing your breathy, needy whines, his tongue pushing past your teeth. 

You could feel his erection even through the layers of your dress, pushing into you, hips rolling and rubbing into your own. His hands anchored your wrists down, squeezing them tightly before releasing them, tangling in your hair and veil instead. 

“Corio,” You whined, the tug of your veil still pinned into your hair. “I- Let me take it off.” 

He didn’t seem to hear, or ignored you if he did. His lips trailing up and down the side of your jaw, pushing into the nape of your neck to inhale your scent, the perfume oil you dabbed yourself with before walking down the aisle- it drove Corionalus mad the entire ceremony. His hands tugged at the veil again just to hear you whine, covering his smirk by sucking a bruise into your skin. 

“Corio, please.” Your voice lilted, breathy with desperate pleasure. “Help me take it off.” 

His lips were swollen, blossoming red and plump, his tongue running over the bottom lip. Despite the glint in his eye, he pulled back, offering you a hand. The carriage was beginning to rumble, you could hear the whistles and shouts of the crowd bidding goodbye outside over the crack of fireworks illuminating the Capitol. 

Coriolanus pulled you up gently, a hand on your hip to steady you as the train started to glide. His hands squeezing the fat of your hips through the dress, gliding down your thighs, your claves to shove the fabric back up. 

“No,” You clicked, a huff of annoyance. “You have to undo the buttons.” 

“Oh.” Corio mocked, eyes cutting to yours in warning. “My apologies, Prima Donna. How dare I not know.” 

You huffed, brows furrowing into a sulking frown. “That’s not a very nice way to treat your wife on our wedding night.” You held the bedpost, his fingers trailing up your legs, squeezing over the fat of your ass- playfully or a warning, you weren’t sure. 

“You should be nice to me, Corio.” You turn, batting your eyes at him from over your shoulder. 

He lifted a brow- amused. Fingers hooking the buttons from their fastens, calloused hands ghosting down your spine, leaving you shivering. “I think I’m very nice to you.” Coriolanus declared. 

“You’re teasing me.” You frown, lip jutting partly for show- partly because you knew how much he loved it. 

“I haven’t even begun to tease you, my love.” Coriolanus’ tone dropped to a dark, husky octave that had you shivering, nails digging into the post of the bed. 

 “Corio,” You whimpered, breath caught in your throat. “Don’t be cruel. Be nice to me tonight. It’s our wedding night. No teasing.” 

Corio hummed, loud and dramatic, like he was truly thinking it over. Maybe he was. Maybe he was contemplating being so cruel and teasing you, a punishment for you daring to step out of line- so he could regain control. Or maybe he’d do the opposite, be so doting and ravenous of you, give you the attention you were requesting so you’d become desperate for it even more. Keep you in your place that way, desperate and ruined, only for him. 

Coriolanus pulled the fabric off your shoulders, with a tenderness that made your knees weak, delicately removing the dress from you until you were left bare. Standing before him in your wedding lingerie, a garter on your thigh that bore the same initials stitched as his handkerchief. It was a tradition from the old world, something people had forgotten about or let die out with so many other traditions, but you kept. It was sweet, to you, carrying a piece of him intimately to reveal later. 

Corio’s eyes never left your thigh, sinking slowly to his knees in front of you. His initials there, stitched in metallic red thread to the white silk fabric, tied to your thigh in place. “Do you like it?” You whispered, the flecks of the golden flames from the candles reflecting in his eyes. 

Coriolanus’ gaze lifted to yours, hands cupping the back of your thigh, just above the garter. “You did this?” 

“Well, I-I didn’t make it. I, uh, I had it made but it was my idea.” You blushed, heart hammering. “My grandmother used to tell us stories that her great grandmother did this. It was an Old World tradition, but-but I thought it was… endearing.” 

Coriolanus nodded, eyes flicking to yours, a wolfish grin spreading across his lips. “Endearing…” He hummed, pad of his thumb swiping over the fabric that covered your inner thigh. “Very endearing.” 

“You like it?” You squeaked, nails raking over his scalp, pushing the curls back so you could better see his face. 

“Yes.” Coriolanus nodded. You didn’t think he’d take to the garter over the lingerie the way he did. “I think you look wonderful with my name on you.” 

You blushed, hands raking through his hair. His fingers slipped over your panties, tugging them down slowly. Coriolanus undressed you, just as slowly and tantalizing as before, leaving you entirely bare in front of him- except for your ring and the garter. 

Corio had you pinned to the wall, hands anchored in on your hips, tongue lapping furiously at your clit, running through your folds. His eyes on you, holding your gaze, sharp squeezes to your hips when you’d tilt your head back and look away for too long. 

“Corio- oh!” You whined, pulling at his scalp, pulling him further and further into your sopping cunt. His mouth suckled at your clit. He was always so good at giving head- too good, you’d told him once, at the beginning of your relationship, though he’d never tell you who his past lovers were. 

“‘M gonna- ‘m gonna cum, Corio, please. I-I’m close, I’m so close.” You writhed under his touch, hips bucking and twisting. His hands held your firm against the wall, fingertip shaped bruises blossoming on your skin, eyes on yours, nearly challenging. 

Your fingers curled, nails digging into his scalp, yanking at the curls, moans and whimpers tumbling from your mouth as your vision blurred. You hoped the train's walls were soundproof from the other cabins. Corio would normally mock you for being so loud, tease you with a slanted grin. Thankfully, his mouth was still occupied on you, even as your legs shook and slid down the wall, further onto his face.

Your chest heaved, a sheen of sweat that accompanied your flush over your body. Corio grinned, pulling away, hands still holding you in place. His chin was dripping with your release, and he didn’t dare bother to wipe it away. Instead, he kissed you. Hand gripping your jaw firmly, snaking to the back of your head. It was filthy, him making you taste your own release on his tongue. 

“I want you,” Corio growled, a heaving breath between a rather harsh kiss. “To keep that on.” He muttered, and you knew he was talking about the garter. “And just that on for the remainder of the night, do you understand?” 

You nodded, a pathetic mewl trapped behind your teeth, nose brushing his. Corio’s thumb traced your bottom lip, brushing over the kiss bitten, swollen lip before slowly pressing his thumb in. You took the digit obediently, cheeks hollowing around his calloused finger, sucking lightly. Coriolanus’ cock throbbed at the sensation, at the sight of your rounded eyes on him, sucking at his finger. 

“If you want me to keep being nice to you,” Corio’s chin lifted, looking down at you in that authoritative way that made you throb, aching from the freshness of your last orgasm. “You keep that on. Make sure it doesn’t slip.” 

Coriolanus kept his word. He was nice to you the entire night, long into the morning when you settled into District One. Your legs wrapped around his waist, clawing at his back, pressing his head into your neck to feel closer to him. He covered you with sweet kisses, lips dragging along your cheeks, your jaw, feather light kisses that had you swooning. 

You were aching, linearly limping to the podium with Coriolanus, clutching his arm up the stairs, trying to hide your wince with every step. You’d spend the day in bed after that. Coriolanus would have orders to give, meetings- boring matters you were ok to miss. He’d spend his next night as a married man in the large bath tub with you, petals in the water, your legs on either side of his thighs making the water slosh over the side. 

Every time he heard it announced- Mr. and Mrs. Snow. He would beam with joy. That politician smile, dazzling and smug, holding your arm as you walked to the podium of each district.

[afloweroutofstone]

Still too early to say much confidently in the presidential race. Legal weed and abortion rights have both failed in Florida, even though a majority voted for abortion rights (the state has a 60% threshold)

[reasonandempathy]

The weird radical/revolutionary politic larpers on this site are so allergic to political pragmatism I swear lmao. I am definitely left of the Democratic Party and I am certainly voting for Joe Biden in November. Not because I like him (I don’t). He is absolutely horrific on Gaza and that’s only the top (and priority considering there is a genocide going on there) of a list of complaints I have about him. I even voted uncommitted in my state’s presidential primary (the Pennsylvania one; I had to write it in) to protest. However, I’m still thinking pragmatically. Trump has said things that make me credibly think he will be worse on Gaza (insane that being worse on Gaza than Biden is possible but it is unfortunately), and that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Project 2025, the potential for him to appoint more deeply conservative justices, more of his aggressively screwing over poor and middle class people with his tax policies. And does anyone else remember the spike in hate crimes after the race was called for him in 2016? Before he was even inaugurated? Whether people vote or not in November we will still have to deal with one of these two men in office come January unless all of the internet ancom larpers overthrow the government by then (doubt), so I’d rather deal with the one who will be marginally less bad and who didn’t try to overthrow the government. Can’t have your revolution if nobody’s alive cause you kept pushing off politically participating because there was no perfect option. 👍

Political pragmatist anon, sorry for ranting in your askbox but I feel like I lose brain cells watching these people talk. The other day I saw someone say Biden is bad because Roe v. Wade fell under his administration… even though the reason for that was Trump appointed justices. 💀 (2/2)

Fucking insane. Sincerely.

It's a completely, flatly binary choice for anyone with a brain stem and sincerity. It's distilled into the two below images:

Where all major third party candidates are even on the ballot

How many electoral votes the largest of those (green party, a.k.a. Jill Stein) would win if they won every single state they're on the ballot for.

They are literally, legally, incapable of winning the election. They are not on enough state ballots to win and Jill Stein would need to somehow win California and Texas to even "win" all the states they're on the ballot for. Which, again, would still not be enough to win the presidency and throw it to the currently existing Republican House of Representatives. Which would put Trump in office.

It's that straightforward. That simple. That BLARINGLY obvious to literally everyone except these people.

On the one hand you have:

Significant and continuous support for Israel and it's genocide

Record levels of pardons for low-level drug offenses

the gearing up of the strongest anti-trust regime since the early 20th century

the most aggressive NLRB I've seen in my lifetime, with massive wins and institutional changes to help workers

Including getting Rail strike workers a week of sick-leave that gets paid out at the end of the year, which is better than NYC and LA sick leave laws

Millions of people (not enough) getting student debt forgiveness

Some trillion dollars (not enough)of investment in renewable resources and infrastructure

Proposed taxes on unrealized capital gains (a.k.a. how billionaires never have any money but can still buy Kentucky, Iowa, and Twitter)

Effectively an end to overdraft fees

The explicit support of leftist world leaders like Lula de Silva. Who he has explicitly worked with to expand worker rights in South America.

Has capped (some, not enough, only a tiny amount really but it's something) some drug prices, including Insulin.

Reduced disability discrimination in medical treatment

Billions in additional national pre-k funding

Ending federal use of private prisons

Pushing bills to raise Social Security tax thresholds higher to help secure the General Fund

Increasing SSI benefits

and more

vs

Said Israel should just nuke Gaza and "get it over with"

Personally takes pride in and credit for getting Roe v Wade overturned

Is arguing in court that the President should be allowed to assassinate political rivals

Muslim Ban Bullshit, insistently

Actively damages our global standing and diplomatic efforts just by getting obsessed with having a Big Button

Implemented massive tax cuts on ich people, tax hikes on middle class and poor people, and actively wants to do it again

"Only wants to be a dictator for a little bit, guys, what's the big deal"

Is loudly publicly arguing that the US shouldn't honor its military alliances after-the-fact

Tore up an effective and substantial anti-nuclear-proliferation treaty with Iran

Had a DoEd that actively just refused to process student debt forgiveness applications that have been the law of the land for decades now

Has a long record of actively curtailing and weakening the NLRB and labor movement, including allowing managers to retaliate against workers, weakened workplace accommodation requirements for disabled people, and more

Rubber stamped a number of massive mergers building larger, more powerful top companies and increasing monopolistic practices

Fucking COVID Bullshit and hundreds of thousands of unnecessary deaths

Openly supporting fascists and wannabe-bootlicks ("Very fine people" being only the beginning of it

It's really not fucking close.

[mariacallous]

The target is you, voter. Russia, China, Iran, and other bad actors sought to interfere in the run-up to today’s US elections, according to research by the Atlantic Council’s Digital Forensic Research Lab (DFRLab), which has been monitoring online trends along with statements by governments, private companies, and civil society in its Foreign Interference Attribution Tracker. As DFRLab experts detail below, this year’s malign efforts in many ways surpass previous influence campaigns in sophistication and scope, if not in impact—and they are expected to continue well after the polls close.

Tipping the scale

“By sheer volume, foreign interference in the 2024 US election has already surpassed the scale of adversarial operations in both 2016 and 2020,” Emerson says.

Dina notes that each US adversary played to its strengths. For example, Iran and China “attempted to breach presidential campaigns in hack-and-leak operations that raise concerns about their cyber capabilities during and after the elections,” she tells us.

At the same time, the United States is more prepared than it was in previous election cycles. Russian efforts in 2016 “made foreign interference a vivid fear for millions of Americans,” Emerson notes. “Eight years later, the US government is denouncing and neutralizing these efforts, sometimes in real time.”

In fact, Graham tells us, “the combined actions by the US departments of Justice, Treasury, and State against two known Russian interference efforts was the largest proactive government action taken against election influence efforts before an election.”

Doppelgangers and down-ballot races

US officials this week called Russia “the most active threat,” and it’s easy to understand why. Emerson notes Russia’s “ten-million-dollar effort to infiltrate and influence far-right American media,” alongside the “Doppelganger” network, which has spread “tens of thousands of false stories and staged videos intended to undermine election integrity in the swing states of Pennsylvania, Georgia, and Arizona.” Increasingly desperate, Russian actors have even sought to shut down individual polling places with fake bomb threats, he adds.

Meanwhile, China has focused on “down-ballot races instead of the presidential election to target specific anti-China politicians,” Kenton explains. Using fake American personas and generative artificial intelligence, China-linked operations have appeared across more than fifty platforms. Perhaps surprisingly, Kenton adds, “attributed campaigns appeared sparingly” on the Chinese-owned platform TikTok and far more often on Facebook and X.

Faith, fakes, and falsehoods 

“The primary aim is to erode Americans’ faith in democratic institutions and heighten chaos and social division,” Kenton explains, and thus to undermine the ability of the US government to function so it will have less bandwidth to contain adversarial powers.

“Some of the fake and already debunked narratives and footage circulating before the elections will likely continue to be amplified by foreign threat actors well after November 5,” Dina predicts. Expect to see activity around the submission of certificates of ascertainment on December 11, the December 17 meeting of the electors to formally cast their votes, and through inauguration day on January 20.

And in a post-election period where the results will likely be contested, Graham thinks there’s a “high likelihood” that foreign actors will “cross a serious threshold” from pre-election attempts to broadly influence American public opinion in service of their geopolitical interests to “direct interference” by trying to mobilize Americans to engage in protests or even violence.

Nevertheless, Graham points out that the high volume of foreign-influence efforts observed during this year’s election cycle so far does not appear to have had a significant impact in terms of changing Americans’ opinions or behavior.  

The consequences of foreign disinformation, Emerson adds, should be assessed against “the far more viral, sophisticated, and dangerous election-day falsehoods that Americans spread among themselves.”

[wherenymphsroam]

hiiii throwing this wip away because I’ve read it too much and don’t like it anymore hehe

cw: sliiiiiiight somno dynamics, dubcon because he touches reader in their sleep, masturbation (reader), dirty thoughts, ID Leon in mind

Dusk has long since fallen and past by the time Leon steps through the threshold of his condo. He’s soaking wet from the pouring rain outside, and he can’t help but scoff at how he left a few weeks ago amid a storm. The climate of Washington was seemingly unrelenting in its persistence to stay sodden.

He shucks his leather off, hanging it up and ignoring how rain droplets start to drip and gather into a puddle on the floor beneath — he’d deal with that in the morning. He was too busy clicking his belt loose, popping the first few buttons of his shirt as he stalks through the apartment with one destination in mind.

Stood at the bedroom door within the next few moments, he finally has half a mind to toe his shoes off. You know, the same ones that just left tracks of water through the house. Again, something ‘morning Leon’ would deal with in a few hours time. He is, however, more worried about the curled up form tucked under the covers of his bed.

“My little bed warmer,” he can’t help but chuckle to himself, his lips tugging up in the most genuine way they have in probably weeks. Stepping further into your shared bedroom, he finally rids himself of his button down, slipping out of the sleeves and folding it over a nearby desk chair on his way to the bed.

He stands there for a minute, gazing down at you adoringly. In reality, this last mission was far from one of his longer ones. It was just a few presidential appearances down in Philadelphia, then an incident in Chinese waters that had tied him up this time. A few weeks at best. But it didn’t diminish how tired he was, having to up and stride right into one mission after the last on the flip of the Presidents dime.

Sometimes, he wonders how he does this; being dragged around by the government and plopped wherever in the country. He was sure his body had probably aged at least ten years in advance internally by now. But he’d worry about that later. Because suddenly, he’s soothing a rough palm over your shoulder, sliding his hand under the hem of his t-shirt you donned.

“Taking a walk around my closet again, huh?” He coos down at your sleeping form, talking more to himself than you. He knows you can’t hear him, that you probably don’t register his fleeting touch.

You’re warm, pliant under his worn, weary hands. He barely restrains the shudder of delight that courses through him, melting and relieving him of all the undue stress the past month or so had served him. The feeling of your skin was like a stress reliever in of itself, your body his favorite piece of art to get lost in.

God, he was glad he was home.

Dancing along the soft slope of your shoulder under the material of your sleep shirt, he slides the sleeve up, eager to get a glimpse of any more of your skin. The groan that leaves him is unintentional, unable to be held back as he thumbs circles into your pliant bicep. Sharp eyes flick up to your face, looking for any signs that you’re waking up. And sure enough, you’re laid just as peacefully as you were when he walked in, your breathing steady and soft.

Maybe that’s why he finds himself coaxing the duvet down your torso, off your chest. ‘Just…. A bit more couldn’t hurt’, he tells himself. He ‘just wants to see you, that’s all’, as he slides the duvet down to pool around your hips now.

Leon’s has never considered himself a needy man. Not by a long shot. He’s not needy, and he didn’t miss you. No, he’s just cold. That’s why he’s slipping his hand now up the hem of your shirt, flattening his hand against the warmth your soft stomach provides.

He sighs, heavy and long, exhaling the weeks long amount of bullshit he had worked through yet again. Between stiff collared meetings with officials, unpredictable debacles, and rounds of combat, his nerves were shot.

Yet, your skin is warm, soft, inviting all the same.

Every time he steps back through the threshold of the apartment you share, it doesn’t matter what he saw, what he had to go out and do that go around. Because he knows that’s you’ll be here, soft and warm and eager for him, like his own personal piece of heaven. He could count on you to welcome him back into your arms, to take the weight of his weary body and heart into your hands.

“I don’t deserve you sweetheart,” he whispers, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your temple.

One press of his lips turns into two, three, four. His kisses create a line down your jaw, smattering along your skin with affection.

With each connection his lips make with your skin, he finds himself lingering longer, his lashes fluttering shut, his brows knitting as he breathes you in. Unashamedly, he presses his nose into your cheek, under the hook of your jaw and inhales greedily, the scent of your shampoo and body wash you likely had only rubbed into yourself hours earlier making his cock swell in his pants.

Muttering a curse under his breath, his breath fans hot and shaking down your neck. Glancing up at your face for a moment, he concludes you’re likely in your deepest state of REM.

Somehow, that acknowledgment only goads the quickly growing coils of shame of himself, twisting and tightening in his gut. You were fast asleep, pretty as an angel beneath him, and here he was, breathing you in like some rabid dog. He was a grown ass man, for God’s sakes. And all it takes was a month away from you knocked his sense of shame, or lack thereof, on its ass?

His hand stops dead in its tracks when his fingers begin to glide along the swell of your chest, having started to graze just the underside. It had seemed his hand had a mind of its own while he was too busy scolding himself.

“Christ”, he mutters to himself, brows pinching, his eyes dilating as your (his) shirt slides tantalizingly further up your torso. He drinks in every inch, every centimeter of skin that is exposed under the dim lighting of the room like a man starved.

Delicately, gingerly, his fingers find your nipple under your shirt, coaxing it to stiffen under slow and deliberate swipes of his thumb across it. It’s only a moment later when it starts to harden, drawing a rumble of delight from deep within his chest.

“So eager even in your sleep, huh?” He murmurs, breathless in his attempt to diffuse the tension wringing his stomach taut. It helps him feel better, if even for just a moment, knowing your body accepts him even in its most vulnerable state. Except the loosening of that band within him stiffens and stabs him in the gut a moment later, shame in himself razor sharp and blunt as it sears him.

What was he doing? You were asleep, likely exhausted from the day you may of had. This wasn’t fair of him, touching you like this when you don’t even know he’s home.

He can only grimace when his body betrays him, his tongue dips out to wet his lips — subconscious, hungry. He was starved, having gone weeks without your, your body, your touch, your smell-

Another deep breath in, and he’s noticing something else. Notes of tanged, old sweat, maybe by a few hours hanging in the air, clinging to your skin. A tackiness to your nape, your hair curled ever so slightly at the base. He finds himself pausing, eyes flickering over your skin.

The slope of your breasts under your night shirt, the way it’s slid ever so slightly off your shoulder. Upon tugging the duvet further down, off your hips, down your thighs, it’s only then that he pieces everything together. Sure, maybe you chose his shirt to sleep in because you missed him, because his cologne and musk was weaved into the cotton after use. It was an easy excuse.

However, he knows that’s not the only reason.

Inner thighs sticky, shiny with the drying evidence of your desire, your toy still nestled between your plush skin, it’s all far too incriminating. Maybe his sweet baby was a bit more desperate for him than he realized. A bit more perverted than he ever cared to give you credit for, getting off in his clothes.

Briefly, he wonders how long you were at it, how good it was. It must’ve been good, he wanted it to be. Was today specifically tiring? Was your climax that good? Or was it a mix of both that had you passing out before you could get cleaned up. That’s usually his job, cleaning you up after a long session. Not that he minds, not in the slightest.

But… he’s here now, right? Sure, you’re asleep now… and maybe he didn’t get the pleasure of watching the show… but it’s still his job. It’s the least he can do after being away for so long.

Right?

[holopiscom]

Presiden Prabowo Lebih Fokus Urus Rakyat Ketimbang Putusan Presindetial Threshold

JAKARTA – Partai Gerindra mengaku terkejut dengan putusan Mahkamah Konstitusi yang menghapus ambang batas pencalonan presiden atau presidential threshold (PT) sebesar 20%. Sekjen Partai Gerindra, Ahmad Muzani mengatakan, putusan ini menjadi kejutan di awal tahun 2025 setelah sebelumnya gugatan serupa pernah diajukan. “Baru pada kali ini Mahkamah Konstitusi, lembaga yang dulu oleh puluhan kali…

[riaunews]

Dihapusnya Presidential Threshold oleh MK Tak Lepas dari Sosok 4 Mahasiswa UIN Sunan Kalijaga Ini

Empat mahasiswa UIN Sunan Kalijaga Yogyakarta yang menjadi pemohon dalams sidang gugatan presidential threshold, yaitu Enika Maya Oktavia, Rizki Maulana Syafei, Faisal Nasirul Hag, dan Tsalis Khoirul Fatna. (Foto: Kompas) Yogyakarta (Riaunews.com) – Empat mahasiswa Universitas Islam Negeri Sunan Kalijaga (UIN Suka) Yogyakarta memastikan gugatan syarat ambang batas pencalonan presiden atau…

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Lauren Gambino at The Guardian:

With the full support of the California delegation, Kamala Harris has earned enough delegates to become the Democratic party nominee. Speaker emerita Nancy Pelosi made the motion to endorse Harris for president at a virtual meeting of California’s DNC delegation on Monday evening, a spokesperson confirmed. Pelosi, who represents San Francisco in Congress, announced that with the endorsement of California’s delegation, Harris – a native Californian – had earned enough delegates to win the Democratic nomination for president. Earlier on Monday, top Democrats rallied to support Harris in their bid to defeat Republican Donald Trump. Harris was headed to the battleground state of Wisconsin on Tuesday as her campaign for the White House kicks into high gear. The event in Milwaukee will be her first full-fledged campaign event since announcing her candidacy. Joe Biden’s departure freed his delegates to vote for whomever they choose at next month’s convention. And Harris, whom Biden backed after ending his candidacy, was working to quickly secure support from a majority.

[...] According to an Associated Press tally, Harris had 2,214 delegates, well beyond the simple majority needed to clinch the nomination on the first ballot. The survey is unofficial, the AP said, as Democratic delegates are free to vote for the candidate of their choice when the party formally chooses its candidate. [...] Democratic National Committee chairman Jaime Harrison vowed that the party would deliver a presidential nominee by 7 August. A virtual nominating process before the national convention in Chicago, beginning on 19 August, is still needed. [...] The DNC had said earlier that a virtual vote would take place between 1 August and 5 August, in order to have the nomination process completed by 7 August, the date by which Ohio law had required a nominee to be in place to make the state’s ballot.

In just over a day since taking the reins of succeeding Joe Biden on the 2024 Democratic Presidential ticket, Vice President Kamala Harris has accumulated enough delegates to become the apparent Democratic nominee.

The nomination of Harris must still be formalized in a roll call vote to make it official. #Harris2024 #Harris47 #YesWeKam #Momala #MadamePresident

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

Kategate is nuts. It has a whiff of decadence, too. I can’t be the only person wondering what it says about our country that so many people have oodles of time to scrutinise a pic like jumped-up Columbos. Do people work? ‘This photo raises even more questions about Kate’s health and whereabouts!’, The kate truthers cry. No it doesn’t. Your obsession with it raises questions about your sanity, though..

Leave Kate Middleton alone

12 March 2024, 12:25p Brendan O’Neill

Well done everyone for ruining Mother’s Day for the Princess of Wales. I hope you’re proud of yourselves. A young-ish mum posts a lovely photo of herself surrounded by her beaming kids and instead of saying ‘Ahh’ you pore over it like lunatic sleuths for signs of villainous photoshopping. End result: mum issues an apology. For doing something sweet. On Mother’s Day. You all need to get off the internet.

The obsession with that pic of Catherine and her three children has become unhinged. It’s still on the front pages of the papers. ‘PICTURE OF CHAOS’, screams the Mirror. Oh behave. There’s war in Europe and the Middle East, an energy crisis, a lame-duck government waddling to defeat and people waiting five days in A&E to see a nurse, and you’re still yapping about a princess slightly misaligning her daughter’s sleeve while editing a family photo? 

Kategate is nuts. It has a whiff of decadence, too. I can’t be the only person wondering what it says about our country that so many people have oodles of time to scrutinise a pic like jumped-up Columbos. Do people work? ‘This photo raises even more questions about Kate’s health and whereabouts!’, the Kate truthers cry. No it doesn’t. Your obsession with it raises questions about your sanity, though.

Hypocrisy is at play. I bet you every one of the hacks writing breathless reports about Kate’s scandalous doctoring of a photo have on occasion filtered themselves into oblivion for profile pics on social media. Everyone does. Colour added to pallid faces, crow’s feet trimmed, blemishes erased. I thought we all knew that pretty much every photo we see online – whether of celebrity or civilian – has been touched up in some way?

The way people are banging on about the princess’s photoshopping – which caused tiny...

Joe Biden is the presumptive presidential nominee for the Democratic Party after his victory overnight in the Georgia primary pushed him passed the threshold of 1,968 delegates.

Donald Trump also passed the threshold of 1,215 delegates.

[juh-wasnt-deactivated19691231]

tumblr note: this is a living document. tap the original post header to see if it's been updated since this reblog.

This post will also be available at https://juh.gay/essays/solvethink.md.

solvethink

Let's look at a silly problem I face in my daily life as an example. There's a great cheesesteak place near my work, but they're only open 10am to 4pm. I would eat there every time I drove past if I could. Can I get an American wit onion today? We'll look at this problem, and a few others, with the tools I use to solve problems every day.

Partition the problem (dichotomies)

Here on tumblr we usually hear about dichotomies in the context of "nice dichotomy idiot! what lies outside it?". Dichotomies are a useful tool, dangerous in the hands of idiots, just like any other useful tool. Since "di" means "two", I'm going to use "partition" from now on, because there are often more than two options.

When faced with multiple potential scenarios, try splitting the problem in a way that captures all the possible choices or outcomes, but groups them to be easier to think about. We must construct our partition thoughtfully:

If anything lies outside the options you've listed, you risk being unprepared for edge cases. Sometimes that's okay, sometimes it's not. You'll have to decide that based on the problem.

If you have too many options to think about, partitioning this problem might not be the best approach (or you're in a real pickle).

If your partition doesn't help you reason about the outcomes, try a different way of splitting things. Think about the possible outcomes and what circumstances create them.

The only problem I have with Calozzi's is the hours, because I'm non-24 and work at weird times and sometimes can't get out of bed for a couple of days. Suppose I leave for work. Will they be open?

If I get there too early or too late, they'll be closed.

If I get there during business hours, they'll be open.

This is correct, and we can do a little with it, but we could make it more useful by dividing the clock further:

If I arrive too early, they'll be closed, but I can go in a little bit. I might as well do some work first.

If I arrive early in their business hours, they'll be open. I can go now if I'm hungry, or I can work first and then head over in a couple of hours.

If I arrive late in their business hours, they'll be closed soon. I should go now.

If I arrive too late, they'll be closed. No philly. :(

Compare outcomes

This one is fun. Build a table of the options you have, and list their outcomes. Next, eliminate the outcomes they have in common. What's left is the real effect of each option. Anything they have in common isn't really a part of the choice, it's going to happen anyway. Those common outcomes are important too! This tool sheds light on what is in your control, and what is not.

Let's set aside the cheesesteaks for a minute and look at a really frustrating recent example: the 2024 US presidential election. People (and bots) pushed this idea that the candidates were the same, the parties were the same. People took the stance that they would be "single-issue voters" about the war on Gaza. That was about the dumbest possible thing to do. Let's look at the train of thought:

I'm only going to vote based on who will end a genocide.

I don't believe either candidate will end the genocide.

Therefore, I'm not going to vote.

Do you see the obvious fucking problem here?? Suppose that 2 is accurate. "Not ending the genocide" would appear in both columns when we compare the outcomes. We cross it out. Make a decision on what's left! Why would you make a choice based on an issue where you have no choice? This is an absolutely essential critical thinking skill that far too many people are without, and I am mad about it. I'm happy that you're learning about it, but I'm still mad that other people have put me and my family in danger because they couldn't reason about decision making. Sorry. Rant over.

Determine thresholds and cutoffs

Sometimes a problem takes the form of "we don't have enough support for this" or "how long can we keep doing this". Ask the question: How much is enough? Where do we draw the line? What's the cutoff?

Going back to the happy sandwich example, let's enhance our partition a bit by clearly defining the lines between the options. Factoring in travel time from work to the restaurant, and considering I don't want to get there right before closing:

If I get to work before 0940, they won't be open yet.

If I get to work between 0940 and 1200, that's early in their business hours.

If I get to work between 1200 and 1515, that's late in their business hours.

If I get to work after 1515, it's too late.

Reexamine relationships

Sometimes things are not exactly as they seem, or how they're first presented to you. Maybe the steps in this process don't actually have to go in that order. Maybe one of them isn't even necessary. Maybe this cause-effect system isn't actually cause and effect. Question why the problem is constructed the way that it is, and see if maybe it can be turned into an easier problem.

Tangential to cheesesteaks, let's talk about how I commute in general.

I used to go Home -> South Work -> Calozzi's -> North Work -> Home. But these don't have to go in that order. What are the real constraints?

Start at home

End at home

Visit both work sites during the trip

Get a cheesesteak if possible

I get tired easily while driving, so I need to avoid doing too much of it at once

I get more tired as the day wears on

They're all on basically the same road. Driving to North Work takes me right past Calozzi's and South Work, as does driving back

To optimize this route, we have to know, what are we optimizing for?

Time: Traveling back and forth along the full length of the route can't really be sped up. We can avoid making it worse than the naive route by just, not driving back and forth over and over again.

Gas money: Same deal, naive route is about as good as we can do.

Fatigue: Bingo. I get more tired as the day drags on, and we have multiple legs of different lengths that pose different fatigue hazards.

Now that we have something to optimize:

Let's start with the long leg of the commute, Home to North Work, when I'm freshest and least likely to fall asleep at the wheel. This will take me about an hour and change on the road.

Then we go from North Work to South Work, about half an hour on the road. I can do my work and take a nap in the parking lot before I leave if need be.

Then we head home, about 40 minutes.

So where does the steak come in? Whenever it can, basically. If they're open on the way up, I'll stop in; if not, but they're open on the way back, then I'll stop in; otherwise, no sando.

Decide what the problem is

If you're chasing a problem but can't seem to formalize the possible outcomes or choices available to you, double check that you actually know what the problem is. You can't solve a problem that you don't recognize. If you feel like you're swimming through a thick fog of thoughts and getting nowhere, start here.

This was essential to dealing with my anxiety about flights. I knew I felt sick to my stomach before flights even if I hadn't eaten anything spooky lately, and I knew I was anxious, but I didn't know why, or how to fix it. I sat down and thought about it one day. Let's partition the experience:

Packing for the flight

Getting to the airport

Getting through the airport (security and to the gate)

The plane ride itself

Getting through the other airport

Getting to my final destination

I realized that after I'm through security, I feel waaay better. My stomach is still unhappy, but the anxiety is gone. That narrows down the problem!

Packing for the flight: Am I anxious about packing wrong? Yes. Clarify: I'm worried that I'll forget to pack something.

Getting to the airport: Am I anxious about getting there? Yes. Clarify: I'm worried that I'll get stuck in traffic and end up late.

Getting through security: Am I anxious about getting through security? Yes. Clarify: I'm worried that something in my backpack will be confiscated.

We've identified the problems! From there, it was fairly easy to find solutions. Security and packing are basically the same concern: what if I arrive without something I need? Let's partition my belongings:

Things I can replace cheaply: clothes, chargers, toothbrush, razor, anything owned by work

Things I could replace but they're expensive: personal electronics

Things I cannot replace: data (which is on personal electronics) (backups are important and i am failing)

Okay, let's look at the things I cannot replace. Laptop and phone will not be confiscated during normal operations, so my data is as safe as I can hope for. I'm generally not carrying anything that is both personal and expensive, other than those we just mentioned. Everything else can be replaced cheaply, which means that if I forget it, I can run to a store and get another one, and it's no big deal. This problem is solved!

Getting to the airport is the other issue. The concern is that I'll get stuck in traffic and miss my flight. This is a probabilistic outcome, one that I cannot fully prevent or guarantee. What can we do to minimize the chance or impact of getting stuck in traffic?

Leave early. More buffer time means more time that can be eaten by traffic. Cost is waiting around in car-and-airport for more time, not a big deal.

Understand the traffic patterns and book flights accordingly. At my airport, rush hour traffic is bad, midday is fine, midnight is great. If I can avoid arriving at the airport in the morning or the afternoon, the chances of encountering traffic are greatly reduced.

And there we go! My anxiety about flying is gone (unless I'm running late), and my stomach is somewhat better. I've also taken to fasting for a day before flights though, just to be safe.

Written lists

When tackling a problem with a lot of steps, or a lot of outcomes to sift through, or too many partitions to keep track of, it often helps me to write them down somewhere. I keep two whiteboards and a legal pad in my backpack at all times just in case, and I have notes on my phone at the ready. This isn't necessary for most problems I deal with, but it can help if there's a lot going on or my brain isn't working. Writing things down enables your brain to quit storing them in L1 cache. I'm fond of saying: I don't write things down so I can remember, I write things down so I can forget. (Coincidentally, it helps with the remembering too.)

Spreadsheets are another super valuable tool. I love spreadsheets. They're 2D lists, you can copy-paste, you can do math real easy, you can lay things out however you want, you can even filter tables and write pseudo-sql queries if you need to. You can get a new google sheet by visiting sheets.new any time.

Draw patterns from examples

If you're working with a lot of variables, or a fairly underspecified problem, try coming up with some example cases and see how they pan out. Try changing one thing about each case and see how it affects the outcome. Are there patterns in how things turn out? Can you infer anything useful about how the problem works with this information? Can you work the problem backward to see how each choice impacts the outcomes?

Define upper and lower bounds

Sometimes it's helpful to find the upper and lower bounds on some variable in a problem. Looking for best- and worst-case outcomes is an example of this: we can't say that the final outcome will be smack in the middle (argument to moderation fallacy), but we know it will be somewhere between those two, inclusive. In the cheesesteak example, we can define bounds on when I can arrive at work and get a sandwich right away: no earlier than 0940, and no later than 1515. From here, given 40 minutes of driving, we can deduce that I should leave home between 0900 and 1435 if I'm hungry, although I could head in before 0900 and get more work done first.

Evaluate feasibility

Ask if it can even be done. Can you prove that it's possible? Can you prove that it's impossible? How do you find out? If you can write the entire problem off as impossible, that saves a lot of work.

Build realistic plans

"He who knows himself and his enemy is gonna be fine" -- Shadow the Hedgehog or whatever

When we plan motion for robot motors, we generally don't drive the motor at full output, because we can't model the way it moves that well: it's affected by fluctuating voltages, motor temperature and thermal expansion, friction, and a host of other variables that are hard enough to model that we usually just don't. Instead, we pick a speed just a little below what we know it can do at full cook, and we ask it to do that. This way, we know we're going to get what we asked for, every time, and we can use that to do a bunch of math and make things work way smoother.

When you're building plans, don't assume that things will go perfectly---assume that they won't. Accept that you might have a slow morning and you might miss the first bus, and maybe the second one too. Remember that you and your friends get distracted easily and aren't going to finish this task in the optimal time frame. Plan to cut twice on occasion, it happens. We are not perfect! And that's okay! If you plan for imperfection, you can execute that plan perfectly.

You must know your enemy, too: there will be obstacles that are not your fault, beyond your control. Are there likely or predictable issues? Are there possible but unpredictable issues? What can you do about them?

Build buffers into timelines and resource requirements. If you can, estimate how big those buffers need to be based on where and how you think slips are likely to happen. Also consider the cost of running out of something: Does it cost you money? Time? How much? What questions and paperwork will be involved? Is the potential cost of a slip worth the cost of building in more buffer?

Conclusion

Some of these will sound like common sense, some will sound novel and difficult, and some might sound like your mother telling you it's not that hard. Try applying these to problems in your everyday life, and with practice they can become second nature. I always get a kick out of reducing a problem from broad and vague to a small set of options with outcomes that are easy to choose between. Feel free to reblog with problem solving tools that you use!