#public relations in the church

[ectonurites]

oh holy shit

[theabigailthorn]

important to state for the record that the British Supreme Court are idiots

they sound very scary when you describe them as The Supreme Court but remember, these are five dusty old cishets, one of whom is a weirdo who used to write homophobic documents for the Church of Scotland. I've seen so much commentary, even from pro-trans british journalists, about how the ruling is "forensic" and "balanced" and "rational" - no it isn't, it's clearly the work of people who don't know what they're talking about. You know how I know? They accidentally defined all bi women as lesbians. They said that the legal test for a lesbian is being an AFAB person attracted to another AFAB person, and at no point did anyone go, "Hang on a second, what about bi people?" Congratulations to terfs I guess, you were so excited to get rid of the T you got rid of the B!

This ruling is exactly what you'd expect from locking five old straight people in a room and asking them to set rules for queer life without speaking to any queer people. Their judgement is silly legal word games and it has no relation to real people's actual lives - if you wanna use lawyerspeak they've "undermined public confidence in the legal system." It's not even "the emperor has no clothes," it's "the emperor is naked and covered in shit."

i can kinda understand that politicians need to make a show of respect in their tone, like okay, probably a good thing that politicians don't get into the habit of publicly undermining judges. But any journalist who treats this ruling as remotely sensible is daft - only a straight person could make that kind of mistake

These judges are idiots - I use the word in the classical greek sense of someone who is not connected to and does not understand the life of the public, of the people. Their judgement is laughable and we don't have to respect them

[moregraceful]

everyone who said safety pins and hem tape -- real as hell

married people of the dash, i habe a quastion. was there anything during your ceremony/reception/etc that you were like i NEED [x object] right now or it's so over?

i am packing a little bag of stuff for the bride and groom that they might need. i realize this is usually this is someone's mom or aunt's problem but unfortunately those people r dead, estranged, or useless so 😎 i'm doing it 😎 hlep.

[the-cimmerians]

Today, ProPublica reports on yet another big change that stands to solve a decades-long problem we first learned about back in 2016, closing a huge loophole that allowed states to divert federal antipoverty funds to governors’ pet projects, like promoting abstinence, holding “heathy marriage” classes that did nothing to prevent out-of-wedlock births, funding anti-abortion “clinics” to lie about abortion “risks,” sending middle-class kids to private colleges, and other schemes only tangentially related to helping poor kids. It’s the same loophole that Mississippi officials tried to drive a truck through to divert welfare funds to former sportsball man Brett Favre’s alma mater, for a volleyball palace. [ ]

The agency has proposed new rules — open for public comment until December 1 — aimed at nudging states to actually use TANF funds to give cash to needy parents, not fill budget holes or punish poor people.

One change will put an end to the scheme Utah used to substitute LDS church funds for welfare, by prohibiting states

from counting charitable giving by private organizations, such as churches and food banks, as “state” spending on welfare, a practice that has allowed legislatures to budget less for programs for low-income families while still claiming to meet federal minimums.

Another new rule will put the kibosh on using TANF to fund child protective services or foster care programs, which are not what TANF is supposed to be for, damn it.

And then there’s the simple matter of making sure that funds for needy families go to needy families, not to pet projects that have little to do with poverty:

The reforms would also redefine the term “needy” to refer only to families with incomes at or below 200% of the federal poverty line. Currently, some states spend TANF money on programs like college scholarships — or volleyball stadiums — that benefit more affluent people.

[16wolke11]

Pierre doesn't know - Charles Leclerc

A/N This is just a shot filled with moments, all of them are smut related, but not as detailled as usually. Not sure if I like the outcome or not. 

Requests are open!

WORDS: 1375

WARNINGS: NSFW (Quickies/blowjob/doggy/semi-public sex/unprotected sex)

Inspiration: Scotty doesn't know - Lustra

_____

Pierre doesn't know that Charles and I do it in his driver's room before every race. Hooking up to ease the tension before the race, knowing that Ferrari will give him a headache during it anyway. I don't even remember how it started, but it became a routine, and we got better at sneaking around. In the beginning, we almost got caught once, but since then, we stepped up our game. Beginning with Charles' subtle asking for soundproofing his room, so that he can, quote "Relax and be in his best state in that noisy environment". After that, we didn't care anymore and could be as loud as we wanted.

Another Sunday and again I managed to slip into Charles ' driver's room again. He is seated on his physio bench, eyes closed like he is taking a nap, but his eyes immediately open when he hears the door closing behind me.

"How long do we have?" I ask him, already shuffling out of my panties and bunching up my dress while Charles comes onto his feet. He is already dressed in his racing suit, it being tied around his hips, but he shoves it down enough to free his length.

"Something between five and ten minutes?" Charles tells me and pats his hand on the physio bench for me to hop on it. "Told them they should knock and give me a two-minute warning." He takes out the lube from his backpack to save time, squirts some of it on his fingers, before shoving them between my thighs. I don't hold back the moan, stopped doing it after we tested how loud we could be inside here without being heard by blasting loud music.

Not one minute later, Charles is pounding into me, my legs wrapped around his hips, drawing him deeper while we chase the lust. Not focused on building it as high as possible, but just releasing as much of it before the race as we can.

I always tell Pierre that I am in church, either visiting one at the local track or joining one that is broadcast on television. Being a religious girl always gets him to believe me. Having the image of me praying on my knees in his mind, but contrary to his beliefs, I am not in church. Still on my knees, but Pierre doesn't know that.

When we have more time before a race we take our time, tickle more than one orgasm out of each other, Charles usually making me suck him off. And depending on how much Ferrari fucked up during qualifying he just uses my mouth for his please.

"I want to see those pretty lips wrapped around me." Charles whispers, thumb dragging over my lower lip, letting me wrap my lips around it, just for a second, before pulling it back with a pop. Seated between Charles' knees, I lean down to take him into my mouth, ready to make him forget his struggles of the season.

By now, I no longer have to figure out what Charles likes, simply following what I learned over the months. Either swirling my tongue around the tip of his length or shoving his shaft down my throat. Charles' fingers always tangled in my hair, sometimes just guiding me along, but other times using it to move me to his liking until he comes into my mouth.

Pierre trusts Charles with me, even though his best friend is right behind me, thrusting into me. We even meet up when there isn't a race weekend, by now. Liking to fuck with each other, no hard feelings, just chasing orgasms and lust. Right now, I am being bent over the kitchen counter and Charles thrusts into me from behind. When my phone rings, I flinch, but Charles just keeps going. Pierre's name is written on the display and just when I want to grab it and mute my phone, Charles presses the green button and holds my phone to my ear.

I talk with Pierre, trying not to moan in that three-way call Pierre isn't aware of. Charles slowing down in the beginning of the call, making it easier for me to act like nothing is happening, but when my voice gets too relaxed Charles either picks up the rhythm, almost making me hiss with my hips being slammed against the counter or he shoves his fingers between my thighs to roll my clit between his fingertips. This almost made me scream out his name, but I managed to bite down hard on my lip to stop it, drawing a bit of blood, but luckily, Pierre ended the call soon after.

We grew bolder over time, no longer restriction us to his driver's room, the hotel or the apartment of one of his.

In the parking lot, why not?

"What if someone sees us?" I whisper to Charles while we make out in the backseat of his car. It might be dark outside, but the fogged-up windows would still give away what we are doing inside. And I am sure the journalist would love the spice of writing about Charles having sex in his car.

He whispers some soft reassuring while undressing me and I let him. Naked on the backseat, eyes looking at Charles, who is seated with his head between my thighs. Licking and nibbling the doubts out of my mind, making me gasp and moan with every moment of his tongue.

"Car sex looks so much easier in the movies." Charles groans, trying to find a position to properly bury himself between my thighs. Knocking his head on the ceiling in the process, making me laugh, before we find a position that works.

Even after a shitty race he just calls me over. Knowing he has places to be, but he can't face the media with the mixture of exhaustion and anger at the team. So, we sneak around, knowing we barely have the time for it, but still fucking. Usually, I ride him, knowing his body is too exhausted from the race, but I enjoy being on top of him.

"I could watch you ride me all day." Charles sighs, fingers digging into my hips, letting me roll them into his with slow movements. I hold onto his chest, his skin hot from the race and while I know this has to be quick, I just like to drag this moment as long as possible. Feel him twitch inside of me before I clench around him and get filled with his cum.

During one of the winter vacations, we even did it outside in the snow. Telling everybody we want to go for one last round down the hill, but instead, Charles buried himself deep inside of me.

"Charles, it is cold outside." I try to stop him, but his fingers already managed to sneak under the endless layers of clothes, sending a shiver down my spine where his cold skin touches mine.

"Adds to the thrill and we can't exactly do it inside." Charles mumbles, and he is right, in the house, it would grow suspicious, and it isn't exactly soundproof. Then he shoves his fingers between my thighs and all my protests crumble down. We used some of the snow as an extra thrill and it might have inspired us to use ice cubes in the bedroom one or two times afterwards.

At one point, we got so desperate for each other that we didn't care about our timing anymore. For Pierre's birthday, we were supposed to pick something up, but it got delayed and so we decided it wouldn't hurt anyone if we were even more late.

"We are already late...do you want to be later?" Charles suggests and without thinking much about it I pull him into a kiss. Teeth almost clashing, but Charles looks too good to resist. Shirt slightly unbuttoned for the party, even though this look isn't warm enough. Looks like I need to heat him up. We fuck in one of the bathrooms, knowing it is risky, but it is what we need.

What we are doing is so bad, but Pierre doesn't know and even though he might, no word will slip over my lips. 

[lichtluxx]

There is no doubt that Lucifer is a multifaceted entity. He has many origins: his biblical origin, his Roman origin, his Greek origin. I wrote a post about his biblical origin here, if you are interested in learning more.

And today we will dive into his other versions :3

Long post btw, read it when you have time!

Lucifer in Greek mythology had different names: Phosphorus, Eosphorus and Hesperus, and he was a minor deity associated with light and dawn. His many faces came into existence because the Greeks, in ancient times, believed that Phosphorus (his name means: the bringer of light) brought the light of dawn and Hesperus (the bringer of night) would slowly extinguish the light of the sun in the sky until darkness (night) took over.

The morning star is the last 'star' to disappear once morning appears. The first 'star' to appear once night falls is called the evening 'star'. Thus, Phosphorus and Hesperus.

In short, in Greek mythology he has three faces: Phosphorus (Lucifer), Eosphorus and Hesperus. Phosphorus is the one who brings light, Eosphorus is the morning star and Hesperus is the evening star. However, these three faces are not separate, they are part of the same god. The star that represents him is Venus, which is the largest of the four and the closest to the earth. He is also related to the sea and lunar fire. And he brings both light and darkness.

He is mentioned as the son of Astraeus and Eos, and in other versions, he is the son of Cephalus and Eos, or even of Atlas.

Later, the Greeks realized that Venus was the same star, and began to identify it with the goddess of love, Aphrodite — a divinity that was equivalent to the one that represented it for the Babylonians, Ishtar.

His name was the equivalent of Lucifer for the Romans who, then, with the advent of Christianity, the Fathers of the Church (more precisely, Saint Jerome) identified him with Satan, the "angel of light" who, through vanity and pride, fell from heaven after declaring himself superior to God.

Eosphorus is considered the father of Ceyx by Khione and Deucalion. Other sources cite him as the father of Hespera, who together with Atlas became the mother of the Hesperides.

In ancient Greek vase painting, Eosphorus / Hesperus was depicted as a young man, either in the form of a bust surrounded by the shining orb of his star, or as a winged god holding a torch and crowned with a shining halo - an image that follows Lucifer to his Roman counterpart, as he has a very cute painting just like this.

Furthermore, there are two prayers to Hesperus - although they are from plays, they may suggest the sort used in real life:

"Stars (asteres), bow to my prayer, and become sightless; Moon (mênê), suffer your light to sink swiftly and depart!’ So she [Hero] spoke, for to see Laandros (Leander) was all her heart's desire. Then did he too make supplication : ‘Back, Hesperos, to hiding!’ - thus prayed, Laandros -. ‘Ride backward, all the stars, that night and heaven and sun and earth may grow dark!’

And

"Now, O Phoebus [Helios the Sun], speed thy chariot with no check of rein; let friendly darkness veil the light and let Hesperus, vanguard of the night, plunge deep this fearful day."

Ovid tells the tale of Lucifer as an "overseer" of the sky who tells the stars in which order to leave and then goes away last to make room for the sun.

Digging a bit further, Theoi says Lucifer is the Roman name of the Greek Hesperus, and provides information on a specific cult dedicated to him as detailed by Strabo in Geography: The Westerners [of the two lands called Lokris] are called Lokrians and Ozolai; and they have the star Hesperos engraved on their public seal. He was worshipped for navigation and travel.

Though, him as a Greek entity didn't had a temple. Ovid seems to allude to the existence of at least two shrines to Eos, his mother; although the only evidence for an early cult of Eos is a reference to libations she received in Athens. Whether Eos actually had any shrines and altars in ancient Greece, we are not aware of them. But he is despicted as a torch bearing child who is always accompanying her.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

Now, in his Roman mythology, he is the son of the Roman Goddess Aurora, considered a minor god and a deity associated with the planet Venus, that was often associated with a deity or personification of the dawn.

The 2nd-century Roman mythographer Hyginus said of the planet:

The fourth star is that of Venus, Luciferus by name. Some say it is Juno's. In many tales it is recorded that it is called Hesperus, too. It seems to be the largest of all stars. Some have said it represents the son of Aurora and Cephalus, who surpassed many in beauty, so that he even vied with Venus, and, as Eratosthenes says, for this reason it is called the star of Venus. It is visible both at dawn and sunset, and so properly has been called both Luciferus and Hesperus.

The Latin poet Ovid, in his 1st-century epic Metamorphoses, describes Lucifer as ordering the heavens:

Aurora, watchful in the reddening dawn, threw wide her crimson doors and rose-filled halls; the Stellae took flight, in marshaled order set by Lucifer who left his station last.

In the classical Roman period, Lucifer was not typically regarded as a deity and had few, if any, myths, though the planet was associated with various deities and often poetically personified.

Cicero stated that "You say that Sol and Luna are deities, and the Greeks identify the former with Apollo and the latter with Diana. But if Luna is a goddess, then Lucifer (the Morning-Star) also and the rest of the Wandering Stars (Stellae Errantes) will have to be counted gods; and if so, then the Fixed Stars (Stellae Inerrantes) as well."

There is no Scriptural source which defines Lucifer as Satan. In fact, the word Lucifer was an addition to the Scriptures in place of the Hebrew word, Heylel, which was the literal name of Venus; and, Shahar, which just means “Star of the Morning” or sometimes translated, "Son of the Morning’.

The word was in reference to Babylonian Kings and titles they used to claim their divine right to rule. Artifacts such as the Cyrus Cylinder, confirm such assertions were made by kings of the ancient world

So when they say "Oh, how have you fallen, O Morning star," The prophet is saying this king rose to power under the guidance and blessing of the Hebrew divine God yet he haughtily believes he has risen in power by his own brilliance and might and is therefore condemned by God to be “thrown down” and made humble. The writer never intended it to mean any fallen angel of any kind. It was simply a metaphor of the pride before a crash that was destined to happen to this earthly king.

The Latin word (Lucifer) was added to the Hebrew Text by Jerome in the 4th Century and was in fact the first to ever present the belief that Lucifer was the serpent in the Garden with Adam and Eve. In addition, the reasons for Jeromes misguided and inaccurate translation of Heylel may be found in his religious politics within the church itself.

One of Jeromes main adversaries (satan it's a title and it means adversary) was the Bishop of Cagliari, who was also named Lucifer Calaritanus, who founded the Luciferians (you got context about this guy in the first part, go read it if you haven't already ☺️).

Hoping that the allusion itself was strong enough to condemn the Bishop of Cagliari and his followers as heretics, Jerome hoped to have their ideas and movement abolished. In the 7th Century, Augustine focused on the Vulgate mistranslation and added more to the idea of an angel named Lucifer who rebelled against God because of pride and took down 1/3 of the angels.

In summary, the name "Lucifer" evolved from a Roman term denoting light to a figure associated with pride and rebellion against God, ultimately becoming a name for Satan in Christian theology.

⠀⠀⠀⠀

Moving closer to the Stregheria (italian witchcraft, in case you don't know this term) now, Dianus Luciferus was an ancient god of the Italian Witches. Brother, son and consort of the Goddess Diana, he is the Bringer of Light and Lord of Splendor, as well as being the Lord of the Morning and Evening Star for the Romans. He was later associated with the Christian devil.

Dianus Luciferus is also known as Dis in his aspect as God of Death and the Afterlife and as Lupercusem in his aspect as the Child of Promise, bearer of hope and Light.

The connection with light and stars also came from the association with Venus, especially because of its proximity to the Sun. Furthermore, the name Dianus is directly linked to his mother and consort, the Goddess Diana.

His name comes from the Latin Luxferres, Bearer of Light, which ended up being transformed into Lucifer. Despite this, he can also be known as the Morning Star, Son of the Dawn, The Shining One or The Bringer of Light.

Dianus Luciferus is endowed with three aspects:

The Horned One: Lord of the Wild Forests and God of Fertility, Sexuality, Life and Death. Associated with the Fauns, but Fauns are goat-men while Dianus is a Stag God.

The Hooded One: Lord of the Fields and Plantations; King of the Harvest and Lord of Flora; Rex Nemorensis; similar to the Greenman of the Celts.

The Elder: Lord of Wisdom and Guardian of the Sanctuaries.

The Stregas say that Dianus was created when Goddess Diana separated herself in two, Darkness and Light, Feminine and Masculine. Diana (as Great Mother) created her own son, husband and consort, and is considered a Creator Goddess, the dark sacred goddess.

At first, the goddess tried to make her new creation show some sexual desire, but the plan was frustrated. So, she ended up embarking on a plan of betrayal through magic, stealing his semen. It is said that she bewitched him and copulated with Dianus while he slept, and from this union, Aradia was born, their daughter, and she is seen as a protector of the oppressed and a bearer of ancient wisdom, being sent to Earth by her mother to teach humans about magic.

Like Lucifer, Aradia represents equality, liberation and independence.

⠀⠀

Overall, Lucifer embodies enlightenment, knowledge, rebellion, justice, light and darkness, and much more. As I said, he is a very complex, very multifaceted deity, with a large history that I could keep going on and on without stopping. This post was made in his honor. I hope it helps those who want to know a little more about him too ♡♡♡

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to The Light's Chapter 422

Brief summary: Cale meets the two users and drags them into his scam. Cale makes a show as Alberu wakes up.

==========

We got a flashback again to after Cale watched the videos.

Cale: *trembling as he watches all the videos* Cale: (D-Damn it!) Raon: Human, what's wrong? Your face is really serious! Narrator: Cale could not hear Raon's voice. Hours of battle footage, all captured in ultra-high definition and with incredible sound performance. Cale: Ha… *looks up at the ceiling* DA: Cale, we're totally awesome. Shield AP: The forest is beautiful. Cale: ...

While Cale was in shock and denial of what happened, the APs were giving rave reviews. 😂😂😂

Male user: I-I am Crazy Attention Seeker. Female user: I am Strawberry Cream Bun. Raon: I like that bread! Strawberrry Cream Bun: Gasp! *dies from Raon's cuteness* Cale: (These two are strange. They're like Clopeh.)

Cale finally met the two users responsible for his current suffering: Crazy Attention Seeker (CAS) and Strawberry Cream Bun (SCB). And he immediately realized that he had to be cautious of them because... they were like Clopeh. 🤣🤣🤣

SCB was fangirling about Raon's cuteness while CAS was extremely nervous yet excited to meet a "god." Meanwhile, HD was having his own monologue about Cale's godhood.

HD: *telepathically tells Cale* This is fun, but it will be hard for you to become a god. Cale: (What nonsense is he talking about?) HD: (Gods are both worshipped and feared. But heroes aren't. People look at them in excitement rather than fear. These two must be excited because they still don't know Cale, who faced GoC, to be a god-like being.) HD: (Coughing blood and fainting are bad, but also good. Because it makes you look human. A god must not appear sick to their believers. But Cale shows that he can be sick, and can express various emotions, reminding everyone that he is human.)

So HD... are you rooting for Cale's godhood or not? 🤣🤣🤣

Cale introduced himself with his real name and told the users that he was from another world because a god requested him to save this world. He was asking the two users for help as he mentioned that the game world was becoming real, but it would soon become hell.

What Cale wanted from the two was their expertise: releasing videos. SCB was a film director, and understood that Cale wanted them to create videos related to the Night and Light quest in order to move public opinion. Thus, the two, who acted like crazed fanatics, accepted Cale's request and joined in his scam to deceive the world.

The subquests that Cale received, the one about getting a skill and changing the attribute of a divine item, needed to be done in a sacred place outside of GoC's reach. So the Sun God saintess arrived and told Cale that the Sun God was calling for Cale and Alberu to the Sun God church's main HQ. And that was how Cale and Alberu ended up with the situation last chapter.

“Pfft.” And now. Alberu Crossman flinched once more at Cale's laughter. “Oh, suuuuuuuun- grant me a glimpse of your brilliant glory- oh, suuuuuuun!” Even in the midst of all this, the pope's cries were heard. “Huh?” Cale opened his mouth, feigning surprise. “Your Holiness, Your Holiness! It looks like the hero is coming to his senses!” “Alas, at last!” Alberu's irritation flared. Cale Henituse, he must be doing this on purpose. “Hero, hero!” Cale called to him in a desperate voice, shaking him slightly in his sleep. Alberu heard the subtle laughter in his voice and simply squeezed his eyes shut. 'This is driving me crazy.' As he closed his eyes, the quest window popped up. It was an unusual, wobbly quest window, as if sent by the Sun God. Of course, it was clearer than before. [Urgent Sub-quest: Show them the dignity of a hero!] 'Really driving me crazy.'

Cale enjoying teasing Alberu. 😂😂😂 Sun God eager to show off her hero. 🤣🤣🤣 And Alberu suffering from the two. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Ending Remarks Poor Alberu. 😂 Next chapter would be Alberu finally facing reality. How would he show a hero's dignity though? 😂 I really hope we'd get a flashback to his conversation with the Sun God.

[creature-wizard]

Scams, Hoaxes, Conspiracy Theories, & Cults Everyone Should Know About

Jilly Juice: Jillian Mai Thi Epperly claimed drinking sixteen cups of her super salty cabbage concoction each day could regrow missing limbs and cure everything from cancer to homosexuality. In reality, overdosing on so much salt caused followers a host of health issues that Epperley dismissed as "healing symptoms."

Nonhuman Body Hoax: Jaime Maussan attempted to pass off mummified human remains as nonhuman beings to the Mexican government. (This isn't even Maussan's first hoax, by the way. He has a history.)

Love Has Won: Amy Carlson, a woman who'd walked out on her own children, started a New Age cult in which she presented herself as "Mother God," the creator of the universe. She claimed to be in contact with dead celebrities and alien beings, and taught a conspiratorial worldview. As her health declined, she attempted to treat herself with colloidal silver and alcohol, and her behavior became increasingly abusive. When she finally died, her followers sincerely believed she would return to life and kept her body in a sleeping bag. (She did not return to life.)

Seed Faith Offerings: Reverend Gene Ewing came up with the perfect get-rich-quick scheme to prey on desperate Christian believers: tell believers that if they "sowed seed" by giving money to him, God would bless them with even more money in the future. He made millions of dollars from these donations, while most of his followers never saw the miraculous returns they were promised.

William Walker Atkinson: In the early 20th century, William Walker Atkinson wrote around one hundred books, many of which he wrote under various pseudonyms. Some of these pseudonyms included alleged Hindu mystics. That's right - this guy was practicing literary brownface to sell his mystical ideas.

The LDS Church: In the 19th century, a man named Joseph Smith claimed that an angel had told him where to dig up a set of golden plates that were supposedly written by ancient Hebrews who'd come to North America. Smith even had eleven close associates who vouched for the plates' existence. Yet the script they were allegedly written in bore no relation to actual ancient scripts of the Near East, and the the names the locations in the books he "translated" were very obviously derived from placenames he would have been familiar with. (For example, Oneida/Onidah.) Oh, and actual archaeology and DNA studies have discredited pretty much everything from this guy's weird racist narrative.

Fake Cancer, Fake Cure: Wellness entrepreneur Belle Gibson claimed that she'd cured her brain cancer with natural remedies. Gibson never actually had cancer in the first place.

Medbeds: Back in 2020, QAnons and QAnon-adjacent people started circulating claims that a new form of healing technology was about to become available to the public within the next several months or so. Depending on who you asked, Donald Trump, Elon Musk, and even the Galactic Federation of Light were involved. The time of their supposed unveiling came and went, and what do you know, there are still no functioning medbeds used in actual medicine.

COVID Vaccine Zombies: Conspiracy theorists have been claiming the government practices high-tech mind control for ages now. One recent iteration of this is a conspiracy theory claiming that people who'd received COVID vaccinations would have malicious DNA code activated by 5G on October 4, 2023, turn into zombies, and riot. The time came and went, and no zombie outbreak happened.

Ms.Scribe: In the early 2000s, a Harry Potter fan known as "msscribe" or "Ms.Scribe" faked her own harassment through a number of sockpuppets, with the apparent goal of becoming friends with some Harry Potter fandom bigwigs. She manipulated the fandom for a few years until the deception was finally uncovered.

[todaysdocument]

The Religious Issue in American Politics April 21, 1960

Collection JFK-2.3: Papers of John F. Kennedy: Pre-Presidential Papers: Senate FilesSeries: Files Related to Speeches and the PressFile Unit: John F. Kennedy Pre-presidential Papers; Senate Files; Speeches and the Press; American Society of Newspaper Editors, Washington DC

From the Office of Senator John F. Kennedy

Room 362, Senate Office Building

Washington, D.C.

FOR FLAT RELEASE AT 12:00 NOON (EST), THURSDAY, APRIL 21, 1960

THE RELIGIOUS ISSUE IN AMERICAN POLITICS

Following is the text of the address of Senator John F. Kennedy before the American Society of Newspaper Editors:

I have decided, in view of current press reports, that it would be appropriate to speak with you today about what has widely been called "the religious issue" in American politics. The phrase covers a multitude of meanings. There is no religious issue in the sense that any of the major candidates differ on the role of religion in our political life. Every Presidential contender, I am certain, is dedicated to the separation of church and state, to the preservation of religious liberty, to an end to religious bigotry, and to the total independence of the office-holder from any form of ecclesiastical dictation.

Nor is there any real issue in the sense that any candidate is exploiting his religious affiliation. No one's candidacy, by itself, raises a religious issue. And I believe it is inaccurate to state that my "candidacy created the issue" -- that, because I am replying to the Bigots, I am now "running on the religious issue in West Virginia" -- or that my statements in response to interrogation are "fanning the controversy". I am not "trying to be the first Catholic President", as some have written. I happen to believe I can serve my nation as President -- and I also happen to have been born a Catholic.

Nor am I appealing, as is too often claimed, to a so-called Catholic vote. Even if such a vote exists -- which I doubt -- I want to make one thing clear again: I want no votes solely on account of my religion. Any voter, Catholic or otherwise, who feels another candidate would be a superior President should support that candidate. I do not want any vote cast for me for such illogical reasons.

-2-

Neither do I want anyone to support my candidacy merely to prove that this nation is not bigoted -- and that a Catholic can be elected President. I have never suggested that those opposed to me are thereby anti-Catholic. There are amply legitimate grounds for supporting other candidates -- (though I will not, of course, detail them here). Nor have I ever suggested that the Democratic Party is required to nominate me or face a Catholic revolt in November. I do not believe that to be true -- I cannot believe our convention would act on such a promise -- and I do believe that a majority of Americans of every faith will support the Democratic nominee, whoever he is.

What, then, is the so-called religious issue in American politics today? It is not, it seems to me, my actual religious convictions -- but a misunderstanding of what those convictions actually are. It is not the actual existence of religious voting blocs -- but a suspicion that such voting blocs may exist. And when we deal with such public fears and suspicions, the American press has a very grave responsibility.

I know the press did not create this religious issue. My religious affiliation is a fact -- religious intolerance is a fact. And the proper role of the press is to report all facts that are a matter of public interest.

But the press has a responsibility, I think you will agree, which goes far beyond a reporting of the facts. It goes beyond lofty editorials deploring intolerance. For my religion is hardly, in this critical year of 1960, the dominant issue of our time. It is hardly the most important criterion -- or even a relevant criterion -- on which the American people should make their choice for Chief Executive.And the press, while not creating the issue, will largely determine whether or not it does become dominant -- whether it is kept in perspective -- whether it is considered objectively -- whether needless fears and suspicions are stilled instead of aroused.

[sirfrogsworth]

Early voting to beat the lines... the best-laid schemes of mice and men often go awry.

So... yesterday was quite the day.

After being stuck in bed for the past 6 weeks with some mystery slump, I was finally feeling better. So I decided I would try to cram as many errands into my day as possible. That works better for me when I drive out into the world because I end up only having to do one big recovery instead of a bunch of little recoveries.

My to-do list...

Go to the doctor

Vote early

Return oxygen machine to FedEx store for scammy eBay guy

Return Amazon package to the UPS store

Get gasoline for my whip

Go to Discount Tire to get my tires filled for free

Drop a check off for my lawn guy

Mail a secret package to Katrina at the US Post Office

It would have been nice if I could have gone to just one shipping place instead of all three, but the universe has a sense of humor and likes to do shit like that to me on a regular basis.

So, I get my checkup, it goes quick, no long wait, I'm feeling good.

As I get in my car, it starts to rain. It was an ugly day and it actually has not stopped raining to this very moment a day later. Just gray, windy, chilly, and wet. I look up the voting place and start the GPS.

Wipers and music on full blast, it's time to get my vote on.

When I reach my destination, I realize early voting is at some kind of private golf club. And at the center is a recreation center—which is a public building.

So it's like this private/public turducken situation.

I was expecting this errand to take 20 minutes. Because early voting always seemed like a way to get in before the crowds of election day for a more convenient voting experience.

But the parking lot was packed and I feared my expectations were about to be subverted.

As I walk through the parking lot I see a bunch of signs in the ground.

And a particular one caught my eye.

This is bullshit.

Like, just a straight up lie. No truth to it whatsoever.

Amendment 3 in Missouri basically restores abortion rights in the state. And Republicans have taken issue with the following language...

"The Government shall not deny or infringe upon a person's fundamental right to reproductive freedom, which is the right to make and carry out decisions about all matters relating to reproductive health care, including but not limited to prenatal care, childbirth, postpartum care, birth control, abortion care, miscarriage care, and respectful birthing conditions."

They claim the phrasing "but not limited to" means you can give an 8-year-old kid "sex change surgery."

This is how their online flyer puts it...

It could also include a free puppy.

Or a zillion bucks.

Or a clown will come to your house after the abortion and honk your nose.

It's ridiculous and desperate. I honestly don't know how it is legal for them to put a lie like that outside of a polling location, but here we are.

The organization "Missouri Stands with Women" is run by... a man.

It was set up by a lawyer named "Edward Greim" on behalf of the Federalist Society.

His law firm has a lovely biography about him. And a bunch of publicly available contact information. I say that for no reason whatsoever.

The Federalist Society funds all kinds of shit like this. Their main thing is installing conservative judges all over the country who will reinterpret or negate legislation. And they do it all to "stand with women" by taking away their reproductive rights.

Here is the board of directors of the Federalist Society.

Ya know, before I looked this up, I said to myself, "I bet it's going to be a sausage fest." I am psychic.

I think it would be more accurate to say they stand with A woman.

Just one.

And she sucks.

Nicole is a law professor at Notre Dame. She chose her Catholicism over her right to choose. The Catholic Church will fuck your rights and your children and Nicole will help them do it.

Anyway... back to my quick and easy voting experience...

So as I'm walking in to vote I keep passing a ton of these awful signs. I notice an older woman standing next to the aforementioned "child sex change" sign and she says, "Can I talk to you about Amendment 3?"

At this point, I'm pretty angry. I look her dead in the eyes and say with my most assholish tone, "NO." as I walk past her.

And then she finishes her sentence...

"...to protect the reproductive rights of women."

Ah, dammit.

I thought she was an old Karen but she was cool as heck. Standing out in the rain telling people the sign is bullshit. I wanted to turn around and apologize but I was stuck in full social anxiety mode so I just kept walking.

If that old lady happens to have a Tumblr and follows me and is willing to read this giant story... I just want to say I am sorry. I thought you were awful and I should have let you finish your sentence. You're super cool and I'm happy there are folks like you fighting for what is right.

I get inside and a young woman greets me. She tells me the line is in the next room and points. I still wasn't quite sure what the situation was. The parking lot being full gave me pause, but I was still hopeful I could have a swift early voting experience.

But I walk through the doors and into a huge gymnasium and my heart sinks.

It's hard to represent in pictures how long this line is.

It goes all the way to the end of the gym, loops around, and comes back. At first I was not too discouraged, because there was a nice gentle ramp at the start of the line.

But then I notice several sets of stairs at different stages of the line. And I'm just thinking how hard it would be to stand in this line and then also having to go up and down several sets of stairs.

So I go back to the young woman working there and ask what their accessible voting options are. And she told me I could do curbside voting and points outside. I then notice a line of cars wrapped around the parking lot. I don't know how I didn't see them walking in, but I guess I was too busy being a jerk to elderly progressive women.

My biggest concern was time.

The longer this takes, the more energy I use up, the longer my eventual recovery will be.

They tell me the car option is the slowest. And I could be in line for 2 to 3 hours. And then an old man who seemed to be in charge walks over and tells me the fastest option is to stand in line.

So I walk back out to my car and grab my cane and decide to try the long serpentine gynasium line.

I start walking up the ramp and some of the other folks see how slow and labored I'm walking and they start encouraging me. "You can do it! You got this!" Which I suppose was meant to be a positive helpful thing. But I found it to be embarrassing.

I get to the end of the line and notice most of the line has bleachers directly next to it. So I decide to sit down and rest and figure out how I am going to survive this experience.

It took me a while to recover from the long walk to this spot. I watched a bunch of people pass me by and the line was actually getting much longer as I rested. I was not really sure what to do. I was trying to problem-solve this situation but the answer that kept popping up in my mind was just... "go home."

But I felt this was too important and that wasn't really an option.

My best idea was to ask someone if they would hold my spot in line. Perhaps I could just sit in the bleachers and follow them around in the line, staying as close to them as I could. But my social anxiety was set to maximum and I was not finding the courage to ask someone.

After about 10 minutes of sitting, resting, and thinking, I basically say, "Fuck it, I'll try to stand in line."

I get up and start walking to the end of the line.

Then I hear a voice yell out to me.

"Hey, man! Come over here! This is your spot!"

A young man was waving at me. He was accompanied by his wife. Both of them were dressed in black and they had a sort of goth skater aesthetic going on. He had a competitively bushy beard, but with less gray. And she had very vivid purple hair.

I was a little confused and still processing what was happening. Then they both started waving at me to join them in line. They remembered I got there just before and told me I should be in front of them. I walk over and thank them. Then he suggests...

"Hey, why don't you just sit in the bleachers and follow us around the line."

He suggested my idea!

Without me asking!

I felt like he read my mind or something.

Can bearded people read each others' minds? Was this some beard skill I was unaware of?

"I got you, man. You just sit and we'll keep your place."

And his violet hair'd significant other agreed. "Yeah, we got you."

The kindness of strangers was more accessible than my polling place and I was just so thankful in that moment.

So I sat in the bleachers and watched them traverse the line. In the middle of the gym there were some teenagers playing basketball. And so I just rested and watched them play.

That young man in the red pants was like a goddamn Harlem Globetrotter. He was just embarrassing the others. He was bouncing the ball behind his back and through his legs and then he just danced around his opponents like a figure skater. It was such an unbalanced matchup. He might as well have been playing 4th graders. Not only was he significantly faster and more maneuverable, but he was consistently hitting 3-pointers.

And then during a break, he ran towards the hoop, jumped from the free throw line, flew all the way to the net, grabbed onto the rim, and proceeded to do several pull ups as if they were the easiest thing in the world. I don't think I've seen anyone jump that far and that high in real life and it was just a bonkers display of athleticism.

I spent the entire wait watching him humiliate the others—hoping he would get a full ride scholarship to some prestigious university.

And I hoped the other boys paid attention in school and got straight As, because basketball was not going to work out for them.

As my new goth skater friends progressed through the line, I would make sure to keep sight of them. Every once in a while I'd give them a head nod to acknowledge we were in this together. After an hour and a half they were at the final segment of the line, so I sat next to the wheelchair folks.

I probably could have argued to sit with them in the first place. But I really did not feel like making the case that I was just as disabled as them and needed that level of consideration. The old man running things seemed quite stressed and was putting out 8 fires at once. And my anxiety wasn't really cooperating enough to be assertive in my needs.

But it worked out in the end, so I'm not going to dwell on the lack of accommodation for people who weren't *visually* disabled.

My new bearded friend neared the end and waved me over. I thanked him and his wife profusely.

I joked, "Thank you for adopting a voter."

They seemed confused by my joke.

"No problem, man. Happy to help."

I told him and his wife they truly saved me. "I honestly don't think I would have made it through the line." And then I looked back...

I said, "As crazy as this is, I do find this kind of turnout encouraging." His wife agreed and said, "We were saying the same thing!" And then I thought, "Can the wives of bearded people absorb the mind reading ability? I hope she can't read my mind right now. Although, I'm mostly thinking that her hair is a really cool shade of purple, so she'd probably find that complimentary."

As I waited to get my ballot I could hear the happy couple behind me. They were very cute. They were making fun of each other in a very lovey-dovey fashion. I had high hopes they were going to grow old and gray and purple together based on their chemistry. And I was just so thankful they were able to recognize that I needed help without me asking. Because I probably would have just caved to my anxiety and not asked for help otherwise.

I got my ballot and sat down to fill in all of the appropriate squares. Thankfully I had prepared a cheat sheet on my phone.

It was an exact replica so I was able to copy it and finish quite rapidly.

Then I fed my votes into the vote-eating monster and they gave me a sticker.

My quick 20 minute adventure to vote early only took 2.5 hours!

And because I didn't want to buck tradition, I stood outside in the wind and the rain and took a voting selfie.

Yep, that seems about right.

Ah, crap... that was only the second thing on my to-do list.

Let's speedrun the rest of this story, shall we?

I drove to FedEx. I hauled a 40 pound box inside. I plopped it on the counter and said, "Man, this thing is heavy!" as I tried to catch my breath. The 20 year old working there then lifted it like it was a feather and I felt great about that.

I drove to the gas station because I was nearly on empty—that is both a metaphor and not a metaphor. I filled my ride with go juice.

I noticed I was a mile from the tire store and they fill up tires for free. So I did that and the guy was super nice and complimented my tires. I felt both weird and proud about having my tires complimented. Like, I had nothing to do with my tires being nice. But I accepted the praise on their behalf.

I drove to the UPS store. The last time I was there I made a scene. They refused to box up a return and I got upset and wasn't feeling well and they had to find a chair for me to sit in because I was going to faint. So I was hoping the same woman wasn't there, but she was. She didn't recognize me, so it was fine.

I drove to my lawn guy's house. He wasn't home. I dropped a check in his mailbox. My checks have corgis on them. My checks are cute.

I drove to the post office. I sent a secret package to my bestie, Katrina. I'd tell you what is in it, but it is an inside joke and you wouldn't get it. The woman noticed my voting sticker and I couldn't help thinking about what I just accomplished to get that sticker.

On my way out I noticed a miracle.

2 of the 4 doors were fixed!

I mean, I don't know why they couldn't fix all 4, but now the employees won't freeze in the winter. So I take that as a win. It only took a year and a half to accomplish and I'm sure all of my phone calls and emails did not help at all. But I'm going to pretend I saved the day regardless.

And then... I drove home.

5 hours of errands.

I was so fucking tired. My back was on fire with pain. I immediately collapsed into my bed. I passed out. And I slept for 14 hours.

The End

[mariacallous]

Most of the time, as the senior rabbi of Temple Beth-El in San Antonio, Rabbi Mara Nathan’s focus is on Jewish families. But this week, she’s finding herself thinking about Christian ones, too.

That’s because Texas is poised to adopt a public school curriculum that refers to Jesus as “the Messiah,” asks kindergartners to study the Sermon on the Mount and presents the Crusades in a positive light.

The curriculum, Nathan said, “gives Christian children the sense that their family’s religion is the only true religion, which is not appropriate for public school education, at the very least.”

Nathan is among the many Texans raising concerns about the proposed reading curriculum as it nears final approval. Earlier this week, the Texas State Board of Education narrowly voted to proceed with the curriculum, called Bluebonnet Learning. A final vote is set for Friday.

The critics, who include Jewish parents and organizations as well as interfaith and education advocacy groups, say Bluebonnet — which will be optional but which schools would be paid to adopt — inappropriately centers on Christian theology and ideas. They have been lobbying for revisions since it was first proposed in May, offering detailed feedback.

“The first round of the curriculum that we saw honestly had a lot of offensive content in it, and was proselytizing, and did not represent Jewish people well,” said Lisa Epstein, the director of San Antonio’s Jewish Community Relations Council.

Now those critics say most of their specific suggestions have been accepted but they remain concerned.

“Looking at the revision, we still feel that the curriculum is not balanced and it introduces a lot of Christian concepts at a very young age, like resurrection and the blood of Christ and the Messiah, when kids are just really too young to understand and they don’t really have a grasp yet completely of their own religion,” she added. Epstein, who testified at a hearing on the proposal in Austin on Monday, has a child in high school and two others who graduated from Texas public schools.

The Texas vote comes as advocates of inserting Christianity into public education are ascendant across the country. Political conservatives are in power at the national level and the Supreme Court’s conservative supermajority has demonstrated openness to blurring church-state separation.

President-elect Donald Trump has signaled support for numerous initiatives to reintroduce Christian doctrine into public schools, from supporting school prayer to endorsing legislation that would require public school classrooms to display the Ten Commandments. (One such measure in Louisiana was recently blocked by a federal judge.)

In Texas, Bluebonnet’s advocates say the curriculum would elevate students’ learning while also exposing them to essential elements of cultural literacy. They note that the curriculum includes references to a wide range of cultures, including ancient religions, and that the religious references make up only a small fraction of the material.

“They’ll elevate the quality of education being offered to all Texas students by giving them a well-rounded understanding of important texts and their impact on the world,” Megan Benton, a strategic policy associate at Texas Values, which says its mission is “to stand for biblical, Judeo-Christian values,” said during the hearing on Monday, Education Week reported. Texas Values called criticism of the proposed curriculum an “attack on the Bible.”

The Texas Education Authority solicited the proposed curriculum, which would join a menu of approved options, as part of a pandemic-era effort that waived some transparency laws, meaning that its authors are not fully known. But The 74, an education news organization, reported this week that a publishing company co-founded by former Arkansas Gov. Mike Huckabee contributed content to the curriculum.

Trump tapped Huckabee, a pastor and evangelical favorite, last week to become his ambassador to Israel.

For some in Texas and beyond, Bluebonnet represents a concrete example of how the national climate could ripple out into local changes.

“A lot of things, we think they’re outside of our community, or outside of our scope, like we hear these things, but are they really going to impact us?” said a Jewish assistant principal in the Richardson Independent School District north of Dallas who asked to remain anonymous. “But I think now that it’s becoming a potential reality, a friend was asking me, would Richardson adopt this? Is this something that is really going to happen in our community?”

While the Supreme Court has ruled that public schools can teach about religion, they cannot prioritize one religion over another in that instruction. So Bluebonnet’s inclusion of Christian and Bible stories in lesson plans drew scrutiny from the start — which grew after the Texas Tribune reported that a panel required to vet all curriculum proposals included Christian proponents of incorporating religion in public education.

In September, The Texas Education Authority’s curriculum review board published hundreds of pages of emails from members of the public along with whether the critiques had resulted in changes. Some did, the board noted, but many others were rejected.

A coalition of Jewish groups submitted 37 requested changes to the initial curriculum proposal. Epstein said the San Antonio JCRC had specifically objected to language in some lessons that evoked “antisemitic tropes” and textual inaccuracies in referencing the story of Queen Esther, as well as offensive references to the Crusades and language that explained the birth of Jesus as the messiah.

One passage had invited students to imagine “if you were a Crusader,” Epstein said, referring to the Christian knights of the Middle Ages who sought to conquer the Holy Land, massacred communities of Jews and are venerated by some on the Christian right.

In the case of the Esther lesson, the original curriculum had recreated an aspect of the Purim story in which Haman drew lots to determine when to kill Jews in the Persian Empire — as a way to teach probability. Nathan called that particular lesson “subversively antisemitic.”

“In ancient Persia [drawing lots] was a way of helping someone make a decision, and the game was called Purim,” the initial text read. “Ask students to choose a number from 1 to 6. Roll a die and ask the students to raise their hand if their number was rolled.”

“This is shocking, offensive and just plain wrong,” Sharyn Vane, a Jewish parent of two Texas public school graduates, said at a September hearing, according to the New York Times. “Do we ask elementary students to pretend to be Hitler?” (Historical simulations have widely been rejected by educators for all grades.)

Both of the lessons were revised after feedback from Jewish groups and others, but Epstein and Nathan said the changes were not adequate. A new prompt asks students to describe “the journey of a Crusader” in the third-person, but it still sanitizes the murder of many Jews and Christians during the Christian quest to conquer Jerusalem, Epstein charged.

And while the Purim lots activity was dropped, Epstein noted that a specific lesson plan about Esther — a beloved figure among evangelical Christians — also includes a reference to God, which the Megillah, the Jewish text telling the Purim story, famously does not do. She said that inaccuracy was not addressed in the revisions.

In a statement, San Antonio’s Jewish federation, under which the JCRC operates, also acknowledged the changes that were made after its feedback but expressed concern over what it called “an almost solely Christian-based” perspective with “inaccuracies” and content that is inappropriate for elementary school students.

“We are not against teaching a broad range of religious beliefs to children in an age-appropriate way that clearly distinguishes between ‘beliefs’ and ‘facts,’ and gives appropriate time and respect to acknowledging many different religions,” the federation said. “Public schools should be places where children of all religious backgrounds feel welcomed and accepted.”

The newer version of the curriculum also did not address the federation’s concerns about language referring to Jesus as “the Messiah,” written with a capital “M,” and references to “the Bible,” rather than “the Christian Bible” specifically, as the federation had urged the curriculum’s creators to adopt.

The Austin branch of the Anti-Defamation League, which was also involved in the efforts, also applauded the revisions that had been made thus far but said it still “reject[s] the current version of the proposed curriculum.”

“We agree that students should learn the historical contributions of various religious traditions, but ADL’s analysis of the originally proposed curriculum found that a narrow view of Christianity was overwhelmingly emphasized, there were few mentions of other faiths and the curriculum baselessly credited Christianity with improved societal morality,” the group said in a statement. “Although improvements have been made, the materials still appear to cross the line into teaching religion instead of teaching about religion.”

Criticism to the curriculum goes far beyond the Jewish community. Texas AFT, the state’s outpost of the American Federation of Teachers, a leading teachers’ union, also opposes the proposal. “Texas AFT believes that not only do these materials violate the separation of church and state and the academic freedom of our classroom, but also the sanctity of the teaching profession,” the union said in a statement.

Some Republicans on the Texas Board of Education expressed reservations about the curriculum’s quality and age-appropriateness, separate from its religious content.

And nonpartisan and interfaith groups like Texas Impact and Texas Freedom Network have also been involved in efforts to oppose the curriculum, as has the Baptist Joint Committee for Religious Liberty. Epstein said a Sikh parent also testified at one of the hearings, asking for her faith’s traditions to be incorporated into lesson plans to provide more religious perspectives.

Nathan said that when she testified against the proposal at a September hearing, her allies were diverse.

“Some of the people who were against it were not Jewish, and just were [against] the way that the curriculum was being put together pedagogically,” she said. “But there were both Jewish and non-Jewish people there, and also some Christian folks who were there who were opposed to such an overtly Christian curriculum.”

Marian Neleson, who has a 14-year-old daughter and a 12-year-old son in the Frisco Independent School District, said it has never been easy to be a Jewish family in her area.

“There’s always concerns as a parent when there’s just a handful of other Jewish children in a majority Christian school,” said Neleson, who is active in her local interfaith alliance. “From how the school celebrates, how they do their calendars. Do they remember that there is a Jewish holiday, and then they schedule major school functions on High Holy Days?”

Now, she’s worried that her own district could face pressure to adopt the new curriculum, if it is approved.

“These kind of curriculums are promoting one interpretation, one religion’s view, and I feel like that’s not very respectful of people who come from different backgrounds and different faiths and different religions,” Neleson said. She added, “I do think that the Frisco school district particularly does try to be inclusive and try to recognize the diversity of the community, but I know that there’s always pressure from groups who are trying to promote one agenda in the schools.”

The Richardson assistant principal said she saw in the financial incentive to adopt the curriculum — districts that do so will get up to $60 per student — an inappropriate assertion of support by the state. Many Texas districts are cash-strapped after legislators declined to substantially increase school funding last year.

“There is such a push in education for high-quality instructional materials,” said the assistant principal, who has three elementary school-aged children. “They’re pushing this so hard, and even potentially putting up funding for it if you adopt it, but it’s not a truly high-quality curriculum.”

In a Facebook post after Tuesday’s preliminary vote, Vane encouraged parents to reach out to members of the state’s education board to urge them to oppose the curriculum. “It’s not over yet,” she wrote.

Nathan said she’s not sure how much opponents of the curriculum can do if it’s approved, but she stressed the importance of local advocacy — especially since the curriculum is not required.

“I think reaching out to your local school board and communicating with local teachers in your community is going to be key,” she said. “If this occurs, what do I need to do in my local school district to make sure that there’s programming that balances the perspective?”

But she signaled that the intensity of the proposed curriculum would undercut any counter-programming by representatives of other faiths.

“It’s not presented as, ‘Here’s what Christians believe,’” Nathan said about Bluebonnet. “It’s presented as, ‘Here is the truth.’ There’s a difference.”

[countbarov]

medieval times were silly times

As I am equal parts stalker and writer, I have observed the KCD fandom for some time, and I've again found something that raised some questions for me. And this time it's not about homosexuality (alone), but the perception of medieval times in media today, in contrast with what we know about medieval times

A common name given to this period is "the dark ages" (and, as an ESL speaker, it's a phenomenon unique to English as far as I'm aware; feel free to correct me). But with a name as dramatic as that comes the connotation that "the dark ages" were rife with conflict, famine, death, disease, and violence of all kinds. But that's not what "the dark ages" means, and this evocative language is very misleading

They were called "the dark ages" because we didn't have enough information on them. Thus "dark", as in, lacking clarity

And importantly, they WERE called the dark ages. They are NOT called the dark ages anymore. Because we have more information on them

One of the things that gets brought a lot in relation to all characters, really, is religion. And since KCD2 is still very new, I won't make any specific reference to events in the game, but I will use KCD1 examples to illustrate my point

Religion in the Czech Republic has always been an interesting subject. They're nominally Catholic, but their history as a conquered nation and vassal state to bigger empires has marred the subject. It's considered today to be a very atheist nation, but this is a slight misunderstanding. Many Czechs are believers, but won't follow institutional Catholicism

Due to being ordered to die in battle for the Catholic church repeatedly (and causing a revolt about it, which was violently squandered by Catholic forces), it's easy to understand why the Czech public would be less than enthusiastic about Catholicism. But there was, in the 15th century, an interesting man by the name of Jan Hus. A priest who sought to reform the church to more accurately represent the Czech approach to religion; a priest who was executed by the Catholic church

A priest we meet in KCD1, interestingly enough, whom Henry accompanies on a debauched weekend of revelry, culminating in a drunken speech performed by Henry as he pretends to be a priest

Not very puritan and devout of him, alongside Hans' constant visits to the brothel

Another sore topic in the common understanding of medieval times is homosexuality, and how it's thought of by contemporaries

Modern conceptions of homosexuality will have us identify as "gay/lesbian"; as people who ARE homosexual and feel homosexual attraction. But back then, homosexuality wasn't understood as something you were: it was something you did

As such, "BEING" a sinful little gay wasn't a thing. You were performing a sinful act, but you were not sinful by nature, because it wasn't understood as an intrinsic part of your identity

This doesn't change the fact that it wasn't a good or happy time to be gay. For Hans and Henry it would've been a scary, uncertain, extremely secretive part of their lives. Their love could not be freely expressed and had to remain hidden from the public eye. But that doesn't mean they were ashamed of it

I think it's more beautiful to see their relationship as something they're proud of and happy to fight for rather than a sore topic of discussion. They would've been excited to share each other's company, share with their closest allies, and share in private without fear

It needs to be said, also, that I am not trying to police how people enjoy media. I'm simply expressing that Hans and Henry don't necessarily fit the mould of a tragic gay relationship as we know them today, and it's more interesting for me to engage with media where it's at. Part of the reason KCD's gay romance is so important to me as a gay man is that, instead of shameful and painful, it's euphoric, and gay media NEEDS more gay euphoria

We deserve to be happy, and I'm delighted that media starts to represent us not as doomed, but blooming. We deserve better than that

[chernobylbunkerr]

if interested in varg vikernes,

i highly reccomend looking into the murder of magne andreassen, perpetrated independently by bård gulvik "faust" eithun who was famously known as drummer for the norwegian black metal band emporer.

18-year-old eithun, when visiting family, stabbed to death a queer male after being sexually solicited by him. aside from the 37 knife wounds endured by the victim, andreassen, physical evidence proved that he had also been stomped on repeatedly by the head. initially undetected by the police, eithun informed friends of his offense to which they would together burn down a church in celebration. he was only recognized and arrested over a year following the incident.

pictures of eithun

eithun had relations with the band mayhem. he'd previously been pen-pals with their guitarist and eventually would situate to oslo where he'd work in that same guitarist's developing music store titled 'helvete' (translation to hell in norwegian).

because of his relations to mayhem a cinematic interpretation of eithen's character would be featured in the 2018 historical fiction lords of chaos.

+additional case originating from a similar music scene

the keillers park murder involved two perpetrators. jon nödtveidt (22), the frontman of the swedish melodic death metal band dissection, and a friend by the name of victor draconi (20) invited a man home of which they met in a park to discuss satan. once they discovered of his homosexuality victor unsuccessfully tased, although shot and killed their victim as jon remained an accessory to the murder. victor's girlfriend reported them both to the police which resulted in their arrest.

no pictures of victor draconi remain public. everything below includes only jon

[urhoneycombwitch]

shrine of your lights

Eddie Munson x fwb!Reader edibles and a church wedding to attend. what could go wrong with Eddie as your plus one? 

foreword: I listened to Say You Love Me by Fleetwood Mac for this. LOL. kind of AU bc it’s a few years after ssn 4 and everyone is alive and just fine (lovesick but oh well can’t b helped) based on this anon thank u for inspiring me!!!!

cw: a smidge of Catholic blasphemy, weed usage, friends w/ benefits Eddie, R is a bit of a love (and relationship) skeptic and Eddie is lovesick, R+E are in their 20’s, pining, public sex (no one but them observes tho), R has hair long enough to tuck behind ears, R gets a hickey but skin tone/color is not described, R has breasts and a V, softdom Eddie, marking kink (?)

wc: 4.8k

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The stained glass window in front of you looms tall, afternoon light streaming through and casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the polished wood flooring. You stretch out a hand into the warm beam of sun, admiring the way the colors catch and bounce off your dainty star-chain bracelet.

When Eddie had suggested you two eat some weed brownies as a precursor to your (very distant, very Catholic) cousin’s wedding, you hadn’t quite expected to get as stoned as you are now. Since Eddie hasn’t attended any major life functions sober since 1981, and seeing as how you refuse to step foot inside a church space without some sort of social lubricant, the weed wasn’t a hard sell at all. 

To be fair, Eddie had warned you of their potency, and you had snuck another quarter of a brownie when his back was turned: but christ, your tolerance must be crazy low or something, ‘cuz a window has no right to be this mesmerizing. 

You’ve been staring at it for the past five minutes, in your own little world while a steady stream of wedding guests file in through the big oak doors and mill about before the ceremony. The warm, still air of the church is heady with the smell of fresh florals and incense, and a line of votive candles flicker and wink against the windowsill.

Casting a glance over your shoulder, you see Eddie’s still speaking in gentle tones with an elderly woman (whom you’re likely related to, hard to say) near the foyer, all charming smile and sincere hand pressed to the slip of bare chest his button-down displays. You’ve got to hand it to the guy, he’s really great at endearing himself to total strangers; he’s been a natural shoe-in for any plus-one you’ve needed over the past few years.

While Eddie is perfectly in his element, holding what looks to be an engaging conversation while stoned to all hell, your focus is drawn back to the window. You should probably be on the arm of your guest, seeing as how it’s your family wedding after all, but the swirling lights and colors are too alluring to pull yourself away from.

“Beautiful piece of art, isn’t it?”

The voice behind you is unfamiliar, and proper social graces here would call for an introduction, perhaps a firm handshake, but your limbs and tongue feel so loose and the reply is out of your mouth before you can think twice- “God, yeah. S’fucking gorgeous. I want one for my house.”

There’s a light cough, and when you turn on your low-heeled Mary Janes it’s under the amused eye of a priest- in full priest-garb. Green velvet robes and little hat and everything.

You realize your error- swearing and taking the Lord’s name in vain- but the brief stint in Catholic school from when you were 6 is unfortunately not recalled in time to stop the scramble of swears mixed with apologies that come tumbling out. 

“Oh shit- I mean- fuck. Oh god. Sorry, Father, I didn’t mean-”

The priest- old as hell but thankfully with sense of humor still intact- smiles kindly at you and takes your hand in both of his, patting graciously. “No apologies are necessary, my dear. The beauty of God can be overwhelming and awe-inducing.”

You nod jerkily, grabbing on to his excuse- “Yes, yep. That’s exactly what happened. Struck down by the awe.”

The priest nods to you, and then to Eddie (who’s appeared at your side like a guard dog that sensed trouble), then wanders off down a row of pews to greet other guests.

You’re nearly doubled over with the effort it takes to conceal your laughter, Eddie stroking a calming hand down your back and chuckling with you under his breath. 

“Struck down by the awe, huh?” he echoes as you straighten back up and dab at the tears gathering against your lashline. “You really are somethin’.”

“That was so embarrassing but guess what-” here you lean in, voice a conspiratorial whisper as Eddie raises his eyebrows to look down his nose at you- “I don’t give a fuck ‘cuz I’m hi-igh.”

This last word is sung with a two-note lilt, and you turn back to the comfort of the sunny window as Eddie steps in beside you, shaking his head. “I told you to start with a lower dose, ya goose. Did you take more when I wasn’t looking?”

You shrug a shoulder, the soft linen of your cardigan brushing up against the hard leather of Eddie’s jacket. “Maybe. Couldn’t say. You gonna steal this window for me or what?”

He blows out a breath, pretending to appraise the size and heft, rapping his ringed knuckles against the sill- “Well normally I’d say ‘anything for my girl’, but we’d need a shrink ray for this type’a heist.”

“Maybe Dustin has one we can borrow.”

He sucks his front teeth, playing along, shaking his head in faux-disappointment. “Nah, little shit’s only got a ham radio. Useless when it comes to religious robbery.”

Eddie looks overly pleased when you giggle, but some of the humor in his face falls to concern as he reaches out to squeeze your upper arms. “Hey. You doin’ okay? If you’re too stoned to sit through the ceremony, I can find us a little spot to hole up in. I’m good at finding those.”

“I know you are,” you reply, waving away his worry. “I’m fine, honest. Do I look high?”

He holds you at arm’s length, giving you a contemplative once-over. “Nope. You look beautiful.”

You roll your eyes, affectionately, then smooth your palms over the front of your black slip dress and pull the scalloped sleeves of your cardigan into place. “Well, of that I am aware.”

Eddie winks, and you really wish you were sober enough that the warmth of his hands and the smell of his cologne would have less of an effect but high as you are, you want nothing more than to burrow into his neck and taste the salt of his skin. 

“Do I look high?” he asks, pulling away to do a little spin so you can appraise his appearance. 

Eddie Munson, as it turns out, cleans up very well for family functions: smart black boots, maroon button-down tucked into a pair of flare-legged trousers, worn but well-kept leather jacket to top the outfit off. And in signature Eddie fashion, little glints of silver highlight the ensemble- his usual chunky rings, stacked layers of thin chain necklaces, metal buckles on his coat and at his waist, even a set of tiny hoops (courtesy of your jewelry drawer) in his ears. 

The dryness in your mouth has nothing to do with your intoxication as you blink back to the present and give Eddie a once-over. “Uhm. Nope. You look sober. And very hot.”

He grins at you, wolfish, but then a bright chord of organ music signals the start of the ceremony. With a steady hand on your back, he leads you to a pew near the last row; when you’re both seated, his hand runs smoothly down to rest on your thigh, drumming a lazy beat with his thumb against you as the processional starts. 

Your cousin Marion looks lovely swathed in white tulle, contrasted with her groom in a black tux. Her mother, your aunt- Karen? Karina? can’t recall- dabs at her tears with a delicate lace handkerchief in the front pew as the couple exchanges vows, promising eternal and ineffable love until their ultimate demise, etcetera. 

You’re not someone who’s ever fallen prone to the gushy emotions that love seems to create in so many of your peers. While Nancy and Robin will dole out tissues to each other during some cheesy romcom, you’ll get ribbed for being so stoic. None of your breakups have ever ended in giant blowouts or dramatics from your side- hard to fight for something when you hadn’t really cared about it in the first place. 

That’s why you consider yourself so lucky, when it comes to Eddie. After the two of you ended your high school fling due to graduation, you’d come back to Hawkins after a few years of college and found yourself sneaking out like a teenager again to hang out with Eddie Munson. 

He told you he doesn’t want anything serious, either, and that he’s just fine being friends who sleep around and go to all of each other’s parties.

You almost believe him. 

He’s been to every one of your nephew’s hockey games this past season, and you’ve spent two cozy Christmases so far at the trailer with him and Wayne; every party in between has ended with Eddie driving you home, or (more frequently) back to his place. Your collective relatives and friends haven’t asked about your relationship status in years, and it’s all thanks to Eddie’s presence in your life: if the two of you aren’t technically dating, it’s really no one’s business. 

The old priest from earlier is droning on about some bible verse; uncomfortable on the hard bench and feeling restless, you shift your hips, and Eddie digs his fingers into the meat of your thigh.

“Quit. Squirming,” he murmurs, lips at your ear. When you shiver and still, he pats your leg and straightens again, eyes fixed to the front altar.

You and Eddie make it through the ceremony with minimal damage, only getting one dirty look from an older man in the pew ahead when you’d snickered at a dirty joke (courtesy of your benchmate). Marion and her new husband greet their guests one by one as everyone filters outside, and you coast easily through the interaction, kissing your cousin on both cheeks and fawning over her dress and giving just the right amount of congrats before Eddie plucks at your elbow to subtly redirect your attention. 

“Let’s get some food in you,” he says, linking your arms together as you follow the receiving line outdoors.

The reception is held just next to the church building in a surprisingly lovely courtyard. Sunlight filters through the willow trees at the edge of a grass yard, where a picnic basket awaits on each spread quilt. People are kicking off their dress shoes, unwinding with the lure of nature, kids chasing each other through the paths between blankets as adults wiggle their toes into the grass and dig into the luncheon.

Possibly, you’re high and over-romanticizing, but you can tell by the look on Eddie’s face he’s there with you, taking it all in from your blanket in a quiet corner of the yard. 

There are finger sandwiches in the basket, along with some fresh fruit and plastic utensils and plates to eat off of; Eddie fixes you a plate and you dig in happily, sock feet tucked under yourself, yours and Eddie’s shoes in a jumble nearby. 

“Could eat anything when I’m high,” you muse, then bite into a sandwich that has the perfect cream-cheese-to-cucumber ratio with a contented sigh. “Food is so good.”

Eddie snaps a baby carrot with his back teeth, then snorts at you before reaching out to tuck one side of your hair behind your ear before it gets eaten along with your food. “I know you can eat anything when you’re high. I once saw you scooping up apple pie with potato chips.”

You give him a sidelong frown, mouth full of bread and veg as you defend yourself- “Yeah, and it was great. Dee-licious. Would do it again if-”

Your name is being called, and you swivel to see a young man about your age weaving along the spaces between blankets towards yours and Eddie’s spot.

“Tony!” In a neat bit of multitasking, you manage to swallow your food and rise to your feet (albeit unsteadily, with Eddie’s hand snapping out to support your efforts), then hold your arms out to envelop the boy in a hug. “Oh my god, it’s been ages.”

Anthony Townsend has grown up in the time you’ve spent away- the last recollection you have of your former childhood neighbor is his mop of red hair bouncing with the trampoline his parents bought him in 6th grade. He grew into his looks, for sure- the awkwardness of pre-teen ears and too-big front teeth have settled into a very kind and handsome face.

He looks genuinely pleased to see you, returning your hug with a squeeze, pulling back to hold both your hands and ask about where you’ve been. You breeze through a highlighted version of the last few years, leaving out all the interdimensional monster bullshit and focusing the questions back on him.

Tony’s telling you about his father’s veterinary practice that’s still running smoothly when you feel Eddie at your back, and Tony falters, dropping your hands.

Social cues come a tad slow to you, under the influence, and you think Tony’s stumbling because you haven’t introduced him yet (how were you supposed to know Eddie’s been glaring daggers at the poor kid ever since you’d hugged him?), and you attempt to remedy your mistake with a casual remark- “You know, Eddie here has been feeding the stray cats at our place every night, a whole colony of them- there’s gotta be, what, ten of ‘em now?”

You turn to Eddie for confirmation, reeling a little at the dark scowl he’s still sporting as he nods. “Yup. Somethin’ like.”

Tony scratches at the back of his neck, freckled cheeks pink as he begins to back away- “Um, yeah. Cool. Well it was great to see you! I gotta…”

With a vague gesture, he turns and tails it back to his blanket on the other side of the yard. You whirl on Eddie, his face smoothing back into relaxed indifference, even as you hiss, “What the hell was that?”

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t know what you mean, princess.”

“That,” you repeat, waving an arm in the air for emphasis. “I know I’m not sober but you were being weird, even by my standards.” 

There’s this look that Eddie gets, sometimes, when one of you bumps against the walls of your loosely-defined relationship- a brief flash of pain and sadness before it gets hidden away behind his comfortable mask of bravado.

He’s got it now- a small pinch in his eyebrows, doey eyes swimming with emotion, and you put a hand on his leather-clad arm as the pieces fall into place. “Were you… are you jealous?”

In the span of a blink, the mask is back up, and with a dry laugh that’s so unlike him, Eddie shakes his head. “Nah. What do I have to be jealous of, huh? ‘S not like we belong to each other.”

Maybe on a different day, with half the weed in your system, you’d be able to let this comment slide. But there’s something deeply hurtful about it, sinking and twisting in your stomach like a stone. Your grip tightens on Eddie’s arm, tears stinging hot at your eyes, voice a watery, desperate thing- “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”

Eddie is quick to comfort you, once he realizes you’re close to crying- “Shit, sweetheart. Okay. You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to think…” Your voice is still shaky with emotion as Eddie lets you hold on to him, gently shushing you even though there’s no one near enough to hear. “You’re important to me, Eddie. I never wanna make you mad, or upset, or-”

“I’m not.” Eddie cuts smoothly into your rambling, placing his hands on either side of your neck as you cling to him, cool rings kissing into your skin. “I’m not mad, promise. I was just being an asshole for no reason, okay? Could never be mad at you.”

His thumb strokes at the column of your throat, your breath and heart rate lulled to normal under his touch, his expression returning to the gentle fondness you’re used to seeing.

“Let’s finish up lunch, hm?” Eddie says, and with a final soft squeeze he pulls away from you, taking with him the warmth of his palms.  

It’s always like this, with him, at least in front of your respective families- any PDA is kept to a strict minimum, nothing too intimate or drawn out so as not to attract attention. You’d implemented this rule from the beginning, and Eddie has been nothing but respectful of it, your peace of mind over not wanting a label pacified.

But right now? The lack of Eddie’s arms around you or his lips on yours was starting to make you ache. 

You both settle into the blanket again, conversation flowing around mouthfuls of food as you catch Eddie up with the latest family gossip, laughing when he bats your pointer finger out of the air (as if anyone is really paying attention to you two giggling loons). 

Someone’s brought a radio and has it dialed to a soft rock station; you gasp and shove at Eddie (sprawled out like a house cat after a full meal in the sun), exclaiming “It’s Fleetwood Mac and you love Fleetwood Mac!”

“I so don’t,” he grumbles, but rises easily when you tug at him to stand sock-to-sock feet with you in the grass. 

You both fall into a smooth rhythm, Eddie’s hands staying (respectably) on your hips, yours looped around his neck, doing a slow little rotation. He gazes at you as you sway back and forth in each other’s arms, the scrutiny making you titter and fidget.

“What?”

“Thought I told you to quit squirmin’,' ' comes his answer, hands tightening into the meat of your waist. “Let me look at you a minute.”

So you let him look. 

While his chocolate eyes roam your face, you trail a hand up to curl a lock of his hair around your finger. Eddie leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut, giving you room to do some staring of your own at those long, dark lashes. 

After another slow circle, Eddie inhales and draws himself back, clearing his throat. “Not that I’m not enjoying this, sweetheart, but we’re gonna start getting looks if you don’t quit using me as your personal stress toy.”

You snort. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“All good,” he replies, dimples springing into his cheeks, teasing again- “When we get home later you can pet me like a dog, if you want. Just gotta tone you down ‘cuz you get touchy when you’re high.”

Eddie’s being a perfect gentleman. He’s sticking to your rules and looking out for you.

So why is it making you so sad?

You realize, with a stunning clarity, that you don’t want to wait until you’re back at the trailer to touch Eddie. That you’re starting to crave him when he leaves, whether it’s for a day or an hour or just out of bed to get a snack. 

Fuck it, you think, and bend to scoop up your shoes. 

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you tell Eddie, slipping on your shoes then starting towards the building. When you realize he’s not following, you pause, giving him a look over your shoulder- “Aren’t you coming?”

Eddie blinks, wondering if you’re insinuating what he thinks you’re insinuating or if he’s just really, really high. “Um. Uh…”

You don’t leave room for the shock to sink in, turning on your heel and smirking when you hear him swear under his breath and scramble to catch up. 

In a narrow hallway lined with portraits of long-dead saints, you push Eddie against the wall, mouth sealing over his and hands roaming hungrily over his body.

“Fuck,” he gasps out, in between kisses, your fingers tugging at the root of his hair, near the nape of his neck where it stings the best- “what’s got you so worked up, princess?”

“You.” The answer is an honest one. You slip your tongue between Eddie’s teeth and the boy moans, melting into you.

Peppering kisses down Eddie’s face, your lips settle into the hollow just under his jaw, then part to give room to your teeth. Eddie stiffens as you bite down, sensitive skin pierced by your mouth; it’s his turn to be the squirmy one as you suck a bruise into that soft spot. 

His cock is filling out, as proved by the steadily-growing bulge behind his zipper. You give a mean little wiggle of your hips and Eddie jolts so hard you lose your spot on his neck, popping off him with a wet smack.

“Angel, you have to stop.” Eddie sounds absolutely wrecked as he tries to maintain some distance, head tipped back to stare at the popcorn ceiling. “M’not gonna last if you keep doing that. Let me take you home, we can-”

“Shhh.” You quiet him with a pointer finger smooshed against his lips, your other hand tilted to your ear. “You hear that?”

Eddie strains to hear distant cheers and hip hip hoorays from the festivities a few corridors away; when he nods, you whisper, “That’s the cake cutting. We have a good ten minutes before anyone thinks to come back here.”

At first, Eddie thinks he’s off the hook when you release him completely, walking swiftly towards the main sanctuary. But then, because you’re a temptress, you beckon him with an impatient wave.

And because he’s so easy for you, he follows.

It’s like that window has a magnetic pull- you’re back under the prismatic glow of the stained glass, brushing a hand across the wide sill to dust it before hopping up to perch there. You fit neatly between the split row of votive candles (all snuffed out by now), enough room for your knees to part and for Eddie to fill the space. 

You cross your arms around his neck, drawing him in with another deep kiss as his hands find your waist.

“Want you to mark me up,” you murmur, and when Eddie draws back, wary, you let your chin tip up. The crown of your head knocks into the window, exposing your throat. “Show them I’m yours, Eds.”

Only have to tell him twice, apparently, ‘cuz his teeth sink into your stretch of soft skin without further qualms. The feeling of his tongue soothing over the sore spot makes you jump, hips bucking forward into his hand that you didn’t even notice had trailed up the inside of your dress.

His long fingers pet at the wet patch that’s seeping through your underwear, catching at your clit on an upstroke, your gasp a harsh noise in the otherwise silent sanctuary.

Eddie begins to rub at you through the fabric in earnest now, tight circles with his thumb even as he pulls his mouth from your neck to assess his handiwork. “Yeah, fuck, sweetheart, that’s gonna leave a mark. You want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?”

Your bundle of nerves throbs under Eddie’s touch and you curse, hands weaving tight into his hair again. “Shit, Eddie, yeah- just like that…”

He dips back into the well of your neck with his teeth, keeps just the right amount of pressure on your clit, and that tension coiling in your lower stomach is just about to snap before you stop him with a hand around his wrist.

“Sorry,” you pant through the apology, forehead crushed to Eddie’s collarbone as you try and catch your breath. “Was about to come and I want you inside of me for that.”

“Jesus fucking christ.”

Eddie fumbles with his belt buckles as you giggle, chastising- “Hush and mind your manners, Munson. That’s blaspheming and we’re about to fuck in a church.”

“I’ll show you manners.” Eddie has his pants and briefs shoved to mid-thigh before you can draw breath to tell him off; one hand smears precum down the shaft of his ruddy cock as the other pushes your dress up and hooks your panties to the side. 

You’re wet and worked up enough that he slides into the heat of you with ease, breath punching out with the way his cock completely fills you. When Eddie pulls out and sinks back in, you let out a keening whine and scrabble for purchase on his leather jacket. 

“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it-” his voice is a dark rumble, each word punctuated with a snap of his hips, the squelch of your slick walls responding. “So wet for me. That’s my good girl. You like gettin’ off to being mine, huh, angel?”

You nod, head lolling against the window, and Eddie grins wicked even though you can’t see it. “Come on. Show me whose pussy this is.”

When his hand snakes between your bodies to press against your clit with his thumb, you come with a long, strained whimper, ankles crossing at the small of Eddie’s back to draw him closer while the velvet walls of your cunt spasm. 

Eddie’s free hand shoots out to the supporting wood arch of the window for stability as he angles his hips up, longing for that glossy honey-eyed look you get sometimes: and there it is, your eyes half-lidded and brow pinched in pleasure as his cock hits against that gummy spot, the tremble of your thighs locked around his waist as your orgasm peaks. 

Once he’s fucked you through the height of it, Eddie dips to bite at the taut muscle where your neck and shoulder meet, clamping down on the words threatening to flood out as his hips stutter. He comes hard, deep groan muffled into your neck, curses and praises spilling out in mindless babbling: “Fuck fuck, angel, that’s it, honey, shit, you’re so wet. All for me, huh, baby? Doin’ so good…”

He sags into your arms, pinning you to the window, chests heaving in tandem as you both catch your breath. You stroke a hand down his back, towards his ass, and then to the edge of his pants.

When he realizes that you’re trying to tuck him back into his clothes he whines at you, but you’re quick to shush him. “We’re cuttin’ it close with timing already, Eds. Help me out?”

Reluctantly, Eddie pulls away from the wet warmth of you to re-dress. Once his belt is in place he attends to you, helping shift the hem of your dress back down, rubbing his finger lightly under the skin of your eye where some mascara had smudged.

“I’ll double back for the keys and we’ll go home, ‘kay?” Eddie says, nose nudging into your cheek. “Wait here. You got some wicked marks and everyone will know we just fucked.”

“Pfft. No they won’t. Who would actually fuck in a church?” You push Eddie back playfully, hopping down from the sill with a wink. “You’ve gotta be sick to do that. Good thing my family believes you to be a perfect goody-two-shoes.”

Eddie stares as you make for the doors back to the courtyard, shrugging off his incredulity- “Eddie. It’s fine. So they’ll think we made out a bit. Who cares? Not me. And plus…” here you trail off and point, mischievous, Eddie’s eye’s following the line to his sock feet- “...you kinda have a no-shoes situation goin’ on. Gotta fix that.”

When you disappear through the doors, Eddie slams a palm to his chest, in awe- then feels the outline of the lighter in his inner pocket. With a practiced twist, he has it out and lit in a second, holding the flame to the wick of a votive candle.

“I don’t know how these candles work, exactly, or if atheists are allowed to…” Eddie clears his throat, glances over his shoulder to confirm you’re still out of earshot, then whispers above the flickering light: “Please let this be real life and not just some high-fueled fantasy because this is kind of huge for me. Okay thanks. Amen, or whatever.”

Eddie blows out the candle like it’s a birthday wish then hurries to catch up with you, sock feet silent against the wood floor as he calls out your name- “Slow down and have a heart, babe, I’ve got no grip!”

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Another List of Words related to Mythology

to include in your next poem/story

Archē - First principle or origin of things that exist. The Ionian philosophers posited a single element (water, air, fire) as the archē in the belief that everything was reducible to one substance.

Ataraxia - “Without perturbation, calmness.” Describes the Epicurean ideal of happiness: freedom from pain in the body and in the soul.

Cynicism, philosophical - Not a school, but a loosely organized sect. Most famous exponent was Diogenes of Sinope (ca. 400– ca. 325 BCE), who preached that happiness attained by limiting desires to the most basic needs. Ideal of life is attainment of self- sufficiency (autarkeia).

Elysian Fields/ Elysium - Abode of dead heroes and righteous souls. Set in Homer’s Odyssey 4 at the edge of Ocean; in Vergil’s Aeneid 6 it was incorporated into Hades as a separate part. Also equated with the Isles or Isle of the Blest.

Golden Bough - In mythology, a branch with golden leaves needed to gain entrance to the underworld.

Hubris - “Insolence, arrogance.” Used in situations in which a person of humble station insults a superior or, more often, when a mortal commits affrontery against a god.

Nous - “Mind.” Begins and directs the cosmic whirl in the cosmology of Anaxagoras, though not identified with god. For both Plato and Aristotle, the rational part of the soul.

Sophist - Private teachers in Athens in the 5th century BCE. They taught mainly rhetoric and techniques of argument to students preparing for public life; reputed for questioning traditional values, myths, and religious beliefs and for promoting relativism.

Theion, (to) - “The divine”; a quality that belongs to both gods and exceptional mortals.

Theomachia - A battle among the gods.

From "The Anatomy of Myth: The Art of Interpretation from the Presocratics to the Church Fathers" by Michael Herren

More: Words related to Mythology ⚜ Word Lists

[sugar-grigri]

Fans are Denji's source of unhappiness

First observation: Fumiko is worse than Barem

I don't like making meaningless comparisons, especially in a work like Chainsaw Man where when the characters aren't nuts, they remain at least morally gray. But this comparison makes sense in the sense that the construction of the chapter refers to it. As usual, let's analyze this by following the chapter's chronology.

This one takes place in a funfair, which is not an insignificant location, but we'll come back to that later. These few lines of dialogue already evoke a very simple idea: Denji isn't so stupid that he wouldn't know he was being manipulated. He knows full well that Fumiko was placed in Yoshida's care not to protect him, but to keep a close eye on him, to prevent him from turning and joining the church.

But she tries to disprove all this, evoking the ecstasy one might feel if one were Chainsaw Man. Being Chainsaw Man is also a source of unhappiness for Denji, who corrects her, and Fumiko adapts to his speech, looking for the first negative point that comes to mind. I think it was a real mistake for Fumiko to mention this point, but once again, she adapts to Denji's reaction. He's completely horrified at having been observed in the bathroom, so she shares his negative view of the situation.

She knows that Denji's main objective is sex-related, so she builds on that by downplaying what she's doing. This is fan behavior; fans are sexually obsessed with Denji in the hope that it will delight him. But Fumiko knows no bounds, either ignoring his consent or stalking him, which logically engages Denji's rejection reaction again.

Once again, he perceives the means of manipulation with the word "fan", and rejects it. So far, these experiences have only been negative and intrusive, and even when they have been positive, whether with Asa romantically or Power platonically, the demon of control, another female figure, has put an end to them.

But instead of stopping the manipulation, Fumiko goes on to confirm Denji's words even as they express pure disgust and rejection. For a character who knows absolutely no limits, she may also override stopping this conservation, but she continues with her family history. If public demon hunters know anything about Denji apart from his natural distrust and need for affection, whether sentimental or physical, it's his sensitivity.

I can't say that the story Fumiko tells is a complete lie, just as I can't say that she's telling the truth. She's a hunter, and anything she mentions could well have ended up in a report, especially given the national authorities' interest in the gun demon. But even if her story is true, the tragic aspect, not for her but for Denji, is even stronger.

Fumiko says she lost her parents because of the gun demon, that CSM didn't hear her cries for help. I'd like to remind you that chapter 79, the chapter in which she refers to Aki's death, is dedicated to the trauma of what it means to be Chainsaw Man.

For the demon from the future, Aki died in the worst possible way, not for him, but for Denji. It's clear that the little boy is forcing himself to continue this snowball fight he no longer wants to play.

At first, he tries to reason with Aki, forcing him to wake up, but when he himself is shot trying to spare one of his only loved ones, people won't let him lose. Chainsaw Man is a weapon of vengeance into which everyone projects their frustrations, the deaths of their loved ones. Denji was forced to be resurrected, to kill Aki not for himself, but for the community. Chainsaw Man never acts for himself. If Aki died in the worst way for Denji, it's because his fans, this community, forced him back to life to remove one of his sources of love.

Denji was traumatized by having to win.

Let's be clear: it wasn't Denji who ignored their calls for help, it was they who ignored his.

Isn't it tragic to criticize Chainsaw Man for not hearing Fumiko's cries for help, or the cries of all those people, when he was instead so compelled by them, like a machine that would be reset to kill a loved one ? Chainsaw Man, on the other hand, hears all the pain in the world. This doesn't mean that Denji is altruistic - he isn't. He's closer to amorality than compassion, but like a permanently dehumanized machine, he must serve others. It has no morals, so how can it live for itself ?

That's why what Fumiko says is so paradoxical: saving Denji means finally allowing him to live for himself, granting him the right not to hear all those voices.

She doesn't mean what she says when she says she's never thought of him as a god, but simply as a child in need of protection. She's only setting up a dissident discourse to that of the church, which idealizes him by banking on the part of identity that is Denji, while the church banks on Chainsaw Man. How can someone who is constantly sexually abusing Denji be competent to protect a boy?

This chapter is about setting limits for children. To have access to the merry-go-round, you have to be over 1m10 tall. These clear limits were never set for Denji, either when he was forced to kill Aki or even when he explores his sexuality.

Having killed his father, been martyred by the mafia and then manipulated by a demon, Denji is now at the heart of other vicious circles. He's condemned to being too young an adult, watching over Nayuta like a parent while children play behind him, not enjoying the funfair with friends, a girlfriend, being cloistered on that bench. The bench represents the stagnation in Denji's life, his questioning, placed on the bench of his own life, his name unknown to his fans, his nature instrumentalized, his age ignored.

Denji needs and must be considered with the age he is, a 17-year-old teenager. Yet even this characteristic, even the fact that he's still a child, is ignored by Fumiko, hence her insistence on the word "senpai".

The treatment of Fumiko is good, I find her to be the very embodiment of Denji's sexual trauma in the sense that she constantly manipulates him to play on his interests, and constantly ignores his own desires, his limits.

Fumiko manipulates, hence the emphasis on her outraged expression when Barem interrupts. If Barem's manipulation is more grotesque, it's not to manipulate Denji but to mock Fumiko's strategy. Although it's incredibly more insidious, the weapon has a clear idea of what she's up to.

And yet, in just a few sentences, it's right on target. It's much closer to Denji's reality than to Fumiko's human perspective. Weapons are seen as weapons, machines at the service of humans, whose immortality is a pain, as it leads them to the trauma of always winning.

Barem uses a cigarette, obviously reminiscent of those smoked by Aki, who had given in to Himeko's advances and needed an outlet for his stress. Aki's misfortune is to have spent his life on revenge, living to avenge the dead, not living for himself. The cigarette was his flaw, the proof of his humanity, the one he threw at Denji to spare him the pain of getting involved in the horrible business of hunting demons.

Whether or not it was there to manipulate Denji by reminding him of his older brother, whether or not it was there by chance, it conveyed the same message: proof of the humanity of a man who lived for others. A man who was executed once again for that same community.

This community, Denji's fan club, is the cause of his deepest misfortune. Chainsaw Man has never been so popular, yet Denji has never been alone. Because he's not allowed to have loved ones. Nayuta, too, is proof of this: she wants her brother for herself, and convinces him that he's loved by others by acting under the cover of Chainsaw Man.

That's why Denji's intervention to stop the attack in progress is much less certain. All these fans, this humanity waiting for Chainsaw Man, are the source of his misfortune. Of course the fan club will call Chainsaw Man. What's less obvious...

Will Denji listen to their cries for help?