#see as an existential threat??

[earthytzipi]

for people to say that young Jewish people breaking down out of fear (even fear that's not justified) is the same thing as white tears is despicable. did you all fucking forget about the Holocaust? why do you think a young Jewish person who's been told Zionism is the answer to antisemitism their whole life and that Hamas wants to kill them might react with fear? just use your fucking brains for One Singular Minute.

the answer to Zionism in Jewish communities is not the same as the answer to racism. telling Jewish Zionist people, who have been raised around people who suffered a genocide, who have this severe intergenerational trauma within living memory, that they are the same as a random white Christian American when they have a trauma response to something they've been told is an existential threat is not fucking helpful. in fact, it's only going to cement their Zionism.

do you actually want to eradicate Zionism in Jewish communities? start by acknowledging that antisemitism is real, still happening, and deadly. until you can do that, most Jewish Zionists are not going to be receptive to you. if you can't do that, I suggest leaving that work to Jewish antizionists and devoting your energy to political actions that will help Palestine, like calling your reps, protesting, and continuing to raise awareness about the situation on the ground there.

[mollysunder]

Arcane gives away the plot in incredibly unsubtle ways The most unsubtle hint is that Sevika's name can literally translate to "Servant of God". That's genuinely clever.

The origin of nations are highly mythologized stories so it works that her role in the story and on a meta level is to assist larger than life characters with cults of personality that can make Zaun's story happen.

The story isn't subtle about any of this! She worked for Silco, a man draped in anti-christ imagery with a cult clearly brewing in the background of Zaun, because he could make Zaun happen. Then when Silco's ability to put Zaun's independence above all else faltered in the face of his loyalty and love of his daughter he dies.

In a bit of foreshadowing Sevika already revealed the trump cards she had in her deck in the face of Silco's absence, Jinx and Viktor. Two figures already set up for greater feats of grandeur and idolization than Silco had achieved alive.

Jinx, whose been baptized and ressurected as often as Silco, is the character for without whom the plot could not exist (or keep going). Jinx's militancy against Piltover forced was the reason Zaun's independence into the Council's room. And throughout the show Jinx imagery has either absorbed or subverted Janna's symbolism.

Janna is characterized by swirling blue winds, but in Zaun it's the blue of Jinx's cloud smoke that defines the land.

Instead of Janna's blue bird meant to symbolize hope, Zaun is filled with Jinx's crows that call out Jinx's next act.

Now Jinx has desecrated Janna's holy site in her own image by adorning the ruins with a shrine to her own life.

Meanwhile we've seen Viktor in the Sump, shrouded like a prophet to heal those harmed from their long-term shimmer dependence. Viktor is not set to remain in rags though.

Half the time the Machine Herald is referenced it's always coded in power.

In the first shots of Zaun post-time skip we see a well guarded building called "The Herald's Palace".

In Sevika's playing cards Viktor's mask is given prongs to evoke the image of a crown. In both instances the Machine Herald's image is laced with Jinx's visual motif. First Jinx's blue swirls Frame The Herald's sign on his building, and her debut tag is centerd on his tarot card.

It's only in past deeds is Jinx's presence unseen on Viktor's work. For example, the drains of the water treatment system Viktor is hinted at creating are decorated to resemble previous iterations of the Machine Herald's masks and are visually his alone.

It seems we're in for a double act next season!

[supreme-leader-stoat]

Everyone else on the funny election poll:

Jeb!

Voteblues on the funny election poll:

[machineheraldbabe]

laying in bed, trying to fall asleep, thinking about viktor’s potential to be a major player in season 2. what if. what if.

[serpentface]

Do psychotropic drugs and/or ritual play a role in any of the blightseed cultures? A pretty broad question, lol

Yeah that’s a very broad question, the answer is about as much as it tends to play roles in real history. Alcohol is pretty ubiquitous (outside of cultures that abstain from intoxicants) and used for a variety of purposes, opioids are commonly used in some parts for pain relief or recreational purposes, stimulants (usually in mild, natural forms) are used to provide extra energy, and hallucinogens are most commonly used as part of a larger religious framework (rather than for recreational purposes). Any more elaborate answer kinda has to be case by case in a certain culture or part of the setting.

I'll just take this as an opportunity to talk about the one established sect that pretty much REVOLVES around psychoactive use. This is the Scholarly Order of the Root, which is a sort of mystery religion + elite community of scholars who currently occupy the Ur-Tree and its forest in the far southern Lowlands (southeast of Imperial Wardin, on the same land mass).

The Ur-Tree is the obligatory Huge Fucking Fantasy Tree (and its surrounding forest). It’s a mass of vegetation about a mile tall and almost as old as Plant Life Itself, its upper branches are primeval plants, which become more modern the nearer they get to the ground (and each 'level' holds tiny ecosystems, some containing descendants of LONG-extinct arthropods/other small animals). Its lowest branches and the surrounding forest are contemporary plant life, and all is connected and protected by an incomparably MASSIVE fungal mycelium network (which is itself a living god).

A lot of the Scholars' more secretive practices revolve around experimentation with substance use with the goal of expanding the Mind and transcending the body to fully connect to the Dreamlands, and they have a supply chain of traders and mercenaries called Rootrunners who traffic substances into the Lowlands. Most of their psychoactive use is in a very intentional capacity and not just like, for fun, but a LOT of them are just straight up addicted to cocaine (in the form of alchemically refined bruljenum, which is used for practical purposes of its stimulant effect during long hours of work).

All known psychoactives are desirable for experimentation (particularly hallucinogens), with each having properties that either allow expansion of the Mind, transcendence of the body, or outright divine communion. Their effects are logged in great detail and interpreted to form the basis of the Scholars' understanding of the natural world and reality itself.

The most important substance is Ur-Root, which is root matter from subterranean levels of the Ur-Tree that have both their own intrinsic psychoactive substances and a very, very high concentration of living god mycelium. The tree root contains DMT and the mycelium has its own wholly unique effects (being an actual living god). They alchemically refine it into a purer, more potent form, and use it to expand beyond the body and directly commune with the Giants, a group of entities they have identified as the only true gods.

An Ur-Root trip starts off with minor visual distortion, which turns into shifting fractals that slowly obscure the vision. Eventually the senses are entirely taken over by a 'tunnel' of rapidly shifting fractals and geometries. In a complete trip, the experiencer gets a sense that they have been pushed through a membrane and entered another realm, finding themselves in a distinct experiential Space.

At this point they may encounter entities which communicate to them in a language impossible to describe but wholly understood. These beings are understood to be the Giants, or at least aspects of the Giants that mortals are capable of comprehending (they often take familiar tutelary forms of the Mantis or the Snake, or appear resembling the same type of sophont that the experiencer is, all composed of ever-shifting geometries). The experiencer often feels a sense of unconditional and endless love from these beings, though the Giants may be more hostile and may appear in the form of the Trickster (usually a cultural figure regarded as malicious, be it an animal or otherwise) in a bad trip.

(^Up until this point, this has mostly just been a DMT 'breakthrough' experience ft. 'machine elves' and the like).

They are then removed from this space and returned to something that feels like the real world, but is nearly unrecognizable. They have a sense of rapidly moving through time, and will usually see 'the spires' towards the beginning, which just so happen to look like this:

(source + some context via Implication- the spires are exactly what this art is depicting)

The experiencer continues to move across an unfathomable amount of time, occasionally 'seeing' other such flashes of unfamiliar landscapes and creatures, and yet also being devoid of all their senses, the 'seeing' is pure, unfiltered experience. There is a sense of interconnectedness with all life, and that one has become the forest (or even Life) itself. The sense of time is wildly distorted, the trip lasts only about 5 minutes but feels like an eternity and is understood as literal hundreds of millions of years.

The experiencer has usually lost any remaining sense of Self and individual consciousness during this phase (in which case this time distortion is usually a neutral or even peaceful experience), but some retain a fraction of their identity, and find themselves trapped and conscious while experiencing what feels like eternity (which can be LIFE-CHANGINGLY distressing, even after the fact).

(^This latter part of the trip is the effects of the Ur-Tree fungus).

The trip ends with a sense of rushing through the ground and back up into one's body, at which point they will abruptly return to their senses and consciousness. The details are then immediately retrieved via interview and recorded in immense detail. The whole experience is understood as having been full comprehension of the Dreamlands, communion with the Giants, and then a tour through the act of creation.

This is done as part of the initiatory practice into the inner mystery-religion of the scholars, and as needed for study by high scholar-priests. It is not taken lightly, both as it is absolute communion with the gods and reality, and in that it can be a very, very difficult experience. People who have gone through this often walk away with a permanently shifted perspective, often in a positive and/or comforting way- a sense of interconnectedness with all life, a peace with the concept of death, seeing less of a point in individual ego and the concept of Self, and comfort in the sense of divine love they (may have) experienced. This heavily influences the philosophy of the Scholars and has had effects by proxy in the religious worldviews of the region.

Details of this experience are closely guarded, and initiates are given absolutely no prior knowledge and expectations for their trip. This is seen as a necessity- their naivety will allow for a true, unfiltered experience, and can be used to gauge whether they should or should not be accepted. Those that have a distinctly bad trip upon initiation may be assumed to have been 'rejected' by the giants and thus denied full priesthood, though this largely depends on How they interpret their distressing trip- those who identify this as a test and harsh lesson in a journey to enlightenment may be accepted (as this is how fully initiated scholar-priests interpret and handle their bad trips).

This inner priesthood is only a small fraction of the Scholarly Order, and its greater function is as a hub of education and repository of knowledge, and Scholar-trained doctors can provide some of the best medical care available in the setting ('best medical care in this setting' only means so much but it's pretty solid, relatively speaking). Only a chosen few Scholars ever get to commune with the Ur-Root, and most of the divine secrets revealed in the process are kept hidden (though they indirectly influence the politics and worldview of the entire order).

[gae-ta]

and worst part is that if (when) that nuclear powerplant in Zaporizhzhia blows there is a high chance there will be next to 0 consequences for russia from the rest of the west

like if the russians blew off a nuke then there’s no doubt ww3 would happen but mining a nuclear power plant and then blowing it to high heaven? same radioactive fallout but for some reason it will be treated as a different thing

[123pixieaod]

Inspired by this godly post which unlocked a part of my brain I didn't know existed, and solidly gave me complete and utterly brainrot until I wrote something

A thousand thanks to Lily for her wonderful help :))

"Does Kelly not mind you spending all your time with me?" Daniel asks, because she's Daniel and once she's thought something she can't keep her fucking mouth shut, even if she knows it's trouble.

Max looks up, pausing his set of weights, and blinks at her. Daniel feels her cheeks warm. One day, that mouth of yours will run you straight into trouble, young lady, her mum used to tell her, voice firm. Good girls know when to keep quiet. Daniel used to just laugh at the warning. Her laugh is loud and the opposite of quiet, but she used to know that everyone always loved her laugh.

"No," Max says after a beat and then continues lifting. Daniel hates the way her gaze tracks over him, lingering on the movement of his muscles, the ease with which he lifts the weight. Tawny hair brushed out of his eyes, cheeks dusted warm from the exertion. "Of course not."

"Why of course not?" Daniel asks. She wants to sew her mouth shut. This time, Max didn't look over as he answers.

"Kelly's very secure, she's not like other girls. And besides, she knows you."

It's strange. When Daniel was seven and Michelle eleven, they'd gone rock pool fishing. Michelle had been crouched over a shallow pool of water, her finger delicately brushing the tentacles of the anemone. Daniel had been scaling the rocks, wanting steeper, taller, more.

She'd found the shark first, nestled high at between the rocks, and for a beat she hadn't known what she was looking at. Just details, but nothing collective. Rotting smell. Shrivelled holes where eyes should be. Scales of silver lightning. Rubbery fish picked clean. The flash of bone, pearl white.

Then she realised what she was staring at, and screamed. Her father held her while her mother scolded her. I told you not to go climbing! It's too dangerous, Daniel. Why can't you just be good like your sister and stay by the shallow pools?

And then, later, ice cream. Her dad, beside her, explaining the horror away.

It's just nature, Dani. The waves wash them up, and they get stuck there. They can't get back to the sea, and then the sun dries them out.

They drown on air, Michelle helpfully pointed out, her feet kicking happily as she licked her 99. Daniel just just nodded, ice cream untouched. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the sunken holes, the rotting flesh.

She hasn't thought about that moment for years, but suddenly it washes back over her. She feels simultaneously both. The child, staring at the carcass, frozen in shock. The shark, burning up in the sun, chocking on air.

"What does that mean?" She asks, and somehow her voice is normal, is fine. She's fine. She's not a girl or a shark. She's stupid and a fool and a gawky, ugly idiot, but she's fine.

Max manages to shrug, even with the 50kg weights. "You know. Just that Kelly knows you. She knows what you're like. And she knows me too, of course."

Daniel swallows. She nods. She hates everything about herself.

"That's sexist," she forces herself to say lightly because if the silence stretches anymore, Max might notice and set his weights down and look at her, and Daniel can't bear that. She doesn't want his eyes on her, taking in every blemish and imperfection. The boyish, ratty clothes she works out in and her curls gone frizzy with sweat and her inked skin, so different to Max and Kelly's pale, perfect complexions.

"What's sexist?"

"Saying she's not like other girls," Daniel tells him, setting down the weights she been doing. Instead, she goes to grab the skipping rope, just for something to do.

Max laughs. Daniel's glad she's turned away. Her cheeks are burning again.

"It's the truth. You, of course, Daniel, are not like other girls either." He says it lightly and ends with a chuckle, as if it's all just a joke. Daniel drags a sweaty hand over her cheeks. Burning, burning, burning.

Apparently, in Max's mind, she and Kelly are the same; both not like other girls. Kelly, with her faultless makeup and wonderful daughter and classy dresses and perfect feminity. One end of the scale. Daniel, the other. Barely even considered "a girl." Always one of the boys, only woman in f1 for a reason.

"Thanks," Daniel says. She wants to make it sound humorous, like she's in on the joke too. Instead, it's too cold; muttered as if she actually gave two shits about the conversation anyway. She has an F1 season to prepare for, she's too busy to care about stupid shit like this.

There's a beat of silence as Daniel stretches out the rope, feeling the plastic flex and give. Then, Max exhaling, the gentle bump of his weights against the floor, the workout bench shifting as his centre of gravity changes. Daniel keeps her back to him, ignoring it all.

"I did not mean it as insult," Max finally says, stubborn. Daniel forces a laugh, turning to give him a smile, all teeth.

"Of course not Maxy. I get that." Voice light and blithe. One of the boys.

She thinks he'll drop it, but instead, his frown only grows. Pinched brows, thin lips, cheeks growing blotchy. Blue eyes regard her, intense and unyielding. She burns from the inside out.

"I've upset you," he says, in that blunt, genuine way only he can do. Daniel barks out another laugh.

"Don't be stupid. You're not important enough to ever be able to get under my skin." She gives him another smile with only teeth. She feels insane. Her mother tells her good girls stay quiet.

"I'm sorry," he tries again, growing frustrated now, "I did not mean -"

"I told you, you didn't upset me," she drops the skipping rope without actually using it. "Anyway, I'm bored. Wanna get lunch now? Or are you still trying to pump those muscle with more testosterone?"

Max gives her one last, searching look before standing. They're almost the same height. She wants to shrink to nothing.

"That is not how testosterone works, Daniel," he says with the air of an overworked teacher. He looks at her with a smile, uncertain but genuine. She laughs, allowing him to move the conversation on.

She walks out of the gym first but holds the door for him. He grins, relieved. His fingers skim hers as he takes it and she lets go. A chill runs through her. Cold like scales, cold like ice cream untouched.

Follow up here!

[nostalgia-tblr]

i wish we didnt call it thoshei i get that it's about the best we can do for a smushed-up pairing name but - hear me out - a combined pairing name that uses neither character's actual name just... isn't? especially when the names they do use for themselves and each other are such a Thematic Thing? so it's like. the worst possible pairing name we could be using for this pairing?

[mexashepot]

The fact that a Ukrainian twitter mutual of mine, who lives in a front (!!!) Donbass city, an area often targeted and that was partially and temporarily occupied by Russia back in 2014 (fully under Ukraine's control today though thank goodness), messages me every time she has wi-fi to make sure I'm ok is just. wild.

[solivagantingrebel]

I think what gets to me about TMA the most is when like - just when you think a new 'normal' has established, boom! change. and it keeps happening and happening and now I'm really attached to the characters and invested and things will just get worse and -

[wren-kitchens]

okay this is almost definitely unrelated but yk how in joel's last episode he n jimmy allied again

and now grumbot has said to purge the empires server

and now all the empires members. are gone from empires so they won't know if anything happens

[mybrainproblems]

sorry but i am going to be very american and selfish and navel gaze-y for a moment but this is on my mind a lot as we approach february. just... ignore me.

i'm of ukrainian heritage. i'm also completely disconnected from my heritage because my great-great/great-grandparents fully assimilated as americans.

with the exception of my great-uncle (who lives far away and i rarely see), i have no living relatives who know much about our heritage (or are willing to talk about it in any detail beyond the romanticized ~*immigrant experience*~). everything i know about our family comes from my uncle because everyone else is dead; either died elderly and comfortable in the US or likely died in the holodomor. trying to research my family is useless bc my great-grandpa changed his last name to something completely made up so he could find work when he was in his early teens. this has always been a "fun" legend in our family; the choice to disconnect. it's a story our family has always told like it was some sort of wacky hijinks and as a kid was very funny but now, in my 30s and watching a cultural genocide unfold in ukraine, it feels devastating.

there are a small handful of things my family has held onto while also losing. there's the lost recipe for my great-grandma's holubsti (a word i didn't know how to spell until recently) that my family mourns every time we get together. i used to make pysanky for easter with my parents, which was passed down from my great-great aunt. my dad inherited her pysanky dyes after she passed away and we had them for years before most of the jars broke in a move. we have one remaining unbroken pysanka from her that i think she made in the 70s. i cannot imagine having hands so steady to make those intricate designs. mine always came out looking like shit.

i've always been curious about this part of my heritage but never felt any great need to seek it out until now. it feels fake and disingenuous to be interested in learning about this part of my heritage as a result of a war. that i didn't seek it out sooner. what is wrong with me that i care now.

i'm not sure where i'm going with this. i'm not sure what or how i'm supposed to feel. what i do feel is lost and angry and sad and selfish for feeling this way.

[aspacewar]

I am,,, feeling so incredibly normal today, about my imaginary D&D dude and their train-wreck of a life

Sorry mutuals & followers I’m gonna be Worse than normal today I swear I’ll shut the fuck up soon

Need a separate blog for D&D shit honestly

[kindredspiritsandgoodomens]

Scrolled too far on IMDB and now can't stop re-reading this review of The Future Job (Leverage, 2010), baffled. Insert image of Eric Andre staring through small opera glasses here, etc.

[talesofwhimsy]

It’s days like this that I reconsider ******* ****** ** ** because a song told me to

[wilwheaton]

The bigger her victory (knock on wood) the less likely we are to have to spin our wheels every two or four years trying to stave off a fascist takeover. The clearer his defeat, the likelier his GOP accomplices are to melt away, and (thus) the likelier he is to rot in a prison cell without much fanfare. Failure to reform at that point would make the GOP a rump party, much less menacing than it is today. More Republicans will become Democrats, and I suspect we’ll see less drift to the GOP, as Trump gives way to weirder right-wing sexual moralists. A reformed GOP would probably be harder to beat, but less of an existential threat to freedom and democracy. That would be good! The country will be in big trouble if Trump wins, but it won’t be safe if Trump loses by a paper-thin margin. Earlier this week, while gaming on Twitch with Tim Walz, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez explained why progressives should dread another inside-straight Trump presidency. “I do not wanna do four more years of resistance nonsense under Donald Trump, okay? Like, good God. Do we remember what it was like waking up every day and there was some shit going on?”

Run Up The Score - by Brian Beutler - Off Message