#slash quote until the soup part

[chonnysinferno]

okay i said i’d be normal but i lied. leko soweli https://youtu.be/pW24p_xFKa0?si=ItW2UJ0gf3da9Oc0

This destroyed my emotions. I can't feel anything anymore. This video made me realize something hugely important: life can be hold on i need soup my stomach hurts

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 21, part one

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Reunions

All together in The Unclean Realm, The Yunmeng trio find a spot inside where they can sit down and have a proper Yanli-Wuxian reunion, while Jiang Cheng sits across the table watching them. 

For years Jiang Cheng has been rejecting Wei Wuxian's free and easy affection; now Yanli might be the only person Wei Wuxian offers to hug until Wen Yuan comes into his life.

Jiang Cheng is really going through it. He'll do nearly anything for Yanli--except, uh, stay in the goddamn inn with her when she's sick and the Wens are hunting them--and what makes her happiest is Wei Wuxian. He's brought them together, and so he's happy, even though he's excluded from their dynamic. This absolutely fucking kills me.

Here Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian are sweetly pledging to always keep the trio together and put each other first. Neither of them will keep this promise. 

Wei Wuxian will leave first, to take the Wens to the Burial Mounds. Jiang Yanli will leave second, staying in Lanling at Jin Zixuan's request instead of accompanying Jiang Cheng to retrieve Wei Wuxian. Jiang Cheng will be the last to let go.

(more after the cut)

Nie Huaisang comes literally running in, filled with joy at Wei Wuxian's return. When he goes to pat his shoulder Wei Wuxian flinches away.

I feel like something important is happening in this rapid sequence of glances and expressions between Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang. NHS is startled, and WWX realizes he's shown something about himself that he didn't want to show. He glances at Jiang Cheng and back at NHS before laughing and covering his slip with a squeeze of NHS’s hand.

NHS switches from shocked to cheerful just as quickly, helping with the coverup. It’s like they have a quick mutual agreement, rooted in their history of shared shenanigans, to not point out that something is wrong.

Meanwhile, Lan Wangji is wandering around the grounds, having feelings. At this point it's presumably been at least a couple of weeks since their breakup fight. 

He sees Wei Wuxian sitting contemplating his flute, and as he sees him he goes from sort of neutrally apprehensive to full on angry judging, complete with sword clenching. 

Part of this may be that his feelings are hurt over their fight, but the larger issue is his distress over Wei Wuxian's apparent heretical cultivation.  That, at any rate, is what's on his mind when he's selecting music, later in the episode, and when he's selecting flashbacks. 

Party Time

Later, the Nies host an excruciating party to celebrate Wei Wuxian's slaughter of Wen Chao return. Jiang Yanli is sharing a table with Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng is sharing a table with his crippling social anxiety. 

Everyone starts grilling Wei Wuxian about his sword, because that's suddenly all anybody cares about even though Jiang Yanli, Nie Huaisang, Meng Yao, and probably plenty of other people don't carry swords most of the time.

Wei Wuxian says "after the Wens caught me, Wen Zhuliu crushed my core, so I can't use my sword any more, too bad so sad, can we change the subject?" And everyone is very understanding and admires his resiliency. HA HA HA HA HA. Of course he doesn't opt for that simple lie, but instead mopes audibly without saying anything.

Nie Huasiang tries to change the subject by asking how he killed Wen Chao. Apparently "I had a sexy ghost mostly flay him" isn't good party chat, though, so neither Wei Wuxian nor Jiang Cheng opts to tell the story. 

Everyone lapses into awkward silence, all the more noticeable because there are no dancers, musicians, or entertainers of any kind at this event. OP has gone to audit-kickoff meetings that were more fun than cultivator banquets.

Moment of Clarity

While the awkwardness builds, we hear the sounds of the Song of Clarity. Lan Wangji is skipping the party, which is part of why Wei Wuxian is so mopey. But instead of sitting and stewing in his anger, Lan Wangji has shifted gears, and is starting to work on his "save Wei Wuxian's soul" plan.

This isn't the God-botherer version of soul saving, however. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian disagree about correct practice, but they both are still practitioners within the same spiritual system, and the majority of their beliefs are closely aligned.

Lan Wangji has powerful magic at his disposal, and now he's taking a step back from his plan of forcing persuading Wei Wuxian to give up heterodoxy, and instead he's preparing to use his magic to offset the consequences of Wei Wuxian's choice.

He still isn't ready to accept that choice, but he's working on it. This is a big moment for Lan Wangji's relationship with Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji is a deeply, deeply uncompromising person, as well as being super bossy, and he’s taking his first steps toward supporting Wei Wuxian’s free agency. 

Wei Wuxian leaves the party in the middle of Yao's toast, saying "I have to see you and your lover all over my tumblr dashboard but I am NOT going to listen to you talk!" He takes his wine to go roam around near Lan Wangji's quarters to pine and feel conflicted.  Lan Wangji has thoughtfully set up a projection scrim to catch his shadow and make the pining easier.

Jiang Cheng comes looking for Wei Wuxian, partly to reprimand him for rudeness and partly to see what the hell is wrong with him. Jiang Cheng is trying very hard to be pleasant. He's bad at it, but he's trying.

Wei Wuxian is trying to be unpleasant and he's pretty good at it. He won't say why he isn't using his sword. He’s obviously super fucking depressed about it, calling his former self childish for liking to spar, and only smiling once during the whole exchange.

He finally tells Jiang Cheng that he will always want to do the opposite of what Jiang Cheng tells him.  Jiang Cheng lets this go with an eyeroll.

(Point Break Quote Alert)

But actually this is a sign of trouble, right here in River City, with a capital T and that rhymes with P and that stands for abandoning the Jiang Clan. Wei Wuxian has just told Jiang Cheng he has no intention of obeying him; not just about the sword, but in general. That's no way for a disciple to talk. 

OP has nothing to say about this gif. OP watches gif over and over and over and over

Wei Wuxian ends the conversation by tapping Jiang Cheng's chest with his flute and then walking away. The (still nameless) flute has no problem with this - does it, like Subian, recognize Jiang Cheng as an extension of Wei Wuxian?

The next day, Wei Wuxian is chilling in his room, looking ungodly sexy in his bold slashed robe, holy frack. I mean, he is sex-on-toast at all times, but the cut of his post-burial-mounds combo is particularly heart-stopping when he decides to stick a knee or two out. 

He's meditating and flashing back to being in the burial mounds, where he was also meditating. I admire his ability to fractally meditate about meditating. 

Chenqing

He didn't put a sock on the doorknob, so Jiang Yanli comes in and startles him. He brandishes his flute at her before calming down. The flute definitely does not see her as an extension of Wei Wuxian, because when she touches it, it smokes and then knocks her out of the frame so fast it's comical.

Did they put her in a jerk vest for that shot?

Wei Wuxian hides the flute from her, freaked out by its behavior. She, however, is unfazed, and gives him the first & only affirmation he's gotten about his new cultivation path, and says the flute is "like Mother's Zidian."  She kind of walks him through the whole "first class spiritual tool" concept, beaming with approval and telling him he must name the flute.  

Jiang Yanli is hardcore Jiang Clan, seriously. Freedom and impossibility. You survived 3 months of mystery trauma and now you're all fucked up? We'll roll with it. You have a demon flute now? Rock on. You're going to use necromancy to beat the other clans in a group hunt? Gold star for you.

He names the flute Chenqing, which @hunxi-guilai​ translates and explains in depth over here.

Bichen

Lan Wangji has finished practicing the Song of Clarity, and regardless of whether it's had an effect on Wei Wuxian, he himself seems much calmer. 

As Wei Wuxian contemplates Chenqing, Lan Wangji contemplates Bichen and remembers Wei Wuxian's assertions about resentful energy way back in Gusu summer school. 

This time when he grips his sword, it's loosely, as if he's made some progress with his anger.

Soup

Jiang Yanli sits Wei Wuxian down for some soup, and talks to him about what's going on with him, saying he's changed. He insists he's fine and works very hard to be convincing.

She's not convinced but says she won't press him, and then abruptly shifts tone and works very hard to act like everything is fine. She leaves, taking a lot of soup with her, and Wei Wuxian remarks that it's unfair she is giving so much to Jiang Cheng. But of course, some of it is secretly for Jin Zixuan.

Everything isn't fine, as Wei Wuxian scream-meditates with resentful energy just rolling off of him. He's got some of the dark energy stored in the Yin sword in his bag of holding, but I get the impression that a lot of it is just stored in his body.

Club Ruohan

At some point in the episode we stop in to check on Wen Ruohan. He and his wind machine are mad that Wen Chao is dead. 

Meanwhile, his interpretive dances with the Yin iron now turn his puppets into...Klingons? Sure, why not. 

Literal Stand-Up Meeting 

Jiang Cheng needs Wei Wuxian at games night a meeting and comes running to Jiang Yanli to find him. He is freaking out and she tells him to chill. 

No matter what fuckery is going on in the world, Jiang Yanli is going to find herself a nice little outdoor table and she is going to sit her ass down and have some tea and civilized lady activity. Queen.

This shot of the meeting is composed so nicely. The blocking (placement of actors) in this scene encapsulates the familial dynamics, and I’ll talk about that as soon as I finish admiring Jiang Cheng’s proportions. 

Here we have four clans represented by four family pairs around the game war table. The Jin cousins, despite their differing personalities, are side by side, matchy-matchy, in lockstep. Jin Zixuan lets Jin Zixun do the talking for him, so maintains his own rep as a reasonable guy.  

The Nie brothers are even closer together, also in matching greys, Nie Huaisang giving all of his attention to his brother/clan leader. You can see his careful watching of his brother's temper...not fearful for himself, but fearful for Mingjue.

The Lan brothers have a growing distance between them; they are in different colors (which is pretty usual for them), and Lan Wangji is standing well away from his brother and the rest of the group. Partly this is his personality, but it's also symbolic of his growing distance from his brother and other proper cultivators. He's carrying WWX-related secrets, and he's wrestling with what he's learned.  

While Nie Huaisang is looking at Mingjue, Lan Xichen is turning around to see what's up with his own volatile sibling.

Lastly you have Jiang Cheng, alone in the room, with his shidi nowhere to be found, and seriously feeling the heat because of his isolation. 

He's alone in his purple, but the color value (lightness/darkness) of his robes exactly matches Xichen's. 

And Xichen, bless him, makes a point of speaking to him respectfully as a fellow clan leader, gives him a path out of the "where is your brother" conversation, and is just generally his kind and helpful self with Jiang Cheng.

Next: Awkwardness Increases!

[legendaryoikawa]

ares / suna rintarou / masterlist

pairing: suna x female reader

word count: 2k

synopsis: your stalker must’ve adore you so so much, he intends to kill for you.

quote:  “If you're that obsessed with someone, why would you kill her? Humans are full of contradictions.” - Ai Yazawa

genre: stalker!au, caters mature themes such as manipulation, voyeurism, public masturbation, murder, violence coercion, borderline obsession. 

note: i do not condone these behavior in real life. this is just a work of fiction. 

minors dni

taglist: @boosyboo9206 @dokisaki (can’t tag) @godjo@flavostella02 @heykoutaro (can’t tag) @aleacarnin@licitix@katsukis-sad-angel@k-sakura @dokisuki (can’t tag) @black-water-78​@throughtheinterstices​ @iloverarepares @newfriendjen @aizawaslovebot @ratatouille407​ @midnightartist​ @ya-kkun​ @daicrie​ @mochipk​ @kanesshiiweeb​ @134340-cm​ @svgafresh​ @annexerca​ @neavil​ @paigypol (can’t tag) @aggressivelyshoutsokay​ thank you for the love and support!

BE PART OF MY TAGLIST HERE

Truly an ace of all fools. 

Ares, the god of war. As Homer called him, murderous, bloodstained, the incarnate curse of mortals.

Name it, Suna knows every possible if not, unique ways to kill. He prefers the crowbar as it’s efficient and easy enough to send a person to their graves. For his very own pleasure. It fuels him especially when he sees those eyes that were once full of life drown down to darkness of death. 

Suna is known as one of the notorious lads at school. He never fails to leave an astonished look to every person he has passed by at school. People are stunned whenever he walks down the hallway with his school shirt unbuttoned and crumpled. His overall appearance is unruly with the noticeable scars that lingered on his face like ches. His disheveled jet black hair. Eyes that bore nothing but darkness. Chains dangling from each of his ears. His aura that is explainable and unassailable that could even strike the thunderbolt of the great god Zeus. 

Suna is handsome. He looks like bad news. Wild.

He wielded an enormous influence among girls. Some swoon at the mere sight of him; others even resorted to some chase yet ended up a crying mess. Boys even fall for his charms, but one sharp glance is enough to wave them off like flies. 

However, you on the other hand are not fazed by him nor his silhouette. Which made him to be drained by a pure soul like you. 

Suna is so private and closed like an abandoned establishment and that could be the sole reason why people want to pry into his life. He had everyone controlled on the palm of his hand but he can’t seem to play with you like he initially plans to. 

Suna has the patience of a boar. He shows signs of violence that it’s alarming. But people seem to be in love at his bad boy facade, no one dares to report him.

 He is a living contradiction. Suna is a ride, a deadly one.

He comes to school with his boisterous friends that look exactly like how he presents himself. You can always hear their uproarious banters about their lives, endless wolf-whistling. They are the group of boys you wouldn’t want to mess with. Especially the mysterious Suna. 

You made a promise to get the shit out of the tracks that had traces of the boisterous boy that is  Suna. 

Not just the boys that have brought out the never ending fiasco circulating around your highschool. There have been a high number of mysterious disappearances of students that you may have never heard of or slightly familiar to you that you cannot recall. Their skulls are cracked open with a brute force or a bullet to the head. Some are strangled, some are mutilated, and what makes it terrifying is that most of the victims are leading down to you.

You can still remember how Kang Hana spent her afternoon with you in the library for a philosophy project. You admit it yourself that Hana isn’t the preferable company. She’s too nosy, noisy and quite violent towards you as she keeps on hitting you on the arm whenever you spill something stupid. Nevertheless, you held no grudge towards the girl. And you were really stunned at the news of her sudden death. 

Oh, you didn’t know someone was watching from the windows of the library outside. Irritability bubbles inside his body like a brook. He allows no one to go near you, let alone to hit you like a ragged doll. He always had a thing for you, he didn’t know when it started but by the way you looked at him like you are almost something to be disregarded. He is drawn to you like a moth to the flame.

It is always in Suna’s system. His mind is a bully, gushing him to do things that would make him thrilled, something that could awaken his fantasies. 

He wants to kill. And he did. 

He stood in all his glory, wearing his uninterested look while scrutinizing the other students walking along the hall. There at the lockers he spots Kang Hana awkwardly fumbling with the entangled bag straps. 

His dark eyes bore into Hana’s figure. Eyeing her from head to toe. At this moment he is thinking of what he can possibly do with those limbs. Break it? Smash it? Mutilate it like how they do in the slaughterhouse? Suna approaches her figure, his switchblade ready in his windbreaker’s pockets. 

He breaths, trying to muster his oh-so-charming smile. “Hey.”

Hana raises up her gaze and she is surprised that the notorious Suna is approaching her. Only if she knew his real intentions. “Oh my god. Hey.”

Suna is charming. Quite egocentric. It doesn’t take him long to persuade someone to sp with him or to go out on a date with him. If there is something you should be afraid about Suna, it is his ability to deceive people without them knowing his real motives. He has a calm demeanor but sometimes his arrogance fuels him to be so wild-driven. 

He leads Hana to the abandoned establishment at the rundown part of the town. He made sure to give her a signal to meet him outside where no witnesses could see them. It’s always a step when considering crime, get rid of witnesses. 

At this moment, Hana starts to get excited because she has foreseen what could happen. For her it’s sex. For him, it’s blood. Suna draws his switchblade near her carotid artery. She widens her eyes but laughter resonates in the eerie place. 

She purrs. “I am a kinky person but I can try knife play.”

Suna doesn’t play. He draws the knife deeper to her neck until she realizes he is not joking at all. Kang Hana’s heart made a beeline for her throat and tried to make a f for her life but Suna had his strong hand gripping her hair. 

She struggles but after every move she dares, the knife further penetrates her neck. Beads of sweat are dropping down to her cheeks. A hot sticky liquid from where the knife is trickling down her neck, dampening her collarbones down to her bra. She cries loud. “What do you want?!”

Suna smirks. He misses the familiar scent of blood flooding in his nostrils. “Your life.” 

Her eyes widened in pure horror as the charming prince transformed quickly as a ruthless psychopath in just the blink of her eye. Hana tries to fight against his hold once again but Suna wants to finish off and not to take care of a wailing woman. 

He repeatedly lash out the knife through her neck. The impact of his pounds set out her blood gushing out, splashing his pale cheeks. His right hand is dripping with her hot blood. Suna’s chest rose as his breathing became ragged but overall he felt so alive and content. He stares at Hana’s figure sprawled on the floor bathing with the pool of her own blood. Suna felt so driven with just crimson clouding his vision. He runs his tongue on the rows of his pearly teeth, a sinister smile tugging the corners of his lips. He did it for you. 

The following days have been hell for you. No, you weren’t killed but you faced a frightening number of police interrogations for the victims were always drawing down to you. Like Hana, you were the last person she was with before her neck was slashed out like a cow in the slaughterhouse. The pulse of a blue and red strobe from the police mace being parked in the circular driveway. You stare at the officer's badge, his holstered Glock. The night air settles the eerie night, still, gauzy full of humidity. 

The interview lasts about a good hour but you are deemed innocent as Hana’s whereabouts where the crime took place didn’t match your activity. Her clothes are missing on the spot but the investigators found it drenched in this liquid they believed was an oxygen producing detergent didn’t match. Since the laboratory personnel couldn’t get any fingerprints from her body, it has been declared useless for the crime.

It has been weeks since you find yourself able to breathe again but it didn’t last long when you were bombarded with unknown and creepy messages that you couldn’t withstand at all. 

I know you. From everything you do, I know it all. 

You belong to me, your full name. 

I find it romantic to see how excited you look whenever I send these messages. Shall I start sending my pictures as well? Or the throne I made for you?

From morning you go to your mother’s flower shop to gather primrose to deliver to your grandfather that lives in the twenty second street downtown. 

Your favorite thing to do is to draw, my sweet. I am right, am I? I’m always right. 

I saw you talk to that small loser from class D. Now don’t ever talk to him again or you will see his head delivered right at your doorstep. I love you and I’m being the nice guy here. 

Do you perhaps like the idea of your friend's limbs personally delivered to you? Your pick. 

I am always watching you, your name.

Oh, you had a museum date with your friends? Don’t go, I am at your grandmother’s restaurant, she serves the ultimate broth soup. Too bad I can stop her from serving these delicacies. 

I know deep down, you love me too. Don’t you ever try to date behind my back without telling me. I did kill for you. 

Your parents aren’t home. Do you want me to visit?

So much love for you. Your long secret admirer :) 

I love you. I will kill for you. 

He isn’t joking. He knows everything about you. All the meticulous details no one knows but your family. Whenever you receive a message from him, your heart would pound against your rib cage. It terrifies you to the core that he exactly knows the precise details of your whereabouts.

 You immediately reported this matter to the police, to your parents but it didn’t settle the problem. The number isn’t traceable. They keep on insisting that the number used is from an unregistered sim. You fear for your life, your personal space, everything. 

You weren’t just experiencing the never ending terror of your stalker’s messages. But some of your things are now starting to disappear, from your bracelets, your baby pictures now, now, your white lacy underwear. 

You are blissfully unaware of the pair of eyes that follows every movement as you exit the school grounds. He looks down on his hand, gripping his favorite underwear of you. He had a picture when you wore the garment, and it was his favorite among all. 

He makes his way to his heavily tinted car, a smile never leaving Suna's face as he clutches the garment tightly on his hands. His soulless eyes stared back at him the moment he stared at the rear view mirror. And drives to the nearest convenience store. 

He keeps on fantasizing about you. The way your name rolls out of his tongue while jerking out never fails to send himself to ecstasy. He can’t wait to meet you, but one thing he is sure of, he will be watching you tonight. 

Suna is always a step ahead of his plans. He is meticulous and calculative. His plans never backfire for he knew what methods to use. For the days he has been killing he already knows how to get rid of evidence that could lead to him.  The boy’s got a sharp tongue as well, a serpent’s, he uses lies to cover up the real  Suna that hides behind the charming facade he puts front. 

He wore black. Black that is a mystery. Eerie. He wears a black bucket hat that covers his beautiful features that compliments his youth. Despite the dusk ebbing its way, his moles are always as alive as the constellation. He secures his mask tighter on both ears, as appealing as it sounds, he cannot show his face to you, just not yet. He had a thing to do, he had something to accomplish.

“Just in time” he breathed into the shadows. His eyes follow your figure marching down the dim lit streets. A smirk paints his lips as you still try to swat everything and thinking to yourself everything is still normal. But no, not until he is dead. He could have easily needle out your background from Kita but you were his and it gives him satisfaction whenever he discovers something about you. Things that aren’t open for others but just for him. 

He immediately hid behind a large tree, once you entered your home. He makes sure to secure a great and measurable distance from him to you, not so far yet so near. He clenches his fist, the idea of watching you undress from your windows sends him a big wave of pleasure. 

He begins to scramble up trying to get a hold of the strongest branch his forearm could manage. Some twigs tried to interrupt him midway but nothing can stop a hungry predator from lurking on his prey. He finds the perfect spot just parallel to your window.

“Fuck” he hiss as he felt his phone vibrate from his pocket. “What it is now  fucking Atsumu?”

“Lover boy, I forgot to place your camera in your bag, bye.” 

The camera is not his top most concern. He has his phone that is full of you. 

You were humming quietly. He follows your hands, removing your school blouse that left the boy’s mouth agape. His cock immediately hardens at the sight, and he cannot risk himself to jerk while on the tree. He scrambles immediately, carelessly fishing out for his phone to take a picture of you naked. 

Suna is always not satisfied with the bare minimum. He records you, doing your private thing in your room. He is biting hard on his lips, his erection sticking out painfully against his pants. He has to endure much longer till you have finished your routine applying lotion to your shiny long legs. Those legs that he can’t wait to touch. 

Suna left the place shortly. He’s astounded. You drive him wild and wild he is. You fuel the monster more. 

[theliterateape]

American Shithole #4 — What Treasures Await Within The Failure Box?

By Eric Wilson

All eyes may be on the Rob Porter debacle this week (or now the school shooting in Florida), but buried deep within the latest budget proposal is another hatchet job on our country’s defenseless and beleaguered poor. This administration is looking to slash 129 billion dollars in funding for the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP), in order to support tax cuts for the filthy rich. In a now struggling and continuous effort to one-up themselves, next week Trump conservatives, for no apparent reason, plan to throw one random adorable deaf child off a cliff.

What’s really going on here — besides the wholesale redistribution of value from the needy to the ruling class — is the old conservative classic, the shaming of the poor. Trump and Co. want to bring the shame back to the safety net programs that they can’t outright kill — in this case, by cutting assistance in half, taking power away from the individual, and replacing the ease and independence afforded by the EBT card, with what they call “America’s Harvest Box.”

I’ll give evil republicans one thing, they sure know how to name the beast. Hell, Citizens United sounds more like a well-meaning U2 album, than the death to democracy it represents. This latest proposal is no different. Slice this turd pizza any way you like, this reverse wealth redistribution is a failure box, born of cruelty, dressed in shame and bound by greed. We can expect nothing less from an administration that so embodies failure as its defining characteristic.

"Under the proposal, households receiving $90 or more per month in SNAP benefits will receive a portion of their benefits in the form of a USDA Foods package, which would include items such as shelf-stable milk, ready to eat cereals, pasta, peanut butter, beans and canned fruit, vegetables, and canned meat, poultry or fish," the budget reads.

I can hear the breakfast banter already:

“Mom, can I have more shelf-stable milk?”

“Now Timmy, you know you have already had your governmentally allotted granules of dehydrated, dairy product! You know the billionaire class needs every cent the rest of us can spare, for really important reasons, like they want it. Now help your sister open the meat.

“Aww, mom! But I need strength in my bones for the Trump Parade!

Well, now that the Trump Parade is every second Thursday of the month, I guess you’re right, son!”

Ugh. Billionaires clawing at the bones of the disenfranchised, scraping for specks of flesh along the fracture lines. Vampiric lords of the undead, sucking the last of the marrow out of a deeply-flawed economic construct that’s now collapsing under the weight of its own coddled indifference.  

Also, the “portion” of redistributed benefits mentioned above, in most cases will amount to more than half the SNAP allowance, but let’s not quibble over numbers — when it’s the intent of the proposal that is of most concern.

The intent is to throw a monkey wrench into a fragile safety-net policy, strip it of value once it is effectively destabilized, and reintroduce public shame to an already stigmatized process — the last straight up out of spite. There will be no delivery; it’s not even funded in the proposal. If this proposal were to somehow be implemented, poor Americans will be forced to stand in line outside of some public facility every month, where their value will be scrutinized, and their integrity questioned — just so they can pick up a fucking box of shame.     

So prepare to tighten your belts, my fellow impoverished Americans. Even with the recent tax breaks for the obscenely wealthy, apparently billionaire yachts aren’t going to buy themselves. Hell hath no fury like a plutocrat denied their eleventeenth floating water penis. Besides, you know who really has it all too easy in America?

Hungry children.

Hungry children who apparently haven’t yet experienced enough soul-crushing shame in their lives, according to republicans. Sure, gone are the days of the soup lines and the embarrassment of government food stamps at the checkout line, but this administration is going to bring the humiliation of failure back!

In the form of a box — filled with a few dollars’ worth of bulk pasta and broken promises.

American Shithole was able to secure a few quotes from various proponents of America’s Failure Box.

“What we do is propose that for folks who are on food stamps, part — not all, part — of their benefits come in the actual sort of, and I don't want to steal somebody's copyright, but a Blue Apron-type program where you actually receive the food instead of receive the cash,” Office of Management and budget director Mick Mulvaney said.

“USDA America’s Harvest Box is a bold, innovative approach to providing nutritious food to people who need assistance feeding themselves and their families — and all of it is home grown by American farmers and producers," Agriculture Secretary Sonny Perdue said in a statement. "It maintains the same level of food value as SNAP participants currently receive, provides states flexibility in administering the program, and is responsible to the taxpayers.”

“What we also want to do,” Mulvaney continued, “is provide an avenue for regular folks, like me and you, to better be able to ridicule recipients of government assistance, the way we used to be able to do — that’s where the box comes in.”

“We’ve been floating around the idea of fluorescent paint for the boxes,” Perdue continued, “in an effort to draw attention to Americans that just can’t seem to take responsibility for themselves.”

“And just in case neighbors can’t identify citizens requiring scorn by the brightly painted boxes,” Mulvaney assured reporters, “we have introduced legislation that requires SNAP beneficiaries to paint their houses in the same colors as the boxes to avoid public confusion as to who to discriminate against.”

Don’t put anything past this administration. Nothing is truly satirical; nothing is truly farcical these days.

So, what will the contents of this failure box really look like, I wonder? I mean, beyond the delicious, shelf-stable, dehydrated milk — which I imagine to be the equivalent of a chalky Tang to the freshly-squeezed orange juice of the world. Some of us remember Tang.

Not to be left out of the loop, our crack investigative team has uncovered these items to be featured in America’s Failure Box — a food crisis solution for hungry Americans put forth by generous billionaires.

1.      A single caviar egg. (enjoy the decadence!)

2.      Table scraps from the 2018 Bilderberg Group retreat.

3.      Soylent Orange: orange-flavored presidential all-purpose protein paste. (coming soon!)

4.      Mystery Sack! ™

5.      Fun house mirror sectional for when you wish to look full.

6.      Mystery Sack Zero! ™

7.      Edible 8" x 10" glossies of Trump Steaks.

8.      Paula Dean recipes for Failure Box packaging materials.

These days, as with all machinations of this presidency, I am no longer surprised by brazen, naked greed. I am surprised at how much of it we are willing to suffer through, that is indeed surprising.

Anyway, I’m not the only detractor as you might imagine, according to a Business Insider report, the Food Research and Action Center, a nonprofit working to end hunger in the US, blasted the proposal, along with many, many other agencies following suit.

The new boxes will be "a Rube-Goldberg designed system of commodity distribution via food boxes that will be administratively costly, inefficient, stigmatizing, and prone to failure, and that will return the country to Depression-era anti-hunger approaches," said the group in a statement.

A thought that I imagine would give the Koch brothers wicked, east coast, libertarian boners.

The question most often on my mind again, is how much of this we’re going to take? Because these dirty bastards aren’t going to stop until there is nothing left to steal.