#sometimes poverty or other things factor in

[puddingvalkyrie]

Learning another language is another one!

[fatuismooches]

i don't know if this is how i request so i apologise if i get anything wrong!

could you please do the childhood crush with capitano but instead of capitano, it's pantalone? it's okay if you don't wish to do this!

(p.s. this is my first time requesting, pls go easy on me)

♡ 𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞’𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 ♡

synopsis: When you were a child, you decided to befriend an orphan who always seemed to be by himself. He would not forget this act of kindness.

includes: pantalone w/ gn! reader

notes: Of course, this was quite fun to write! I hope you all enjoy it. (It gets very fluffy towards the end <3.)

Sneznhaya was one of the worst nations to be poor in, you decided from an early age. You had to have some kind of thick jacket to survive even the warmest days (which was still borderline in the negatives) otherwise you would die so quickly from frostbite. You had to have some kind of fireplace in your house and also a stable firewood source otherwise you’d freeze to death too. You had to be smart about preserving and salting your food because of the cold, and much more difficult tasks that would be easy to do in other nations. All of these factors were part of the reason why orphans did not last very long, unfortunately (unless you were pulled into the House of Hearth… would that be a blessing or curse?)

Even though you were dirt poor, you were still more fortunate than a lot of people in poverty. You had a house, albeit a small one. You had a bed, though it felt like a stone-cold rock most of the time. You had parents who cherished you, although sometimes you did not see them for the whole day since they worked hard so you could go to school instead, even though you should have been working to bring income in. Of course, you kept all of your complaints to yourself. You were far better off than most kids.

The first time you met the boy was on your way home from school. You had exited the raggedy building when you came across a boy with rather well-kept hair. Usually, the children around the slums were untidy and uncaring about their appearance. Yet his looked fine, at least better than average around here. But what drew you in was his brilliant purple eyes. You had never met anyone with that eye color. You didn’t realize you were staring at him until you noticed his eyes were on you. Your words died in your throat of embarrassment, so you quickly nodded your head at him and speedily walked away.

You hoped that you wouldn’t see the boy again, because you didn’t think you’d be able to look him in the eye again. You were the kind of person who cringed at even the slightest dumb thing you did a long time ago and knocked your head against the wall thinking about it. But, it seemed that the Tsaritsa did not answer your prayers because you saw the same boy again the next day. And the next day. And for the entire week. And soon, you realized that his eyes were always trained in the same direction - the school. You connected the dots quickly, mentally prepared yourself for conversation, and strode up to him.

The boy immediately noticed you as you pressed your back against the wall, leaving a bit of distance between the two of you. You didn’t want to invade his personal space.

“So, I’ve seen you here every day. How come?”

Silence.

“Not much of a talker, are you?”

Silence.

“You want to go to school, don’t you?”

“...!”

The boy’s breath hitched for a second and you knew you were right. He turned his gaze from you and looked back at the building, where children were being dismissed. You didn’t need to ask why. It was obvious that he had to work instead to survive. The two of you stood in silence when, all of a sudden, you came up with a genius idea.

“How about I teach you instead?”

The offer had the boy’s neck snapping back to you. “What?”

“Yeah! After school ends, you can come to my house, and I’ll teach you what I learn, and other stuff too. It’ll be like real school, minus the yelling and the crowds and the other annoying things!” The idea seemed better and better the more you spoke. 

He raised his eyebrows in surprise but a look of caution quickly overtook his face, purple eyes conveying a look of distrust.  “What do you want?”

“What do you mean?”

“What’s your motive? Surely you don’t think I’m that naive to believe you.”

You were taken aback. “I-I mean… I don’t really know what to say. I’m just a kid, I don’t really know what ulterior motive I would have. Does wanting to become friends with you count as one? You really look like you want to learn, so I just wanna help you,” you said plainly with a hint of confusion in your voice.

For the second time that day, the boy was taken aback, because he could see that you were being genuine and he couldn’t understand why. You were being kind from the bottom of your heart, and he couldn’t comprehend why you would do this for a stranger.

You tried to ignore the piercing look the boy who was only your age managed to give you. “So can I assume you’re taking the offer? I’m [Name] by the way!”

The boy uttered his real name, and everything began from there.

Every day you invited your newfound friend into your house. Your parents were never home until late, so it was easy to do so. And so began the lessons of you teaching him everything you knew and learned in school. You taught him how to curve the letters of the alphabet correctly. You helped him to learn to read your favorite children’s books. You told him what you remembered of your teacher’s boring rambling about Snezhnaya’s history and that hey, oxygen came from trees! (He knew that, the boy said. He wasn’t that dumb. You pouted.) But the thing he was best at was math. As soon as you taught him the basics, he was speeding through the questions faster than you.

You watched in amazement as he whizzed through the questions without even needing to use his fingers to add (which you still did sometimes, embarrassingly enough.) He was completely focused on it, writing his answers in handwriting that got better every passing day. And soon enough, he handed you his answers to check. It started to become less of a surprise when he got all of them right on his first try, as you compared his work with the one from your homework. 

“You got all of them right again!” you cheered as you shook his shoulders in excitement. “Haha, you’re better than me at this point. I can’t do mental math as well as you can.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you. Thank you.” If there was one thing you knew about your friend, was that he was a good sweet talker. You’d seen him talk his way out of situations that you would surely die in, and also compliment you like it was nothing.

“At this point, you can become an economics! No, wait… I think it’s called an economist? Or an accountant? Something to do with numbers and counting!”

Something twinkled in his eyes. “Do you really think that?”

“Mhm! You’re the smartest person I know. You adapt to everything so quickly. It took me a long time to get these concepts down yet you did it easily.”

The boy did not say anything but his shoulders relaxed under your touch, and then he spoke. “I’m going to become rich.”

“You are?” you asked, hopping onto the chair next to him. Everyone, regardless of anything, has dreamed of becoming rich. But the way he said it with such firmness had you drawn in.

“Money is the lifeblood of this world. No one can survive without it,” the hardened and steely look in his eyes and voice made you stiffen for a second. “Even the Gods desire to let it flow between their fingers.” 

You looked at him for a few seconds before grabbing his cold hand and squeezing it. “I believe in you,” you declared resolutely. Your friend’s harsh look dissipated and a smile came onto his face. You loved it when he smiled. “Just remember me when you’re rich. Share a bit with me, hm?” you laughed.

But the boy did not laugh at what you meant to be a joke. “I will,” he said firmly. “I’ll give you as much as you want and more.”

Since then, you spent more and more time with him, even outside the regular tutoring sessions. Once you had opened yourself up to him, he had responded somewhat in kind. He liked to talk about things he read in the paper after you taught him to read. Out on the streets, he would ask you about words he saw on shop windows’ he didn’t know yet. Your favorite activity was when you’d give him something to read out loud to you, enjoying how his stumbling grew from frequent to occasional. But when it came to other topics he kept his mouth thin and shut. You never commented on it, but you could see he didn’t have a good relationship with anyone else. It seemed that he held some kind of animosity toward a good chunk of people. Especially the upper class, even some of the kids as you noticed that some of them weren’t very nice to him. Even the Gods themselves weren’t spared from this.

You didn’t know what kind of childhood he had, and you didn’t pry. It wasn’t your business, and furthermore, you wanted him to remember the happier memories he made with you instead. You showed him how to build snowmen and snow angels. You once threw a snowball at his hair and immediately regretted it as he launched a tickle attack back at you. The orphan was your best friend and you soon realized that you had a crush on him. You would lie in bed, rolling over as you thought about the kind of wedding you’d have him with. You would have kids and then the two of you would soon be grandparents and then the house would be so much more lively and fun and- you smushed your face between your pillow. Enough of that! You first had to make sure both of you survived this hellish place to even make it to adulthood.

It got to the point where you wanted to share some of your meager rations with him too. He was always hungry, and you were too but you wanted to help him out as much as you could. You would sneak a good portion of your bread or anything that wasn’t messy under the kitchen table, slip it into your sleeve quickly so your parents didn’t know. You gobbled down your sparse dinner in seconds, not wanting to leave your friend standing outside in one spot for too long. You went into your room and quickly locked the door, glancing at the window near your bed. You pulled the curtains to the side, and there he was! Opening your window always warranted a flurry of snow flying into your face but seeing his face light up was worth it.

Years passed, and the two of you were older, almost adults. You had left school since the only available schooling in the area was for younger kids only, and now worked in a miserable job like most people. But you always made sure to try and visit your long-time friend, who seemed to be busier and busier these days. You had a feeling he was up to something, whether it was good or bad, legal or illegal, but you didn’t pry. His absence had begun to cause you to seek out other company, for it was not good for one to be left alone in their thoughts in this kind of situation. 

Who was your company? The neighborhood kids, of course. They reminded you of when you were younger, even though it was just a few years ago. They always gathered around you when they had time off from their barely paid labor, and you made sure to teach them the same things you taught your crush a few years ago. But you soon learned, it was rather hard to do that when they were so exhausted from working. Tiny hands were already calloused from the back-backing jobs and they were asleep in an instant afterward.

So you did what you could. Having a couple of hours of rest made a big difference to growing bodies, you reminded the kids. You took their shifts on different days and at different times, making sure you wore as many layers as possible so you wouldn’t be caught. The employers wouldn’t take much notice anyway. They didn’t care who did it as long as the work was done. The only thing you did not anticipate was your long-time crush finding you. 

“[Name]?” The callout of your name made your heart freeze. “Don’t worry, it’s just me.” You then recognized the voice as your childhood friend. Turning around, you pulled down the hood and uttered your friend’s name, which you cherished dearly.

“I was looking for you, and I find you here, working in someone else’s place. What are you doing?” The boy’s voice was hushed, laced with a hint of something else underneath. Worry. Concern. Distress. What if you get sick? Get hurt? Get caught?

“Look… I did not mean to worry you. I just, it hurts me to see the little ones spending so much time working. I just want to help them.”

The boy had known you for many years, yet neither his mind could ever comprehend why you were so kind to others. It never benefitted you, only served as extra weight and a burden on your shoulders. “But you already have long shifts to work. Your body can’t handle this…”

“Hey, who was the one who managed to run away with you all those times? I’m pretty strong! Furthermore, as long as I keep the hoodie up, they won’t recognize the difference. Those people don’t care as long as the work gets done. They’re just little kids, you know. Just like we were. Some of them haven’t even learned proper Snezhnayan yet, but they’re out here slaving away and working to the point of exhaustion. I just… can’t. If I can help them keep even a fraction of a childhood intact, I will.”

The boy’s heart was moved by your kindness innumerable times. “But, aren’t you just a kid as well?”

“I am,” you agreed. “But I’m still an older one. Just a bit more until we’re adults, you know. I’ve already had my time. I’d rather help the others now. Besides, it builds stamina and work ethic,” you laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

Your friend didn’t say anything. There was nothing he could really say, after all. This was just how life was like. But it was days like these where he remembered the promise he made to himself and you - neither of you would have to deal with this ever again, soon.

The boy moved to help you, which surprised you. “You don’t have to, you know. I’m sure you’re busy with other things.”

He shook his head. “I’ve been wanting to spend time with you for a while. I’ve missed you.” You blushed and nervously laughed at his straightforwardness. He could either pretend to be oblivious to your intentions, trying to make you say what you wanted out loud. Or just be so blunt that it caught you off guard.

“Heh, I’ve missed you too. You know, I have a good story for you…”

Since then, your friend had popped up more and more frequently, making your lovesick heart pound. Even if you had nothing left to talk about, you made something up, if only to keep him next to you for a few more minutes. You think he knew what you were doing, but he didn’t comment. You loved him for not exposing you like that. Despite the circumstances of your life not being very great, you always felt great around him. Until one day, you woke up with a splitting headache. Odd, but not unbelievable. You must have pushed yourself too hard yesterday. Your body feels so, so cold, but you have to go… have to go to work, and see your friend. You inched yourself to the edge of the bed, but you did not make it to the end.

You woke up to the hazy sight of your parents and a man. Presumably a doctor, considering how awful you feel right now and his white lab coat.

“It seems your child has… they must have stayed out in the cold too much… overworked… the medicine is quite expensive though, at least… that’s the minimum though…” the words were blurred together for you. Despite your fuzzy mind, you already got the gist of what was going on by the pain-stricken look on your parent's faces. They couldn’t afford that. You went back to sleep.

The next time you were woken up by the voice of the one who held most dear. You didn’t open your eyes, but you knew he was there, from his comforting voice as he stroked your arm. “I told you… overdo it… but that’s just how you are… too kind… make sure… better… love…” Your consciousness drifted away again.

The next few days you did not remember well, until your parents barged into the room with tears in their eyes, holding some sort of package. A sip of water and something fell down your throat, and you were soon asleep again.

You woke up the next day, feeling significantly better than before. Your parents were moved to tears, and they quickly recounted what had happened. Someone knocked on the door, and when they opened it, there was nothing but a package and a note left there. Inside was the medicine you needed, yet they did not know who placed it there. But you already knew the only person who’d do that for you.

You recognized the handwriting on the note as your friend’s. It was almost laughable. When you were first teaching him, he could barely form the letters properly, but he had practiced far more than you ever did, resulting in the pretty curves of words on a surprisingly strong piece of paper. You idly wondered how he managed to get it.

This medicine will make you better. Don’t worry about how I got it.

I have decided to leave this place for a while and pursue the dream I told you about. At first, despite my resolution, I was not sure how to go about it. But after seeing the things that happen to you, to a good person, I made up my mind to attain what I desire.

I would like to write more, but I’m afraid I do not have the time right now. But, do not worry. I will come back for you.

Please don’t push yourself too hard until then. I promise, soon you will not have to suffer any longer. Until then, thank you for believing in me.

The note ended there.

Even though your mind was still fuzzy from the fever, the contents of the letter quickly snapped you out of a stupefied daze. He left? Just like that? Of course, you weren’t mad at him for leaving. After all, you encouraged him to go for it, to at least try so that he wouldn’t meet the same fate as most people who lived in the slums did. But you didn’t even get to say goodbye. No hug or anything. No time to tell him how you felt. The reality of that made your heart sink.

You weren’t able to leave bed for a few days but as soon as you felt better again you roamed the streets, looking for the familiar tufts of black hair. You trudged through the thick snow, checking all possible spots he could be in, but to no avail. He was gone. It was as if he never existed too - the only thing you had to remember him by was this note. You thought about him every day, hoped for his success in his endeavors, and a small part of you hoped he thought about you too.

When you became of age, you were approached with an offer from the Northland Bank. You’re completely baffled at first, and a bit scared. Mostly Fatui members worked there, and why would they approach a low-class citizen like yourself too?  But the offer was too tempting, the money calling your name and empty stomach more than ever. Your position was one of the lowest, simply making sure you had a perfect customer service smile as you directed customers where to go for their issues, but it paid damn well compared to the jobs in the slums. You worked hard and humbly, unaware your job was pulled behind the scenes by a… certain rising Fatui member.

A few years went by, and your position only went up. You weren’t really sure why when there were much more qualified Fatui workers than you but you gratefully accepted it. You had gotten used to the daily routine of greeting customers and helping them with their accounts. A while ago, you remember the bank being in a slight uproar over something.

“What’s all the commotion about?” you questioned. The bank was usually a quiet place.

“Northland Bank is now under the control of someone new! A new Harbinger has control of all the banks now!”

“Oh really? I didn’t expect that.”

“No, no, no - it’s not just that. You need to look at the picture of him. He’s jaw-dropping!!” your co-worker squealed as they shoved the newspaper into your face. You chuckled and dropped your eyes to the paper, but your smile immediately disappeared, and your face contorted into one of disbelief at who you saw. You snatched the paper out of their hands and practically pressed it to your face.

It couldn’t be. But the hair, the way his lips curved, the flutter of his eyelashes when he smiled. It was way too similar. You skimmed the article for more information. Pantalone, the new ninth Harbinger, was now the wealthiest among them… in charge of Snezhnaya’s economy and money supply… ambitious and promising.

You shakily put down the paper. The one in the papers was your childhood friend. So this was where he was all these years? Working for the Fatui? He’d been in the same nation the whole time and you didn’t know. But, that was a relief at the same time. At least he wasn’t somewhere far away.

“You looked like you’ve seen a ghost,” your co-worker chuckled. “Did his beauty stun you that much?”

You nervously chuckled and nodded in agreement, trying to organize your thoughts. Your childhood friend had achieved the dream he told you about so long ago. He didn’t just become rich, but a Harbinger at that, one of the most powerful positions in Snezhnaya and the world - he became Pantalone. And furthermore… he had grown up to be such a handsome, classy man. Your heart raced just thinking about him, as all the childhood memories rushed to your head. Did he remember you? No, no, that was countless years ago. He had the most luxurious life one could ever imagine. No way he would remember the random friend he made that long ago.

But that was okay, you thought as prepared to start working again. You were okay with burying these feelings again. You would be happy seeing him from afar, happy that he was living the life he deserved.

A year or two had passed since Pantalone was officially inducted as a Harbinger. Even though you decided you would be happy observing him from afar, it didn’t stop you from cutting out the articles of every newspaper Pantalone was in. You couldn’t help it - it had been so long. When the Harbingers were gathered in Snezhnaya, you’d brave the crowds and peer around for him. Some days you did not manage to see him. Your view was mostly obstructed by the cheering citizens, but one day, you were able to see him up close. It took your breath away. He was ethereal… You had to beeline it out of there before you started to get too emotional. The only thing you had yet to be aware of was that the ninth Harbinger himself saw you. Yes, he had always been keeping a close eye on you, staying his distance only for your safety. But that was soon to change.

It was another normal day at Northland Bank. The only noteworthy thing was that someone important was set to visit soon, so everyone was expected to be on their best behavior. It wasn’t anything new though - many people wanted to see the richest bank in Teyvat.

“[Name], could you go retrieve the documents of this client for me, please? Their name is…” your co-worker called. You nodded, after all, you had to return some files to the room as well. You got up, hands full, and headed to the room when your co-worker called for you again. 

You turned around to face her and kept walking backward, ready to listen to her request when suddenly her face turned very pale. It looked like she was mouthing something to you and making an ‘X’ with her arms. Of course, you were confused by this gesture, so you turned back around to see what was wrong. But your vision was blocked by a black wall, one that had bits of blue and silver embroidering it, and before you could stop your legs from moving, you walked smack right into it.

“Watch it, dear,” a pair of hands reached out to steady your shoulders. “Make sure to watch where you’re going, hm?”

Your heart felt like it was stuck in your throat. That sleek voice was all too familiar, and the feeling of the bands of bejeweled rings through the gloves was a tell-tale sign of who it was. The visitor to the bank today was the Ninth Harbinger, Pantalone, and no one told you.

“Such a hard worker, aren’t you? So diligent,” the voice purred, his arms moving from your shoulders to down your arms, smoothing out your clothing and releasing you. Should you look up? Would that be disrespectful? You should respond though, right?

“Yes,” you said meekly. “Yes, sir,” you quickly corrected yourself. A moment of silence passed, and you think he was expecting you to raise your head, but you kept your stare on his well-polished shoes, which probably cost more than everything you own.

“Excuse me then, sir,” you stated timidly, desperate to get out of the situation. Before Pantalone could say anything, you bowed your head even more and speedily walked away, making sure to lock yourself in the files cabinet room. If you could scream right now, you would, because what the hell just happened?!

Outside, Pantalone was left with his usual smile. But inside, he was truly pleased - he was finally able to touch you after countless years. Oh, but the way you didn’t even look at his face left him slightly wounded; he wanted to see your eyes tremble with emotion and see your soft lips up close. But he did not need to worry. He would be seeing much more of you after all. Walking out of the bank, he left everyone in shock.

You prayed that you would not have to go through something like that but nope. Every day, Pantalone would come into the bank with the excuse of inspecting and observing the premises. But you knew that was a damn lie because all you could feel while you were working was his gaze on you. He would not hesitate to come up behind you and watch you work, making you nervous and almost mess up, with his silky compliments going to your head. He smelled so good and his hair bounced with practically every step, his voice had deepened to a velvety smooth one. 

It was impossible for your childhood crush to not come creeping back up. The only problem was that you could not bring yourself to muster any conversation, so it was primarily Pantalone speaking. The only thing he managed to wring out of you was “Yes, sir” or “No, sir.” The most embarrassing part of this was that everyone in the bank knew what was going on. Yet the Harbinger did not seem to care. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it, as if he was sending out an undeniable message that said “They’re mine.”

Pantalone knew he had many admirers, people who lusted after him and his wealth. Yet the only one he had eyes were was you - the only person who had stayed with him since the miserable days of his childhood. He had been separated from you for so many years, building his reputation and wealth, slowly but surely, keeping you in mind as he worked tirelessly. Even when he became a Harbinger, he had to keep his distance and sort out any possible enemies. But now, he could finally have you all to himself.

Pantalone had caught you after your shift ended. As soon as you exited the bank, he was right there waiting for you, with that smile you deeply loved yet would not admit. You looked to the sides to see if there were any possible ways to escape, but he had trapped you.

“My dear [Name], why don’t we take a walk together? The weather is not too bad today.”

And that was how you found yourself in your current situation, walking side by side with your crush. Your throat felt dry as Pantalone spoke.

“You’ve been quite cold,” he feigned hurt. “It wounds me so that my dear childhood friend would forget me.”

You don’t know what came over you, but you immediately responded to that. “I didn’t forget. I could never forget you. I remember everything,” you blurted out swiftly. “I just,” you stopped walking and stared at the snow-covered path, thinking of what to say. Pantalone stopped walking too. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to talk to you, I do very much in fact, it’s just that I don’t really know how to act since you’re a fancy Harbinger now and I’m just me, a normal person. And I didn’t really know if you’d still wanna talk to me since you have way better people to interact with anyway, and plus-”

“[Name],” Pantalone interrupted you. “Look at me.”

Hesitantly, you dragged your eyes from the ground to his face. His smile was gone, and his expression was unreadable, but he spread his arms to the side and uttered two words. “Come here,” he beckoned. That was all you needed as you jumped into his arms, pressing your face against his chest. 

His hand stroked your hair and you melted into his touch instantly. “Darling, I can’t fathom how or why you would come to such a conclusion, but it’s quite the opposite. You are the only one who occupies my thoughts. The one who was the only light in my childhood. The one who saved me and helped me, expecting nothing in return.” His voice was soft as he held you tighter. “You are the only one I want.”

Your heart rate had increased significantly at his declaration of love. This was too much to process, so you opted to just squeeze your arms around him tighter. He got the message and allowed you time to take that in. Finally, you lifted your head up and peeked at his gorgeous face.

“Are you mad at me?” you said regretfully.

“I can assure you I could never be upset at anything you would do. That face is too adorable to be mad at,” he chuckled. You gritted your teeth. Why did he have to be so damn suave all the time?

His finger came to hook under your chin, making you raise your head more. His thumb playfully stroked your lips, wanting nothing more than to claim them as his.

“May I?”

You did not respond and instead jumped at the opportunity to surprise him, capturing his perfectly soft lips in yours. Clearly, he was not expecting that as his eyes widened, but he promptly bounced back by responding with more passion. And Archons, it was amazing. You didn’t really know what you were doing, but he took control flawlessly. He withdrew from the kiss, enjoying your breathless expression.

“I’m taking you home, to your new home,” he corrected himself. Smiling at your wide-eyed look, he pecked your lips again. “Surely you did not think,” he kissed you again, “that you would be away from me now? You’re going to live with me, of course.”

“I d-didn’t know we were just diving straight into- mhpm!” Your lips were not being spared from Pantalone’s greedy assault.

“I have had to deal with being away from you for years, not being able to feel you or talk to you, dealing with people who meant nothing to me. Do you know how painful that was?” Pantalone spoke genuinely and cupped your cheek. “I hope you do not plan to deny me, for I intend to spend as much time as possible with you starting now.”

You reached up and intertwined your fingers with his hand on your cheek. “Well… that sounds very good to me. I’ve missed you so much,” you agreed shyly, gazing into his loving eyes.

“Good,” Pantalone placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “We have a lot of catching up to do, don’t we, my love? Ah, and we’ll have to organize a new wardrobe for you, meals, products, assigned maids…” he continued to list off new items that you would have. (He promised the best for you, after all.)

You sweatdropped, slightly lost at his rambling. Did you really need all of that? But, you’d think about that later. You tugged at his arm, interrupting his mumblings.

“Come on, let’s go home, okay? I have a story I’ve been wanting you to read for me…”

[windvexer]

Hello!

I've seen you talk a few times about the dangers of over-warding, which I can certainly see the sense in; at the same time, wards can also certainly be useful things. I'd like to ask you: in your opinion, what is the most sensible amount of wards to have? Does it make sense to ward (oneself, one's home, whatever) at all if you don't have a reason to expect attacks or infringements?

Good morning!

We're at least in reference to this post.

The silly answer is, but I promise to explain it so that it's useful, the most sensible amount of wards to have is however many cover your needs.

I think the topic of warding is often framed in relation to attacks and retaliation, which it certainly relates to. But I think that also gives it a bit of a crusty patina, if you will: "I don't have main character syndrome; I'm not one of those witches who's so paranoid that everyone is going to attack them, and I don't mess around with spirits, so warding isn't for people like me."

Which is all well and good, but the idea of warding in and of itself is that it's just a barrier that stops things from coming through.

Wards can hypothetically block out anything: malifica and spirits, sure, but also unwanted guests, solicitors, debts, poverty, stress, illness, spam phone calls, and spiders.

"Attacks" may not be common, but tangles of unhelpful energy, the Evil Eye, and blustery storms of ill-effect aren't all that rare. Just because someone didn't aim at you and pull the trigger doesn't mean that your life will remain void of deleterious energies.

Spirits living their lives will infringe on you, not because you're the main character or because they're malicious, but because the two of you live in the same reality and sometimes your lives intersect in unwanted ways.

And you can accidentally infringe, and then spirits can be offended and decided to make it your problem.

So in a certain sense, not having wards because you don't expect attacks or infringements is like not having house rules because you don't expect your room mates to ever do anything upsetting:

On the one hand, it's perfectly fine to wait until something is happening before you deal with it.

On the other hand, some people prefer to say, "welcome to the house! Please don't invite your friends to stay the night without checking with us first."

Another confounding factor is whether or not you tend to draw spirits to you, as some people do; and whether or not you live in an area with very high spiritual activity. If you live in a paranormal activity desert, baseline wards might not be useful at all, whereas someone who has sensitive psychic perception and lives in an old converted mortuary might need lots of baseline protection just to feel comfortable.

But perhaps the most important deciding factor is whether or not you want to deal with it.

Early on in my education I heard a witch of great experience say, "the more experienced you get, the less wards you need. You get to a point where you can just deal with things as they arise instead of needing to stay walled in all the time."

Which is technically true. However they may manifest on the astral plane, the functional effect of a ward is like a bug screen: it's likely to stop or mitigate whatever it's meant to hold out.

The real question then becomes, what things would you prefer to never deal with, and what things are you comfortable dealing with as they arise?

Wards should be for that - the things that you would just like to not ever have to deal with, even if you don't particularly expect them to darken your doorstep.

Wards can be useful because they are proactive and preventative. A ward to stop bad energies and stress from your workplace following you home can help reduce the need for more regular spiritual hygiene. A ward against uninvited spirits can help stop you from getting distracted from the magical work you actually want to be doing.

So a ward is like a wall. Does it make sense to build a wall around your farm, even if you never expect a raid from the neighbors?

I don't expect raids from my neighbors. I still build walls.

[punkeropercyjackson]

Honestly why even bother making Jason afrolatino if you're not gonna write him as he is in canon when that's what actually'd make him work good rep for us.What i mean by this is

His ego is huge,he's super tough and an edgelord,has anger issues and brutal ass tactics and is a morally gray vigilante but he's ALSO a huge woman respecter to the point he thinks they're better than men,is extremely kind with a huge soft side and his exterior attitude and Red Hood are trauma responses that're framed as valid on his end so he's not the 'Scary Black Man' stereotype and with the exception of the vigilante part this is actually a pretty common personality type for irl black men-Important note that i don't fall under the attitude but i AM a black man(and woman)

He's been a huge nerd since he's debut in both meanings of it-He's a genius who was a star student in school and loves classical literature,theater and speaking articulately and poetically but just happens not to 24/7 since he's a comic book character,not a Shakespearen one

And his soft sunshine boy with hidden depths Robin self is a critical part of making him as black latino work-You can't go with the retcon of him as a mini thug because it's extremely dangerous stereotyping

Duke as his favorite brother-It's erasure with white gringo Jason but even worse and just stupid because both of them being black would it EVEN BETTER writing they're eachother's number one Batboy pick.Ain't no nigga picking Tim when the only other black guy in the factor is Right There and fuck ya aus,keep Jason white in them and leave afrolatino Jason out of your mess

He hasn't expressed a particular preference for girls he likes but HAS for the ones he dosen't and it's preppy perfect judgemental ones who try to 'tame' him so rip all y'all's white X Readers LMFAO.Worth noting that his canon girlfriends have been a half cambodian tomboy(Rose),an edgyptian butch(Artemis)and a darkskin black woman(Dana)and that he's actively rejected a white blonde girl on the basis of her being too normal(Isabel)and Kory post deblackification so i think it's obvious where his tastes lie

You CANNOT make him and Roy or Batcest a thing-I don't think i need to explain why pairing up a white man who knew an afrolatino since he was 14 and him grown with a daughter and putting him in incest is violently antiblack

Poverty is not inherently bad in black or latino characters and there was a point in canon where it was used as simply an element in Jason's story instead of demonization so use that edition.But making him a drunkard,a smoker or a sex fiend is 100% perpetuating stereotypes and he's canonically the opposite of all three so again,sometimes things that are canon are better

Him being tall and super jacked and intimidating looking can actually enchance it-He uses it to his advantage to get people he dosen't like to fuck off because they buy into the propaganda and gives him more deepness with the rest of his personality

This includes him being a real gamer and his neapolitan food addiction and your headcanons on his other tastes should follow their lead-His favorite characters should be black and latino ones(His favorite Marvel hero is Miles Morales,it's canon to ME),he should listen to black and latino artists,he should eat black and latino food and know how to make it for that matter,etc

Back to a Duke situation-You also can't make a white woman instead of Talia his adoptive mom for obvious reasons and imo if you're gonna make him and Stephanie besties,she should be black too for that black best friends and found siblings rep(She works as a black woman as much as he does a black man and i'll make a manifesto of that like i did him if asked).This applies to the Team Dad Jason take too in the sense that he should mentoring Damian and Nell and Tiffany since they're Batgirls instead of white kids

In summary what i'm trying to say is:If you're going to see Jason as an afrolatino man,you need to go beyond just the aesthetic and little bits you feel like including because you think they're appealing and actually write him as an afrolatino man,as Jason Todd and not some random guy

@nogender-onlystars @willieoo @mayameanderings @desi-pluto @insomniac-jay @vulnonapixes-dc-corner

[fryingpan1234567]

Ladies and gentlemen and everything in between, it is nine degrees Fahrenheit outside

as a result: how well different DC characters handle the cold (because we all know it gets freezing in Gotham, sometimes right in the middle of the summer. Metropolis, Star, and Central City aren’t much better.)

Damian Wayne: he’s been raised from a very young age to withstand conditions harsher than most adults- cold was included in that package. However, that doesn’t mean he likes it. He’s right there with his siblings when they get back from a particularly frigid patrol, stumbling to the nearest fireplaces and dialing every naturally warm-running Kryptonian they know for cuddles (of course Dami would only ever be cuddling with Jon, but sometimes it’s nice to be sandwiched between him and Kara as well)

(That in itself is a sight to behold- Cass and Steph snuggling up to their gf Kara who totally has work tomorrow, Jon forcing Dami into his lap with like six blankets so he doesn’t get sick, Tim is literally melted into Conner’s side and hasn’t woken up since he got here, Dick and a reluctant Jason are sharing a massive blanket with Kon, and Clark and Bruce take pictures before sneaking off to cuddle without the prying eyes of their kids while Alfred makes everyone hot cocoa)

There are several heroes including the Flash, Superman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, and ofc their respective people (speedsters, Kryptonians, Amazons, Atlantians) who don’t really… get cold. They tend to be used as heated blankets for other JL members and their kids lol

Wally West does not like the cold. Although he never has to worry about it actually damaging him because of his healing factor, it’s just unpleasant as a whole. So that means he comes home to Dick from patrol shivering, with a brand new cold, and pissed off. Dick will just hold him under multiple blankets in bed, watching Disney’s Frozen until they’re both asleep.

Jason Todd is used to it. He grew up on the streets and before that in poverty, so he’s no stranger to Gotham winter. He’ll often give his leather jacket and gloves to people he sees without, leaving him in just his suit and maybe he starts to get a bit chilly by then but it’s so worth it to know he made someone’s night a little more bearable. Plus he’s got a boyfriend and daughter to warm him up when he gets home.

Harley Quinn is an absolute psychopath and rarely wears a coat, even when it’s in the negatives. She’s out there in her pigtails (dyed green and red instead of blue and pink for the holidays!!) and skimpy skirts, not a sign of the winter in sight as far as her outfit goes (unless you count the hideous tree skirt she’s wrapped around her shoulders like a poncho). Something about her is just… immune. And it’s great, bc her gf Ivy definitely does not do quite as well as her in the cold and she’s happy to provide warmth whenever necessary.

Jon Kent is aware that it’s cold outside, but the funny thing is that it doesn’t bother him until he starts thinking about it. Like he’ll be on patrol with Dami or Conner, perfectly fine, and all of a sudden he’s aware of Damian’s chattering or Conner tugging his jacket closer at a gust of wind and then he’s so cold he wants to claw his own skin off. Luckily, whoever he’s with is willing to get him a hot cocoa at the nearest coffee shop, but still, he hates the cold. As a Kryptonian, it’s just unnatural.

Bruce Wayne has had hypothermia so many times in his Batman days that his temperature sensors are honestly dead. Obviously not great, but it means he can sit atop a gargoyle with 70mph frigid winds whipping past and hold whatever bird is tucked beneath his cape to hide from the weather without being affected whatsoever. There is a limit- Alfred has ordered that he come home when the frostbite kicks in, because he does need all his limbs to fight crime, but that’s the extent of his winter protection.

Tim Drake is the type of guy to forget it’s December and march out the house in a short sleeve, almost get blown off his feet by an aggressive breeze, declare “NOPE” and head right back inside. In the winter he does prefer mochas, but he adds so many extra shots of espresso you almost can’t even taste the chocolate anymore. Only Tim Drake could find Christmas horror movies, but he manages, and that’s how he spends 90% of his wintertime, Conner tucked into his side like a personal bf heater.

You know who really likes the cold? Diana Fucking Prince. She never got snow or even so much as a chilly breeze on the island- and you know what the snow does remind her of? That night. The one where she and Steve slow danced in the town square after saving the village, all the way back in WWII. It was the first time she’d ever experienced the cold, but it thankfully wasn’t the last (:

With that guys I gotta go to bed- I’m finally on winter break!! Have a good morning/ night/ 4am y’all 🥰

[gaysails]

"If low-wage workers do not always behave in an economically rational way, that is, as free agents within a capitalist democracy, it is because they dwell in a place that is neither free nor in any way democratic. When you enter the low-wage workplace – and many of the medium-wage workplaces as well – you check your civil liberties at the door, leave America and all it supposedly stands for behind, and learn to zip your lips for the duration of the shift. The consequences of this routine surrender go beyond the issues of wages and poverty. We can hardly pride ourselves on being the world's preeminent democracy, after all, if large numbers of citizens spend half their waking hours in what amounts, in plain terms, to a dictatorship. . . My guess is that the indignities imposed on so many low-wage workers – the drug tests, the constant surveillance, being 'reamed out' by managers – are part of what keeps wages low. If you're made to feel unworthy enough, you may come to think that what you're paid is what you are actually worth. It is hard to imagine any other function for workplace authoritarianism. Managers may truly believe that, without their unremitting efforts, all work would quickly grind to a halt. That is not my impression. While I encountered some cynics and plenty of people who had learned how to budget their energy, I never met an actual slacker [. . .] On the contrary, I was amazed and sometimes saddened by the pride people took in jobs that rewarded them so meagerly, either in wages or in recognition. Often, in fact, these people experienced management as an obstacle to getting the job done as it should be done. Waitresses chafed at managers' stinginess toward the customers; housecleaners resented the time constraints that sometimes made them cut corners; retail workers wanted the floor to be beautiful, not cluttered with excess stock as management required. Left to themselves, they devised systems of cooperation and work sharing; when there was a crisis, they rose to it. In fact, it was often hard to see what the function of management was, other than to exact obeisance. There seems to be a vicious cycle at work here, making ours not just an economy but a culture of extreme inequality. [Corporate decision makers and entrepreneurs] occupy an economic position miles above that of the underpaid people whose labor they depend on. For reasons that have more to do with class – and often racial – prejudice than with actual experience, they tend to fear and distrust the category of people from which they recruit their workers. Hence the perceived need for repressive management and intrusive measures like drug and personality testing. But these things cost money – $20,000 or more a year for a manager, $100 a pop for a drug test, and so on – and the high cost of repression results in ever more pressure to hold wages down. The larger society seems to be caught up in a similar cycle: cutting public services for the poor, which are sometimes referred to collectively as the 'social wage,' while investing ever more heavily in prisons and cops. And in the larger society, too, the cost of repression becomes another factor weighing against the expansion or restoration of needed services. It is a tragic cycle, condemning us to ever deeper inequality, and in the long run, almost no one benefits but the agents of repression themselves."

-Barbara Ehrenreich, Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting By in America

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: James B. Meigs

Published: Spring 2024

Michael Shermer got his first clue that things were changing at Scientific American in late 2018. The author had been writing his “Skeptic” column for the magazine since 2001. His monthly essays, aimed at an audience of both scientists and laymen, championed the scientific method, defended the need for evidence-based debate, and explored how cognitive and ideological biases can derail the search for truth. Shermer’s role models included two twentieth-century thinkers who, like him, relished explaining science to the public: Carl Sagan, the ebullient astronomer and TV commentator; and evolutionary biologist Stephen Jay Gould, who wrote a popular monthly column in Natural History magazine for 25 years. Shermer hoped someday to match Gould’s record of producing 300 consecutive columns. That goal would elude him.

In continuous publication since 1845, Scientific American is the country’s leading mainstream science magazine. Authors published in its pages have included Albert Einstein, Francis Crick, Jonas Salk, and J. Robert Oppenheimer—some 200 Nobel Prize winners in all. SciAm, as many readers call it, had long encouraged its authors to challenge established viewpoints. In the mid-twentieth century, for example, the magazine published a series of articles building the case for the then-radical concept of plate tectonics. In the twenty-first century, however, American scientific media, including Scientific American, began to slip into lockstep with progressive beliefs. Suddenly, certain orthodoxies—especially concerning race, gender, or climate—couldn’t be questioned.

“I started to see the writing on the wall toward the end of my run there,” Shermer told me. “I saw I was being slowly nudged away from certain topics.” One month, he submitted a column about the “fallacy of excluded exceptions,” a common logical error in which people perceive a pattern of causal links between factors but ignore counterexamples that don’t fit the pattern. In the story, Shermer debunked the myth of the “horror-film curse,” which asserts that bad luck tends to haunt actors who appear in scary movies. (The actors in most horror films survive unscathed, he noted, while bad luck sometimes strikes the casts of non-scary movies as well.) Shermer also wanted to include a serious example: the common belief that sexually abused children grow up to become abusers in turn. He cited evidence that “most sexually abused children do not grow up to abuse their own children” and that “most abusive parents were not abused as children.” And he observed how damaging this stereotype could be to abuse survivors; statistical clarity is all the more vital in such delicate cases, he argued. But Shermer’s editor at the magazine wasn’t having it. To the editor, Shermer’s effort to correct a common misconception might be read as downplaying the seriousness of abuse. Even raising the topic might be too traumatic for victims.

The following month, Shermer submitted a column discussing ways that discrimination against racial minorities, gays, and other groups has diminished (while acknowledging the need for continued progress). Here, Shermer ran into the same wall that Better Angels of Our Nature author Steven Pinker and other scientific optimists have faced. For progressives, admitting that any problem—racism, pollution, poverty—has improved means surrendering the rhetorical high ground. “They are committed to the idea that there is no cumulative progress,” Shermer says, and they angrily resist efforts to track the true prevalence, or the “base rate,” of a problem. Saying that “everything is wonderful and everyone should stop whining doesn’t really work,” his editor objected.

Shermer dug his grave deeper by quoting Manhattan Institute fellow Heather Mac Donald and The Coddling of the American Mind authors Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt, who argue that the rise of identity-group politics undermines the goal of equal rights for all. Shermer wrote that intersectional theory, which lumps individuals into aggregate identity groups based on race, sex, and other immutable characteristics, “is a perverse inversion” of Martin Luther King’s dream of a color-blind society. For Shermer’s editors, apparently, this was the last straw. The column was killed and Shermer’s contract terminated. Apparently, SciAm no longer had the ideological bandwidth to publish such a heterodox thinker.

American journalism has never been very good at covering science. In fact, the mainstream press is generally a cheap date when it comes to stories about alternative medicine, UFO sightings, pop psychology, or various forms of junk science. For many years, that was one factor that made Scientific American’s rigorous reporting so vital. The New York Times, National Geographic, Smithsonian, and a few other mainstream publications also produced top-notch science coverage. Peer-reviewed academic journals aimed at specialists met a higher standard still. But over the past decade or so, the quality of science journalism—even at the top publications—has declined in a new and alarming way. Today’s journalistic failings don’t owe simply to lazy reporting or a weakness for sensationalism but to a sweeping and increasingly pervasive worldview.

It is hard to put a single name on this sprawling ideology. It has its roots both in radical 1960s critiques of capitalism and in the late-twentieth-century postmodern movement that sought to “problematize” notions of objective truth. Critical race theory, which sees structural racism as the grand organizing principle of our society, is one branch. Queer studies, which seeks to “deconstruct” traditional norms of family, sex, and gender, is another. Critics of this worldview sometimes call it “identity politics”; supporters prefer the term “intersectionality.” In managerial settings, the doctrine lives under the label of diversity, equity, and inclusion, or DEI: a set of policies that sound anodyne—but in practice, are anything but.

This dogma sees Western values, and the United States in particular, as uniquely pernicious forces in world history. And, as exemplified by the anticapitalist tirades of climate activist Greta Thunberg, the movement features a deep eco-pessimism buoyed only by the distant hope of a collectivist green utopia.

The DEI worldview took over our institutions slowly, then all at once. Many on the left, especially journalists, saw Donald Trump’s election in 2016 as an existential threat that necessitated dropping the guardrails of balance and objectivity. Then, in early 2020, Covid lockdowns put American society under unbearable pressure. Finally, in May 2020, George Floyd’s death under the knee of a Minneapolis police officer provided the spark. Protesters exploded onto the streets. Every institution, from coffeehouses to Fortune 500 companies, felt compelled to demonstrate its commitment to the new “antiracist” ethos. In an already polarized environment, most media outlets lunged further left. Centrists—including New York Times opinion editor James Bennet and science writer Donald G. McNeil, Jr.—were forced out, while radical progressive voices were elevated.

This was the national climate when Laura Helmuth took the helm of Scientific American in April 2020. Helmuth boasted a sterling résumé: a Ph.D. in cognitive neuroscience from the University of California–Berkeley and a string of impressive editorial jobs at outlets including Science, National Geographic, and the Washington Post. Taking over a large print and online media operation during the early weeks of the Covid pandemic couldn’t have been easy. On the other hand, those difficult times represented a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for an ambitious science editor. Rarely in the magazine’s history had so many Americans urgently needed timely, sensible science reporting: Where did Covid come from? How is it transmitted? Was shutting down schools and businesses scientifically justified? What do we know about vaccines?

Scientific American did examine Covid from various angles, including an informative July 2020 cover story diagramming how the SARS-CoV-2 virus “sneaks inside human cells.” But the publication didn’t break much new ground in covering the pandemic. When it came to assessing growing evidence that Covid might have escaped from a laboratory, for example, SciAm got scooped by New York and Vanity Fair, publications known more for their coverage of politics and entertainment than of science.

At the same time, SciAm dramatically ramped up its social-justice coverage. The magazine would soon publish a flurry of articles with titles such as “Modern Mathematics Confronts Its White, Patriarchal Past” and “The Racist Roots of Fighting Obesity.” The death of the twentieth century’s most acclaimed biologist was the hook for “The Complicated Legacy of E. O. Wilson,” an opinion piece arguing that Wilson’s work was “based on racist ideas,” without quoting a single line from his large published canon. At least those pieces had some connection to scientific topics, though. In 2021, SciAm published an opinion essay, “Why the Term ‘JEDI’ Is Problematic for Describing Programs That Promote Justice, Equity, Diversity, and Inclusion.” The article’s five authors took issue with the effort by some social-justice advocates to create a cute new label while expanding the DEI acronym to include “Justice.” The Jedi knights of the Star Wars movies are “inappropriate mascots for social justice,” the authors argued, because they are “prone to (white) saviorism and toxically masculine approaches to conflict resolution (violent duels with phallic light sabers, gaslighting by means of ‘Jedi mind tricks,’ etc.).” What all this had to do with science was anyone’s guess.

Several prominent scientists took note of SciAm’s shift. “Scientific American is changing from a popular-science magazine into a social-justice-in-science magazine,” Jerry Coyne, a University of Chicago emeritus professor of ecology and evolution, wrote on his popular blog, “Why Evolution Is True.” He asked why the magazine had “changed its mission from publishing decent science pieces to flawed bits of ideology.”

“The old Scientific American that I subscribed to in college was all about the science,” University of New Mexico evolutionary psychologist Geoffrey Miller told me. “It was factual reporting on new ideas and findings from physics to psychology, with a clear writing style, excellent illustrations, and no obvious political agenda.” Miller says that he noticed a gradual change about 15 years ago, and then a “woke political bias that got more flagrant and irrational” over recent years. The leading U.S. science journals, Nature and Science, and the U.K.-based New Scientist made a similar pivot, he says. By the time Trump was elected in 2016, he says, “the Scientific American editors seem to have decided that fighting conservatives was more important than reporting on science.”

Scientific American’s increasing engagement in politics drew national attention in late 2020, when the magazine, for the first time in its 175-year history, endorsed a presidential candidate. “The evidence and the science show that Donald Trump has badly damaged the U.S. and its people,” the editors wrote. “That is why we urge you to vote for Joe Biden.” In an e-mail exchange, Scientific American editor-in-chief Helmuth said that the decision to endorse Biden was made unanimously by the magazine’s staff. “Overall, the response was very positive,” she said. Helmuth also pushed back on the idea that getting involved in political battles represented a new direction for SciAm. “We have a long and proud history of covering the social and political angles of science,” she said, noting that the magazine “has advocated for teaching evolution and not creationism since we covered the Scopes Monkey Trial.”

Scientific American wasn’t alone in endorsing a presidential candidate in 2020. Nature also endorsed Biden in that election cycle. The New England Journal of Medicine indirectly did the same, writing that “our current leaders have demonstrated that they are dangerously incompetent” and should not “keep their jobs.” Vinay Prasad, the prominent oncologist and public-health expert, recently lampooned the endorsement trend on his Substack, asking whether science journals will tell him who to vote for again in 2024. “Here is an idea! Call it crazy,” he wrote: “Why don’t scientists focus on science, and let politics decide the election?” When scientists insert themselves into politics, he added, “the only result is we are forfeiting our credibility.”

But what does it mean to “focus on science”? Many of us learned the standard model of the scientific method in high school. We understand that science attempts—not always perfectly—to shield the search for truth from political interference, religious dogmas, or personal emotions and biases. But that model of science has been under attack for half a century. The French theorist Michel Foucault argued that scientific objectivity is an illusion produced and shaped by society’s “systems of power.” Today’s woke activists challenge the legitimacy of science on various grounds: the predominance of white males in its history, the racist attitudes held by some of its pioneers, its inferiority to indigenous “ways of knowing,” and so on. Ironically, as Christopher Rufo points out in his book America’s Cultural Revolution, this postmodern ideology—which began as a critique of oppressive power structures—today empowers the most illiberal, repressive voices within academic and other institutions.

Shermer believes that the new style of science journalism “is being defined by this postmodern worldview, the idea that all facts are relative or culturally determined.” Of course, if scientific facts are just products of a particular cultural milieu, he says, “then everything is a narrative that has to reflect some political side.” Without an agreed-upon framework to separate valid from invalid claims—without science, in other words—people fall back on their hunches and in-group biases, the “my-side bias.”

Traditionally, science reporting was mostly descriptive—writers strove to explain new discoveries in a particular field. The new style of science journalism takes the form of advocacy—writers seek to nudge readers toward a politically approved opinion.

“Lately journalists have been behaving more like lawyers,” Shermer says, “marshaling evidence in favor of their own view and ignoring anything that doesn’t help their argument.” This isn’t just the case in science journalism, of course. Even before the Trump era, the mainstream press boosted stories that support left-leaning viewpoints and carefully avoided topics that might offer ammunition to the Right. Most readers understand, of course, that stories about politics are likely to be shaped by a media outlet’s ideological slant. But science is theoretically supposed to be insulated from political influence. Sadly, the new woke style of science journalism reframes factual scientific debates as ideological battles, with one side presumed to be morally superior. Not surprisingly, the crisis in science journalism is most obvious in the fields where public opinion is most polarized.

The Covid pandemic was a crisis not just for public health but for the public’s trust in our leading institutions. From Anthony Fauci on down, key public-health officials issued unsupported policy prescriptions, fudged facts, and suppressed awkward questions about the origin of the virus. A skeptical, vigorous science press could have done a lot to keep these officials honest—and the public informed. Instead, even elite science publications mostly ran cover for the establishment consensus. For example, when Stanford’s Jay Bhattacharya and two other public-health experts proposed an alternative to lockdowns in their Great Barrington Declaration, media outlets joined in Fauci’s effort to discredit and silence them.

Richard Ebright, professor of chemical biology at Rutgers University, is a longtime critic of gain-of-function research, which can make naturally occurring viruses deadlier. From the early weeks of the pandemic, he suspected that the virus had leaked from China’s Wuhan Institute of Virology. Evidence increasingly suggests that he was correct. I asked Ebright how he thought that the media had handled the lab-leak debate. He responded:

Science writers at most major news outlets and science news outlets have spent the last four years obfuscating and misrepresenting facts about the origin of the pandemic. They have done this to protect the scientists, science administrators, and the field of science—gain-of-function research on potential pandemic pathogens—that likely caused the pandemic. They have done this in part because those scientists and science administrators are their sources, . . . in part because they believe that public trust in science would be damaged by reporting the facts, and in part because the origin of the pandemic acquired a partisan political valance after early public statements by Tom Cotton, Mike Pompeo, and Donald Trump.

During the first two years of the pandemic, most mainstream media outlets barely mentioned the lab-leak debate. And when they did, they generally savaged both the idea and anyone who took it seriously. In March 2021, long after credible evidence emerged hinting at a laboratory origin for the virus, Scientific American published an article, “Lab-Leak Hypothesis Made It Harder for Scientists to Seek the Truth.” The piece compared the theory to the KGB’s disinformation campaign about the origin of HIV/AIDS and blamed lab-leak advocates for creating a poisonous climate around the issue: “The proliferation of xenophobic rhetoric has been linked to a striking increase in anti-Asian hate crimes. It has also led to a vilification of the [Wuhan Institute of Virology] and some of its Western collaborators, as well as partisan attempts to defund certain types of research (such as ‘gain of function’ research).” Today we know that the poisonous atmosphere around the lab-leak question was deliberately created by Anthony Fauci and a handful of scientists involved in dangerous research at the Wuhan lab. And the case for banning gain-of-function research has never been stronger.

One of the few science journalists who did take the lab-leak question seriously was Donald McNeil, Jr., the veteran New York Times reporter forced out of the paper in an absurd DEI panic. After leaving the Times—and like several other writers pursuing the lab-leak question—McNeil published his reporting on his own Medium blog. It is telling that, at a time when leading science publications were averse to exploring the greatest scientific mystery of our time, some of the most honest reporting on the topic was published in independent, reader-funded outlets. It’s also instructive to note that the journalist who replaced McNeil on the Covid beat at the Times, Apoorva Mandavilli, showed open hostility to investigating Covid’s origins. In 2021, she famously tweeted: “Someday we will stop talking about the lab leak theory and maybe even admit its racist roots. But alas, that day is not yet here.” It would be hard to compose a better epitaph to the credibility of mainstream science journalism.

As Shermer observed, many science journalists see their role not as neutral reporters but as advocates for noble causes. This is especially true in reporting about the climate. Many publications now have reporters on a permanent “climate beat,” and several nonprofit organizations offer grants to help fund climate coverage. Climate science is an important field, worthy of thoughtful, balanced coverage. Unfortunately, too many climate reporters seem especially prone to common fallacies, including base-rate neglect, and to hyping tenuous data.

The mainstream science press never misses an opportunity to ratchet up climate angst. No hurricane passes without articles warning of “climate disasters.” And every major wildfire seemingly generates a “climate apocalypse” headline. For example, when a cluster of Quebec wildfires smothered the eastern U.S. in smoke last summer, the New York Times called it “a season of climate extremes.” It’s likely that a warming planet will result in more wildfires and stronger hurricanes. But eager to convince the public that climate-linked disasters are rapidly trending upward, journalists tend to neglect the base rate. In the case of Quebec wildfires, for example, 2023 was a fluky outlier. During the previous eight years, Quebec wildfires burned fewer acres than average; then, there was no upward trend—and no articles discussing the paucity of fires. By the same token, according to the U.S. National Hurricane Center, a lower-than-average number of major hurricanes struck the U.S. between 2011 and 2020. But there were no headlines suggesting, say, “Calm Hurricane Seasons Cast Doubt on Climate Predictions.”

Most climate journalists wouldn’t dream of drawing attention to data that challenge the climate consensus. They see their role as alerting the public to an urgent problem that will be solved only through political change.

Similar logic applies to social issues. The social-justice paradigm rests on the notion that racism, sexism, transphobia, and other biases are so deeply embedded in our society that they can be eradicated only through constant focus on the problem. Any people or institutions that don’t participate in this process need to be singled out for criticism. In such an atmosphere, it takes a particularly brave journalist to note exceptions to the reigning orthodoxy.

This dynamic is especially intense in the debates over transgender medicine. The last decade has seen a huge surge in children claiming dissatisfaction with their gender. According to one survey, the number of children aged six to 17 diagnosed with gender dysphoria surged from roughly 15,000 to 42,000 in the years between 2017 and 2021 alone. The number of kids prescribed hormones to block puberty more than doubled. Puberty blockers and other treatments for gender dysphoria have enormous potential lifelong consequences, including sterility, sexual dysfunction, and interference with brain development. Families facing treatment decisions for youth gender dysphoria desperately need clear, objective guidance. They’re not getting it.

Instead, medical organizations and media outlets typically describe experimental hormone treatments and surgeries as routine, and even “lifesaving,” when, in fact, their benefits remain contested, while their risks are enormous. In a series of articles, the Manhattan Institute’s Leor Sapir has documented how trans advocates enforce this appearance of consensus among U.S. scientists, medical experts, and many journalists. Through social-media campaigns and other tools, these activists have forced conferences to drop leading scientists, gotten journals to withdraw scientific papers after publication, and interfered with the distribution of Abigail Shrier’s 2020 book Irreversible Damage, which challenges the wisdom of “gender-affirming care” for adolescent girls. While skeptics are cowed into silence, Sapir concludes, those who advocate fast-tracking children for radical gender therapy “will go down in history as responsible for one of the worst medical scandals in U.S. history.”

In such an overheated environment, it would be helpful to have a journalistic outlet advocating a sober, evidence-based approach. In an earlier era, Scientific American might have been that voice. Unfortunately, SciAm today downplays messy debates about gender therapies, while offering sunny platitudes about the “safety and efficacy” of hormone treatments for prepubescent patients. For example, in a 2023 article, “What Are Puberty Blockers, and How Do They Work?,” the magazine repeats the unsubstantiated claim that such treatments are crucial to preventing suicide among gender-dysphoric children. “These medications are well studied and have been used safely since the late 1980s to pause puberty in adolescents with gender dysphoria,” SciAm states.

The independent journalist Jesse Singal, a longtime critic of slipshod science reporting, demolishes these misleading claims in a Substack post. In fact, the use of puberty blockers to treat gender dysphoria is a new and barely researched phenomenon, he notes: “[W]e have close to zero studies that have tracked gender dysphoric kids who went on blockers over significant lengths of time to see how they have fared.” Singal finds it especially alarming to see a leading science magazine obscure the uncertainty surrounding these treatments. “I believe that this will go down as a major journalistic blunder that will be looked back upon with embarrassment and regret,” he writes.

Fortunately, glimmers of light are shining through on the gender-care controversy. The New York Times has lately begun publishing more balanced articles on the matter, much to the anger of activists. And various European countries have started reassessing and limiting youth hormone treatments. England’s National Health Service recently commissioned the respected pediatrician Hilary Cass to conduct a sweeping review of the evidence supporting youth gender medicine. Her nearly 400-page report is a bombshell, finding that evidence supporting hormone interventions for children is “weak,” while the long-term risks of such treatments have been inadequately studied. “For most young people,” the report concludes, “a medical pathway will not be the best way to manage their gender-related distress.” In April, the NHS announced that it will no longer routinely prescribe puberty blocking drugs to children.

Scientific American has yet to offer an even-handed review of the new scientific skepticism toward aggressive gender medicine. Instead, in February, the magazine published an opinion column, “Pseudoscience Has Long Been Used to Oppress Transgender People.” Shockingly, it argues for even less medical caution in dispensing radical treatments. The authors approvingly note that “many trans activists today call for diminishing the role of medical authority altogether in gatekeeping access to trans health care,” arguing that patients should have “access to hormones and surgery on demand.” And, in an implicit warning to anyone who might question these claims and goals, the article compares today’s skeptics of aggressive gender medicine to Nazi eugenicists and book burners. Shortly after the Cass report’s release, SciAm published an interview with two activists who argue that scientists questioning trans orthodoxy are conducting “epistemological violence.”

There’s nothing wrong with vigorous debate over scientific questions. In fact, in both science and journalism, adversarial argumentation is a vital tool in testing claims and getting to the truth. “A bad idea can hover in the ether of a culture if there is no norm for speaking out,” Shermer says. Where some trans activists cross the line is in trying to derail debate by shaming and excluding anyone who challenges the activists’ manufactured consensus.

Such intimidation has helped enforce other scientific taboos. Anthony Fauci called the scientists behind the Great Barrington Declaration “fringe epidemiologists” and successfully lobbied to censor their arguments on social media. Climate scientists who diverge from the mainstream consensus struggle to get their research funded or published. The claim that implicit racial bias unconsciously influences our minds has been debunked time and again—but leading science magazines keep asserting it.

Scientists and journalists aren’t known for being shrinking violets. What makes them tolerate this enforced conformity? The intimidation described above is one factor. Academia and journalism are both notoriously insecure fields; a single accusation of racism or anti-trans bias can be a career ender. In many organizations, this gives the youngest, most radical members of the community disproportionate power to set ideological agendas.

“Scientists, science publishers, and science journalists simply haven’t learned how to say no to emotionally unhinged activists,” evolutionary psychologist Miller says. “They’re prone to emotional blackmail, and they tend to be very naive about the political goals of activists who claim that scientific finding X or Y will ‘impose harm’ on some group.”

But scientists may also have what they perceive to be positive motives to self-censor. A fascinating recent paper concludes: “Prosocial motives underlie scientific censorship by scientists.” The authors include a who’s who of heterodox thinkers, including Miller, Manhattan Institute fellow Glenn Loury, Pamela Paresky, John McWhorter, Steven Pinker, and Wilfred Reilly. “Our analysis suggests that scientific censorship is often driven by scientists, who are primarily motivated by self-protection, benevolence toward peer scholars, and prosocial concerns for the well-being of human social groups,” they write.

Whether motivated by good intentions, conformity, or fear of ostracization, scientific censorship undermines both the scientific process and public trust. The authors of the “prosocial motives” paper point to “at least one obvious cost of scientific censorship: the suppression of accurate information.” When scientists claim to represent a consensus about ideas that remain in dispute—or avoid certain topics entirely—those decisions filter down through the journalistic food chain. Findings that support the social-justice worldview get amplified in the media, while disapproved topics are excoriated as disinformation. Not only do scientists lose the opportunity to form a clearer picture of the world; the public does, too. At the same time, the public notices when claims made by health officials and other experts prove to be based more on politics than on science. A new Pew Research poll finds that the percentage of Americans who say that they have a “great deal” of trust in scientists has fallen from 39 percent in 2020 to 23 percent today.

“Whenever research can help inform policy decisions, it’s important for scientists and science publications to share what we know and how we know it,” Scientific American editor Helmuth says. “This is especially true as misinformation and disinformation are spreading so widely.” That would be an excellent mission statement for a serious science publication. We live in an era when scientific claims underpin huge swaths of public policy, from Covid to climate to health care for vulnerable youths. It has never been more vital to subject those claims to rigorous debate.

Unfortunately, progressive activists today begin with their preferred policy outcomes or ideological conclusions and then try to force scientists and journalists to fall in line. Their worldview insists that, rather than challenging the progressive orthodoxy, science must serve as its handmaiden. This pre-Enlightenment style of thinking used to hold sway only in radical political subcultures and arcane corners of academia. Today it is reflected even in our leading institutions and science publications. Without a return to the core principles of science—and the broader tradition of fact-based discourse and debate—our society risks drifting onto the rocks of irrationality.

[ Via: https://archive.today/j03w3 ]

==

Scientific American now embodies the worst of far-left anti-science nonsense.

[timemachineyeah]

the fact that I cannot simply quit my job. there’s plenty of food and space and skilled people in the world. things could function so much better with a tenth the labor if we were efficient about it. but we aren’t. and under capitalism I love my job - I am incredibly lucky to have it and even find it fulfilling in its way. but also I am disabled and my life would be 1000% easier if I just didn’t have to find miracle jobs to make what still comes to below poverty wages given how few hours I can manage. but even though the amount of money I make is play money to other people, it’s the only thing giving me dignity, both the dignity of privacy in spending and the false dignity of being a “productive member of society”. plus, like, I gotta eat and feed my cats, even if I’m currently rent free. but sometimes I think about the ways money and my job (and their relationship with my health) play as such large factors in my decision making and I just think, ideally, those would have less weight. ideally I could just quit my job and somehow still have money. not because I don’t love the work, but because of the limitations having to maintain both a work schedule and my fatigue put on me.

[anarchistfrogposting]

Can you give me examples of praxis, mutual aid and dual power I can do? If it helps anything, I live in Southern Sweden, but I just in general have no idea where to start.

Good question!

Just to emphasise, praxis is an action that intends to facilitate the fruition of one’s political ideals, so mutual aid, the facilitation of direct democracy and the creation of dual power are all modes of praxis. It sounds like you knew this already though.

There are loads of ways to get involved! In this post I’m going to talk about three things, namely;

1: theory

2: networking (how to meet up with other anarchists!)

3: mutual aid (the most important one)

1: Theory - Reading theory is a great way to understand what you’re doing and why you’re doing it

As I’m sure people will tell you, theory is not the be all and end all of being an anarchist. You can easily get away with being an anarchist without reading a drop of theory.

But it helps. When you’re exploring anarchism and your relationship with it, you’re probably going to have a lot of questions, and people have devoted novels and novels all to just answering those questions! Here’s a big directory of resources just for you!

If you’re looking for a good introductory book, I cannot recommend enough the ABCs of Anarchism by Alexander Berkman. It’s what got me into it. I would recommend reading some introductory stuff before you explore other important anarchists (Kropotkin, Bakunin, Goldman), since the older foundational stuff can be antiquated or difficult to read in places. Kropotkin’s Mutual Aid is a great praxis guide, though.

2: Networking - Go to local meets for anarchists in your area

Forgive me if I have this wrong, but Southern Sweden is fairly urban, right? If you live in a town or city, there’s a really good chance there’s anarchist organisations or at least mutual aid groups in your area that will hold meetings to discuss topics concerning anarchism and even leftism in general. They’ll also probably do a book club; anarchists famously love books.

(Hilariously, one factor that makes it so hard for the police to infiltrate anarchist groups is that the debate is so intense and various that they stick out like a sore thumb.)

These are the groups that Wikipedia has to offer.

I really have no idea what these guys are like; I’m from a tiny little village in the UK. It’s worth looking about. Anarchists tend to put up flyers for the organisations in their local area (provided they’re not super spicy lmao).

If you go to the meetups and the organisation seems like it’s got its shit together, join up! It’s a lot easier to help your community as a mutually interested collective than it is as an individual (obviously).

3: Mutual Aid - DO! MUTUAL! AID!

Many anarchists will tell you that the single most important way to get involved as an anarchist is to do mutual aid. I concur, honestly. Mutual Aid is the foundation of anarchist society. It is the sharing of resources and the collective commitment to respecting and supporting everybody you possibly can that forms the backbone of anarchist society.

Mutual aid is a form of direct action, i.e. tackling an issue by directly focusing on the material conditions that generated the issue. It relies on individuals coming together with their wider community to co-operate in order to mutually achieve a set aim.

I say this a lot! And I’ll say it again!

Mutual aid is for everyone, no matter your situation. Everybody needs help sometimes. The point is that we build networks of trust and reliability that will eventually come to fruition in full-fledged anarchist society. Given the scale of anarchist projects in western society at this point, though, many anarchists focus on specific and pressing issues in their area.

It’s important to remember that the nature of capitalism is such that almost everybody is two or three really bad months away from poverty. Capitalism hurts everyone and mutual aid is an effort to alleviate that suffering. Mutual aid is for everyone.

Here’s some examples of common mutual aid projects, taken from this article

mutual aid is various and complex, much like anarchist society.

One mutual aid group I heard about the other day is a group that helps alleviate loneliness in the elderly by visiting their homes and helping them with their groceries, etc.

mutual aid also played an important part in the Greensboro sit-ins movement and the wider struggle for civil rights in black communities in America throughout the 1950s-70s, and remains in that key role today.

It works so well for marginalised groups because it allows disempowered individuals to pool their resources in order to make a greater impact on the issue. It logically follows that it would be a huge axis of anarchist organisation.

[localplaguenurse]

Tell us.

*cracks knuckles*

Reasons Pantalone is husband material: a thread

So in the context of prev ask, literally anyone would make for a better spouse in an arranged marriage, it’s just that I think Pantalone would be the best because I love him

Because I love him also I’m going off my interpretations of him because where are my fucking crumbs Hoyo it has been a year since his appearance-

First and foremost, he’s a rich bitch. He cannot only provide for you, but he could also spoil you absolutely rotten.

Second, we know he’s very passionate about his work and ideas, going on and on about them. A passion for your craft is a very attractive trait but then you factor in that voice and yeah, even if you don’t know wtf he’s talking about you’re absolutely getting drawn into that discussion just to hear him talk.

He has many stories to share, some he’s more willing to discuss than others, but regardless the stories he has are rarely ever dull. The only dull ones would be business meetings but the voice does the heavy lifting.

From intellectual discussions to hearing him ramble about his day at the bank, no matter how active you are in that conversation, it’s rarely ever a dull one.

He’s the friendliest of the Harbingers save for Childe. His status and his jobs as Harbinger and founder of the Northland Bank means he’s had to learn and master etiquette and manners and how to sweet talk people. Even if it is just a front to get others to trust him, a polite tone and charming smile will get you anywhere if you know when and where to use them.

Getting him to actually open up to you would be a tricky job because childhood trauma is a bitch, but once you actually get him vulnerable you will have that man in the palm of your hand.

His empathy can be a little hit or miss sometimes because again, trauma is a bitch. It’s a side effect of the cynicism he’s developed as a result of growing up in poverty and having to get his hands dirty in one way or another to survive, let alone succeed in life. Still, when it comes to his partner, he takes their troubles and traumas very seriously because he knows what it’s like to be helpless and doesn’t want them of all people to feel that way.

You cannot tell me he isn’t touch starved. In private that man can and will find any way he can to get close to you. He will obvs respect boundaries, but he just finds comfort in your touch. This one is more up to you if it’s a good or bad thing but I like physical touch so it’s good to me.

The man is meticulous. He would want everything to be perfect. He’ll pull whatever strings he can to impress you, and would pay attention to all the things you like. Is there a particular gemstone you like? He’ll make sure all the jewellery he puts on you has them and that they match your attire. You mentioned offhand that there’s a specific dish from Sumeru you haven’t had in a while? Dinner the next day is that exact dish with the most authentic recipe he can have his cooks work from.

Could literally give you any wedding you want, at least as far as cost goes. If it’s some super ridiculous and tacky themed wedding he will more than likely shoot it down, but if we’re talking venues, decor, attire, food, etc, literally do not worry about it. Just tell him what you want and he’ll have it done and paid for yesterday. Small wedding, big wedding, does not matter, he can afford it.

What I’m trying to say is that even if you were to be in an arranged and probably loveless marriage with him, you’d still get a pretty good deal because you still get an interesting and polite man who will take care of your needs. It just happens that if you do marry him for love or eventually fall in love, he will just go all in on you because now he wants to keep you, impress you, and show his appreciation to you.

Anyways seriously hoyo where the fuck is he-

This would’ve been longer but I already shared a lot of my ideas in my domestic pants headcanons, and uh... the rest of my ideas are not pg-13 and I’m not in the smut writing mood (plus I think I’d rather have that in a separate post but I’m not doing it rn)

[captainmera]

Can I ask if there are any Rå in IBWR and if so, can we have some info on them in that world? (E.g. tomtar, trolls, huldra, etc) Would there be regional differences too throughout the Nordics?

[IBWR comic]

That's a peculiar! Fae-type! :D

(skogs)Rå is the Swedish name for what the English would be a Nymph!

NYMPH (Skogsrå) - PECULIAR TYPE FAE

Their appearance key factors are thus:

Their rainbow eyes are constantly shifting. But more often than not, they will unconsciously take the eye colour of whomever they're speaking to.

POWERS

Their "power" is shapeshifting!

Now, to protect themselves from hunters; it is common practice to cut the tail off on them when they're babies. But doing so means they will have phantom feelings all their life.

Some cut it off when they're older to protect themselves or sell it to a witch-store for money. It's not an easy decision, but poverty is ripe within the peculiar community.

See, this is the "lucky peculiar" because they can easily hide amongst the regulars. A well-trained nymph can go a whole day, if not several days, in a different form.

Transforming into objects, animals, or camouflage with the environment is a skill that must be practised. They can also not become bigger or smaller than they are. Their mass must go somewhere.

They need to have seen a person to be able to copy them.

They can change pigment and hair type/colour, however! Furthermore, they can't produce more hair than they got. So if you see them grow their hair out all of a sudden, you can be sure their tail is currently bald.

Nymphs do not like showing their bald tails, or stumped tails.

Despite being "lucky," they often find themselves in predicaments of others adoration and desire.

UNFORTUNATE

They are popular in Molly houses if they do find themselves in the trade of selling sexual favours. For obvious reasons.

Their mental health is typically in the body dysmorphia areas of mental illness, as they are frequently asked to look a certain way, or feel pressured to morph themselves around. Insecurity is sometimes a fatality and not uncommon.

If it's very bad for them, they can get stuck in a constant morphism and disfigure themselves out of stress. After all, if you think you're ugly, or think you have to be pretty/look like someone else, you can get pretty messed up.

"You are what you think you are." is a common phrase in the nymph community.

SWEDEN

In Sweden, they are called a "rå."

it means "forest rå," Rå is short for "rådde" an old Swedish term for "watching/guardian", so; forest guardian.

There are various types in Sweden of the Rå: Bergsrå (mountain), Sjörå (lake), Gruvrå (mine).

The differentiation of them are not physical. They all look the same and are the same. The categorisation is defined by tribe that they belong to. You can recognise it on their clothes or their jewellery.

Skogsrå will wear leather, green colours and greyish white. Bergsrå will wear gold, red and dark grey, their jewellery is mainly copper. Sjörå will wear beautiful cotton garbs with lots of swirly patterns, often in hues of blue, and silver. Gruvrå wears black, silver, iron, and grey. Their skin is also mostly paler than the others.

................................................

Now you also asked about tomtar and trolls! Those are spirits!

But I will tell you some fun fact about the word "troll" that I have incorporated for Theodore's Swedish heritage as a witch.

The word for "magic" are two in Swedish: Magi and Trolldom.

Magi is pretty directly translated as magic, but the act of doing magic is "to trolla".

Trolldom is directly translated as witchcraft.

But a witch is not "troll" it is "häxa". Because a häxa "hexes" someone with their magic. It is inherently an evil act, while trolldom/witchcraft in and of itself is not evil.

Now in the world of IBWR, witches are seen as good - or rather a necessary evil.

The things you and I would attribute to have been caused by witches (you know, during the various witch trials and what witches were accused of doing). Is historically in IBWR what is applied onto peculiars - attributed to their powers and looks.

Peculiars are seen as half-human, especially in Scandinavia. It is an old pagan belief that the mother of monsters birthed them. Whatever that's true or not, who knows. It's kinda the same sort of shrug-history as humans being descendants of Adam and Eve.

They are thought of naturally causing mayhem, that they lack souls, and that (even if they are christians) are inherently pagan. (there is a huge double standard, as witches are christi-pagan themselves and are not thought of as heretics or evil)

But because of this, peculiars (in Scandinavia) are called Fanskap.

Fanskap is made up by two words: Fan (a nickname for the devil) and Skap (short for "skapad", meaning: something that has been made). So Fanskap means "Made by the devil".

Fanskap is a curse word in Swedish, or it used to be anyway. It's a bit of an old-man thing to say (I still use it, but my Swedish is quite old fashioned).

Peculiars (or in this case, fanskap) seek each other out in Scandinavia, preferably to whatever tribe of rå that will have them. The rå tribes are wealthier with status (often they make little villages in the woods/mountains/etc) and, historically, they and the witches have an understanding.

After all, witches and hunters are sometimes interchangeable. If a peculiar/fanskap fucks up; does a crime or is accused of having done something evil-magi, it can be solved between the witches and the rå-tribe.

----------------

I can't say more than that because I am still developing the Swedish stuff of IBWR, so that last bit might shift a little depending on how things develop when I get to that point. It is very late-game stuff of the story. But this is what I'm willing to share about it. :'D

[transmutationisms]

im a mutual sending this bc i saw you getting hate on that post again but im shy - honestly as a person who used to self-harm when i was younger and still does on infrequent occasions your post was deeply validating.

when i was in intensive care a lot of the time self-harming behavior was automatically conflated with suicidality, when that was never the case for me: i never cut deep enough or in locations where i could have hurt myself in a life-threatening way. cutting was a release valve for extreme stress or feelings of guilt and shame too big to deal with in a "healthy" way at the time because of the circumstances i was in.

ive had to lie to numerous professionals about my self-harming (either the details or that i do it at all) because they assume that i am in need of intensive care and sometimes attempt to institutionalize me instead of listening to me when i say that it's not a risk to my physical health and that there are other far more important factors putting my mental health at risk than the action of self-harm ("poverty" and "being abused", for starters).

also note on my second lil paragraph: although it wasn't the case for me, i feel it necessary to note that i believe people who self-harm due to suicidal ideation or are self-harming in a life-threatening way are also entitled to that agency over their behavior. something that was actually very important for me in dealing with my own suicidality was acknowledging the reality of it. rather than shying away from the question and the idea with "suicide isn't an option" type language, what helped me was framing it as just another choice that i was free to make or not make. it became less taboo and less scary, and therefore easier to deal with because there wasn't as much shame and fear in the mix. what made me stop wanting to kill myself as much as i had before was acknowledging that suicide WAS an option, it just wasn't my BEST option. a similar thing has begun to happen to me with self-harm, now that I've moved out of the abusive situation i grew up in - self-harm is still an option i have in my back pocket for emergencies to deal with feelings, and im allowed to do it, it's just not my best option now that i have more space and time to be myself.

^ 💕

[duchessofostergotlands]

Unfortunately I don’t think higher education helps when it comes to conspiracy theory. I know someone who has two diplomas: history of art and English. And doing its graduate studies. Has classes about intellectual history, history, philosophy etc etc. Full on believes Taylor Swift is secretly lesbian and has fake relationships and was in a relationship with Karlie Kloss. So yeah, at least on this case it didn’t help. When you’re convinced it’s hard to prove it other wise. Because everything proves you right, even if it doesn’t in reality. I think it’s called cognitive dissonance. But yeah, that what’s so scary

Ok so I'm assuming this is in reference to the post about the Hampstead Paedophile Hoax and the fact I said that "poor education is likely to leave people vulnerable to believing (conspiracy theories)." As you'll note there, I didn't mention higher education specifically. But also, what I said is accurate. Study after study has demonstrated a correlation between poor education and belief in conspiracy theories. I didn't say - nor do the studies state - that if you have a university degree you will never ever believe in conspiracies or that if you left school at 16 you'll always believe conspiracy theories. It's just correlation. It just means there's some kind of relationship between the two factors. This is why I said that it leaves people vulnerable to believing conspiracies, not that it alone causes conspiracy theory mindsets. Because there are other factors which can also influence your likelihood of believing conspiracies, like feelings of powerlessness. Anecdotal evidence doesn't change that. If I had said "no one with a degree has ever believed a conspiracy" then your friend's existence would be relevant. But I didn't. And you can't say that the correlation, the connection, doesn't exist at all because you have one friend who doesn't fit.

To use a different example, we know that there is a correlation between your economic status in childhood and your likelihood of having a mental illness as an adult i.e. if you grew up in poverty you're more likely to have a mental illness as an adult. That does not mean that every person who grew up in poverty has a mental illness or that every person who grew up wealthy doesn't have a mental illness, and it doesn't mean every person who has a mental illness grew up in poverty. We know that people are complicated and there are lots of other factors involved. But it's still true that there is a connection.

As for the last bit, sounds like confirmation bias. You see it a lot in people who believe in horoscopes, psychics etc as well. They take a standpoint and everything is either twisted to support what they already believe or they filter out and forget the things that don't support their belief and focus on things that do support it. Cognitive dissonance is the feeling you have when you hold two contradictory beliefs at the same time or when you do something even though it is contrary to a belief you hold. It's basically like your brain's error message. The idea goes that your brain likes things to be consistent and so when you have two opposing ideas or beliefs - and you know they're opposing - your brain doesn't like it and that feeling and the attempts to correct the imbalance is cognitive dissonance. Like I'm a smoker. I know it's gross, it's expensive, it's unhealthy. I still do it. And sometimes I'll sit and think "this is terrible and I should stop" but then I also think "but I like it and I need it and I want to continue." Which causes me distress. That's cognitive dissonance.

[afvenvs3000f24]

Unit 3 Blog Post: Privilege and its Role Within Nature Interpretation

Privilege, in terms of my working definition of it, is an advantage or immunity that can be exclusive to groups or individuals depending on the degree of it. Sometimes, privilege isn't simply assigned to individuals or groups due to physicality; it can also pertain to the state of mind and even decisions (regardless of whether made before or after your birth). Privilege can be pictured as an umbrella given to everyone at birth, but the type of umbrella and its quality depends on physical and mental factors such as your race, health/body functions and mental health. Additionally, the condition of everyone's umbrella depends on your parents and the decisions they made until you were born. Eventually, it will also depend on your own choices in life. An umbrella works well for this hypothetical example because, like privilege, an umbrella is a tool in life that can help and protect you. In this case, it can protect people from getting wet and possibly sick or even help avoid skin damage from the sun on warmer days. Another great use of one's umbrella is to share it and help those who unfortunately were not handed the same cards in life.

Focusing more on nature interpretation, before beginning this course, if you had asked me if I thought privilege played a role in nature interpretation, I wouldn't have given it too much thought and said no. But after reading the blogs and textbook chapters from the past weeks, as well as the unit lessons we've done so far, I've had a more open mind in seeing all the different perspectives of nature interpretation and how each person experiences it. After analyzing my past experiences with nature, recalling my visits to other countries and cities, plus thinking about my education and the extensive knowledge I've gained, all confirmed for me that privilege does play a great role in nature interpretation. As I was reflecting on many blogs from the first unit, many people (including me) mentioned that their families or parents were the ones who offered them a sense of place within nature. Having a close, healthy relationship with those they love and being able to take time off of work and afford to go on many nature trips to share their love for nature through knowledge and guidance is a privilege.

An image I took while on my vacation in Panama, on our way to a boat tour.

Additionally, while I was in Panama this summer visiting family, one of the first things I noticed while travelling around in different neighbourhoods with varying socioeconomic backgrounds, was the difference between available, well-kept green areas. In Costa Del Este (a neighbourhood in Panama City) where my uncle and cousins live, there are large green areas, each having a different specific use for soccer, football, track, biking, hiking, and large parks with beautiful fountains; most of it felt familiar and reminded me of home and the trails I had been on before to some extent. However, this was not the case when we drove by poorer neighbourhoods; many more small houses were occupying the area, and I saw little to no green areas or parks. Even when visiting the local markets in these neighbourhoods, I noticed a lot of litter and thrown garbage down the road in the trees and flowing down rivers; my dad had even spotted a floating fridge getting carried away by the current. This particular visit stuck with me and made me question the injustice of it all leading me to do some research on Panama's state of poverty and education in which I found out that its education is ranked 83 of 144 of the world's worst (Reilly, 2017). Even though there isn't a specific correct way to interpret nature, I strongly believe that it is a privilege in our society to receive enough education and guidance (regardless of whether from an institution or a reputable person) to be able to interpret nature from an outlook of respect and admiration; rather than not thinking twice about how one's trash affects the world.

Once arriving back in Canada, I really took in how privileged I am to live in an area and country with so much greenery and public spaces to be with nature. It also made me realize what a luxury it is to have free time to spend in nature and learn from it rather than having to use that time to work to provide for your family and yourself.

Source:

Reilly, J. (2020, July 17). Rich country, poor people: Life on the rural Panamanian coast - ICWA. Institute of Current World Affairs. https://www.icwa.org/rich-country-poor-people-panama/

[seeminglyseph]

I don't really understand where everybody's finances are, I guess technically, because sometimes it feels really weird to like... join a server to try and meet people and make friends or something and like.. abruptly have to deal with like. Wild accusations about like. The fact that I'm also in a patreon only server that their in, and like. Wow I much spend so much money. Hhmmmmm. Soooo interesting. How can you do that???

And like. I factor my patreons into my bills and budget around it. Like. I gotta be careful, and I can't just spend willy nilly, but like. It's like. A set of expenditures that I like. Plan around, and ultimately, I can make it manageable for the time being. Sometimes, I drop things when financial situations change.

People have gotten so extremely judgemental about other people's spending habits with absolutely no evidence whatsoever. Like. No one is eating the rich, y'all will be eating people who use Door Dash or like... have a hobby.

I live on disability. I'm below the poverty line, man. Other sacrifices get made. But literally, there is no way to know all this from the context of like... "subscribes to a handful of patreons"

Aaaaaa

[nicklloydnow]

“We send our cotton to Manchester and Lowell, our sugar to New York refineries, our hides to down-east tanneries and our children to Yankee colleges, and are ever ready to find fault with the North because it lives by our folly. We want home manufactures and these we must have, if we are ever to be independent.

—Houston Tri-Weekly Telegraph, 1859

This analysis of the Southern economy on the eve of war was classic. In 1861 the Confederate States had a population of just over 9 million, of whom about 3.5 million were slaves. The population of the United States was approximately 22 million. The South had less than half the railroad mileage of the North, and much of this track (of eleven different gauges) connected points of little military or industrial significance. More than four-fifths of the old Union's manufacturing had been carried on in the North. Southern manufactures in 1860 were worth $69 million, as opposed to $388.2 for the Middle states, $223.1 million for New England, and $201.7 million for the West. Moreover, Southern industries included such enterprises as cigar-making and the processing of chewing tobacco, which would not be very useful in making war on the Yankees. In 1860 the Southern states produced 76,000 tons of iron ore, compared to the 2.5 million tons extracted north of Mason and Dixon's Line. And in the same year Southern iron mills processed less than one-sixteenth of the 400,000 tons of iron rolled in the United States. At birth the Confederate South lacked not only an industrial base, but also the skills, raw materials, and transportation to establish war industries.

Southern capital had long been invested in land and slaves, singularly unliquid asserts. The land and slaves produced-they produced raw staples which were useless in the raw and which as a general rule were refined outside the South. On the eve of war Southern soil grew an estimated four-fifths of the world's supply of cotton. Yet Southern cotton mills were valued in 1860 at about one-tenth of the total valuation of cotton mills in the United States. And armies could neither wear nor shoot cotton bales. Southern farmers raised cattle, but Southern leather products in 1860 were worth $4 million as opposed to $59 million in the rest of the country. Southern farmers raised hemp, but the Confederacy suffered from a severe shortage of rope. There were some sheep in the upper South in 1860, but Southerners had invested $1.3 million in woolen mills compared to $35 million elsewhere in the United States. From the height of hindsight, then, we can see that the Southern agrarian economy in 1861 offered little to a blockaded Southern nation about to engage in protracted, total war. To grasp the economic revolution wrought by the Confederate experience we must constantly recall the military-industrial poverty of its origins.

We must emphasize also two other constants on the liability side of the Confederate balance sheet—the economic role of the Southern army and the rampant inflation which characterized Southern fiscal policy. Both of these factors are and were obvious, but so obvious as to be often overlooked.

Of the 9 million Confederates in 1861, approximately 1,280,000 were of military age, that is, white males between fifteen and fifty years old. Eventually the Confederacy mobilized approximately 850,000 men. With this army marched the Confederacy's hopes of nationhood. Yet an army is essentially a consumer; it produces only security and in the case of the Confederacy sometimes not much of that. The Southern army consumed food, clothing, ordnance, transportation, livestock forage, and more. And of course it consumed these things at a rate much higher than an equivalent number of civilians. Still in an economic context, every Southern consumer-soldier was one less badly needed producer. And this removal of producers from the Confederate economy hurt not only the South's incipient industrial efforts, but also her agriculture.

The other chronic crisis which plagued the Confederate economy involved the spiraling inflation of the currency. On this subject Charles W. Ramsdell has concluded, "If I were asked what was the greatest single weakness of the Confederacy, I should say, without much hesitation, that it was in this matter of finances. The resort to irredeemable paper money and to excessive issues of such currency was fatal, for it weakened not only the purchasing power of the government but also destroyed economic security among the people." The Confederate government, under the guidance of Secretary of the Treasury Christopher G. Memminger, tried to finance the war effort at one time or another by loans, bonds, taxation, and confiscation. When all else failed the Confederacy unleashed the printing presses, flooded the country with fiat currency, and then tried to stay the inflationary spiral by repudiating a portion of its own currency. The effect of the government's monetary policy on Confederate Southerners was incalculable. Wages never kept pace with prices, and salaried men knew genuine privation. Military reverses after 1862 further undermined what shaky faith was left in the currency. In desperation the Treasury Department issued currency "legal tender for all debts private," not public. A government which refused to accept its own money did not exactly inspire soaring confidence. Confederate fiscal policy was characterized by some realism, some blunders, and a pervading illusion that the war would soon be over. It is tempting to scoff at such chaos. But Ramsdell himself conceded, "If you then ask me how, under the conditions which existed in April, 1861, the Confederate government could have avoided this pitfall, I can only reply that I do not know."

Alongside the external problems posed by the length of the war and the federal blockade, the hard facts of Confederate economic life were: (I) the warring South inherited a staple-crop, agrarian economy; (2) inflationary currency was inevitable for a nation trying to carry on a war with only $27 million in "hard" money; and (3) to exist the South depended upon a large armed body of consumers. These liabilities, internal and external, conditioned the economic response to what became a war of attrition. Yet that response, when compared to the antebellum status quo, constituted nothing less than an economic revolution. In contrast to the economy of the Old South, the Confederate Southern economy was characterized by the decline of agriculture, the rise of industrialism, and the rise of urbanization.” - Emory M. Thomas, ‘The Confederacy as a Revolutionary Experience’ (1970) [p. 79 - 82]