#surge in flu cases

[strangerboykamal]

The flu season is upon us, and according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), flu activity is currently high across many parts of the United States. As we approach the peak of flu season, it’s essential to stay informed about the spread of the virus and take proactive steps to protect yourself and your loved ones. Tracking flu activity can help you understand the severity of the situation, the areas most affected, and how to adjust your plans accordingly. In this post, we’ll discuss how to monitor flu activity and what you can do to stay safe.

[raeathnos]

.

[genderqueerdykes]

the COVID 2024-2025 vaccine is now available in some areas, please look into getting yours ASAP

i am a COVID survivor who is dealing with long COVID and permanent lung damage due to having caught the virus in October of 2023. this isn't a flu or a cold. this disease causes serious, permanent long term damage. i'm still struggling with even worse brain fog than i already had previously and sometimes it becomes extremely hard for me to breathe, even in good conditions.

COVID has been surging like crazy in the US this summer due to folks socializing more closely and masking no longer being required in most places. social distancing does not happen here anymore. we need to protect ourselves even while there are not mandates and rules in place stating that you MUST be masked (you still should be masking).

the CDC is stating that everyone ages 6 months and older should get the 2024–2025 COVID-19 vaccine:

even if you have been vaccinated in the past you still need to keep up with current vaccines as their protection decreases over time, and COVID continues to mutate and become different strains that are resistant to previous vaccines. staying up to date and masking are the only ways to stay safe. viruses mutate to adapt to their hosts, and COVID is no different.

there are currently 5 variants of the Omicron strain of COVID that are responsible for the uptick in recent cases:

from a COVID survivor who doesn't want to go through this shit a second time: vaccinate. wear your masks. wash your hands. social distance. quarantine when sick. take this seriously. it's been 4 years and COVID has done nothing but prove it is here to stay unless we make a huge change in our society.

[lunarlianna]

Pluto generations

Aries (1823 - 1851)

The presence of Pluto in Aries defines a generation marked by a pioneering and assertive spirit, reflecting a profound longing for independence. Those influenced by this placement often take on key roles in instigating social change and revolutionizing established systems. Historical events from 1823 to 1852, such as the Wars for Latin American Independence, the First Opium War, and the Women's Rights Convention, exemplify the transformative impact of this astrological configuration.

Taurus (1852 - 1881)

Pluto's position in Taurus defines a generation characterized by unwavering perseverance, determination, and a profound connection to the material realm. These individuals prioritize stability, security, and the sustainable use of resources, leaving a lasting imprint on economic systems and environmental consciousness. Notably, during Pluto's transit in Taurus, the Industrial Revolution surged forward, marked by the rise of corporate structures in industries like railroads and steam engines.

Gemini (1882 – 1913)

The generation under the influence of Pluto in Gemini witnessed the dawn of the Second Industrial Revolution, aptly named the Technological Revolution. These individuals, marked by intellectual curiosity and adaptability, excelled in communication and media, significantly shaping cultural and technological progress. The era marked the birth of influential figures like John Maynard Keynes and Benito Mussolini, along with German scientist Robert Koch's identification of the tuberculosis bacterium. Notably, the First World War occurred during this period, bringing significant changes in all areas of life.

Cancer (1914 -1938)

Pluto in Cancer signifies a generation characterized by deep emotional sensitivity, nurturing instincts, and strong family values. Living through World War I, the Spanish flu pandemic, and the Great Depression, they grew up in a challenging era that shaped their conservative outlook. This generation, often referred to as the "Greatest Generation," prioritized family, spirituality, and adherence to societal norms. While their emphasis on politeness and chivalry had positive aspects, it also gave rise to dark elements such as sexist gender roles, racial segregation, and cultural supremacy.

Leo (1939 – 1958)

Pluto in Leo defines a generation marked by a quest for self-expression, creativity, and a hunger for recognition. Born during historical events like the Nazi invasion of Poland and the Battle of Stalingrad, these individuals challenged authority, imprinting their influence on art, entertainment, and leadership styles. Ruled by the Sun, Pluto in Leo symbolizes a fresh start after periods of war and chaos, fostering a sense of self-value and confidence. This prideful, generous, and naturally leadership-oriented generation, however, tends to resist change and stands firm in their philosophies as a fixed sign.

Virgo (1957 – 1971)

Pluto in Virgo defines a generation marked by a robust work ethic, practicality, and an innate drive for perfection. Born during pivotal events such as the first documented AIDS cases and Martin Luther King Jr.'s iconic "I Have a Dream" speech, these individuals contribute to societal shifts in health, wellness, and environmental consciousness. Ruled by Mercury, Pluto in Virgo emphasizes efficiency and hard work, fostering reliability, trustworthiness, and empathy. This generation focuses on rebuilding and technology, epitomizing an era of research and preparation, notably during the Cold War.

Libra (1972 – 1983)

Pluto in Libra defines a generation marked by a profound yearning for harmony, justice, and equality. With Venusian qualities, these individuals are inherently social, compassionate, and value connections with others. The events during their time, such as the end of the Vietnam War, the introduction of VHS, and the rise of personal computers, align with their commitment to justice and duty for the collective. This generation, while not necessarily seeking radical societal reshaping, is more focused on preserving law and order, offering assistance to those in need, and rectifying wrongs through the pursuit of justice.

Scorpio (1984 – 1995)

Pluto in Scorpio defines a generation marked by intensity, depth, and profound transformation, playing a pivotal role in societal shifts related to power dynamics, sexuality, and psychological exploration. While the preceding Pluto in Libra generation advocated for balance, Pluto in Scorpio pushed the limits, ushering in events like the Gulf War, the end of the Cold War, and the advent of the World Wide Web. Resilient and empowered, they navigated constant transformations, developing a keen ability to adapt and thrive through each metamorphosis. This generation also contributed to a shifting cultural perspective on sexuality.

Sagittarius (1996 – 2008)

Pluto in Sagittarius shapes a generation marked by a thirst for knowledge, cultural exchange, and a global perspective, contributing significantly to societal shifts in education, philosophy, and belief systems. This generation, embodies the archer's bravery and fearlessness, fostering a spirit of rebellion and outspokenness. Sagittarius' affinity for networking and socializing with individuals from various nations aligns with the rise of the internet, a tool that facilitates global connectivity. Key events during this period include the successful cloning of Dolly the sheep, the introduction of the Euro to financial markets, and the groundbreaking launch of the iPhone in 2007.

Capricorn (2008 – 2023)

Pluto in Capricorn defines a generation marked by ambition, pragmatism, and a distinct focus on challenging traditional structures, leading to transformative changes in politics, business, and governance. Ruled by Saturn, this era, encompassing events such as the launch of Bitcoin, the Syrian civil war, Edward Snowden's revelations on mass surveillance, and the COVID-19 pandemic, unfolded amidst the Great Recession and the rise of social media. The influence of Saturn instils a commitment to rules, regulations, and social changes that align with a desire for structure and order.

Aquarius (2024 – 2044)

Pluto in Aquarius heralds a generation marked by innovation, individuality, and an impassioned pursuit of freedom and social progress. The current era unfolds amid a new global order, carrying both anticipation and uncertainty. Emerging from the constraining Capricorn era, Aquarius brings a promise of hope, healing, and a future-focused mindset.

Pisces (2044 – 2067)

Pluto in Pisces gives rise to a generation marked by empathy, spirituality, and a deepening of the collective consciousness, contributing to societal shifts in compassion, art, and transcendence. As one era concludes and another begins, this period signals the resurgence of spirituality, with people connecting profoundly to the universe through meditation and prayer. Anticipated as a peaceful time with minimal conflict, technological progress may temporarily slow after the Aquarius era's boom. This wise generation is poised to challenge traditional norms, potentially leading to the disappearance of gender roles, marking a significant chapter in human evolution.

[covidsafecosplay]

This Week in Covid & Health News (Posted November 14, 2024)

Covid-Safe Cosplay and its admin are unaffiliated with any of the sites or authors linked below, we're simply sharing the information. If you have related news links that we missed, especially in other languages, please share either in the comments or a reblog.

General

San Fransisco Chronicle: Sonoma County reinstates mask mandate for health care workers amid rising illnesses (Nov. 12, 2024)

NPR: What happens when a vaccine skeptic leads health policy? Ask Florida (Nov. 13, 2024)

Covid-19

The Beacon: Weathered COVID before? Scientists say every new infection puts you at risk of getting long COVID (Nov. 11, 2024)

CIDRAP: Cardiac inflammation markers show role of long-COVID symptoms (Nov. 12, 2024)

Cleveland: Having COVID-19 doubles long-term risk of heart attack, stroke, new Clinic study suggests (Nov. 13, 2024)

Avian Flu

Hawaii News Now: Avian flu detected on Oahu for the first time ever (Nov. 12, 2024)

CNN: Canadian teen in critical condition with bird flu; source of exposure is unknown (Nov. 13, 2024)

Global News: As bird flu emerges in Canada, experts urge preparedness (Nov. 13, 2024)

Stat: Canadian teen's bird flu infection is not the version found in cows (Nov. 13, 2024)

Fortune: Canadian teenager in critical condition with presumptive bird flu as U.S. official warns the virus 'seems to be gearing up for wider impact' (Nov. 13, 2024)

TIME: Is It Time to Worry About Bird Flu? (Nov. 13, 2024)

Whooping Cough

WPRI: 4 Portsmouth High School students have 'very contagious' whooping cough (Nov. 12, 2024)

ABC News: Washington state sees 'sharp increase' in whooping cough cases, mirroring rise across US (Nov. 12, 2024)

KHOU: Whooping cough cases surge in Texas, across country in 2024, DSHS says (Nov. 12, 2024)

KOIN: Whooping cough, chickenpox outbreaks hit Clark County schools (Nov. 12, 2024)

The Spokesman-Review: Six Spokane County residents hospitalized with whooping cough during outbreak (Nov. 12, 2024)

Fox KTVU: Bay Area surge in whooping cough; some counties see highest numbers in decade (Nov. 13, 2024)

CNY Central: Health officials warn of increased whooping cough spread in local schools (Nov. 14, 2024)

Walking Pneumonia

CDC: Mycoplasma Pneumoniae Infections Have Been Increasing (Oct. 18, 2024)

WTOP: Urgent care centers report 'unprecedented' spike in walking pneumonia cases around DC area (Nov. 14, 2024)

[alwaysmoncheri]

summary: you’re sick and spencer takes the day off of work to take care of you

cw: female!reader, cheesy writing, throwing up, spencer being an all around sweetheart, 782, spencer reid x reader

<3

you wake up with a pounding headache and a throat scratchier than sandpaper. the flu has taken residence in your body, and you feel utterly defeated. but you refuse to take a day off of work. so you somehow manage to stumble into the bau office, feeling the weight of sickness pulling you down. spencer glances up from his desk, concern etching his features. he notices your pale complexion and furrowed brows.

"hey," he says softly, rising from his chair as you pass by. "you don't look so good. are you okay?" he asks, as you slowly sit down into your chair and lean back with a pained expression.

you shake your head, managing a weak smile. “just a bit under the weather. i’ll be fine." you say and spencer sends you a questioning glance but believes you nonetheless.

as you attempt to settle into your workspace, working on paper, and glancing through files, the queasiness intensifies. numerous co-workers glance you way, the concerned expressions watching you from behind their desks. when you come across a particularly gruesome file you feel the contents of your breakfast surging up from your stomach and panicking, you reach for your desk drawer, contemplating using it as a makeshift trash can.

spencer, quick to understand the situation, rushes over, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. "no, no, honey, don't throw up in there." he whispers, gently, rushed, but profusely worried.

more panic sets in as you glance around the office, desperately searching for an alternative. spencer, ever resourceful, leads you to the nearest restroom. you make it just in time, sparing your desk from an unpleasant fate.

"maybe you should go home, take the day off," he suggests, one hand rubbing soothing circles on your back while the other holding your hair back.

you shake your head, determined to soldier on despite the discomfort. "I can't let the team down. we’ve got a case and i’ve got a job to do.”

spencer looks torn between concern and understanding. “if it gets worse, i’ll take you home, okay?” asks and you nod, grateful for his caring nature.

the day unfolds, each passing hour adding to your misery. spencer keeps a watchful eye on you, offering water and snacks in an attempt to alleviate your symptoms. however, nothing seems to be enough.

during a briefing, your stomach rebels, and you struggle to maintain composure. spencer notices your distress, placing a steadying hand on your shoulder. you manage a weak smile, appreciating his support. as the team delves into the case details, you focus on breathing steadily, determined not to let your illness hinder the investigation. but when your face goes a shade lighter than it was before and you look as though you’re about to pass out, spencer quickly gathers your belongings and takes your burning hand in his.

"okay, honey, I think it's time for you to go home," he insists, his worry palpable.

you nod, grateful for his insistence. as you head towards the exit, spencer supports you, making sure you don't stumble. the team watches, puzzled, as you leave unexpectedly.

once outside, spencer uides you to his car, helping you settle into the passenger seat. he drives you home, his concern evident in the glances he steals between navigating traffic.

when you reach your doorstep, you fumble for your keys, but spencer intervenes, unlocking the door for you. once inside, you collapse onto the couch, relieved to be in the comfort of your home. spencer settles beside you, offering a comforting presence. spencer retrieves a blanket, covering you gently. "rest up. I'll make some tea and check on you in a bit."

“thank you, spence.” you whisper gently before falling into much-needed sleep.

the next morning, you wake up feeling slightly better. your pounding headache is gone and you stomach doesn’t seem to feel as queasy as it had the day before. spencer who stayed the night, much to your surprise, greets you with a warm smile.

"how are you feeling?" he asks, the same concern from yesterday lingering in his eyes. he kneels in front of you and brings his hand up to brush your hair away from your face.

"better, thanks to you," you reply, genuinely appreciative of his care.

spencer chuckles softly and you can’t help but examine the crinkle of his eyes and soft curve of his lips. “well, it’s the least I can do. but you’re still not going into work today. and i’m staying right here until you’re all better.” he adds, pivoting on his heels, grabbing a cup of tea from the coffee table behind him and offering it to you. you can’t help but smile.

“okay, doc.”

<3

masterlist . spencer reid masterlist . taglist

thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!

alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

[vague-humanoid]

Cases are low right now for one simple reason: most people have recently had COVID. If not during the massive winter JN.1 surge, which infected an estimated 100 million people, then in the previous variant-soup wave of late summer 2023. COVID infections confer a temporary immunity, meaning that after a big surge- when tens of millions of people are infected in a matter of months- the public has a transient “wall” of immunity that lowers transmission in the short-term. Celebrating lulls that were “bought” with a surge is celebrating the successful mass infection of the public, thousands of new Long COVID cases, overall worsened health of the public, and tens of thousands of dead people. That’s the cost of every lull that wasn’t earned with policy.

75,603 people died of COVID in 2023 according to death certificates, which is certainly an undercount. (I would note that death certificate flu was 5,999, also a significant undercount and not the number the CDC uses when reporting flu burden). But let’s take the 75k number at face value and provide some perspective about this level of mortality.

75,603 deaths in one year makes COVID the infectious disease killing the most people in the US by far, and likely to remain so.

@startorrent02

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

Calm-mongers 2021-2024: "If covid isn't mild, we'd see hospitals across the world clogged with other diseases like flu and RSV!"

2025: *Barely started and hospitals are clogged with at least 5 viral illnesses and more pneumonia cases than they've ever seen*

The same calm-mongers in 2025: "What is HAPPENING!?!?!?!"

[feminist-space]

December 15th, 2023

"Hospitals and emergency rooms could be forced to ration care by the end of this month, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention warned Thursday, saying recent trends in COVID-19 and influenza are now on track to again strain America's health care system. The new COVID variant JN.1 is making up an increasing share of cases, the CDC's tracking shows."

[spooniestrong]

In case you don't follow wastewater collection or covid testing blogs, I'm letting you know we're in the throes of a new surge. Coupled with the news of China & France dealing with a new strain of childhood pneumonia, I think it's safe to say... I told you so.

Covid isn't over.

Wear a mask.

Get your boosters.

Get your flu shot.

Stay home unless you absolutely have to go out.

[capndiaz]

Buck grapples with some difficult news following what was supposed to be a routine appointment, forcing him into a situation that reminds him all too well of the one that ended with him trying to sue the LAFD.

“I’m still calling Maddie, by the way,” Chimney says, a kind smirk on his face. “There’s no way you’re staying here and working the rest of your shift like this.”

Buck doesn’t refuse, and it’s still just as unsettling as the first time; Chimney isn’t entirely convinced that the man hasn’t been replaced by some sort of imposter. It’s unnerving to watch him not even make an attempt to argue against it. This is the same guy who has scaled an elevator shaft fuelled on nothing but one hour of sleep over the space of three days and pure unadulterated spite, who has rushed into a five-alarm fire despite the gnarliest case of strep throat Chimney has ever seen in his life, who has worked forty-eight hours straight trying not to cough up a lung and with a one-oh-two fever during the height of flu season. 

The fact that he isn’t putting up a fight at the suggestion of going home is evidence of the fact that something really is wrong and Chimney can’t help but notice that it’s almost as if Buck had already admitted defeat long ago; like he had walked into the firehouse knowing well in advance that he wasn’t showing up to finish out his shift, like he knew he would be leaving just as quickly as he came in. 

Buck takes a deep breath, seemingly expecting another wave of panic to surge through him but surprised to find his breath hasn’t been stolen just yet.

“I know I can’t work today,” he whispers, as if not quite believing it himself yet as he lifts his head, still somehow breathing despite the fact it feels like his chest is about to cave in. “I might not ever be able to work again, Chim.” 

[therottenkingsreckoning]

Right, we're actually doing this.

I'm super nervous posting something like this, but with the encouragement of friends I feel ready to share with y'all the first chapter of this Franklydear mpreg fluff-fic I've been writing! Might post more chapters if reception to this one turns out to be good, but for now, have this!

~Little Flame, Chapter 1~

It began on a day like any other. That's when Frank first began to notice it anyway. He woke slowly, morning light streaming in from a crack in the blinds directly into his face. Combined with the strange coiling pain inside their gut, it made being awake on this particular morning rather unpleasant. Sensing his lover's stirring, Eddie tried to pull them close, but the same awful pain made Frank pull away.

Of course, that definitely woke the man up. Frank was never one to refuse the morning cuddles of his husband, in fact he cherished them more than anything else. "You feeling alright love?" Eddie asked, the rumble of sleep mixed with gentle and loving concern in his voice.

"Mm, s-sorry dear, " Frank said, sitting up and gently rubbing the sore spot in his stomach. "I feel a little nauseous right now. Don't know why."

"Nauseous?" Eddie was wide awake now, sitting up himself and looking worriedly at his partner. "Was it something you ate maybe? I hope my cooking's not that bad." The last line was added with a dry and awkward chuckle, clearly hoping to lighten the mood they'd woken up to a little bit.

"No! No, those were delicious," Frank assured him quickly, thinking back to the tacos his husband had made last night. Eddie really was an excellent cook, though the stress of his job often left him with little energy for such things. It was a treat to be enjoyed whenever he did have time to cook. Unfortunately for Frank though, thinking about food at the moment was a bad idea.

With a surge and squeeze of their insides, Frank was sent leaping off the bed, rushing into the bathroom just in time to throw up in the sink. Staring weakly up at his reflection, a sorry sight met them- bleary eyed, hair still in tangles, mouth wet with drool and leftover puke. What did Eddie even find appealing about such a wreck? Why would anyone look at this and not want to vomit themselves?

The pain had begun to subside, fading into a dullish ache in his lower gut, but they still inexplicably felt like he wanted to cry. What was with them right now? Pushing the irrational feelings down for the moment, he turned just in time to see the sheepish face of Eddie poking through the bathroom door. "Now I know that ain't right," he said with genuine worry. "You're clearly sick Frankie, I really hope it wasn't me that caused it."

That got the floodgates open on Frank's emotions. How much he loved and was loved by this man! Such simple gestures of care might as well have been heroic acts in their mind right now, and he almost reached to embrace and kiss him. But then, remembering the taste of bile on his lips, they turned back to brush their teeth quickly, a toothbrush-munching smile thrown his way around the drying tears.

"If's pr'lly jus' flu," Frank said.

Eddie was clearly not yet convinced (and more than little bit confused by this point) but some more gentle reassurance convinced him to leave it be for the moment. It probably was just a case of the flu, it was the right season for it.

Once they'd finally shooed the man off on his work route with promises to rest and recover, Frank fell onto the living room couch, finally allowing himself to feel the full extent of the sudden pain. Their back was killing him since they'd woken up this morning, and the peristent throbbing pain of his guts had shifted into their womb. That part felt reassuringly familiar. Maybe it was caused in part by his period starting again. He was due for one soon.

Actually...they were overdue.

The thought struck him like an arrow to the chest. The nausea, the cramps, the weird mood swings...the missed period. Could he be...

Shaking slightly, Frank's hands raked through his messy morning hair, tangling it further as they held his head steady and fought the urge to throw up yet again.

You don't know that's the case, they chastised himself, It...it could be the flu, like you said. Or a hormone imbalance.

But what if he was pregnant? How would the two take care of children? Did Eddie even want them? Frank certainly wasn't opposed to the idea, but it had always been in the abstract, "one day" vibes, not it actually happening!

Slowly, they forced himself to breathe and calm their swirling mind. I need to think about this logically, he thought.

There was really only one way of knowing for sure, of course. He'd need to buy a test from Howdy's shop. But he couldn't do that. The mere idea was agony. Frank wasn't out to most of the neighbors, at least not in regards to his sex. Julie knew, of course, she'd been there since before their transition, helped get him their first dose of T and worked odd jobs to pay for his top surgery. And Eddie knew. He definitely knew all that by now. As far as the others were aware though, Frank might as well have been AMAB. It was none of their business anyway.

But now it seemed, one more would have to be made aware. If I'm not I can finally relax and be sick, Frank told himself, steeling themselves for the journey. And if I am...

What would they even do? How would they possibly take care of a child, the responsibilities, the stress? And before they even got to that, the idea of birthing one! The pain and stress and mess of it! That was-

"Meow."

Frank looked up suddenly from where they'd curled up on the couch, eyes still speckled with the anxious tears as they met the soft black face of Bacon, their cat. Behind her, brothers Egg and Cheese soon followed, seemingly drawn to comfort their nervous parent. Or maybe they just wanted him to feed them. Whatever the reason, he was grateful they were there. Anything to get their mind off things.

Gently patting and kissing each, Frank stumbled to their feet and wandered into the kitchen for food, both his own and the cats'. The trip to Howdy's would happen, it had to. But maybe not yet.

[sataniccapitalist]

The United States has recorded its first ever fatality from infection with the H5N1 “bird flu” virus. The virus has been circulating in bird and mammalian populations throughout the nation and the world, especially among commercial poultry flocks and cattle herds in the US. This is the first fatality in a total of 66 confirmed human cases in the US to date.

[longhaulerbear]

We’ve Hit Peak Denial. Here’s Why We Can’t Turn Away From Reality

We are living through a terrible time in humanity. Here’s why we tend to stick our heads in the sand and why we need to pull them out, fast

If it seems like things are kind of off these days, you’re not alone. Recently, more than 100,000 people liked a post marking the start of the pandemic that said, “[Four] years ago, this week was the last normal week of our lives.”

Objectively speaking, we are living through a dumpster fire of a historical moment. Right now more than one million people are displaced and at risk of starvation in Gaza, as are millions more in Sudan. Wars are on the rise around the globe, and 2023 saw the most civilian casualties in almost 15 years.

H5N1 bird flu has jumped to cows, several farm workers have been infected, and scientists are warning about another potential pandemic. According to data from wastewater, the second biggest COVID surge occurred this winter. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention estimates at least 24,000 people have died of COVID so far in 2024.

Last year was the hottest ever and recorded the highest number of billion-dollar weather and climate disasters. Not to mention that over the past few years, mass shootings have significantly increased, we’ve seen unparalleled attacks on democracy and science, and mental health issues have skyrocketed.

Truth be told, things were bananas even before the pandemic: just think of the Great Recession, the 2009 swine flu pandemic, and Brexit. Academics use terms like “polycrisis” and “postnormal times” to describe the breadth and scale of the issues we now face.

Welcome to the new normal, an age where many things that we used to deem unusual or unacceptable have become just what we live with. Concerningly, though, “living with it” means tolerating greater suffering and instability than we used to, often without fully noticing or talking about it. When authorities tell us to “resume normal activities” after an on-campus shooting or give guidance on how to increase our heat tolerance in an ever-hotter world, we may sense that something is awry even as we go along with it.

But what happens when overlooking and tolerating greater levels of harm becomes a shared cultural habit? Like the proverbial frog in boiling water, we acclimate to ignoring more and caring less at our own peril. In the short term, living in a state of peak denial helps us cope. In the long run, it will be our undoing. Because the danger here is desensitization: that we meet this unprecedented litany of “wicked problems,” from climate change to the rise of fascism, with passive acceptance rather than urgent collective action.

How does this happen? How do we overlook and become hardened to bad things, especially in this scientific and technological age, when we’ve never been more capable of understanding and addressing them? To resist complacency, we must first understand how it operates.

Social scientists have long investigated the social organization of denial or how we collectively achieve reality-adjacent lives in which we do not recognize serious problems or they are made to seem normal. What research has found is that a key way we come to “not see” social problems that should beg for our attention is that disturbing or threatening information is neutralized or evaded.

COVID is a good case study for illustrating the “Collective Denial Playbook” that underpins our new normal reality.

A common strategy to neutralize a social problem is to make knowing about it hard, often by restricting efforts to look into it, like scaling back COVID tracking. In April the CDC ended the requirement that hospitals report COVID admissions and occupancy data, removing one of the last tools we could use to monitor what’s happening. “We now enter the blackout phase of epidemiology” wrote science journalist Laurie Garrett on X, adding: “There will be patients, but their numbers and whereabouts will be unknown….” Disappearing is also accomplished by not alerting the public. For example, during the winter surge, we heard “crickets from the White House.” In fact, as COVID positivity and death rates rose, tweets from CDC director Mandy Cohen decreased.

If the COVID situation is tracked and the public warned, things don’t feel normal. But if we don’t monitor or mention it, then things can feel “back to normal”—fine, even.

Another tactic is minimization. How we describe and measure things shapes how we feel about them. Which is why it’s important to notice when neutralizing language enters the chat. For some time now, turns of phrase like “endemic” and “during COVID” have been common vernacular. So have refrains like “lower hospitalizations than last year.” All of this gives off an “it’s just a cold,” “mission accomplished” vibe, casting the disease into a worry-free zone that’s safely behind us.

This minimization keeps the quiet part quiet: that “the world is still in a pandemic” per the WHO; that more than 73,000 Americans died of COVID in 2023, a higher number than from car accidents or influenza; among those infected, 9 percent and counting have long COVID, a serious and often disabling condition with a disease burden comparable to cancer or heart disease, and an economic cost rivaling the Great Recession, and for which there are no approved treatments. What’s more, each infection is associated with a substantially increased risk of health issues like cognitive dysfunction, autoimmune disease and cardiovascular problems, even for mild infections.

Pre-pandemic, these statistics would have been eye-popping. Now they constitute “back to normal.” We think we no longer have a problem, when actually we’ve just changed the standard by which we deem something concerning.

Yet, to shore up collective denial, we often do more than revise the present; we also rewrite the past. So not only do we reiterate that we are better off now, we claim things were never that bad. This sort of “forgetting work,” or contesting the past to remove unwanted memories, produces a cultural amnesia about the pandemic. And in burying the past, we sidestep accountability for what went wrong and preserve the status quo by failing to implement lessons learned from our own history.

Finally, truth tellers are the Achilles heel of collective denial because they call attention to what’s swept under the rug. Thus another playbook tactic is to hush them up, often by painting them as subversives or deviants. And so those who wear masks are ridiculed, scientists reporting on COVID-19 risks are cast as fearmongers, and those with long COVID are dismissed as having anxiety disorders.

Time and again, society pressures people not to see, hear or speak about the elephant in the room. To maintain our own “cognitive tranquility,” we tune out, malign and shoot the messenger because they remind us of what we would rather disregard. Just look at physician Ignaz Semmelweis, environmentalist Rachal Carson and NFL player and social justice advocate Colin Kaepernick. Indeed, people are regularly punished for being accurate.

These tactics are how we get used to so many bad things, from mega-fires to insurrections.

So what can we do about our “Ignore more, care less, everything is fine!” era? We need to stop enabling it. This starts by being more attuned to our “everyday ignoring” and “everyday bystanding”—like that pinch we feel when we know we should click through a concerning headline, but instead scroll past it.

We need to work harder to catch ourselves in the act of staying silent or avoiding uncomfortable information and do more real-time course correcting.

We need to guard against lowering our standards for normalcy. When we mentally and emotionally recalibrate to the new normal, we also disassociate from our own humanity.

We need to demand that our leaders give the full truth and hold them to account. We must stand up for the silenced and stand with the silence-breakers.

To counter the new normal’s assault on normalcy, we must double down on our duty to know, to speak up, and to remember.

This is an opinion and analysis article, and the views expressed by the author or authors are not necessarily those of Scientific American.

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom. It got a bit more heated than I intended. As always, I blame the boys...

Note: mature content.

Taking advantage

It’s been fourteen days and seven hours since he last kissed and held Sherlock in his arms. The whole business is hateful to say the least. John’s been bedridden with the flu and hasn’t been able to join Sherlock on this case until now. 

Lestrade’s given him a ride to the estate, and one of the staff, who’s a friend of Sherlock’s parents, shows John to a dressing room. To blend in with the other guests, John’s apparently expected to dress up. He curses silently, but the thought of seeing Sherlock again, makes it all worth while, or so John hopes.

John feels ridiculous in his costume, but not a soul in the dining room lifts an eyebrow when he enters. Probably because everyone present also wears clothes from another era. There are no smartphones, electrical lighting, women in trousers; nothing that reminds one of that they actually live in the 21st century. 

John gets a glimpse of himself in a mirror and startles. It’s hard to get used to how different he looks. His shirt is white and ruffled. That garment alone makes him blush. The jacket is light green with golden embroidery, his breeches are white and made of silk, as are his stockings. It took some time getting used to walk in shoes with heels, but needs must, and John thinks he’s pulled it off thus far. And there’s of course the perk of being almost at Sherlock’s height, because Sherlock’s dressed as a servant, and his shoes are his own black ones.

He searches the room and finds Sherlock in the far corner, standing perfectly still like a statue. Only his eyes are wandering and scrutinising the people attending the event. As John moves closer, the candles in the candlesticks on the wall, flicker. The movement catches Sherlock’s eyes and they widen when he sees John approach him. He swallows hard, and John has a difficult time trying to hide his smirk. Seeing Sherlock this affected by his presence, dressed in the baroque-like costume, makes John’s stomach do a somersault. Sherlock’s eyes don’t seem to find John’s attire ridiculous at all. His tongue darts out to lick those perfect lips, and John feels a blush rise up his neck. 

“Meet me upstairs in the dressing room in ten minutes,” Sherlock whispers almost inaudibly.

John gives a tiny nod and makes another circuit through the room before he slips out and walks up the carpeted stairs. He shivers with anticipation and a jolt of lust surges through his body with the thought of meeting Sherlock in mere minutes. It’s been ages!

While John waits, he remembers how the candles in the dining room had highlighted the auburn in Sherlock’s curls and how his alabaster skin had seemed almost glowing.

His breeches are gentler with his growing erection than his normal jeans. There’s more room in the silky trousers. John misses the pressure. This feels like he’s not properly hard for Sherlock, but when his hand strokes the front of the silky fabric, he finds his penis ready and waiting.

Sirens and shouting can be heard from downstairs. 

Lestrade and the Yard’s finest have arrived. 

Outside the dressing room, hurried but silent steps are heard. And then the door opens and Sherlock’s where he belongs. In John’s arms. They kiss frantically, desperate and filthy with tongues and teeth.

“God, I’ve missed you!” Sherlock exclaims and bites John’s earlobe.

“Yeah, me too. Your voice, your hands, you,” John pants, and desperately tries to pull Sherlock’s shirt free from his trousers to get access to bare skin.

Sherlock’s moan when John’s hands slide up his torso and find his nipples, is obscene. John takes advantage of being almost as tall as Sherlock wearing heels and cups his face. He looks him straight in the eyes without needing to strain his neck.

“Promise me that we never have to be apart for a fortnight again, Sherlock. Ever! Do you even know how much I’ve…”

Sherlock interrupts him with a deep and feverish kiss, then kisses John’s forehead, nose and cheeks. Their eyes lock and there’s nothing else but the two of them in the whole world.

“Never again, John. Now allow me to help you get rid of this,” Sherlock murmurs and palms John’s erection carefully.

“God, yes,” John sighs relieved and gives himself over to Sherlock’s deft fingers, tongue and lips.

@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @a-victorian-girl @phoenix27884 @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitchworld @peanitbear @helloliriels

[helix-enterprises117]

Halo Reloaded: Armor Up

The Spartan-II training facility's halls were usually the kind of place where silence went to die, punctuated by the constant march of boots and the stern commands of instructors. But today, they echoed with a different sort of rhythm: the slightly off-kilter stride of John-117.

Decked out in the Spartan equivalent of "casual Friday" attire – which, to be honest, still looked like something you could parachute behind enemy lines in – John was a study in youthful determination, albeit with a side of lingering awkwardness unique to 14-year-olds. The Spartan augmentation process had been a rollercoaster that none of them were eager to ride again.

Most of his fellow super-soldiers-to-be treated the ordeal like a mildly inconvenient flu, bouncing back in four days with little more to show for it than a new ability to bench-press a warthog. John, however, had been on the receiving end of the cosmos’s sense of humor, enduring a grueling two weeks that left him wondering if someone had swapped his augmentations for a particularly nasty case of space mono.

Stepping into the conference room felt like walking into a surprise party where the guest of honor is a military secret. The usual sterile, buttoned-up atmosphere of the room had been swapped out for something that could only be described as "expectant tension with a side of Spartan." His fellow Spartans, a collection of 16-year-olds who made the average Olympic athlete look underdeveloped, were all buzzing with a mixture of excitement and the kind of jittery energy usually reserved for kids on a sugar high.

Dr. Halsey stood at the front, her demeanor that of a professor about to unveil a breakthrough that would either win her a Nobel or get her a stern talking-to from the ethics committee. "Gather round, Spartans," she said, her voice a blend of command and conspiratorial glee. "What you're about to see is the result of years of blood, sweat, and an ungodly amount of government funding."

The Spartans shuffled closer, their usual poise momentarily replaced by the universal human reaction to being told they were about to get a present: unabashed eagerness.

John, finding himself amidst a sea of towering figures, couldn't help but let a wry smile play across his lips. The situation was absurd - a group of teenage super soldiers, giddy as school kids, all because of what? A new toy?

As Halsey pulled the cover off the object with a flourish, she might as well have been a magician revealing her final trick. "Behold," she announced, stepping aside to reveal not a rabbit, but the next generation of Spartan armor. "Your second skin."

The room erupted into an odd mixture of awe-struck silence and muttered commentary that sounded like someone had crossed a sports commentary box with a tech expo. "Would ya look at that," one of the Spartans whispered, voice tinged with reverence and a hint of disbelief, "It's beautiful."

"Bet it could make me run faster," Kelly chimed in, her comment floating over the crowd like a challenge.

John stood there, taking it all in – the armor, the reactions of his peers, the palpable excitement in the air – and couldn't help but think about the road ahead. The grueling training, the augmentations that felt more like an exercise in masochism than enhancement, and now this... it was all leading to something bigger. Something dangerous. But as he looked around at his fellow Spartans, their faces alight with anticipation and a touch of youthful naivety, he felt a surge of camaraderie.

"Yeah," he finally spoke, his voice cutting through the chatter with the ease of someone used to being heard, "But can it do laundry?"

The laughter that followed was a rare sound in the Spartan-II training facility, a moment of genuine human connection amid the relentless preparation for war. In that laughter was an acknowledgment of the absurdity of their situation – teenagers, turned into super soldiers, preparing to don armor that made science fiction look quaint.

The atmosphere had shifted from one of eager anticipation to cautious intrigue, thanks in no small part to Dr. Halsey's next revelation. "As part of our development process for the Mjolnir suits," Halsey began, her voice steady, betraying none of the drama that her next words would unfurl, "we conducted an initial test with a volunteer from the Marine Corps."

A collective breath seemed to be held among the Spartans. Volunteer work within the UNSC often ranged from the mundane to the suicidal, and given the context, guesses on where this story was going veered towards the latter.

"The marine was a seasoned veteran," Halsey continued, her gaze sweeping across the room, locking eyes with each of the Spartans as if to underscore the gravity of her recounting.

"Decorated. Experienced. And, most crucially, willing." Murmurs of respect whispered through the ranks. To volunteer for unknown, potentially lethal testing was a mark of courage—or recklessness—that every Spartan understood intimately.

"Upon activating the suit," she pressed on, "the marine's initial response was of exhilaration. The Mjolnir's capabilities far exceeded anything within our current arsenal. However," here, Halsey paused, allowing the word to hang in the air like a guillotine's blade, "the suit also responds to neural impulses at the speed of thought."

A sense of foreboding crept into the room, a shadow that grew with Halsey's every word.

"Regrettably, the human body, unenhanced, cannot withstand such instantaneous, powerful responses. The marine... suffered extensive injuries."

"How extensive are we talking?" a Spartan interjected, the question hanging between curiosity and concern.

"Every bone in his body was broken," Halsey answered, her tone clinical but not without a hint of regret. "He survived. Recovery will be... extensive. And yes, his career in the field is effectively over."

A heavy silence followed her declaration. The implications were clear and chilling: the Mjolnir armor was not just a tool, but a titan that demanded respect, and a certain genetic fortitude, to wield.

"Will he be alright?" another Spartan asked, the question voiced softly, a rare crack in the façade of Spartan stoicism.

Halsey met the question with a nod. "He will recover, physically. He's been recommended for an honorable discharge and will be offered a position away from the front lines. His sacrifice has provided invaluable data."

The room settled into a contemplative quiet, each Spartan wrestling with the story's implications. The line between human and superhuman, it seemed, was drawn not just in ability, but in the very capacity to survive their own strength.

Then, breaking the silence with a resolve that seemed to push back against the room's growing somberness, John-117 spoke up. "He knew the risks?"

"He did," Halsey confirmed, meeting John's gaze with an unreadable look.

"And he volunteered anyway," John mused aloud, not a question but a statement—a reflection of understanding, perhaps, or a glimpse into his own unwavering resolve.

"Yes, John," Halsey replied, her voice carrying a new weight, a recognition of the courage mirrored in her Spartans. "He did."

As whispers of concern and not-so-quiet bets on who’d bite the bullet and go first swirled around, John-117 stepped forward. The runt, the Omega, the kid who was always picked last for dodgeball until people realized he could dodge, throw, and strategize like some kind of mini-Sun Tzu.

His bravery wasn’t just the talk of the town; it was legendary, bordering on the reckless. But then again, who among them wasn’t a few crayons short of a full box for signing up for this gig?

John’s choice of gear was like watching someone decide to bring a knife to a gunfight because they’d figured out a way to make the knife shoot bullets. The Mirage armor core he selected was the equivalent of choosing the sleek sports car in a lineup of armored tanks. It was built for speed and agility, the kind of suit you’d wear if you wanted to dance through bullets rather than walk off getting hit by them. Its plates were thin, flexible, more akin to the elegant armor of a futuristic knight than the hulking exoskeletons of its brethren.

Tossing aside the standard-issue Mirage helmet with a flick of disdain, John opted for the MK-VI—a headpiece that looked like it had been designed for a BMX rider destined to joust in a post-apocalyptic world. With its pronged visor and compact design, it was less about shielding your identity and more about making a statement: Here I am, come and get me.

As the suit’s pigmentation shifted to a forest green at John’s command, it wasn’t just the armor that changed. The mood in the room took a turn from anxious to awe-struck, as if everyone had suddenly remembered who they were and what they were training to become. This wasn’t just about surviving a suit; it was about mastering it, becoming one with it.

Strapping on his bandolier like he was accessorizing for the end of the world, John’s machete sheath and radio clamp weren’t just tools; they were statements. I’m here to fight, and I plan to win. His readiness was palpable, a physical thing that filled the room and reminded everyone exactly why they were there.

Dr. Halsey, ever the ice queen with a heart of, well, maybe not gold, but perhaps a sturdy alloy, regarded John with a look that might have been pride or might have been calculating the odds. "How do you feel?" She asked as the room held its breath.

John, surveying the sea of faces—his teammates, his rivals, his family—cracked a grin that was all cocky assurance and youthful bravado. "...Like I'm ready to take on the whole damn world."

The armory erupted, not in laughter, but in a shared release of tension, a collective acknowledgment that, yes, this was insane, but if John-117 was leading the charge, then maybe, just maybe, they had a fighting chance.

Dr. Halsey, allowing the faintest smirk to grace her lips, simply nodded. "Then let’s see if the world’s ready for you, John." This wasn’t just a test; it was a declaration. John-117 wasn’t about to enter the arena. He was about to redefine it.

@ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask, @authortobenamedlater, @empresskadia, @makowrites, @makowrites, @killer-orca-cosplay, @ageless-aislynn.