#the sneetches worked

[hazel-drawthorne]

A still life painting done over 2.5 weeks + detail shot of the ornament

Click for more detail!

[solarpunkpresentspodcast]

Ecofascism and Rewilding: A Conversation With Ariel Kroon and Christina De La Rocha

There’s no question that the biosphere is in crisis right now thanks to human-driven global warming, our hostile takeover of most of Earth’s land area, and our pollution and overfishing of the seas. Slowing down—never mind outright stopping—the collapse of the Earth’s ecosystems and the mass extinction currently gaining pace calls for aggressively protecting the environment, or possibly even giving half of the Earth’s land surface back to nature in a process known as rewilding. 

But how will we manage to share the Earth with the rest of the biosphere when history shows that we’re pretty terrible at sharing it with each other, with some states even going so far as to have used the preservation of wilderness as a tool of genocide and white supremacy? There are still those who would use environmental protection as an excuse to block immigrants, reject refugees, and expel “undesirable” people from the land. What will it take to value human and non-human life and the land all equally, without using one as an excuse to persecute the other?

Getting urgently-needed environmental protection and rewilding right requires facing the evils that have been historically committed in the name of conservation, so that we don’t repeat those grave mistakes, even with the best of intentions. As solarpunks, we need to learn from the past in order to shape futures that are intentionally better than our pasts and presents.

And that’s a wrap for season 2! Season 3 will be coming along in the last week of June for Patreon supporters, and to the public in the first week of July. Until then, keep dreaming, and keep up the good work!

Links

Reframing Narratives with Ecocriticism, with Dr Jenny Kerber 

Against the Ecofascist Creep webzine teaching resource and explainer

Read about the 100-Mile Diet book and phenomenon on Wikipedia

Read about the locavore movement on Wikipedia

A great article on philosophical questions with The Sneetches from the Prindle Institute for Ethics

Some articles on food forests

The Half-Earth Project 

[i-got-too-many-links]

You can separate the art from the artist until their harmful politics and ideals begin leaking into their works.

A lot of times, artists and writers WILL leave their ideals in their works. That's not my point here. My point is that you can separate the art from the artist until they start weaponizing their work with their harmful views.

For example, we'll compare Dr. Seuss to JK Rowling.

On one side, we have a man who deeply cared about issues that affected his daily life. He was a leftist, a war veteran, a husband, and an author.

Dr. Seuss

Illustrated political cartoons during WWII, specifically supporting Roosevelt

Wrote Horton Hears a Who ad an allegory for the American post-war occupation of Japan

Sued the pro-life movement for using Horton's quote, "how small" on their propaganda stationary

His view on kids, "You have 'em, I'll entertain 'em"

Purposefully wrote the beginnings of his stories WITHOUT a moral in mind, quoting "Kids can see morals a mile away"

Continuing on that point, he wanted to view his stories as subversive rather than making an obvious remark within his works

A lot of his books have anti-consumerism, (the sneetches), racial equality (the butter battle book), arms race (yertle the turtle), and economic materialism (how the grinch stole christmas) allegories that fly over children's heads in favor of purposefully written morals that are intended for his younger audiences.

Point: Dr. Seuss never weaponized his writing. He never outright talked about things in his books to kids that were deemed inappropriate. In fact, a lot of his works were colorful and imaginative and weren't at all trying to teach specific moral issues. (What Was I Scared Of? Is a personal favorite of mine that teaches you how to fave your fears)

JK Rowling, on the other hand, decided to unapologetically use harmful stereotypes and politics in her works.

JK Rowling:

Admitted multiple times during interviews that goblins are a Jewish allegory

The only Irish character in her book is a harmful racial stereotype in that Seamus Finnigan not only has a stereotypical Irish name, he regularly explodes.

The only Jewish character in her book is Anthony Goldstein. Which is another rather harmful stereotype.

The only Asian character's name is Cho Chang.

The only Indian characters' names are Padma and Pervati Patil.

Hermione's protest movement Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare was named that way on purpose so other characters could call it SPEW and make fun of her. Insisting the house elves were better off working in slavery and they were happier that way, using a fired house elf (Winky) ad a harmful narrative device to try and defend the pro-slavery mindset within the Wizarding world

Uncomfortable Nazi allegories with Voldemort being a Magic Hitler

Attempting equality after her books were already published in an attempt to paint herself in a better light (tweeting that Dumbledore is queer, Hermione is black, etc.)

TERF behavior patterns that ended up in her publishing several radical publications explaining why trans people should die

So. There's a line to be drawn here.

Dr. Seuss illustrated a lot of commentaries on socio-economic issues in the WWII Era. Prominent and relevant issues. But he also taught important morals to kids in his writing while being subversive and rather imaginative in his books. They were obviously children's books and never swayed from children's books.

But there's something uncomfortably political about Harry Potter and that's why I can't separate it from JKR.

[whump-me]

Whumptober Day 20: Found Family

This is a standalone story in my original Mind Games universe, a modern-day sci-fi/fantasy thriller setting about ordinary humans with superhuman abilities and the people who want to use or destroy them. Full description in my Whumptober masterpost, which is linked in my pinned post.

This story contains: queerplatonic relationship, emotional whump, sad/bittersweet ending

Words: 2800

---

Not many people wandered into Sleepy Owl Books these days. And of the ones who did, hardly any stayed long enough in the used bookstore to find the door that led to the narrow basement stairs. Those who did, however, were rewarded by discovering one of the best-kept secrets in the city.

The ambience was somewhere between a casual basement den and an old-fashioned scholar’s study, with mismatched furniture strewn everywhere and ornately carved bookshelves of dark wood lining the walls. On winter afternoons, a fire burned in the fireplace. Sneetch, the bookstore cat, slept in front of the fire whenever it was burning. No one who had visited Sleepy Owl Books had ever seen Sneetch awake.

A small table in the corner of the room held carafes of coffee, hot chocolate, and some kind of spiced herbal tea. Jonathan had never figured out what the tea was, or how to find it anywhere but Sleepy Owl Books. Maybe it was made especially for this place. Maybe it was a hallucination brought on by the sleepy aura of the cat and the smell of old books.

He poured tea into an old chipped mug and settled in on the nearest couch, waiting for Xander.

The basement was built for relaxation, but Jonathan wasn’t here to relax. This was a business meeting—at least in theory.

In theory. But Jonathan and Xander were long past childhood training, when PERI had driven false wedges between members of their cohort by setting them against each other. Now that they were full operatives—living in the outside world full-time, with fake names they used more often than their old PERI designations—no one worried anymore about members of their cohort developing social bonds with one another. Their respective handlers had even noticed that the two of them worked well together, and started assigning them to missions together on a regular basis. It certainly wasn’t because they had complementary powers—they were both just ordinary telepaths.

Even so, old habits died hard. For most of their time growing up in PERI headquarters, friendship had been forbidden, a harshly punished luxury like candy or solitude. So even on days like today, when they were ostensibly meeting to discuss their next mission, they maintained the old habits of secrecy. Xander, who had discovered a love for books since moving out into the outside world, had discovered the basement of Sleepy Owl Books three years ago. Now they had most of their meetings here, and each watched for surveillance on their way in and out.

Footsteps on the creaky stairs made Jonathan jerk to attention. He turned his head, shoulders tense. Almost no one knew about this place, but there was always the chance someone else had happened to find their way down here. And if they had, it would no longer be suitable for a clandestine meeting today, and Jonathan and Xander would have to leave—separately, their conversation postponed for another day.

Not only because they would be discussing PERI business. But because even now, friendship felt forbidden. And anyone could be a PERI spy.

Jonathan needn’t have worried. The footsteps on the stairs belonged to Xander, who stepped into the room with a grin and opened his arms for a hug.

His grin looked… wrong. Tense. Waxy, almost, like he had to force it. But when Jonathan looked again, the wrongness was gone.

He set aside his misgivings and stood for a hug. He wrapped his arms around his best friend, careful not to spill his tea. The warmth of Xander’s hugs always filled a spot in him he had forgotten was empty. Each time, he could almost understand why PERI had forbidden friendship.

Sex was an enjoyable experience, as far as it went. It, too, had been forbidden during training. But once they had become full operatives and left headquarters, their handlers had pushed them toward the prospect of finding regular partners, extolling the mental health benefits of sexual release. But friendship was a deeper warmth, and more enduring. Friendship was a thing of the heart and the soul, not the body and its random electrical impulses.

It made sense, then, that friendship was something their handlers still danced around warily. It wasn’t forbidden, exactly, not anymore. It was even halfheartedly encouraged if it was useful for PERI’s purposes, as in their case with all their missions together. But they were certainly not told to seek it out. Underneath every conversation with Jonathan’s handler, when the topic of Xander came up, was a thread of silent judgment.

Jonathan tried to give himself over to that warmth now. But like Xander’s smile, the hug was different. Jonathan wasn’t imagining it. Xander felt stiff in his arms, and gave him an awkward pat on the back instead of his customary breath-stealing squeeze.

Jonathan pulled back, almost sending tea sloshing over the edges of his mug. “What’s wrong?” From this close, the sheen of fear in Xander’s eyes was unmistakable.

“I need to talk to you.” Xander placed his hands on Jonathan’s shoulders. He ran his fingers down the arms of Jonathan’s jacket with a slow, deliberate motion.

“I know,” said Jonathan. “You need to tell me about the next mission. You said your handler had something for us.” Jonathan took a step back, away from Xander’s hands. “What are you doing?”

“Checking for bugs.” Xander closed the distance between them again. He patted the underside of Jonathan’s arms, and unzipped his jacket to check the insides. He ran light fingers down the outside of Jonathan’s legs, all the way down to the ankle, where he squeezed before sliding a finger into each of the heels of Jonathan’s shoes.

He stood. “You’re clean.”

The fire burned merrily in the hearth, and the mug radiated warmth into Jonathan’s hand. Even so, Jonathan felt as cold as if he were standing outside on the sidewalk with his jacket still unzipped. “Xander… what is this about?”

“I’m leaving,” Xander said, his voice hushed.

“Leaving… the city? You’ve been reassigned?” The chill intensified. Jonathan wrapped his arms around himself. PERI wouldn’t reassign one of them without reassigning both of them. Would they?

Xander shook his head. “Nothing that simple.”

But he didn’t clarify. Jonathan quested for other meanings. “Leaving… me?” he ventured. His voice was small.

He had heard about breakups, of course. He watched enough TV to understand the concept. But he had always assumed it didn’t apply to him. He didn’t date—he wasn’t interested in the intricate dance of social negotiations it entailed. Besides, dating meant sex, and whatever the mental health benefits, he had always found it a lackluster experience.

Breakups were for romances. Not friendships. Certainly not friendships strong enough to be family, or more than family. And breakups were for ordinary people, not people raised in the crucible that had formed them. Not friends who had taken their first breaths in the same underground laboratory, who had spent their first years in the same nursery, who had begun operative training on the same day at five years old.

But then, who ever thought the concept of breaking up applied to their own relationship? No one. He had learned enough of the outside world for that. Everyone thought their own romance—their own friendship, their own family—was special. The reasons always differed, but the sentiment was the same.

But Xander shook his head. “No, never,” he said fervently. He bit his lip. “Or… I hope not.”

The chill reached Jonathan’s heart. “What do you mean, you hope not? Isn’t it your choice?”

“It is.” Xander gave him a slow, strangely grave nod. “I’m making a choice, Jonathan. A real choice. Maybe for the first time in my life.” He drew a shaky breath that made Jonathan’s heart clench. “I’m leaving PERI.”

“I don’t understand.” Jonathan searched Xander’s eyes for illumination. Xander’s anguished gaze shed no light on his words. “We don’t… we can’t leave PERI.”

“I can. I’ve thought it through.”

When? He had never spoken a word of this to Jonathan. “But… what do you mean, leave? We are government program. They made us. They created us to work for them. Without them… what would we even be?”

“I’m not sure.” Xander flashed him a brief, sickly smile. “But I’d like to find out.”

“They’ll catch you. You know they’re always watching.”

“I have a plan,” said Xander. “I’ve been working on it for a long time.”

“How long?” How many missions had they been on together while Xander had been thinking about this, never breathing a word? Had he been plotting this during the assassination in Munich? Or when they had plucked the secrets of the planned coup from the government minister’s mind in Belgium?

“It doesn’t matter,” Xander said, his eyes darting away. That was answer enough. “What matters is I have a plan—a good one. I can disappear.” His eyes found Jonathan’s again. “I can help us both disappear.”

“How?” But then Jonathan shook his head, because that wasn’t really what he wanted to know. “Why? Why would you want to leave?”

It was as unthinkable as a fish leaving water. PERI had chosen their DNA, strand by careful strand. PERI had cut them from their genetic mothers’ bellies. PERI had trained them, honed them, forged them into the weapons they were. Did a weapon choose to leave its wielder’s hand?

“I’ve been thinking about it on some level ever since we left finished training,” said Xander. “Maybe even before. Haven’t you?”

Jonathan stared at him in blank incomprehension. For the first time, he wondered if maybe he didn’t know his best friend at all.

“Back in headquarters, I didn’t really know what freedom meant,” said Xander. “I just thought it might be nice not to spend all our time training. But after we got out…” He spread his arms wide, as if to indicate the whole messy and terrifying outside world. “Haven’t you wondered what it would be like to live like everyone else? Being able to choose what we do with our lives? Not having to lie, and hide, and kill?”

Jonathan could honestly say he had never wondered that. Not for a single second. Why would he have? He wasn’t like everyone else. “We’re not them. We’re PERI operatives.”

“They told us this is our purpose,” he said. “They told us what they made us to be is the only thing we’re good for. They told us we don’t have a choice. They told us.”

“They created us for this! Our genetics don’t lie.”

“Who says we have to be what we were created to be?” Xander challenged. “Children rebel against what their parents want for them all the time. Haven’t you watched any TV?”

Jonathan had, of course he had, but apparently not the way Xander watched. Jonathan watched to learn about the outside world, and about how its people thought. Not to pretend he was one of the people on the screen, that he could step out of his skin and into theirs as easily as changing clothes.

“I was assigned to work in the library for a year back at headquarters,” Xander said. “Back when PERI thought they might assign me as an instructor instead of making a full operative.”

Jonathan remembered. He hadn’t known Xander well back then. And Xander hadn’t been called Xander then, of course. He’d only had a designation, like the rest of them. Back then, he had only been the one the other spoke of in hushed tones, as if to talk too loudly would be to draw his fate down on the rest of them.

Xander’s combat scores were too low—his reflexes too slow, his choices too timid. His telepathy was too weak. The threat of recycling had hung heavily over him—not as a punishment, but as a simple consequence of not being good enough.

The instructors, too, had spoken about him in whispers. They had talked about his brains, about what a waste it would be. They had tried to find some possible alternate use for him—but what other use could there be for someone bred to be an operative?

And then Xander’s telepathy had matured, and his scores had gone up, and it all became a moot point anyway.

“While I was working in the library, I did some research,” Xander continued. “Our powers are just a genetic mutation—one PERI figured out how to successfully breed for. But PERI didn’t create it. People in the outside world have it, too.”

Jonathan shook his head.

“It’s true,” Xander insisted. “Even some operatives know it—the ones whose missions involve going up against other Enhanced. That’s what we’re called—did you know that?”

“We’re called PERI operatives.” Jonathan didn’t see why they had to be anything else.

“They told us our abilities mean we have to work for them,” said Xander. “But it’s not true.”

“Even if you’re right,” said Jonathan, “why does it matter? Why would you want to leave?”

Now Xander was the one looking at him like he was an alien, like they had never understood each other at all. “Doesn’t everyone want to leave? Don’t we all think about it sometimes?”

“I’m doing what I was born for,” said Jonathan. “I’m using my gift for the greater good. I have the chance to make the world a better place with what I can do—we all do. Because of PERI.”

Xander shook his head slowly. His eyes were equal parts uncomprehending and pitying. “You actually believe all that, don’t you?”

“If you don’t want to be what you were made to be,” Jonathan said, “then what do you want?”

“I want to live,” Xander said. “And… I’d rather not do it alone.” He held out a hesitant hand to Jonathan. “Come with me.”

“We are living. We’re living the lives we were born for—how many people can say that?” Jonathan stared into Xander’s eyes, pleading. “I don’t know what you think you’ll find, but there’s nothing out there for you. You already know your purpose. Stay.”

Slowly, Xander lowered his hand.

“When are you leaving?” Jonathan’s words came out in a whisper.

“Tomorrow,” said Xander. “I couldn’t risk talking about it before now. Too much risk of being caught.”

It made perfect sense to Jonathan. Even so, Xander’s silence felt like a betrayal.

Xander opened his arms to him again. Jonathan carefully set his cup down. Then he wrapped his arms around his friend for what he knew was the last time.

This time, Xander’s hug was exactly as it should have been. There was no hesitation; there were no awkward back pats. Xander squeezed so hard Jonathan almost couldn’t breathe.

Jonathan squeezed back.

He knew what he had to do now. He knew it as surely as he knew what he had been born for. He had to report Xander to PERI. Otherwise, a fully trained PERI operative would be loose in the world, a weapon with no one to aim him but himself.

Either that, or Jonathan should end Xander’s life himself. It would probably be kinder than what PERI would do.

Slowly, reluctantly, he let his arms fall back to his sides. Xander squeezed for a few seconds longer, then let go.

“Goodbye.” Jonathan couldn’t speak above a whisper. “I hope I’ll see you again.”

Xander shook his head. “I won’t be able to come back. It would be too dangerous—I’d be caught.” Again, he held out a hand. “But it’s not too late. You can come with me.”

“Goodbye,” Jonathan said again, and waited until Xander lowered his hand and turned away.

As Xander started back up the stairs, Jonathan understood what he had to do. He also knew he wouldn’t do it.

He knew, from the look he had seen in Xander’s eyes just before he had turned away, that that wasn’t enough for him. Xander thought Jonathan had chosen PERI over their friendship. Xander thought Jonathan had never cared about him as much as he had thought.

But Jonathan knew the truth. He knew he was doing all he could to protect his friend. What more could he do? He was a PERI operative. Even this much made him feel squirmy inside, like his skin didn’t fit right.

And he would do it for Xander. Even though Xander was leaving him. Even though he had never really known Xander at all.

That truth would have to keep him warm now.

---

Tagged: @cakeinthevoid @gala1981

Ask to be added or removed from my Whumptober 2023 taglist.

[heathengentleman]

Dead Kennedys - Holiday in Cambodia (Unofficial Video)

So, you've been to school for a year or two And you know you've seen it all In daddy's car, thinking you'll go far Back east your type don't crawl Playing ethnicky jazz to parade your snazz On your five-grand stereo Braggin' that you know how the niggers feel cold And the slums got so much soul It's time to taste what you most fear Right Guard will not help you here Brace yourself, my dear Brace yourself, my dear It's a holiday in Cambodia It's tough, kid, but it's life It's a holiday in Cambodia Don't forget to pack a wife You're a star-belly sneetch, you suck like a leech You want everyone to act like you Kiss ass while you bitch, so you can get rich But your boss gets richer off you Well, you'll work harder with a gun in your back For a bowl of rice a day Slave for soldiers 'til you starve Then your head is skewered on a stake Now you can go where people are one Now you can go where they get things done What you need, my son What you need, my son Is a holiday in Cambodia Where people dress in black Need a holiday in Cambodia Where you'll kiss ass or crack Pol Pot, Pol Pot Pol Pot, Pol Pot Pol Pot, Pol Pot Pol Pot, Pol Pot And it's a holiday in Cambodia Where you'll do what you're told A holiday in Cambodia Where the slums got so much soul

[sockstheartistpuppet]

Grinch AU Poppy!

Grinch au Poppy! Wally's mom! I designed her after the sneetches (Dr. Seuss creature) not much to her for this other than she fills the role as the working single mom to Wally. She's working very hard to make Christmas very special for her son but finds herself stressing herself out because of it. Plus Eddie May always decorates his house better than hers no matter how many lights she has!

[loretellerwrites]

The Hidden Trinity of Self: Unblemished, Unmeasurable, Unfinished

The question “who can I be?” is too often replaced with “who am I?”

I live in a world that unrelentingly demands that I explain myself. It demands that I justify my existence, and the rubric for a justified existence is told to me in a hundred contrary ways by a thousand contrary forces. The deep work of getting better is overshadowed by the pressure to be the best right now.

The world demands that I present myself as digestible and distinct: a neatly packaged product for others to select, read the label on the back, and put in their shopping cart. We do this to ourselves too. We are so perpetually confounded at the complexity of the human experience, and our brains want nothing more than the comfort of boundaries and boxes. We divide our world into the haves and the have-nots, the capable and the hopeless, the flawless and the degenerates, the star-bellied sneetches and the starless ingrates.

There are three aspects to every person, at their core. Three aspects that we lose sight of. By awakening to the truth of what we really are, we can find peace in a world that fragments us to bore scrutiny into each part.

I am not inherently broken. I cannot be defined by labels. I have not arrived at my destination.

Beyond any superficial construct, our true selves are unblemished, unmeasurable, and unfinished.

Unblemished: Embracing Our Intrinsic Worth

No one is perfect. But the idea of being unblemished is not synonymous with the illusion of perfection: it is the realization that my intrinsic worth is untouched by my experiences. No trauma, choice, or assailant can reach its shadowy hand into my soul and leave it corrupted, or poisoned. My value defies obstacle and judgement. It is an unwavering facet of my essence.

The world wants to remind my of my inadequacy. But I am not broken, nor am I defined by my mistakes. My innate worth is untouchable. I am unblemished.

Unmeasurable: The Depth of Identity Beyond Convention

No one can float through life, avoiding all attachment, belonging, or label. And indeed, it would be harmful to do so. We attach ourselves to categories and groups, choosing our soil and planting our roots. But the concept of being unmeasurable transcends the futile attempt to quantify or categorize our identities. It is the understanding that my true self is beyond the reach of labels, and that I am more than my occupation, my relationships, or the expectations others have for me. My identity is an intricate tapestry of ever-evolving layers and hues, too rich and vibrant to be contained within a set of descriptions. I engage with the labels as a useful tool to navigate the world, knowing that models are just as false as they are helpful.

The world tries to bind me within its narrow definitions. But I am not confined, nor am I constrained by the labels others attach to me. My identity is vast and unbounded. I am unmeasurable.

Unfinished: The Perpetual Odyssey of Growth

The absence of a finish line doesn’t make the race a pointless one. The notion of being unfinished is not the admission of inadequacy: it is the recognition that my journey of self-discovery is ceaseless, an ongoing odyssey of growth and transformation. Embracing this understanding liberates me from the illusion of finality, igniting within me an unquenchable curiosity for the world and a boundless desire to expand my horizons.

The world seeks to convince me that I should achieve a zenith, that I should yearn for the moment that there is nothing left to learn or explore. But I am not stagnant, nor am I limited by my current state. My potential for growth is infinite. I am unfinished.

By acknowledging and embracing the unblemished, unmeasurable, and unfinished aspects of our true selves, we can hold space for the constructs of society without being consumed by them.

Our unblemished nature reminds us of our inherent worth, our unmeasurable essence transcends limitations, and our unfinished state encourages continuous growth. By embracing this hidden trinity, we not only honor our own complexity and depth but also cultivate empathy and understanding for the diverse, ever-evolving tapestry of human experience.

---

Liked this? Read more essays on storytelling and narrative psychology at https://loreteller.substack.com

[lepartidelamort]

The Chinese are Not Stupid. In Fact, Your Dad is Stupid.

Andrew Anglin

How obvious is it that Jews control America?

Anyone looking in from the outside can see it.

Why didn’t your dad know?

Why didn’t he tell you?

Is he stupid?

Is there any other explanation?

Seriously, what other explanation is there than that your dad is a frigging retard?

No one outside of America looks at this country and says: “Yep, just a normal country, just a total coincidence that this tiny minority of people from Eastern Europe controls their entire economy, all of academia, the media, and the government. Really big coincidence, actually, but it means nothing.”

No one looks at America and thinks that.

Especially not the Chinese.

Sorry. (I’m not actually sorry.)

Everyone you know is either mentally retarded, or the product of decades’ worth of systemic brainwashing.

This is all very obvious.

The situation is simply ridiculous.

It has never been more obvious than today that Jews totally control America. Just look at the politicians. Look at this law they just passed saying it’s de facto illegal to criticize Jews on a college campus. They rushed it through, after being publicly ordered to do so by Bibi Netanyahu. Bibi literally issued a statement giving a direct order to the US government to shut down the protests. When sending the cops in didn’t work, they sent in Antifa to break things so they could send the cops in again. Then they made it illegal to criticize Jews.

There has never been a situation of a “cryptocracy” before in history. It’s basically a science fiction concept, like in Gor.

This thing we are looking at is not even a cryptocracy. I don’t know what you call it. It’s not a secret that Jews run everything. Any normal person can look at this and see it. It’s simply that your life will be totally destroyed if you say it.

What the Hell Even is This? Seriously?

Imagine if this was the Middle Ages, and there was a king in a castle ruling the land, in total public view, sending out soldiers bearing his coat of arms, but when you asked a normal person who is in charge they said “no one knows.” And if you said “it sure looks like that king over there in the castle is in charge,” the king sent people to ruin your life by calling you an anti-monarchist. And then, imagine all the people denounced you as an evil anti-monarchist for saying the monarch is in charge.

This doesn’t make any sense. It is brutal, pathological nonsense.

Maybe, these people are stupid. It could be that simple.

If we’re to give the masses of people who do not know that Jews control America the benefit of the doubt, they are subconsciously aware of this fact but also aware that people’s lives are destroyed when they say it, and this denial of reality is a self-preservation mechanism.

However, more likely, the issue is that saying “Jews control America” marks you as low status. This is literal star-bellied Sneetches type shit.

(More like Star of David-bellied Sneetches, am I right?)

This is why the protests are so important. The protesters are fashionable. These are university students. The most fashionable people. All of us who grew up near universities knew this instinctively. We all remember being teenagers, wanting to be fashionable, and automatically looking at the university students. They were young and sexy, while also worldly and sophisticated, which is the definition of “high fashion.”

It Doesn’t Matter If the Protesters are Leftists

Everyone talking about how the protesters shouldn’t be supported because they are “leftists” and “anti-white” is just as stupid as some retard who can’t say aloud that the Jews control America. This is directly from Ben Shapiro. He has spammed this everywhere. It’s also being promoted on Breitbart and other places.

Firstly, it doesn’t matter who they are, the protests are pushing for something I consider very important, so of course I support them. That isn’t really complicated. If you can be convinced to deny your own interests because someone you ostensibly don’t like supports them, you’re simply dumb.

Remember that when Mike Johnson went to Columbia to threaten the protesters, he said he was against them because Hamas supports them. This is the kind of thinking that appeals to retards. People are far too comfortable with this left-right gibberish. I despise Mike Johnson probably more than anyone else on earth, but I’m not going to start supporting abortion because Mike Johnson is pro-life. I’m not going to go support gun control because Mike Johnson supports the Second Amendment.

Longtime readers will remember that before the media got wise to my ways and just banned any reporting on me at all, I used to endorse various things in order to force companies to denounce me.

(Sometimes I miss those days. But it was kind of a lot of pressure to be on TV and the front page of every news outlet every week.)

Shifting Alliances?

Even if all of the protesters are hardcore tranny-lovers and mass immigrationists, I still support their position against Israel, given that it is going to completely change the way everyone in the society talks about the Jews. It’s also forcing the Jewish overlords to dictate directly and openly. The mask is coming off and we are seeing the iron fist.

This can only be good news. I cannot stress that enough: anyone telling you to oppose these protests is Jewish or paid by Jews or mentally retarded.

However, we should note: we have no idea where this is all going, and it could end up going somewhere no one expected.

Society does not operate on “left” and “right.” As much as people have tried to define these things, they are effectively arbitrary. You can talk about tradition vs. modernism, but how does the American rightist view of “big government” jive with tradition? And why are open borders “modern”? The original definition of left vs. right is from the French Revolution, when the Catholic monarchists sat on the right of the parliament and the revolutionaries sat on the left. So, we could talk about the left as revolutionary and the right as religious, but you can list off a dozen or more major issues where this doesn’t make sense (the most obvious instance now being that the right is supporting Israel at a much higher rate than the left). Religious people, certainly Christians, should be the main people opposing this slaughter. The American right is still a remnant of an anti-communist coalition made up of big business, social conservatives, and the military industrial complex. Big business has totally shifted to the left, and been embraced by the left (AOC lobbies for Amazon), but for whatever reason (habit, presumably), social conservatives continue to defend deregulation as “freedom.” There is no reason that a French Catholic monarchist would support massive corporate food conglomerates being allowed to put poison in the food.

Let me tell you where I’m going with this: things are currently in flux. The old definitions are based on the Cold War. During the “Unipolar Moment” that lasted from the fall of the USSR up until 2017, when the US was the single great power on earth, people were lazy and things just sort of coasted. Now that we are entering a new age, alliances are going to shift.

The thing you need to understand is that all the things you seriously hate are Jewish:

Feminism

Promotion of homosexuality

Race-mixing

Mass immigration

Endless wars of domination

etc.

Claiming that these things will remain in place if Jews are no longer in power in America is like claiming that the government of Rhodesia will remain the same when it is handed over to the blacks. I’m sure there were some blacks in Zimbabwe who actually tried to keep the standards of the Rhodesians in place, but it just wasn’t possible.

That means that insofar as Jews lose influence, the things that Jews are exclusively responsible for are going to wane. What you are going to see in the left as it frees itself from Jewish influence is a shift away from these Jewish programs. That will happen necessarily. The people claiming that leftists will still be around promoting partial birth abortion and endless war against Russia when the Jews are gone understand nothing at all. They are feeble morons. No one was ever promoting these things before the Jews took over, just as no one in southern Africa was running a modern economy before whites took over. If it was not for continued Western backing, Zimbabwe already would have reverted completely to their traditional modes of living. This is not complicated. Anyone claiming that the modern lunatic left would exist without the Jews is stupid or purposefully trying to confuse you.

The left is currently making a hard break with the Jews. That is happening. We don’t know what that means in the long term. Certainly, there are Jews at these protests, and it’s unlikely that the protesters will oppose Jews who are against Israel. So there will still be some Jewish influence. But these universities function on massive donations from Zionist Jews, who are the primary individuals responsible for promoting the leftist “triggered snowflake safe space tranny” thing you all hate.

Maybe even when the left is cleansed of every Jew who supports Israel, they will still have enough Jewish influence to maintain some of these ridiculous views, but fewer Jews means less Jewishness, just as fewer whites means a less functional Zimbabwe.

I’m astonished that “fewer Jews means less Jewishness” is a controversial position. But I see people saying “even without the Jews, these leftists would still support the same issues.” Whenever I see it, I think “hey, thanks for that bright analysis, Mr. Shapiro.”

Shilling is like a bacterial agent on your psyche. A little bit of bacteria, and the body fights it off, but a lot of bacteria, and you get festering ooze and disease.

Some of you people have no idea how hard you’re being shilled against. That’s why I keep writing this same article over and over again. I keep seeing people on the right, who are allegedly aware of the Jewish problem, signal against these protests.

These shills are exploiting your guttural reaction to these protesters as “enemy.”

I don’t even think most of you are getting a clear impression of the protests.

Look at this guy:

Maybe he’s gay. I don’t know, I can’t tell with anyone under 30 at this point. But he seems like a normal white American youth to me. (The perm goes to the above stated point about fashion. These man-perms are high fashion.)

Did you see men like that at BLM? Because I definitely didn’t. BLM was all blacks, white women, trannies – maybe a few white males, but they were all fat soygoys.

Who knows what that kid professes as regards the Ukraine, trannies, mass immigration, feminism, and so on. I assume he probably professes support. But looking at him, do you think those views are unchangeable?

I don’t think so.

I think there are going to be a lot of people coming out of these protests that we can work with in the future. Of course, even if that is not the case, I’m 100% with these protests, regardless.

[ninja-go-to-therapy]

✨when you get this, put 5 songs you actually listen to, then publish. Send this ask to 10 of your favourites✨

^tagged by @floatingcomet

1. You Need Me Now? by Girl in Red and Sabrina Carpenter

2. DIRT by Zoe Ko

3. Jenna by Brye

4. RELAX AFTER WORK WITH A DRINK by lilyisthatyou

5. Sneetches get Steetches by Not The Main Characters

if u wanna do it go for it ✨

[larrydempsey]

“Jackie”

Closing the red door behind her, Jackie emerged from the back room of the comic book store wearing a white cotton T-shirt, faded blue jeans, and burgundy shoes with thick heels and soles.  Despite her average-looking clothing, the 18-year-old girl who wore those clothes was anything but average.  Her frosted, black, and bleached blonde hair was short and combed back, except for the hair that was grown long and shaped into two large curls, one in front of each ear.  Also unmistakeable were the number of silver hoop earrings she wore—three in the left ear and four in the right.     After Jackie stepped behind the cash register counter, four ten-year-old Black boys burst into the store.  Her dark green, widely-spaced eyes squinted as she saw them.  She smiled and greeted them in a low, labored voice.     “Hi.”     The boys, two of whom were quiet and well-behaved while the other two were loud, disrespectful troublemakers, ran over to the three-ringed binders that stored the trading cards.  They yanked the binders off the shelf and immediately began looking through them roughly.     “Hey, treat the binders nice,” Jackie warned the boys, strongly.     Clasping her silver-fingernailed hands together, Jackie leaned forward, resting her forearms on the glass countertop and watching their every move.  As she bent over the counter, a large tattoo, a yin-yang symbol of red and black dragons, peaked out from beneath her shirt on her lower back.  As she played with her green glow-in-the-dark watch and her silver and turquoise rings and bracelets, you got the impression she had many other tattoos and body piercings, ones that were not meant to be seen in public.     “Are you ready?” Jackie asked a customer who approached the counter.     Taking advantage of Jackie’s distraction, two of the boys tried to slip something into their pockets before she looked back in their direction.  But after several unsuccessful attempts, they gave up.     The boys finished looking at the trading cards, leaving the binders all over the floor.  Jackie sternly told them, “Put the binders back where you found them, please.”     Next, the boys wanted to look at the statues.     “Only if you’re going to buy one.  Can you afford $195?” she asked.     The boys smugly declared they could.     “I don’t think so,” she sarcastically replied, as a smile stretched across her round face.     Not leaving Jackie alone until she showed them something up close, she reluctantly agreed to show them some lower-priced Batman and Robin statues.  They were on a high shelf, which made getting them a little difficult for her since she was not all that tall.  Reaching up to get the statues revealed tattoos under her shirt sleeves: a pair of Dr. Seuss’s Sneetches on her left arm and a green imp on her right.     “Okay, you can look at my statues, but don’t touch them.”     “They’re not your statues,” remarked one of the boys.     “They’re more mine than yours.  If you break it, I have to pay for it.”     Growing increasingly bored from only being able to look at the expensive statues from a distance, the four boys eventually left.     “Did they think I8couldn’t tell they were trying to steal something?”

Copyright © 2023 Larry Dempsey.  All rights reserved.

Commentary for “Jackie”

–This was the fourth assignment for my “Writing for Children and Teenagers” correspondence course, which I took through the Institute of Children’s Literature.

–Where the objective of assignment #3 (“Grandpa’s Barn”) was to vividly describe a place, the objective of this assignment was to vividly describe a person.

–Based on a friend of mine who used to work at the comic book store at which I used to shop.

–The girl’s name is actually spelled “Jacque,” and I used that spelling when I turned in the assignment, but I changed it here in an attempt to make it easier for people to read without me having to explain how to pronounce it.

–Based on an actual event that happened while I was shopping at the store.

–The teacher called my story “a well-done word picture.”

–Some of the teacher’s other comments: “This is a lively and well-observed piece of description.  You’ve really zoomed in on Jacque here, letting me see the details of her physical appearance as well as aspects of her body language that give me insights into her personality.  The vivid, moment-to-moment action, along with brief pictures of secondary characters would make the reader feel as if he were right on the spot with Jacque.”

[hancydrewfan]

Pre Relationship #6 . General #9 . Love #4 . Domestic Life #1

for Hotchniss of course 😍

My dear Bee, thank you so much for these asks. Honestly, I just think about these two all damn day so it’s nice to share my dumb thoughts the best way I know how: irreverently and with much gusto! Please proceed:

Pre-Relationship #6: If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

I am basing this ask specifically off of my own fic linked here (shameless self-plug). If I told Emily that Aaron was her soulmate shortly after she met him, she would say, “What? Fuck you! No.” Then she would be deeply unsettled by the notion, and it would haunt all of her future relationships until she joins the BAU and then she would no longer be able to deny it.

If I told Aaron that Emily was his soulmate, he would look away and say very quietly, “I don’t deserve her.” And personally it would tear me in two to have to witness that.

General #9: Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear?

This is heavily influenced by how much smut I have read about these two (absolute boatloads of it, i’m disgusting. thank you, fanfic writers). Emily, the linguist, can and will whisper inappropriate things to him all day in Spanish, French, Italian, and definitely Russian (I just think that for all her saying she only knows some Russian, she knows a LOT of the dirty stuff). He usually doesn’t know what she’s saying, but how she says it really does the trick. And she’ll translate for him later when she can also show him what she whispered in his ear [waggles eyebrows].

Aaron does not whisper inappropriate things to Emily when they are in regular life because he is Big Mean Bossman, but in the bedroom he will unleash pure filth with such whispered ferocity that he can bring her to the edge with just his words. (i will not elaborate on this, go read stuff on ao3 you animals)

Love #4: How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

Emily is exceptionally cuddly in public after a few too many adult beverages, and Aaron doesn’t mind at all. Otherwise, he generally prefers to keep PDA to a minimum because he is Big Mean Bossman and he’s got a rep to maintain. But he is not above resting his arm casually around her waist if a local officer is getting too flirty. He is territorial, I do believe this to be true. (again, i am heavily influenced by SO MUCH FANFIC)

Domestic Life #1: If they get married, who proposes?

YOU TELL ME, BESTIE!! (go read Bee’s lovely new series about this very subject, first story linked here!)

But in my head, in a very Jim & Pam way, Aaron buys a ring after like their first official date, and he just keeps it locked in his home office safe until she sighs into his shoulder one evening late at night after too much to drink, “We should get married.” Then in the morning he’ll make pancakes and bring her breakfast in bed with the ringbox on the tray (this is also somewhat influenced by @sequinsmile-x ’s little ditty she wrote upon my request some weeks back, linked here)

long story short, i am h e a v i l y influenced by fanfic and i love you all for it.

ship questions! u ask, i’ll answer

[prolifeproliberty]

Hey Katie, i just got a job working in childcare (daycare/after school type of situation), and as part of the training for the job i'm doing coursework on early childhood education. I haven't looked at the whole thing yet (13 lessons need to be done in six weeks, lucky me) but one assignment that stands out wants me to list ten children's books "that represent respect for diversity". Obv. non-forced diversity is a good thing, but i'm not about to ask Google for a guide to children's books on diversity. I was wondering if you had any suggestions of books, or even just a place to start? I'm sure you're busy and this isn't necessarily your area of expertise, so pass on this if you need to, i'm just pretty stressed right now and not sure where to look.

I apologize that I didn’t respond to this sooner!

Off the top of my head, the first book that comes to mind is The Sneetches by Dr. Seuss. However, if the program is woke (and it sounds like it is), this may be a bit of a troll.

[daydreamers-sys]

[TRANSCRIPT: a tweet from our system’s twitter feralpack_sys which says:

“Anyone else keep thinking about The Sneeches during this whole verified thing?”

The next tweet, also from our account, says:

“This is LITERALLY y’all”

With a picture of two pages from Dr. Seuss’ The Sneetches (and other stories) /END image 1

The book shows the sneetches running into a machine on the left page and coming out on the right. A conman is gesturing toward the machine on the left page. The book reads:

“Then, quickly, Sylvester McMonkey McBean Put together a very peculiar machine. And he said, ‘You want stars like a Star-Belly Sneetch…? My friends, you can have them for three dollars each!’

‘Just pay me your money and hop right aboard!’

So they clambered inside. Then the big machine roared

And it klonked. And it bonked. And it jerked. And it berked And it bopped them about. But the thing really worked! When the Plain-Belly Sneetches popped out, they had stars! They actually did. They had stars upon thars!” /END image 2

/END TRANSCRIPT]

Posting this here because IM FUCKING RIGHT

[tacomasterstudios]

This gave me an idea.

You know how the seuss estate has been authorizing these new stories based on the old seuss characters to most assuredly cash in on the name value? “How the Grinch Lost Christmas”, “Horton Hears a Boo”, and crap like that?

Well, this would be one of those, but closer in tone to the original works of Seuss, complete with a thinly veiled metaphor. You know, like the Lorax (environmentalism), the Butter Battle Book (nuclear war), Yertle the Turtle (authoritarianism and specifically a spoof of Hitler), Gertrude McFuzz (body image), The Sneetches (racism and prejudice), and even the original Horton Hears a Who (respecting the Japanese after WWII).

I call it Morton the Elephant Bird.

Morton the Elephant Bird, naturally, is an elephant bird. Morton is constantly picked on and teased by his fellow jungle animals, because “we all know an elephant can’t be a bird!” The worst of which being some vulture (paralleling “Culture the Vulture” from the transphobic book) trying to convince Morton to clip off his wings and become a “normal” elephant. It gets so bad that Morton decides to run away from home, to the shock and dismay of his father, Horton.

On his travels, the less than friendly people he meets drive in the point that he’s some sort of a freak and that “elephants can’t be birds” and all that, and eventually Morton starts thinking they might be right. He even starts legitimately considering clipping off his wings. But on his way to get his wings clipped, Morton comes across a friendly catfish- or rather, a fish that used to be a cat.

Morton vents his problems to the catfish, and she lifts his spirits. The catfish teaches Morton that it doesn’t matter what people say you are, and what you are is ultimately up to you. And Morton listens to her.

They listen to her.

And so Morton returns home, their pride restored. And not a moment too soon- there’s a fire in one of the trees, and worst, their father, Horton, is trapped in it! So Morton uses all their might to grab their father and fly him to safety with their wings, and then fills their trunk with water and uses it to put out the fire. This gains the awe and the respect of their peers, who regardless are still slightly stuck in their ways. Luckily, Morton and Horton set the story straight, and the jungle animals learn that maybe an elephant can be a bird.

You might have noticed that I switched Morton’s pronouns from he/him at the beginning of the story to they/them after their realization. This is intentional. Morton is, like the OP said, trans and non-binary, and this story is a sort of coming out story.

I take it the author of this transphobic book didn’t read Horton Hatches the Egg as kid

Morton the Elephant Bird, Non-binary Trans icon.

[klapollo]

hello dear doodooheads i need your help finding a post. do you guys remember -- and granted some of you were toddlers then -- a post about ten years ago called "hollywood adapts the sneetches" which was a pastiche on hollywood adaptations of seuss books. i believe it was posted by an artist named tacofiesta but it seems to be nuked from the internet. there's no archived version with the images. i'm looking for it.

details from the post

the sneetches were played by drake bell (i think) and kesha

sylvester mcmonkey mcbean was played by adam sandler and he was the king of hardstyle shuffle

sneetch boy worked in a burger joint and kesha sneetch said something like "they say you cant teach a sneetch but WE JUST TOOK YOU BOYS TO SCHOOOOOOL"

they sing dream on by aerosmith

samuel l jackson was one of the sneetches and he said "the weenie roast is motherfucking canceled"

it was drawn in static pencils but at one point sylvester mcmonkey mcbean the kind of hardstyle shuffle shuffles in gif form and it was very important to me

if you've seen some existing shard of this dear darling sweet baby post please let me know...............i need her

[kariachi]

Round 3 of my new pokemon opinions. 26-32

Dondozo

The Big Catfish Pokemon, water type. I’m getting sumo wrestler lord catfish vibes here. Very blue and white, bits to evoke a headband that also work for a sorta crown, it’s just a big catfish with a very very face. It is fucking massive though, over 39 ft long. They’re powerful but stupid gluttons apparently, which team up with and follow Tatsugiri in pursuit of prey.

6/10, it gets a boost by being a fish, but otherwise there’s not much too it

~

Veluza

The Jettison Pokemon. It looks like somebody crossed a missle and a tuna. Water/psychic dual type, which I’d have never expected for tunafishle but sure. Apparently because losing parts of itself boosts it’s speed and psychic power and it heals very quickly they just sort’ve, shed their flesh on occasion. It’s apparently mildly flavored, but tasty. What is it with this gen and food? Were they not feeding the staff either?

7/10, it gets bonus points for being willing to shed it’s own self for speed and smarts, that’s hardcore

~

Finizen

The Dolphin Pokemon, water type, shocker. And it really is just a dolphin. A cute dolphin with some squiggly lines on it’s sides and a ring around it’s tail, but still just a dolphin. The ring is apparently made from seawater and a sticky fluid Finizen releases from it’s blowhole- so, snot, it’s seawater and dolphin snot- and it plays with other Finizen with it. It also uses ultrasonic waves to sense emotions.

6/10, not bad, but not great, just a dolphin, but I’m glad the dolphin pokemon people finally got one.

Palafin

Welp. When you level up or battle with a Finizen while hanging out with friends, it becomes a Palafin, and it looks like this one comes with two forms. The Zero Forme- which is a Finizen with a heart on it’s belly like it’s a fucking Sneetch- and the Hero Forme- which looks like somebody pulled it out of Yokai Watch or something. Hero Forme gets up on it’s tail like it’s legs, it’s fins turn into arms, it’s doing the hero pose, there’s- It’s a lot of change. Got a new ability too- Zero to Hero: “Switches to Hero Forme when it switches out”. Zero Forme’s pokebex entries say it has no physical differences from Finizen, but when it hears it’s allies in trouble it transforms into Hero Forme, though nobody has ever seen the transformation itself. Hero Forme’s, meanwhile, says that it’s ancient genes have awakened, allowing it to lift cruise ships with one fin and swim at 50 knots, and that it uses this power to save drowning people and pokemon.

7.5/10, I don’t want to but I feel like I have to give it to the bastard for being an actual superhero pokemon

~

Smoliv

It’s a Distressed Little Guy and also a fruit, Smoliv enters the ring. While it’s design isn’t as good as other pokemon of the same sort- Oddish, Budew, Petilil, Bounsweet- it’s still not bad. It’s an olive pokemon and it gets that across. You don’t really need more for this style of grass type. It converts nutrients into an astringent oil it uses to protect itself from enemies and also as food stores, capable of going a week eithout eating or drinking

6/10, it’s solid

Dolliv

Now with a scrawny dresslike body, it’s olives turned to pigtails, this certainly is an evolution for a base form like Smoliv. It’s essentially what we expected, nothign too unique from what I can see here. This one’s oil if fresh-scented and tasty, and they readily share it around. Apparently they’ve lived among people for a long time, basking in the sun, but when their fruit ripens they go off into the world on journeys of their own.

6/10, design is worth a 5 but the lore helps

Arboliva

They made an olive tree into a lady and honestly I kinda like it, at least in this image. The arms are branches and ripe, prepared olives hang from them. My dad would want twelve. They’re calm, compassionate, and share their nutrient-rich oil freely, though if you attack they’ll launch it at you with enough force to smash a boulder.

7/10, a step up, not perfect but not a bad pokemon

~~~

Fucking dolphins...