#top stories npr

[bereft-of-frogs]

Listening to the actual news every morning really inures you to the ‘why isn’t anyone talking about this’ online discount because what do you mean no one’s talking about Syria/the UHC shooting/the drones in NJ those have been the top stories all week.

The only downside is I used to hate when my mom had NPR on in the car and now I’ve 100% become that person, this is like the HGTV/cooking network revelation all over again, I totally get it, I too would sit for an extra couple minutes outside the grocery store until I finished listening to that segment about the origins of the word ‘pecan’.

[foldingfittedsheets]

We had lunch with a friend who was relating a story to us about a friend of hers who lives in a rural area populated by a very large number of mountain lions.

She and her husband were at home when they watched a mountain lion jump their back fence, dead deer in tow, dragging its prey to their back shed. They watched with horrified fascination as this apex predator started absolutely going to town on this deer carcass. Honestly, same. I’d have watched too, I love a free nature documentary.

But after several hours as the cougar continued to lounge they started to be concerned. This was not a neighbor they wanted. They didn’t want to call animal control so they did what any rural American would do and grabbed their guns.

Their first several warning shots were met with unimpressed ambivalence, the cougar regarding them with the smugness of a fat and happy cat who’s heard a gun before.

Frustrated, they went back to the drawing board. Then they decided to stand on the back step with two different speakers at max volume blasting the cougar with sound waves. While also firing their guns in the air. This finally achieved the desired result, the cougar hightailed it away at top speed.

What were they blaring, you ask? What scared the lion from its den?

NPR.

Our friend was laughing as she said, “It didn’t mind the guns but it hated NPR, it was one conservative cougar!”

[vazelisk]

Of course, we already have an established image of Pyrrha in Ever after, but I wanted to make my own version of the armor for her. And yes, I took Malenia's helmet, but the armor itself was inspired by Ornstein from Dark souls. And since she no longer has a Spartan motif, she is now a Bronze Guardian, which is a reference to Talos - a bronze automaton that guarded the island of Crete, which had a weakness in the form of a nail in the ankle. And as for the story of this Pyrrha, during the battle on the Bacon tower, Jaune flew in on a locker there and managed to detain Cinder long enough for Ruby to arrive, but unfortunately Jaune himself did not survive. After Pyrrha goes through her journey with NPR and RWBY, but in the Atlas Pyrrha manages to detain Cinder and Neo on the bridge and transfer the relics to the Vacuum, and she falls into Everafter and plucks the clock fruit, after which she meets Jaune from the original timeline.

The idea of time lines that fit on top of each other in Everafter was taken from the same Dark souls, where, as in Everafter, time twists into a spiral, which is why the same events can intertwine into a knot, and people from different eras are able to meet.

[duckcritter]

Want a cute doodle of your OC, like one of these?

I will make a drawing like this for the first 3 people who match my €10 (10.40 USD) donation to this GoFundMe! Simply DM me first, and once i confirm your slot, i will request a screenshot of your reciept. Alternatively, you can claim this adopt the same way!

The GFM belongs to Taqwa Khaled Al-Qouqa - a survivor of an airstrike in Gaza that killed over 100 civilians. I’m going to put more information and sources covering this story under the cut, because, surprisingly, i have not seen anything about it on Tumblr yet. (Below the cut will be discussion of political violence, mass murder, and death of children)

Slots taken: 2/3

Taqwa was the sole survivor out of her 24 family members in an airstrike that hit their apartment. Among them were her 6 children, who she didn't learn had passed away until she woke up from a coma induced by her injuries. She is also pregnant, and needs urgent medical care if either her or her unborn child are to survive.

Her family were among the (at least) 106 victims* who were killed in the Engineer's Building Airstrike - an attack by the IDF on a residential building. According to an investigation by the Human Rights Watch, the victims were all civilians, and no evidence was found of a military target.

*This number is based on how many individuals could be identified... Due to many being buried in rubble, it is almost certainly higher. An investigation by Airwars estimated that there were 130+ casualties, 60+ of which were children.

NPR published an article with more details about the family’s story, in which they interviewed Taqwa.

(Note to avoid any confusion: Taqwa is referred to with her family name Abusaeid/Abu Said in the article, but she goes by her husband’s last name Al-Qouqa. I have done my research and gotten in touch with Taqwa and her sister Israa on Bluesky to confirm that they are the individuals referred to in these articles. It’s worth noting also that Arabic has different conventions than English, and this is why you’ll often see multiple different translated spellings of the same name.)

Taqwa’s sister, Israa has a GoFundMe for supporting their family’s survival as well!!

These are Taqwa’s six children who were unjustly killed by the IDF: Suhaib (top left), Ibrahim (top center), Somaya (top right), Juman (bottom right), Mohammed (bottom center) and Riman (bottom right).

Please no derailing this post with spam or antisemitism, or i will mute replies, thanks. I do not support any religious extremists or nationalism. ❤️ Reblogs are very much encouraged!

[luulapants]

Y’all are making me so concerned. Please let me explain to you how easy it is to just make shit up and post it on tumblr and why you should not be using this godforsaken website (or Twitter or TikTok or Facebook or WhatsApp) as a primary source for LITERALLY anything.

1. Go to a news site that has the vibes/credibility/subject matter you want to bullshit about. I’m going to NPR’s science section.

2. Find an article with an image that works for the flavor of bullshit you’re looking up. I’m picking this first story about an asteroid that is almost certainly not going to hit us.

3. Use the ‘inspect element’ feature of your browser to open up the html for the page.

4. Use the ‘select’ tool to select the text you want to change.

5. This will bring you to the section of the html that contains the text, usually behind a three-dots icon. Click that to see the text you want to change.

6. Change the text to bullshit

7. Do the same with any other text you want to change, screenshot the whole thing, then copy it into a tumblr post:

This process literally takes two minutes, tops. Do NOT believe screenshots you see posted on social media sites. Actually go to the websites of reputable news organizations if you want to stay apprised of current events. Use social media for recreation and socialization ONLY.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Gary Taxali

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

August 30, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Aug 31, 2024

Trump and the MAGA movement garnered power through performances that projected  dominance and cowed media and opponents into silence. Rather than disqualifying him from the highest office in the United States, Trump’s mocking of a disabled reporter, bragging about assaulting women, and calling immigrants rapists and criminals seemed to demonstrate his dominance and strengthen him with his base. In July the Republican National Convention celebrated that performance with a deliberate appropriation of the themes of professional wrestling, including a display by an actual professional wrestler. 

Their plan for winning the 2024 election seems to have been to put forward more of the same. 

But the national mood appears to be changing. President Joe Biden’s decision to decline the Democratic nomination for president opened the way for the Democrats to launch a new, younger, more vibrant vision for the country. 

Democratic nominee Vice President Kamala Harris and her running mate, Minnesota governor Tim Walz, have promised to continue, and even to expand slightly, the programs that under the Biden-Harris administration have started the process of rebuilding the country’s infrastructure, bringing back manufacturing, and investing in industries to combat climate change. As the country did before 1981, they are promising to continue to focus on supporting a strong middle class rather than those at the top of the economy. 

Harris and Walz are building on this economic base to recenter the United States government on the idea of community. They have deliberately rejected the identity politics that Trump used so effectively to assert his dominance and have instead emphasized that they see the country not as a community defined by winners and losers, but as one in which everyone has value and should have the same opportunities for success. 

Last night, CNN’s Dana Bash asked Harris, whose mother immigrated to the U.S. from India and whose father immigrated from Jamaica, to respond to Trump’s suggestion that she “happened to turn Black” for political advantage, “questioning a core part of your identity.” Harris responded: “Same old, tired playbook. Next question, please,” and she laughed. “That’s it?” Bash asked. “That’s it,” Harris answered. 

Harris’s refusal to accept the MAGA terms of engagement, along with the exuberant support for Harris and Walz, has Trump, Republican vice presidential candidate J.D. Vance, and MAGA Republicans reeling. That, in turn, has made them seem vulnerable, and that vulnerability is now opening up room for pundits from a range of outlets to challenge them. They seem to be losing the ability to control the public conversation by asserting dominance. 

This change has been evident this week in the response to Trump’s visit to Arlington National Cemetery with the family of a soldier who died in the U.S. withdrawal from Afghanistan three years ago for campaign videos and photos attacking Harris, despite the fact that federal law prohibits campaign activities in the cemetery, in what is widely considered hallowed ground. The moment almost passed unnoticed, as it likely would have in the past, but Esquire’s Charles Pierce asked in his blog: “How The Hell Was Trump Allowed To Use Arlington National Cemetery As A Campaign Prop?”

Led by NPR, different outlets begin to dig into the story, and Trump, Vance, Trump’s spokesperson, and Trump’s campaign manager Chris LaCivita all tried to brush off their lawlessness with their usual rhetoric. Trump tried to change the subject to say he was being unfairly attacked for supporting a military family. Vance tried to suggest that Harris should have attended the private ceremony and that for criticizing it she should “go to hell,” although she hadn’t commented on it. The spokesperson suggested that the female cemetery official who tried to stop them was experiencing a “mental health episode,” and LaCivita, a leading figure in the Swift Boat veterans’ attacks on John Kerry in 2004, reposted an offending video to “trigger” Army officials, he said. 

It hasn’t flown. Today, MSNBC’s Dasha Burns asked Trump directly: “Should your campaign have put out those videos and photos?” Trump answered: “Well, we have a lot of people. You know, we have people, TikTok people, you know we’re leading the Internet. That was the other thing. We’re so far above her on the Internet….” Burns interrupted and followed up: “But on that hallowed ground, should they have put out the images…?” Trump said: “Well I don’t know what the rules and regulations are, I don’t know who did it, and, I, it could have been them. It could have been the parents. It could have been somebody….”

Burns interrupted again: “It was your campaign’s TikTok that put out the video.” Trump answered: "I really don't know anything about it. All I do is I stood there and I said, 'If you'd like to have a picture, we can have a picture.' If somebody did it; this was a setup by the people in the administration that, 'Oh, Trump is coming to Arlington, that looks so bad for us.’"

In the days since Biden stepped out of contention, Trump has been flailing—often complaining that it is “unfair” that Biden isn’t his opponent any longer—but his behavior has rocketed downhill since the new grand jury delivered a new indictment revising the four charges against him for trying to overturn the results of the 2020 presidential election and install himself in power. Karen Tumulty wrote in the Washington Post today that Trump is “spiraling,” noting that in the space of 24 hours he posted about Harris engaging in a sex act, promoted QAnon slogans, and called for prison for his political opponents. 

Tumulty notes that Trump’s team has been trying to get him to focus on the issues voters care about, but that after he “listlessly delivers some lines from the teleprompter,” he “gets bored and begins recycling the rants from his rallies.” Harris has stayed silent about his behavior, Tumulty says a campaign staffer told her, because “Why would we step in this man’s way?” The Harris campaign wants microphones left on throughout the planned September 10 debate, expecting that Trump will not be able to contain the rants that used to serve his interests but now turn voters off. 

To Vance is left the job of trying to clean up after Trump, but he’s not a skilled politician. Asked by John Berman about Trump’s social media attacks, Vance suggested that Trump was bringing “fun” and “jokes” to politics to “lift people up.” But observers on social media noted that claiming that attacks are “jokes” is a key part of asserting dominance. 

Vance himself went after Harris by saying that he had an early version of Harris’s CNN interview and then posting an old meme of a young Miss Teen USA who appeared to panic when answering a question and produced a nonsensical answer. When Berman told him that the young woman contemplated self-harm after becoming a national joke and asked if he would like to apologize for bringing up that old video, Vance declined to apologize, suggested we should “laugh at ourselves,” and repeated that we should “try to have some fun in politics.”

Vance got into deeper trouble, though, when asked to explain Trump’s statement when he told Dasha Burns that he opposes Florida’s six-week abortion ban. This November, Floridians will have to vote yes or no on a constitutional amendment that would put abortion rights similar to those of Roe v. Wade into the state constitution. 

Trump’s opposition to that amendment reflects the political reality that abortion bans are unpopular even in Republican-dominated states, but the MAGA base is fervently antiabortion. “That ‘thump thump’ you just heard is the entire pro-life movement going under the bus,” one wrote. 

A campaign spokesperson promptly tried to walk the statement back by saying that Trump “has not yet said how he will vote on the ballot initiative in Florida,” which Vance reiterated on CNN. When Berman pressed him on it, though, Vance appeared to lose the ability to hear the question, suggesting the feed was bad. 

This afternoon, Trump announced he will side with the antiabortion activists and vote against the amendment to the Florida constitution that would restore the rights that were in Roe v. Wade. Harris and Walz, meanwhile, have announced a national bus tour to highlight reproductive freedom. It will start in Palm Beach, Florida, where the Trump Organization’s Mar-a-Lago property is located. 

Today, lawyers for Ruby Freeman and Shaye Moss, the election workers Trump ally Rudy Giuliani defamed by accusing them of fraud in the 2020 election, asked a federal court to enforce the judgment that awarded them $146 million. They have asked for a court order requiring Giuliani to turn over his properties in New York and Florida, his luxury car, and his personal valuables including three New York Yankees World Series rings. Giuliani’s spokesperson accused the women of bullying Giuliani. 

The Lincoln Project, which believes that needling Trump is the best way to rattle him, today released a video that portrays Trump as a predatory animal who is old, past his prime, and abandoned by his pack. Rather than engaging in his final hunt, he has found himself the prey. The voice-over intones: “The circle of life eventually closes on all things.”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[ericdeggans]

My List of the Best TV in 2023: An Abundance of Quality Even in Adversity

What’s the surest proof that there truly is too much television available these days?

The fact that, even though 2023 featured historic performers and writers strikes in Hollywood which crippled film and TV production for months, there was still enough great series and projects to fill an entire notebook page.

Way too many, in fact, for me to cover in my small part of NPR’s awesome annual listing of the best TV and film of the year, compiled among six different critics. It’s one reason the strikes went on so long in the first place – for fans of great TV, it didn’t really seem like much changed, as streaming services kept dropping cool stuff, thanks to their long production lead times.

Ironically, viewers may notice the strikes’ impact more next year – in part, because a lot of cool TV shows left us in 2023 (pour one out for Barry, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, The Crown, Reservation Dogs, Succession, and, possibly, Ted Lasso) and also because the streamers will spend some time rebuilding lineups which got depleted.

Here, where I have a lot more room is my highly subjective and surprisingly long list of the Best TV of 2024:

TOP PICK - Succession – A show which perfectly captured how the dysfunctions of wealthy families can impact the world delivered a note-perfect finale that surprised – though I did predict Tom would win out – and yet felt completely inevitable. All while the world was second-guessing and writing their own endings. Masterful.

The Last of Us – Who knew reinventing the zombie apocalypse story was simple as coming up with a new cause – fungus, eww! – and the willingness to hand big chunks of the story over to compelling, fully drawn supporting characters. Doesn’t hurt to have ultimate zaddy Pedro Pascal and precocious acting genius Bella Ramsey on the case, either.

The Bear - Speaking of compelling supporting characters…this show’s second season sparkled by giving the other employees in Carmy’s greasy spoon-becoming-a-great-restaurant lots of narrative room. But it took flight with unexpected, brilliant cameos from Jon Bernthal, Olivia Colman, Oliver Platt, Bob Odenkirk, Sarah Paulson, and the legendary Jamie Lee Curtis.

Reservation Dogs – Proof of the amazing, authentic, original stories which come from letting indigenous people tells their own stories, smashing together a crushing realism with the sense that a jarring visit from the spirit world is always around the next corner.

Fargo – Not sure I love the ultimate message on the healing power of suburban, white, upper middle class Midwestern family life (or what happens to the one major Black character). But crackling performances from Juno Temple, Jon Hamm, Jennifer Jason leigh and Dave Foley make this year’s installment the best version in many years.

Shrinking – An emotional and truly funny comedy that reminds us how hilarious Harrison Ford and Jessica Williams can be while not making us spend too much time on Jason Segel’s angsty privileged white guy shtick.

Star Trek: Strange New Worlds – The TV series which scored the most by taking the boldest swings, leaning into Trek’s original heritage as an adventure-of-the-week which told the most ambitious stories on the small screen.

(The dancing, dubstepping, boy band-style Klingons on Strange New Worlds powered my favorite TV scene of the year.)

Star Trek: Picard – Yeah, I put TWO Trek series here, because everyone else in critic-land seems to be sleeping on the fact that they made more than one excellent season of a new Trek series filled with nods to what came before, including this show, which reunited the Next Generation cast in a storyline basically about old people saving the universe from young, clueless, mind-controlled pawns.

Barry – Wasn’t thrilled about how grim this series’ finale eventually became. But respected the fact that co-creator/star Bill Hader never shied away from the fact that the show was going to be his laboratory for all the directing and storytelling tricks he ever wanted to try, and a dark comedy about a hitman-turned-actor has to be seriously dark to mean something.

Beef – A road rage incident becomes a crackling, entertaining look at everything from Asian family culture to Elon Musk-level mogul dysfunction while also proving my girl Ali Wong can act her ass off.

Still: A Michael J. Fox Story – While other celebrities are executive producing documentaries to show how legendarily cool they are, Fox helped create an up close look at his struggle with Parkinson’s disease which show how hard it is to put on socks and take a walk on a new York street without crashing to the ground right in front of a concerned fan.

Only Murders in the Building – A comedy about over-privileged crime podcasters in an Upper West side apartment building should not stay entertaining over three seasons. But this show pulls it off, tossing in against-the-grain cameos by Paul Rudd and Meryl Streep that provide the best icing on a very fine cake.

Slow Horses – This show about a department filled with failed British intelligence agents not only subverts the spy genre, it subverts the satires which originally subverted classic spy dramas, like Get Smart. Topped by mesmerizing performances from Gary Oldman and Kristin Scott Thomas, I would have subtitled this one, Get Smarter.

Happy Valley - This series about an experienced, ball-busting divorced single mom of a police sergeant in a mid-size town in Britain notched an underappreciated series finale featuring the amazing Sarah Lancashire as Catharine Cawood, finally confronting the man she blamed for her daughter’s suicide and her grandson’s emotional turmoil.

BS High – A great documentary often tells a story which keeps going deeper and better, like a descent into a spellbinding madness. This film achieved that by giving center stage to master manipulator/football coach Roy Johnson, who got ESPN to air a game featuring his Bishop Sycamore High School team; the film contends their crushing loss eventually exposed that the school didn’t really exist.

I’m a Virgo – Creator and activist Boots Riley made an urban parable where Black excellence became superpowers and the world’s exploitive class came for a 13-foot-tall Black teen played by the always compelling Jharrel Jerome. Always inspiring to see how Boots turns mainstream media’s tropes and expectations against itself.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s2 episode 18 thoughts

zoo episode! sad zoo episode.

but. i was giggling. because our very serious agents were forced to say lines like "you think it was an invisible elephant?" and i was laughing!!! sue me!! we can hold space in our hearts for the sentiments that both the sad animal story is sad AND ALSO the thought of them doing investigation work at the zoo is comical. like the tiger is INVISIBLE.

okay. from the top we start.

a janitor is grooving. his partner tells him to stop. i say, keep grooving, man. you deserve it.

dancing has been interrupted!!! stuff is exploding and crashing and we hear elephant noises?? invisible elephant.....? that can BECOME visible?

it seems while in invisible it went a bit sicko mode as the kids say and then came back to visibility mode down the road

(where did renting an elephant for this episode fit into the s2 budget....)

so elephant has been spotted. a family calls the cops. and i understand the sentiment but i'm not sure the cops can do a whole lot about the elephant situation.

NOOO a child is crying as the elephant is dying in the road... this will be a core memory for those poor girls

(elephant actor is really selling it though... emmy nomination deserved)

back to the scene where the janitors saw things explode. mulder jumps out the window and i can't explain why it was really funny lmao

mulder is convinced that the elephant being found dead some miles away is related to this scene of destruction. and yeah, the dead guy DID have an elephant footprint on him. but no one saw an elephant and the janitors were very much there the whole time. so what's the truth?

this is so silly. i'm laughing.

mulder's explaining his theories and scully deadpans "an invisible elephant?" and i'm laughinggggg. can you imagine an elephant making a huge scene but somehow the witnesses just managed to miss the giant creature responsible.

the zookeeper, whose name is ed, arrives at the scene. scully asks about the dead elephant, and ed corrects her use of the elephant's pronouns, which made me think he was an ally.

(later we learn that he was beating all the animals, so this is decidedly un-allied behavior. ally certificate revoked)

the elephant is named ganesha- hey, i understood that.

mulder says he's heard of the "elephant rebellion" phenomenon, and asks if this is an example. yeah of course this man knows about the elephant rebellion. "fucking nerd", i wrote in my notes.

(actually, i am aware that this season aired in 1996, and the infamous Hawaiian elephant incident was 1994. the phrase "elephant rebellion" sounds very niche and nerdy in 2024, but at the time i image this was still very fresh in the world's minds, and part of a wider reckoning on how animals are treated for the sake of entertainment, and this episode is commentary upon that. i was not around for this national discussion, but i did watch askamortician's video on the incident, which is very good by the way. i have mostly grown up in a world free of animals in circuses and with zoos as conservation agents, so interesting to get glimpses into the discussions that led to the shaping of the world i live in)

but then we see the zoo!!! zoo time!!! there are penguins. i saw penguins like that at the zoo once :)

they go to talk to the naturalist who is basically like "idk how the elephant got out" and i'm thinking, girl shouldn't you be... more invested in this?? like an elephant died. ur not even shedding a tear. i would be in mourning.

they see where the elephant was staying when she wasn't on display, and it's frankly awful. scully asks why it was so small, mulder notices chains on the floor, and she says it was leftover from the 1940's, and that ed is treating them poorly, and i understand why this and other elephants have chosen violence

the folks from a radical anti-captivity group are protesting the whole situation. and she refers to them by some acronym that mulder immediately understands, which is further evidence that he must listen to npr or something. my professor that knows everything all the time listens to npr so i'm guessing that is what mulder does too.

meetup time with the dude leading the protest! his name is kyle, and he is saying that no animals should be in captivity, and he often kidnaps animals from zoos to let them go... and i'm not sure if this is a great idea?? because if an elephant has been raised in captivity its whole life, is it gonna know how to be in the jungle?? idk i am not a scientist.

this episode is suuuuper fuzzy and has a very vhs quality to it... i bet y'all were sleeping on this episode, huh? i'm guessing there wasn't as much effort placed into de-fuzzing it because it was about invisible animals and not one of the "hard hitters" of the season. but i think it's camp and i'm seated.

so kyle reveals that ed, the zoo guy, is treating his animals awfully at this point, which is where i formally revoked his ally status. and he says that the naturalist is too busy being sued over her gorilla to really focus on making the zoo more humane.

yeah, you heard that: she "saved" a gorilla and took it home, and now the government of the country she took it from wants it back.

"i thought you said she saved this gorilla?" scully asks, and i dissolve into further fits of laughter, because that is such a funny line out of context and even in context.

well, she "saved" the gorilla by bringing it home and sticking it in a cage, so kyle isn't pleased by the whole ordeal.

so, what to make of these anti-captivity activists? mulder says he thinks they're all talk and not really apart of the whole crime, but scully says she thinks they are behind the elephant's fate, and will release another animal to get the zoo shut down. this is a deep philosophical difference.

he leaves and says he is going to talk to the animals, because i knew that was the type of guy he is

(he's actually lying, though. well, sort of, because he's calling his buddies at the lone gunman, that conspiracy magazine he is involved in somehow. and it's a video call using a camera and a projector, or as i described it in my notes, "a biblically accurate zoom")

his pals thinks its related to the nearby UFO hot spot, and offer this fun fact:

"no animal at the zoo has ever brought a pregnancy term" <- and yeah. i hit pause and yelled "WHAT" so quickly. hey. what's going on. are the aliens getting involved in their reproductive cycles??

frohike, the strange man who is always hitting on scully, hears mulder's phone ring and adds "if that's the lovely agent scully, let her know i've been working out" and i sentence him to a sentence of 10,000 years in the dungeons. (and this is a reduced sentence for his quick thinking in sneaking out her blood work when she was in coma mode)

she's calling to let him know that someone from the anti-captivity organization is breaking into the zoo!!! not a very good look for their cause!!! he climbs a fence to break in, and she looks around cautiously before doing the same. she is normally a ruler follower, after all.

where is this dude going?? to the... lions? he's setting up a camera?

ed the zookeeper has materialized behind scully, who explains she was following someone else, and then they go off into a warehouse area

but the activist dude is setting up his camera- probably just to record their poor conditions rather than anything nefarious, i think- when BAM! flash of light! terrible ruckus!!! tiger is invisible...?

activist man, you are going to be EATEN!!! and the camera is rolling while this happens!!!!

scully's trying to talk to kyle, the head of this whole organization, who is saying he doesn't know why the dude broke into the zoo, and he had nothing to do with it, and she says that if she finds out he was involved in getting that dude eaten by a tiger that she will have him charged

mulder comes to get her, and it's very cute.

she is mad!!!! "you know, that guy really pisses me off" she says, and mulder asks if she's calmed down- bad move, let her be angry- but he tells her that the video showed the attacker was INVISIBLE! even though she examined the body and it was CLEARLY mauled to death!!!! even more frustration ensues.

mulder decides he must question the gorilla... he is so open minded :)

(the gorilla has been taught sign language, so this is a thing you can actually do. but for a guy big into aliens, i don't think talking to a gorilla is really out of the picture, even if there was no known method of communication)

he asks her a few questions and gets very vague answers, learning that the gorilla really wanted a baby, and i'm like, where is this going... he says he is going to need scully's help and i'm thinking... is he going to have her give the gorilla a pregnancy test.....

not quite! it is ELEPHANT AUTOPSY TIME!!!

he is watching all this go on from above and commenting and NOT soiling his pristine suit by getting inside the elephant guts which made me laugh. just watch 'em do the dirty work big guy. i guess he wouldn't know what the hell he was looking at anyway. but with all the other random shit he knows maybe he WOULD know how to identify elephant pregnancy.

and his hunch is correct: scully says the elephant had been pregnant, delivering this news in very fancy medical terms while her face and clothes are covered in elephant gore. oh yeah baby. that's fbi work.

(she is so brave because i would Not have been able to do any work with elephant blood on my face)

okay okay now the tiger that got out has been tracked to a building... and the naturalist really really does NOT want to have to shoot him... but ed the animal beater does, and he kills the tiger!!!!!! what is he hiding....

this poor naturalist, who i am suspicious of, is just taking L after L, and dead tiger is not helping

and GUESS WHAT? tiger was pregnant at one point, too!!! even though there were no efforts to make that happen!!!! how could this be??

"what do you know about alien abduction?" he asks her, entirely serious. she laughs and we see his deadpan face. it never gets old seeing people think he is deeply strange and unusual.

he proposes that perhaps the aliens are taking the pregnant animals and their embryos, and then dropping them back down on earth, which the naturalist describes as "the most ridiculous thing i've ever heard". she has not opened her mind to the idea of the space-time continuum turning them invisible when they come back.

despite the hostile reception to his theories, he watches intently while she asks more questions to the gorilla in sign language. but as this is going down, she is given an order to put the gorilla into custody. another L.

faced with the thought of losing her gorilla, she goes to kyle, who she begs for help, and when he says that she should let the gorilla go back into the wild, she yells "she's MINE, kyle" which is a lot. and he refuses to help. honestly he was kinda rude about it but i understand sticking to your morals.

but he seems to change his mind, because he comes to the zoo at night, calling out for her. and i'm thinking, no, an invisible animal is gonna eat you!!!! but this isn't what happens... something FALLS ON HIM and KILLS HIM!!!! huh???

scully figures out that kyle and the naturalist knew each other, and asks if she went over to his office to ask for help, which she denies. because she is a liar. and she is also deeply mad, and says "why don't you ask agent mulder, he seems to have a novel theory... maybe it was alien abduction" okay queen this is even ruder like he is trying to HELP you

mulder thinks that SHE killed kyle so she could keep the gorilla... which would be tea...

he investigates the cage and he uses a pen to avoid making any fingerprints... will be employing this tactic if i am ever at a crime scene investigation....

he sees ed, the trainer slash animal beater taking off, with guns!!!

back in her office, the naturalist is packing up all the things from her office, including a framed photo of her smooching the gorilla... (sabrina brier voice) oh!

scully is like well ur actually not gonna leave right away. because it looks like kyle was kinda murdered. and she says it was an accident, ed was scared and hit him with a cattle prod. and out of desperation, she gave ed the gorilla. THE ANIMAL BEATER?? you gave HIM your precious baby??? girl.... these decisions.....

back at a warehouse he tracked down ed to, mulder is holding him at gunpoint, which he is remarkably good at doing

the gorilla is going ham because she is in a weird and dark place and mulder says ed, you're gonna have to tranquilize her... but when they open the door, he doesn't shoot and instead leaves mulder in the room with an outraged gorilla!!!! no, mulder, we all shout!! she pummels him, and he doesn't seem to know sign language, so there is a immovable language barrier!!!!

but she backs off from pummeling him, which is good, because gorillas are horrific and CAN kill you.

(and i semi-recently saw a gorilla at the zoo so i'm looking at this one, and i'm trying to figure out if it's a real creature or a dude in a suit... pls someone feel free to share what the truth is. i mean if they got an elephant actor maybe they could hire a gorilla one too... but it looks off. kind of like a guy in a suit. so i'm thinking about that episode of spongebob with the scary guy in a gorilla suit. which was honestly a scary episode!!! but i digress. mulder locked in with gorilla)

OH. LIGHT FLASH! alien time....?

he wakes up on the floor with a bloody head from gorilla pummeling, and scully bursts in, trying to get him to stay still because there is a big bleeding wound on his head, a place you do not want a big wound to be. she is really doing her best to wrangle him and take a look, but he is too wiggly for this.

the naturalist is at the scene, and he does the sign language the gorilla did back to her, which was quite good. if i saw a gorilla do sign language after it beat me i would not remember how she moved its hands. good memory on that mulder guy.

they get a call for an animal in a field, and of course, it is the gorilla, who was hit by a car, and the naturalist sobs into her... fur? hair? as she dies. a tragic end to a gorilla life.

mulder wraps the case up, asking the hard hitting questions: are aliens stealing zoo animals to breed them and steal the embryos, and then preserve them? is it archival or conservationist in nature? he gets very philosophical, as he always does when writing a report. and i can imagine skinner reading this and saying "... okay" and then not saying anything else.

so, what did i think? well, i think they aren't gonna want to recreationally visit a zoo for a while, which kills that one fantasy of mine, but don't worry, i'll make them go to a museum instead. and if there is museum related trauma in a future episode we can work around that.

honestly though, was this episode the best? nah. but was it campy? yeah. the aliens made the tiger invisible, dude. how could you not love that?

i do think this episode was trying to partake in the growing discussion of animal captivity and ethics, especially in the wake of the elephant incident of 1994, and i'm not sure if it really takes a stance beyond "hurting animals is bad". i suppose if anything it comes off looking like it supports the anti-zoo agenda, which is still something that is in the public discourse. i know because i follow a lot of zoos on instagram and there is always someone in the comments saying that the creatures should be free and then someone else countering that they are super endangered and actually he is doing just fine in his cage, eating an appropriately designed cake for his needs. but that discourse hasn't left the public sphere, so it's interesting to see it represented here.

and maybe aliens ARE interested in conservation. i would personally just take the whole animals rather than stealing their embryos and leaving the creatures on the side of the highway, but what do i know? not much in terms of tigers.

i liked seeing scully get pissed off, i thought that was really funny. but overall, this episode was more intersting to me in terms of cultural commentary and outlandish plot than character devlopment. which is fine!!! we need a break from the heaviness of the last two episodes.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Ken Klippenstein:

It all started with Hamas’ October 7, 2023 attack on Israel and concerns about anti-Semitic content on the social media platform TikTok. It all ended with a classified briefing and a foolish attempt, still alive, to ban the social media platform. The company’s ownership by China never was the driving force in Congress eventually taking action. This week at the Munich Security Conference, Sen. Mark Warner, the top Democrat on the intelligence committee, played “I’ve got a secret.” It’s a game national security officialdom loves to play, slyly claiming authority ‘if they could only tell you what they know.’ It is in that vein that Warner spilled the beans on what he called the “real story” behind the law that could still ban TikTok. “I want to see if you're going to tell the real story,” a grinning Warner said, addressing former congressman Mike Gallagher, and now a Palantir executive who, along with Warner, first introduced the bill that claimed that TikTok was a national security threat, a claim still relevant given the app’s uncertain future. Gallagher described how the national security bill was dead until Hamas’ attack on Israel, which brought the legislation back to life. 

The account by Gallagher makes explicit something there have been hints of for some time. Israeli officials and lobbyists told everyone that would listen in Washington that TikTok’s algorithm fueled American youth opposition to the Israel-Hamas war. As I reported last year, a State Department source told me that a high-ranking Israeli diplomat was ranting about the supposed malign role of some Chinese-manufactured algorithm, purposely dismissive of the reality that the college protesters’ outrage was  sincere, that it was about Israel’s military conduct in Gaza and not some “foreign malign influence” campaign hatched in Beijing. NPR at about the same time reported on a memo written by Israel Foreign Ministry Deputy Director General Emmanuel Nahshon, which blamed TikTok’s algorithm for “turning young people against Israel.”

[...] So the “real story” is pretty simple. Congress chose to take action essentially to suppress speech and protect Israel. The Biden administration hid behind China in its justification as to why a ban was essential. The classified briefing — still secret — did the dirty work. “Conspired” indeed, as Gallagher said. They’ve got a secret. They always do. And that leaves nothing for the public to push back on, which is the true conspiracy.

Turns out that the TikTok ban signed into law by former President Biden was predicated over concerns about “anti-Israel” content.

[mijonwoods]

Don’t Speak Just Look

Jan, 2025

By Mi’jon L. Woods

Dear Book,

I’m reminiscing over the last poignant moment we had last week before you trashed me…matching stuffed Basquiat Doc Marten shoes and standing for two hours, talking, and sharing a joint outside the Myrtle Avenue stop.

I remember staring at the fallen eyelash under your right eye. I wanted to reach out, and softly sweep it off your cheek but my arms stayed superglued to my sides out of nervousness.

The first time we met I mentioned I was from LA and that triggered you to talk about the most mundane sh*t, you mentioned you liked to stay at the Edition Hotel in Weho in a cloud of name-dropping and asking about my opinion on Hollywood stories. From what I cared to hear, You didn’t go anywhere under Mid-City and that was only to Veg out at the Taco Bell on Venice and S La Brea. But I listened earnestly, you were so incredibly attractive, similar to one of those Terracotta sculptures from 13 BCE that I’ve seen at the MET. Those deep maroon eyes yanked me in and I was swimming in a pool of cinnamon.

Your voice was also sonically, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever trained myself to listen to. It gave me a warm but queasy feeling. Like when I heat up and drink my cheap instant Trader Joe’s coffee mix that’s been sitting in the back of my cabinet for four years. No, you felt more worthy than that comparison…maybe like the Pinot Noir I let go sour a little bit but it was beautiful and made me feel nostalgic so I drank it and let it f*ck up my stomach anyways. My ears became my mouth, turning your stumbled weed rants into a cozy bean bag NPR lecture session. You wore a Marni top that day with some Levi’s you expertly thrifted when we were in Paris this summer. I assessed myself and started spiraling in the process. I wondered what you’d thought of me. Whether I was worldly and pretty enough. If I had worn too little or too much makeup or if my cornrows and nails intimidated you. I began to get nauseated and sweaty at the thought.

When I flew back home to Los Angeles today I scrolled through your Instagram highlights when I got home. My eyes squinted and turned green as I suffered silently on my couch and hugged my Studiolo pillows in comfort. Pictures of people you called your friends, and you made sure to tag them too. A man whose only social merit is Instagram tags…You stopped texting me by that time now.

All I had left was the pile of your clothes in a large decrepit and decorative mountain on the side of my room. Unfortunately, it was one of my favorite things about our encounters. Every time we’d f*ck or make love you’d scoop me up in your arms. In the morning we’d wake up and you’d dress me up in clothes from your closet like a personal doll. We’d both expressed our love through fashion and you dressing me was another version of intercourse.

When you made love to me like I was your soulmate. In the morning you’d bend down to your knees, smell my sex, and button up a crafted and clean Yamamoto or Lauren from the bottom up…and that special, sweaty, sweet, and sticky night in June; When you laid on top of me and gazed into my eyes so nakedly, like a spouse, you brought out your Tom Oldham pants to match the Lauren button up. On nights where you’d opened me up like an exhibitionist…In the morning it was your Gautier, or a see-through Owen’s when you wanted to stare at my nipples and eat when we visited Balzem by your apartment to refuel from the night.

My favorite moments though, ironically, were when we were unclothed. My mom grew up a naked hippie in the 70s and that tradition passed on to her offspring. I walked around naked when I felt comfortable in a space. At first, you looked at me with a mixture of shock, lewdness, and unfamiliarity, then adopted the practice. We often stood face to face, unclothed sweetly smiling into each other’s faces. No designers to interpret your feelings, no labels, no consumerism. In those moments we transcended all layers: body mass, illnesses, ethnicity, addictions, race, class, sexuality, genitalia, and became one.

The knot in my throat stung and grew to the size of a rock-solid apple when I noticed you’d brought out your old archived photos of pictures where you felt magnetic or wealthy and archived the only one of us. A bright yellow Canary ready to sing the song of Singledom. I criticized your posts as I scrolled. The pictures you unarchived, although handsome, were the ones I took and had a woman’s gaze. You were a single Canary, but a domesticated one with a hidden ownership tag thanks to me. Other intelligent females would see it, fluff up their feathers, and remove nesting material.

I began to do the philosophical mental gymnastics to throw you up from my mind and move on. Maybe we didn’t bump into each other on Myrtle Avenue and Grove Street. Maybe we didn’t have all those moments together. The shopping, the clubs, the drugs, the s*x, our apartments in the city and shared red Malboros. Or when you raced your father’s new GTB Fiorano down Avenue de la Costa and in the middle the thrill of Don Toliver versus and wind ripping through our ears, I’d lay my head down in your lap, open my mouth, and love on your skin…that was simply a vulgar hallucination.

The quiet mornings where I would lay on your legs in your work chair in your oversized Lorenzo sweater were fake too. I hated that day when we went shopping and got that sweater. You became obsessed with a specific Ben Shapiro podcast episode and got into “self improvement” and quit coke so you were extra cranky that day. We were at Reloaded on Melrose. I despised how shopping had become such a hunting ground and couldn’t stand it unless I was piss-poor drunk or high. Even though we grew up trust fund babies I hated almost everything about status and consumerism now. I didn’t actively seek it out, I followed whomever made me feel passionate, and helplessly fell into it. If after I picked myself up off the ground from diving off of my mental Petit Jean Mountain, whether it be cabin boys or Hollywood’s elite, it didn’t matter because I was with my love.

You were so assertive, so steady, and sure with the way things were. And didn’t plan on venturing out of our circle. “This is our birthright. Don’t you understand? Our lust, our carnality, was approved by our forefathers. We are descendants of conquerors, owners, cultural movers, and leaders of society. It’s not my fault these side characters of our lives weren’t born into the right family, this is a deal ordained by God. Eat the Nobu, buy the Murakami sculptures for your bedroom, and go visit your horse again for Christ's sake he’s getting lonely in Malibu! Who cares about the bottom of the world when you’re at its zenith? When I go downstairs to eat my breakfast I look at an Alberto Giacometti piece. I don’t give a f*ck about another world.” you said as you stacked up piles of Lorenzo tops and sweaters.

The uncouth speech came out in a seductive Bene Gesserit-esque E2-B1 octave so I rolled my eyes at the ignorance but stood silent and weak-willed. As usual. I thought my love was different so I would change your foundation. Eventually, I hypothesized. You made your way to the front of the boutique and threw pieces and your credit card on the counter. You liked the sound of the hard metal clanking on the marble but rolled your eyes when the sales associate didn’t properly fold the garments into the totes.

Maybe it was all just a dream. A psychological attack I had implanted in my brain by grandiose delusions of love whenever the reality of you was too much to bear. Maybe it was the sign of the times. I logged in on Twitter typed a swift and freeing “BYE N****” posted on my timeline, and logged out.

[lemoncrushh]

Seven Six Five - Part One

Summary: They met once seven years ago. Now music has made them cross paths again.

Warnings: smut, body image issues, angst. 18+ ONLY!

A/N: Enemies to Lovers. This was originally written and posted in 2020, right before the pandemic, so the story takes place then with flashbacks of 2013. Harry Styles x Plus Size OC, written in third person.

Part One Word Count: 3.9k+

STORY PAGE

20 February, 2020 - New York, NY, USA

Dancing freely in her bathroom while a classic Dusty Springfield vinyl played on the turntable in the other room, Bronwyn grabbed her toothbrush, momentarily pretending it was a microphone. Just as she spread a healthy strip of paste on the brush and she popped it into her mouth, she heard the all too familiar ringtone chime from her phone, drowned out by Dusty’s confession of only wanting to be with you.

Bronwyn danced over to her bed to see who was calling, grateful she was able to work from home and make her own schedule. Seeing a familiar number, she knew the caller would leave a message, or perhaps a text, so she resumed her morning routine and spit out her toothpaste.

It wasn’t until she’d slipped into a pair of leggings and one of her favorite oversized tees, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, the needle safely removed from the vinyl, that she decided to check her phone for messages. As suspected, the caller had left a voicemail.

“Bronwyn, darling, it’s Antonella. Forgive me for being a little last minute on this, but I have a prospective job for you,” sang the familiar voice, her Italian accent flourishing both of their names. “Actually, I think you’ll be perfect for it, so don’t say no. It’s in D.C., and it’s for NPR Music. I’ll email you the details. Ciao.”

Her jaw dropped, Bronwyn nearly jumped for joy. NPR Music. That had to be the Tiny Desk concert series. One of her favourite things to do on free nights, or when her mind just wasn’t on her work, was to check out the newest video on NPR’s website. She’d discovered so many new artists just from that series, and a couple of them she’d managed to photograph and review at later concerts. She was thrilled with the prospect of being able to see one of the Tiny Desk shows in person and wondered who the artist might be.

Tapping on the email icon on her phone, she eagerly waited for the newest emails to load, the top one being from Antonella. Hastily opening it, she beamed as she read the mundane details of the job, the address, the date and time...until she saw the name.

ARTIST: HARRY STYLES

Instantly frowning, she dropped her shoulders and released a sigh.

“Bloody hell,” she muttered to herself. “Anyone but him.”

Staring at the screen, her vision blurred until she blinked and shook her head.

“No,” she said aloud. “No, I can’t do it.”

Quickly finding Antonella’s number, Bronwyn tapped the phone to ring her, biting her lip as the call went straight to voicemail.

“‘Ello, Antonella, it’s Bronwyn. Listen, I got your message and your email. Unfortunately...I don’t think I’ll be able to take this job. It’s just...not for me. Conflict of interest or what have you. Hopefully you’ll be able to find someone else in a pinch. Sorry, love.”

Disconnecting the call, Bronwyn fell back on her bed, her head hitting the pile of pillows. Shutting her eyes tight, she willed her mind to push away the memory of him. Though it had been nearly seven years since that night, it sometimes felt like yesterday. She had tried her best to forget it had ever happened, that they had ever crossed paths. She supposed if it had been anyone else, she could have gotten over it like she had any other time she’d been disappointed or heart-broken, humiliated or angry. But because he was...him...he managed to pop up now and then, when she’d least expected it, and most unfortunately when she hadn’t wanted him to.

She had a great life now. London was not only across the ocean, but years behind her. She’d struggled a bit when she’d first moved to New York, but after getting her foot in the door and finally making a name for herself, she’d settled into a routine and lifestyle that she’d always dreamt of. Harry bloody Styles was most certainly not a part of it.

Rising from the bed, Bronwyn made her way to her tiny kitchen to pour herself a cup of tea. She’d just sat down at the small table in the corner, her cup in one hand, a steaming danish in the other when her phone chimed its agitating tune once again. Frowning when she saw Antonella’s name displayed on the screen, she let the danish fall onto her plate and wiped her hands on the napkin.

“This is Bronwyn,” she sang into the speaker, hoping she didn’t sound too fake.

“Darling, what do you mean you can’t take this job?” the Italian woman’s voice boomed. “I arranged this for you ‘specially! Everybody else is booked or out of town that day. I have no one else.”

“I’m sorry, Antonella, I just-”

“Conflict of interest, ppfff!” she interrupted. “I won’t hear of it. It’s a job, my love, not a blind date. You just take photographs and submit your review the way you’ve always done.”

Bronwyn sighed, feeling defeated. She knew Antonella was right...to a degree. And she wasn’t about to spill her guts about her history - or lack thereof - with a certain ex-boybander to her agent.

“I’m not going to beg, Bronwyn,” remarked Antonella. “It’s your career. But I try to get you jobs I think suit you and your personality. Jobs that you’d be proud to stamp your name on. I think you’d be perfect for this, but… I guess I can call Dennis.”

“Dennis listens to 90s college rock and complains about millennials and Starbucks.”

“He’s all I’ve got left.”

“Fine,” Bronwyn surrendered. “I’ll do it.”

“You’re an angel, doll, you know that?” cheered Antonella.

“Yeah, yeah. Just let me know when I’ve earned my wings.”

25 February, 2020 - Washington, D.C., USA

“Thank you,” Bronwyn smiled at the young woman with the bright pink lipstick - Katia, she thought her name was - when she handed her a small bottle of water.

“No problem! Let me know if I can get you anything else.” Katia bounced on her heels and returned her attention elsewhere before Bronwyn had the chance to make another request.

As the room began to fill with more people, she felt herself get a bit stuffy, so she removed her grey cardigan, shoving it into one of her bags before checking her camera one last time.

“Oh cool, I get to stand by the photographer!” she heard someone exclaim, and she looked up to see a thin, toothy girl with ombre hair.

Bronwyn copied her grin, flipping her curls off her shoulders just as Katia returned with an announcement, explaining what was about to happen. The girl next to her squeezed her friend’s hand and squealed when Katia mentioned Harry’s name. Trying her best not to gag or roll her eyes, Bronwyn stood straight, clearing her throat and lifting her camera to prepare for the singer’s arrival.

It’s just a job, she told herself, remembering Antonella’s words. I can do this.

Three seconds later, Katia was gone and a huge raucous sounded down the hall. Almost immediately, a tall, thin man with his hair pulled back came into view, followed by an equally slender woman in a red t-shirt. Bronwyn watched as they headed for the L shaped desk, the man picking up a guitar that sat behind it, the woman taking a seat behind the drums that were set up in the corner. Soon, two more women followed - one grabbing an acoustic guitar, the other taking her place in front of the keyboard - and another tall man who slung a bass guitar over his shoulder. Taking several quick shots of the band members, Bronwyn almost missed his entrance until he was literally stood in front of her. Through the lense of her camera, she saw him wave at the small crowd before walking around the desk to a stool that awaited him. It was only then that she noticed his ridiculous blue jumper, a hatched chicken adorning the front of it with the french words Mon Petit.

Bronwyn felt herself snort before she could stop it. “Oh my God, you’ve got to be joking!”

But when she turned her head in search of someone in agreement, she was only met with ombre girl whose grin was toothier than ever.

“He looks amazing!” she cried, her hand clenched to her chest.

“Right, then,” Bronwyn nodded, resuming her task at hand.

Taking a few more photos, she watched as Harry and the band got situated, and he began an introduction to the first song, a tune called “Cherry” which Bronwyn found to be a surprising choice.

She’d spent most of the weekend listening to Harry’s new album, Fine Line. While she’d struggled to even get started, putting it off until well after midnight on Saturday morning during the middle of a bottle of wine, she’d decided she needed to familiarise herself with at least some of his music if she was going to write any sort of review. Having given the album one listen through, she admitted to herself that it was pretty good. By four in the morning and a few more listens, she’d admitted it was pretty fucking brilliant.

But she still hated him.

Personal feelings aside, Bronwyn had packed up her camera and drove to D.C. that morning. Even she knew that when it came to the entertainment industry, you couldn’t take things personally. She had to try her best to separate her disdain for Harry Styles from the music he made.

Throughout Harry’s short set, Bronwyn continued to snap photos, glad to focus on the other band members whenever she felt a little flutter in her chest or pang in her heart. She especially felt one when Harry would speak between the songs, because hearing him talk only reminded her of that night seven years ago. She detected a slightly deeper timbre to his voice, but it was his voice just the same. And it made her cringe. Not because she didn’t like it...but because she did.

Please stop fucking talking, she thought. Why d’you gotta be so bloody charming? Just shut up already.

By the last song, Harry made a joke which sent the room into a roar of laughter. Bronwyn groaned, hoping this whole entire soiree would be over soon and she could go home. Just when she was about to lift her camera once again, however, the horrible inevitable happened. Before she could even blink, their eyes locked. Frozen in her spot, she willed herself to look down at her camera and bring it back up to do her job. She rolled her eyes at herself this time after she cleared her throat, as if that was going to do anything for the color that she felt rising up her neck and to her cheeks. And as though that wasn’t horrifying enough, when she went to snap the photo, she caught the dimpled grin on his face. He was fucking smiling at her.

What an arsehole!

As her stomach twisted into the tightest of knots, and she felt the sudden instinct to take a seat before she collapsed in front of a room full of strangers, she heard another squeal next to her.

“Omigod, did you see that? Was he smiling at us?” exclaimed ombre girl to her friend.

Yes, thought Bronwyn. Yes, please be smiling at them!

“Ughhhh he’s soooo hotttt!” screeched ombre’s friend as she leant into her mate’s shoulder, as though she was the one about to faint.

Yes, it was for fans, Bronwyn told herself. He didn’t recognise me. It was for them.

Much to her relief, the song finished and Harry’s set was over. He rose from his little stool and waved to everyone with a big thank you. Bronwyn watched as the band filed out of the room, and within minutes, Katia made her reappearance.

“Thank you so much for being here,” she cheered, clapping her hands together. “I hope you had a good time. Now if you’ll kindly start exiting slowly to the left. Be sure you’ve taken all of your belongings.”

Bronwyn listened to the chatter from the audience as they began to leave. Preparing her camera bag, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Are your photos gonna be online?” asked ombre girl.

Bronwyn couldn’t help but smile. “Yes. Should be sometime tomorrow morning.”

“Awesome! I follow all social media having to do with Harry, so I’m sure I’ll see them!”

“Alright then,” said Bronwyn, slipping her arms back into her grey cardigan. “Take care.”

It felt like an eternity when Bronwyn finally had her things together and packed up properly. Turning for the exit, she nearly bumped into Katia whose pink lips were stretched into a wide smile.

“Thank you so much for everything!” she said. “My boss told me it was a last minute thing to get you here, and we appreciate it!”

“Oh, no worries,” Bronwyn gave a tight smile. “Please let me know if you ever need me for another show. This was...fun.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Katia agreed gleefully, missing Bronwyn’s hesitation. “Harry’s such a doll. We’ve wanted him here for ages!”

Bronwyn nodded, side-swiping the comment about Harry. “I just really love this concept. I’ve watched every video on your website.”

Katia tilted her head to the side. “Aw, well that’s good to hear. We’re so glad there’s an audience for us.”

Bronwyn continued to give her best fake smile as she slung her bag onto her shoulder.

“Well, I should be going. Thanks again.”

“Oh yes, thank you! Be sure to give your badge to Laura on your way out.”

With another nod, Bronwyn finally made her way to the lift, already taking mental notes of what she planned to say in the article. If not for being focused on that, she might have seen him when the lift doors opened. Instead, she walked straight toward the desk where she’d remembered picking up her badge. The brunette that she recognised from that morning gave her a smile and a thank you as she accepted the lanyard before quickly shifting her eyes to the left. Following the young woman’s gaze, Bronwyn nearly gasped when she saw Harry and another man walking in her direction. Hesitating for only a moment, she swiftly turned for the doors, hoping he didn’t see her.

“Oh, Miss!” cried Laura. “You forgot to sign out!”

“Shit!” Bronwyn cursed under her breath.

Quickly, she took a few steps back and grabbed a pen from the little plastic holder on the desk. She’d just finished signing her name on the line and dropped the pen in the cubby when she heard her name again.

“Bronwyn.”

Lifting her head, she was met with the hideous blue jumper and a lopsided grin.

“Harry.”

“I thought it was you,” he said, grinning wider. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah…” Bronwyn sighed, combing her fingers through her hair. Not long enough, she thought to herself. “Yeah, it has.”

“How’ve you been?”

“Oh you know...I’ve been alright.”

“Still a music photographer, I see,” Harry commented, gesturing at her bag. “Do you work for NPR?”

“No, I’m freelance.” Bronwyn noticed her answers were short and sweet. She only hoped Harry noticed as well.

“Wonderful!” Harry praised. “So you live in the states now?”

Bronwyn nodded. “New York, actually.”

“Wow, good for you, Bronwyn.”

Looking away towards the front doors, she half rolled her eyes, tugging the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

“I’m surprised you remembered my name,” Bronwyn remarked.

She couldn’t help but catch the tiny smirk and the bashful look on his face.

“Yeah, well...I don’t usually make it a point to remember the names of women who turn me down, but...”

Bronwyn scoffed incredulously. “Turn you down?”

Was he making a joke? If so, Bronwyn found it to be in poor taste. So much so, that she tasted the bitterness on her tongue. Oblivious however, Harry shrugged, his smirk spreading, which only fueled the resentment that Bronwyn was holding in. She thought it was very smug.

“I reckon you made an impression on me,” remarked Harry. Then he leant forward, his hand on his chest. “Even though you broke my heart.”

Bronwyn narrowed her eyes, shocked at his nerve. “You’re unbelievable.”

Staring at him, Bronwyn could tell he hadn’t realised she was serious at first, and that she was not describing him in a positive light. Ever so slightly, Harry’s grin began to falter, as though Bronwyn herself had stuck a pin in his dimple, and all the air oozed out, causing him to frown. Just as his mouth opened to speak, however, the man she’d seen him walking with earlier interrupted their conversation with a hand on his arm.

“H, we need you over here a minute,” he said, barely acknowledging Bronwyn.

“Sorry,” Harry apologised, looking her in the eye. “I’ll be right back.”

Bronwyn watched as Harry and the other bloke turned their backs, their voices hushed. Dropping her shoulders in a sigh, she took it as a free out and headed for the doors once again. A stealthy exit, however, was not to be. As soon as her hand reached the push bar, she heard him calling for her.

“Where are you going?” he asked, catching up with her.

“Have to get home,” she replied curtly with a raised brow. “Write this review.”

“You’re not staying in D.C.?”

“‘Fraid not.”

“Oh.”

For a moment, Bronwyn could detect the disappointment in his tone and on his face. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“I was hoping we could go for… drinks or coffee… y’know, catch up.”

Gripping the strap of her bag so tightly, she was certain it was cutting off the circulation in her fingers, she shook her head, determined not to let her guard down.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, Harry.”

A sound came from behind him, and they both looked to see a small group of people gesturing for him, his band included.

“We’re ready for you, H,” one of them called.

Harry slowly turned his head back to Bronwyn, a defeated expression on his face. Bronwyn pursed her lips, nodding toward the group.

“Looks like you have plenty to do anyway,” she said.

Without another word, she pushed the door open with her elbow, backing out of the building. Before turning down the sidewalk, she let the door close, leaving Harry Styles staring at her in bewilderment.

20 August, 2013 - London, England, UK

Bronwyn was grateful to finally be rid of her camera for the evening. Having found a place to lock it away, she headed for the large room where the after party was being held. She’d barely crossed the threshold before a waiter greeted her with a tray of champagne glasses. Graciously accepting one, she took a large sip. As soon as the liquor coated her throat, she threw her head back with a sigh.

This wasn’t the first job she’d taken for a red carpet event. But it was definitely the loudest. A veteran of not only the boy band phenomena, but that of rock and pop bands in general, she was certainly not new to the extremities of fandom. But Jesus Christ… as much as she loathed the comparison, she couldn’t help but imagine this was similar to what Beatlemania had been.

Admittedly, she didn’t know that much about One Direction. She’d heard a few songs, and she considered them decent, catchy at best. She’d learnt a bit more about them tonight from watching their film, and she could safely say they were quite alright. They were young, silly boys with loads of fans...half of whom must have been at the premiere if the ringing in her ears was any indication.

Bronwyn perused the room for a bit, recognising several faces from the red carpet earlier. Feeling her stomach rumble, she made her way around the perimeter toward the large buffet. She hadn’t quite reached it, however, when another waiter came by with more champagne. With a smile, Bronwyn handed him her now empty glass and accepted a new one. She’d just brought it to her lips when her gaze was met with another set of eyes and a smirk.

“Ah, so she does have a face. Thought maybe it was just a camera for a head.”

“Sorry?” she asked, slowly lowering her glass.

“You’re a photographer, right?”

Bronwyn smiled slyly. “Yes. Among other things.”

The smirk on his face slowly turned into a wide grin.

“I saw you out front,” he said, stepping closer. “At the red carpet.”

Bronwyn raised her brows in question. “How could you? There were loads of us.”

“Your outfit,” he said, pointing at her dress and boots. “I reckon you were the only one wearing anything close to that.”

Bronwyn looked down at the clothes she’d picked out for the night. She wore a vintage inspired floral dress that stopped mid-thigh and brown, knee-length, platform boots.

“Hmm, I suppose I am original,” she commented.

“I like original,” he said, lifting his own glass to his lips, one that certainly contained something other than champagne.

Bronwyn gave her own smirk then, feeling a blush on her cheeks just as a familiar song began to play, one of her favourites from the 70s.

“Finally, some good tunes!” she exclaimed at the ceiling before glancing back at the tall boy. “No offense.”

“None taken,” he said with a low chuckle.

Bronwyn could feel his eyes on her as she began to sing along and sway to the music.

“You like old stuff?” she heard him ask.

Twirling around to face him, she beamed. “I like anything that’s good.”

“Me too. What’s your name?”

“Bronwyn.”

“That’s pretty. ‘s that Welsh?”

Bronwyn stopped dancing, a tiny bit surprised he knew that. “Yeah. It is.”

“Do you speak Welsh?”

Bronwyn shook her head with a pout. “‘Fraid Not. Lived in London all my life. My dad’s mum is Welsh though, and she chose my name.”

“I see.”

“I came so close to being called Rhiannon,” Bronwyn continued, her hips threatening to sway as she held onto her champagne glass with both hands. “Can you imagine? I could’ve been a Stevie Nicks song!”

Throwing his head back, the tall boy let out a loud chuckle. The sound did something to Bronwyn, though she couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. She just knew she liked it.

“That would have been great, I’ll admit,” he expressed. “I love Stevie.”

“You do?”

At his nod, Bronwyn stared at him for a moment, a smile slowly spreading across her face as she took him in. She remembered taking his photo several times, as well as the other band members, and she definitely had to admit he looked very dashing.

“Which one are you again?” she inquired, her long curls falling over her shoulder as she tilted her head. “I mean, I did watch the movie, I just get mixed up sometimes.”

“I’m Harry.”

“Oh yes, Harry Styles,” Bronwyn confirmed, pointing her finger before placing the tip on her lips. “The youngest lad of the group. The one who worked in a bakery.”

Harry giggled again, making Bronwyn aware of the flutter in her chest.

“That would be me,” he said.

Bronwyn stepped even closer, erasing the majority of space between them. “The cute one.”

Harry raised his brows as Bronwyn smiled up at him.

“And the one with good music taste,” she added.

Harry’s dimples dipped deeper in his cheeks as he grinned wider. Pleased with the encounter so far, Bronwyn extended her hand for a shake.

“Nice to meet you, Harry.”

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[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from NPR:

Visitors can hear Björk's immersive, otherworldly soundscape, Nature Manifesto, over the next few weeks as they climb the long, glass escalator that hugs the side of Centre Pompidou in Paris, France.

Björk is not only an Icelandic pop star, but also an avant-garde artist and climate activist. Her new sound installation blends the noises of endangered and extinct animals with her own voice, reading text she co-wrote alongside editor and photographer Aleph Molinari.

"It is an emergency. The apocalypse has already happened. And how we will act now is essential," Björk recites over an array of ear-tingling wildlife noises that are sometimes natural, sometimes otherworldly. "In a pioneering sound strata of mutant peacocks, bees, and lemurs, biology will reassemble in new ways."

Created with IRCAM (Institut de Recherche et Coordination Acoustique/Musique), a preeminent music and sound research institute based in Paris, the installation employs field recordings of animal sounds. Some of these were manipulated using artificial intelligence.

"As you go up the escalator, you go through all these different sonic worlds," said IRCAM sound artist Robin Meier Wiratunga, who collaborated with Björk on the installation. "We have orangutans, mosquitoes, beluga whales, and then when you reach the top floor, the climactic musical event, which we lovingly call the 'Dolphin Disco.'" 

[maditalksmusic]

"WE'RE BIKINI KILL AND WE WANT REVOLUTION!"

is the opening statement of feminist punk band Bikini Kill’s song “Double Dare Ya”, one of their most famous songs challenging girls to always be unabashedly themselves. It’s a line that resonates through every song they’ve ever put out and every show they’ve performed.

Last Sunday, after finishing a horrible calculus assignment, I needed to find something to do with myself before I lashed out at anyone who crossed my path, some sort of way to diffuse my anger at the stupidity of simplifying 42 useless radical inequalities and difference quotients. I saw an Instagram ad for a Bikini Kill show at the Brooklyn Paramount in three hours. I texted every one of my new, cool college Instagram mutuals who I’d maybe met once who I thought may be a fellow Riot Grrrl fan, but nobody could go. I knew going alone was risky, but the ticket was $30. It was too good of a deal to pass up. I went back to my apartment, changed into my plaid skirt and Docs, threw my hair into the coolest claw clip style I could pull off in 5 minutes, and got on the next train to New York City. 

An hour and a half, one face-plant in Penn Station, an out of service Subway line, and a sprint through Manhattan in platforms to the next stop of the D train later, I made it to the venue. It was only 30 minutes before the opener, Sweeping Promises, came on, and I assumed there would be a line out the door. When I just walked right through security without waiting for a single second, I was shocked. I figured I would be squeezing into the middle of that standing-room-only space like a canned sardine, but I waltzed right up to the barricade. Watching people fill in behind me was fascinating. I was under the impression I’d be one of the youngest people there, until I started seeing waves of 13-16 year old girls coming in buzzing with excitement, followed closely by their fathers in vintage punk merch who probably played basement shows every weekend in their late teens and early twenties. 

Kathi Wilcox on bass guitar during "Alien She", shot by me

I started listening to Bikini Kill when I was 13. They were one of the first bands that played “real music” (essentially anything that isn’t top 40 radio pop) that I started listening to. Hearing Kathleen Hanna singing, or more accurately melodically screaming, these songs about everything from feminism to political activism to standing up to sexual harassment over a gorgeously aggressive drum beat from Tobi Vail while Kathi Wilcox shreds on bass, made something in my brain click into place. Suddenly I realized that even at my age, I could be aware of what was going on in the world, and I could start to challenge these issues, even if it was only on a personal scale. Hearing “Double Dare Ya” live, standing five feet from the stage, hearing every girl in the room singing along, feeling the physical energy radiating from all of those people who felt the same, while making eye contact with Kathleen Hanna was possibly the most impactful moment of my life thus far. It’s easy to forget how important it is to let your frustrations out not only by yourself, but in a public space sometimes. In May, Hanna spoke with NPR on the subject. It’s healthy to cope with emotions on your own, but the experience of letting it all out with other people who are right there with you is unparalleled. This public release of anger is one of the things Bikini Kill prioritizes, and it’s highly evident in the electric energy of their shows. 

Throughout the show, the band took moments to reflect on their history, and to appreciate each other, their friends, their inspirations, the people who have supported them, and their fan base. Hanna told stories that have inspired songs and albums, from her experience trying to join church choir as a young girl to the realities of experiencing assault and harassment on the basis of sex to the ways that losing friends too soon has affected her. A moment that particularly stood out was when she spoke on her late friend Mikey, who both she and Tobi Vail had known since they were teenagers. They fondly reminisced on the times they had together, and the shenanigans Mikey often enjoyed causing. Hanna then produced a neon pink fanny pack, and revealed that when Mikey passed five years ago, his mother gave her some of his ashes. This fanny pack goes to every show that Bikini Kill plays and as it turns out, is the vessel for Mikey’s remains. At first, this seemed rather morbid, and was clearly disturbing to some people in the crowd. There were gasps and nervous, shocked laughs around the room. But as Hanna explained why it was that fanny pack, it turned into a heartwarming moment, realizing that this way of honoring Mikey’s legacy, bringing his ashes on tour and keeping him with them not only in spirit but physically, is exactly what would have brought him happiness. This is highly reflective of Bikini Kill’s philosophy as a band and serves as a reminder for why they continue to do what they do. 

Over 30 years since their inception, Bikini Kill has stayed entirely true to their origins. Their sound and the messages they seek to convey haven’t changed since the 90s. Some might claim this is a sort of resistance to change, or a marker of being “behind the times”, but judging by the number of people under the age of 20 at that show, it couldn’t be further from the truth. This July, they made their television debut with a performance of “Rebel Girl”, one of their first songs, on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert. 

Authenticity is the defining characteristic of Bikini Kill. It’s their unbridled authenticity that makes it so powerful for them to play a song written in 1993 as their first televised performance 31 years later, because their style and their messages still ring true. It’s that authenticity that makes the environment of their shows so incredible. As an eighteen year old girl who was alone in New York, I had never felt safer than I did in that ~2500 person crowd. Bikini Kill continues to use their music to create spaces where women, queer people, or anyone else who goes against the status quo can come and be themself with utmost support. This is a band that has always catered to the youth with their punk-rock anthems of rebellion and empowerment, and in today’s political climate with reproductive rights and LGBTQ+ issues being at the top of the ballot, that’s more important than ever. They embody the true punk spirit, entirely unafraid to stand up for themselves and what they believe in, without regard to whether or not it’s deemed “socially acceptable”. Concerts like this are the reminders that all of us need to be the “rebel girl” in our community that refuses to be a bystander to social ills, remains honest to a fault, and is uncompromising in her values. These cathartic spaces are a necessity for everyone, and Bikini Kill’s commitment to ensuring their continued existence and the importance of expressing your anger is what fuels their ongoing success and solidifies their place in music history.

[jwood718]

Louisiana forbids public health workers from promoting COVID, flu and mpox shots

Rosemary Westwood at WWNO for NPR reports.

Just highlighting here.

A group of high-level managers at the Louisiana Department of Health walked into a Nov. 14 meeting in Baton Rouge expecting to talk about outreach and community events.

Instead, they were told by an assistant secretary in the department and another official that department leadership had a new policy: Advertising or otherwise promoting the COVID, influenza or mpox vaccines, an established practice there — and at most other public health entities in the U.S. — must stop.

This will not be a written policy, and there are apparently no official minutes of the meeting.

"I mean, do they want to dismantle public health?" one employee at the health department said.

"We're really talking about deaths," said another. "Even a reduction in flu and COVID vaccines can lead to increased deaths."

In a statement, the Louisiana Department of Health told NPR it has been "reevaluating both the state's public health priorities as well as our messaging around vaccine promotion, especially for COVID-19 and influenza."

The statement described the move as a shift "away from one-size-fits-all paternalistic guidance" to a stance in which "immunization for any vaccine, along with practices like mask wearing and social distancing, are an individual's personal choice."

The state's new Governor, and the two top people at the head of the state's health agency, all promote mis- and disinformation concerning vaccine efficacy, including the discredited autism story.

...the Louisiana Department of Health told NPR it has been "reevaluating both the state's public health priorities as well as our messaging around vaccine promotion...[and] falsely claimed "the flu vaccine does not prevent one from getting the influenza virus."

The policy rises to the level of "absurdity," said Dr. Paul Offit, director of the Vaccine Education Center at the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia. "It's gotten to the point of parody, where a public health agency doesn't promote the public's health."

"It's a dangerous, dangerous thing," Offit said. "It's the most vulnerable among us who suffer this, and it will be our children who suffer this. And my question will be, will they be held accountable?"

"You cannot ask people, 'Hey, we have flu shots. Would you like one?'" at a community event, according to the staff member with knowledge of the meeting. "But if they come up to us, knowing we are the health department and say, 'Hey, we hear y'all might have flu shots,' we can say, 'Yes, would you like one?'"

The medical directors were told that because the health department is a government agency, staff are not allowed to "coerce people" by promoting vaccinations, especially for COVID, flu and mpox. "They have definitely made it clear that we are not supposed to be pushing vaccines at all," the staff member added.

Full story with audio.

[nprshowdown]

State of the World vs. Making

Listen to State of the World here

Brief Description: "Immerse yourself in the most compelling and consequential stories from around the globe. The world is changing in big ways every day. State of the World from NPR takes you where the news is happening — and explains why it matters." (via NPR.org)

Listen to Making here

Brief Description: "WBEZ's critically-acclaimed bio-podcast series explores how an icon is made. Providing an unmatched view from the beginning, all the way to the their rise to the top." (via NPR.org)

[lboogie1906]

Abdul Kareem “Duke” Fakir (December 26, 1935 – July 22, 2024) was a singer. He was a founding member of the Motown quartet the Four Tops (1953-2024).

He was born in Detroit. His father was a factory worker who came from what is now Bangladesh. He attended Pershing High School, where he played basketball, football, and ran track. He first met fellow band member Levi Stubbs through neighborhood football games. Attending a variety show featuring the Lucky Millinder band, the band announced a talented young singer who he recognized as the boy he played football with.

They invited Payton and Benson to join them at a party hosted by the Shahrazads. They decided Stubbs would take the lead and they would back him up. The group began rehearsing together. They gave themselves the name “The Four Aims”. At their first recording session with Chess Records, it was suggested that they change their name to avoid confusion. Their musical director Maurice King suggested the name the Four Tops.

They became one of the biggest recording groups of the 1960s, with 14 charted hits through the early 1980s. They are listed at #77 in Billboard magazine's “Top 100 Artists Of All Time”. He was a guest on the “Not My Job” segment of the NPR radio show Wait Wait…Don’t Tell Me broadcast. He was featured in an Associated Press Q&A article and video in which he discusses his memoir called I’ll Be There: My Life With The Four Tops, and musical based on his life and the story of The Four Tops.

He controlled the Four Tops intellectual properties and was responsible for assembling the touring version of the band that would carry on the group’s legacy. He continued to tour with the group until less than a month before his death.

He was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, was inducted into the Vocal Group Hall of Fame, and the Grammy Hall of Fame, received the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award, and was included in the Billboard magazine Top 100 Recording Artists of All Time.

He lived with his second wife. He had four children, seven grandchildren, and one great-grandchild as of 2016. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence