#unregulated growth

[tenth-sentence]

It begins with a paperclip factory developing an artificial general intelligence (AGI) system that is capable of taking over the entire operation – sourcing raw materials, communications, finance, manufacture – and its prime directive is to increase continually the amount of paperclips the factory produces.

"Right Story, Wrong Story: Adventures in Indigenous Thinking" - Tyson Yunkaporta

[marc--chilton]

(mgv) john house was an alpha, blythe was a beta. house presenting as an omega was another layer of disappointment to john, who didn't bother learning to sympathize with his son. this also led to a small amount of ire from house that he still can't quite shake towards his mother for not understanding how his problems aren't the same as john's. greg knows it's childish and petty, but he's a bitter man, sue him.

[scottguy]

John D. Rockefeller, the world's first billionaire, answered the question, “How much is enough?” with

“Just a little bit more!”

He, unknowingly, made a profound statement about the human greed.

"Capitalism can not reform itself. It is doomed to self-destruction. No universal selfishness can bring social good to all."

- W.E.B DuBois 1961

[chongoblog]

Ay girl they call my dick a metaphor for capitalism cuz of its unregulated growth

[writingescapades]

Life with Rafayel

A/N: I've been thinking a lot about Rafayel. His personality, character, story, and the relationship he has with his previous incarnations and this word vomit came out.

Detached from the world. Spontaneous mini trips. Short drives to isolated spots where you both take long walks, often camping in the car itself in order to catch that sunrise and sunset. Huddling together with warm tea and quiet music playing as you both watch the landscape and have soft conversations. He loves taking photos of nature, but also candid moments were you both can just be silly because no one is watching.

Aimless walks together. Walks with no direction or time limit where you both can catch up and soak in nature. He loves winter walks where he can hear your voice and you enjoy the windy days where you find his hand holding onto yours. You’ll often find little spots that you claim as your secret rendezvous. Places where you can find one another when the world can’t.

A life of wonder and curiosity. The human world demands logic and labour, Rafayel understands that better than anyone. But he doesn’t want that world to find its way into your life and the life you both share. He wants you to retain that wonder for the world. To rekindle that affection it holds as your eyes become mesmerized once more with its beauty. He wants you to remember the joys you took in your interests and hobbies and to make time for them over materialistic consumption and shallow pastimes. Nights of playing games, throwing riddles at one another, painting together, learning a new hobby, reading, or just chatting the night away until you both pass out.

No expectations. Rafayel goes into the relationship with no expectations from you. He doesn’t want to place your relationship into a mold. You both experienced too many life times of that. In this new world, with this new opportunity, Rafayel prefers watching your relationship’s unregulated growth. Life is short and every decision comes with consequences. Knowing that, Rafayel still chooses unconventional paths, even if they don’t make sense to him, he knows he prefers the unknown unconventional to the conventional path his heart is rejecting.

Artistic temperament. Mood swings. Intensity. Passion. Listlessness. Weeks of focus followed by months of being lost in his own world. All humans are artistic, but most avoid displaying their true behaviours. But Rafayel is not ashamed of his personality. If you share his artistic temperament, he encourages you to be yourself around him. If you too get lost in your own world, he wants to dive in with you. He doesn’t ridicule or scoff when doubt enters your mind, or when you find yourself questioning your existence or purpose. Even if you don’t share his temperament, he encourages you to dig dip and discover yourself through art. A life with Rafayel is a life of depth and meaning.

Fun. Life with Rafayel is fun. He’s been alive for so long he’s learned how to keep the magic of life alive. Life never falls into a set pattern or rhythm with him. It will never become humdrum and boring. He is someone you can fully trust, but never fully understand. He’s always slipping in and out of your fingers. When we lose someone, we lose the language we built with them. The language was only understood between the two of you, and, above all, that is what we mourn the loss of most. This holds true to Rafayel. A language built over lifetimes filled with teasing, sass, sarcasm, riddles, stories, and questions, all make Rafayel into a familiar enigma.

Emotionally reliable. Lemurians can see more colours than humans, who is to say they can’t experience or express more emotions? Can’t articulate your emotions well? Grew up being told to shove them down? Accustomed to wearing a mask and putting up a wall? Rafayel knows the feeling all too well. He knows how cruel the world can be, as a god and as a fish out of water. He’s best friends with the agony of failure, the sharp bite of isolation and ache of loneliness. With Rafayel, you don’t need to speak for him to understand. Yes, he will confront you to pull out what you want to desperately hide, but he will never ridicule you or expect your negative emotions to just go away. He encourages you to bring them up to the surface and express them akin to how waves crash onto the shore, recede, then crash again.

Companionship. Holding hands, pecks, entwining arms and legs are salves to Rafayel. The distance a god must carry. The pedestal a famous artist must stand on, and the centuries of being alone have made Rafayel crave companionship. It doesn’t always have to be physical affection, but just having that proximity with someone. To come into a room and hear a voice. To wake up to someone placing a blanket on top of him after another all-nighter. To ask someone about their day and hear concerns on his health. To look behind him and see you sitting nearby doing your own thing. Rafayel knows how to cherish mere existence after going so long without it, but to see someone doing the same for him is new. After all, what god can grant their own wishes? What god is even allowed to wish?

A life with Rafayel is to die knowing you have lived

[sfde8871]

unspecified non-human growth hormone. unregulated. some side effects. worth it.

[humancelltournament]

Propaganda!

Macrophages (abbreviated Mφ, MΦ or MP) are a type of white blood cell of the innate immune system that engulf and digest pathogens, such as cancer cells, microbes, cellular debris, and foreign substances, which do not have proteins that are specific to healthy body cells on their surface. This process is called phagocytosis, which acts to defend the host against infection and injury. Macrophages are found in essentially all tissues, where they patrol for potential pathogens by amoeboid movement. They take various forms (with various names) throughout the body (e.g., histiocytes, Kupffer cells, alveolar macrophages, microglia, and others), but all are part of the mononuclear phagocyte system. Besides phagocytosis, they play a critical role in nonspecific defense (innate immunity) and also help initiate specific defense mechanisms (adaptive immunity) by recruiting other immune cells such as lymphocytes.

A tumor suppressor gene (TSG), or anti-oncogene, is a gene that regulates a cell during cell division and replication. If the cell grows uncontrollably, it will result in cancer. When a tumor suppressor gene is mutated, it results in a loss or reduction in its function. In combination with other genetic mutations, this could allow the cell to grow abnormally. The loss of function for these genes may be even more significant in the development of human cancers, compared to the activation of oncogenes. TSGs can be grouped into the following categories: caretaker genes, gatekeeper genes, and more recently landscaper genes. Caretaker genes ensure stability of the genome via DNA repair and subsequently when mutated allow mutations to accumulate.[3] Meanwhile, gatekeeper genes directly regulate cell growth by either inhibiting cell cycle progression or inducing apoptosis. Lastly, landscaper genes regulate growth by contributing to the surrounding environment, and when mutated, can cause an environment that promotes unregulated proliferation.

[sweetie-bri]

GHO/ST [Giantess Growth Caption]

Hope used to always roll her eyes at the idea that growing could addictive. She was always very quick to debate anyone trying to claim height-challenged people being helped was an objective good thing and there was next to no one who was abusing the system despite the grossly exaggerated claims and statistics about average female height tripling. She scoffed and quibbled until eventually she decided to put her money where her mouth was and apply for government height operation/size treatment, or GHO/ST.

Anyone below 5 foot qualified but, those in more disenfranchised groups like Hope were given priority. She had no issue getting her request approved and card distributed literally within the hour. "Huh, that was... easier than I expected. Is there really no background check? Cool." Hope thought.

Her dosage was in medical jargon she didn't understand, but it was easy to schedule on the app. She accidentally ordered WAY too much, but that didn't stop the system from just accepting her input. "Oops, wait, that's my order confirmation! Really? I clicked an extra 0! Well, that's... convenient." Hope couldn't deny it was surprisingly unregulated. I guess it makes sense since the tech is in its infancy.

Supply after supply was doled out to Hope and eventually after a few weeks of carefully following the instructions to the letter, she gained negligible height. "How on EARTH did people get to be like... 12 feet?! There isn't even enough time. I've gained a CENTIMETER! Are they... overdosing..?" Hope was too scared to check online because she didn't want "How to OD on GHO/ST" in her search history. The thought had crossed her mind before. It does taste... pretty good.

She caved, worst case scenario she loses her card and gets her stomach pumped. Instantly she saw her results exponentially increase. The more you take the more you gain. What took before months was done in weeks. She was already 6 feet tall which was the cutoff point for those apply for GHO/ST but she didn't lose her card and the app didn't deny her. Okay, maybe it was a *little* addictive. But Hope wasn't some mindless junkie. She thought.

She wasn't stopping, she didn't know this, but she couldn't if she wanted to. She was hopelessly addicted to growing. She was excited for every chance to follow her routine self-imposed perscription. Nobody was stopping her, especially not herself. She maybe had an inkling something was wrong at this point but who cares?! It feels *good.* I'm *big.* I'm so *strong.* "Of all people, *I* deserve this. I'm not doing anything illegal." She thought.

Her addiction got more fierce. She got more codependent on GHO/ST, and as long as she kept shilling, the pharmacy kept distributing to her. If it was ever late, her day would be ruined, and if it came early, her day was made. Living and dying by GHO/ST. She spent most of her time fantasizing about growing. "Okay, it might be a *little* addictive, but. I just have an addictive personality. It's not GHO/ST's fault." became "I'm pretty sure I need help, but... I don't *want* help." became "If this is wrong, I don't want to be right!"

Reasons to Tip Sweetie-Bri

1.) She's trying her best.

2.) She'll 100% see that message.

3.) It would make her day.

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

Fate of endangered monkey hinges on Brazilian city’s planning policy

Pied tamarin has narrow range and is found only around borders of Manaus in the Amazon rainforest

The fate of one of the world’s most threatened primates will be on the line in the coming months when Brazilian authorities decide whether to incorporate the pied tamarin into the urban planning policies of Manaus.

Conservationists say the inclusion is crucial not just to protect the critically endangered monkey but as an indicator of the Amazonian city’s willingness to create green spaces that will benefit the lives of its people.

The pied tamarin – which has a small, fluffy white upper body and a black, hairless face – has one of the narrowest ranges of any primate and is found only around the borders of the city.

In recent decades it has been squeezed out of much of its home by the sprawl of Manaus, which is the most densely populated metropolis in the Brazilian rainforest with more 2.2 million residents. Unregulated growth has increased the area of the city by 60% since 1985. To feed its people, nearby farms have more than doubled in size, now covering 56,000km/s. Transport systems are also expanding, and roadkill is a major threat to wildlife in this biodiversity hotspot.

Continue reading.

[her-satanic-wiles]

Kinktober Day 16 - Exhibitionism

Papa Emeritus I x Reader

You are a sex worker at the Ministry, performing sensually behind double-sided glass, indulging in fantasies of being desired by Primo. As Primo watches you with intense longing, he succumbs to his own pleasure, yet his desire for you only deepens, fueling a craving to possess you completely.

Masterlist ⛧ Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Words: 4.4k.

Reading Time: 18 min.

Warnings: exhibitionism, fingering, gang bang fantasies, masturbation, mentions of gang bangs, nipple play, objectification, self-objectification, vaginal fingering, voyeurism

Taglist: @akayuki56 @alien-the-ghost @amazing-bobinsky @angellayercake @anonymous-appreciation @babydestinyinfluencer @bitchywitchygardener @blossomsea @call-me-little-sunshine84 @copiaspet622 @copiasslut @cosmixxdust @da-rulah @dolceterzo @dopey-fandom-girl @faithisyours @ghoulishxdelights @hauntedharmonic-ghoulishhaunter @high-above-the-city @howlingco @inkstainedrat @kaijukimchi @kenken-the-shoggoth @ledger-kaos @magopi @megachaoticstupid @meliza1001 @miss-leto @mommy-dust @neganwifey25-blog @piaart @saintbowie @shycardinale @sister-of-sin-claudia @sisterof-sin @sodoswitchimage @the-did-i-ask @xiyingly @zombiesnips-blog

Author’s note: Hi, everyone!

Today’s fic draws inspiration from the Edo-period (1603–1868) red-light district of Yoshiwara, where peep shows were a popular form of entertainment. Although the exact names of these peep show structures are not well-documented, they provided secluded, intimate viewing spaces. Visitors would discreetly observe courtesans or sexual performances, reflecting the controlled nature of these environments.

These voyeuristic setups were part of the broader ukiyo (“floating world”) culture—a space dedicated to escaping societal norms through pleasure, indulgence, and art. Activities ranged from public erotic performances to private encounters facilitated by intermediaries, such as in tea houses or pleasure chambers. Yoshiwara wasn’t just about sexual activities; it also fostered artistic expressions like ukiyo-e prints and literature, capturing themes of fleeting pleasure and desire.

In modern Japan, venues like Nozoki Beya (peep rooms) mirror some aspects of these historical practices. Nozoki Beya allows customers to watch performers engage in erotic acts, either live or behind glass partitions. These booths offer a voyeuristic experience similar to the setups of Yoshiwara, with a strict separation between viewer and performer.

The popularity of establishments like Nozoki Beya grew in part from legal loopholes created by Japan’s 1956 Anti-Prostitution Law. After World War II, Japan saw a rise in unregulated prostitution and forced sexual slavery. To combat this, the law banned prostitution (defined as vaginal intercourse for money). However, other sexual services—such as non-penetrative acts—remained legal, leading to the growth of businesses like Nozoki Beya.

These venues operate within legal boundaries by prohibiting direct physical contact between customers and performers. They require local government licenses and are subject to zoning laws, which restrict their operation to areas like Kabukicho in Tokyo. Adult entertainment businesses cannot operate near schools, parks, or residential areas, but the ambiguous nature of Japan’s laws creates some gray areas. Venues often navigate the fine line between legality and illegality, especially when performers’ actions approach the limits of prostitution.

While this fic takes inspiration from both Nozoki Beya and the historical practices of Yoshiwara, it is not a direct depiction of these activities. All characters featured are adults above the age of 21, and everything in the story is entirely consensual.

Enjoy the story!

🔞 MDNI 🔞

The red glow of the octagonal room enveloped you, the soft light casting playful shadows that danced across the mirrored glass. You settled onto the padded lounger at the centre, the silk of your robe clinging just enough to tease the senses. This was your space, a sanctuary of seduction where you could lose yourself to the performance, even if the audience remained unseen.

You adjusted your position, allowing the fabric to slip from your shoulder, exposing a hint of skin. You caught your reflection in the glass—a captivating sight that both excited and empowered you. You loved the way it felt to perform, the thrill of revealing just enough while holding back the rest.

But tonight, beneath the intoxicating haze of incense, there was a yearning that stirred deep within you—a desire for a particular gaze. You wished Primo would come to watch. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, the ache of wanting to be seen by him amplifying the heat radiating in the room. You imagined his dark eyes on you, exploring every curve and movement, but the truth was, you had no idea if he would show.

With each languid stretch of your limbs, you painted a picture for the invisible audience. You smoothed your hands over your thighs, the subtle caress igniting a fire in your belly. In the back of your mind, you whispered a silent plea for him to appear, to share in this intimate moment, even if he remained hidden behind the glass.

You leaned back against the cushions, your lips parting ever so slightly as you exhaled, an invitation carried through the air—a sound meant for him, even if he was still just a thought. In this world of shadows and reflections, you held onto hope that he would find his way into your light.

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the rhythm of your breath guide you. The anticipation thrummed in the air, urging you to embrace the performance. With a soft smile playing on your lips, you let the tension ease from your body, focusing on the sensations that rippled through you.

Opening your eyes, you began to move, each motion fluid and deliberate. You arched your back slightly, allowing the fabric of your robe to slip further down your shoulder, revealing more of your collarbone. The mirrors caught every angle, reflecting a beautiful illusion of yourself—a vision you hoped would entice anyone watching.

You leaned forward, your fingers grazing your thighs, slowly tracing circles on your skin as if inviting the audience to feel the heat emanating from your body. The room felt electric, each subtle movement weaving a spell of seduction that filled the air. You thought of Primo, picturing him in your mind as you performed, his presence a silent motivation that pushed you deeper into the moment.

You turned your body slightly, allowing the curves of your hips to catch the light, shifting to give the reflections a tantalising view. You imagined Primo’s gaze, how he would study every detail, and the thought quickened your pulse. Would he appreciate the way you teased the fabric, pulling it closer to your body, then letting it slip away again?

As the performance intensified, you let your hands roam, exploring your own body as though it were a work of art. The sensuality of it filled you with a confidence that radiated through the glass, mingling with the faint scent of incense in the air. You could almost feel the heat of his gaze upon you, igniting a deeper yearning that urged you to give more.

You shifted again, propping yourself up on one elbow, your body poised in a way that accentuated the curve of your waist. You locked your eyes onto your own reflection, the desire within you manifesting in a wicked smile as you teased the edge of your robe, letting it slip just enough to suggest what lay beneath.

With your heart racing, you let the energy of the moment sweep you away. The way the fabric caressed your skin sent shivers down your spine, urging you to explore further. You took a deep breath, focusing on the sensation of your body and the power it held in this intimate space.

You shifted again, letting your legs fall open slightly as you reclined back onto the lounger, propping yourself up on one elbow. The angle provided a tantalising view, showcasing the curve of your hips and the softness of your thighs. You could almost hear the whispers of admiration from an invisible audience, and you imagined Primo’s eyes drinking in every detail, a mixture of longing and desire.

You began to play with your hair, letting the silken strands cascade down your back and across your shoulders. With each movement, you wove your fingers through your locks, drawing attention to the graceful lines of your neck and collarbone. You could picture him captivated, lost in the way you transformed even the simplest actions into something alluring.

Feeling bolder, you lifted your hand to your chest, tracing a path down the fabric of your robe, teasingly pulling it aside just enough to reveal a hint of skin beneath. The warmth of your own touch sent a rush of heat through you, and you relished in the delicious tension that filled the air. You could almost feel the weight of his gaze pressing against you, urging you to go further.

*

Primo stepped into the booth, his heart racing with a mix of anticipation and excitement. The moment he entered the dimly lit space, he was enveloped by the warm glow of the red lights that pulsed softly around the octagonal room. His breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight before him.

There you were, a vision of seduction reclining on the lounger, the silk of your robe glistening under the soft light. The way you moved was hypnotic; your hands glided over your skin with an elegance that left him entranced. Each deliberate stroke drew his gaze, the rhythm of your touch igniting a fire within him.

He watched as you leaned back, arching your back just enough to accentuate the curve of your waist. The robe slipped slightly from your shoulder, revealing the delicate expanse of your collarbone. He felt a surge of desire at the sight, his heart pounding as you showcased your body, unhurried and deliberate.

Primo shifted in his seat, the anticipation thick in the air. He didn’t want to miss a moment; your every movement was a tantalising tease that left him yearning for more. He could hardly believe his luck in being here, hidden behind the glass, able to witness this private performance. The thought of you, completely unaware of his presence, only deepened his desire.

As you ran your hands over your thighs, he could feel his pulse quicken. The way you traced your skin, as if awakening every inch of your body, sent a shiver down his spine. He leaned forward, entranced, hungry for the sight of you unraveling before him. The intimate atmosphere heightened every sensation, each flutter of your fingers igniting something primal within him.

“Sathanas, you’re stunning,” he murmured under his breath, even though he knew you couldn’t hear him. He wanted to reach out, to touch you, to draw you closer, but the barrier of glass kept him safely on this side of desire. It was both exhilarating and torturous, and he found himself lost in the depths of your performance.

You lifted your hand to your chest, teasing the fabric of your robe, revealing just enough to stir his imagination. His breath hitched as you let the robe slip further, showcasing your curves, your skin glowing in the red light. Every moment felt electric, the connection between you palpable despite the separation.

Primo’s breath caught as you pulled your robe down, revealing the soft swell of your breasts. The sight sent a jolt of desire through him, tightening his grip on the edge of the booth as he leaned forward, completely captivated. The delicate curve of your body, coupled with the seductive way you played with your nipples, was intoxicating.

You teased the sensitive peaks, rolling them gently between your fingers as you gazed at your own reflection, lost in the moment. Each flicker of your movements seemed to pulse with life, and he could hardly contain himself, the urge to reach out and touch you almost overwhelming. The glass barrier between you was both a comfort and a torment, separating him from the intoxicating beauty before him.

He adjusted his position, feeling the fabric of his papal robes shift against his skin, the weight of them rubbing against his hardness. The thrill of being here, watching you—bare, uninhibited, and so incredibly alluring—left him with an insatiable hunger that only you could satisfy.

The way you surrendered to your own pleasure stirred something primal within him. He imagined the soft sounds of your breaths, the way your body moved with an almost liquid grace. The tension between you and him felt electric, charged with the unspoken connection that bound you in this moment. He wanted nothing more than to see how far you would take this performance, to witness every nuance of your desire.

“Damn it,” he whispered, unable to tear his gaze away. You were exquisite, a living embodiment of sensuality. The thought of you writhing beneath his touch sent a rush of heat through him, and he clenched his fists, fighting against the urge to reach out and break the barrier that separated you.

You sneaked your hands lower, fingers gliding down the curve of your waist and past your thighs. The air in the booth felt charged, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away as you spread your legs, revealing everything to him. The intimacy of the moment was electrifying, leaving him breathless and entranced.

The soft glow of the room highlighted your most intimate parts, and the sight left him utterly captivated. His heart raced in his chest, the primal urge to reach out and touch you coursing through him with every passing second. You were so beautifully exposed, unashamed in your sensuality, and it took everything in him to remain still behind the glass.

He watched as you let your fingers explore, your touch delicate yet purposeful. The way you arched your back, the soft moans that slipped from your lips, ignited a fire deep within him. His pulse quickened with each small movement, every sigh echoing in his ears like a siren’s call, drawing him deeper into your world.

As you continued to caress yourself, he could see the way your body responded to your touch—the slight quiver of your thighs, the way your breath hitched as you sought pleasure. His fingers itched to feel your skin, to explore the soft curves that were so tantalisingly close yet impossibly out of reach.

Every instinct urged him to close the distance, to step through the barrier and claim this moment for himself. The tantalising notion of being the one to elicit those moans, to draw forth your pleasure, filled his mind. It was maddening, the way you performed with such confidence, utterly unaware of how completely you had ensnared him in your web of desire.

With a quick glance around the booth to ensure his privacy, he reached beneath the soft folds of his papal robes. His fingers brushed against his arousal, a low groan escaping his lips as he began to pleasure himself. The sensation of his hand moving over his skin was electrifying, an echo of the pleasure you were experiencing, and the thought of you heightened every stroke.

His eyes never left you as he matched his rhythm to the movements of your hands, each caress of your body a tantalising tease that drew him deeper into desire. You were a vision of pure ecstasy, and he could hardly contain himself as he watched the way you surrendered to the pleasure, each sigh and moan igniting a fire within him.

As he pumped his hand in time with your movements, he imagined what it would feel like to touch you, to feel the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips. The fantasy of being with you, of tasting the sweetness of your body, pushed him closer to the edge. He bit his lip, stifling the sounds of his pleasure as he focused solely on you.

You were an exquisite performer, every inch of your body a work of art that left him breathless. He could see how you arched your back, the way your eyes fluttered closed in pure bliss. It drove him wild, the thought that you were lost in your own world while he was completely entranced by the scene before him.

“Please,” he murmured, the word slipping past his lips unbidden, a silent prayer to the universe for a chance to be closer to you, to feel your body entwined with his. The moment felt electric, every touch of his hand against himself echoing the rhythm of your exploration.

Primo’s breath came in ragged gasps, the world around him fading away until there was only you, your body, and the sweet tension that hung in the air. He was lost in the spectacle, a willing captive to the allure you created, his pleasure entwining with yours in a beautiful, forbidden dance.

*

As you reclined on the lounger, every movement felt amplified, each stroke of your hands igniting a flame of desire within you. The soft glow of the red lights illuminated your skin, highlighting every curve and contour, and you revelled in the feeling of being on display. There was something intoxicating about knowing that people were watching you, their eyes glued to your every movement behind the glass.

With each slow caress of your body, you felt a surge of confidence. The sensation of your fingers gliding over your skin was heightened by the knowledge that you were captivating someone—drawing them into your world of pleasure. You leaned into it, letting your hands explore, each stroke deliberate and sensual. The heat pooling in your belly grew as you imagined the desire radiating from the booth, the silent, hungry gazes locked onto you, drinking in the sight of your performance.

Being on display like this was thrilling, a rush of power that electrified your senses. You relished the idea that your body was an object of desire, a canvas upon which fantasies were painted. There was a heady mix of vulnerability and empowerment in sharing such an intimate part of yourself, and you leaned into that feeling, letting it wash over you.

The glass separated you from the outside world, creating a cocoon of intimacy that made the experience all the more exhilarating. You caught glimpses of shadows moving behind the transparent barrier, a silent acknowledgment of the connection being forged in that space. Each sigh that escaped your lips felt like a call to them, an invitation to join you in this moment of pure indulgence.

As you spread your legs wider, the thrill of being so exposed sent a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. You played with your nipples, your body responding eagerly to your touch, and you savoured the sensations that coursed through you. The slight pressure, the way your skin tingled, all combined to create a symphony of pleasure that resonated within.

You felt like a goddess, commanding attention and desire, the thrill of the performance fuelling your every move. You enjoyed putting on this show, the way it pushed you to explore the boundaries of your own pleasure. You knew that your every gesture, every gasp, was met with rapt attention and longing, and it filled you with an exhilarating sense of purpose.

As you dipped your fingers inside yourself, a wave of pleasure coursed through you, intensifying the connection between your body and the exhilaration of being on display. You closed your eyes for a moment, surrendering to the sensations, but your thoughts drifted to him���Primo—and the way he would be watching you with such intensity.

But then your mind wandered further, teasing the edges of fantasy. What would it be like to be ravaged by all three papas? The thought sent a shiver of excitement down your spine. You imagined Secondo’s bold, dominating presence, the way he would claim you with a fierce passion, igniting a fire within you. His touch would be rough yet tantalising, pushing you to the edge of pleasure and beyond.

And then there was Terzo, with his playful charm and mischievous grin. You could almost feel his hands on your body, exploring and teasing in ways that made your breath hitch. He’d pull you into a world of sweet torment, drawing out your pleasure until you were begging for release.

But it was Primo who held your attention now, the way his gaze penetrated you even from behind the glass, a silent promise of what could be. You pictured him joining in, commanding the room with his presence, taking control of the scene as he directed the two others to pleasure you together. The thought of being surrounded by them, each one focused solely on your pleasure, sent a wave of desire washing over you.

You thrust your fingers deeper, letting the pleasure build as you imagined the three of them, each taking their turn to ravish you, to claim you in their own unique ways. The heat coiled tightly in your belly, and you could almost hear their voices urging you on, calling you to lose yourself in the moment.

The fantasy felt so real, your body responding to the idea of being the centre of their attention, of being worshipped and desired by all three. You envisioned the scene vividly—bodies entwined, hands exploring, the air thick with the scent of desire and the sounds of pleasure. The thought of being at their mercy, of being claimed by each one in turn, made your heart race.

As you continued to pleasure yourself, you moaned softly, your breath hitching as the fantasy enveloped you. You were lost in the throes of ecstasy, the image of the three papas circling your mind, igniting a fire that left you gasping for more. It was a delicious thought, and you reveled in it, letting it guide you deeper into pleasure, unashamed and utterly consumed by the fantasy.

You thrust your fingers deeper inside yourself, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure radiating throughout your body. With each movement, your mind remained locked on Primo—the way he watched you, those intense eyes filled with desire. The thrill of being on display for him alone heightened every sensation, every gasp that escaped your lips.

You imagined him leaning closer, captivated by the sight of you giving in to your own pleasure. The very thought of him watching you, taking in every intimate moment, stoked the flames of your desire even higher. You could almost feel the heat of his gaze enveloping you, making you feel alive and exposed in the best possible way.

As you continued to tease and caress your body, you relished the idea of him being the sole witness to your pleasure, the one person who understood the intricacies of desire. You could picture him leaning against the glass, his breath hitching as he watched you pleasure yourself, each gasp and moan pulling him deeper into the web of your exhibitionism. You reveled in the idea of being the star of his fantasy, a beautiful spectacle designed solely for his enjoyment.

The way he must have reacted—his breath quickening, desire coursing through him like wildfire—made you want to push even further. You arched your back and spread your legs wider, giving him an even better view, and you felt a thrill race through you. You were not just performing; you were offering yourself to him, inviting him into this moment, even if only in his imagination.

With each thrust of your fingers, you thought of how he would react, the pleasure reflected in his eyes as he watched you give in to the waves of ecstasy. The connection between you two felt palpable, as if the glass that separated you was nothing but an illusion. You imagined him whispering sweet nothings, encouragement urging you to let go, to revel in your own pleasure and the thrill of being seen.

You could feel your climax building, a wave of heat pooling low in your belly, and you surrendered to the fantasy of him—his presence dominating your thoughts. The intimacy of the moment was intoxicating, and you savored the connection that seemed to transcend the barrier between performer and observer.

As you neared your release, the thought of his eyes on you, filled with longing and desire, pushed you over the edge. With a final thrust of your fingers, you cried out, the sound echoing in the intimate space as pleasure coursed through you. In that moment, it felt as if it were only the two of you in the world, lost in the shared experience of desire, connection, and the exquisite thrill of being on display for him alone.

*

Primo leaned back in his booth, the glass between him and you amplifying the thrill of the moment. Watching you was intoxicating, a sensory overload that consumed him entirely. The way your fingers glided over your skin, the gentle arch of your back, and the soft sighs escaping your lips stirred something primal within him. He couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement as he realised how much he craved this—craved you.

His heart raced as he observed every intimate detail of your performance. The way you surrendered to your own pleasure, completely unguarded and exposed, ignited a fire deep inside him. He imagined what it would be like to join you, to feel your body beneath his hands, to taste the sweetness of your skin. The fantasy enveloped him, pulling him deeper into the realm of desire.

He watched as you dipped your fingers inside yourself, the sight sending a rush of heat through his veins. It was a sight he could have only dreamed of, and the knowledge that you were performing just for him heightened every sensation. Each thrust of your fingers seemed to draw him in closer, making him feel as if he were part of the scene, even from behind the glass. He could hardly breathe, caught between the beauty of the moment and the longing that surged through him.

Primo’s hand moved instinctively, mirroring your movements as he began to pleasure himself. He matched the rhythm of your fingers, the connection between you two electric. Every moan that escaped your lips was like a sweet invitation, urging him to give in to the raw, primal urge coursing through him. He imagined the warmth of your body, the taste of your skin, the sound of your breath—everything combined to create a world where only the two of you existed.

He could feel the tension building within him, an overwhelming urge to break through the barrier and claim you. The thought of being the one to worship your body, to push you to new heights of pleasure, sent shivers of delight down his spine. You were a vision of pure ecstasy, and the sheer thought of you belonging to him, even for just a moment, was enough to drive him wild.

As you reached the peak of your pleasure, the sound of your cries echoed in the small space, wrapping around him like a lover’s embrace. Primo’s own release was imminent, and he let himself be lost in the moment, caught in the exquisite blend of desire and satisfaction. The image of you, utterly consumed by your own ecstasy, pushed him over the edge. He closed his eyes, surrendering to the wave of pleasure that washed over him, feeling every pulse and throb as he gave in completely.

As the wave of pleasure crashed over him, Primo surrendered completely to the moment, his body tensing with the intensity of his orgasm. He watched as his release spilled forth, hitting the floor in rhythmic splatters that echoed softly in the intimate space. The sight was primal, raw, and it only heightened the exhilaration coursing through him. Each pulse sent shivers down his spine, a testament to the fierce desire that had been building within him since he first laid eyes on you.

But even as he rode the waves of his climax, his thoughts remained fixed on you. The scene was etched into his mind, the image of your body writhing in pleasure, fingers buried deep within yourself, and that glorious expression of ecstasy on your face. It was intoxicating, and as his heart raced and his breathing began to steady, he felt an even fiercer craving ignite within him.

Despite the release, his desire for you burned hotter than ever. He longed to touch you, to feel your skin against his, to taste every inch of you that had been laid bare before him. The throes of his orgasm only served to amplify the need that coursed through him—a desperate ache to possess you completely.

Primo could still see you, the way you were lost in your pleasure, utterly uninhibited and inviting. The thought of all the ways he could worship your body, of how he could take you higher, sent a fresh rush of need through him. He wanted to be the one to make you moan, to feel you quiver beneath him, to guide you to the brink of ecstasy time and again.

He leaned closer to the glass, a silent vow forming in his mind. This was only the beginning. The tantalising connection he felt—though brief—had awakened something within him that couldn’t be easily quelled. Each pattern his release left on the floor was a reminder of the intensity of the moment, and it made him crave you even more.

Even as he began to come down from the high of his orgasm, he knew one thing for certain: he wanted you. The fierce desire that coursed through his veins felt almost unbearable, a need that demanded to be fulfilled. The thought of you lingering in his mind, a haunting echo of what he had just witnessed, was enough to stoke the flames of his passion anew.

He wanted to know the taste of your skin, the feel of your body beneath his, and he could only hope that this performance was just a prelude to something far more intimate. For now, he was content to watch, but deep down, he knew that he would do anything to make you his—now and forever.

Prev./Next

[coochiequeens]

Even advocates of surrogacy should agree that regulations are needed

BY Samuel Burke August 16, 2024

In Europe, commercial surrogacy is largely banned and seen as a form of body commodification, similar to organ trafficking. Only a few countries permit highly regulated altruistic surrogacy, which limits reimbursement to just expenses and no additional compensation—resulting in limited participation. Demand for surrogacy, however, is soaring due to delayed childbearing, increasing medical challenges, and the growth of LGBTQ+ family-building. The surrogacy market, valued at $14 billion in 2022, is projected to skyrocket to $129 billion by 2032, according to Global Market Insights.

Currently, only a few European countries, such as Ukraine and Greece, permit commercial surrogacy. These nations operate in a legal gray area with minimal oversight, leading to a largely unregulated industry fraught with issues like trafficking women, falsified documents and sham embryo transfers.

Before the 2022 invasion, Ukraine was a global surrogacy hub estimated to have 2,000-2,500 surrogacy contracts annually. Despite the ongoing conflict, the industry continues, with some women still carrying pregnancies in war-torn Ukraine. Controversially, Ukrainian surrogates now leave their families behind and travel to places like Greece and Northern Cyprus (recognized only by Turkey) to complete pregnancies. The women often live with multiple surrogates in the same dwellings while they wait to give birth.

Advocates for reform argue that current practices neglect the welfare of surrogates. Wes Johnson-Ellis, co-founder of the U.K. non-profit My Surrogacy Journey (MSJ), asserts that surrogates should not have to leave their families to move to another country for the pregnancy to help others build theirs.

Pregnancy and birth are vulnerable times for surrogates. They need their support network and family close by to ensure they are fully supported,” Johnson-Ellis says.

MSJ frequently assists families who’ve faced trying circumstances with other agencies. One couple pursuing surrogacy in Cyprus believed their surrogate was Cypriot. However, she was actually from Eastern Europe and returned to her native country, where she gave birth prematurely according to Johnson-Ellis. Tragically, the baby did not survive.

“They are still fighting to have the baby’s body exhumed and sent back to their home country for a proper burial,” says Johnson-Ellis.

Last August, Greek authorities raided the Mediterranean Fertility Institute in Crete and arrested staff amid allegations of trafficking nearly 100 women from Eastern Europe to act as surrogates. Officials also accused the company of falsifying adoption papers for clients from countries where surrogacy is illegal. The institute is now closed and has not responded to inquiries about these allegations. Advocates for affected families, many from Australia, claim they paid for a surrogacy program that was never fulfilled.

The Republic of Georgia had also emerged as a popular surrogacy destination in Europe, but last year, the Georgian prime minister announced that commercial surrogacy would be restricted to Georgian citizens only. This has left the legality of programs in Georgia in limbo, affecting intended parents from around the world who had turned to the country for surrogacy.

Scandals and swiftly shifting surrogacy laws have sent intended parents in Europe scrambling to relocate their embryos to countries with more stable or established surrogacy frameworks, primarily in the Americas. 

The United States is the top destination for commercial surrogacy due to its well-established legal framework and advanced medical care. However, it is also the most expensive, with total costs for IVF and surrogacy—including medical, legal, and agency fees—averaging $190,000 to $230,000.

Those high costs have traditionally made Canada a more affordable surrogacy option, with costs for IVF and surrogacy averaging $60,000 to $100,000. Although commercial surrogacy is banned, Canadian law permits altruistic surrogacy, similar to the U.K., Denmark, and the Netherlands. This lower cost has dramatically increased demand, leading to average wait times of 10 to 18 months and driving hopeful parents to seek commercial surrogates in Latin America.

Argentina, Colombia, and Mexico are attracting intended parents as alternatives to Europe, with costs typically under $80,000. Mexico City, in particular, has become a popular choice due to its low costs and progressive surrogacy laws.

“Confidence in Mexico is shifting,” says Johnson-Ellis of My Surrogacy Journey, which has launched a service guiding families there. “Mexico actually has more guardrails and regulations in place than the U.S. and has even had the support of the Mexican Supreme Court since 2021.” He points to Mexico City’s practice of issuing pre-birth orders that recognize the intended parents as the legal parents and even list the surrogate as the gestational carrier, not the biological mother when she’s used donor eggs. 

The surrogacy boom in the Americas is coming at Europe’s expense. Advocates argue that Europe’s ban on commercial surrogacy limits access to services and, ironically, increases the exploitation and coercion of women.

“With a commercial model, everyone knows where they stand,” Johnson-Ellis says. “There’s no gray. It’s very black and white. And I think with surrogacy, you need black and white.”

[jaxs-beanie]

Something fascinating I recently learned about Hadestown is that its story has roots in real life with the industrialization of Eleusis, the site of Demeter and Persephone's Mysteries in Ancient Greece, and how it turned the holy site into a railway and steel capital--much like what Hades does with Hadestown.

This article talks about what happened and efforts to rebuild: https://www.cnn.com/travel/article/greece-eleusis-city-of-culture/index.html

"A blessing and a curse, industry kept thousands out of poverty but it also caused major environmental degradation, especially in the 1960s and 1970s when exponential growth was unregulated.

Smog obscured the beautiful views. The bay transformed into a ship graveyard. Eleusis became a modern version of the underworld, the “sacred way” having morphed into a road to hell."

Another article talks about responses to the city's welfare in writing, like poetry and art: https://www.lrb.co.uk/blog/2023/march/eleusinian-mysteries

The good news is that efforts to rebuild and help the city have been ongoing since the early 2000s. There's a lot of work to do but I hope it all works out!

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Horsey

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

December 4, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Dec 05, 2024

In 1883, as the Republican Party moved into full-throated support for the industrialists who were concentrating the nation’s wealth into their own hands while factory workers stayed above the poverty line only by working 12 hours a day, seven days a week, Yale sociologist William Graham Sumner responded to those worried about the extremes of wealth and poverty in the country with his book What Social Classes Owe to Each Other.

Sumner concluded it was unfair that “worthy, industrious, independent, and self-supporting” men should be taxed to support those he claimed were lazy. Worse, he said, such a redistribution of wealth would destroy America by destroying individual enterprise. Sumner called for a “laissez-faire” world in which those who failed should be permitted to sink into poverty, and even to die, to keep America from becoming a land where lazy folks waited for a handout. Such people should be weeded out of society for the good of the nation.

Republicans echoed Sumner’s What Social Classes Owe to Each Other, concluding, as he did, that the wealthy owed the lower classes nothing. Even though “his views are singularly hard and uncompromising,” wrote the New York Times, “it is difficult to quarrel with their deductions, however one may feel one’s finer instincts hurt by their apparent cruelty.”

In contrast to those who believed government should stay out of economic affairs so individuals can amass as much wealth as they can, others looked at the growing extremes of wealth, with so-called robber barons like Cornelius Vanderbilt II building a 70-room summer “cottage” while children went to work in mines and factories, and concluded that the government must try to hold the economic playing field level to give everyone equal chance to rise to prosperity.

Prevailing opinion in the U.S. has seesawed between these two ideologies ever since.

In the Progressive Era, members of both major parties and other upstart parties turned against Sumner’s argument, working to clean up cities, establish better working conditions, provide education, and regulate food and drugs to protect consumers. After World War I, Republicans led a backlash against those regulations and the taxes necessary to pay for their enforcement. In October 1929 the unregulated stock market crashed, ushering in the Great Depression.

From 1933 to 1981, Americans of both parties came to agree that the government must regulate the economy and provide a basic social safety net, promote infrastructure, and protect civil rights. They believed such intervention would stabilize society and prevent future economic disasters by protecting the rights of all individuals to have equal access to economic prosperity.

Then in 1981, the country began to back away from that idea. Incoming president Ronald Reagan echoed William Graham Sumner when he insisted that this system took tax dollars from hardworking white men and redistributed them to the undeserving. In a time of sluggish economic growth, he assured Americans that “government is not the solution to our problem; government is the problem,” and that tax cuts and deregulation were the way to make the economy boom.

For the next forty years, lawmakers pushed deregulation and tax cuts, privatization of infrastructure, and cuts to the bureaucracy that protected civil rights. Those forty years, from 1981 to 2021, hollowed out the middle class as about $50 trillion moved from the bottom 90% of Americans to the top 1%.

When he took office in January 2021, President Joe Biden set out to reverse that trend and once again use the government to level the economic playing field, returning the nation to the proven system of the years before 1981, under which the middle class had thrived. His director of the Federal Trade Commission, Lina Khan, began to break up the monopolies that had come to control the economy, while new rules at the Department of Labor expanded workers’ rights to overtime pay, and the government worked to expand access to healthcare.

Under Biden and the Democrats, Congress passed a series of laws to bring manufacturing jobs back to the United States. Those laws used federal money to start industries that then attracted private capital—more than $1 trillion of it. According to policy researcher Jack Conness, the CHIPS and Science Act and the Inflation Reduction Act are already responsible for more than 135,000 of the 1.6 million construction and manufacturing jobs created during the Biden administration.

As Jennifer Rubin noted in the Washington Post today, “It is stunning, frankly, that the most successful and far-flung private-public collaboration in history—one that is transforming cities, states and regions—has gotten so little coverage from legacy media. It may be the most critical government-driven initiative since the GI Bill following World War II.”

“[T]he widespread benefits derived from this massive undertaking—for individuals, communities, national security and government itself (through increased tax revenue)—demonstrate how far superior this approach is to trickle-down economics, which slashes taxes for the rich and big corporations,” Rubin continued. “With the latter, the tax savings for corporations go to everything from stock buybacks to increased compensation for CEOs to foreign investment,” while “the cost of the tax cuts runs up the national debt at a much greater rate than a public-private approach…. Republicans deliver temporary stimulus and wind up with more debt and more income inequality.”

But in 2024, voters elected Donald Trump, who promised to reject Biden’s economic vision and resurrect the system of the years before 2021 in which a few individuals could amass as much wealth as possible. Just ten days after the election, a Texas judge overturned the Biden administration’s overtime pay rule, permitting employers to cancel the raises they gave their employees to comply with that rule.

The change in ideology is clear from Trump’s cabinet picks. While the total net worth of the officials in Biden’s Cabinet was about $118 million, Laura Mannweiler of U.S. News and World Report noted, a week ago she estimated the worth of Trump’s roster of appointees to be at least $344.4 billion, more than the gross domestic product of 169 countries. That number did not include his pick for treasury secretary, Scott Bessent, whose net worth is hard to find.

Today, Trump added another billionaire to his roster, picking entrepreneur and private astronaut Jared Isaacman as the next administrator of the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA). Isaacman is a close ally of billionaire Elon Musk, who aspires to colonize Mars. In a post on X after the announcement, Isaacman vowed to “usher in an era where humanity becomes a true spacefaring civilization.”

To free up capital for such ventures, Trump’s team has promised more business deregulation and tax cuts for the wealthy and corporations. Today, Trump tapped Paul Atkins, who has called for looser regulation of cryptocurrency, to chair the Securities and Exchange Commission. Atkins is expected to roll back the financial regulations initiated by his predecessor.

Trump has also vowed to cut the post–World War II government far more than anyone before him has done. He has put Musk and billionaire Vivek Ramaswamy in charge of a “Department of Government Efficiency” (DOGE); Musk proposes to cut $2 trillion out of the $6.75 trillion U.S. budget. How he would accomplish this is hard to imagine, since most of the budget is “mandatory” spending already baked into the budget, and much of that is Medicare, Medicaid, and Social Security. During the campaign, Trump promised he would not cut these very popular programs.

One of the things that constitute “discretionary” spending—which must be renewed every year—is veterans’ benefits, and yesterday Jeff Schogol of Task and Purpose noted “a growing chorus” calling for cuts to Veterans Affairs disability benefits after The Economist on November 28 called disability benefits “absurdly generous.” Disabled American Veterans spokesperson Dan Clare pointed out that the U.S. was at war for twenty years—in Afghanistan for twenty and in Iraq for eight—increasing the VA budget. Since Congress passed the PACT Act, formally known as the Sergeant First Class Heath Robinson Honoring our Promise to Address Comprehensive Toxics Act, in 2022, more than 1.2 million veterans exposed to burn pits and other toxics have been treated for resulting health conditions.

Today, Phil Galewitz of KFF Health News noted that nine states—Arizona, Arkansas, Illinois, Indiana, Montana, New Hampshire, North Carolina, Utah, and Virginia—have trigger laws to end their expansion of Medicaid if federal funding is reduced. As many as 3.7 million people in these states would lose healthcare coverage if these laws go into effect. Other states might then follow suit as lost federal money would have to be made up by the states.

On X this week, Musk commented that a thread by Senator Mike Lee (R-UT) attacking Social Security was “interesting.” Yesterday on the Fox News Channel, Representative Richard McCormick (R-GA) suggested: "We're gonna have to have some hard decisions. We're gonna have to bring in the Democrats to talk about Social Security, Medicaid, Medicare. There's hundreds of billions of dollars to be saved, and we know how to do it; we just have to have the stomach to take those challenges on."

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[scarlet--wiccan]

good afternoon in a avengers issue quicksilver was like Wanda is the only one who love me am I the only one who was bothered by that I mean what about Luna maximoff she adores him like my dude I love his character but he can be a bit of a you know what let’s keep this kid friendly he is a bit of a fart nugget I don’t like how marvel keep skipping over her anyway that is my opinion what do you think on it

Good afternoon! This is my inbox, not a private chat. If you have a question or are seeking any kind of information/critical analysis from me, I would really appreciate you making an effort to write legibly. I'm not saying this to be judgmental-- it's not a matter of language, it's just a matter of respect. Most people can do better than firing off a run-on stream of thought with no punctuation.

And if you want to ask me about a specific issue or incident, please cite the series title and issue number. There's no guarantee that I can know what comic you're talking about otherwise.The Avengers has been around for over 60 years-- "a avengers issue" tells me nothing.

I assume that you are asking about The Avengers (2023) #14, which is part of the Blood Hunt event. In it, Pietro has joined an ad hoc group of Avengers to take down the vampires attacking New York City, but his main goal is to rescue Wanda, who has been taken captive by the vampire leaders. Each of the heroes in this issue are introduced with a brief inner monologue, and Pietro's describes how he's driven away most of the people in his life except for his sister, who, in Pietro's words, is the one person left who loves him.

The purpose of this scene is to introduce Pietro as a new character to the book, as it's his first appearance in this volume, and establish his primary motive-- rescuing Wanda-- along with relevant information about his background and personality. All of these elements come into play, and are given greater nuance, as the story progresses, but this is just the introduction. These are extremely common writing conventions.

Pietro's impatience, prickly attitude, and personal priorities create tension with his teammates, but those tensions are resolved when Pietro demonstrates that he can be patient and cooperative when he needs to be. He is not being a "fart nugget," as you so evocatively described him-- he's actually showing a lot of growth, while still maintaining core personalities traits that have been part of his character for 60 years.

As for Luna-- she's not being overlooked here, as she and Crystal are mentioned at the top of Pietro's monologue, where he indicates that he has driven them away. Again, this is a simplification, but it's not untrue-- Pietro and Crystal have been estranged for a long time, and while Luna does love her father, but I wouldn't say she adores him. You might have missed it, but there was a whole decade or so where their relationship was really rocky after Pietro stole Terrigen crystals and coerced Luna into undergoing unregulated Terrigenesis. He initially lied and blamed these actions on a Skrull shapeshifter, but because of her powers, Luna knew the truth. Pietro eventually came clean, and Luna did forgive him, but she has a much more cynical view of him now. Pietro doesn't have custody of Luna, and her appearance in Scarlet Witch was the first indication in years that that even see each other any more-- in 2018's Quicksilver: No Surrender, Pietro saves Luna from an energy monster while lamenting that they're basically strangers.

Luna was an important presence in the late-90s Quicksilver series, had big plotlines with Pietro in the wake of HoM, was a very present and active character in All-New X-Factor, and has had cameos in every Quicksilver or Scarlet Witch-titled series in the last six years. As far as children of divorce go in superhero comics, that's actually pretty good. If it feels like she's not getting enough page time, maybe it's because Pietro himself doesn't get as much page time as he should, on top of the fact that the Inhumans have been basically shelved since 2018.

[xanderisrotting]

Behind the label: Reef-Safe Sunscreen

I’m starting a series on my blog where i debunk common labels that brands use to seem more eco-friendly and mislead the consumer. Today’s and the first issue is “Reef safe” sunscreen.

Regardless of your skin color, everyone should wear sunscreen in the sunnier months! Sadly, a lot of sunscreen contains harsh chemicals that can harm aquatic species. 25% of applied sunscreen end up in our waterways. Sunscreen companies are aware of this, and keen to more and more people’s propensity to shop green. Instead of changing their product, they just lie.

The term “reef safe” is not regulated, and this means any company is allowed to slap the label onto any product with no prerequisites. Some “reef safe” sunscreens still contain oxybenzone and octinoxate, the two chemicals that contribute to coral bleaching.

Even if a sunscreen is “reef free”, the coral reefs are only half of the species effected by sunscreens. Fish, aquatic mammals and algae are also affected by sunscreens. Harsh sunscreen chemicals can impair the growth of algae, and that greatly harms the entire food web.

Don’t ditch the sunscreen! Read the labels! Make sure even “reef safe” sunscreens do not contain harmful chemicals (listed in image above). Make sure the only active ingredients in your sunscreen are titanium dioxide (unless it’s spray), or zinc oxide. Even sunscreens without octinoxates and oxybenzones can still contain other harmful chemicals, like my sunscreen.

Moral of the story: “Reef safe” sunscreens are not actually as reef safe as they may say. It’s an unregulated label that can be put on any sunscreen, even if they can harm the ocean. Always read your labels, and make sure there are no ocean harming chemicals. the ocean isn’t just their home, it’s ours too.

[howieabel]

“Something is profoundly wrong with the way we live today. For thirty years we have made a virtue out of the pursuit of material self-interest: indeed, this very pursuit now constitutes whatever remains of our sense of collective purpose. We know what things cost but have no idea what they are worth. We no longer ask of a judicial ruling or a legislative act: Is it good? Is it fair? Is it just? Is it right? Will it help bring about a better society or a better world? Those used to be the political questions, even if they invited no easy answers. We must learn once again to pose them. The materialistic and selfish quality of contemporary life is not inherent in the human condition. Much of what appears "natural" today dates from the 1980s: the obsession with wealth creation, the cult of privatization and the private sector, the growing disparities of rich and poor. And above all, the rhetoric that accompanies these: uncritical admiration for unfettered markets, disdain for the public sector, the delusion of endless growth. We cannot go on living like this. The little crash of 2008 was a reminder that unregulated capitalism is its own worst enemy: sooner or later it must fall prey to its own excesses and turn again to the state for rescue. But if we do no more than pick up the pieces and carry on as before, we can look forward to greater upheavals in years to come.” ― Tony Judt, Ill Fares the Land