#Human Relations Day

[firstumcschenectady]

“The Beloved Way” based on Acts 2:43-47

This week I had a routine dental appointment. Our dentist, selected carefully by the measure of being covered by our dental insurance, having opening for new patients, and being a woman of color (my first choice when available) turns to have incredible an generic suburban office.

So I'm lying there, having my teeth cleaned, and staring at the florescent lights and ceiling tiles and suddenly I start thinking about the impact of this office on the world. The ways that routine preventative dental care subtly but profoundly impacts peoples' lives. The wonder that is dental care when a tooth is aching, and someone can help. The life-changing reality of dentures. It becomes sort of amazing, thinking about this one small office in the midst of a maze of medical offices, and the difference it makes it people's lives.

It was actually awe-inspiring, maybe because I never before thought about the utter wonder that is a modern, first world dental office and its impact. Wow. The only times I've come close to thinking about this is when I hear from or consider the work of our missionary, Dr. Belinda Forbes whose life work has been in offering dental care in Nicaragua where there are so few dentists that there is only one dentist for every 20,000 people. Listening to Belinda talk about training health volunteers to teach tooth-brushing, and to engage in tooth extraction always reminds me how imperative dental work is, but somehow this all still felt like a revelation to me.

(Dr. Forbes)

Dental work is an imperative part of the kin-mod of God. We can't be holistically well if our teeth ache or if we can't eat good food.

The wonder of all this for me was that this dental office is just there, quietly doing its work of caring for its patients, just like many others in our region, providing imperative care to people, and being a part of building the kingdom of God whether they know it or not. Now, I'm not saying dental care is perfect. Right? Some offices overcharge, some offer subpar care, systemic racism is at play there like everywhere else, and worst of all there are far too many people in our country who can't afford to access dental care. It isn't perfect.

But it is good. And it is a very good starting point for the kind of dental care the kingdom needs. Which is really, really nice because there is no need to start from scratch on that one, just expend access and increase justice.

And, the truth is that there are lot of pieces of our society that are like this – already people all over the place are doing foundationally good work, that matters to other people, and holistic well-being, and the kingdom of God, and …. wow!

When I read from Rev. Dr. King, I'm always struck by the depth of his faith. He had a clear-eyed view of the impacts of racism, poverty, cycles of violence, and the military industrial complex. His analysis of them and the ways they interplay is outstanding. Yet, it was his faith that he brought to his work, and his faith that led his work. He worked from a position of hope. He believed that the people working together could bring change, that love could overpower hate, that the evils of the world wouldn't have the final say. His belief in God extended to belief in people, and our capacity to overcome the brokenness and actually build the beloved community. And he thought we got there by shared nonviolent direct action – which sounds like Jesus to me. It should, right, he was a Christian clergy person with a doctorate from a United Methodist Seminary (just saying). But I've noticed not all Christian clergy people pay a lot of attention to the power of nonviolence in the life of Jesus and his followers.

The Beloved Community was for him a realistic, achievable goal that could be attained by a critical mass of people committed to and trained in the philosophy and methods of nonviolence.

Dr. King’s Beloved Community is a global vision, in which all people can share in the wealth of the earth. In the Beloved Community, poverty, hunger and homelessness will not be tolerated because international standards of human decency will not allow it. Racism and all forms of discrimination, bigotry and prejudice will be replaced by an all-inclusive spirit of sisterhood and brotherhood. In the Beloved Community, international disputes will be resolved by peaceful conflict-resolution and reconciliation of adversaries, instead of military power. Love and trust will triumph over fear and hatred. Peace with justice will prevail over war and military conflict.

Dr. King’s Beloved Community was not devoid of interpersonal, group or international conflict. Instead he recognized that conflict was an inevitable part of human experience. But he believed that conflicts could be resolved peacefully and adversaries could be reconciled through a mutual, determined commitment to nonviolence. No conflict, he believed, need erupt in violence. And all conflicts in The Beloved Community should end with reconciliation of adversaries cooperating together in a spirit of friendship and goodwill.1

I often speak of this as the kingdom of God, but I think it is good to remember there are other ways of talking about it, in including “the beloved community” like Rev. Dr. King said or “the way” the early Christians spoke of.

Rev. Dr. King's philosophy of nonviolence has been broken down to 6 principles, I've shared some of them with you in the past. Today I want to share the 6th:

PRINCIPLE SIX: Nonviolence Believes That the Universe Is on the Side of Justice.

The nonviolent resister has deep faith that justice will eventually win.

Nonviolence believes that God is a God of justice. 2

That's what I mean by being struck by the depth of his faith. He saw the problems, but he believed that God will win.

When I read Acts 2, I'm overwhelmed. The space between the radical nature of the early church in selling all they had and living in complete inter-dependence and the way faith is practiced today seems impossibly far. But it turns out that there are so many things actually going right, things that we may not see or might take for granted, things that need a little bit of adjusting to be better, but are already working for good. There are lots of them, if we look. This week I saw one, I hope this coming week you see two. There is reason for hope, for faith, and there is a lot of need for nonviolent love in this world. Thanks be to God who is our source of hope, faith, and love. Amen

1https://thekingcenter.org/about-tkc/the-king-philosophy/ - “The Beloved Community” accessed January 11, 2024.

2Ibid., Dr. King’s Fundamental Philosophy of Nonviolence.

January 14, 2024

Rev. Sara E. Baron 

First United Methodist Church of Schenectady

 603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305 

Pronouns: she/her/hers

 http://fumcschenectady.org/ https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

[markscherz]

‘But I am very poorly today & very stupid & hate everyone & everything’

- Charles Darwin. Letter to Charles Lyell, 1 October 1861

[chronurgy]

Reading forgotten realms lore is just like [standard fantasy worldbuilding] [standard fantasy worldbuilding] [standard fantasy worldbuilding] [something really unique and interesting] [standard fantasy worldbuilding] [standard fantasy worldbuilding] [EXTREMELY WEIRD SEX THING] [standard fantasy worldbuilding] [standard fantasy worldbuilding]

Except for when it's like [standard fantasy worldbuilding] [EXTREMELY WEIRD SEX THING] [EXTREMELY WEIRD SEX THING] [EXTREMELY WEIRD SEX THING] [EXTREMELY WEIRD SEX THING] [EXTREMELY WEIRD SEX THING] [standard fantasy worldbuilding] [EXTREMELY WEIRD SEX THING]

[dailyloopdeloop]

DAY 97: CONGRATULATIONS, YOU WON!

[fantasykiri5]

A pair of birds of prey for days 15 and 16 of @hermitadaymay !!! Definitely not a day and a half (?) late

[chidoroki]

"Unstoppable" by Donna Ashworth

[samishin]

😩

[marlynnofmany]

Squishy Cybernetics

“Hello!” I said. “Where would you like this?” I waved an arm at the large pallet of boxes, bags, and miscellaneous other packaging. It was on one of our biggest hoversleds, and accompanied by some of the biggest crewmates.

The Waterwill at the loading gate burbled thoughtfully, sounding like a water jug given sentience. She extended what passed for an arm of her own and pointed indoors. “You’d better bring it all the way in. Over here.” She glided inward, moving in that mysterious way I’d never figured out. Someone shaped like a column of jello had no business scooting forward that quickly, no matter how much their lower end rippled against the floor.

But I didn’t have time for galaxy-gazing; I had to help steer the hoversled. Regulations said we needed someone on all four sides for a load this big, just in case of antigrav mishaps. Didn’t want it slamming into something breakable at this client’s facility — or slamming into anything at all, really, but this place was some sort of high-tech manufacturing plant, and I didn’t want to think about what kind of damage a crash could do.

No mishaps today, though. The Frillian twins paced along on either side, all muscles and tight clothes (they’d left the flowy silks behind today; a solid choice). I couldn’t see Zhee in the back, but I heard the quiet click of his bug feet. My own feet were silent in proper Earth shoes as I tugged the steering handle and followed the Waterwill.

I thought we’d just take the thing to the far side of the big loading dock, unload it in an out-of-the-way spot to be unpacked later. But the Waterwill kept going. We passed hovercars and wheeled carts, storage cabinets and bins, along with a baffling arrangement of pipes along one wall. Windows showed glimpses of the busy manufacturing facility. I had no idea what they were making. Maybe I’d get a better look on the way back out.

Oh hey, a human, I thought in surprise as I passed a bigger window. With a Strongarm on his back? What in the world are they making together? I was already moving past, and could only speculate about intricate manufacturing projects that needed hands and tentacles at the same time.

I was still wondering why the Strongarm hadn’t just pulled up a chair next to the human when the Waterwill signalled me to stop. “Stopping,” I announced for Zhee’s benefit. We all came to a halt, and nobody crashed into anything. Hallelujah.

“Here, please,” the Waterwill said. She stretched her arm out into a long tendril to pick up a scrap of something blue that had fallen on the floor, and pointed at an empty space near several foam-topped tables. “I’m needed out front. Heeme, can you oversee?”

“Sure thing,” said a voice from nowhere, then a Strongarm climbed out from under one of the tables. “Found the last of the broken bits, by the way.” Two of his tentacles were curled around pieces of the same blue stuff the Waterwill had picked up. The blue stood out against the dark red of his skin, but not as much as the four mismatched tentacles on other side did. They were a transparent blue-green much like the Waterwill’s own tendrils. I tried not to stare, and failed.

“Thank you,” the Waterwill said. “I’ll be back in a bit.” She set her broken piece of whatever on the nearest table, then scooted through a door that was apparently soundproofed, because a cacophony of whirs and whooshes filled the air until it closed.

“Right,” I said. “Over here, then.” I steered the hoversled into position, then we all worked together to guide the detachable gravity platform onto the ground. That part always made me nervous, since it looked like the giant pallet that could crush me was floating through the air with just a touch of technological magic to make it go. I understand other models of industrial-sized hoversleds have more mechanical-looking gravity platforms, or regular forklift arms. Ours was the glowy magic kind, and it deposited the giant stack of objects with all the precision of the best fairytale enchantment.

“Perfect,” said the Strongarm. “We’ll unpack it from here. Thanks.”

“Our pleasure,” I said.

Zhee, finally able to see over the hoversled, got a good look at who I was talking to. “Oh, I’m sure you’re fast at unpacking,” he said, pointing with his pincher arm. “Does that model form into blades?”

“Sure does!” the Strongarm said, holding up a see-through tentacle that instantly flattened into a shape like a steak knife. “Good for packaging, stubborn latches, and all manner of other things.”

“And stabbing!” Blop put in, to be immediately shushed by his sister.

“No stabbing on the job,” she told him.

The Strongarm laughed. “Yeah, just respectable tool use. They don’t give these out to anyone who’s going to do violence with them.”

I asked, “Is that Waterwill tech? I haven’t seen one before.”

“Yup.” He turned the knife back into a tentacle, then into a variety of other shapes. “One of the perks of working here, for sure. They’re cagey about sharing tech. This is the best prosthesis I’ve ever encountered.”

I thought of the hard metal-and-plastic replacement limbs that were standard on Earth. They would be wildly out of place on this guy’s squishy octopus body. And no amount of interchangeable attachments would be able to beat this kind of easy shapeshifting. I said, “That looks really useful.”

“It is!”

The loud door opened to admit a wall of sound, along with the human-and-Strongarm pair. Which I realized with a start was actually just a human wearing more transparent tentacles on his back.

“Here’s the new set,” he said to the Strongarm, placing a clear box on the table that was full of a stack of more flat blue things. They appeared to be cut into very specific shapes. I might have been curious about what they were for if not for the much more interesting thing to be curious about.

“Hello,” I said. “Does everyone who works here get extra limbs?”

The tan human grinned. “If they want ‘em! And they pass the screening, of course. But you’ve got to leave them here each day if they’re the bonus kind, as opposed to replacements.”

The Strongarm wiggled his tentacles in a taunting manner. “I can open packages and slice food so easily at home.”

The human made a face and wiggled the tentacles on his back. “Yeah yeah, we’re all jealous. Someday I’ll convince the bosses that there’s an actual market for these, and I’ll be the first in line to buy my own.”

“They think there isn’t?” I asked in shock. “Those look so useful! I can’t list the number of times I’ve wished for more hands. Using teeth and feet only goes so far.”

Zhee made a disparaging hiss. “You have that many fingers, and still want more? Greedy.”

“I’m just saying that re-weaving a cargo net would go much faster if I could hold all of the fibers at once,” I told him, then turned to the Frillians. “Back me up. Two arms just isn’t enough sometimes, right?”

Blip and Blop looked at each other and shrugged. “I guess?” Blip said. “But that’s just when it’s time to get another person to help.”

Zhee clicked a pincher. “Exactly so. Or approach the problem differently.”

The human told me, “I’ve had this conversation more than once. Apparently not all species grow up imagining what it’s like to have bird wings or monkey tails or whatnot.”

“Surely other people want to fly,” I said. The expressions around me were dishearteningly blank. “Surely!”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” the human said. “See why I couldn’t convince the bosses?”

“But even on a practicality standpoint!” I exclaimed. “They have you using them here; why wouldn’t they think you’d want to use them at home?”

He shrugged, moving the tentacles in a graceful wave as he did. “Alien brains. I’ve given up trying to fully understand.”

The Strongarm spoke up. “If there are actually a large number of humans who would buy these, then it couldn’t hurt to put together a request from outside sources. The bosses don’t listen to random employees who are probably biased, but they might take an interest in actual buyers.”

I shook my head slowly. “Our courier ship isn’t going to be that kind of buyer, especially not at the scale they’d probably need.”

“What about big human ships?” Blip asked. “We could suggest it to the next one we meet.”

“Or human colonies,” Blop said. “Or large groups at space stations.”

Zhee said, “I heard Captain Sunlight talking about a delivery to Basal Station soon. There are plenty of humans there. You could suggest it to them, if you think this is really that widespread an interest.”

“It couldn’t hurt,” I said, thinking. There was indeed a significant human population on that space station, which might even include the crew I’d met from the droid jousting ship Hold My Beer. They were definitely the type to appreciate some extra arms. Both for working on finicky electronics and general slapfight shenanigans.

“Here, we should have something with the contact information,” said the Strongarm. “Jon, is there a notepad over there?”

“Yeah, got it.” The human leaned over a table and used his tentacles to lift a stack of books so he could pull out the small notepad at the bottom. That may have been showing off. “Here you go!” He handed it to me with his regular hand.

“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll see if I can find the right ears to whisper into.”

“Best of luck!” he said. “My partner has asked me no less than half a dozen times if I could sneak my set home to play around with, but I’m not gonna risk the job.”

I laughed, hoping I wasn’t blushing. “Oh man, I wasn’t even going to mention the bedroom applications.”

Of course Zhee had to ask, tilting his head with faceted eyes shining. “The what?”

“Remember how most humans find tentacles a little creepy?” I asked him, pocketing the notepad.

“I recall. It makes this insistence all the stranger.”

“Well, some humans aren’t creeped out at all. Kind of the opposite. They like them a lot. In a, uh, private fashion.”

Jon the human spelled it out for him. “Mating rituals.”

Zhee’s antennae did a complicated dance, then settled in something that looked like disgust. “I was about to ask why, but I’ve decided I don’t want to know.”

“Yeah, best not to,” I agreed. “Anyway! Very useful extra arms. Good for a wide variety of activities. Other humans will likely be interested.”

“Very likely,” Jon agreed.

I activated the hovercart with a nod, and we said our goodbyes. The employees wished me luck. They returned to work while we headed back toward our ship.

Zhee grumbled disparaging things about my species the whole way, but that was nothing new.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

PS: the story with the good ship Hold My Beer is here, if you're wondering about that. It's fun.

[shandzii]

Wait can we see Sam and gabs parents????

Their dads belong to and were designed by @sleepyeule sfghjk their names are Zazel and Uri respectively 

[muffinlance]

JUST FINISHED THE SKIN STEALER'S SON. YOU ARE A GENIUS. I WANT TO CRY.

I am sure Anon is crying tears of joy. This is certainly nothing to be concerned about. Please read my very feel-good book where everyone has a good time and gets to eat baked goods at the end

[xchronicles]

The more I think about Chakotay being stranded on Ysida for full 10 years, the less sense it makes in the context of the story.

To add a disclaimer, two of my favorite Trek episodes are Last Flight of the Protostar, parts 1 and 2. However, I truly believe that narratively, it would have worked just as well if Chakotay had been stranded for 'only' a year. In fact, it makes more sense from a storytelling perspective than having him be there for the full 10 years for no good reason.

Why you ask?

He is a character who has suffered greatly throughout his life and was already stranded in the Delta Quadrant for 7 years. Chakotay's portrayal as a person of color unfortunately falls into a common media trope where marginalized characters are often made to endure significant hardship or trauma to justify their character arc and presence in the story. Prodigy should have done better than subjecting him to a cruel 10 years of isolation for no good reason other than to make him, and I quote, 'grizzled'.

The Protostar was rendered completely useless on Ysida, making his role as its 'guardian' meaningless. If someone had found him, he was alone and essentially powerless, so there was little he could have done to prevent anyone from taking the ship.

I believe Chakotay would have been in a much worse state after 10 years of isolation (possibly even dead) compared to how the kids found him. Did the creators consider the severe effects of such prolonged isolation on a person, regardless of their strength? Chakotay had already shown vulnerability and a tendency to slip. His return to the prime universe doesn’t accurately reflect the trauma of a decade alone. His behavior and condition would be far more believable if he had been isolated for just a year.

If the math is correct, Chakotay is 66 years old. Despite the extended human lifespan in the Trek universe, aging still happens naturally. Janeway planned to retire at a younger age than Chakotay's current one, especially considering his 10 years of isolation. Given this context, it seems implausible that Chakotay would be assigned command of Voyager-A so soon after a decade of trauma, even if some time has passed. Someone stranded for so long might indeed be eager to avoid staying in one place and go back to work to honor his lost crew. However, his deep survivor’s guilt and unresolved trauma from those 10 years should have made such a quick return to command problematic. The reality is that Chakotay, at 66 and with a decade of emotional scars, wouldn’t realistically be ready to take on the captaincy without addressing his past experiences in a more meaningful way. Chakotay bounced back to his old self the moment the 'Cracked Mirror' episode happened, and his hardships and trauma are never addressed or mentioned again. It was a significant and intense arc for Chakotay, involving deep trauma that could not realistically be resolved within just two episodes. Yet, the story completely disregarded this development once it was no longer needed.

All of this could have been avoided if he had been stranded on Ysida for just a year.

If they needed Adreek to be a skeleton to set up that scene, it could have been attributed to anything on the planet affecting him after he died. The planet was hostile enough that no one would question how this happened. If we assume Adreek decided to look for a solution after a couple of months and then went missing, that would give Chakotay enough time to end up in the state he was found in by the kids—scruffy hair, a torn shirt, and all. Spending an additional 6 months alone, reflecting on what happened to his friend and dealing with such a sensitive topic, is a significant amount of time.

[patolemus]

Stiles sits in the front row at the funeral.

He’s next to Mellisa, who hasn’t been able to stop crying since she got the news. Stiles’ dad had organized the whole thing, talking with the funerary home and picking up the coffin and the arrangements. He’d only asked Melissa what she wanted on the headstone.

Raphael had showed up the day after. For the first time in his life, he’d looked a mess, hair everywhere and clothes wrinkled as he stormed into the house asking what had happened to his son, tears already gathering in his eyes before he even got a look at Melissa’s face. Stiles hadn’t made fun of him. Stiles hadn’t said anything at all. Raphael sits on Melissa’s other side now, and she grips his hand tight enough it turns white. He hasn’t been back for five years.

God, Scott hadn’t seen his had for five years, and now he’s dead. Scott’s dead.

Stiles thinks it still hasn’t sunk in. He’s in the middle of his best friend’s funeral - it’s closed casket because his body was so mangled up that the EMPs could barely recognize him. Stiles had heard his dad on the phone with one of his deputies talking about it, before he’d realized just whose body they were talking about - and it still hasn’t clicked that Scott won’t be coming out of his casket, that this isn’t some kind of sick practical joke for getting him out of bed the night before school started.

Stiles is not crying. He hasn’t cried once since hearing the news. His dad is crying, sitting on his other side. Scott’s like a second son to him.

Was. Scott was like a second son to him. Was because he’s gone now. Because he’s dead.

Scott’s dead.

His best friend since preschool is dead. His brother is dead. The kindest, most caring person in the world is dead. Stiles goaded him into going to the preserve to look for half a dead body - and God, he’s such an asshole. A dead body? What was he even thinking? - and now Scott doesn’t even get to show his face at his own funeral because whatever killed him barely left any of him to bury.

If only he’d stayed. If only he’d told his dad Scott was with him that night instead of leaving him there. But no, Stiles hadn’t wanted Scott to get grounded because he dragged him out of bed, so he’d kept quiet. Even when he’d seen the pair of red eyes and that— that thing in the corner of his eye. Stiles hadn’t said anything. He thought they’d laugh about it at lunch the next day.

Now Scott’s dead.

Scott is dead.

And Stiles knows exactly what did it.

(He’s going to fucking kill it.)

[biherbalwitch]

no because changbin has got to be one of the most mentally healthy people, in the industry sure, but also in general. to have such a balanced head on your shoulders to be able to confidently say "I know why I'm here. I know my purpose on this earth." and that inner conviction being so strong that it's not shaken by outside opinions or hate is an ability I admire and respect, especially since he's in a career that exposes him to such opinions x100. On top of that, admitting how he's actually afraid of a lot of things to me just shows how brave he is

Any time I heard him talk I felt he was a role model/"I wish I was 5% like him" kind of person since we're the same age and it's impressive to hear how he navigates his life & inner thoughts like idk if it's due to growing in a healthy family (can't relate lol), therapy, a strong support network, or all three but I completely believe the he is skz's root/pillar/glue as they said. These boys all have their own strength but I don't think the group would've survived without his existence, guidance, or giving them a safe place if only just to talk as well as his strong work ethic alongside chan's

I'm sorry this turned into a whole rant but I needed to get my thoughts out

[minhmynchi]

right, that phone selfie kinda trend that's on twt... alright, here's my take

[tea-potato-gt]

I think about this a lot👁️👄👁️

G/t July day 10 “Alien”

“Beautiful…”

Full fight here If you wanna know how they ended up like this...

Miriya (green hair) is part of a Giant alien race called the Zentraedi, she was defeated by Max in aerial combat.

Max (blue hair) is a human ace pilot.

She eventually transforms herself into a human/micronian to try and kill Max with a knife as revenge. But after some shenanigans and a failed murder attempt later, Miriya and Max get married and have a bunch of Daughters. 🤪👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

Miriya is a 10/10 mom 👍 Max is so unbothered😂

[triglycercule]

idea. since askdusttale answered an ask about where dust got his determination from (because dust has SOME determination just so he can remember the timelines and keep going against the human) and said it was totally up to personal interpretation on how he got his determination. so so so like what if what if dusttale's player did something similar to something new's player and changed dust's code to give him determination??? so dust and killer COULD BOTH had their codes tampered with??? the parallels would be INSANE. they both started off as sans and got their codes tampered with by the player but dust and killer went on two opposite paths. dust out of his own voalition decided to go against the human but killer had to team up with the human no choice at all. the opposite parallels go CRAZY oh god im tweaking

killer doesn't know exactly (since i forgot whether or not he can see codes or something like that. i swear there was an image of him describing fell and swap's code and then his own) but he can SENSE that something's off. something's different about dust that he doesn't quite know about. maybe it gets him to ask a bunch of questions that dust is definitely not open to answering because jesus man mind your own damn business but the question that really sets killer off is the way dust answers when he asks "so if you have determination then how did you get it?" and dust just shrugs his shoulders and said that one day he suddenly remembered the resets and then that's when he got it (and then goes back to mumbling to phantom paps or wtvr) and killer's just like. zomg. a sudden change in behavior or mentality that seemingly has no apparent reason related to the human???? like like like when he suddenly had to agree with the player despite literally never wanting to????? killer is over thinking the implications behind this

meanwhile dust is just annoyed now because killer keeps on following him. he keeps asking him strange questions. wtf why is the guy asking to see his SOUL that's incredibly personal???? he just wants to be left alone man he has no idea what's going on