#King Tides Oregon

[treasurechestmemories]

King Tides Oregon Coast Winter Storm 2023

[bobcronkphotography]

Silver Seascape

Oregon Coast

Bob Cronk

[ocean-witch-wild]

I've lived here for over two years... I'm never not in awe. I'm never not screaming out internally to sad girl music, the wind whipping my hair dramatically. I just love it.

Round one ♡ King Tides

[tommy-vulgar]

Having thoughts of Njörðr today after enjoying the king tides. Hail to the old gods!

[thethief1996]

Israel has cut water, electricity and food to Palestinians in Gaza. They are buying 10.000 M16 rifles and plan to distribute to civilian settlers in the West Bank to hunt down Palestinians. They're bombing the only way out of Gaza through Egypt, after telling refugees to flee through it, and have threatened the Egyptian government in case they let aid trucks pass through. Entire families, generations, are being wiped out and left to wander the streets hoping they don't get bombed.

Palestinians are using their last minutes of battery to let the world know about their genocide and are being met with a wall of "What about Hamas? What about the beheaded babies? Killing children on either side is bad!" even though the propaganda claims have been debunked over and over again. How cruel is it to ask somebody to condemn themselves before their last words? Or before grieving the loss of their entire families? When there's no such disclaimer to Israelis even though their government has shown over and over genocidal intent? Like who are you even trying to appease? What will your wishy washy statement do against decades of zionist thought infiltrating evangelical and Jewish stablishmemts?

Take action. Israel will fall back if public opinion turns its tide. The UK fell back on its bloody decision to cut aid to Palestine under public scrutiny. The USAmerican empire spends $3.8 billion dollars annually solely on this proxy war while its people suffer under a progressively military regime as well. News outlets are canceling last minute on Palestinian speakers while letting Israelis tell lies unchecked. Palestinian refugees are being targeted in ICE establishments and mosques are already being hounded by the FBI. France and Germany have banned pro-Palestine protests, while Netherlands and the UK have placed restrictions . You have the chance to stop this from turning into repeat of the Iraq war.

I want to do something but there's hardly anything for me to do from Brasil besides spreading the word and not letting these testimonies fall on deaf ears. I'm asking you to do this same ant work from wherever you are.

Follow:

Eye On Palestine (instagram / twitter)

Mohammed El-Kurd (instagram / twitter)

Decolonize Palestine (website with a chronological explanation of the occupation and debunking myths)

Muhammad Shehada (twitter)

Plestia Alaqad (directly from Gaza. Many of her videos are interrupted by bombs)

If there's a protest in your city, please attend. Here's an international calendar of events:

Friday, October 13

ALBUQUERQUE, NM (US) – Fri Oct. 13, 3 pm, UNM Bookstore, University of New Mexico. Organized by Southwest Coalition for Palestine.

BERKELEY, CALIFORNIA (US) – Fri Oct 13, 6 pm, Sproul Hall (Vigil), University of California Berkeley. Organized by Bears for Palestine.

DOUAIS, FRANCE – Fri Oct 13, 6:30 pm, Place de’Armes.

GOTHENBURG, SWEDEN – Fri Oct 13, 5:30 pm, Brunnsparken. Organized by Palestinska samordningsgruppen Gothenburg.

GREENSBORO, NC (US) – Fri Oct. 13, 4 pm, Wendover Village, 4203 W Wendover Ave, Greensboro, NC. Organized by Muslims for a Better NC.

LONDON, ENGLAND – Fri Oct 13, 5 pm, Keir Starmer’s Office, Crowndale Center, 218 Eversholt St, London. Organized by IJAN UK.

MEANJIN/BRISBANE, AUSTRALIA – Fri Oct 13, 6 pm, King George Square.

MIAMI, FL (US) – Fri Oct 13, 4:30 pm, Bayfront Park. Organized by Troika Kollectiv.

NAPOLI, ITALY – Fri Oct 13, 4:30 pm, Piazza Garibaldi, Napoli. Organized by GPI and Centro Culturale Handala Ali.

NGUNNAWAL/CANBERRA, AUSTRALIA – Fri Oct 13, 5:30 pm, Carema Place.

PERTH/BOORLOO, AUSTRALIA – Fri Oct. 13, 5:30 pm, Murray Street Hall, Boorloo/Perth. Organized by Friends of Palestine WA.

PORTLAND, OREGON (US) – Fri Oct 13, 3 pm, 1200-1220 SW 5th Ave, Portland.

PORT RICHEY, FL (US) – Fri Oct 13, 7:30 am, Route 19 and Ridge Road, Port Richey. Sponsored by: Florida Peace Action Network; Partners for Palestine; CADSI

PRETORIA, SOUTH AFRICA – Friday, Oct. 13, 7 pm, UP Main Campus, DSA Building opposite Thuto. Organized by PSC UP.

WITSWATERSRAND UNIVERSITY (SOUTH AFRICA) – Fri Oct 13, 1 pm, Great Hall Piazza, Flag demonstration. Organized by Wits PSC.

Saturday, October 14

ABERDEEN, SCOTLAND – Sat, Oct. 14, 2 pm, St. Nichlas Square. Organized by Scottish PSC.

AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND – Sat Oct 14, 2 pm, Aotea Square, Queens St, 291-2997 Queen St. Organized by PSN Aotearoa.

DETROIT/DEARBORN, MICHIGAN (US) – Sat Oct 14, 2 pm, Ford Woods Park, 5700 Greenfield Road. Organized by SAFE, PYM, SJP, Handala Coalition, more.

DUNDEE, SCOTLAND – Sat, Oct. 14, 2 pm, Place TBA. Organized by Scottish PSC.

EDINBURGH, SCOTLAND – Sat, Oct 14, 2 pm, Princes Street at Foot of the Mound. Organized by Scottish PSC.

FRANKFURT, GERMANY – Sat Oct 14, 3 pm Hauptwache, Frankfurt am Main. Sponsored by Palestina eV, Migrantifa Rhein-Main and more.

GLASGOW, SCOTLAND – Sat. Oct 14, 2 pm, Buchanan Steps. Organized by Scottish PSC.

HOUSTON, TEXAS (US) – Sat Oct 14, 2 pm, City Hall, 901 Bagby St. Organizd by PYM, PAC, USPCN, SJP and more.

LIVERPOOL, ENGLAND – Sat Oc 14, 12 pm, Church St. Organized by FRFI.

LONDON, ENGLAND – Sat Oct 14, 12 pm, BBC Portland Place, London. Organized by a broad coalition.

MILANO, ITALY – Sat. Oct 14, 3:30 pm, Piazza San Babila. Organized by Young Palestinians of Italy, UDAP, Palestinian Community, Association of Palestinians.

ORLANDO, FLORIDA – Sat Oct 14, 3 pm, Lake Eola at Robinson and Eola, Orland. Organized by Florida Palestine Network.

TORINO, ITALY – Sat. Oct. 14, 3 pm, Piazza Crispi. Organized by Progetto Palestina.

VALPARAISO, CHILE – Sat Oct 14, 6 pm, Plaza Victoria, Valparaiso. Organized by Comite Chileno de Solidaridad con Palestina.

WASHINGTON, DC (US) – Sat Oct 14, 1 pm, Lafayette Square. Organized by AMP.

Sunday, October 15

AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS – Sun Oct 15, 2 pm, March from Dam Square to Jonas Daniel Meijer plein.

NAARM/MELBOURNE, AUSTRALIA – Sun Oct 15, State Library Victoria.

TARDANYA/ADELAIDE, AUSTRALIA – Sun Oct 15, 2 pm, Parliament House.

AUSTIN, TEXAS (US) – Sun Oct 15, 3 pm, Texas Capitol. Organized by PSC ATX.

GADIGAL/SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA – Sun Oct 15, 1 pm, Sydney Town Hall.

SANTIAGO, CHILE -Sun Oct 15, 11 am, Plaza Dignidad, Santiago. Organized by Comite Chileno de Solidaridad con Palestina.

[mutant-distraction]

Welcome to another round of King Tides in Depoe Bay, Oregon

📸 Brian Stone

[swamiswampy]

Two of my favorite shots in a weekend trip to the Oregon Coast to watch the King Tides.

[onyxtides]

Gothic Style with a beautiful silver skull pendant is made in honor King Hades who is the god of the underworld and of the dead, he is heavily connected to earth and it’s rich minerals underneath. As King of the underworld it is his duty to keep the living out and to keep souls where their suppose to be in his realm.

This piece is made out of triple aaa rated beads, onyx, pyrite and garnet and tarnish resistant wire. It is long enough to slip over the head but if you want it a clasp added to it please message me about it either prior or right at purchase. This comes with an organza travel bag.

🖤 Due to COVID everything is sanitized before being packaged and shipped out

🖤 If you see something you like but it’s not quiet perfect, feel free to message me because I am taking commissions/customs at this time.

[bouncinghedgehog]

CG47 entering the World's smallest harbor during King Tides! 2020 Chief Magazine edit. Depoe Bay, Oregon.

[rockislandadultreads]

Libby Spotlight: History eAudiobooks

Graveyard of the Pacific by Randall Sullivan (read by Lynch Travis)

Off the coast of Oregon, the Columbia River flows into the Pacific Ocean and forms the Columbia River Bar: a watery collision so turbulent and deadly that it's nicknamed the Graveyard of the Pacific. Two thousand ships have been wrecked on the bar since the first European ship dared to try to cross it. Since then, the commercial importance of the Columbia River has only grown, but despite the construction of jetties on either side, the bar remains treacherous.

When Randall Sullivan and a friend set out to cross the bar in a two-man kayak, they're met with skepticism and concern. But on a clear day in July 2021, when the tides and weather seem right, they embark. As they plunge through the currents that have taken so many lives, Randall commemorates the brave sailors that made the crossing before him—including his own abusive father, a sailor himself who also once dared to cross the bar—and reflects on toxic masculinity, fatherhood, and what drives men to extremes.

Rich with exhaustive research and propulsive narrative, Graveyard of the Pacific follows historical shipwrecks through the moment-by-moment details that often determined whether sailors would live or die, exposing the ways in which boats, sailors, and navigation have changed over the decades.

King by Jonathan Eig (read by Dion Graham)

Vividly written and exhaustively researched, Jonathan Eig's King: A Life is the first major biography in decades of the civil rights icon Martin Luther King Jr.—and the first to include recently declassified FBI files.

In this revelatory new portrait of the preacher and activist who shook the world, the bestselling biographer gives us an intimate view of the courageous and often emotionally troubled human being who demanded peaceful protest for his movement but was rarely at peace with himself. He casts fresh light on the King family's origins as well as MLK's complex relationships with his wife, father, and fellow activists. King reveals a minister wrestling with his own human frailties and dark moods, a citizen hunted by his own government, and a man determined to fight for justice even if it proved to be a fight to the death. As he follows MLK from the classroom to the pulpit to the streets of Birmingham, Selma, and Memphis, Eig dramatically re-creates the journey of a man who recast American race relations and became our only modern-day founding father—as well as the nation's most mourned martyr.

Koresh by Stephan Talty (read by Sean Pratt)

No other event in the last fifty years is shrouded in myth like the 1993 siege of the Branch Davidians in Waco, Texas. Today, we remember this moment for the 76 people, including 20 children, who died in the fire; for its inspiration of the Oklahoma City bombing; and for the wave of anti-government militarism that followed. What we understand far less is what motivated the Davidians' enigmatic leader, David Koresh.

Drawing on first-time, exclusive interviews with Koresh's family and survivors of the siege, bestselling author Stephan Talty paints a psychological portrait of this infamous icon of the 1990s. Born Vernon Howell into the hyper-masculine world of central Texas in the 1960s, Koresh experienced a childhood riven with abuse and isolation. He found a new version of himself in the halls of his local church, and love in the fundamentalist sect of the Branch Davidians. Later, with a new name and professed prophetic powers, Koresh ushered in a new era for the Davidians that prized his own sexual conquest as much as his followers' faith. As one survivor has said, "What better way for a worthless child to feel worth than to become God?"

In his signature immersive storytelling, Talty reveals how Koresh's fixation on holy war, which would deliver the Davidians to their reward and confirm himself as Christ, collided with his paranoid obsession with firearms to destructive effect. Their deadly, 51-day standoff with the embattled FBI and ATF, he shows, embodied an anti-government ethic that continues to resonate today.

The Windsors at War by Alexander Larman (read by Sophie Roberts)

At the beginning of 1937, the British monarchy was in a state of turmoil. The previous king, Edward VIII, had abdicated the throne, leaving his unprepared and terrified brother Bertie to become George VI, surrounded by a gaggle of courtiers and politicians who barely thought him up to the job. Meanwhile, as the now-Duke of Windsor awaited the decree that would allow him to marry his mistress Wallis Simpson, he took an increased interest in the expansionist plans of Adolf Hitler. He may even have gone so far as to betray his country in the process. And as double agents and Nazi spies thronged the corridors of Buckingham Palace, the only man the King could trust was his Prime Minister, Winston Churchill. But they faced a formidable, even unbeatable, adversary: his own brother.

The Windsors at War tells the never-before-told story of World War Two in Britain and America with a fresh focus on the royal family, their conflicted relationships, and the events that rocked the international press. How did this squabbling, dysfunctional family manage to put their differences aside and unite to help win the greatest conflict of their lifetimes? Alexander Larman, author of The Crown in Crisis, now chronicles the Windsor family at war with Germany—and each other.

[torpublishinggroup]

Because it’s unseasonably warm despite this post going up in the dead (horror joke lol) of winter, how about a scary fun beach read??

Black Tide by KC Jones is your classic disaster girl meets mopey af but rich dude tale, where the two plus a Very Good golden retriever snack on self loathing and orange juice as they treat themselves to a beach picnic after a sordid night of mistakes. But it’s not just beach time, baby. The aliens are here, and they’re feral and scary. And the only safe spot is inside the sand-stuck SUV with a dead engine. And the tide is rising. 

A character-driven science fiction/horror blend, KC Jones' Black Tide is Stephen King's Cujo / The Mist meets A Quiet Place. It was just another day at the beach. Then the world ended. Mike and Beth were strangers before the night of the meteor shower. Chance made them neighbors, a bottle of champagne brought them together, and a shared need for human connection sparked something more. Following their drunken and desperate one-night stand, the two discover the astronomical event has left widespread destruction in its wake. But the cosmic lightshow was only part of something much bigger, and far more terrifying. When a lost car key leaves them stranded on an empty stretch of Oregon coast and inhuman screams echo from the dunes, when the rising tide reaches for their car and unspeakable horrors close in around them, these two self-destructive souls must fight to survive a nightmare of apocalyptic scale.

[doomedandstoned]

DIE LIKE GENTLEMEN Return with Fiery Double Album ‘Hard Truths’

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

By Billy Goate

“Ocean at Night with Burning Ship” by Marcus Larson

DIE LIKE GENTLEMEN have always represented to me the ideal fusion of rock and metal. Drawing on their sludgey roots, the Portland, Oregon quartet adopts progressive and dramatic elements for a punchy sound that is, in the band's words, "new and original, yet familiar." This is no less true on their fifth album, 'Hard Truths' (2021).

In the opener "Guts of a Beggar," a homeless man proclaims: "How can you just step over me? I'm still a man. Even stewing in my own filth, I’m still a man." It is sung with lusty aplomb by the throaty vocals of frontman Adam Alexander. High drama at its best, the first chapter of what feels like an epic adventure as the record spins along.

This takes us to the apocalyptic, "Last Night On Earth," which bemoans our blithe attitude towards this place we call home, as we tear it away little by little.

We’ll pay by degrees plastic tides recede mountains of debris

"Whipping Boy" begins with a chugging gallop and vocals that reach levels of epic doom, mingled with elements of the New Wave of British Heavy Metal. The verses and choruses here are hearty and robust, something that's become a Die Like Gentlemen trademark.

whatever crimes the kings devise the whipping boy will pay the price

"Letting in the Rain" is another standout track, coming later in the album. It captures the gloom, uncertainty, and paranoia of isolation during a long Northwest winter ("Did I leave these footprints on my floor? Did I unlock this door?").

There is sardonic humor on the record, too, as on "Bury Me." If you've ever wanted to watch the world burn, then perhaps you can relate to this dying man's plea:

Bury me but only up to my eyes so I can see the world and watch the spool unfurl

Bury me but only up to my nose so I can smell the smoke and hear the living choke

Lyrics seem to touch upon matters relatable to our time, yet strangely removed from it, as if coming from the realm of dreams. It's like a Dr. Suess poem full of odd characters, unusual turns of a phrase, and whimsical illusions. Not quite a Neil Fallon word salad (Clutch) or a Serge Tankian spittoon (System of a Down), Die Like Gentlemen nevertheless traffic in the urgent, carnal, and bizarre.

The music itself seems to pull you right out to sea in an undertow of brash vocals, bold tonal choices, progressive stylings, and frenetic unease. When I search for the nearest anchoring point, I compare it with Mastodon's Leviathan.

In the end, vocalist/guitarist Adam Alexander comments:

We just write what we write. We all share a lot of influences – classic rock, death metal, doom, grunge. I guess it’s where we feel most comfortable: darkness, anger, anxiety, depression and doom. We’re not the first band to find freedom in dwelling on darker aspects but we’re always following different inspirations to keep things interesting.

Hard Truths is Die Like Gentlemen's most robust effort to date. It releases March 17th and will be issued on CD and 2xLP in addition to digital via Drink This Music (pre-order here). For fans of Mastodon, The Lord Weird Slough Feg, and Melvins.

Give ear...

Hard Truths by Die Like Gentlemen

SOME BUZZ

It’s remarkable to think that almost ten years on from the release of their 2013 debut, 'Romantic Delusions of Hell,' venerable cult rockers Die Like Gentlemen remain one of Portland Underground’s best kept secrets.

Born into the city’s heavy music scene; distinguished, eloquent and steeped in the spirit of Priest and Sabbath, for too long the Pacific Northwest’s gain has very much been the wider world’s loss.

However, this year all that should change. The band makes a thunderous return and with it bring their progressive rock leanings, deft song writing, heavy metal riffs, and well-warranted self-confidence on 'Hard Truths' (2023), their fifth studio album and most ambitious and cohesive work yet.

Photograph by Stephanie Savenkoff

The last few years have been a challenge for everyone in our little town of Portland: the politics, the pandemic, the isolation, the wildfires, the protests, the crime, the poverty, the addicted, and the toll of all this upon our collective mental well-being.

This album, years in the making, was written against this backdrop of turmoil, always keeping in mind that we cannot defeat our demons without first staring them in the face and acknowledging them for what they are: an aspect of ourselves.

'Hard Truths' is a swirling tempest of heavy metal and classic rock, in keeping with the band’s Odysseus-like approach to exploration, rocking hard against prevailing winds of change. A full hour of twists and turns, wails and screams, passion and precision, and through it all, grappling with some very hard truths about ourselves and the world.

Follow The Band

Get Their Music

[callunavulgari]

Year-In-Fic | 2022

This is... very late. I almost didn’t do it at all. But you know what, I like my traditions, even if it takes me two months to claw myself free of the pit of despair long enough to do it.

How many fics did you write this year? What was your total wordcount?

In 2022 I wrote 18 fics, for a total of 62,476 words. About 30k less than I did in 2021, which is disappointing, but not surprising. Between mental health tripwires and planning a wedding (harder than it sounds, do not recommend, do yourself a favor and elope) last year was the pits.

Fic Roundup!

what for d'you yearn? | The Witcher | Yennefer/Jaskier/Geralt | 5,481 words | Yennefer fucks Jaskier the third week that she is at Kaer Morhen.

the spring will come with the floods | Harry Potter | Drarry | 1,677 words | On a dreary day in early June, Harry Potter gets stuck in Draco’s wards.

tear you apart | The Untamed | SXX | 6,656 words | “Awful lot of effort,” Xue Yang says. “To save someone you’ve never met before. Don’t you get something out of it?”

find hope in the hopeless | Stranger Things | Harringrove | 861 words |  Billy closes his eyes on Starcourt Mall, Max a hazy silhouette above him, haloed in light.

like holy days | Stranger Things | Harringrove | 2001 words | He looks up at Steve from under his lashes, tongue between his teeth, and cocks his head. “We good, King Steve?”

this is a life | The Untamed | SXX | 9500 words |  “Well,” Xiao Xingchen says brightly. “You’re welcome to join us for a little while. We’re heading to Oregon, so we can basically take you as far as you want as long as it’s on the way.”

my kingdom for your graces | The Untamed | SXX | 2,616 words |  In the kitchen, Xiao Xingchen is cutting Xue Yang a slice of olive oil cake, the top of her head just barely visible over the fruit bowl perched on the dividing counter between kitchen and living room.

don’t feed it, it will come back | Stranger Things | Eddie/Steve | 861 words | Steve Harrington spins Eddie Munson back to life on a Saturday.

when the autumn moon is bright | Teen Wolf | Derek/Stiles | 2207 words | “Hello Derek,” he gasps, eyes sparking with delight.

no wealth, no ruin | PJO | Nico, Gen | 770 words | Nico di Angelo takes his last breath in broad daylight, the sun gleaming at him through the trees overhead.

don’t look under the bed | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 3528 words | When Ryan Bergara was younger, he had an imaginary friend named Shane.

if the sun comes up | Stranger Things | Eddie/Steve | 1695 words |  “Oh baby, don’t do that,” Eddie says, transferring Steve’s wrists to one hand so that he can use the other to catch Steve by the throat and shake him like a rag doll until Steve’s dizzy and reeling, nausea thick on his tongue.

mirror, mirror, what’s behind you? | LoZ | Link/Dark Link | 1441 words | There is a mirror in the furthest corner of Hyrule Palace that is guarded day and night.

listen to your heart bleed | TMA | Martin/Jon | 1467 words | “Hello Jon,” Martin tells the floating figure that used to be his boyfriend, crossing the room to take a seat in the chair a few feet to the left of Jon’s dangling feet.

leave your life open (somebody hears you) | Stranger Things | Billy/Steve/Eddie | 6,444 words | The first time that Steve sees Billy after Starcourt, he thinks that he’s hallucinating.

who is this irresistible creature who has an insatiable love for the dead? | Stranger Things | Billy/Steve/Eddie | 4,831 words | local witch and his revenant boyfriend resurrect mutual crush.

the tide will take, the sea will rise | The Untamed | SongXueXiao | 7106 words | Xue Yang dies on a Tuesday. The following morning, he wakes up.

Rest Stop | LoZ: Majora’s Mask | Gen, Link & Romani, Link & Tatl | 3,334 words | “You have a magic ocarina that rewinds time. You can take a break.“

Best story I wrote this year:

What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.

Weirdly enough, I think it was find hope in the hopeless, which was a very short atmospheric one-shot that I spun together in the hours leading up to the premiere of the new season of Stranger Things. I wrote it while Nick was playing through the ashtray maze level of Control, and was just stupidly charmed by Billy getting a softer death - something to kind of lull him to sleep. A death still, sure, but something tender. Wanted. I ended up making myself weep a little, because when it comes down to it I am still sad about the tragedy that is Billy Hargrove.

Okay, NOW your most popular story.

It looks like my most popular fic was what for d’you yearn, coming in at 611 kudos, followed by when the autumn moon is bright, which is sitting at 355. The runner ups are ghost sex the fic, fish sex the fic, and a very short Drarry one-shot, because I was feeling them last Spring.

Story of mine most underappreciated by the universe, in my opinion:

I think probably listen to your heart bleed, which was the canon-divergent coda that I wrote for The Magnus Archives during dark month. Basically, Jon becomes the Eye and they continue on with a different sort of sad, quiet apocalypse. 

Most fun story to write:

Can I say the story with all the fish sex? Because tear you apart was a horny mess that was a total blast to write. I honestly didn’t expect it to get too much attention, because I was very up front with my tags about its particular brand of kink, but hey. Monster fuckers unite and all that.

Story that could have been better?

I really, really wish that I’d had more time to craft who is this irresistible creature who has an insatiable love for the dead? into something better. I wrote a ton of it in the aftermath of the season, but ended up getting stuck somewhere and didn’t really finish it until dark month, and then it was just a rush to the finish. I wish I’d taken the time to properly drag it out, and maybe even gotten around to the boning. But October was coming to an end, and if I didn’t post it then, I never would have, so I made due.

Story I wrote to fix things:

God, I think most of these are fix-it fics. Some of them are porny ones, some are sad introspective ones, and others are just plain old fashioned fix it. I think that  leave your life open (somebody hears you) was the closest I got to a true fix it fic, a fic where Steve sees (2) dead people and Eddie and Billy get some kind of catharsis in fucking the small town jock in the afterlife. I don’t know, it was fun to write and I was grieving Eddie.

Longest completed fic this year:

this is a life was nearly 10k. Written for the MXTX exchange, it was basically 10k of will they or won’t they with the added bonus of road trips and chaos gremlin Xue Yang. I enjoyed writing it!

Fandom you enjoyed writing for most this year:

Honestly? Probably Stranger Things. The Untamed bits were great, but I’m still so weak for Billy and Steve, and the added bonus of Eddie made it all the sweeter.

Favorite character you wrote this year:

Oh, definitely Yennefer. Don’t get me wrong, I love Xue Yang and Steve and Billy, but Yennefer was a JOY to write.

Most memorable comment(s) this year:

I mean they were all great, but my recipient’s comment on this is a life was this long rambling stream of consciousness as they were reading the fic and it was really so fantastic and made me so incredibly happy. I also got a couple of really gorgeous thoughtful comments on both old Teen Wolf and old PJO fics, which are always a treat.

Fics you wanted to write but didn’t:

God, a ton. I don’t even know. I have a graveyard of abandoned thoughts at this point.

Oddest story:

Fish sex!

Hardest story to do:

I had some minor trouble with the tide will take, the sea will rise but over all, the fics didn’t fight me too much this year. I also had some issues with the ghosty Stranger Things fic later on in the year.

Easiest story to write?

Probably my kingdom for your graces, the super horny cis swap fic that I did just for an excuse for femme!Xue Yang to get absolutely railed in a dress. Though there were quite a few other ones that came super easy to me.

Most mining of your own history in one story:

I mean, not to be tmi, but I too have been railed over the side of a couch after having recently eaten cake, but somehow I don’t think that counts? I know in  listen to your heart bleed I had Martin reading Coraline to Jon, and that was around the time that I was reading it to Nick. That counts, right?

Themes, or absence thereof:

Vampires and monsterfucking, mostly.

Where did you publish/archive your stories?

Ao3, as per usual. I didn’t crosspost too much this year.

Story I haven’t yet written, but intend to:

I’m honestly pretty stuck when it comes to writing right now. I haven’t felt the drive and when I do it’s really fleeting and gone before I can properly square up. Most recently I have felt the urge to write a very brief ust filled one-shot of Jericho and Sam Lloyd from the Diviners, because there’s this moment in Lair of Dreams that makes me want it and I am the only person in existence who has even thought about it. I’ve also felt the urge to write more Aloy, but idk.

Sexiest moment (excerpt):

The fifth time that she fucks Jaskier, she does it in broad daylight. There’s buttery warm winter sunlight spilling in through the keep’s windows, and the corridor is deserted, everyone else out in the courtyard under the pretense of helping Ciri through her forms when really all they want to do is hassle Geralt about it, and—Well, Jaskier is there.

She lets him hitch her leg up around his hip and fuck her there in the hallway, right up against the stone wall next to the door to Geralt’s room. It’s hard and fast and hot, her hair coming undone from its braid as Jaskier works his hand into it, and she is right on the cusp, her mouth open against Jaskier’s shoulderblade when she catches a hint of movement down the corridor.

She turns her head, curious, still floating on a hazy cloud of pleasure, and meets Geralt's eyes over Jaskier’s shoulder.

She makes a noise unlike her—a low whine that she muffles into the side of Jaskier’s neck, and Jaskier hasn’t noticed yet. He’s close to coming, his thrusts growing erratic as he presses sweet murmurs into the curve of her throat, and Yennefer is— she’s always been selfish. She’s chased her own ambition, her own pleasure, for decades, pursued her own ideals at the cost of others. She isn’t the sort to regret it, not usually, but Geralt has always been a sore spot for her, a particular bruise that she enjoys prodding at whenever she thinks she's getting over him.

She keeps her eyes on Geralt as she urges Jaskier to fuck her harder, faster. Geralt’s face is slack, soft with something—surprise? Want? And if it is want, which of them is he busy wanting? Yennefer’s never come right out and asked Jaskier if he and Geralt ever fucked, but she’s clever enough to read between the lines. Jaskier is transparent in heartbreak, and if he and Geralt truly hadn’t fucked in the intervening years, then Yennefer is willing to bet that it wasn’t for a lack of desire.

When Jaskier comes, he makes a wounded sound into the curve of her throat, his entire body hitching into hers. She bites her lip, eyes growing heavy-lidded with pleasure as he reaches between them without missing a beat and thumbs between her legs until she follows him over, eyelids fluttering closed as she comes.

.

“Please,” Xue Yang gasps into the cushions. She never knows exactly what she’s asking for, but she asks anyway, because they somehow always do. Somewhere above her, Xiao Xingchen laughs, and then her hand is cupping Xue Yang’s chin, bringing it up and out of the cushions. The sweatpants are gone, leaving Xiao Xingchen bare from the waist down, and as Xue Yang watches, hungry, Xiao Xingchen’s legs part and she draws Xue Yang towards her.

Xue Yang likes bringing Xiao Xingchen off like this, with just her mouth, likes it better than using a toy or her fingers. Xiao Xingchen is hot against her, dripping for her, and Xue Yang loves this part, loves getting messy, so she loses herself in it, licking and sucking at Xiao Xingchen’s folds, her clit, her hole. All the while, Song Lan keeps fucking her through it, his thrusts never once slowing.

“You’re so good for us, a-Yang,” Xiao Xingchen tells her, fingers tightening in Xue Yang’s hair, and something in Xue Yang goes pliant, boneless and sated.

Song Lan fucks her through Xiao Xingchen’s first orgasm, through her second, through the third, until Xue Yang is red-faced and gasping, her chin slick, dizzy from a lack of oxygen.

“Please,” Xue Yang tells him through her teeth, after Xiao Xingchen’s finally pushed her gently away, leaving Xue Yang’s cheek pillowed on her thigh. Song Lan grunts, and, leaning over her, finally—finally—splays his hand out across her throat and squeezes hard, just the once.

Xue Yang’s entire world goes blank, white hot, stars exploding behind her eyelids as she comes hard, convulsing around him. She shudders, toes curling in the carpet, and lets out a throaty groan, going boneless all at once. She’s only half paying attention afterwards, floating in a haze of bliss. She’s aware of little things, Xiao Xingchen’s hand smoothing back her hair, the patter of an evening storm against the windows, and the distant realization that Song Lan is still fucking her, his hand clenched so tight around her hip that she knows there will be bruises tomorrow. Outside, the sun is going down. Xue Yang drifts for a while and wonders what kind of night this will be—if Song Lan will finish, smooth down her skirt, and send her on her way, or if it will be one of those nights, when they tug her up to bed and have her another six ways between them before plying her with pizza, still fucked out and sprawled across the sheets. She likes those nights best, because it soothes the cracked open thing in her chest that’s started making noises whenever she has to leave them afterwards.

Xue Yang surfaces all at once when Song Lan gets a fist in the back of her skirt and yanks it up even higher, until the fabric is bunched up between her shoulder blades. She makes a thin reedy sound when he shifts, going impossibly deeper as he stretches out along her back and closes his teeth around the column of her throat. He licks it afterwards, as if in apology, and then asks in a rough voice, “Where do you want it?”

The first time that he’d asked her that, she’d laughed. She’d been fresh off a shift and still stank of sweat and spoiled cream and espresso, and it was just so abruptly ludicrous, like she’d walked straight onto the set of a low budget porno. Now though, it sets off fireworks inside of her, and she gasps, clenching her eyes shut, and in a raw voice, whispers, “Inside. Inside, please.”

Crackiest moment (excerpt):

Steve keeps seeing them. Most of the time, they can’t really stop to chat without making Steve seem like a crazy person. He sees them the same way that he saw Billy those first few months—in passing.

He sees them passing the video store at least once a week, jackets bunched up around their shoulders as if they actually need them to ward off the coming chill of autumn. Steve doesn’t know where they’re going, but Eddie never fails to stop and make faces through the window—devil horns, tongue out and wiggling, crossed eyes. Once, he actually moons Steve, pale butt cheeks pressed to the spotless glass, and Steve promptly  inhales his gum and breaks into a coughing fit while old Mrs Conley watches on, unblinking and unamused.

He spends the next ten minutes apologizing profusely as she wipes spittle from her glasses, plying her with free malt balls so she won’t rat on him to Keith, and by the time he’s done, Eddie and Billy are long gone.

.

“Oh hey,” Eddie says, blinking. “Did you see what Billy taught me?”

He gestures, indicating the new outfit and Steve laughs, his eyes coming back again to that wide sliver of belly, the trail of dark hair leading down from his belly button. He blinks, eyes darting back up to Eddie’s.

“I did,” he says. “It’s some outfit. That usually what you wear to the pool?”

Eddie snorts. “The pool was never exactly my scene, if you know what I mean. Pretty sure all those soccer moms would see me lit up like the beacons of Gondor and run the other way screaming.”

Next to him, Billy snorts. “Trust me, Munson. There were worse things at the local watering hole than your pasty ass.”

“Yeah, uh huh,” Eddie says agreeably, nodding along. “Sure there were.”

Billy rolls his eyes, giving Eddie a look, eyes narrowed. “Quit fishing for compliments. Just count your fucking blessings that you’re not Keith.”

Eddie sucks in a breath through his teeth, making a face. “Did he wear a lot of sunscreen? I’ll bet he wore a lot of sunscreen.”

“Hey,” Steve protests. “There is nothing wrong with sunscreen. It's good for you. I’ll bet that you’d burn like a peach without it.”

“Yeah, but Keith wouldn’t rub it in, would he? Guarantee you he was up there looking like Casper.” He frowns, looking suddenly concerned. “Actually, hey. Billy. Do ghosts burn?”

Billy groans, pulling his sunglasses back up onto his nose. “I really couldn’t tell you. I never have, but I didn’t burn when I was alive, so not sure that tells you much.”

“Hm,” Eddie murmurs, frowning like he’s trying to work out a puzzle. “Guess that’ll be an experiment for another time. Ghost physics are bullshit.”

The sun is starting to droop in the sky, the horizon turning red and gold, slivers of violet streaking through it. Steve watches the sun set with sleepy eyes, listening with half an ear as Eddie and Billy bicker in the background. The distant scream of cicadas mixes with the hum of the AC unit, and already, there are fireflies emerging from their slumber, lighting up the backyard around them.

Steve is so fucking tired. He just wants to sleep.

.

In the end, Billy is the one who talks him into it. He’s sitting on a pool lounger, his feet dangling over one of those god awful cracks that run all through town like he’s determined to soak in some hellfire, when he turns to Steve, sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, and says, “I think you should resurrect Munson.”

Steve blinks back at him. “What?”

Billy shrugs, busying himself with plucking his lemonade off the cement. The glass is sweating. He spends a long time slurping loudly through the straw, looking up at Steve through his eyelashes, before he pulls away with a smack of his lips and elaborates.

“Resurrection is your specialty, baby,” he says, nudging the glasses down his nose so he can hold Steve’s gaze over them, eyes burning blue. “I think you should add another dead girl to your collection.”

And then he smiles winningly, his teeth white and shiny, and winks.

Favorite dialogue (excerpt):

“You know that he wants you, right?” Xue Yang asks, his voice hot in Song Lan’s ear. He gives Song Lan another slow stroke, kissing the space behind his ear when Song Lan groans. “He does. He wants you so badly. This whole time, I thought that the only reason you weren’t fucking was because you had company, but to find out that you’ve never even—?”

He breaks off with a groan, stroking Song Lan harder, faster.

“Let’s see if he joins us,” Xue Yang hisses, pressing another open-mouthed kiss to the column of Song Lan’s throat. “I think he will.”

“He won’t—” Song Lan starts to say, reeling, dizzy with it, and Xue Yang laughs again, biting this time.

“He will,” Xue Yang breathes. “Won’t you, Xingchen?”

Song Lan inhales sharply when the bed dips, and he gives a hard shudder, bucking into Xue Yang’s grip, unable to help himself. From behind him, he hears Xiao Xingchen make a small noise, something soft and greedy all at once, and suddenly, Song Lan needs to see—

He turns, shoving Xue Yang’s hand away long enough to roll onto his other side.

There’s a smug smirk on Xue Yang’s face, his hair mussed from sleep, pillow creases across one side of his face. He’s visibly hard in his boxers, sheets pushed down to his thighs. And behind him, Xiao Xingchen is perched on the edge of the bed, his eyes bright, interested. He’s damp from the shower, hair curling in damp tendrils over his clavicles, and his pink lips are parted—on a word? A name?

Xue Yang laughs again, rolling onto his back to peer up at Xiao Xingchen, amusement on his face as he raises the hand that was just on Song Lan’s dick towards Xiao Xingchen.

“Want a taste?” Xue Yang asks with a wicked smile, and Song Lan flushes when he realizes that there’s a streak of pre-come on Xue Yang’s hand, smeared along the sharp curve of his wrist, the bend of his thumb.

Xiao Xingchen’s eyes are boring into him, dark and intense, and Song Lan swallows as Xiao Xingchen leans forward and wordlessly seals his mouth around Xue Yang’s wrist.

Song Lan watches, enraptured, as Xiao Xingchen sucks it from Xue Yang’s skin, moving on to suck Xue Yang’s thumb into his mouth when it’s gone from his wrist.

When he pulls back, his lips are red, wet. He turns his head, giving Xue Yang an indulgent smile, and murmurs, “Good boy.”

Xue Yang whimpers, his whole body shivering. As Song Lan watches, he reaches down and palms himself hard, lower lip tucked between his teeth.

“Did you just almost—” Song Lan starts to ask, eyes wide, cutting himself off with a click of his throat when Xue Yang opens his eyes and sends him a poisonous glare.

“Shut up, Zichen,” he hisses, flushing. “We all have hair-triggers.”

.

“Hey there, sleeping beauty,” Eddie murmurs gently, going down to a crouch. Like this, their noses are almost level. Steve can see Billy lurking behind Eddie, looking… something. Confused? Angry? Steve blinks, slow-like, and tips his head until Eddie’s back in his line of vision. Eddie smiles at him. “We lost you there for a bit. You ready for bed?”

Steve smacks his lips, still muzzy, and nods.

Eddie’s grin widens, eyes going inexplicably soft. He turns and calls over his shoulder, “Hey, Hargrove. Help me get his royal highness up to bed, yeah?”

Billy pulls a face, but shockingly does as he’s told with only minor complaint, padding over and getting an arm around Steve’s shoulders.

It’s only as they’re pouring him into bed that Steve thinks to wonder why they can touch him. Eddie is stooped, trying to wrangle the sheets out from under Steve, and Billy is lingering back again now that Steve’s out of his hands, the glow from the hallway haloing him in buttery orange light.

Steve licks his lips, catching Eddie’s wrist as he finally works the sheet out from under him.

Eddie goes still, eyes darting to Steve. They’re wide. Dark. Wet. Pretty eyes. Steve kind of wishes that he’d realized that when Eddie was still alive.

“Hey,” Steve asks, frowning. “Why can you touch me?”

Eddie blinks, his eyes going helplessly to Billy over his shoulder. Billy gives him a jerky little shrug. “I can’t be your afterlife handbook here, Munson. I’ve got no clue.”

Eddie looks back at Steve, his eyes still soft, but there’s something else there now, shifting in their depths. Something thoughtful. Even curious.

“Guess you’re just our little grounding rod, Stevie-boy,” Eddie laughs, ruffling Steve’s hair. When Steve whines at him, he laughs harder.

“Get some sleep, Harrington,” Billy says gruffly from behind him, eyes a gleam of blue in the dark. “Don’t work yourself to death.”

.

Billy grins at him. “Hit me.”

Steve blinks again, harder this time, like that’ll change what the fuck Billy had said. He shakes his head a little, frowning, and says, again, “Wait, what?”

“Okay, fine,” Billy sighs, winding up. “I’ll go first.”

Billy’s always thrown a beautiful punch. He spent his formative years perfecting it after some city-spun leech ripped his throat out in a back alley three blocks from his house. The leech hadn’t expected him to wake up afterwards, and was long gone by the time he had. Billy had coped. He’d learned to protect himself. Learned to be the bigger predator.

So, the punch that he throws at Steve lands perfectly, just under the jaw. Billy watches, damn near giddy, as Steve’s head snaps back, his skull striking the bark behind him hard enough that it cracks, denting inwards in a perfect impression of Steve’s pretty little head.

The punch probably would have taken a normal human’s head clean off, but Steve recovers quickly, jerking his head free of the bark and turning a furious snarl on Billy, his teeth sharp and ready.

“What the hell was that?” he yells, hands clenched into fists at his side.

Billy laughs in his face.

“That was fun,” he says, and hits him again.

This time, Steve gets smart, jerking his head away just in time so that his cheek only takes part of the blow, momentum carrying Billy’s fist forward into the tree instead.

“Are you crazy?” he yells, dodging out of the way when Billy lunges for him again.

“Maybe,” Billy tells him with a sharp cackle, his grin fierce, blood hot. “Want to find out? Come on, Steve. Hit me!”

Steve stops dodging and his face twists, determination and frustration all converging, and he puts his fist up and—

It’s a terrible fucking punch.

Billy snorts, thumbing the blood from his lip.

“That all you got?” he asks, bloody teeth bared, and Steve snarls—

It’s a good fight. Billy’s always liked good fights, ones that he can control, ones that are in his power. He hasn’t been able to cut loose like this since he was turned—a fight like this with a human would be too risky, too easy to kill them on accident. But with Steve? Steve can take his punches. And judging by the manic little grin on Steve’s face, like something deeply primal being sated for the first time in his entire pathetic life, Steve wants to take his punches.

Billy doesn’t know how long they’re at it, but he knows when it ends, his breath going out of him all at once as Steve lets out a furious roar, charging him and getting his arms wrapped around Billy’s waist, bearing him down to the forest floor.

Billy stares up at Steve, suspended above him. He’s heaving for breath that he doesn’t need, sweat on his brow, face flushed red enough that Billy wonders how well he must be eating, with enough blood leftover to flood his cheeks like that—fuck—Billy wants to bite them.

There’s pine needles in his hair, the prickle of them biting through his jacket, and Steve’s body is pressed in tight against his, between his splayed thighs. They’re both hard—Billy can see the moment that Steve realizes that, his cheeks going even redder, his eyes abruptly darkening as he licks his bitten-red lips.

“Yeah, okay,” Billy tells him, arching up against him and gasping open-mouthed when Steve gives a hitching little thrust back. “We can do it this way too.”

“Fuck,” Steve says.

Billy laughs, getting a hold of the back of Steve’s neck and bringing him down. He bites at his mouth, relishing in the little hitch of Steve’s breath, and tells him, voice cocky, “That is the idea.”

Favorite lines (excerpt):

“Billy?” he asks, sounding confused, but not shocked. “What are you doing?”

Oh, Billy thinks, as Steve’s hand closes around his wrist, his eyes concerned. I’m still dying.

“Billy?” he asks again, stepping out of the shower towards Billy, bare-assed and still dripping, hair still thick with lather. “What’s wrong?”

Billy swallows.

Steve Harrington, here, in California.

Steve Harrington, here, in this particular motel. Billy’s shitty little safe haven. He’d split a hastily rolled joint with a hooker in this exact room the morning after he first fucked a boy. She had carefully concealed bruises all up and down her arms and one under her chin to match, but she’d been nice. She hadn’t judged him for crying a little when he’d woken up alone.

And Steve is here, with Billy.

Tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He has a hazy image of Max above him, crying. Blood in his throat, bubbling up and out.

It had hurt, when they tore chunks out of him.

He sniffs.

“Nothing, baby,” he says with a tremulous smile.

When Steve still looks concerned, Billy rolls his eyes, peeling out of his clothes and maneuvering Steve carefully back under the spray. He steps in after him, pretending not to notice the way that the water pooling on the tiles under him runs red.

“It’s okay,” he says, leaning in to seal his mouth over Steve’s pulse point. He closes his eyes, wrapping his arms around Steve’s narrow waist. In response, Steve makes a quiet noise of appreciation, arching into Billy’s touch.

This is, Billy figures, a small comfort.

One last gift before the end.

He doesn’t know if he should say thank you or scream obscenities until the end comes.

Steve makes his mind up for him when he lets out a soft noise, something quiet and almost wounded. What Billy wouldn’t have given to take him here himself. He’d probably be a judgy little bitch about it, making faces at the hookers and the bullet holes, but maybe he’d understand too.

To see Steve in Billy’s home, sun and sand and everything else, it’s enough.

.

Draco finds Potter at the widest point of the river, huddled in the hollow of an old oak tree. He’s up to his knees in water, visibly shivering from ward fever, and looks like, at best, death warmed over. As he gets nearer, Draco can begin to make out other key details. Potter’s glasses are broken, for one, the right lens cracked right down the middle, a spiderweb of smaller cracks branching off in all directions. He’s paler than parchment paper, his skin grey-tinged and clammy, and there’s blood leaking from several orifices.

At least he doesn’t seem to be splinched, Draco thinks, his chest giving a twinge as he settles down next to him.

Potter looks up at him, lashes fluttering against his cheeks. He looks like he’s barely standing.

“I would have thought that I would have read about it in the Prophet if the Chosen One had gone missing,” Draco remarks mildly, carefully setting a bracing hand on Potter’s shoulder. Even through his robes, Draco can tell that he’s burning up. “Guess I must have thought wrong.”

Potter shivers again, tilting his whole body into Draco’s touch. Alarmed, Draco makes a grab for the other shoulder.

Potter attempts a smile, his teeth red with blood. It’s not a very good smile. More of a grimace, really, made all the more horrifying by the blood. Then he opens his mouth and says, his voice slurred, “Hi, Draco.”

“Oh,” Draco says, catching Potter as his knees go out from under him. “Fuck.”

Potter blinks at him, his mouth a smear of red, and says. “Sorry. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“So you came here?” Draco hisses out waspishly, bundling Potter onto his broom. The broom, unsurprisingly, is not proving very cooperative considering the last time Potter was on it, he’d nearly flown it into a tree. Draco swings a leg over the broom behind him and kicks off the ground, trailing icy droplets behind him. “Why?”

Potter shrugs, his teeth chattering, and nestles closer. “Felt safe.”

Draco swallows hard around the knot suddenly in his throat, and for a moment - just a moment - lets himself close his eyes. He breathes in and out slowly for a while, aware of the wind on his face, the damp in his shoes, the weight of the body in his arms.

Safe, Draco thinks. Now that’s a laugh.

“Well,” Draco says in a voice much too wobbly to be sneering, “That was stupid of you.”

“Mm,” Potter murmurs, already half gone. “Maybe.”

The thing about Potter, Draco thinks later, once Potter is safely deposited into Draco’s bed and has had several potions forcefully poured down his throat, is that he’s too good.

Too trusting.

He’s a right twat about some things, sure. He’s got a horrible taste in Quidditch teams, and beer and, in Draco’s opinion, women. He’s got a surprising mean streak under that savior complex, and is actually funny in a dry, unintentional sort of way. The first time that he’d cracked a joke that made Draco laugh, he’d been up all night overthinking it for a week straight, because - was Potter always funny? Or was his humor like an infection? Did it creep up on you slowly? Or was it just there all along?

Draco didn’t know. He didn’t know a lot about Potter, as it turned out, until… he did.

It started at New Year’s. There was a gala. People, reporters, fireworks.

There was also, unfortunately, firewhiskey.

He remembers only snapshots of the night. Finding Potter lurking in the shadows of the fourth floor was one of them. Licking the sweat from his neck later that evening was another. They’d woken up in what Draco later came to realize was Potter’s flat, their legs tangled together in the sheets.

Never again, they’d vowed, green with nausea as they took turns chucking up acid in the loo.

What a cliché, Draco had thought, safely ensconced in the manor later that day. Best now that it was out of his system.

And then… it happened again.

And again.

And somehow, it just kept right on happening, growing like that river. A trickle to a stream, a stream to a brook, a brook to… whatever was spilling over the banks now.

Fic goals:

Write something - anything - at least once a month. The shortest one-shot or the longest novel. January doesn’t count.

[newstfionline]

Sunday, January 14, 2024

Drought Touches a Quarter of Humanity, U.N. Says, Disrupting Lives Globally (NYT) Pandemic. War. Now drought. Olive groves have shriveled in Tunisia. The Brazilian Amazon faces its driest season in a century. Wheat fields have been decimated in Syria and Iraq, pushing millions more into hunger after years of conflict. The Panama Canal, a vital trade artery, doesn’t have enough water, which means fewer ships can pass through. And the fear of drought has prompted India, the world’s biggest rice exporter, to restrict the export of most rice varieties. The United Nations estimates that 1.84 billion people worldwide, or nearly a quarter of humanity, were living under drought in 2022 and 2023, the vast majority in low- and middle-income countries. “Droughts operate in silence, often going unnoticed and failing to provoke an immediate public and political response,” wrote Ibrahim Thiaw, head of the United Nations agency that issued the estimates late last year, in his foreword to the report.

US pastors struggle with post-pandemic burnout (AP) Post-pandemic burnout is at worrying levels among Christian clergy in the U.S., prompting many to think about abandoning their jobs, according to a new nationwide survey. More than 4 in 10 of clergy surveyed in fall 2023 had seriously considered leaving their congregations at least once since 2020, when the COVID-19 pandemic began, and more than half had thought seriously of leaving the ministry, according to the survey released Thursday by the Hartford Institute for Religion Research. About a tenth of clergy report having had these thoughts often, according to the survey, conducted as part of the institute’s research project, Exploring the Pandemic Impact on Congregations. The high rates of ministers considering quitting reflects the “collective trauma” that both clergy and congregants have experienced since 2020, said institute director Scott Thumma, principal investigator for the project.

Winter weather (AP) cy winter weather blanketed the U.S. on Saturday as a wave of Arctic storms threatened to break low-temperature records in the heartland, spread cold and snow from coast to coast and cast a chill over everything from football playoffs to presidential campaigns. As the three-day Martin Luther King Jr. Day holiday weekend began, the weather forecast was a crazy quilt of color-coded advisories, from an ice storm warning in Oregon to a blizzard warning in the northern Plains to high wind warnings in New Mexico. Governors from New York to Louisiana warned residents to be prepared for worrisome weather. Parts of Montana fell below minus 30 degrees Fahrenheit (minus 34 degrees Celsius) Saturday morning, and the National Weather Service said similar temperatures were expected as far as northern Kansas, with minus 50 F (minus 46 C) possible in the Dakotas. In other places, if the problem wasn’t snow and wind, it was water: Record high tides hit the Northeast, flooding some homes in Maine and New Hampshire.

Guatemalans hope for a peaceful transition of power with Bernardo Arévalo’s upcoming inauguration (AP) Guatemalan President-elect Bernardo Arévalo’s imminent inauguration and the unrelenting pursuit of him and his party by the attorney general are recurring topics over dinner tables in this country, reflecting a political awakening in a population weary of corruption and impunity. Despite Arévalo’s wide margin of victory in elections certified by Guatemalan authorities and declared fair by international observers, he has been a target of prosecutors since his surprise second-place showing in June’s first round of voting. His anti-corruption stance and outsider status are threats to deep-rooted interests in the Central American country, observers say. That Arévalo has made it to within a day of his inauguration is largely owed to thousands of Guatemala’s Indigenous peoples who took to the streets last year to protest and demand that Attorney General Consuelo Porras and her prosecutors respect the Aug. 20 vote.

In Ecuador, the global reach of Mexico’s warring drug cartels fuels a national crisis (AP) Mexico’s two main drug cartels have long taken their deadly rivalry with them as they expand into distant markets from Asia to Australia to Africa, but never before with such intensive street gang violence and a presidential declaration of a state of “internal armed conflict” this week in Ecuador. Why are Mexican cartels in Ecuador? It’s the location. And the bananas. Ecuador is attractive as a shipping point for drugs because the South American country is sandwiched between two top cocaine producers, Colombia and Peru. Ecuador has been ravished by poverty, the COVID-19 pandemic, a weak law enforcement system and corruption, but it also has a big active, legitimate foreign trade. Ships sail to ports in the U.S. and Europe with huge containers of bananas—Ecuador is the world’s top exporter—and those are good places to hide cocaine. In a few short years, experts say, the experience and muscle of the Mexican cartels has turned Ecuador into the shipment point for almost one-third of the cocaine entering Europe.

Lost Cities Revealed (BBC) Archaeologists have discovered a constellation of ancient Amazonian structures in what is now modern-day Ecuador, according to new research published yesterday. Flourishing for roughly 1,000 years about two millennia ago, the settlements are believed to have been populated by 30,000 residents at their peak—roughly equal to London under the Roman Empire at the same time. The complex was discovered using LiDAR (light detection and ranging), a technique in which variations in surface height are measured using airborne laser mapping. The approach allows researchers to penetrate dense forest canopies or layers of Earth, revealing what lies underneath without labor-intensive fieldwork and digs.

UK economy at risk of recession despite November growth (Reuters) Britain’s economy grew slightly more strongly than expected in November but remains at risk of slipping into a mild recession, a potential blow for Prime Minister Rishi Sunak before an election expected in 2024. Britain’s economy struggled to gain momentum in 2023, as households were squeezed by rapid inflation and the highest BoE interest rates in 15 years. Much of Europe’s economy is weak too, due partly to the after-effects of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022. Germany’s economy shrank in the third quarter, and data on Tuesday showing an unexpectedly big drop in industrial output in November raised recession fears in Europe’s largest economy.

Taiwan voters choose their next president (AP) Ruling-party candidate Lai Ching-te emerged victorious in Taiwan’s presidential election on Saturday and his opponents conceded, a result that will determine the trajectory of the self-ruled democracy’s relations with China over the next four years. China had called the poll a choice between war and peace. Beijing strongly opposes Lai, the current vice president who abandoned his medical career to pursue politics from the grassroots to the presidency. While domestic issues such as the sluggish economy and expensive housing also featured prominently in the campaign, Lai's Democratic Progressive Party's appeal to self-determination, social justice and rejection of China's threats ultimately won out. It is the first time a single party has led Taiwan for three consecutive four-year presidential terms since the first open presidential elections in 1996.

Looming Starvation in Gaza Shows Resurgence of Civilian Sieges in Warfare (NYT) The number of people facing possible starvation in the Gaza Strip in the coming weeks is the largest share of a population at risk of famine identified anywhere since a United Nations-affiliated panel created the current global food-insecurity assessment 20 years ago. After Hamas’s surprise attack on Israel on Oct. 7, Israel responded with air and ground assaults and a sealing of the territory, which have left the 2.2 million people who live there deprived of sufficient food, water and supplies. The U.N. has concluded that without significant intervention, Gaza could reach the level of famine as soon as early February. Scholars of famine say it has been generations since the world has seen this degree of food deprivation in warfare. “The rigor, scale and speed of the destruction of the structures necessary for survival, and enforcement of the siege, surpasses any other case of man-made famine in the last 75 years,” said Alex de Waal, an expert on humanitarian crises and international law at Tufts University. Mass death from starvation declined steadily from the 1980s well into the 21st century. But over the past seven years, food crises associated with conflict (such as those in Yemen, Syria and the Tigray region of Ethiopia) and those stemming from environmental conditions and climate change (such as in Somalia) have resulted in the loss of more than a million lives.

Netanyahu says Israel will cut Gaza off from Egypt, taking control of Palestinian enclave’s remaining border (CNN) The border between Egypt and Gaza “must” be closed, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu said Saturday—a move that would give Israel complete control over the Palestinian enclave’s access to the world. During a press briefing, Netanyahu said that Israel would not consider the war finished until it closes the Philadelphi Corridor, a 14km strip of land that serves as a buffer zone on the border between Egypt and Gaza. Egypt has previously warned Israel against military operations in the corridor, according to Egypt’s Ahram Online. The state-run news outlet, citing an unnamed source, reported in October that any Israeli incursion into the Philadelphi Corridor would be seen as a violation of the Egypt-Israel peace treaty of 1979.

U.S. Strikes Against Houthis in Yemen for Second Day, as Conflict Escalates (NYT) The United States carried out another strike against the Houthi militia in Yemen, the U.S. Central Command said on Friday night, bombing a radar facility as part of an effort to further degrade the Iran-backed group’s ability to attack ships transiting the Red Sea. It was the second straight day that the U.S. military fired on a Houthi target, after an American-led barrage of military strikes early Friday local time that was aimed at securing critical shipping routes between Europe and Asia. The strikes come amid fears of a wider escalation of the conflict in the Middle East.

Nigerian group provides hundreds of prosthetic limbs to amputee children thanks to crowdfunding (AP) The accident that broke 10-year-old Princess Igbinosa’s right leg could have crushed her dreams of becoming a model in a country where not many can afford prosthetics to cope with life and fight social stigma. “It was heartbreaking when they told us they had to amputate it (the leg),” her mother, Esther Igbinosa, said of Princess’s experience in 2020. “During the first few months of her amputation … I just wake up and start crying. I was like, how is she going to cope with life with an amputated leg?” But Princess can now walk and her dreams are alive again, thanks to an artificial leg that matches the tone of her skin. The prosthesis came from the IREDE Foundation, a Nigerian group that provides children like her with free artificial limbs that normally cost $2,000 to $3,000. Founded in 2012 in Nigeria’s economic hub of Lagos, IREDE has provided more than 500 artificial limbs at no cost in addition to psychosocial support to children like Princess, said its executive director, Crystal Chigbu. She said the group gets up to 70% of its funding from crowdsourcing.

[gratefulnuts]

The Oregon King Tides are coming to a close. Get out there and see the highest tides of the year!

The Oregon King Tides Project aims to draw attention to, educate about, and document the changing effects that extreme tide events have on our shores and our infrastructures on those shores. King Tides are expected along the Oregon Coast through January 11-13 and February 8-10. See their website for a tide map to plan your outings! https://www.oregonkingtides.net

[newscinema]

The 'king of tides' is coming: US west coast braces for intense flooding this weekend

From San Diego up to Seattle, people are building barriers of sandbags along the coast in fear of the ‘king of tides’ set to flood the western shores. The phenomenon is predicted to increase water levels by more than seven feet in low-lying areas of California and 10 feet in parts of Oregon during the peak before noon. While these events are typical in the winter, this one follows recent rain…