#Pivot to Asia

[fuckyeahmarxismleninism]

By Vijay Prashad

During Balikatan, the defense ministers of the four main nations met in Honolulu, Hawaii to discuss the political implications of these military exercises off the coast of China. Australia’s Richard Marles, Japan’s Kihara Minoru, the Philippines’ Gilberto Teodoro, and the United States’ Lloyd Austin met for their second meeting to discuss their collaboration in the region that they call the Indo-Pacific. It was at the edges of this meeting that the public relations teams of these ministers began to float the term “Squad” to refer to these four countries. While they did not formally announce the creation of a new bloc in East Asia, this new nickname intends to provide a de facto announcement of its existence.

[thegenderfluidgokenin]

All-purpose animation dump from my old pivot days to now!

With so much more to come..

[crvvys]

this Trump cabinet formation is so fascinating to me.

[xtruss]

Jackson Hinkle: Western Elites Want War Against Russia, China

The US Establishment is Not Hesitant to Start World War III to Maintain its Globalist Dominance, American Political Commentator Jackson Hinkle told Sputnik's New Rules Podcast.

— Sputnik International | September 23, 2023

B-52H Stratofortresses from the 2nd Bomb Wing line up on the runway at Barksdale Air Force Base, Louisiana., October 14, 2020. The B-52 is a long-range, heavy bomber that can perform a variety of missions and has been the backbone of U.S. strategic bomber forces for more than 60 years. - Sputnik International. © Senior Airman Tessa Corrick

"I guess Tucker [Carlson] has got a point when he says, 'I'm willing to bet my house that Joe Biden is going to start World War Three with Russia,' because look what they've done," Jackson Hinkle told Sputnik. "These people are insane. Even like, taking [ex-House Speaker Nancy] Pelosi on her jet to go to Taiwan and meet with Taiwanese officials. There was a lot of people, myself included, who were thinking, 'Goodness, the [Chinese] People's Liberation Army (PLA) is going to shoot her out of the sky or something right now? Is this going to be how it all begins?' They're reckless. They are completely Russophobic and beating the drums of war to go to war with China."

Moreover, the American elite's hostility toward Russia has surpassed that of the Cold War era, leading to a worrying breakdown in communications between Washington and Moscow, according to the political commentator.

"The level of communication breakdown is so severe compared to the Cold War," he said. "I got to meet the guy that actually developed the telephone, they had the red hotline telephone between the US and the USSR during the Cold War. And he told me he’s like, 'there's nothing like that right now in the White House. There's no communication whatsoever.' And we're not too far off from that same sort of a lack of dialogue with the Chinese, because they want to go to war against the Chinese."

It did not happen overnight, according to the analyst. Over the past 30 years, Washington and its allies have reneged on all the pledges they made to Moscow at the end of the Cold War. One of them was a verbal promise that NATO would not extend an inch east of Germany. "NATO since then, at the behest of the US, has violated that promise on 16 occasions now," Hinkle remarked. The transatlantic alliance does not conceal its plans to draw in Ukraine and possibly Georgia, thus moving even closer to Russia's borders.

Jackson Hinkle. “These people are insane. Even like taking Pelosi on her jet to go to Taiwan and meet with Taiwanese officials. There was a lot of people, myself included, who were thinking, "goodness, PLA is going to shoot her out of the sky or something right now? Is this going to be how it all begins?" They're reckless. They are completely Russophobic and beating the drums of war to go to war with China,” Jackson Hinkle, host of The Dive, told Sputnik.

US Elites Seek to Dismantle Economic Alternative Offered by Russia & China

The emergence of a multipolar world order - with Russia and China at the forefront of the movement - is challenging the globalist Great Reset aimed at prolonging centuries of Western colonial hegemony, according to Hinkle.

"[The multipolar world] poses a serious threat to the West's effort to secure the Eurasian heartland, which that's been like the basis of US foreign policy for so long, is to have control over the people and the resources in the Eurasian heartland, which of course encompasses Russia," Hinkle said. "And now that Russia and China and these other countries more and more and more are working together to form BRICS and develop a new currency that's going to challenge the dollar, I would be worried if I was the United States and I was also refusing to do business with them. We could just do business with them and we'd all win, but they're not going to do that."

At the recent BRICS summit, held in Johannesburg, South Africa, in August, the group's participants condemned the West's unfair trade practices and unilateral sanctions and discussed the increased use of national currencies and domestic financial mechanisms instead of the US dollar. The Global South leans toward Russia and China, whose economies have proven remarkably resilient despite Western predictions of imminent collapse. Moreover, in terms of purchasing power parity (PPP), China has overtaken the US as the world's largest economy. Russia, for its part, overtook Europe's three largest economies - France, the UK and Germany - in PPP terms in 2022.

"The State Department and Wall Street are very concerned," the US political analyst said. "I think the State Department currently, as it presents itself, is just a tool of Wall Street, because what is Wall Street? Wall Street is just this Byzantine labyrinth of predatory economic schemes. It's rent, it's interests. It's speculation on stocks. All of this is just BS. It's nothing. And at the end of the day, when you compare that sort of an economy to what China and Russia represent, which is real production that's aimed at uplifting the public good, China's lifted 840 million people out of poverty over the last 40 years through developing oil, gas, coal, doing land reform, silver, gold, all these things and more, agricultural goods. Yeah, that is a challenge to the West, and it's a substantive one because the West doesn't produce anything anymore. We outsourced all our manufacturing. So what is left? Nothing, really. And that can crumble very easily if there's a real challenge." — Jackson Hinkle, American Political Commentator

Russia and China Aren't Enemies of US People

It's not Russia and China that pose a real threat to Americans, Hinkle emphasized, but those who hoard all U.S. resources and act contrary to U.S. national interests.

"We have this rich group of people in America that are hoarding all of our resources. Some of these large investment firms like BlackRock and Vanguard. (…) BlackRock, they're making money off of all this real estate. Bill Gates is as well. Why is it that they get to buy up all the real estate, but 60,000 American veterans have to sleep out on the streets every night? That's supposed to be acceptable, and we're not supposed to question that?" Hinkle asked.

“Average Americans are being put in prison because they can't pay their taxes, because we're sending $250 billion to Ukraine, and hundreds of millions to Taiwan. Anyone who thinks that Russia or China is our enemy is sorely mistaken. Our enemy is Wall Street, World Economic Forum, the DC Beltway region and the city of London,” Jackson Hinkle, host of the Dive, told the New Rules podcast, commenting on the real enemies of the American people.

"There is no reason for them to be running free on yachts and traveling back and forth to Lake Como, to the Hamptons and wherever when average Americans are being put in prison because they can't pay their taxes, because we're sending $250 billion to Ukraine, and hundreds of millions to Taiwan. The people that are our enemies are really this globalist class of finance capital that are sucking out every last bit of breath from the American public in the working class. For anyone who thinks that Russia or China or whoever is our enemy, they're sorely mistaken. Your enemy is Wall Street, World Economic Forum, the DC Beltway region and the City of London," the political commentator continued.

The neocons in the Biden administration, Wall Street and the U.S. military-industrial complex have already profited from Washington's proxy war in Ukraine and are salivating at the opportunity to profit even more from the US conflict with China. However, these overseas conflicts have nothing to do with core US interests. What's worse, these proxy wars would most certainly backfire, according to the analyst.

"I think a lot of people have their eyes set on China and a war with China, and I think that's what they really want. And I think that [they’re also eyeing] a war with Russia. I pray that there's no World War Three with Russia. That's how it starts," Hinkle concluded.

[simplygojo]

Friend-Of-A-Friend ⸺ Chapter Nine

author's note ⸺ HEY Y'ALL I LIED LAST WEEK SORRYYYY!! Here is chapter nine...Sorry for the delayyy I am planning a trip to ASia for a wedding <3 LOVE U PLS GUYS LMK UR THOUGHTS ON THIS I LOVE THE DRAMAAA pairing ⸺ Suguru Geto x Reader content ⸺ corporate-worker!reader, emotional tension, modern au, the good-ole-days trope, reader uses female pronouns, smoking mentioned(weed + cigs), themes of substance abuse, taglist at end, 4k, this is an 18+ series - mdni

divider credit: @/toastray ୨୧ art credit: @/juziluohai

previous chapter ୨୧ series masterlist ୨୧ next chapter

**Monday, 10:03 a.m.**

“… and if we can get those decks consolidated by end-of-day, we’ll be in a good place for the client check-in on Wednesday.”

Click. Click. Click.

The sound of a mouse somewhere near your left ear. 

A bulky early-2000s style keyboard clacking distantly to your right. 

The gentle, yet oh so persistent hum of the conference room's overhead light—just enough to give you a headache without actually qualifying as a noise complaint.

You blinked slowly at the screen in front of you. A slideshow you did not make. Fonts you did not choose. Bullet points someone definitely wrote with way too much enthusiasm for phrases like "brand narrative integrity" and "consumer-forward visibility."

The meeting had technically started four minutes ago, but the pace of it had already gone syrup-slow. Everyone pretending to care about the quarterly roadmap. Everyone nodding a little too earnestly.

Your eyes darted to the bottom of your screen.

Slide 3 of 37.

Ughhh.

“…thinking we could pivot to something more user-centric. Thoughts?”

You weren’t sure who had said that or what it was in reference to. You watched the mouse cursor drift lazily across the shared screen, circling a graph that didn’t matter. Your eyes glazed over.

Your camera was off, thank god. You were slumped half-sideways in your chair, the lopsided croissant you’d eaten on the train still threatening mutiny somewhere in your chest. 

The coffee in your paper to-go cup had already gone tepid. You took a sip anyway, taking into consideration how exhausted you felt—Regretted it immediately.

“…if we could circle back on the Q2 assets sometime this week—maybe a quick sync before close of business Thursday?”

A brief silence. Then a chorus of agreeable hums. Someone said, “Yeah, totally.” Another voice chirped, “Sounds good.”

You felt a laugh bubble somewhere behind your ribs—not real amusement, just a small, spiralling hysteria at the sheer cliché of it all.

You closed your eyes for one half-second too long.

And there it was—uninvited but not unwelcome.

The memory arrived all at once.

The door. The rain. Him.

He had just stood there for a second—on the other side of your doorway. Rain still clinging to his coat, hair down and heavy with water, dark strands stuck to the curve of his cheek.

The hallway behind him had been cold and dim. But the light from your apartment had spilled forward into it, warm and low, and when it hit him like that—

God—That image of him felt like it was plastered onto your retinas.

The rain had soaked through everything, clinging to him in a way that felt indecent. 

The more you thought about it, the more you’d come to a simple conclusion—he’d looked good like that. Rain-damp and quiet, his voice a soft hey that had settled low in your stomach and stayed there.

You hadn’t expected to notice it. The flush on his face, the way he’d touched the back of his neck, the slow drag of the towel through his hair.

Coat open. Hair heavy and wet, that slow way he blinked, like the light took a second too long to register. Water dripping from his collarbone to the fabric below.

Back in the walls of your cubicle, someone said, “Can we flag that for the legal branch before sending up? Just to be safe on any future liability issues.”

A few murmured yeahs followed—some yellow ‘thumbs-up’ emojis flew around the screen, you decided to send a thumbs up too, what the hell, why not.

You reached for your coffee again. This time, pinching your nose with one hand and taking it like a shot to avoid tasting how awful it was.

Thank god weed doesn’t give you hangovers, or you’d be absolutely screwed.

Still, there was something off about your composure this morning. Not tired, not hungover. 

You had made a promise to yourself, after everything that went down in school, that you would stop smoking—initially, you meant mostly the weed, you just decided you may as well throw the cigs in there too, start a new ‘era’. 

Well…you ended that era last night. 

By the time he had even lit it, you’d already committed to the lie. No turning back.

Your thumb brushed his knuckles as you took it from him, smoke curling into the dark—and behind your eyes, that slow, familiar warmth had already begun to gather.

Not that it mattered now. What’s one night? One shared filter, one familiar haze. An old habit, quietly resurrected under city light and the kind of silence you didn’t want to break.

You shifted slightly in your chair, hoping that shifting your body might shake him loose from your thoughts.

It didn’t.

The air in the office felt stale, over-warmed from too many bodies and not enough ventilation. Somewhere nearby, a coworker was chewing with their mic still on—wet, deliberate bites that made your eye twitch.

Your phone buzzed once on the desk. Then again.

You flipped it over, glancing down just in time to catch:

Gojo: So. Gojo: Suguru’s texted me three times already this morning

Buzz.

Gojo: Direct quote “went over to her’s. smoked. felt like old times.” Absolutely no follow-up. He’s so dramatic

Buzz.

Gojo: Anyway Gojo: We’re smoking again now??

Buzz.

Gojo: Thought you came over to my side?? Gojo: Clean lungs? moral superiority?? Green juice and judgment???

You exhaled slowly through your nose, thumb hovering.

You: It really is not that deep.

Gojo: That’s what they all say before they’re bumming lighters and talking about “missing the ritual” Gojo: Seen it a thousand times You: K. Well I don’t think this is something you need to lose sleep over Gojo…I’m at work attempting to pay attention You: So bye bye!

You swiped downward on your screen and quickly turning on DND mode before you could be bothered by his texting habits. 

The black screen caught your reflection—eyes tired, jaw tight, the faintest trace of a smirk still lingering at the edge of your mouth. You set the phone down. Shifted your focus back to the meeting. 

Well—Tried to.

And—yeah. You did kind of miss the ritual.

୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧

**Monday, 6:07 p.m.**

The subway car was too hot.

Your coat stuck awkwardly to one side of your body, and someone’s elbow was wedged with absolute conviction against your ribs. 

The car jolted. You swayed along with it. 

Someone’s tote bag kept hitting the back of your knee with each sway of the train, and the guy next to you was breathing way too confidently for someone who obviously hadn’t brushed their teeth today.

You did not have it in you to judge. Not today.

The air was thick with collective resignation. Monday exhaustion. The kind that pressed in from all sides, like wet cotton. 

Your forehead itched, but you couldn’t raise your arm to scratch it without elbowing the woman scrolling TikTok behind you. Instead, you shifted your weight, pressed your shoulder harder into the metal pole, and tried not to sigh audibly.

You had been a little bummed today. Nothing tragic—just one of those dumb, tiny disappointments that shouldn’t matter and yet somehow did. 

One of your coworkers had been out sick, which meant no homemade bread on the corner of the office kitchen island. No little Ziploc bags of sourdough or rye to take home, all lovingly baked and evenly sliced. No absurdly good focaccia with salt crystals big enough to break a molar.

You had spent the first half of the day thinking about that bread. And then the second half of the day, realizing it wasn’t coming.

A tragic arc, honestly. A true Shakespearean fall.

The subway lurched again and a collective sway passed through the car like a wave. You closed your eyes, let your head bob with the jolts of the commute. The movement outside blurred into smears of white light, tinny station announcements rising and falling in the distance like some garbled chorus.

Your phone buzzed once in your pocket. Then again.

You didn’t reach for it. You didn’t need to. You already knew.

Gojo had probably sent another unsolicited monologue about lung purity and self-betterment.

You’d let him rot in DND purgatory. At least for now. Till you had the energy for him

Your reflection in the dark subway glass stared back at you—tired, vaguely wilted. Your eyeliner had migrated slightly southward. 

The train hissed and stuttered to a stop. A voice over the PA said something unintelligible. The doors opened, and half the car shifted like a living thing, bodies brushing past each other with silent, city-trained apathy.

You moved with them.

Out onto the platform. Up the stairs. Into the strange blue air of early evening—where everything smelled like oil and wet concrete and someone’s cheap cologne.

It wasn’t until you turned the corner onto your block that you let yourself fish out your phone. A few texts from Gojo, exactly as expected. You ignored them.

And then, below those—

One new message.

Geto: [Spotify link]

Just that. 

A blue hyperlink tucked beneath his name.

The cooler evening air caught the collar of your coat. Wind pressed lightly against one side of your face. Despite the weather finally starting to warm up, that lakefront breeze was persistent.

You kept walking, thumb hovering over the message for a beat too long before tapping.

The app lagged. 

A black screen. The little wheel spinning – evidence of your shitty data plan.

You adjusted your grip on the phone. Slipped it into your palm with more care than necessary. The sound of your shoes echoed faintly off the concrete walls of the narrow side street—quick, metered steps. A soft gust carried the scent of someone’s dinner from a cracked apartment window overhead. 

The playlist loaded slowly. 

Cover image first: that old blurry photo you'd used years ago—some grainy snapshot of a rainy street corner you thought looked poetic in college. And then the title. Still there. Still lowercase, still pretentious. Songs you’d rearranged a dozen times over the years.

It played automatically, the first song of the playlist playing softly in your headphones, the familiar warm, looping guitar, steady drums that you played around your apartment.

Confused, you slowed your pace, causing the man behind you to passively-aggressively walk past you while shaking his head in frustration. 

Before you had any time to think, his name was at the top of your screen.

Underneath it, the second message:

Geto: Thought I recognized last night's playlist…

No emoji. No follow-up. Just that.

Your fingers froze around the phone and you stopped in your tracks. 

A strange pressure gathered behind your ribs as you put two-and-two together.

He actually listened to that playlist?

୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧

**2 Years and 5 Months Ago: Gojo & Geto’s House  1:37 am**

The party had started loud.

Someone had spilled beer on the welcome mat. Someone else had duct-taped glowsticks to the ceiling fan, which you kind of liked.

Gojo was already shirtless in the kitchen for some reason no one had asked about, he always got like this when he and Suguru hosted parties — the little attention seeker.

You liked house parties. 

People handed you drinks with way too much vodka. The couch never cost you ten dollars to sit on. And at 3 a.m., you could order pad thai without judgment. 

Way better than the bars.

It must’ve been after 1 a.m. by the time you ended up on the living room couch—your usual post, worn-in and sagging at the center. 

The room was dim, lit mostly by string lights sagging in the corners. A bassline thudded through the drywall, probably coming from the Bluetooth speaker Gojo kept threatening to take into the shower with him.

Geto sat to your right, one knee drawn up on the cushion. The joint balanced between his fingers glowed faintly, orange and steady. He passed it to you without looking.

Outside the window, the sky had gone ink-black. Inside, someone was playing a drinking game too loudly in the kitchen.

Geto leaned back a little, socked foot nudging the coffee table.

“Is this your music?” He asked, after a long moment.

You nodded, exhaling a refreshing cloud of smoke. “I think Gojo gave me the aux without realizing it.”

“Makes sense,” he said. “Didn’t sound like his usual headache-inducing mix.”

You smiled, tipping ash into a mug that wasn’t technically an ashtray but had seen worse.

Geto shifted slightly, leaned his elbow on the back of the couch. His voice stayed even, and carried a casual tone. “You have a playlist, or do you just shuffle by vibe?”

You let the question settle between you. A warm beat passed, the joint still resting between your fingers.

“I have a few playlists.”

“Mhm.”

Your head turned slightly toward him, eyes narrowing just enough to catch his profile in the dim light. “Why?”

“Send me one,” he said. 

His gaze stayed forward, attention seemingly on nothing. One hand draped loosely across his knee, fingers curled like he couldn’t be bothered to tense them. “I want to listen later.”

You scoffed, sharp and instinctive. “No.”

His brow lifted in quiet surprise at your quick reaction, the corner of his mouth tugging faintly. 

“C’mon. One. Just one.”

You pulled your feet up on the couch cushion, crossed them beneath you, and tucked your cold feet under your knee. “Nope.”

A soft laugh rumbled low in his chest—short, almost self-contained. It barely broke the air between you, but you felt it anyway. The sound of it made the room slightly warmer.

“Seriously?”

“I don’t share those,” you said, pinching the joint between thumb and index, then tipping the ash into the mug beside the couch. The ember flared as you took another hit, your fingers twitching slightly to adjust for heat.

“Says who?”

“Says me.” You paused, voice thinning with something not quite defensiveness. “They’re personal.”

His leg shifted. The knee nearest yours bumped gently into your shin, casual but deliberate. A light contact. 

“Oh, so personal,” he said, feigning gravity. “What, are they all, like, secret love ballads?”

You exhaled, smoke leaving your lips in a slow ribbon. “Hmm, wouldn’t you like to know?” You said, your voice long and shaped by the drag you’d just taken.

His grin broke then, easy and bright. This one cracked his face open fully—teeth and all. A flash of something fond in it. He turned to you properly now, the space between your knees barely there.

“Don’t be greedy,” he murmured, lazy in his seat.

Your eyes stayed forward, locked on the mess of red solo cups littering the floor across the room, but the corner of your lip tugged. “I’m not being greedy.”

He leaned back a little deeper into the couch, spine melting into the threadbare cushions like he belonged there. Which he kind of did. 

His hand draped loose over the backrest, fingers dangling near the top of your shoulder, the distance between them and your skin a live wire. He smelled faintly like weed and clove and something older—familiar.

“Yeah?” He exhaled smoke through his nose, grin tugging wider. “Could’ve fooled me.”

His hand flexed a little behind your shoulder, arm still draped lazily over the couch. The look he gave you was all teeth and warmth, just bordering on cocky.

“C’mon,” he said, voice dipping just under the music—huskier now, scratched faint at the edges like the smoke had caught somewhere in his throat. “You gonna pretend we don’t know each other like that?”

There wasn’t enough air between you. 

Not with the way the couch dipped. Not with the way his voice scratched low from smoke, but still came out smooth.

Your gaze flicked up—just once. Just enough to catch the weight of his eyes on you, heavy and patient. Then dropped again.

You blinked once, slowly.

A flicker of something moved through your chest—tight and inconvenient. You swallowed it down. Turned toward him slightly.

Your lips parted. The joint burned low between your fingers, forgotten for a moment. Your thigh brushed his when you shifted, but he didn’t move. If anything, he angled closer.

You inhaled. Letting the smoke linger in your lungs before speaking. “It’s not about that.”

“No?” His smile was soft now, barely there. “What’s it about?”

Your voice came quieter this time. “It’s just…y’know…you build your music collection throughout your whole entire life. Like, your whole life. It’s not just songs that you like. Each playlist is a collection of memories. Stuff you never intended to share.”

A beat passed. 

The joint burned low between your fingers. You held it out toward him, offering it to him rather than saying anything else, but his eyes weren’t on the joint.

They lingered instead—on the way your leg had started to lean into his, just slightly. The way you hadn’t moved. 

That look of his—half-lidded, lazy, but pinned so squarely on you it felt like a touch. His head tilted faintly to one side, hair falling in front of his cheekbone, and when he grinned this time, it was full—slow and real. A little lopsided. Something that wasn’t a common expression of his.

That grin had no business being on a face so calm.

“Fine.” You said, finally giving in as you tugged your phone from the pocket of your jeans. 

The screen lit your face faintly blue as you thumbed through your music app, already knowing which one you’d send.

He didn’t say anything. Just watched. And that might’ve been the first time you noticed the quiet gravity of his gaze—how present it made him feel, even without words.

A second later, his own phone buzzed in his lap. He glanced down at the notification.

You lifted your eyes, deadpan. “And don’t get all weird about it. It’s like...not even a sliver of my soul. Practically a crumb.”

Geto huffed a laugh, crooked and pleased, thumb still hovering over the screen. “Oh, just a crumb? That’s all I get?”

You nodded confidently, “Mhm, one’s more than enough.”

He grinned, the kind that pulled deliberately at one side of his mouth. “You really know how to make a guy feel special.”

“I do,” you said, exhaling smoke toward the sagging lights. “And I’m not using any of those skills right now.”

He leaned back again, face tilted toward the ceiling like he might laugh, but didn’t. Just smiled—quiet and real and a little tired around the edges.

୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧

**Present Day**

Your thumb hovered above the screen again. Not moving. Just… resting there.

The song played on—its chorus quiet but insistent, winding its way through your earbuds like it knew something you didn’t.

You looked up absently, eyes catching on nothing in particular: a wet glint on the sidewalk, a flickering lamplight across the street, your own faint reflection in the glass window of the laundromat. 

The world felt off-center suddenly, like someone had rotated it a few degrees clockwise while you weren’t looking.

You remembered sharing your playlist with him that one night. You were both so crossed—in your usual spot together on the couch. You protested, but despite all of your best efforts, you sent him the link to one of the playlists.

And then—he’d never said anything. Not really. 

Maybe a polite “thanks,” some comment about the song titles being cryptic. You’d assumed he hadn’t listened. Or if he had, not more than once. Maybe not even all the way through.

But now…

Now you couldn’t stop thinking about him hearing it again. Recognizing it.

Of all the songs you played. Of all the nights.

It had taken you hours to curate that playlist. You'd aimed for something lowkey—comfort music, stuff you knew inside out, the kind of songs that felt like woodgrain and soft light and a warm couch you could sink into.

Not something you expected him to notice. Not something to place so easily. 

And most definitely not something he would remember over two years later.

Suddenly your whole chest felt… out of sync. Too hot, too tight. You started walking again, slower this time, even though you were less than a minute away, you were in no rush.

You hadn’t realized you were still holding the phone until the screen dimmed in your palm. You tapped it back awake. Then stared.

Geto: Thought I recognized last night’s playlist…

There was a part of you—an unhelpful, fluttering part—that wanted to write back:

MY playlist?? How many times have you listened to it? You never even brought it up again after I shared it?????

But you didn’t.

Instead, you slipped your phone back into your coat pocket, let your fingers curl around it. Like that might settle something in you. Like it might slow the strange, quiet tremble that had started under your skin.

The music played on, and you let it.

Same guitar loop. Same steady drums. But your thoughts did not flow with the music as usual, no, they were stuck on Suguru.

After a few moments of overthinking, your feet brought you to your apartment.

The door clicked open beneath your hand, hinges sighing the way they always did. A slow breath passed through your lips as you stepped inside, the soft shuffle of your shoes against the mat filling the silence.

The music still played—muffled now, one earbud still tucked in, the other hanging limp against your collar. A gentle guitar loop unfurled through the wires, slipping into the apartment with you like something remembered.

You didn’t bother turning on the lights. 

The early evening gloom had settled in—soft and blue, the kind that bled into the corners of rooms and made everything feel like it belonged in a dream. Or maybe just the part after waking.

Coat still on, you walked toward the kitchen. No purpose at first—just movement. Just something to do with your limbs. But then your eyes landed on the sink.

Those two damn space animal mugs, sitting exactly where you'd left them the night before byv the sink. 

They weren’t remarkable, not in shape or colour. But they now, for some reason, evoked a different reaction in you.

Your chest gave the faintest ache. Not sharp. Just a weight, settling in beneath the ribs like a familiar guest.

The music threaded on, drums steady. The chords moved in slow circles. You’d chosen this playlist for comfort. But now it felt like carried too much. 

Your fingers moved to the tap, as if that might help.

Warm water, soft foam. The sponge moved on instinct. One mug. Then the other. But your body felt distant from the motion—like it was happening a few steps outside of yourself.

His voice lingered in your ears—not in the music, but beneath it. Not a word-for-word memory. 

More like the frequency of his speech. The vibration of his words. That low, amused tone he used when something caught him off guard—in a good way.

Your chest pulled tighter.

It didn’t make sense, how many ways the past twenty-four hours had folded themselves around you. How easily he slipped into all the quiet parts of the day. The parts that used to feel yours alone. 

Your eyes glanced to the balcony door.

The sheer curtain stirred faintly in its frame, catching a breeze you couldn’t feel from where you stood.

Outside, the city smudged against the glass—dull orange streetlights, a shifting silhouette of branches, a flicker of someone else’s life a few floors down.

The track was ending—fading into the brief silence between songs. You stood in it, feeling the way it clung to your skin.

And then the thought came, uninvited but unmistakable.

“God,” you muttered, barely above a breath. “I could really use a sesh right now.”

The words hung in the air for a moment—half a joke, half a prayer—and then you turned, the tile cool beneath your socks as you padded down the hallway, the music still playing quietly behind you, like it knew exactly what kind of night this was becoming.

taglist ⸺ @killak9mi; @nikilig; @pinkhoneydrop; @armfloaties; @sat-hoe-ru; @kaqua; @rriwyu; @erenspersonalwh0re; @dishs0pe; @rwirxles; @yourname-exee; @pyruvic; @marianaz; @you-transfix-me; @simplyyyuji; @zoldyi; @linaaeatsfamilies; @anuncalledbridge; @aseqan; @starmapz; @nina-from-317; @kang-ulzzang; @hashahasha; @maybe-a-bi-witch; @zeunys; @pandabiene5115; @shibataimu; @enchantinghonymoon; @gradmacoco; @re-tired-succubus; @aspiring-bookworm; @idkidk32; @paintedperidot; @yourfavbabigirl; @tellria; @ruby-dubydu; @susanhill; @arabellasolstice; @getosshampoo; @xoxoblueyy; @bxnfire; @ayumilk; @hanatsuki-hime; @aldebrana; @jomijase1622; @garden0fyves; @luvaerina; @clearalienjudgeartisan; @smskhee; @vertigoswan; @blackstxnszz; @getoe1s **please note: if your name is striked out, that means I was unable to tag you, please check your settings if you'd like to be tagged**

[thebroccolination]

WHY DOES PATHAPI HAVE A FANDOM AS A WEATHERCASTER???

Because it’s Asia and he’s hot. \o/

Thanks for stopping by!

No, but truly, if you’re watching “The Ex-Morning” through a western lens, then yeah, it’s weird to think of a weathercaster having a fandom. But this never even blipped on my radar because I knew about Hiyama Saya, the Japanese weathercaster who became the equivalent of an idol because she’s young, beautiful, and quirky.

Like, go look at all this stuff we know about this Japanese weathercaster.

Fan culture in a lot of Asian countries works differently from what we’re used to in Not Asia. Hiyama is “just” a weathercaster, but her company intentionally employs her and a bunch of other Young Beautiful Female Weathercasters—

—to cultivate a parasocial fan following. Merch, ticketed fan meetings, etc.

And then fans found out she’s dating a professional tennis player and lost their minds because to them, she’s an idol, and she has to adhere to the unspoken No Dating rule that leaves her available to them as a fantasy.

The company’s stocks plunged.

Definitely watch the video, it’s fascinating.

I don’t say this to be like, “Ha ha, Asian fan culture is so weird,” because it’s no weirder than western fan culture. It’s just different. And of course, Thailand isn’t Japan, but you can see the Thai media industry taking their cues from more established East Asian media models to enable more international growth.

As for Pathapi, we’re shown that his weather forecast corner is just like Hiyama’s: he dresses up in cute costumes and delivers the weather while playing into the persona of an adorable sweet li’l guy.

So when he went against his persona, netizens tore him apart.

That’s why he has to do a new show. His persona has been shattered. That’s also probably partly why Yong brought Tamtawan back, apart from knowing Tam loves Pathapi and will do anything for him—Tamtawan’s ideas are more rooted in serious reporting, and a complete pivot away from Pathapi’s adorable weather thing is the best way to change the conversation and bring him back to what he was aiming for originally anyway: investigative journalism.

So yeah. \:D/ I don’t think a lot of people know about Hiyama Saya, and I keep seeing western fans pointing this out as a baffling point of “The Ex-Morning” so short answer: he’s hot and it’s Asia.

[whencyclopedia]

Ancient Olive Legacy

In the ancient Mediterranean, olives and olive oil were more than just a staple in the diet; they were a thriving industry that spanned across vast territories. The cultivation of olives spread extensively with Phoenician and Greek colonization, reaching from Asia Minor to Iberia and North Africa. This not only made olive oil a sought-after commodity but also embedded it deeply in the cultural fabric, symbolizing peace and victory in significant events like the ancient Olympic Games.

Key Facts

Cultivation Spread: Olives were cultivated across the Mediterranean, from Asia Minor to Iberia and North Africa, primarily through Phoenician and Greek colonization.

Cultural Significance: Olive branches symbolized peace, and olive wreaths were awarded to winners in the ancient Olympic Games.

Trade Importance: Olive oil became a major trading commodity during the Phoenician, Greek, and Roman periods.

Historical Context

The olive industry flourished in the ancient Mediterranean, largely due to its strategic trading routes and the cultural exchange facilitated by Phoenician and Greek colonization. This period saw the rise of olives as a staple food and a symbol of peace and victory.

Historical Significance

The olive and olive oil played a pivotal role in shaping the economic and cultural landscape of the ancient Mediterranean. Beyond its dietary importance, the olive became a powerful symbol, representing peace and triumph in ancient traditions. Its enduring legacy continues to influence modern cultures, reflecting its significance in both historical and contemporary contexts.

Learn More: The Olive in the Ancient Mediterranean

[monstrousgourmandizingcats]

in one of your previous replies, you mentioned cardinals whom the media overlooks that will likely play a pivotal role in choosing the next pope. could you talk a bit more about some of those particular people?

Hi!

Yes, so a lot of these guys are less "overlooked" and more "misrepresented." As you might be aware, Anglophone Catholic media is a very right-wing space, and this extends to wishcasting about this conclave and the cardinals participating in it; even if a relatively conservative Pope does emerge from it, they are going to exaggerate how conservative, possibly in the sort of tones one associates with an old-school phone sex line. It's just how these people are. Think outlets like CNA, The Pillar, even some journalists who cover the Catholic Church for the secular press. So the issue with the cardinals I'm about to profile is that most reporting in the developed-world Anglosphere thinks, or hopes, that they'll be based trads who retvrn to the days of Benedict XVI (himself an absurd caricature in these idiots' minds) and fully repudiate that meanie Francis and his persecution of Latin Mass people, affluent donors, and career Curia ghouls. Well, in the real world, they won't.

Fridolin Ambongo Besungu, Archbishop of Kinshasa and current President of the Symposium of Episcopal Conferences of Africa and Madagascar. Age 65. Papabile. Probably the currently most powerful African cardinal. Was a senior advisor of Pope Francis and generally closely aligned with him, but is best-known in the West for the one issue area where that wasn't true: homosexuality. Cardinal Ambongo has the extreme aversion to gay people that is widespread in Africa, and he was the force behind getting the whole continent a(n ostensibly temporary) carveout from Fiducia supplicans, the document that kinda-sorta-if-you-squint allowed blessings of same-sex couples. He also had a "hot mic" moment in connection with this where he accused Westerners of having "decadent morals" and "not liking children" (true to an extent tbh but bringing it up in this context is a red flag).

However, this is not one of Ambongo's main issues if one looks at his overall career and theological work. His actual priorities are climate action and opposition to the Congolese government. Moreover, one of his big projects within Africa is a pastoral rapprochement with polygamists (a serious issue there), and while "I can excuse polygamy but I draw the line at homosexuality" is a viable position as President of SECAM, it's possible that as Pope he'll be more self-aware of how that looks in other parts of the world and leave the current state of play with Fiducia alone.

Charles Maung Bo, Archbishop of Yangon. Age 76. Second-string papabile. First Burmese cardinal and former President of the Federation of Asian Bishops' Conferences, which is to Asia what SECAM is to Africa. His most Francis-y position is, like with Ambongo, environmental theology; he has compared climate change to the atomic bomb and said it has already "devastated communities and the lives of millions" (which is, of course, true). His least Francis-y position is his anti-Chinese stance and discomfort with the Vatican-China accords that Pope Francis and Cardinal Parolin negotiated. He's spoken very highly of Francis in the days since his death. He's a cipher on LGBT issues and women in the Church, but Asian bishops do tend to have a more open position on the former than do African ones.

Virgílio do Carmo da Silva, Archbishop of Dili. Age 57. The only archbishop in Timor-Leste, the most heavily Catholic country in the world. Not papabile but has been unusually forthright in the ideological positioning he thinks the next Pope should have--neither left nor right of Pope Francis but "neutral" to "keep the Church going in that direction".

There are, however, disquieting indications that Cardinal do Carmo da Silva might be creepily reactionary specifically on "gender theory"; he's said to have gone to a conference on the subject in Prague hosted by right-wing American dark money and featuring a presentation by a hyperconservative Dutch cardinal, Wim Eijk. But it's noteworthy that do Carmo da Silva expressly endorses a continued glide path in a "bergoglian" direction despite that.

Robert Sarah, former Prefect of the Congregation (now Dicastery) for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments. Age 79. Was less than two months shy of aging out of the conclave at the time of Pope Francis's death. Probably the African cardinal most familiar to Catholics in the West, because he is a "based trad" or whatever who moved away from the typical Third Worldist "conservative on the Western culture wars, more 'open' on everything else" stance towards boilerplate reactionary positions over the course of his 70s. Committed elder abuse against then-Pope Emeritus Benedict in order to derail the Amazon synod in 2019. Is a "mass migration" fearmonger despite being a Guinean living and working in Western Europe himself. I do not like him and he has almost certainly burned too many bridges to emerge from this conclave as Pope, although if Francis had died in 2018 or so he would have been much more viable. Currently overinflated in conclave betting markets in countries where that's legal due to the generally rightoid tendencies of the online gambling community. Nevertheless, he still commands a lot of respect among other African bishops and cardinals and might be problematical as a power broker even though I don't think he's a serious papabile. If he does emerge from this conclave as Pope, it's probably best interpreted as a divine scourging for, you know, something or other. Lord knows the Church has done enough to be divinely scourged for.

Mykola Bychok, Eparch of Saints Peter and Paul of Melbourne of the Ukrainians. Age 45 (yes, really). Youngest cardinal in many decades, a "Uniate" Ukrainian Catholic who's spent most of his ministry in the Ukrainian diaspora in the United States and Australia, probably appointed because Francis wanted a Ukrainian and wanted an Australian and didn't like the other church leaders from those places. Bychok himself reportedly hated Francis's guts, but for personal reasons, not ideological ones; he may have also thought Francis was too soft on Russia (not totally unreasonable tbh). He supports synodality and decentralization, like most Eastern Catholics, but is a cypher on culture war issues. He is almost certainly not papabile but because of his unique and interesting situation he might end up with some sway among other "peripheries" cardinals, especially other young (for cardinals) ones.

Jean-Pierre Kutwa, Vice President of the Regional Episcopal Conference of Francophone West Africa and former Archbishop of Abidjan. Age 79. A prototypical "very hostile to 'Western ideological colonization' on homosexuality, gender roles, and family structures, otherwise sympathetic to Pope Francis's social teachings" African prelate. Probably not papabile but seems to command a lot of respect among other Global South cardinals.

Antoine Kambanda, Archbishop of Kigali. Age 66. A Rwandan genocide survivor who has expressly endorsed a continuation of Francis's overall direction for the Church despite sharing the culturally-engrained homophobia of Ambongo, Sarah, and Kutwa.

Stephen Brislin, Archbishop of Johannesburg. Age 68. A second-string papabile according to some sources. A white South African of the Alan Paton/Breyten Breytenbach "one of the good ones" variety (as far as I can tell) who fully supported Pope Francis's direction, even on homosexuality. One of the few African prelates to expressly say that SECAM's position on Fiducia did not reflect his own.

Chibly Langlois, Bishop of Les Cayes and President of the Episcopal Conference of Haiti. Age 66. Has survived two earthquakes and a car crash. Francis loyalist, cypher on Western culture war issues.

Ignace Bessi Dogbo, Archbishop of Abidjan. Age 63. I think he might be a dark horse papabile and so do some news organs within Africa. Ideologically similar to his predecessor in the see of Abidjan, Kutwa, but temperamentally more of a "Francis bishop". One African news organ, Felastory Media out of Nigeria, expressly describes Dogbo as "aligned with Francis's pastoral, synodal vision".

Abidjan, which is the cultural and commercial capital of Ivory Coast, is one of only a few metropolitan areas in the world outside Rome to currently have more than one voting cardinal, along with New York, Toronto, Madrid, Washington, and Lisbon. It has over six million people and one of the largest and fastest-growing Catholic populations in the world. I think Dogbo would be a good option for a more Francis-aligned African Pope; he seems to share other African prelates' homophobia, but without emphasizing it.

William Goh, Archbishop of Singapore. Age 67. A Francis cardinal and seems broadly positive about the late Pope's legacy, but on the conservative side. Might be able to scout out a candidate acceptable to conservatives but less extreme than Sarah. Was at the same creepy "gender ideology" conference as do Carmo da Silva, but, like do Carmo da Silva, does not seem to be primarily interested in the subject.

Soane Patita Paini Mafi, Bishop of Tonga and former President of the Episcopal Conference of the Pacific. Age 63. Hates him some climate change, hates him some Western influence on Polynesian culture. Relatively pro-LGBT for that kind of cardinal, largely because of differences on this point between attitudes widespread in Polynesia and attitudes widespread in Africa. Probably not papabile but an interesting figure.

Lazarus You Heung-sik, Prefect of the Dicastery for the Clergy. Age 73. First Curial cardinal from Korea. Is emerging in reportage on the pre-conclave events as a moderate, consensus-oriented power broker who would like to shield some of these other Global South cardinals from the more extreme and divisive aspects of Sarah's influence.

Dieudonné Nzapalainga, Archbishop of Bangui and President of the Central African Episcopal Conference. Age 58. Discussed as papabile by some sources within Africa. Very young for this process; is the same age as John Paul II was when he became Pope. Could rival or beat Pius IX's record for longest-reigning Pope since St. Peter. Avowedly and explicitly believes that Africa in general and his country (the Central African Republic) in particular have bigger problems than being muh ideologically colonized by the gayz or whatever. Is all but explicitly santo subito-ing Pope Francis.

Nzapalainga has a similar formation and spirituality to Sarah; they were both educated by the Spiritan religious order, which had a "traddy" vibe and was very present in Francophone Africa at mid-century. (Marcel Lefebvre was the superior general of the order for much of the 1960s, if that rings a bell.) But he is much, much, much more moderate than Sarah; he has, again, showered the late Pope Francis with praise, and was one of the few senior figures in the Church with this kind of trad-adjacent formation to continue to work productively with him throughout his pontificate.

Louis Raphaël I Sako, Patriarch of Baghdad of the Chaldeans and head of the Chaldean Catholic Church. Age 76. Like Bychok, is from an Eastern Catholic church, i.e. an organized body of Christians with its own liturgy and spirituality but in full communion with Rome. Is in the extremely unusual and arguably illegal position of having his home government's explicit endorsement for the papacy; the (Shia Muslim) Prime Minister of Iraq thinks very highly of him and openly supports him as Francis's successor. Not considered papabile by seemingly anyone outside the Iraqi government, but who knows? Has effusively praised Francis since his death, especially for his efforts at interfaith solidarity and rapprochement with the Islamic world.

Baselios Cleemis, Major Archbishop of Trivandrum and head of the Syro-Malankara Catholic Church. Age 65. "Il cardinale glocal" (as in global+local) according to Italian news. Like many Indian prelates, has been strongly supportive of Pope Francis. Seems to command esteem among both other South and Southeast Asian cardinals and other cardinals from the Eastern Churches, such as Bychok and Sako.

There are many, many more of these people, but I hope this gives some idea of the dynamics at play with this conclave specifically in Catholicism outside the traditional heartlands of Western/Central Europe and the Americas. These people are "gettable," many of them are neither conservatives nor progressives/bergogliani the way we normally think about those concepts, and they do have an immediate sense of the suffering of the world that the more genteel rich-country cardinals broadly lack.

[greatkittencloud]

TW: Brief Mention of Violence

Black Nova

Chapter 5

Location: RAF Base

Time: 0900 Hours

It's been six months since Nova joined the team. The team started viewing her as one of their own even though no one had seen herface.

Not Gaz , not Soap , not even Ghost.

Only Price.

They didn’t ask. Maybe out of respect. Maybe out of fear of what they might find under the mask.

Even Ghost, who never let anyone into his own guarded world, found himself watching her more closely , learning her movements, the quiet way she handled herself after each mission. She didn’t talk much, but she listened. And in Ghost’s eyes, that counted for more than words.

Strangely enough, missions became easier. Not because the enemies were fewer—if anything, they were more dangerous, more organized but because Nova made them better. Less wounds.Faster execution. Cleaner exits.

Fewer casualties.

There was an unspoken rhythm now. She covered Gaz instinctively, mirrored Soap’s breaching pace, and without needing to be told watched Ghost’s blind spots like they were her own.

One mission had turned into two. Then ten. Six months had passed swiftly.

Location : Somewhere in South Asia.

Time: 0400 Hours

Something was wrong. Nova's head tingled with suspicion but she did not voice it.

Everything was too easy. The buildings were exactly where the intel said it would be.The guards? Too scattered. Too untrained.

The codes? Sitting right there, untouched. Waiting...

They were leaving the compound when the shot rang out.

Crack!

Nova pivoted instinctively, pushing Gaz down and taking the hit herself right between her left shoulder blade. Her muscles twitched with pain but she didn't flinch. She instantly moved putting a bullet between her attackers eyes. "You alright?"

Gaz nodded , and they moved quickly through the building.

She hoped no one noticed her wound.

Location : Safehouse

Time: 0600 Hours

The blizzard came screaming. White was the only thing they saw.

Extraction was not longer an option.

At the safehouse, the team settled. Gaz started checking the information. Soap rifled through the fridge. Ghost stood watch by the window. Price leaned against the wall, arms folded, watching her.

Nova felt the blood soaking into her shirt, warm and slow against her cool skin.

“You gonna tell me, or am I gonna have to drag it out of you?” Price’s voice cut through the room.

Nova looked up. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re hurt,” he said bluntly.

Nova’s jaw clenched. “It’s nothing.”

Price pushed off the wall. “Don’t start that crap with me, soldier.”

Ghost turned at the tone.

“Ghost,” Price said, nodding toward her. “Help her. Now.”

Nova took a step back. “I said I’m fine—”

“Sit down, that's an order." Ghost said , stepping forward. “Let’s not make this worse than it already is.”

She hesitated. But she couldn't deny orders.

So she sat.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist : @massivescissorsthingperson , @hyperfixiation-station , @sweetybuzz25 , @enfppuff , @sheepispink , @kaoyamamegami

[fuckyeahmarxismleninism]

By Gregory Elich

Last year, in an act of overt intimidation, the U.S. conducted seven exercises with nuclear-capable bombers over the Korean Peninsula. Through its actions, Washington sends far more provocative messages than anything that could be honestly construed in Kim Jong Un’s speech. The threat is real and unmistakable from the targeted nation’s perspective.

[centrally-unplanned]

Continuing the "balanced coverage" narrative around Ukraine this time, there absolutely is something to "shocking" the European establishment into taking security threats more seriously. Getting the Europeans to start debating things like deploying peacekeeping troops to Ukraine in a postwar settlement is a necessary step, and it is revealing that the UK - which wants to do this, so they say - could barely even field a contingent as their net army size has dipped below 80k.

Note how it declined since the Ukraine War began. The UK's population is ~70 million by the way! If you want to be a country uninvolved in global security affairs nothing wrong with this, but the UK clearly says it cares, so where is the steel to back the words, right? Europe has absolutely been free-riding off the coattails of the US for a while now, and there has been ample warnings that they have ignored. There is a common meme that I have seen for literally years (saw it most recently via @official-kircheis):

And like, yeah. In the face of this you can totally see how dramatic action might be needed. The US saying "we are bowing out unless you get your shit together" is something the Biden admin could not do, they were too conciliatory and "norm-based". We will see if it goes anywhere ofc, but if just look at things like the Hegseth "pivot to Asia" speech (a totally fair point in isolation) and the European response it is pretty easy to see the "win" in this. To repeat my themes, there are "gordian knots" an outsider take on things can cut in politics and if Dems & others refuse to see that they are hurting themselves.

This just works a lot better if you don't combine it with insane bullshit! Don't cut Ukraine, the country actually fighting, out of the peace talks because what why wtf? Don't also cut your allies out when actually you yourself haven't been that generous - actually the US is only like 40% of the military aid to Ukraine (because of Republican opposition ofc, not any actual funding constraints):

Don't send Ukraine insane colonial economic agreements for mineral rights the US doesn't even need that won't generate revenue as a flex? You know it all, I won't belabor it.

The "argument" the Trump side is going to make is that all this is load-bearing to the "European wake up", but it isn't! That case doesn't auto-make itself; Europe has a strong, long-proven stake in Ukraine, many countries have donated more as a percent of GDP than the US has. You can just credibly go to the wall on the real stakes without the bullshit.

And obviously they don't really care about this argument, it isn't their real motives, but still it is going to be made. You should admit that previous administrations (including Trump 1 ofc, which blustered much but did little) have been too easy on Europe. And that while it isn't required there is nothing wrong with a firm play. That way, you can separate that out from the horrible stuff.

[apas-95]

small reminder stalinism isn't communism, there is no such a thing as "socialism in one country" + stalinists are often queerphobes helping bigotry + you're still an environment killer

surrendering 100 years of successful revolutionary practice and theory to the immensurate wisdom of your 'vibes-based analysis'. I'd suggest you go read desert and then kill yourself but I guess reading isn't your forte so like. idk live a long life and watch as your ideology does literally nothing, just like it's done literally nothing so far in history. btw the people's republic of china just reached peak greenhouse gas emissions and has been installing more green power than the rest of the world combined. it's weird you only learned the word 'han chinese' when the US started its "Pivot to Asia" and funneled billions of USD into "countering Chinese influence", but hey, no need to think about that when you know 'stalinists' are homophobes

[indierpgnewsletter]

New Itch Games Dec to March 2025

Missed an edition of this regular round-up of new games on itch. If this is the first time you’re seeing one of these: they are mostly games that came through this form. I haven’t played or read them but each of them has something that made me sit up and pay attention. This is a particularly bountiful episode because I would play all of these games.

Deluge at Drizzle Distillery: There’s a magical storm at the holy water distillery! Oh no! An adventure by Mun Kao for Kala Mandala, his fantasy SE Asia setting.

Land in the Mist Starter Set: This is a horror game where you play through specific scenarios set in the real world between 1750 and 1850. The starter set contains all the rules and has an adventure, Of Pagans and Reindeer, set in Northern Finland in 1811. (Rat in a Suit / PWYW)

unfamiliar: A game of magical familiars who have lost or been abandoned by their wizardly masters. It’s partially inspired by We3 which is one of those sad comics designed to hit you right in the feelings. (Feature Creep / PWYW)

What Happened To Margot Kwan: This is a mystery for Girls at the Genziana Hotel, a PbtA game of maids in a hotel investigating the disappearance of one of their own. This moves the game to an American university town. Genziana Hotel is a really interesting game and this adventure/setting moves it into more explicitly Life is Strange territory. (Mynar Lenahan)

Tactical Espionage Action: Dice Goblin Games wrote 16 adventures for FIST, the occult espionage game, in two months. They include: infiltrating casinos, volcanic lairs, frigid research stations, colonial horrors, and of course, Satan trapped in a beach ball. (PWYW outside the bundle)

Alone in the Loop: A solo journalling game of a time traveler experience hope and despair as they explore the same loop over and over again. Great premise. (Paul Doyle / PWYW)

Mum Chums: A slice of life game about motherhood and looking after children from Tanya Floaker. It’s a real world game exploring real world themes, simultaneously high stakes and low stakes in the best way. (Unlimited community copies)

Faire Season 2: A group of historical reenactors at a Ren Faire-type event get pulled into an actual quest of myth and magic by the power of The Dream. It uses the Belonging outside Belonging system to explore our relationship to our roleplay alter-egos. (Okami)

Ringmaster: A Descended from the Queen game about a dark, magical circus. Honestly, that was enough for me. Like For the Queen, it revolves around a powerful NPC, the Ringmaster, and ends with a pivotal question: is the circus your home or your prison or both? (Spotless Dice Games)

One Of Us Will Die: A social deduction RPG of tragedy and fate. One of the characters, the Mark, knows they will die at the end but can’t say so. One of the characters is trying to kill the Mark before they can fulfill their destiny. The rest of the group are trying to save the Mark and maybe sacrifice themselves instead. (Titus Villanueva)

The Archivium: A solo dark academia game. By day, you’re a student. By night, you’re a guardian of a secret, magical library. You build out the archive and its weird classification system and play towards one of 16 endings. (Lich Light)

In Love With The Moon: The year is 1968. You are a team of scientists, crowded in an old castle where the air flows thick with LSD and there is a maze of rooms below you stocked with every scientific oddity, all for one purpose: to get you to the moon by whatever means necessary. (James Kerr / PWYW)

Ring-lationship Disc-ord: A game where you play Crokinole (!?) to tell the story of two people who are locked in an argument that stems from their past and identity. Truly one of the worst names for anything ever (I say this with love) but I am a sucker for using folk games to explore a story that resonates with their existing mechanics. (Colin Mancini, Sociable Turtle Games)

Codename: Cinderella: A cute one page game about espionage agents working for the Fairy Godmother to execute nursery rhyme-inspired missions. (Fuzztech)

The Burning of the Free Port of Dohn Amuran: This is an adventure for Grimwild from Natalie Ash. It’s a powder keg situation featuring a violent dockmaster, a free union of boat captains, and the adventurers with a chance to prevent bloodshed and broker a fragile peace.

Deadline: A GM-less, map-making, news-chronicling game. Play journalists who are capturing the story of a changing city with their headlines. The city itself is in the grip of an industrial revolution and all that entails. (Wanderers Tome)

I really enjoyed making this list. It just reminded me that there’s so many interesting games out there and I wish I had time to play them all. These designers are all doing fascinating work and making weird art. It makes me happy and I hope making this stuff made them happy too.

[psychotrenny]

Pretending like any communist country had no faults is just as bad as Europeans acting like their country has no faults, you can only battle corruption by calling it out and I have a feeling that if Israel was somehow communist you'd be defending them and somehow excusing what they're doing to the Palestinians much like how you're excusing what China is doing to the Uyghurs

Thank you for providing an example of exactly what I was talking about. Now China isn't perfect (and I never claimed it was) and if you want to criticise it's mistakes and wrongdoings there's plenty to talk about both past and present. Just off the top of my head you could talk about the reflexive anti-Sovietism leading to attacks on fellow revolutionaries (i.e. Vietnam) and support for misguided or even counter-revolutionary movements (CPK in Cambodia, UNITA in Angola) or the excessive concessions to foreign capitalists (i.e. Foxconn) in the name of economic development that allowed these firms to exploit and abuse Chinese citizens. But what you can't talk about is the "Uyghur Genocide" because it's not a fucking thing that's happening. It's completely fucking made up by reactionary dipshits as a part of the USA's strategic "pivot to Asia". Like it's not as though China has perfectly handled the issue of Islamic Fundamentalist violence in the territory (i.e. forbidding certain items of clothing is clearly an unnecessarily oppressive and likely counter-productive tactic) but their focus on countering terrorism by changing the material conditions that led to radicalisation in the first place put the Chinese above any part of "The West" in this regard. And whatever you want to say about China's policy towards Xinjiang it's sure as fuck not "genocide"

Anyway plenty of people do in fact claim that Israel is some sort of communist and on this blog I have always expressed the view that this position is complete bullshit; "Labour Zionism" is a fucking joke of an ideology that only functions as a tool for class collaborations with the Settler Bourgeoisie granting their Proletariat concessions in exchange for support in the super-exploitation of the Indigenous working class. Like you can't just say "Oh I'd bet you'd fall for this" when I very clearly haven't

My point isn't that "any communist country has no faults". My point is that Left Anti-Communists don't want a good faith discussion of these faults as is proven by their obsession with faults that aren't even fucking real. Just like you are doing right now in fact. If you want to criticise people for being too soft on communist regimes then please do so over things that are actually happening and not completely fabricated by the most rabidly reactionary US propagandists. Thanks 👍

[sephsbat]

Understanding The Hellenistic Culture

Hellenism refers to the culture, ideals, and patterns of life that emerged in ancient Greece and spread throughout the Mediterranean and beyond, particularly during the Hellenistic period (323–30 BCE). This era began with the death of Alexander the Great and lasted until the establishment of Roman domination.

1. Cultural Influence

Hellenism was characterized by the spread of Greek culture, language, and ideas. This influence was particularly strong in regions that Alexander the Great conquered, including parts of Asia and North Africa. Greek became the lingua franca, facilitating trade and communication.

2. Philosophy and Science

The Hellenistic period saw the flourishing of philosophy and science. Schools of thought such as Stoicism, Epicureanism, and Skepticism emerged, each offering different perspectives on ethics, knowledge, and the nature of the universe. Figures like Epicurus and Zeno of Citium were pivotal in shaping philosophical discourse.

3. Art and Architecture

Hellenistic art is known for its increased emotional expression and realism compared to earlier periods. Sculptures depicted more dynamic poses and detailed facial expressions. Architecture also evolved, with grand structures and the use of new techniques, leading to impressive monuments like the Lighthouse of Alexandria.

4. Religion and Mythology

Hellenism also saw the adaptation and syncretism of religious beliefs. While traditional Greek gods remained central, local deities were often incorporated into Hellenistic practices. This blending of religions allowed for a diverse spiritual landscape.

5. Political Structures

The political landscape of the Hellenistic world was marked by the rise of various kingdoms, such as the Seleucid Empire and the Ptolemaic Kingdom in Egypt. These states often adopted Greek customs and governance models, thus furthering the spread of Hellenic culture.

Hellenism or the Hellenistic period represents a significant chapter in history, showcasing the exchange of ideas and culture across vast regions. Its legacy continues to influence modern Western thought, art, and philosophy, making it a vital area of study for understanding the foundations of contemporary society.

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Global women’s seven-a-side football series launched with $100m investment

‘This is going to be a world-class event for these players’

First eight-team event set to take place in Lisbon in May

A lucrative new seven-a-side global women’s football series has been announced with the first event set to take place in Portugal from 21-23 May. The new competition has been named the ‘World Sevens Football’ and it is understood there is a commitment to invest $100m (£77m) in the series over a five-year period.

The new series of invitational “grand slam” tournaments, first reported by the Guardian, will feature $5m prize money per event. It is funded by investment from the US-based philanthropist Jennifer Mackesy, co-owner of the NWSL club Gotham FC, and will be broadcast live by the streaming platform DAZN.

The teams involved in the first eight-team competition have not been confirmed, but a different set of clubs will compete in the second event in November-December, which will be staged on a different continent. The winning team at each event will receive $2.5m.

The organisers say players will be “at the heart” of the series and they have been guided by a player advisory council, which is led by the former USWNT winger Tobin Heath and also includes the former Sweden captain Caroline Seger, the former England and Team GB defender Anita Asante, the ex-USA right-back Kelley O’Hara, and the former France defender Laura Georges, who previously spent more than seven years as the secretary general of the French football federation.

‘World Sevens Football’ has named the former US women’s international and Bay FC co-founder Aly Wagner as chief of strategy, and she told the Guardian: “This is one of those really pivotal moments in women’s football, and an opportunity for us to do something unique and different. This is a global series that will travel the world and one of the keys to this is really opening the market and growing the market of women’s football in those places.

“The seven-v-seven format is one the players love, it’s one of their favourite things to do in training, the small-sided games and it’s one that I think fans will end up clamouring for. It’s so intense, action-packed and it’s all the stuff that players love, one-v-one duels, shots, goals.

“This is going to be a world-class event for these players, they’re going to be treated the way we always dreamed of being treated as players, from the moment they step off the plane.”

The inaugural tournament will be staged from 21-23 May in Estoril, Portugal, on a grass pitch at Estádio António Coimbra da Mota, where it is understood a ‘stadium within a stadium’ will be built around a half-sized pitch for the seven-a-side games. That is directly in the run-up to this year’s Women’s Champions League final, being staged nearby in Lisbon, so the two finalists will not be involved in the first event.

The venues for future events have not been announced but the organisers say they are planning to go to cities “across the United States, Mexico, Asia, Europe, and beyond”. The group have been in dialogue with Fifa and Uefa but do not expect to need any governing body’s permission to run the series, because seven-a-side is not a codified form of the game.