#also lets be real lets be honest i do enjoy pathetic white men. a lot

[wulfhalls]

i'm blaming you and your kylux posting phase for making me going through a kylux phase again and not only that, also having to come to terms with them still hitting so hard. they were just perfect, i will die on that hill

it's so humiliating I know 😭😭😭✋️ like oh dummy still hasn't moved on from like 3 mins of screen time from almost a decade ago?? thicc dummy dumb still gets invested in a dynamic that has fuck all to do with anything even resembling canon post those 3 mins of screentime?? SAD!!!!

[birdhaslostit]

🎁🎄❄️What the Lupin Gang would do for Christmas!❄️🎄🎁

Helloooooooo Lupin fans! You may or may not remember me as that one chick who made that Halloween headcanon post a few months back, as well as the Jigen’s bangs post. I’m back with a Christmas post!!!

Please note: Personally, I really only celebrate Christmas in a non-Jesus-y way. (Which is how I’m also writing this post, because let’s be honest, do you really think Lupin is going to confession and shit? Absolutely not.) It’s purely out of habit because I was raised Catholic, but I practice witchcraft now. My family doesn’t know that though. Because of this, I considered also making posts for other winter holidays, so I could include Lupin fans that don’t celebrate Christmas. But I didn’t want to accidentally mess it up, or write something inaccurate about a holiday that I don’t celebrate. It felt disingenuous to make a Hanukkah post because I’m not Jewish and it doesn’t seem like my place, and I didn’t want to do a Yule one either, because no two people celebrate it the same way. So, I strongly encourage others to add their respective winter festivities to this post if they want to! We’re all about inclusivity here.

Without further ado:

🎁LUPIN:

I don’t feel like it needs saying, but this man goes bonkers for Christmas.

He flip-flops his choice of red or green jacket by the year. But it always comes with an equally garish Christmas-themed tie, just to make explicitly clear that this is The Christmas Jacket for the year, as opposed to the standard red/green jacket.

The hideout(s) are always decorated to the GILLS inside. It’s an odd mix of older classy decorations he’s inherited from his family, and absolutely horrendously tacky ones he’s bought himself. 

Picture real branch garlands, wrapped tastefully around gilded candelabras that have been passed down through several generations. And then one of those singing, dancing stuffed animals from Walmart that plays “Jingle Bell Rock” when you squeeze its paw, right next to it.

Christmas-themed heists? You know it, baby. But he won’t steal anything on Christmas Eve or Christmas. It just isn’t in the spirit of the season, in his opinion. But he’ll leave a little something-something with his calling cards during the rest of December. A candy cane, a sprig of mistletoe, a bough of holly, etc.

Lupin despises eggnog. He loves any other Christmas drink, just not eggnog. He’s too grossed out by the idea of drinking eggs with alcohol- some things just shouldn’t be mixed.

Will not allow anyone to mention the truth about Santa Claus in his presence. Yeah, he knows, but that’s not the point. It just feels like bad luck to say it out loud. The harder Jigen tries to debate with him that Santa isn’t real, the harder he digs in his heels that “of course he is you absolute Scrooge, how dare you! If you don’t believe, you don’t receive.”

Favorite Christmas Songs: Anything peppy! 

Wonderful Christmastime by Paul McCartney

Step Into Christmas by Elton John

Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree by Brenda Lee

We Need a Little Christmas by Percy Faith and his Orchestra

A Holly Jolly Christmas by Burl Ives

All I Want For Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey

Santa Claus’ Party by Les Baxter

Favorite Christmas Drinks: Literally anything except eggnog.

Favorite Christmas Foods: Anything obscenely sugary. Especially gingerbread men and other decorated pastries.

Favorite Christmas Activities: Loves to ice skate and make gingerbread houses! But his houses usually look fairly pathetic, no matter how hard he tries.

Favorite Christmas Movie(s): 

The Grinch (Jim Carrey version)

Home Alone

Scrooged

Christmas Gifts: The king of gag gifts, but he also gives surprisingly thoughtful presents too. He’s the kind of guy that would get a person something they mentioned once offhandedly that they really liked, and he’d go back and get it for them.

🎅JIGEN:

Lupin always wants to decorate the hideout(s) the second Halloween ends, but it never happens. With Jigen being the only American in the gang, he always puts a stop to it in order to preserve the quickly-disappearing border between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

What can I say, dude loves his Thanksgiving excuse to eat like shit and do nothing for a day. Even if it is a fucked-up holiday, historically speaking.

But once the Thanksgiving meal is over, he gives Lupin the okay to go crazy. He’s pretty stoked about Christmas too, but too full of turkey to contribute, so he just watches Lupin hang up Christmas lights everywhere while he lays on the couch and digests.

Jigen likes Christmas a lot, but like, in a normal person kind of way. Nowhere near Lupin’s insane level. He’s surprisingly open about his enthusiasm too. The average person would think he doesn’t really care about Christmas much (or anything else really), but to the gang, Christmastime is the most openly excited they’ve ever seen him.

One year’s Christmas-themed heist involved Jigen dressing up as a mall Santa as a part of the plan. The gang powdered his beard, gave him a pillow for his stomach, and sent him on his way. Everything went surprisingly smoothly, and he actually did pretty well with the kids. At first they were a little intimidated, and Jigen was kind of nervous- but he gave them all candy canes and they changed their minds pretty quickly.

Jigen enjoyed it a lot, actually... to the point that he may have potentially started volunteering to be the local mall Santa. Every year during December, he leaves for a day or two on “business.” Nobody in the gang can prove it though, and trust me, they’ve tried.

Favorite Christmas Songs: The classics and the chill ones, with a few rock ones thrown in for a little kick.

Mele Kalikimaka by Bing Crosby

Sleigh Bells by Gene Autry

(There’s No Place Like) Home For The Holidays by Perry Como

Jingle Bells by Frank Sinatra

Caroling, Caroling by Nat King Cole

Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow by Dean Martin

Silver Bells by Dean Martin

Happy Holiday by Bing Crosby

Run Rudolph Run by Chuck Berry

Merry Christmas Baby by Bruce Springsteen (Sang this once after too much eggnog and will never live it down)

God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen by the Barenaked Ladies (He’s not into all the Jesus-y stuff, but it’s pretty catchy.)

Favorite Christmas Drinks: Jigen is ALL. ABOUT. THAT. NOG. He’ll make his cup a little stronger than everyone else’s.

Favorite Christmas Foods: He really likes candy canes, especially the mini ones. He’ll keep a few in his pocket with his cigs, and switch between them depending on his mood. Out of habit, it’ll usually dangle out of his mouth like a cigarette would.

Favorite Christmas Activities: Watching Christmas movies and laughing at Lupin’s shitty gingerbread houses.

Favorite Christmas Movies: 

Anything that’s on at the moment, really. He likes to lounge by the TV, and he’s not picky. 

He has a soft spot for A Charlie Brown Christmas though.

A Christmas Story, solely because of the BB gun.

Scrooged, because Bill Murray’s hilarious.

Christmas Gifts: Something practical and useful that the person never realized they needed until they opened the box.

☃️GOEMON:

Goemon wasn’t originally a huge fan of Christmas. Shocking, I know.

He now enjoys some aspects of it, and tolerates others. He likes the idea of giving heartfelt gifts and spending time with loved ones as a tradition, but dislikes the cheesy commercial aspect of Christmas.

He already enjoys the snow and walking through the forest, so the gang usually commissions him to pick a tree for them and cut it down with Zantetsuken. (If they’re somewhere where that’s an option.)

Unbeknownst to the rest of the gang, he will always replant the tree he cut down, and he will wrap something cozy around the bottom of the sapling to keep it safe. Yes, this was directly inspired by A Charlie Brown Christmas. No, he will not admit to this.

Favorite Christmas Songs: The instrumentals, and a few he’d rather die than admit to liking.

The Nutcracker March from The Nutcracker

Waltz of the Flowers from The Nutcracker

Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy from The Nutcracker

Christmas Time Is Here (Instrumental) by the Vince Guaraldi Trio

Greensleeves by the Vince Guaraldi Trio

Last Christmas by Wham! (He likes the storyline and the romantic aspect of it.)

Do They Know It’s Christmas? by Band Aid (He likes that it was for a good cause, even if it has its flaws.)

Happy Xmas (War Is Over) by John Lennon and Yoko Ono (Again, flawed, but he enjoys the intended message of peace. Also, represents Japan on the side with Yoko Ono.)

White Winter Hymnal by Fleet Foxes

Favorite Christmas Drinks: Surprisingly fond of hot cocoa. Heavy on the whipped cream and marshmallows. 

Favorite Christmas Foods: Doesn’t really like eating gingerbread men, but enjoys decorating them. They’re always pristine, like something you’d get in a bakery.

Favorite Christmas Activities: See above. Also enjoys going out in the snow, and making ice sculptures with Zantetsuken.

Favorite Christmas Movies: Refuses to admit he likes any of these.

Any of the classic Rankin Bass claymation specials.

Any other animated ones for kids. Has a soft spot for A Charlie Brown Christmas and The Polar Express.

A few of those cheesy Hallmark ones.

Christmas Gifts: Something small and sentimental he saw while walking by a store that reminded him of the person he’s giving it to. Nothing extravagant, but thoughtful nonetheless.

⛸FUJIKO:

Fujiko decorates the tree. Period. Lupin cannot be trusted to do this on his own. Goemon picks the tree, Lupin and Jigen put it in the stand, and from there, it’s all Fujiko. The ornaments, lights, and tree skirt are all perfectly color/theme coordinated, and arranged like a pristine store display. 

She also has a few ornaments that she bought for each specific member of the gang. Lupin’s is a monkey (he was not pleased, but he’s whipped for her, so he let her keep it). Jigen’s is a carved wooden pistol. Goemon’s is porcelain, with hand-painted sakura blossoms on it. She bought one for Zenigata too as a joke one year- a tiny bowl of ramen noodles.

Her ornament? The star on top of the tree, because she’s the star of the show, baby. It’s actually a snowflake, made of the finest crystal she could steal.

Favorite Christmas Songs: Pop music and Motown’s finest.

Underneath The Tree by Kelly Clarkson

All I Want For Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey

Santa Tell Me by Ariana Grande

This Christmas by Donny Hathaway

What Christmas Means To Me by Stevie Wonder

Sleigh Ride by The Ronettes 

Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree by Brenda Lee

Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) by Darlene Love

A Marshmallow World by Darlene Love

I Like A Sleighride (Jingle Bells) by Peggy Lee

Favorite Christmas Drinks: Hot chocolate and mulled wine.

Favorite Christmas Foods: Loves baking and eating gingerbread men. She lets Goemon decorate them with her. Hers have lots of candy and sprinkles on them, while his are just icing.

Favorite Christmas Activities: Along with baking, ice skating! She’s the best at it out of the whole group. None of the guys are particularly good at it, but she makes them go with her at least once regardless.

Favorite Christmas Movies:

Hallmark ones, solely to make fun of them.

Babes In Toyland, but only the 1986 one, because it has Keanu Reeves in it, and “I don’t care if I’m your girlfriend, Lupin. In this house, we support Keanu Reeves.”

Christmas Gifts: Something expensive/extravagant that will make the person think of her every time they use it.

🎄ZENIGATA:

Zenigata is the second biggest Christmas enthusiast, just behind Lupin.

He doesn’t get to settle down and decorate anything really, since he’s always running after the gang, but he does lots of other little things to celebrate instead. Like getting hot chocolate instead of coffee, tuning the squad car radio to the Christmas station, getting an air freshener that smells like gingerbread, and wearing a festive scarf and gloves with his trench coat to keep out the cold.

In years past, Zenigata still had to work on Christmas Eve/Christmas, even if Lupin wasn’t out stealing anything. Lupin found out and thought that was a little harsh of ICPO, so he came up with a plan. 

Each year he sends a calling card to the station with the conditions that only Zenigata can come to investigate. Zenigata does some research, shows up to the location on Christmas Eve, and every year, nothing’s there except for a neatly wrapped present from Lupin. 

Zenigata keeps the present as “evidence,” goes back to the station, and they give him Christmas off to go investigate on his own, in case Lupin tries anything else. Lupin never does, but the station doesn’t know that. Bada bing, bada boom, Lupin just got Zenigata a vacation.

Zenigata never catches on, bless his heart.

Favorite Christmas Songs: Ones he can sing/hum along to in the squad car.

The Man With All The Toys by The Beach Boys

Celebrate Me Home by Kenny Loggins

Feliz Navidad by José Feliciano (Does Zenigata understand Spanish? Absolutely not. Does he get the point and think it’s festive? Darn right.)

A Holly Jolly Christmas by Burl Ives

Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer by Dean Martin

Winter Wonderland by the Eurythmics

Silver Bells by Dean Martin

Happy Holiday/The Holiday Season by Andy Williams

Santa Claus Is Comin’ To Town by Gene Autry

December by Earth, Wind, and Fire (Let him have this okay, it’s a good song and he gets made fun of for liking it by the rest of ICPO)

Skating by the Vince Guaraldi Trio

Favorite Christmas Drinks: Hot cocoa and eggnog, but not strong eggnog like Jigen’s.

Favorite Christmas Foods: Anything, really. It’s something besides cup noodles, so he’s grateful. Lupin’s gift always includes lots of various Christmas goodies because of this.

Favorite Christmas Activities: Zenigata enjoys the snow in theory, but doesn’t handle the cold well. So he likes to watch the snow from his window while he listens to Christmas music in his squad car and sips his hot cocoa.

Favorite Christmas Movies: He doesn’t really have a lot of time to sit down a watch a movie, with how hard he works. But he remembers a few from when he was younger, and he really likes those. His favorite is Frosty the Snowman.

Christmas Gifts: Something inexpensive because ICPO vastly underpays this poor man, and he’s always embarrassed because of that, but it’s always something super sweet and heartfelt.

MERRY CHRISTMAS! And for those who don’t celebrate it, HAPPY HOLIDAYS! <3

[lovemychoices]

The Lost Prince - TRR AU [Liam x MC] Mini Series - Chapter 4

After being married for three years and unable to produce an heir, Liam and Riley are about to give up when Liam gets an unexpected news that changes his life forever.

Genre : Romance, Drama

*THIS SERIES PRACTICALLY THROWS CANON OUT THE WINDOW* YEET!YEET!

Characters except my OCs belong to Pixelberry, I am just borrowing them

Word count : 2k ++ ish.

Chapter Summary: 6 months later

A/N : One more chapter to go and then an epilogue! Sorry I couldn’t put the keep reading option since I’m posting via phone. Anyways enjoy.

WARNINGS : GUN VIOLENCE AND CHARACTER DEATH

Warning : I’m rating this PG18 cause there will probably be PG18 stuff that’s going to happen in future chapters. So if you read this series you acknowledge that you are 18 and above.

Catch up with other chapters HERE

6 months later...

The sound of the bustling staff parade through the halls of the Cordonian palace as they get ready for what was going to be a memorable day for the country. Liam sat in his office going through some proposals that required his attention before he had to get ready for tomorrow's big event and he was excited because it’s going to be Theon’s official debut as the crown prince of Cordonia.

When they first brought Theon to Cordonia six months ago, the press would not stop hounding them. Apparently someone tipped them regarding the King returning to Cordonia with his illegitimate son. Between retaking the paternity test as demanded by half the council and the couple trying to help Theon adjust to his new home, things weren’t as easy as they thought or at least it wasn’t at first. Luckily Theon adjusted quickly to his new life, he began to grow on Riley the more time they spent together and loved him like he was her own son.

4 months ago..

Riley sat in front of the dresser putting on her moisturizer, she smiled as she saw her husband's reflection in the mirror as he entered the room. “Is he finally asleep?”

“Yes, we didn’t even make it halfway through the story.” Liam replied, walking up to his wife giving her a kiss on the forehead. Riley lets out a soft giggle. “He must be tired from our picnic by the lake this afternoon, we had quite the adventure.”

Liam took her hand and kneels beside her, his head tilted upwards, eyes gazing into hers an adoring expression on his face. “Thank you, Riley.”

“You don’t have to thank me Liam, I love spending time with Theon.” She replied with a genuine smile.

Liam shook his head. “It's not just that, it’s for everything else. You’ve been so supportive of Theon and of me. I know it’s not easy helping raise someone else’s son.”

“To be honest Liam, I was afraid at first. I didn’t want to make Theon think that I was replacing his mother. I was afraid he might hate me because of that but it’s quite the opposite, he is a very sweet and kind boy just like his father. And I love him just as much as I love you.”

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that and I think Theon cares about you too. He wouldn’t stop going on about his time with you today.” He beams. “We’re both lucky to have you Riley.” Riley gave Liam a thoughtful look before broaching a subject that’s been on her mind for quite some time. “About Theon, I know we never talked about it because you probably just wanted to spare my feelings but I think you should speak with the council and declare Theon as your legitimate heir and the official crown prince of Cordonia.”

Liam’s expression is somewhere between surprise and joy. “Riley, I don’t know what to say. Are you sure about this? But what if we have a child someday?” Riley smiled, taking his hand and giving it a warm squeeze. “Then I will still stand by my decision, Theon will be the next heir of Cordonia. Also, I think it’s time we file the paperwork and make him an official Rhys.”

Liam beamed his heart filled with happiness at that moment, he scoped Riley in his arms and twirled her around, making her giggle. Liam gave her a kiss on the lips. “You don’t know how much hearing this from you means to me. How can I ever repay you, my queen?” She grinned mischievous at him. “I know one way you can start.” She gestured towards their luxurious king size bed. “As you wish my queen.”

Present day.

“Knock Knock.” A voice calls out from the entrance of the office door, Liam lifts his head and sees Maxwell peeking his head between the gap of the door. “Mind if we intrude for a little?” Maxwell asks beaming.

“We?”

“Stop blocking the door Maxwell and go in already!” Drake growls, giving an eye roll. The two enter, Drake holding a bottle of whiskey in his hand while Maxwell saunters towards the bar cart grabbing a few glasses. The two take a seat opposite Liam. “Thought we could use a drink to celebrate.” Drake mentions as he opens up the bottle of whiskey and pouring it into the glasses. “Drake is that the vintage whiskey I got you for your birthday last year?” Liam questions him.

“Yup, only the best for special occasions.” He beams, taking a sip of the expensive amber liquid. “Where’s Leo? I thought he’d be here by now?”

“His flight got delayed but he and his family should be arriving at the palace in an hour.” He replies, giving both gentlemen a curious look. “Have any of you seen Riley?”

“I saw her with Hana, talking final preparations a few moments ago. Apparently Madeleine has been missing all day for some reason so Riley and Hana are picking up the slack.” Maxwell answers with a shrug. “We’ve been trying to call her all day but no answer.”

Drake snorts a laugh. “She probably heard Leo is coming and is trying to avoid him and Amara.” “I won’t fight you one that answers.” Liam chuckles, taking his phone on the desk to text Riley.

Liam : Hey is everything going ok? Drake and Maxwell told me about Madeleine suddenly being MIA.”

Riley : I have most things under control, by the way can you have Maxwell meet me and Hana at the east wing?”

Liam : Alright, I’ll let him know.I Love you my Queen.

Riley : I love you too my king.

**********************************************

Riley giggles at the text she got from Liam, even after all these years being married she still gets butterflies whenever her husband tells her he loves her. It was an hour past noon and Riley still had a lot of arrangements to take care of before Theon’s big day, things that should have been done by Madeleine had she not decided to suddenly go missing. Luckily for her she had friends who were more than willing to help her out.

“Riley, I’ve talked to the baker, they’ll have the cake delivered tomorrow two hours before the event and Olivia has just arrived, she’s going to meet us at the kings office.” Hana informs Riley as she saunters towards her beaming. “And I’ve talked to Bastien, he already has the guards stationed everywhere in case anything happens.”

Riley lets out a sigh of relief, looping her arm with Hana’s. “Thanks Hana and I’m sorry I got you roped into all this, especially since you’re in your last trimester.”

Hana chuckles gently placing one hand on her 8 month pregnant belly. “It’s fine, besides i could use some exercise. Now common, Maxwell should be waiting for us at the east wing right now.”

*********************************

While Liam and Liam were hanging out at the king’s office and Riley, Hana and Maxwell were busy going through some last details, Theon was in his room at the kings quarters playing with his favourite stuffed lion.“Rwww!” He roars, jumping in front of his nanny. She acts surprised and gives an exaggerated gasp. “Oh no! A fierce lion is going to eat me, whatever will I do?”

“Lancelot the Lion isn’t going to eat you. He is here to protect from all the bad people. Lancelot the brave is what they call him.” He said, his expression stoic.

The nanny chuckles. “Well then, We must be really lucky to have him on our side.” Theon nods beaming then continues to run about the room with his stuff Lion. “Be careful young prince, we wouldn’t want any bumps and bruises before your big party tomorrow.” She reminds him, shaking her head then continues with her reading.

A little while later the doorbell to the quarters rings. The nanny closes her book and puts it on the side table before heading for the door, when she opens it and is greeted by one of the king's guards. “Package for the queen, his royal majesty requested I send it here.”

The nanny gives her an inquiring look, she’s never seen this one before, must be one of the new recruits that came last week. “I’m sorry I’ve never seen you before, where is Mara?”

“Mara is my senior, I am currently training under her and she asked me to bring this over while she runs something with Bastien. Something about the last security details before the big event tomorrow. Now if you don’t mind, this box is quite heavy.”

The nanny hesitates but nods and steps aside to let her in. “You can put it over there.” She gestures towards the white marbled island. The king's guard enters, placing the box on top of the island. “Is that all?” The nanny asks.

The king's guard takes one look at her, a wicked grin curling at the corner of her lips. “Actually there is.” She said reaching for the inside of her blazer and pulling out a gun with a silencer attached, shooting the nanny dead straight in the chest without another word. The woman sneered as she hovered over the nanny, watching as she lay on the floor lifelessly bleeding out. “Pathetic.” She scoffs, taking off her wig letting her real hair flow down her shoulders, she starts peeling off the silicone paste from her nose and cheeks. “Now onto the next business.”

She heads upstairs to where Theon’s room is located, when she opens the door she sees him still playing with his toy. He turns around when he notices her walking over towards him. “Hello Theon, would you like to play a little game?” She sneers, a glint of wickedness in her eyes.

********************************

Back at the king’s office, the two men were still seated with a glass of whiskey in hand chatting when Riley, Hana, Maxwell and Olivia entered the room. “Ah I knew the two of you would still be here.” Riley said as she sauntered towards her husband, leaning in to give him a soft kiss before turning to Drake. “I’ll have a glass of that if you don’t mind.”

Drake chuckles. “You sure look like you could use one.” Riley and Hana lets the men get up to speed on everything they have been doing since they found out Madeleine decided to go missing this morning for some “urgent business.” A little while later they are interrupted by a knock on the door. “Come in.” Liam states.

The door opens and in walks his assistant with his hand folded behind him. “Your majesty, Dr Suri is on the other line. She wants to have a word with you and the Queen.” Dr. Suri was the new gynecologist they started seeing a week ago. She was highly recommended by Hana and since they were going nowhere with their old doctor they decided to try this one. But no one except their friends knew about this. The doctor suggested that Riley and Liam have another test done to see if there was something the old doctor missed.

Liam gives a nod and the assistant walks out of the room. The rest of the gang give each other a knowing look. “We should head out, the two of you might want some privacy.” Drake mentions.

“No it’s fine Drake, we could use the moral support for whatever the result is.”

The couple give each other a comforting look before pressing the speaker on the phone. “Dr. Suri, it's King Liam and Queen Riley, are you calling about our results?”

“Yes, I’m sorry to bother both of you. I know our next appointment is not for another two weeks but I think this couldn’t wait. The two shared a worried look, Liam holding onto Riley’s hand giving it a comforting squeeze. Both hoping it was nothing serious. “Is it something we should be worried about?”

”Goodness nothing of the sort. The two of you are perfectly healthy, the reason I’m calling is because I found high levels of estrogen and progesterone in her majesty’s blood system. If you don’t mind could you send me a picture of the supplements you’ve been taking these past three years? Not the bottles but the pills inside them.”

Riley raised her eyebrow curious, the others also made the same expression. “Sure, would you give me a minute, I have them in my purse.” She quickly grabs her purse and takes them out from a small pill organizer then takes a clear picture and sends it to her doctor.

“I’ve received your photo.” She acknowledges. “And it’s as I suspected. Your majesty you’ve been taking birth control pills instead of folic acid this entire time.” An air of silence filled the room, everyone was shocked by the news. All this time Riley thought there was something wrong with her when there wasn’t it was the pills that were the problem but still she had to ask. “Are you positively sure doctor?”

“I am, I’ve been doing this for more than two decades and I can assure you these are birth control pills not folic acid. I suggest you speak with the person who was in charge of handling your medication.”

Liam and Riley share a knowing look. “Madeleine.” They mutter in unison. Madeleine was the one who was in charge of getting Riley’s supplements and vitamins. In Fact she herself insisted on it not even Riley’s assistant was allowed to get them. “I always knew that bitch couldn’t be trusted.” Olivia spat.

Suddenly Bastien barges into the room, starling everyone, a worried expression on his face. “Apologies for your majesties for barging in like this but something happened in the king's quarters.”

Liam jumps out from his seat, his heart racing. “What happened Bastien?!”

Bastien gives Liam a regretful look. “One of the staff went to the king's quarters to bring the prince his lunch and found the nanny laying on the floor in a pile of blood. She had been shot in the chest. And the prince, he is missing.”

**********

TRR/TRH @charliejane-blog @dcbbw @hopefulmoonobject @cmestrella @pixieferry @lodberg @traeumerinwitzhelden @romanticatheart-posts @gnatbrain @the-soot-sprite @texaskitten30 @ao719 @desireepow-1986 @emceesynonymroll @jessiembruno @kinkykingliam @jlpplays1 @annekebbphotography @thecordoniandiaries @rainbowsinthestorm @jessiembruno @leelee10898 @cordonianroyalty @lauradowning29 @msjr0119 @janezillow @heauxplesslydevoted @cordonia-gothqueen @kacie-0156 @bebepac @queenjilian @sanchita012

[mandivsman-blog]

11/27/2020

Speaking of being stupid. Someone has been trying to inch there way back into my life recently in a sneaky, immature way.

I haven’t developed feelings for many men in the past few years. I wasn’t particularly interested in relationships. Plus, I have so many options I was just enjoying my life and experimenting with different things. I was hyper focused on growth and what I wanted. Also, I was traveling a lot and wasn’t ready to include another person in my decision making. I think it was..August, I met this man, I refer to him as airforce (obviously he was in the airforce). Now, I wouldn’t normally date a person in the service. There’s a group subconscious in service men that well don’t jive with my ethics, and the people who know me know ethics are extremely important to me. He seemed different. He was from Montana, relatively quiet, brilliant, read constantly, and smoking fucking hot. Top 3 most attractive men I’ve dated. I mean, he was/is like irresistible to me. Handsome, nice lips (big for me), dressed well, 10/10 body, tattoos, awesome haircut (also big for me), and the most perfect Cock I have ever seen. When I say perfect cock, I mean, I wanted to photograph it and hang it on the wall. Sometimes, I would just hold it in my hand and look at it...look HARD. Now, he was extremely meh at the sex. Nice dick doesn’t automatically mean good at sex. He went for waaaaaayyyyy too long and he was big so sometimes I just grit and beared it until he was finished. But, he was a great kisser and cuddler. People don’t understand that kissing and cuddling after sex is just as part of sex for some people as the actual acts are.

Anyway, he planned amazing dates, was affectionate, successful, and he was an independent politically. That’s important to be in this age because the political climate is extremely black and white at the moment and being an independent shows me he didn’t let the military sub culture affect his decision making skills. A real free thinker.

But, alas, this man lied to me and after that, I was done. No back and forth with him. This is the 3rd time he’s tried to reconnect with me. The time before this current time, he reswiped me on a dating app and I answered and said “why”. He said blah blah blah, yatta yatta yatta. I wasn’t reading. At the end, he wanted to exchange information again so we could take more and I told him he was out of his mother fucking mind of which he ignored and tried to ask me how I was doing. I left him on read and went about my business.

Fast forward, about a month on so ago, out of no where he likes a few of my pics on Facebook. Then, a week ago, asks to follow my personal Instagram. I accept because, why not. Then, heart eyes some of my stories of which I leave on read. Finally, asks me “How are you?”

First off, if you’re a man doing this, stop it. Fucking stop it. Grow a pair and ask me what you want. What do you want? I have zero patience for this even though I suppose I do it somewhat.

Do as I say, not as I do, AMIRIGHT?

I’m 30 and I’m over it. To me, this behavior says “I’m casting out lines and waiting for something to bite”

This is humiliating to me. A man thinking that he can just come and go when he needs companionship is just, a fucking disgrace.

A man trying to make me one of several is also humiliating.

Like, boi, go get some bitches that hate themselves and throw that dirty ass dick to them.

To me, that situation ruins the sanctity of any type of relationship, even primarily sexual ones. He doesn’t care about any of them as human beings. He doesn’t want to improve or add to their lives. He’s just making sure HIS needs are met. He tells them whatever they want to hear. All he’s got is dick and hope. Most of the time, these types of men lie or omit this for fear of losing. Again, this lack of information limits the informed decisions that the woman’s make.

If she would otherwise prefer to not be with a man who is entertaining multiple women then the person lying about that is securing the relationship by deception.

Sounds to me like a pathetic, weak way to secure a relationship. Sounds exhausting. Sounds like eventually when the masks come off, the relationship will explode.

Now, going on other dates and being honest about it makes sure that there’s no bad energy on either side. Both parties can make informed decisions to what they want. Without that honesty, one person begins to care for a person who never really existed.

Maybe there’s women who are okay with a man they’ve developed feelings for building relationships and sleeping with other people. There’s a name for this, polyamory. If a person wants polyamory then that’s what they should seek, polyamorous people. Instead, they hope to trap and trick mono women into caring for them, gaslight them if the women bring up fears or concerns all in the hopes they don’t get caught. Hoping if they do get caught, a women dislikes herself enough that she believes she doesn’t deserve better and sticks around.

This behavior is not fair. And, if you’re a person who perpetrates this behavior, it’s not fair to you too. ThisBehavior limits the connection and security you can feel from people. It numbs and dulls the senses. Quality of life a person receives from their relationships diminishes. They won’t be satisfied with anything simple, everything will have to be complicated for their attention to be held. 

But anyway, Air Force is still like, deliciously hot but I do not forget what he did and I will not see him again. I accepted his follow request on insta and he keeps 😍 my stories and liking pictures. I only did that so he can take a look and realize, once again, he ain’t shit. Apparently, this is some type of language doing those things via social media.

Now, say, AF had messaged me and said something along the lines of “Hey, I’ve been thinking about you lately and wanted to know if you’d possibly want to reconnect? I’ve grown a lot this year and I think you’d like to get to know the new me.” Or some variation of “I’VE CHANGED AND I WANT TO SEE.” If that were the case I might bone a bone his way and grab brunch with him but he doesn’t have the plums to communicate directly OR he knows his intentions aren’t to reconnect but to fuck.

[treybriggsthewriter]

Introducing Vicious - Snippet One: Yoan

I realized that I’ve never actually introduced my story Vicious anywhere but Instagram and my website. That’s a shame. 

Vicious is a paranormal fiction written by Trey Briggs (me) with art by the amazing @the-vulgar-knight​ (Kokab Zohoori-Dossa). Notion, aka The Country, is a place that is steeped in violence, class wars, and a lot of ugly behavior. Underneath all of that is a rebellion... But not one anyone is used to.

You fight fire with water, after all. This first snippet is slow, but I think it introduces both the world and the current issues quite nicely. Once the Vicious site is ready, the longer version will be up. You can sign up for the mailing list at vicioustheserial.com, or see my other stories and such at maybetrey.com. I hope you'll love it and stick with us as we slowly build up to the serial release. Have a great day, loves

(Please note that I protect my copyright like a maniac. Do not repost, do not claim as your own, all that jazz. Thanks)

...

Vicious Snippet 1: Yoan Kendal

Nobody ever dies at the interviews. We're not allowed to behave the way the Boars do, our big men, our protectors. We have to sit back and smile, demure, saintly. I want more than anything to push my fingers into Lyria's eyes and squeeze until I send her into a black abyss of swelling blood and tissue, but I can't. Prima and all that. 

I sipped my beer in front of my wall-length bathroom mirror, practicing. I was a little horned girl once, you know — just a little horned girl with massive horns. Oh, I looked in the same mirrors that prove me beautiful today and saw a mess. A massacre of a girl. A loss. Horns stuck so far out to the sides that I had to turn my head to get through doors. The pity of it all!

Now, I fit quite nicely. They're not big; they're prominent. I practice easing into places just like I practice destroying Lyria's confidence with tiny jabs. You must practice for success.

"Lyria! You look lovely today, so much better than last week. Your hair is a bit dry, but that blouse?!" I turned and sucked in a gasp of admiration. 

"Oh, that blouse! That color is just a tiny bit faded. Would you like the number for my dry cleaner? They can bring anything back to life, even a shirt like that-"

"Get out already. You'll be late." Aba, my brute of a husband, lashed from the next room, probably picking some innocent animal from his teeth. I rolled my eyes, trying to connect my hands around my waist. My stomach, perfect as it is, felt a bit too soft. It was probably the beer.

"I will! I'm just preparing. You can't eviscerate someone like Lyria without practice." 

"She tears herself to pieces the minute she sees you. Don't need to do that." He walked up behind me, and the size of him, oh, his shadow swallowed my entire existence and then kept going. Lyria couldn't dream of a man like mine, not in her wildest imagination, and I let that fact sink into my smile. What fuel!

"You don't need to do that, you mean. We talked about this. Speak in sentences or don't speak at all."

I let him lift me, turn me, and then had to keep him from going any further. The man exists on sex and meat. I spend half my day patting his nose.

"You're right. I'll be late." He bit deep into my neck, maybe too hard, but I laughed and swatted at him. My horns, the two beautiful bones protruding from my hairline, they seemed so feminine and small with him there. Nothing could be big on me, not next to a Boar so thick, so menacing, so massive. There's madness in every movement he makes, sure, but oh, the man could decapitate a crowd by coughing. 

He gave me a nasty smile, the skin of some animal stuck to his teeth, and I made myself smile in return.

"Remember to speak with your daughter's teacher today. Don't kill anyone at her school. I won't have it," I cooed, rubbing his cheek. He sighed and pulled away. I waited patiently for confirmation.

"Understood." 

"And, just your daily reminder, don't kill my daughter. I only have one left, you will NOT take her as well. Understood?"

"Yes. I said yes." Aba stomped away, nearly taking the wall with him, but I just smoothed my hand over my slicked-back ponytail. It sat flat, sheen, and neat. 

Perfect.

The rest of my outfit came together nicely. I adjusted my lapel, trying to ignore my husband's growling in the other room. Oh, the man growls all day long, you'd think he had a condition! My breasts looked beautiful in my blouse, as usual, so I took a moment to eye them. Above everything, my horns stood prominent and regal. Not huge. Not ugly. Regal.

"I'm leaving. Please make sure my daughter is home before I am. She can have Junnie over if she'd like, Lyria would hate that." Aba disappeared down the stairs without another word, still angry. 

I hated the damned interviews, the radio shows, the podcasts, the vlogs. I just wanted to stay home and get pounded into a coma by my Prime Boar, get absolutely destroyed. 

But. 

If I get to destroy Lyria, well, isn't it worth it?

…

My father taught me to value strength and loyalty above all else. He showed me in his actions that real men, real Boars, they will protect you. You tell them what to do, and they'll get it done. I was so headstrong when he was around. And then I wasn't.

When my father died, I was a little damsel. Just a little horned girl with massive horns, ugly horns. They weren't regal back then. You don't want to be a girl with big horns. It's unseemly. It's too masculine. Children used to call me Bullhead, all those little snobs in my classes. You should've heard the other things they called me, the way they talked about me.

But Lyriiiiaaaa, beautiful little Lyria. We went to the same schools, you know? There are only a handful of prestigious schools in Notion, and we are Primas. She may act as if she's a normal woman on the same level as these disgusting, diseased, rotting horns that she loves to protect so much, but she's actually a Prima. You can see it in the way she moves. There's grace there. 

Lyria, her horns were always perfect. They still are. Aba may enjoy the way she tears herself apart when she looks at me now, the way they all do, but I see those horns. Perfection. Antlers! Going straight up! Bleach white! Can you believe that?!

Sure, I'm pathetic. I've come to terms with it. It's that old story, you know. Oh, the bullied becoming the bully. I'm okay with it.

They never thought I'd be here deciding their fates, did they? Lyria never thought I'd be a formidable enemy. And yet here I am. 

Making sure her loved ones suffer. Making sure they're all gone. 

…

Lyria, insufferable Lyria, always arrives everywhere late. It's a tactic. She wants to look busy and harassed. Really, she sits at home alone with her tiny Prime Boar son and her wonderful, beautiful, lovely daughter. She has zero social life. I haven't seen her date since her husband died hornless and babbling. Sure, she has all the research that she claims to be doing, but all those sick horns are still sick, and she's still just late.

By the time she walked through the door of the dinky old radio station, well, I'd already greeted the host and talked about my weekend! It worked in my favor. He adores me, and most of his talking points are in alignment with mine. I can barely remember the little man's name.

"Lyria! You look-"

"You're beautiful as always, Yoan. Let's get this over with." Lyria's words cut into mine, honest and genuine, and I pursed my lips to keep from smashing her skull open. Her black cloak looked like it was made on another planet, the darkness of it swallowing everything in the room. I tried to find a loose thread, a hole, something, but I was left just nodding my head and sitting down.

The little station could barely fit the small desk we all crowded around. She shook the little man's hand, waving for him to get started. Oh, busy Lyria, she had somewhere to be. 

While he introduced us, doing his usual spiel, I watched her. A dainty thing, just a severe little thing. Her hair was always just moist, just enough to make her look beach-ready. Her skin was supple; her makeup always perfect. Every expression she made felt like a calculation of the next one.

"We're here again today with two of the country's top Primas. Lyria Gorton, our Epidemiologist with the Notion Public Health Commission. We're honored to have you here again, Lyria." The man tried a smile, but Lyria just huffed.

"Thank you. Please proceed."

"Yes, I'm sorry. I'm sure you're needed elsewhere. And we also have Yoan Kendal, a prominent member of the Tivah National Party, and wife to Notion's superior Prime Boar." Lyria bristled. The less superior Prime Boar was her son, after all. I gave the man a dazzling smile.

"We're here to discuss the recent proposals by the TNP… to consider permanent quarantine, or euthanasia in some cases, for Horns sick with… with the Rot."

"Horn Rot. You won't catch it by saying it," Lyria grumbled, staring down at her nails. She sat up so straight, it made my back hurt. I leaned my head back to appear just a little taller.

"Right, excuse me, ma'am. Lyria, why don't you start the discussion? I know you're only here for a few minutes today, but it's impor-"

"We owe it to our citizens, our people, to do everything we can to cure Horn Rot. And if we can't, we at least owe it to them to provide comfort and empathy in their final days. My team is working around the clock to find a suitable-"

"Oh, your team!" I exclaimed, and the sharp way she looked up from her nails filled me with joy. "If your team wants to dig into the dead all day, let them! It's disgusting to ask the rest of us to risk infection for empathy." The little man lifted his pen to speak, but Lyria raised her hand, quick and final. The nerve of her.

"Empathy is all we have left. Horn Rot is spreading at an ugly rate, Yoan. We can't even figure out how it's transmitted. Are you going to exterminate entire cities? Whole schools? We're closer to a cure every day and-"

"If you were closer to a cure, you'd be in the lab with your team. You wouldn't be here trying to argue against preserving our species. I'm in alignment with the Tivahs when it comes to protecting the bloodlines of our clean citizens. We didn't do anything wrong, and there's no reason we should be subjected to illness and death. And the ones who are already sick should be happy to go to quarantine, to protect their people!"

"We don't have the funding for proper care in quarantine. They're shoved in there to sit in an empty room until death. It takes years sometimes. Do you really think that's the fate our loved ones deserve-"

"We're all adults." Lyria glared at me so intensely that I gave her a moment to breathe. Her supple skin bloomed red with anger, all that brown transforming into some other color altogether. 

How unlike her. I started to question it, but the little man tapped his pen on the table.

"Ladies. What are your thoughts on the proposal for higher funding for quarantine facilities?"

"Nonsense," I spat. "We need that money for our healthy horns." Lyria nearly growled, curving forward, her antlers heavy on her head.

"The Tivahs you love so much can't spare their yearly allowances for their own people?" 

"Not the ones that are going to die anyway, no. It's repulsive to ask that of our only clean bloodline. Every Tivah proves their worth with their unwavering health. They inspire our children! They-"

"I didn't realize bootlicking was a hobby of yours," Lyria spat back, and I could barely hold in my smile. 

"I can't be a bootlicker, Lyria! I'm the boot! I'm healthy, I'm successful-"

"Marrying a big man is not success."

"Wasn't it when you did it? Or does it not matter because he died?" We both stopped, and I chewed the inside of my mouth for a moment. What a crass thing to say. Oh, but it was so good. I kept my face and posture even, letting her sorrow sink into me. Lyria's eyes misted a bit, but she sat up straighter and kept talking to her nails. 

"He died because Horn Rot research was defunded for a year." Her voice came out slow and careful, all of her emotions stuck in some emergency bubble. Oh, she was losing. "Maybe if we cared more about our people, he'd still be here."

"Let's try to keep this civil, Yoan," the little man said, giving me a worried eyebrow. I nodded and tapped Lyria's chin, forcing her head up. 

"The point is, Lyria… there's a chance for a lot of us to avoid a painful and ugly death. I want to avoid it as much as possible. Can you honestly fault me or any other Horn for that?"

Lyria checked her watch. She fluffed her hair out. I let my pride swell as she tried to contain her anger, tried to transfer it to some other activity.

"What about the-"

"What about them," I groaned. "Why give funding to a bunch of warping bodies? Their horns will kill them, or their brains will rot. They will be in the ground sooner than later, dust, and then we wasted the money. We should focus on our healthy horns, especially the Primas and Prime Boars that might be out there-"

"That's what it's always about, isn't it? Primas. Primes. Do any of you care about the actual people you're supposed to represent? About the actual dying citizens? Do-"

"Why should we?" Lyria sucked in an angry breath and slammed her hand on the desk. The little man jumped, but I just stared at her. 

"Why? Ask my rotting daughter why, Yoan! Ask my little ROT! Or better yet, ask your dying fucking daughter!" She snatched her purse and nodded to the little man so viciously that he just coughed. We watched her and that anger swarm out of the room, the black cloak sucking every bit of air out of us, her antlers glowing through the dark hall. 

The man stuttered into the mic, wiping his forehead. "We apologize for the language used here today. Dr. Gorton has been under a lot of stress lately." He gulped, giving me a look. 

"Yes. She has. I'm sure the audience will forgive her." We sat stunned a moment more, and then he wrapped up the show. 

Oh. The way my body warmed at that anger. 

But... how unlike her.

…

I held my hips in triumph all the way to the car, walking slow, one small foot in front of the other, my head high. The joy wouldn't swell. I tried not to think of our dying daughters. 

"Ask your dying fucking daughter." What a line! What an absolute stomach punch! And so unlike her. Lyria, tight-lipped Lyria, lonely Lyria who probably had to fuck herself to sleep every night… I don't know. 

It's so unlike her. 

I stopped to watch her storm to her car, rage tucked in the waves of her cloak. 

It's unlike her. What are the first stages of Horn Rot? Not rage, I don't think. But still...

I shook the thought from my head and climbed into my car. 

My Lewish, my little survivor, she doesn't deserve to be brought into the same conversation as the other dying failures. As if my warrior would ever submit to quarantine. As if anyone would suggest it with my Prime Boar there to beat them into the ground. As if… so what? I've lost so many, who cares? Lewish is a smart girl. She always has been. If she can't survive some ugly disease, does she deserve to be here? 

The nerve of her, being sick. The nerve…

You know, it doesn't matter. 

I'm all out of strength to blame her for it, so I just pretend it's not there. 

I started the car and stared at myself in the rearview mirror. What a beauty! Oh, I may have to get a custom made car like the ugly girls, one that can fit my horns. I may have a daughter with horns growing from her hips, sharp and violent. Still, have you seen me? Have you heard me speak? Do you see the way the Tivahs, our royals, have you SEEN the way they dote on me?

Me! I was a little horned girl once — just a little horned girl with massive horns. And I looked in the same mirrors that prove me beautiful today and saw a mess. A massacre of a girl. A loss. 

And yet. 

Here I am.

....

Read more at maybetrey.com or on my Instagram!

[hannerd100]

Pitch For Nuisance Corporation Conglomerate Liberal Streaming Media And Satellite Television Channel TO ZAYN

Original written on Grammarly, which hackers know about.

 Hello Zayn. How are you? 

 I am a very busy person. I like to pretend that I observe nothing with meaning when I am fully aware of what is going on with all intricate details. These intricate details affect each other because of choices that people make that are fully conscious. I never got a college degree, consciously that I know of or can remember. I know very little about intuition, logic, common behavior to look for, and business because I was never formally educated consciously. I love marketing if you would like to know. I try to practice my brain skills every day. I want to mature and improve myself because I am motivated to an effective communicator who is also very witty. I like to get things done.

 A fact about me is that I am not scared of people. I do not have social anxiety because I am stronger than most people. I tell people what to do. I want to be a great boss someday. I want to impress those in power so I get better job offers because I want to become wise, too. I want to learn to become an adult from other real adults. This is a logical statement.

 The truth is, I made Nuisance Corporation about you, Zayn.  I always want to impress you, Zayn, because you are worthy of respect. You are mature for your age. You are responsible for Apple Incorporated, which is a famous and respected company for computers and technology. 

 I am obsessed with learning about the way you think. You help me a lot when I need you to comfort me. You give great advice. I rather talk to you so I can share how I feel about what bothers me. Your mind is like what I imagine what solitude should be like, but I want to be included in your thoughts. We belong together.

 I know I mean it when I say that you are the utmost masculine person I know, Zayn. Every move you make is always correct. You intelligently earned your money and are successful. You know the answers easily because you are very intelligent. You know every solution to all types of questions, I guess. What do you not know? You read me well. I look forward to seeing you again every day. I want to get to know you again. I miss you. I think you are capable of human emotions no matter how strong I describe you to be. I think you are the sexiest man alive. You are so brooding and handsome. You seem very antisocial in my favor. I like talking to you. I cannot wait to fall back in love with you. I want to be your wife. I know you're smart. I would donate trillions of dollars to your company for free because I felt like it. One day, I might earn a limitless amount of money so I guess I have a sense of humor after all. I get bored often because I am emotionally detached. You can have a blank check whenever you feel like asking me out. I might give you free money whenever you want to as an inside joke between us, as equals. I don't care what people think of me. I know I'm going to be successful. 

 The reason why I used the word you created that is based on your real name is because I think it protects us from people who do not like being told the truth. Being liberal means supporting gay and lesbian equal rights, ending Global Warming, and more. I never complain. 

 I am flirting with you, Zayn. I do not think you are annoying. "Nuisance" is a word that police take seriously. We need protection. There are a lot of creeps and weirdos out there. I am trying to be realistic in the real world. Fake or poser liberals threaten to kill people who are smarter than they are. There are a lot of cults out there, I heard. Besides social anxiety, some people type violent threats in words with a keyboard and post their sentences online, which is very scary to know about. The world is a dangerous place to live in. We should be fine. I want to make you trillions of dollars because I respect your work ethic as the founder of Apple, Incorporated.

 To avoid trouble, I plan to mock rich white men who are naive about the real world so that other race groups attack them more instead of me if they know who I am. If rich white men are criticized more than I am, maybe I will be judged less. 

 I am very manipulative. I predict and interpret behavior. Unlike weak people, I want to be respected without asking more than once. I do not ask to be respected. I want to earn respect, which is completely different. I want a guarantee that I will be respected and left alone forever after I make my first million, then billion, and finally one trillion dollars. I probably am already rich. I might be a trillionaire. It doesn't matter because they both will own the conglomerate. Zayn, your name is in the word "Nuisance". I was joking.

 An hour goes by and I feel closer to you, I hope. I am emotionally invested in you, Zayn. You are all I think about. I deserve to love you, Zayn. You are completely hot. I cannot stop looking at your face. You bring me so much happiness when you communicate with me. I enjoy asking you questions. You never stop being interesting to me, Zayn. You make me feel alive. I accept who I am when you compliment me by telling me that I am beautiful and funny. You are kind to me and I am indebted to you for helping motivate me to become who I want to be for you. I never grow tired of you because you are so different. 

 Now, after this long introduction, I can finally pitch Nuisance Corporation's Liberal Media Television Streaming App And Future Satellite Television Channel.

The Pitch:

 Today, an activity worth using energy for is watching television. Why? The reason why watching television can be beneficial for learning about the real world is because of trust. Propaganda may sound like an overdramatic word to ignorant people because it is more commonly witnessed than people know. The media and advertising industries distribute a form of legal propaganda. Propaganda has emotional appeals and tells people what to feel, think, and believe. Some people feel emotions too quickly. That is why propaganda is proven to work. For example, hunger. Advertisements that show pictures of food can make viewers hungry. Why else do people use coupons they get from their mailbox? I am telling the truth. A lot of people accept propaganda because they believe it caters to their needs instead of controlling them in a generalized, efficient way. Otherwise, the economy would not exist.

  The reason why propaganda is powerful is because it is a form of mind control. People who do not think for themselves rely on others to tell them how to live. These people are likely not confrontational or direct when they communicate. They might be codependent. They let people communicate for them, possibly. Naive people do not know how to be unique. They secretly want to be unique for attention, though, I can assume. This would be called an emotional appeal, "The desire to be unique." I think that people who wish are pathetic and have no work ethic. It is unrealistic to wish for anything. These types of people probably give up easily. If people want to become a better person, they have to change. If the world seems so evil based on a snippet of knowledge, there is always more evil in the world. The only equalizer on this planet is earning money. Financial income is what defines who the strongest is. The rest are weak and too busy wishing and hoping for the next day to prove who they want to become instantly. They waste time being egotistical and that is their problem. Nobody asks them for their approval because nobody believes them in the first place.

 I used to think I was worthless. I was always independent as a kid. Growing up, I had plenty of friends who understood my jokes. I never liked to be used but I allow people to attempt to use me because I know more people care if I get hurt. I never get hurt. I am a vengeful person and it is very easy for me to admit this fact. People offer their weaknesses to me when they get emotional and use me as an artifact or stepping stone to fail at getting the attention of someone they find more valuable than I am. I always know when people are trying to use me. I never offer help because nobody worthy asks me for advice. I assume the worst about people before they explain themselves because it wastes less of my time and effort. Now, I know I am worthy of respect.

 I was set up to get married to Zayn. He is a very successful genius man. We are happy together. I am lucky to be alive.

  Amongst my qualities, I know that I am a good writer. I used to suffer from schizophrenic vocal hallucinations and paranoia. I cured schizophrenia. I always know what sounds like my real voice in writing. I am cynical, skeptical, and quick to criticize anyone who annoys me. This is why I am a talented and award-winning writer. I write about interesting ideas and topics that are important. To start, I want to become a successful screenwriter who earns a lot of money. 

 With television, nobody is toxic because everything is approved by the Federal Communications Commission in the United States. People receive information from television programs with little knowledge of the sources of who wrote that material. They interpret information to themselves based on opinion in their brains on purpose without checking who wrote every line. When people watch television, it is as if suddenly they are allowed to judge.

 People need to thank the geniuses for inventing ways to protect everyone. For example, armies, police, F.B.I., C.I.A., and more are all invented by geniuses. Getting through the day would be easier if everyone normal had equal rights. Unfortunately, racism, sexism, homophobia, and more social issues exist in real life. World Peace is a dream of mine, to be honest. Microaggressions are irritating to encounter. I will answer society by starting a liberal media conglomerate that also emphasizes the importance of a healthy diet by selling organic food. Food can affect brains and thought processes. People who are healthier physically and mentally hopefully lead better lives.

 Stress can be caused by many factors. Not everyone is happy. The people at fault are those who and indulgent and selfish. Some people will never be good. The goal is to tolerate what scares people who are unaware of who is intimidating. Street smarts are a necessity to survive in the real world. When immature people who are sheltered try to arrange who is the most important or intimidating in their brains in an inaccurate and self-interested way that is illogical, they live a delusional life that slows down society. Immature people waste everyone's time. I rather input one hour of work that will benefit me for an entire year rather than talk about annoying people who do not know what they are doing with their lives. I want to make a difference.

 Fear and intimidation are what lead to a changing society. People never change. They only talk less and stop overreacting when people are around I can assume. Scaring people who are delusional and mean to everyone can help control society. Knowing about who people trust is how I can manipulate people, which is important to control a media corporation that is liberal. Trusting people easily is a sign of weakness. Nobody needs weaknesses, but they exist. Indulgence could be a sign that a person chose to be as weak as they possibly could when they realized that they had to work to earn respect and did not want to. When people think they are witty based on their own judgment, they have trouble reading other people's social cues due to their selfishness and narcissism. People who make people uncomfortable are not controlling or as dominant as they would like to be described. Allowing people to feel uncomfortable is a sign of wanting to be told what to do with little reward until the next time the weak person thinks they can control a situation. They want to be disciplined in front of an audience. This is annoying. I want society to reflect my gifts so I can make more money and live forever. Society is my tool for success. I can fix what cannot be fixed but only paid for. I want to treat society, which I consider royalty to me being a pauper, with my gifts.

 Love,

Hannah, his girlfriend.

[onaudiopost]

30 Years Later, ‘The Golden Girls’ is Still the Most Progressive Show on Television

“I had to write ‘Golden Girls’…I’ve never gotten excited about a network idea before, but this was compelling. I could write grown-ups.” — Susan Harris, creator of ‘The Golden Girls,’ September 1985

Picture it: Hollywood, 1985. The first episode of The Golden Girls airs, introducing the world to Blanche Devereaux, Rose Nylund, Sophia Petrillo, and Dorothy Zbornak. The show attracted more than 25 million viewers, becoming the highest-rated program of the week and consistently ranked in the top 10 sitcoms during its run. Over the course of seven seasons, the show racked up 68 Emmy nominations, 11 wins, and is one of only 4 shows in TV history whose principal actors all won Emmys for their roles. Despite Hollywood’s obsession with youth, The Golden Girls is still beloved by audiences thirty years after its premiere.

Beyond the fact that the show is extremely well-written and well acted (thanks to Bea Arthur, Estelle Getty, Rue McClanahan, and Betty White), The Golden Girls also stands out for being one of the last sitcoms where progressive values were part of the show’s DNA.

In an interview with Out Magazine, show creator Susan Harris explained, “We liked to tackle — not outrageous issues — but important issues. Things that I knew that people went through that hadn’t been addressed on television.” Harris was no stranger to shows that incorporated political story lines, having previously worked on Norman Lear’s groundbreaking All in the Family, and having written the historic abortion episode for Maude, which won her the Humanitas Prize — an award for film and television writing that promotes human dignity, meaning, and freedom. It is not surprising then that Harris brought this tradition to the writer’s room of The Golden Girls each week. The following are just some of the reasons why, after 30 years, The Golden Girls is still the most progressive show on television.

A Feminist Show

The very premise of The Golden Girls — four women navigating life after marriage and finding companionship in one another — is feminist in nature.While the women exchange quips and get into fights, the overarching message of the show focuses on the importance of chosen family, and women supporting other women. Further, we see the women enjoying life after marriage. Over the course of the series, we see the characters focus on career ambitions, new hobbies, and more often than not, their unapologetic enjoyment of sex. So much so that the blog Refinery29 recently tallied how many men each character slept with (naturally, Blanche had the most at 165). What made their love lives particularly important was the fact that television shows rarely portray older women as sexual beings.

The very premise of The Golden Girls — four women navigating life after marriage and finding companionship in one another — is feminist in nature.

“Television is always several steps behind life. When do you see passionate older people on television?” Susan Harris told The New York Times in a 1985 interview shortly after the show’s premiere. “There is life after 50. People can be attractive, energetic, have romances. When do you see people of this age in bed together? Eventually on this show, you will. It’s kind of pathetic that this show is television’s baby steps.’’

And the impact this had on audiences was clear. During an episode of The Phil Donahue Show, an adoring caller thanked guests Bea Arthur and Betty White for making her “feel 52 and gorgeous.” And the Winter 1989 issue of Media & Values magazine included survey responses from middle aged viewers of the show, such as one woman who responded, “I like this program because it gives me hope that there’s life after 50!” Beyond the message of female empowerment, the fact that the characters were older was significant in and of itself for the unprecedented portrayal of aging on television.

Portrayals of Aging

“Probably the single most effective product to come out of Hollywood in terms of turning around the cultural stereotypes about older women was the hugely popular and successful television show The Golden Girls in the late 1980s and early 1990s,” activist Ai-jen Poo wrote in her book Aging with Dignity. “Those four women, each with her own distinct history and personality…shattered the silence and the invisibility around aging in the most hilarious and endearing ways.”

While the entertainment industry pressures actresses to go to great lengths to maintain or restore their youth, The Golden Girls embraced aging and all the humor, wisdom, and vulnerability that comes with it.

This is evident in the episode “Rose Fights Back,” when Rose is cut off from her deceased husband’s pension plan and must find a new job. She is soon faced with age discrimination and the fear of not being able to make her rent. In a poignant scene, Rose discusses often seeing an older woman digging through the trash. She tells the other ladies, “I wondered, what did she do to get herself into a fix like that? I thought, well, she must be lazy, or she must be pretty stupid to let something like this happen to her. The truth is: she’s me.”

In another episode, Sophia makes a friend, Alvin, at the Boardwalk, but soon discovers that he has Alzheimer’s disease. She tells Dorothy, “people think if you live to be my age you should be grateful just to be alive. Well, that’s not how it works. You need a reason to get up in the morning and sometimes even after you find one, life can turn right around and spit in your face.”

While the entertainment industry pressures actresses to go to great lengths to maintain or restore their youth, The Golden Girls embraced aging and all the humor, wisdom, and vulnerability that comes with it.

Gay Rights

While the show’s message about women and aging is tied to its premise, The Golden Girls was often ahead of its time on other social issues. Twenty-four years prior to the U.S. Supreme Court’s historic ruling on marriage equality, The Golden Girls defended same-sex marriage before it was a mainstream position. In this episode, Blanche’s brother Clayton pays a visit and announces that he is engaged to his partner, Doug. In one scene, Sophia perfectly explains marriage equality to an upset Blanche:

In an interview with Vulture, show writer Marc Cherry recalled, “We were young writers, and we got to say a little something about gay rights and how gay people see themselves. It was about two men getting married, which is something people at the time didn’t talk about. And it was a really funny episode.”

Off the screen, the actresses were dedicated to advancing the cause of gay rights. At the height of the AIDS epidemic, which tragically hit the gay community, Estelle Getty was a staunch AIDS activist. In a 1989 interview, she explained, “I’ve been in show business all my life, and the majority of my friends are gay…A lot of my friends have died from AIDS.”

The show tackled the stigma surrounding AIDS head on in the episode “72 Hours,” and worked to counteract the myth that it was a gay disease or punishment. In the episode, Rose finds out she may have contracted the disease from an operation, and grows increasingly scared and angry. In one scene she exclaims, “This isn’t supposed to happen to people like me…I’m a good person!” Blanche argues back, “AIDS is not a bad person’s disease, Rose. It is not God punishing people for their sins.” The scene manages to be both humorous and raw.

Confronting Race

Much like the show did with gay rights, The Golden Girls confronted issues related to race in honest ways, rather than the imaginary “post-racial” interactions many sitcoms favor today. In one episode, Dorothy’s son Michael announces he’s getting married to Lorraine, a black singer in his band. The news causes Dorothy to cringe and cry out “Oh God,” but she recovers to explain that her race doesn’t matter. The scene portrays the complexity of prejudice, and dispels the idea that racism is something only “bad people” are guilty of — a recognition that is necessary in order to truly overcome prejudice.

Rarely is America’s complicated history with race woven into a sitcom storyline, much less as part of a white character’s backstory.

In another episode, we are introduced to Blanche’s “Mammy” from growing up, Viola Watkins. When Viola reveals that she had an affair with Blanche’s father, she explains, “In another time and place, we would have been married. But at that time in the South, it wasn’t an option.” The episode highlighted how often white children grew attached to their black caretakers, while underscoring the racial animosity that existed around them. Rarely is America’s complicated history with race woven into a sitcom storyline, much less as part of a white character’s backstory.

Disability Visibility

One subject matter that most television shows ignore altogether is disability. The Golden Girls, however, had multiple episodes revolving around characters with disabilities, usually as part of the women’s love lives. In these episodes, the women are forced to confront their own prejudices and misperceptions around what it means to be a person with a disability.

According to Lawrence Carter-Long, an expert on disability and media, “The best writing about disability focuses on character. Not a rehash of the same two-dimensional tragic or heroic movie-of-the-week stillness we’ve all seen a hundred times before.”

This sentiment is perfectly demonstrated in the episode “Stand By Your Man.” Blanche is nervous about dating Ted, a man in a wheelchair, played by Hugh Farrington, an actor who was paraplegic in real life. In the episode, Blanche gets past her prejudices and discovers that Ted is no different than anyone else, for better or worse. After learning that he has a wife, she says, “It never dawned on me that you could be a jerk in a wheelchair.”

In another episode, Rose is dating Jonathan Newman, a doctor at the grief center where she works. Rose is initially embarrassed to reveal their relationship because Jonathan is a little person, but she is determined to make it work. In the end, however, Jonathan breaks things off with Rose because she isn’t Jewish.

Fighting Poverty

Finally, as someone who does research and advocacy around fighting poverty, I am often frustrated by the myths and stereotypes that persist in film and television. The Golden Girls is not one of those shows. On many occasions, the show discusses poverty, but there is no better scene that demonstrates how well they did on the subject than in the episode “Have Yourself A Very Little Christmas,” when the ladies volunteer at a church to serve Christmas dinner to the homeless. They soon discover that Dorothy’s ex-husband, Stan, is among the people in need. The Church’s Reverend goes on to perfectly explain how poverty is an experience (rather than a moral failing, which is often the message), how public policy plays a role, and closes the scene with a direct jab at then-President Ronald Reagan:

REVEREND AVERY

You’d be surprised how many people are only two or three paychecks away from being on the street. The suddenly poor are all around us. Once you’ve been knocked down like that, it’s very hard to recover.

DOROTHY

What’s going to happen to all these people?

REVEREND AVERY

I don’t know. There’s no affordable housing, the rents keep going up and up, and the minimum wage has been held down.

ROSE

Seems so unfair.

REVEREND AVERY

Well, that’s because it is. There are three million homeless, hungry people in this country.

BLANCHE

What bothers me is, those people out there are being fed today because it’s Christmas, but what will they eat tomorrow?

REVEREND AVERY

When the great communicator talked about his vision of a city on a hill, I wonder if it included people sleeping on gratings in the street.

Over the past few years, many politicians have credited television for advancing their views on gay rights. And a growing body of research confirms that “as we grow emotionally attached to characters who are part of a minority group, our prejudices tend to recede.” In other words, television has the power to change the world. This makes what The Golden Girls accomplished even more critical. While the show wasn’t perfect on every issue, particularly on perpetuating hurtful plot lines around trans characters, The Golden Girls was an unapologetically progressive show. The show gave visibility to older women while using this unique platform to champion a number of progressive ideals that often go untouched by television shows. Not only is this level of progressivism unmatched on the small screen, the entire show was made possible by the understanding that older actresses have value and women can be funny.

The strength of the characters, the incorporation of storytelling, and punch lines delivered with a simple facial expression are among the many devices that make The Golden Girls one of the funniest sitcoms of all time. But it’s progressive message makes it one of the most important.

As a loyal fan, I’ll be celebrating the show’s 30th anniversary with my favorite episodes and a slice of cheesecake.

[republicstandard]

Arbeit Macht Goy

In our travelling circles the question of the value of labor has been finely discussed. There are even subjunctions of the movement entirely dedicated to its cause; you have National Socialism and National Bolshevism, with individuated parties ranging in size and scope. The Traditionalist Workers Party is the most notable example that comes to my mind.

More often than not, the analysis directed toward the question of labor is (unsurprisingly) one of critique and pragmatism. It is noted, with acuminous alacrity, that a man’s identity is tied into and integral with what he does. It could be further said that a man *is* what he does. The main problem with this associative thinking being that when a man is, say, robbed of his work or his lot, than he shrivels up and blows away in the industrial gust.

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That, obviously, is a serious concern. To that end, many of our guys have, with beneficent intent, stipulated that man must have a core identity beyond mere work and lot. A man may work, he may be married, but he is more than that. One would, I think, be a fool or the worst kind of AmCap to legitimately and unironically argue that point.

However, there is an opposite side to that coin. In the wake of Modernism, in the wake of Post-Modernism and the increasingly futile isms that have come in their wake you delve increasingly, and by necessity, into the reactionary realm. I do not use the word flatteringly. In this case reactionism is a harmful influence, for it causes a pendular effect on the White psyche in which decidedly extreme outcomes are repeatedly traded in an utterly futile attempt to reclaim the now forgotten center.

You cannot reclaim the center from the extremities. You have to, and follow this revolutionary thought Brothers, meet it in the middle. What is the center? It is balance, equanimity, stability and consistency – overall. The center is not a particular ideological component beyond the necessity of having an even keel to retreat to, if for nothing more than to formulate your direction and directive. The center is a state of being. It is one of the major contributors to the formation of a lasting Folk Soul which have all been robbed us.

In the life of an individual man there are a collective of passing achievements that God or Nature, or Nature’s God have conditioned him to measure his worth and progress by. A man should have a stable, productive and contributory job. A man should have a stable, productive and cooperative marriage. A man should have a stable, positive influence in his selective community. These fulfill basic sociological needs as imposed by Maslow’s Hierarchy; they should also satisfy the ego of those who tout “common sense.” (As if there were such a thing.)

Evolution inclined man to labor. To the same degree that ideologically, society is owed the artist and philosopher, society is likewise owed structurally to the workingman. The workingman is the Greek Atlas to Rodin’s Thinker. The Workingman with his hands has built everything. I may begin with the house in which you sit, the chair upon which you read this article from. If you sit in your car and read this on a phone, the end is the same. There should be a degree of glory involved in the realization that we, workingmen, build the physical trappings of the world.

Of course, you may enter tragedy. The workingman is a slave to the capitalist system. There is little way around this. Unless you are some (((magnate))) of some kind or other, you are a slave. Even the (((magnate))) is a slave, for their worth is wrapped up in the acquisition of shekels. Your skills are utterly neglected: society refused to acknowledge the contributions of the worker. He has no respect. On the basic, preconscious sociological level, the implications cannot be overstated. A man who works with his hands uses his body. His entire physical being is his primary tool.

I am a carpenter. I enjoy decidedly real aches and pains – they are the primary reward for my efforts. Men who toil, they hurt. And pain, in the long term, can erode you. It can wear you down. When you go to bed in pain, and wake up in pain; day in and day out, come spring and winter gone, in pain, you begin to lose your sense of humour. A clever man like himself reminds himself that this pain makes him stronger, that he is better off than soft-palmed weaklings. And this is true, I endure what lesser men recoil at. An injury that would make me grunt, I have seen stop weaker men for the better part of a day. Workingmen are a breed upon themselves.

Yet, no credence is given to this. Our strength and our endurance have no merit in a victimocracy, nevermind the pain. Society values transvestites. Society values visible minorities of every stripe. The workingman knows his blood and sweat have paved the way for this pathetic spectacle. His efforts contribute to that mess. His taxes, the token of his hard work robbed by a greedy, filthy and unquestioning monetary (((system))). And what does the (((system))) do with his wealth? Redistribute it, of course.

There is no amount of niggling, dickering, mansplaining or Boomer TALKING LOUDER THAN THE OTHER GUY AND REMINDING HIM HOW WRONG HE IS EVEN THOUGH HE HASN’T SAID ANYTHING BECAUSE MIGHT IS RIGHTing that will change the fact that this is true, and proponents of welfare statery are wrong to imply their will in the form of such taxes without consent… and certainly without representation.

So the workingman shrinks into an abyss of ingratitude. He becomes angry, bitter, cynical and despondent, effete, and flagrant. Why wouldn’t he? He must put his body on the line to support a world that certainly neglects him, if it doesn’t outright hate him. After all, the White Workingman can count on this: to at some point hear about the evils of White “Supremacy,” White “Privilege,” and White “Advantage” while the blisters inside his calloused hands are festering, his knuckles bleeding and his migraine quite throbbing. He looks at his gnarly hands where his hard earned money should be, sees an ungrateful indigent in his mind that the government saw fit to redistribute his wealth to for “social justice.”

It is easy for the workingman to despair, in this world. If the White Workingman protests he is met with the battlecry of the Eternal Boomer which sounds a little bit like this: “I don’t care if you’re Black, White or Purple if you come here, speak English and work!” Yes. Work. The Workingman knows his lot becomes increasingly harder because of immigrant labor. He knows that his wage will probably be cut someday to keep that edge against the invading foreign, colored hoards. Yet he is preached to by a generation that has secured their existence and doesn’t have to fear so much the colored hoard they invited. If the workingman is clever he sees the irony in the infinite repeat of history that tells the story of a bloated fiscal oligarchy that is destroyed by the foreigners they invited to line their own pockets.

Of course, the ignorant generation that will not see the plight of the younger is not safe in their hubris. The multicultural virus will spare no man. I shall tell you a tale that haunts me even as my callous crusted fingers press the keys that make this article. My Grandfather worked. He worked until he retired. His wife died, he remarried. By all accounts, he was a damned good American. He followed the rules. He donated a fair sum of money to civic causes he believed in. When he was young, he had served in the United States Navy. He had worked as an engineer. I am told he had passed several patents. But like many American he had his stresses. The long and short of it was this, his wife, when he developed Alzheimer’s, condemned him to nursing homes. And this I shall never forget: I went to visit one day. And there are days you know you’re in for trouble, sixth sense, if you will. Nurses were moving in on a scene. And there they were, huddled around my grandfather. His forehead was bleeding. He was hollering: “take me to the Embassy! I am a United States Citizen and I have rights! I don’t know what country this is, but I want to go home!” Oh, the mystery! The nurses all cobbled and cawed as I arrived. “What does he mean? I don’t understand!” I knew. It was obvious to anyone who isn’t a brainless shill. The nurse closest to him was blacker than coal, with space alien dreadlocks, and if she was capable of uttering a complete thought with proper English diction… she wasn’t. What was there to question? When you give a man with dementia a creature that in his honest mind doesn’t look quite right, like a foreigner than you will have a confused man! Astounding.

I have other stories in my arsenal, but let that be a lesson to White Men who think that their defensive posturing to the ‘moral’ authorities on race and relations will save them in the end… it won’t. Our (((greatest allies))) will make sure the last things you see are things you won’t. They will rob your pensions, destroy your retirement – they will then pay for the third world nurses that neglect you in a nursing home you didn’t choose.

Diversity, I’m told, *is* our greatest strength.

I’d ask my Grandfather, but I can’t, because he is dead. But you’re not dead, and theoretically, neither am I. So what do we do with all this depressing truth? It is something to bear in mind, something to help us keep track of all the factors. When some moron with a caved in head entertains the favourite American pastime of feigning ignorance to avoid the plight of being thought to agree with you, you may remind them why the worker suffers. Tell them stories. It might not make a difference, but we can’t let these pixie-faced, limp-wristed know-nothings get away thinking there’s absolutely no reason for a problem. Because they will – if you let them.

We are American Citizens. We have Rights. We will, all of us die. Some at home, some in a home, others, hell, at work. But we have a right to die in America. What did my Grandfather do to deserve feeling like he was abandoned to a third world country?

The average workingman today, though, has no overarching purpose. He did not see the bright, White America my Grandfather knew. So he passes his time for the reasons we have discussed, in indignity. Maybe he copes with alcohol, or drugs. I am told that the Opioid Crisis has reached unparalleled proportions. A comrade of mine by the name of Emil Kraepelin goes to distinct lengths to dispel the myths and educate our guys regarding this plight.

One of the major problems in the laborial sphere is a sense of manifold purposelessness. It is part and parcel with the blackpill phenomenon. You work for people with more money than you to give them things you can’t have. It is a sense of backwards thinking, the fault of early education and a poorly managed modern culture.

Here is my advice to White Workers. Keep this in mind. Learn a skill, learn a trade. You’ll have to start small. You’ll have to weather insult and injury. Keep heart. If the American Dream is ever going to be ours, than we have to start collecting bargaining chips. We need to do that now. The reasons for this are as diverse as the reasons for being depressed. If you learn a practical skill: carpentry, masonry, plumbing, wiring, than you become more solvent. The eternal call for working revolt has never changed. Without us, what would all the pampered, rich and effeminate do, exactly? Here’s a scenario: without leeching off our skill, the rich would die of sepsis in crumbling mansions that they can’t fix, squatting in a shallow hole they dug themselves because they couldn’t fix the plumbing. They would be reduced very quickly. They owe us, dearly.

The present system in which we live will not last forever. It cannot, by definition. When infinity immigrants have finished crippling the labour economy and all that’s left is coding… you will still have your skills. There will unquestionably be other citizens in a position to need you. And, if, God(s) willing we of our persuasion ever achieve a degree of separation… we won’t much be able to survive on coding, computers and being a generic Millennial or Zoomer, will we? No. Civilization is a complex organism that needs every single skill we have to maintain any modicum of resemblance to the comfort and complexity it presently yields.

Unless you want #VargNat now.

You learn a trade. If you’re good, you can go to work for yourself. It may not be immediate, and you might lose a little at first, but any degree of independence makes a difference. That independence makes a difference in your life. Working for someone else can eat your soul. Work for yourself? It’s a gamble. In the current year, there are no guarantees. But if you make a successful business name for yourself, you can hand that off to your children someday. That used to be part of the European Dream. Families inherit from familial progress. It is not impossible to reclaim that. I don’t think any of our ancient cultures ever intended us to live hand to mouth at the will of a globalist agency because ‘muh capitalism.’

If in mass numbers the Nationalists reading this began to take their own reins, rather than being self-hating service workers, became plumbers, electricians or what-have-you than we could, as a movement, increase pour capital gains. We could become self-sufficient. Right now, our bread comes from ZOG. Why is this bad? You know (((why.))) You place five of our guys in one County: one of them is a carpenter, one of them is an electrician, the other three are generic Millennials and Zoomers. The carpenter and the electrician can build business names independently, and even start to work together. Carpenters frequently call on electricians as subcontractors. Those other three chuckleheads? Why not hire them as apprentices. Now you have five of our guys collecting shekels directly, rather than having them handed off by some retarded system job.

Those same five guys, if the SHTF scenario ever happens, would be better off. They not only have friends, but vital skills. With their money they can support our causes. As our numbers grow tighter and larger, we can call on our guys, rather than some guy. That means money will begin to stay with us. This is important because the ability to hold onto material wealth is integral to any cultural reform. Skill and finance are bargaining chips much harder to resist than tattoos and memes.

But more than that, returning to the original point of this article, labour is part of a man’s identity. If you haven’t been proud of something you built with your hands, I’m sorry my friend, but you haven’t lived. I think I shall you another anecdote or two in this vein before I sign off and go make myself and my wife some bacon and eggs.

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On a job site, another client, brother to the one we were working for, came to visit. He talked a while before addressing me. “I wanted to save the work for you, because, you know, you’re so goddamn strong.” I couldn’t help but smile, and he went on to say, “ah, I’ll never forget seeing you carrying that big fucking rock up the hill. Nobody else could’ve moved it!” I won’t lie, and I don’t care if it marks me guilty for the sin of vanity. It feels good to know in some cases that my name precedes me. He’s told the story to others, I’ve heard him do it (while I was carrying big beautiful rocks.) On another job I did for a relative, there was concern moving this and that and the guy that hired me said, “don’t worry about the weight, this one’s stronger than an ox.”

So it goes.

It all brings us back to the Havamal. Cattle Die, and so do Kinsmen – God(s) know anyone over age 20 has seen more death than they care to. But we know what does not die: the name of a good man dead. I know that I want to be known as a keen philosopher when I die, but I shall settle for being another Sisyphus.

To a degree, pride cures pain. Knowing my work is appreciated, it makes it worth the while. Knowing my deeds are worthy of someone else’s time in the form of a story told to strangers (to me) is an incredible ego boost. That is why we are supposed to work: our skills are pooled into larger projects and our endeavors are to be respected. Our strength and skill are to be respected. We are not just workers and helpers. Without us, your service economy would have nothing to house it, your wealth would evaporate, and you would most likely not be here to undervalue us.

Something to think about.

from Republic Standard | Conservative Thought & Culture Magazine http://bit.ly/2OYUFbm via IFTTT

[republicstandard]

Australia's Invasion Day: What Does This Actually Mean?

Ash Sharp Editor

Australia Day is a national holiday in which Australians historically have joined together in summer to enjoy a long weekend with the celebration of traditional Aussie customs such as atrocious beer, grilled kangaroo, and domestic violence.

There's a lot going on in Australia lately. A long-running discussion about Aboriginal rights has, of late, taken a wider identitarian turn.  On Jan. 26, 1788, Captain Arthur Phillip landed in Sydney Cove, near where the famous Opera House was later built, to establish a penal colony. This is the date commemorated by Australia Day, and thus the target for the so-called 'Invasion Day' protests.

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Some of these protests demand change from the Australian government and action on the Uluru Statement From The Heart, a document put together by a concordance of Aboriginal leaders in 2017 which was rejected by the Australian Government in favor of recognizing Aboriginals in a constitutional amendment. Other protests are quite different in origin.

I love my country, I love being Australian, I celebrate being Australian almost every day. I do not celebrate it today. Today my heart is with our indigenous brothers and sisters and all the pain and turmoil they have suffered #InvasionDay 🖤💛❤️ pic.twitter.com/TfHer7kr6s

— Jona Weinhofen Ⓥ (@jonaweinhofen) January 25, 2018

The Aboriginal elder Tauto Sansbury told a small crowd in Adelaide that recognizing the hurt caused by celebrating on the day the first fleet arrived must be the start of a wider conversation.

“People have said there’s other issues to deal with, well no there’s not,” he said. “This is the first one that breaks down the barriers. Then we can move on to all of the other things that are not right for Aboriginal people.”

Perhaps Mr. Sansbury is right, and the future is in changing the date of the celebration of Australia as a concept to another. Alice Springs Councillor Jacinta Nampijinpa Price disagrees.

"Let’s be honest about where the argument to change the date comes from: a place of resentment, anger and now hate. The vitriol that has been directed at me, as an Aboriginal woman, for voicing my opinion and for encouraging a healthier way of thinking, has been far, far worse then any alleged racist sentiment claimed to come from the celebration of Australia Day.

Is changing the date some kind of quick fix to obscure the failure to solve our real problems? Symbolic acts have no meaningful impact on Australia’s most marginalized, so why then are so many so happy to invest vast amounts of energy into a meaningless symbolic act?

It is a pathetic attempt at appeasing resentment, anger, and white guilt."

Tarneen Onus-Williams of the "Aboriginal Nationalist" group Warriors of the Aboriginal Resistance said

"F..k Australia, hope it burns to the ground.

People who celebrate Australia Day are celebrating the genocide of aboriginal people, waving Australian flags in our faces. It’s disgusting.

We don’t want the date changed. We don’t want to celebrate Australia Day at all."

Tarnee Onus-Williams

You might say Ms. Onus-Williams sounds like a bit of an extremist and generally I would agree. This week she called 3AW Radio host Neil Mitchell a "racist" for the slight of asking her if it was appropriate to use the state-funded Koorie Youth Council (headed by Onus-Williams herself) to use public money to promote 'Invasion Day' rallies. She also does not believe that White people's law applies to Aboriginals, which as I gather is a common sentiment among fringe groups.

For those questioning the genocide of the Aboriginal people, we must accept that there are technical grounds for her words. Between 1910 and 1970, up to 100,000 Aboriginal children were taken from their parents and put in white foster homes. According to the United Nations 1951 definition, this counts as a genocide. Granted, it's hardly gas chambers or Rwanda, but it was a messed up time regardless- with the youngest of these people still very much alive and part of society.

There's clearly a lot of work to go on between White people and Aboriginals to smooth things out. While I would make no apology for the rights of the descendants of the settlers, if Aboriginal people are indeed being treated unfairly in Australian society- that's a topic of discussion for Australians. What shouldn't be on the cards is the weaponization of this topic to advance agendas that are insurrectionist in intent. This is exactly what has happened in this 'Invasion Day' Movement. There will always be a conflict of interests between racial groups, and what interests me most is how opportunistic leftist ideologues capitalize on these issues, again and again.

This one leads me to many questions. As Bill Warner explains, Hijra is the Jihad of Migration.

There is no common motivation for Muslims to support the rights of Aboriginals on religious grounds, but there is plenty to be gained from supporting identitarian movements that target White Australians. I do wonder what would happen if magically those troublesome Whites were evaporated from Australia. Would the interests of Islamists and Aboriginals still align under those circumstances? The other assessment I draw from this image is that again, we witness the alliance between Islam and the Hard Left authoritarians in the field of social politics.

White man 1: “so silly that they wanna change the date” White man 2: “I know right?? I like Australia Day being where it is. Screw catering for everyone” Yeah, but nah. I’d hate for everyone to get a celebratory holiday for the death of my family. #fuckedup #InvasionDay

— Sanie 🤘🏼🇵🇸 (@ArabAussiePunk) January 27, 2018

The oddity of course here is that people of non-White descent who follow a religion of conquest are now also Australians, but feel no allegiance to the nation-state that allowed them to become citizens. Rather, the stain of benefitting from the government of the oppressor is shrugged off. This time, the more recent immigrants are on the side of the people who are complaining about historical immigration.

ABC's Indigenous Affairs editor Stan Grant, himself of both settler and Aboriginal ancestry, approaches the truth with caution.

Australia Day feels angrier. It is a defiant flag in a window and a flag on fire at a protest. This is our age; what the Indian writer Pankaj Mishra calls "the age of anger". We prize identity more than citizenship.

Grant does hit the nail but is too confused in his blog post to strike it cleanly. Identity is indeed becoming more important than citizenship, as lines in multicultural societies are cracked open along religious and ethnic lines. A civilizational clash, so to speak.

Those who tack too close to the other side of the conflict are brought down by a storm of racist slurs.

Uncle Tom is a racist slur @EricHardcastle #auspol https://t.co/yECmdLZMGB

— Nyunggai W Mundine (@nyunggai) January 27, 2018

Are we allowed to call people like that coconuts?

— Unreality Enthusiast (@manbearcat) January 27, 2018

Warren Mundine is an Aboriginal advocate and successful businessman. His book teaches the value of self-determination and warns against victim culture. As he writes:

After the 1967 referendum, Aboriginal people started to receive equal pay across the board through a combination of changes to laws and industrial decisions over about a decade. For some regional industries, like the pastoral industry, this meant a huge jump in expenses. Most Aboriginal people in those industries had never actually received equal wages. Instead of getting a pay increase, they lost their jobs and were kicked off their lands. The pastoralists lost a cheap source of labor and weren’t willing or able to pay them full wages.

At the same time, Aboriginal people gained rights to government benefits, which previously they weren’t entitled to. So those who lost their jobs became full-time welfare recipients... Ultimately, the key to tackling long-term unemployment among Aboriginal people is the same as for anyone else. You have to address long-term welfare dependency.

For these radical ideas, Mr. Mundine has been called Uncle Tom -which makes no sense at all unless you recognize the globalist leftist movement as in some sense monolithic- and coconut; brown on the outside but white on the inside. Yes, an age of anger indeed. You must obey the perception of what radicals say is your racial interest, or you are a traitor. How can any society stand such flagrant bigotry against examples of success? Mr. Mundine's book is available here. I highly recommend you buy a copy, I have.

Here lies the issue. When the system is shown to be quite accepting of people provided they are willing to work hard and not give up despite adversity, this breaks the narrative. But whose narrative is it?

Frequent readers of these pages may already recognize where I am going to point the finger. Where does this anger spring from? I have suspicions. The rhetoric used is all too familiar to me, and to my former allies on the Radical Left. We can surely recognize that society is not perfect or that unfairness occurs without demanding the entirety of society be overthrown. That is madness.

Across the spectrum, on this issue, the same narrative is deployed in every nation founded by Europeans. Colonialism is the worst thing to ever happen, and it's because of that the indigenous people need to be protected from the society the White Man built. Because the personal fortitude exhibited by men like Warren Mundine breaks the socialist's framing of the world, the world must be redrawn along racial lines in order to sow division further.

It’s intrinsically about conflict, tearing down the old, using activism to impose your views on society. And don’t play the victim card with me when this whole campaign to change Australia Day is founded on perpetual victim hood.

— Bodywise (@BodwiseLisle) January 26, 2018

Thomas Sowell found the crux of this flawed mentality.

In the half century between 1945 and 1995, black Americans' raw test scores rose by the equivalent of 16 IQ points.

In other words, black Americans' test score results in 1995 would have given them an average IQ just over 100 in 1945. Only the repeated renorming of IQ tests upward created the illusion that blacks had made no progress, but were stuck at an IQ of 85. But we would never have known this if some researchers had not defied the taboo on studying race and IQ imposed by black "leaders" and white "friends."

Note well. Black intellectuals reject utterly the idea that non-White people cannot succeed in White nations. The idea that this is the case is an idea promoted by Neo-Marxists who wish to see the fall of Western Civilization in totality, in the vain hope that a socialist society will rise in its place. The racial causes championed by these radicals are mostly cat's paws. Once the bourgeoisie is finished, the ideological purging will begin again, regardless of how black you are.

The Neo-Marxist left is a global movement that is linked by recognizing very vague principles, like the equation of Whiteness with 'privilege' and, therefore, Capitalism itself. To fight Whiteness is to fight on the side of the good guys against the Evil Empire, so it goes. This mentality is unbelievably facile, but so open in interpretation that it can be applied to any situation where the blame can be laid at the feet of Whitey and/or Capitalism, which as previously stated, just means White People.

This makes it possible for British transgender mixed-race model and known racist Munroe Bergdorf (what a title!) to hold several conflicting ideas at once. I'm using Bergdorf as an example as there are few people who are so vehement in their overt ideological stances. Rest assured, Bergdorf is merely saying what a great many Neo-Marxists genuinely believe.

Bergdorf sees no conflict in having this as a pinned post in which she says;

"Don't let other people define you your identity is integral to creating change in the world"

"Don't let other people define you..." @i_D 😉 pic.twitter.com/WEl2S2H4uA

— Munroe Bergdorf (@MunroeBergdorf) December 20, 2017

This concept does not extend to Whites. White identity is toxic in nature. Bergdorf shows this to be her true opinion when she said;

"Honestly I don't have energy to talk about the racial violence of white people any more. Yes ALL white people."

One more time. Racism is a system that ALL white benefit from. Nobody is above or exempt. Regardless of how non-racist u consider yrself. Nobody is exempt from social conditioning or systemic racism. You can unlearn and be an ally but that doesn't mean you don't benefit from it.

— Munroe Bergdorf (@MunroeBergdorf) January 24, 2018

Finally, Bergdorf makes strong statements in solidarity with Aboriginals.

In solidarity with Indigenous Australians today. Austrailia Day is a cruel and white supremacist holiday. Call it what it is #InvasionDay #Genocide. Austrailia is stolen land. I stand with you. pic.twitter.com/ADdtD6PJ6w

— Munroe Bergdorf (@MunroeBergdorf) January 25, 2018

In solidarity with Aboriginal Australia ✊🏾✊🏾✊🏾✊🏾 #InvasionDay pic.twitter.com/bzBkzRwLN4

— Munroe Bergdorf (@MunroeBergdorf) January 26, 2018

Naturally, when it is pointed out that Bergdorf is in fact a racist the victim card is deployed. Land rights only matter when the newcomers arrived 250 years ago and are White. This is a consistent aspect of racial advocacy.

Angry white people calling for me to be deported... LMAOOOOOOOO. Deport to where?! The entitlement.

— Munroe Bergdorf (@MunroeBergdorf) October 13, 2017

The flaw in the logic is clear, for which we must thank Bergdorf for being so open. The only possible reason for Bergdorf and her ilk to say such things is that they are in fact Hard Left racist activists themselves. If Australia is indeed "stolen land" and "always was, and always will be aboriginal", then Sweden always was, and always will be Nordic. France for the Gauls. Poland for the Polish. Europe: Always was an always will be European land.

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Twitter user Old Holborn cuts straight to the point.

Interesting new approach from the left. "no immigration, no diversity, fuck multiculturalism" https://t.co/dchW4TbxEr

— Old Holborn✘ (@Holbornlolz) January 26, 2018

So it would certainly appear to all who are not far left fanatics. It cannot be reasonable to demand diversity and multiculturalism in one moment and then advocate for an ethnostate when it suits. Yet, this is where we are with the modern leftist. Western countries may not have borders, borders are for Nazis. 'Nations of Color' must have the right to expunge the Whites from their land. The press will ignore or support these ideas, as it can only be ethnic-cleansing when Whites do it. The double standards expressed by the left will, either intentionally or not, further deepen racial tensions. It is happening already, as White people are discovering a racial identity politics that is not actually racist at all.

Despite being told that Whiteness is toxic for several decades, the descendants of Europe have shown fantastic politeness and restraint in the face of severe problems brought about by migration- to the point of near certain demographic suicide in some nations. It is thanks to overtly racist activists like Bergdorf, Tarneen Onus-Williams and their American analogs such as Shaun King that racial consciousness is even a topic among Whites- particularly when it comes to the perception of racial bias against White people. As Michael I. Norton and Samuel R. Sommers discovered;

We asked 417 black and white respondents to assess how big a problem anti-black bias was in America in each decade from the 1950s to the present. We then asked them the same questions about anti-white bias — the extent to which they felt that racism against whites has changed since the 1950s.

Black and white Americans both thought anti-black bias had decreased over the decades. Whites saw that decline as steeper and more dramatic than blacks did, but the general impressions of the trend were similar for both races.

When asked about anti-white bias, though, black and white respondents differed significantly in their views. Black respondents identified virtually no anti-white bias in any decade. White respondents agreed that anti-white bias was not a problem in the 1950s, but reported that bias against whites started climbing in the 1960s and 1970s before rising sharply in the past 30 years.

When asked about the present-day United States, a striking difference emerged. Our average white respondent believed that at the time of our survey in 2011, anti-white bias was an even bigger problem than anti-black bias.

The entire concept of the Alt-Right or modern identitarianism is a product of Hard Left racist activism. I would argue that in the United States this trend towards Whites feeling victimized is only likely to continue, particularly with 5 more years of the Obama administration to come after this survey. From the events surrounding Australia Day, we can see a mirroring of the race-politics that were deployed by Neo-Marxist groups like Black Lives Matter so perhaps the path is a similar one. Perhaps Australia is priming to be made great again.

Institutionally, Australia now seems set for achieving the exact opposite of what diversity measures are set out to achieve.

Dr. Tim Soutphommasane is Australia's Race Discrimination Commissioner. in 2016 he wrote the following piece for ABC entitled "Is Australia a Racist Country? On the State of our Race Relations."

Our immigration program is now one that makes no discrimination on racial grounds. The status of citizenship is open to all members of Australian society, regardless of their ethnic background or national origin.

This does make it hard to sustain the view that Australian society is irredeemably racist. It is hard to square that assessment with our reality and celebration of cultural diversity. About 28% of our population was born overseas; another 20% are the children of migrants. Public acceptance of diversity and multiculturalism is also strong and robust. The Scanlon Foundation's social cohesion survey in 2015 found that 86% of Australians believe that multiculturalism is good for the country - a level that has been consistent the past three years.

None of this should be taken to mean that racism is not a problem. Unfortunately, it still is.

Dr. Soutphommasane goes on at length to talk about representation in the media and the problems caused by a perfectly reasonable suspicion of Islam.

As he focuses on relative minutiae, he misses that the very concept of diversity quotas or the granting of special privilege to religious groups is anathema to a free society. Despite all the evidence that Australians are hugely non-racist, he sees his role -as many other left-wing academics do- to stamp out racism, among white people in particular. As bigots will always exist, one cannot make such an impossible quest happen without resorting to tyranny.

This is not to say bigotry for the sake of bigotry should be acceptable, but the path Australia has taken is no more effective at improving race relations than electing Barack Obama was in the United States, or the ascension of Sadiq Khan in London.

Representation is meaningless if you simply supply access to power to leftists because they call you a racist if you don't. It never works the way it is thought to do by anyone except- drum roll please- leftist ideologues.

Councillor Price, who we met at the top of the article, is completely correct. Invasion Day is an exercise in appeasement. If Australia Day is changed, it is a small victory for the leftists who move onto another topic, emboldened. If the calls are ignored, the leftists still win- they can come back next year and the year after. Forever. The ideological roots of this movement belong to Mao, Stalin, and Pol Pot. These people, of many races and backgrounds, are part of a long march of their own- like a virus, the ideology of Communist thought crosses the generations, seducing the young with stories of noble rebellion against imperialist devils.

If Australia is to resolve the issue of Aboriginal identity, first the topic of Hard Left Neo-Marxism must be addressed. Without this resolution, the divisions in Australia will only grow deeper. As I have shown, Australia is not a racist country, by the admission of Aboriginal leaders and the Race Discrimination Commissioner. What it does have a problem with are hardcore ideologically motivated leftist radicals. That is the true invasion of Australia.

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