#authoritary

[floating--goblin]

you know what hill i'll die on? terzo is not the sluttiest emeritus

I mean sure, he's the most dramatic and the most outspoken about sex, and he gave us Mummy Dust which is its own discussion-- but I sincerely don't see him, in his private life, being so promiscuous. Like out of all of them, I'm the most certain Terzo would be either monogamous or have a few regular partners at most, but I don't think he'd be big on casual flings. Frankly I don't even see him having sex that much at this point, he seems more attached to it as a concept than an actual activity he regularly engages in.

You know who's the inverse of that, though? The one Tobias himself calls a pervert? Secondo. There's your whore. I know he looks big and mean and authoritary but let's be honest, half of Infestissumam is about ritual sex and he's out in Vegas on the regular with more women than he can reliably satisfy. He says it himself that he became Papa because "he likes a sexy beat". THERE'S THE EMERITUS WHORE, AND I'M CERTAIN OF IT

[cristina0604]

Hiiii!👋🏻👋🏻👋🏻 It took me 3 months to finish this painting, but here you have this mthrfucking-sexy authoritary Ocelot😎.

[mimill3]

i dont like antipsychotics/dont rlly think i need to be on them but the fear of upsetting a authoritary igure ohhhhhh the fear of upsetting an authroritary figure

on the uppies side at least ive still been able to works on my projects butyeah im not rlly sure i should trust her 🐁🐯🪢 theres been lots of change recently…….

[ellieslittleburrow]

Summary : Geralt wants to help you. You don't want his help.

Warnings : A father caring for his child.

A/N : Your name is Rivvie/Raven. It's genderneutral and i chose it for you!!!!! Took me a while to come up with it so shush

----

Steps pierced your ears as they stormed closer to your aching stiff body.. You shrunk in fear, retreating into yourself, unsure of who it was or what they were going to do to you. But when a familiar silhouette emerged from the trees-

"Geralt..." Your body unconsciously jolted up to a sitting position. It hurt, but you lifted your head up anyway. "I'm..I'm okay." You huffed, swallowing the pool of blood that coated the borders of your lips. You straightened your back, attempting to look as composed as you could. But the browns and reds smeared across your face proved otherwise.

The man who stood before you extended his hand out to you, his eyes piercing through to your soul. But when you didn't comply, anger contorted his features and he sucked his lips inwards in a refraining manner. "Get up."

You hesistantly took his hand, wincing as he pulled you up to your feet, but you didn't have to react before the latters betrayed you, ending up in a loss of balance and a striking pain starting at your knees and traveling all the way up to the rest of your body. Thankfully, Geralt's quick reflexes saved you from fully hitting the ground. As you were falling, he crouched and wrapped his hands around your waist., holding your upper body close to him before forcing you up again.

"No!" You yanked yourself from your father figure, a confident frown on your face. "I can walk on my own..." The words struggle to leave your throat. Geralt sighed.

"Come on, chil-"

"I'm not a fucking child Geralt." You instinctively pressed your hand against the tree your back has been hugging throughout the whole ordeal. "i can take care of myself. I don't n-"

"Yes you do."

You winced at the sudden rage that filled his voice. Through gritted teeth, he continued. "You do need me- Look at you, you can barely stand-"

"Don't yell at me." But despite the fear that washed your body cold, you yelled back in response. You don't need his help. You can defend yourself. He reached for your hand but you slapped it away with more force than intended. You are not a child.

Or maybe...You are because the witcher's features contorted even more, his eyes darkening subsequently-You discreetly leaned away, shrinking slightly more.

"Then you shall stop acting like one..." The words raged out of his lips. "Look at you, all bruised up and refusing help. You know i don't mean you any harm, i just don't want you to get hurt." The veins on his neck growing more prominent.

You....You did know that, but you didn't care. He won't be there forever. "I can take care of myself." You insisted, turning on your heels.

You head for the forest, the direction home may have been unknown to you, but senses work in a magical way, making it so that you never needed to know. You just felt.

You limped through the forest, passing by clusters of fallen logs and traps, steadying yourself whenever you could reach a tree. You'd gladly rather die there than ask for help from Geralt, who lazily but firmly marched behind you.

He called your name a few times. Even yelled. But you were persistant this time. He will not make you apologize. You weren't sorry. You needed to prove to him-that you did not need his help.

"Are you going to keep ignoring me?" The witcher spoke again and unconsciously, your head almost twisted over your shoulder.

Aren't you allowed to be angry?

"That's not the behaviour of a grown individual, Rivvie." Geralt's voice dripped with provocation, firing up your aching body into a hot boil. But you still didn't ans-

"That's enough, Raven." A sudden authoritary growl thundered through the forest. "I just want to help you. And i'm not asking." Before you had the time to protest, your feet were swept off the ground and you found yourself nailed to Geralt's chest.

An awkward position for you to jerk your body, he wouldn't have dropped you, you'd just jolted and thrown your body up and down in vain. Geralt's strong. His arms alone wrapped around you so tightly you'd actually feel claustophobic. You would if it were somebody else's arms. But...Geralt's your...safe haven. You just don't want him to know that.

You huffed, growling as you turn your head away from him, burying your chin into the acromion shaping his shoulders. "I don't need your help." You groaned, stressing your words in an attempt to sound...more stern.

But Geralt simply grunted a cold and blank "Okay." causing you to uncomfortably shift in his embrace. He lifted you up a bit to adjust your body, causing a ached whimper to leave your lips. "Sorry.."

"I..." You start but....maybe you shouldnt push it? After all, he really just wants you to be okay. "It's okay..." You readjust your head back to your frontal view, eyeing Geralt, whose face was only inches away from your own.

"T-thank you.." You hide your face into your chest, unable to furthur embarass yourself.

Geralt stayed quiet for a moment, but then he grunted, a silent "you're welcome" you're familiar enough with.

With that, you rested your head on his chest, finally accepting the situation. You gripped his shirt as softly as you could and closed your eyes. Maybe having them there wasns't so bad after all.

-----

I read somewhere that most *readers* are white-fied. And it just opened my eyes. I hope this does indeed include all and everyone. I hope this was pleasant to read for all of you guys, comments are much appreciated. See ya in the next one! ❤️❤️❤️🥀🥀🥀

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

THERES A BOMB STRAPPED TO MY CHEST AND IF YOU DONT TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED W ZEPHRIT THE NIGHT BEFORE IN YOUR COFFEE SHOP AU IT WILL EXPLODE AHHHHHHHHHH

Well apparently threats + enthusiasm are the best motivators ever, so, here you go (I might have been a bit carried away) :

Honestly, Ifrit shouldn't be here. It's late, both he and Ivy have a long shift tomorrow, they should get a good night of sleep to face the next day in the best conditions.

Key word : should.

Unfortunately, neither Ifrit nor Ivy are known to do what's good for them, and Pebble is half their self control. Knowing the man, that is a concerning fact.

Anyway, Pebble's not here, they're catching up with Aether and Dew, which means they end up at a bar, with the objective of getting thoroughly wasted.

Well, not Ivy ; he offered to be the one driving them home, sticking to his soda, though he does make a point to pour it in an empty shot glass and down it at the same time as the rest of them.

Ifrit, knowing he's a bit of a lightweight, tries to take it slow ; he still wants to remember this night, and he'd rather avoid the worst of the hangover that will surely make his shift that much more tiring.

There's a bit of a blank in the conversation, Aether ordering new drinks, Dew out for a quick smoke, so Ifrit let his eyes wander in the room.

His gaze lands on someone sitting alone at a table, stomach immediately flipping. Long hair falling on their shoulders, a Nightmare On Elm Street tee tucked in baggy jeans, held on their hip by a thick belt with a shiny buckle that catches the dim lights. But what really gets Ifrit is the way that person is looking at him, unabashedly staring with a little smirk, lazily twirling their cane in their hand.

Fuck.

For a while, they both only do that. They stare. Check each other out. Ifrit knows he looks good, tight jeans on and tank top threatening to reveal his chest every time he shifts even the slightest bit, but oh does the burn of that person's eyes on him feel like the biggest compliment he ever received.

Then, the stranger leans back in their seat, making a come hither gesture, which really seals the deal. Ifrit is on his feet in and instant, color rising to his cheeks. He hears Ivy sniggering and wishing him good luck, but it's muted, distant, all of Ifrit's attention on the person cocking their head at him.

He's standing in front of them in three strides.

Up close they're even more captivating. Freckles, creases around their eyes, a small scar on their cheekbone. Older than Ifrit is, but he wouldn't be able to know by how much ; all he knows is that there is a hint of grey at their temple and that it's unreasonably hot.

"Like what you see ?"

Oh, fuck, if the croon of their voice doesn't fuel the fire in Ifrit's guts.

"Sure do. Could ask you the same question, stranger," he manages to choke out, though it doesn't have the teasing lilt he usually so easily injects in his flirty exchanges.

The person chuckles, sizing Ifrit up with something almost predatory in their eyes. There's an easy confidence, something sure and steady and...authoritary to them that makes Ifrit want to drop on his knees right here right now.

"Zephyr. Name's Zephyr, sweet thing. And yes, I do enjoy the sight of you and your big doe eyes...?"

"Ifrit," he answers, voice unsteady, face burning, getting stupidly worked up by a basic conversation. But it's the way Zephyr watches him, like a hawk ready to sink its talons in soft flesh.

Ifrit would let them.

"Now I'd love to keep talking to you, don't get me wrong, but I also might keel over if I don't get my hands on you in the next minute or so," Zephyr conversationally states.

"Bathroom ?" Ifrit wheezes, itching to taste them, to feel them.

Zephyr grabs their cane with one hand, Ifrit's necklace with the other, and makes a beeline for said bathroom.

It's baffling, really, how easily Ifrit let himself be led like this, following behind like an obedient pup, struck by the overwhelming need to be good, to please Zephyr every way he can.

The door of the stall slams shut behind both of them, lock clicking. Surprisingly, Ifrit feels a bit intimidated now that he's alone with Zephyr. He's done nastier shit, in riskier and more embarrassing settings, but somehow, being cramped in a narrow space with Zephyr specifically has his nerves acting up.

That is until Zephyr cups his neck to guide him into a heated kiss, all apprehension bleeding out of Ifrit as he leans into it, backing Zephyr against the door, gropping their hips.

"How do you- how do you want me," Ifrit manages to pant against their mouth, distracted by the feeling of hands slipping under his shirt, pawing at his belly, then up, up to his chest, ripping a whimper out of him when deft fingers pay special attention to his nipples.

Zephyr seems to consider as they lick a nasty stripe up Ifrit's neck, reaching the shell of his ear just in time to whisper right against it.

"I want you on your knees."

Well, Ifrit's been ready for that for long enough that he immediately goes down, barely needing to be guided by the hand settling in his hair. His own find Zephyr's thighs, anchoring themselves there while he looks up, aware that their view probably consists of flushed cheeks, ruffled hair, slack jaw and glazed over eyes.

It seems to do the trick, too, because Ifrit can see them fattening up in their jeans, hips jerking slightly. After another glance up to confirm Zephyr is in, Ifrit reaches up, undoing their belt in a record time despite his shaky hands.

"Do this often ?" Zephyr teases, only chuckling at the embarrassed way Ifrit ducks his head down. "It's alright, no shame in it. You are a sight on your knees, sweet thing."

And, okay, Ifrit has heard that before, because he is pretty and fully dedicated to the blow jobs he gives - his oral fixation is to blame for that - but wow, the way Zephyr says it, phrases it, has him throbbing in his pants.

"Now be good and get me in that pretty mouth of yours, mmh ?"

Ifrit might very well pass out.

He does what he's asked, because fuck his need to please is back tenfold. Also, he might die if he doesn't get Zephyr's cock down his throat right this instant. The second their dick is freed, Ifrit takes it as far as he can, gag reflex immediately challenged.

His jaw will ache soon, there's already instinctive tears collecting at his waterline, but Zephyr's heady taste finally coats Ifrit's tongue and they make a low sound as their head thud back against the door, so it's all more than worth it.

Ifrit doesn't waste time, bobbing his head and hollowing his cheeks like rent is due. He's good at this, he knows it, and he'll be damned if he doesn't make sure Zephyr knows that by the time they're done.

The hand in his hair tightens, tugging not so gently, sparks of pain only serving to make Ifrit's cock twitch while he extracts as much bitten off moans, gasps and grunts as he can from Zephyr, who's clearly getting lost in the feeling of it all.

Their hips twitch forward when Ifrit swirls his tongue around the head, and he pulls away just enough to whisper in a raspy, strained voice.

"You can fuck my mouth, if you want to."

Zephyr's eyes actually roll back at that.

"Oh, sweetheart," they rasp, grabbing his jaw to shove their cock down his throat again, holding Ifrit still that way, one hand on his face, the other in his hair.

And, to Ifrit's delight, they are not being gentle, snapping their hips forward with hurried urgency, blindingly chasing their pleasure. Despite that, when the tears finally spill from Ifrit's eyes, they wipe them away with their thumb, mumbling a string of praises that warms something in his chest.

"Good boy, taking me so well- fuck, so good, that mouth of yours..."

It doesn't take much longer for Zephyr's rythm to falter as they warn in a breathless voice.

"Gonna cum Ifrit- tell me- where-"

Ifrit is given some leverage to pull away, just barely, to answer.

"In my mouth, please-"

Zephyr is leaning most of his weight against the door now, heaving a sigh at the answer, before thrusting back into Ifrit's mouth, once twice-

With a barely stiffled moan, they come down Ifrit's throat, not letting go of the vice grip they have on his hair until they've come down from their orgasm.

"Oh, fuck, sweetheart," they hum when Ifrit swallows, maintaining eye contact the whole time. It's dizzying, the arousal flowing through him, the taste of Zephyr lingering, the pride of seeing them wrecked that way, barely able to stand on their own, hair plastered to their face, panting. All because of Ifrit.

He's yanked out of his thoughts by the toe of Zephyr's shoe pressing against his crotch, making Ifrit jolt and whine.

"Such a good little thing like you," Zephyr coos, regaining some composure, surely you deserve a reward, mmh ?

Ifrit's out of words, too turned on and throat far too wrecked to do anything else but nod furiously.

"Up you go then," Zephyr hums, offering Ifrit a hand to tug him back on his feet. He let them turn him toward the toilet seat, braces a hand against the wall when Zephyr crowds behind him, working his pants open.

The relief of having his cock, hard and leaking, finally pulled out already has Ifrit weak in the knees.

Then Zephyr wraps a hand around it, breathing in his ear.

"Let's keep this clean, mmh ?"

While he would like to answer, Ifrit doesn't even get to think about what to say before Zephyr starts pumping him, nice and slow, paying extra attention to the head. His eyes roll back, head hanging down, mouth opening around a silent moan.

Truthfully, it takes an embarrassingly short time for Ifrit to start whimpering, already so worked up from just blowing Zephyr, but they don't seem to think any less of him for that.

"There, there, feels good, uh ? I know, I know pretty boy, being so good for me shh, sh, there you go, you close, uh ? I can tell you are. It's okay, it's good."

With so much encouragement, and the feeling of a tight fist around his cock, Ifrit is done for. A few more stroke, and he shoots in the toilet, babbling and half-sobbing the whole time.

Zephyr, turns out, really is perfect, because they stick around, help Ifrit wipe what little mess they made - really, they've been surprisingly clean, overall - and most importantly, they check on Ifrit with a softness laced with an unwavering determination to make sure he is okay that makes his stomach flip again.

So Ifrit let them grab his jaw, gently but firmly, inspect his face, adjust his clothes, ask if he's okay - and returns the favor.

It's only when he's back at his table with a far too nosy Ivy trying to get details, Zephyr long out of the bar, though they didn't leave without one last kiss, that Ifrit realizes he forgot to ask for their number.

Fuck.

Well, you never know what might happen, uh ? Small world and all that.

[solarpunkpresentspodcast]

There Is No Perfect System

There’s no dipping one’s toe into the solarpunk stream without noticing that although not all solarpunks are anarchists, there is a strong sense in solarpunk that we won’t be living happily, freely, and sustainably until we dismantle both capitalism and the state.

Ah, but if only it was only capitalism that is capable of social and environmental savagery. And, hey, hang on a second. It’s not as if even democracies can only be stifling and oppressive.

I will admit that for decades I too have dreamed of living in a society where we didn’t need the police, prisons, or laws because we all just voluntarily treat each other decently and all personally make sure to commit no crimes against the environment. But the older me has become skeptical that such a systemless system could ever work. Are we going to ship all the people who can’t play well with others to Mars? Look at how much trouble we’re having already, especially now that so many people (and politicians) have figured out that they can pretty much get away with murder by ignoring the social norms that keep society functioning by filling in the gaps in between the laws.

I’m 100% with you when you say that capitalism has been terrible for people and the planet. The less carefully regulated capitalism is, the more it is a race to the bottom where 15 people on Earth have all the money, the natural world has given way to soy bean fields, palm oil plantations, and toxic garbage dumps, and the rest of us are living in misery and vastly reduced life expectancy in hovels or in prison.

But—honest question—is there a better alternative?

Communism, as it was practiced in the 20th century, was also terrible for the environment. Often egregiously so. My better half grew up in East Germany and it’s tons less polluted now than it was under communist authoritarianism when, honestly, nobody cared one bit about the damage they were doing to people or nature even when they weren’t under pressure to make profit. Today, under capitalism in a still at least somewhat social democracy, there are rules and investment directed at preventing, among other things, factories and powerplants from dumping their waste or sending it unfiltered out through their chimneys.

As much as it’s easy and not far off the mark to rail against the evils of capitalism, it actually isn’t capitalism—or communism or any other -ism—that treats the environment as nothing more than a repository of resources for human use. It’s the people operating within the framework of capitalism (etc)—or at least a pretty good chunk of them. And if that is the case, why should we expect that anarchism and its lack of a state will magically delivery us from the human selfishness, laziness, shortsightedness, and greed that lies at the root of the cruelest, most unjust, most environmentally damaging, and most unsustainable aspects of capitalism?

No matter what, we will never escape ourselves. Wherever we go, there we still will be at the heart of any system we use to order ourselves and our economies.

It is as my friend Don, the now retired librarian that I talked to in Season 2, Episode 2 of the podcast, was telling me the other day. It’s comforting to think that we just need to set up the perfect system and then everything will be utopian. But there is no perfect system because systems are created and administered by people and every single one of us is flawed. We are all to some degree—although some of us to more degrees than others—clever but stupid, short–sighted but wise, fair but unfair, greedy but generous, hard working but lazy, clear thinking but delusional, and honest but mendacious.

So why are we dreaming of the day that we finally have a perfect system when instead we should be working on ourselves and how we work together to get things done?

This isn’t to say that some systems aren’t worse than others. I mean, who wants anything as lacking in counterbalancing measures as monarchies, repressive authoritarian regimes, or dictatorships?

In the name of the sensible aspects of solarpunk, let’s work with what we have on hand: the the democracies that, at least as of the time of this writing, we still have. Let’s put our dreams of anarchistic perfection on the back burner and get down to the very real, very urgently needed work of shoring up our democracies against the corrosive attacks undermining them.

I don’t know about you, but given the upcoming elections and all the hatred people seem to have for each other, for the first time in my entire life, I’m worried about what the near future will be like. And I feel like that by the time we all take to the streets to rail against the rise in authoritarianism, it may already be too late.

[creature-wizard]

Vance has now re-created himself as a far-right “populist,” articulating an intellectual argument for the extremist MAGA agenda. In February of this year, Vance said he would not have certified the 2020 election if he was Vice President and would have allowed states to submit fake Trump electors.

Vance opposes abortion, called for the replacement of all civil servants with MAGA loyalists, said Trump should ignore Supreme Court rulings, wants to end aid to Ukraine in a move that empowers Russian President Vladimir Putin, and has openly praised far-right authoritarian leader Viktor Orbán.

[tightjeansjavi]

reluctant authoritary figure is so complex.

So many layers to peel back and discover.

Give him to me now!

[miupow]

What is that kink called. Position of power or sthng like ceo/employee boss/nanny

hehe hi nonnie... that kink is referred to as power imbalance/powerplay! also an authoritary kink sometimes.. it's one of my biggest turn ons tbh i'm weak for some power play

power play + spanking + breeding kink have got to be my top 3.

[firsttarotreader]

Hey! 😀 since this is a blog that posts tarot readings and I've also seen lots of anons about astrology I think there's also space for some Physiognomy too, right? to those who are not familiar, Physiognomy is the practice of assessing a person's character or personality from their outer appearance, especially the face and I'm studying it for a whole year and it's super interesting in my opinion aaand I obviously used what I learned until now on our dear Pedro and this is what I found out: he has thick-ish, straight eyebrows which indicates a very active mind (non-stop thinker) and a tendency to make decisions based on facts. Rational decisions instead of emotional ones. He also has a square face-shape and... well, to be very honest, I'll put the "analitical language" aside and be quite frank here: his square-face + aquiline/hawk nose screams "STRONG temper", ok? 😂 both features appears in people with that type of personality and when they come togueter in one face? oof! that's one hell of a personality right there 🥴 another characteristic of square faces and aquiline/hawk noses is the authoritary/dominant behavior. They can be great bosses... or dictators 🤣 they have strong opinions and willpower and a HUGE ambition. Pedro also has a downturned eye-shape which indicates tendency to sadness/depression and a slightly downturned mouth that indicates pessimism towards life. As the owner of this blog says: none of what I wrote has to be taken as the supreme truth. Physiognomy is a chinese knowledge that sometimes can be spot on, but in others is not, so feel free to believe it or not 😊

Hello! Thank you for sharing your knowledge with us! I had never heard of physiognomy but what you said basically matches astrology and Tarot, so… 😬

[theluciferswar]

Sorry if this is a bother, but did you get my submission for Lucifer from Angels Before Man by Rafael Nicolas?

Hi ! I don't know if it's yours but I have just the one submission for ABM!Lucifer, from 9 days ago notably explaining his relationship with Michael and how he's "the tragic gay anti-authoritary icon we all need"

[mtr-amg]

And breaks down what this would mean in practice:

“Translation: All LGBTQ+ content will be regarded as pornography. This is already the pernicious lie being used to ban books all over the nation. First Amendment rights will not apply, meaning we will no longer have freedom of speech to protect us.”

[soonasiknewyou]

I think, in addition to my reasonable and also widely unappreciated distrust of authoritary figures, religion has never resonated with me because everyone else seems to view it as a savior or guideline. To me, and this i only realized quite frequently, God had always been like more of a begrudging uncle you see once year, but that lets you borrow his old acoustic guitar, than any kind of caregiver. I realize this description seems unnecessarily specific, which it also coincidentally is. But yes, i have never felt particularly fond or even trusting towards God, and so whenever i entered church, i would just pray (read:beg), to keep borrowing the guitar, to keep the keys to life in my back pocket and just beg for him not to change the locks quite yet. While others prayed for, well, whatever it is good and proper pious Christians pray for, i would usually sit in the pews with my back straightened like an obedient child, eyes wide open and hands clasped in my lap and ask, «I get to do this again? Are you sure? Are you sure?» like i was asking for permission. Clearly, my relationship with religion and thereby life had been much like my relationship with everything else: polluted by an immediate and certain anxiety that it would very soon realize that i am an impostor and thereby move on to greener, pastures- and as a consequenceof this, i would always ache with a constant need of reassurance that, in most cases, i would never receive. If i ever did, the satisfaction would be short lasting, as i was convinced that whatever had praised me had only done so to shut me up (quite understandably). This was, and is, a terrbly tiring way to experience life, but in any case has also taught me that people really do not like caring about other people very much at all. In fact, my current hypothesis is that most of the general population tredges through life trying to avoid caring about other people, consciously or not. People want to love and be loved, sure, but perhaps more as an adjective than a verb. The act of genuinely caring about another person is both exhausting and also offers absolutely no reward- in fact, it is usually the cause of immense regret, mortification and, inevitably, immense loss. The human brain, quite understandably is not exhilirated at the thought, but alas, it is unavoidable. I do not believe for a second that there is or has ever been a person who had not cared about another person. Whether we like it or not, humans care about other humans. Most humans would rather not. Some humans (and i unfortunately fall into this category) care so much about everything, you come full circle and end up hating and loving everything in equal measure, with the scales tipping now and then. This all sounds either obvious or horrifyingly nihilistic, depending on whoevers reacting, and whether or not they are 1) suicidal, 2) hungry and/or underslept or 3) the kind of person that owns a little white dog and goes jogging at five in the morning, oftentimes with the little white dog in tow. But i dont think our avoidance towards attachments towards others is necessarily a bad thing. I just think everyone knows that forming those attachments and connections is dangerous business, but that it is also completely inevitable throughout life, and that the sooner you realize you dont actually want to be, nor have the ability to move to the forest and never speak to another soul again, the sooner you can get on with the rest of life and its freights and grooves.

[linguistlist-blog]

TOC: Journal of Argumentation in Context Vol. 12, No. 3 (2024)

2023. iii, 104 pp. Table of Contents Articles Tweeting fallacies: An exploratory study on fallacy accusations on Twitter José Ángel Gascón pp. 253–277 The epistemological orientation of Ottoman argumentation theory and its relation to kalām : Some reflections on Ṭaşköprüzâde, Gelenbevî, and Saçaklızâde Serkan Ince pp. 278–306 Covid-19 and public debate over gain-of-function research on potentially pandemic pathogens Gordon R. Mitchell pp. 307–343 Book reviews D. Serafis. 2023. Authoritari http://dlvr.it/T2LbXP

[mongowheelie]

Republicans Are Secretly Meeting With Allies of 'Putin’s Buddy' Orbán to End Ukraine Aid: Report

This tells you all you need to know about Republicans! Support dictators and destroy democratic countries, including our own!

[antonio-velardo]

Antonio Velardo shares: Trump Unbound: An Autocrat in Waiting? by Unknown Author

By Unknown Author Responses to articles about Donald Trump’s authoritari tendencies. Also: The inhumanity of homelessness; violence against inmates; community composting. Published: December 5, 2023 at 12:41PM from NYT Opinion https://ift.tt/SAqow2m via IFTTT