#granted i still have another senior thesis since this one was just for one of my majors

[jfkisonthemoon]

my current draft for my yoohan fic is longer than my senior thesis.

[ct913]

Marshall Kamena is a registered Democrat and was elected mayor of Livermore, CA.. He ran on the democratic ticket as he knew a Bay Area city would never vote for a Republican. He is as conservative as they come. He wrote the following from an article, originally written by Evan Sayet and his opinion he expressed as a columnists for Townhall.com were his own and did not represent the views of Townhall.com, were mistakenly attributed to Marshall Kamena by me.

Trump’s 'lack of decorum, dignity, and statesmanship' By Evan Sayet in his article "He Fights

My Leftist friends (as well as many ardent #NeverTrumpers) constantly ask me if I’m not bothered by Donald Trump’s lack of decorum. They ask if I don’t think his tweets are “beneath the dignity of the office.”

Here’s my answer: We Right-thinking people have tried dignity. There could not have been a man of more quiet dignity than George W. Bush as he suffered the outrageous lies and politically motivated hatreds that undermined his presidency.

We tried statesmanship.

Could there be another human being on this earth who so desperately prized “collegiality” as John McCain?

We tried propriety – has there been a nicer human being ever than Mitt Romney?

And the results were always the same. This is because, while we were playing by the rules of dignity, collegiality and propriety, the Left has been, for the past 60 years, engaged in a knife fight where the only rules are those of Saul Alinsky and the Chicago mob.

I don’t find anything “dignified,” “collegial” or “proper” about Barack Obama’s lying about what went down on the streets of Ferguson in order to ramp up racial hatreds because racial hatreds serve the Democratic Party.

I don’t see anything “dignified” in lying about the deaths of four Americans in Benghazi and imprisoning an innocent filmmaker to cover your tracks.

I don’t see anything “statesman-like” in weaponizing the IRS to be used to destroy your political opponents and any dissent.

Yes, Obama was “articulate” and “polished” but in no way was he in the least bit “dignified,” “collegial” or “proper.”

The Left has been engaged in a war against America since the rise of the Children of the ‘60's. To them, it has been an all-out war where nothing is held sacred and nothing is seen as beyond the pale.. It has been a war they’ve fought with violence, the threat of violence, demagoguery and lies from day one – the violent take-over of the universities – till today.

The problem is that, through these years, the Left has been the only side fighting this war. While the Left has been taking a knife to anyone who stands in their way, the Right has continued to act with dignity, collegiality and propriety.

With Donald Trump, this all has come to an end. Donald Trump is America ’s first wartime president in the Culture War.

During wartime, things like “dignity” and “collegiality” simply aren’t the most essential qualities one looks for in their warriors. Ulysses Grant was a drunk whose behavior in peacetime might well have seen him drummed out of the Army for conduct unbecoming.

Had Abraham Lincoln applied the peacetime rules of propriety and booted Grant, the Democrats might well still be holding their slaves today.

Lincoln rightly recognized that, “I cannot spare this man. He fights.”

General George Patton was a vulgar-talking.. In peacetime, this might have seen him stripped of rank. But, had Franklin Roosevelt applied the normal rules of decorum then, Hitler and the Socialists would barely be five decades into their thousand-year Reich.

Trump is fighting. And what’s particularly delicious is that, like Patton standing over the battlefield as his tanks obliterated Rommel’s, he’s shouting, “You magnificent bastards, I read your book!”

That is just the icing on the cake, but it’s wonderful to see that not only is Trump fighting, he’s defeating the Left using their own tactics. That book is Saul Alinsky’s Rules for Radicals – a book so essential to the Liberals’ war against America that it is and was the playbook for the entire Obama administration and the subject of Hillary Clinton’s senior thesis.

It is a book of such pure evil, that, just as the rest of us would dedicate our book to those we most love or those to whom we are most indebted, Alinsky dedicated his book to Lucifer.

Trump’s tweets may seem rash and unconsidered but, in reality, he is doing exactly what Alinsky suggested his followers do. First, instead of going after “the fake media” — and they are so fake that they have literally gotten every single significant story of the past 60 years not just wrong, but diametrically opposed to the truth, from the Tet Offensive to Benghazi, to what really happened on the streets of Ferguson, Missouri — Trump isolated CNN.. He made it personal.

Then, just as Alinsky suggests, he employs ridicule which Alinsky described as “the most powerful weapon of all.”... Most importantly, Trump’s tweets have put CNN in an untenable and unwinnable position. ... They need to respond.

This leaves them with only two choices. They can either “go high” (as Hillary would disingenuously declare of herself and the fake news would disingenuously report as the truth) and begin to honestly and accurately report the news or they can double-down on their usual tactics and hope to defeat Trump with twice their usual hysteria and demagoguery. The problem for CNN (et al.) with the former is that, if they were to start honestly reporting the news, that would be the end of the Democratic Party they serve. It is nothing but the incessant use of fake news (read: propaganda) that keeps the Left alive.

Imagine, for example, if CNN had honestly and accurately reported then-candidate Barack Obama’s close ties to foreign terrorists (Rashid Khalidi), domestic terrorists (William Ayers & Bernardine Dohrn), the mafia (Tony Rezko) or the true evils of his spiritual mentor, Jeremiah Wright’s church.

Imagine if they had honestly and accurately conveyed the evils of the Obama administration’s weaponizing of the IRS to be used against their political opponents or his running of guns to the Mexican cartels or the truth about the murder of Ambassador Christopher Stevens and the Obama administration’s cover-up.

So, to my friends on the Left — and the #NeverTrumpers as well — do I wish we lived in a time when our president could be “collegial” and “dignified” and “proper”? Of course I do.

These aren’t those times. This is war. And it’s a war that the Left has been fighting without opposition for the past 50 years.

So, say anything you want about this president - I get it - he can be vulgar, he can be crude, he can be undignified at times. I don’t care. I can’t spare this man. He fights for America!

[fiinalgiirls]

GENERAL INFORMATION.

full name - luz esperanza fuentes dedios nicknames - none gender / pronouns - she/her date of birth - august 12, 1990 place of birth - yakima, washington citizenship / ethnicity - american, irish, mexican religion - catholic socioeconomic status / political affiliation - working class; liberal. marital status - single, though may depend on verse. sexual & romantic orientation - bisexual. education / occupation - phd in bioarchaeology ( in progress ) languages - spanish, english, asl

FAMILY INFORMATION.

parents - dolores fuentes dedios and donald kennedy ( deceased ) siblings - jose fuentes dedios ( missing ) offspring - nayeli guadalupe esparza fuentes pets / other - none notable extended family - stepmother, linda ( married to dolores )

PHYSICAL INFORMATION.

faceclaim - lindsey morgan hair color / eye color - brown, brown. height / build - 5′6″ / athletic tattoos / piercings - earlobes x 2. a stick and poke ‘mi vida loca’ three dots on her hand from middle school. distinguishable features - big beautiful eyes and a muscular frame.

MEDICAL INFORMATION.

medical history - none. known allergies - none. visual impairment / hearing impairment - none. nicotine use / drug use / alcohol use - alcohol and marijuana on rare occasion.

PERSONALITY.

traits - tenacious, brave, compassionate ; juvenile, sensitive tropes - the ace, tomboyish ponytail, disappeared dad, brainy brunette, badass adorable. temperament - choleric alignment - chaotic good celtic tree zodiac - hazel, the knower mbti - enfp hogwarts house - gryffindor vice / virtue - envy / diligence likes / dislikes - sneakers, color-coded lecture notes, abuelita hot cocoa, basketball season, joggers, showering at the gym and stashing a gym bag in the back of her car, tamales with her mother in christmastime, la virgen de guadalupe /  people who look down on others, dudes at the gym, science deniers, thunderstorms, sorting the recycling. quote - “i aim to be lion hearted, but my hands still shake and my voice isn’t quite loud enough.”

FAVORITES.

food - lucky charms or tacos al pastor drink - cafe au lait with cinnamon sprinkled on top pizza topping - pepperoni and olives with tabasco color - red / orange music - hip hop / r&b books - partner to the poor by paul farmer, parable of the sower / parable of the talents by octavia butler movies - friday, resident evil, black panther curse word - goddamn scents - mole on the stove, old spice deodorant

BIOGRAPHY,

trigger warning ⋯ death, apocalyptic themes, divorce

AEGEAN BRONZE AGE ( 3,000-2,000 BCE )

when luz is small, she hears the story of her birth a thousand times. she can recite it by heart. it is a perfect day in may and her mother dolores has been walking for days, tired of carrying around a belly so swollen with life that she is certain she could fit her own body inside of it. it has been five months since dolores has seen her husband and she does not think he’ll ever come home from some godforsaken war across the sea. the truth is that he never does–not even for his only daughter. donald kennedy dies alone on the same day his daughter luz takes her first breath after an arduous labor in the back of an ambulance on the way from pioneer park to saint mary medical center.

dolores tells the story as if she was in both places at once. at her husband’s side as a fatal bullet cut him down like a blade of grass and holding her own hand as she pushed and screamed on the rigid gurney. luz thinks that her mother must see everything. it is that childhood belief that protects her from the troubles that follow her cousins like black cats and shadows. it’s different as an only child, she knows that her mother has only one person in the whole wide world and she must live up to her mother’s need to be whole.

next door, the abandoned house sits behind a chain link fence. dozens of stone animals litter the yard and porch and it becomes young luz’s playground. she digs in the dirt, unburying hidden treasures and her cousins laugh and call her indiana jones. the book of greek myths her father left behind is never far from her mind and even as a small girl, luz knows she will walk in the colosseum and excavate along the mediterranean.

school is easy for luz who is an avid reader and an energetic learner. she quickly earns playful jeering from her cousins for being a pocha as she works hard to fit in. despite focusing on student government and basketball, luz is well regarded among her peers. she is the kind of girl that makes it hard not to like–an easy going, laid back girl with a jock’s ponytail and a sharp wit. the girl is made for something great and her mother works tirelessly to afford uniforms and ap textbooks. luz fuentes dedios is going somewhere.

dolores finds love again while luz is in middle school. linda is a woman like no other and she tends to her own son, jose, lovingly. he is a few years luz’s senior and goes to a charter school in oregon for the deaf, but they become as thick as thieves. the pair shoot hoops every weekend that jose’s in town and the little family feels more like home than it ever did before.

MINOAN PALATIAL PERIOD ( 2,600-1,400 BCE )

it’s not the dream she had far away in the esteemed halls of colleges like cambridge, oxford, or harvard. no, whitman college–so named for the whitman incident in which a missionary is forced to pay for his crimes and yet is remembered as the white hero–is just down the street from her modest childhood home. it’s strange, then, how different of a world it seems to her. the liberal arts college is not the place she belongs as she did in high school. it’s an entirely different world. she works in the cafeteria to offset the costs her scholarships don’t cover, plays basketball for the team, and has dinner with her mother every sunday if not more. it’s not a bad life.

the classroom and court are the places where luz feels like she can really be herself. pieces of her are lost in conversations among classmates that she does not relate to and she plunges herself head first into work and family, which is the most she’s ever known. when she finds her true calling, she’s paralyzed–they don’t offer a major in bioarchaeology. with the help of a couple of advisors, she makes her own–blending anthropology, biology, geology, and chemistry together in a blissful salve that mends even the deepest wounds gained in the thirst to prove that she can be everything her mother needs. her sacrifices will not be for nothing.

when she graduates, luz feels a whirlwind sense of accomplishment. she is accepted to field school in crete where she can study the minoan and mycenaean cultures to her heart’s content. it is there she develops her fascination with bones and death and focuses her interest on funerary archaeology–a subject she will study at length at the university of tennessee’s bioarchaeology doctoral program. she can sometimes hear her father calling her and she knows that she must reunite the dead with their loved ones.

THE HEROIC AGE ( 1,600-1,100 BCE )

on a quiet, hot summer night she falls in love with another doctoral student a few years her senior. they drink raki and let the waves and sand massage their weary feet. they return to tennessee and luz feels her stomach swelling with the prospect of life. rodrigo is a warm heart and though he is not prepared for fatherhood he takes to it, like he does with most things, with gusto. if there is apprehension in her heart it is quelled by the worry in her mother’s voice through the telephone lines–please tell me you are going to marry him, mija.luz fuentes dedios has never broken her mother’s heart.

nayeli guadalupe esparza is born, much like her mother, on a summer’s day and is named for rodrigo and luz’s grandmothers. luz holds her so tight that rodrigo is afraid she might break her. the young parents find that they love nayeli enough that it doesn’t matter if they love each other half as much. it won’t be long before they find out that they don’t love one another at all anymore.

weddings and motherhood do not stop a determined woman. luz knows that women have always persevered more obstacles than their male peers and she is determined to not let her dreams fall by the wayside. their lives are not easy–both spend long hours teaching and learning while preparing their own research. dolores moves from walla walla, selling their home by the house with the stone animal statues, the train tracks and the cornfield–which is now a burger king and a dollar tree. she does sewing and odd jobs while she cares for her granddaughter naya with her chubby cheeks and bright brown eyes.

in their final years, the couple move to crete to finish their research in the field. both grow tired of working, living, and raising a daughter together and the break-up is messy. nayeli is five years old when they realize they can no longer make their relationship work and when the grant money runs out, luz is forced to return to the united states to finish her doctoral thesis with no funding and no job prospects. rodrigo stays on at the research center and there is no arguing that naya is better off living with a parent who can provide for her. luz is crestfallen.

a friend from field school hits her up one lonely afternoon in tennessee where luz is drowning her sorrows in the bottom of a tequila bottle. melissa has focused her interests on the early settlements of nebraska and has secured a lovely grant investigating cave systems out of omaha. dolores agrees to move with her daughter into a two-bedroom apartment in the nebraskan city.

in her spare time, luz works on her own thesis, but pays for it with melissa’s paid post-doc position. the exploration reinvigorates her and she remembers how to breathe again. it’s hard to wake up everyday without braiding her daughter’s soft curls and listening to a giggling tale of the girl’s dreams from the night before. she misses greece and, on her worst days, she thinks she might even miss rodrigo.

THE MYCENAEAN PERIOD  ( 1,300-1,000 BCE )

as things fall apart in europe, so does the spite behind the custody battle. luz has a stable income and home once again and, more than that, she has family and routine. rodrigo grows worried that the reports of sickness are more than just coincidence and as his anger melts it is replaced with guilt from having kept a daughter from a mother he knows would rip apart the moon itself for her. the phone sits warm in his hand after choking up and breaking down with luz on the other line, he sends his little girl to stay with her mother with the promise to move himself to omaha to finish his thesis when the research portion is complete. he never walks on u. s. soil again, but naya does.

the airport seems like a warzone when luz picks up her daughter, finally reunited she seems so much older in such a short span of time. they quickly settle into a routine, but as the time between phone calls from rodrigo grows, so does the sinking pit in her stomach. something is wrong in the world and it is spreading. some nights dolores wakes the apartment up wit nightmares about satan devouring the world and she says her mouth is full of sand. luz knows in her bones that something is slithering its way to devour their new found happiness and she feels helpless to stop it.

AFTER DECEMBER 25th, 2017,

DARK AGE OF GREECE ( 1,100-700 BCE )

even in the dead of winter, luz is driven into the snow by melissa’s work. a bootlegger’s cave on the edge of private farming property is in danger of flooding when the snows melt after irrigation plans by the owner have broken ground. they have a weekend to explore the caves and collect data before the owner completes the project and fills in the entrance and exit. with the stirrings and rumors of an epidemic, luz is reluctant to leave naya, dolores, and linda alone for a weekend, but her mother insists that the pair will do just fine.

they set off, three women and two men into the bowels of a harsh december, beneath dirt harder than stone. melissa takes point with dave, juan, and sarah close behind. luz and emily follow behind, both reluctant to disappear in the dank darkness disguised by pure fallen snow. while blood spills on christmas day red against the crystalline white, luz is not with her mothers and daughter making tamales and setting out milk and cookies for santa claus. instead she is regretting her commitment to her friendship while shivering in a seemingly endless bootleggers cave that had, more or less, proven to be a wash.

it’s not four hours in when dave, who had been looking sickly and pale since the beginning of the trip–and as luz suspected, had been vomiting up his dinner as he started to trail behind even emily–collapses over onto himself. luz had been avoiding him since they set out because he had seemed cagey and aggressive. unwilling to leave a man behind, emily and juan work to make an impromptu stretcher to bring him out while sarah stays faithfully by his side.

as he worsens, dave throws a scraggly punch at sarah and scratches the side of her cheek. inside the cave, screams are muffled and fear is suffocating. luz’s heart beats against her ear drums so loud that she worries they might burst. as they push forward in the cave system, melissa assures them that the exit is closer than the entrance, but dave rapidly deteriorates and sarah seems to be growing weaker now too. melissa is headstrong and determined that the trip not be in vain, but as the pair worsen, everyone agrees they must send someone for help. emily and juan stay behind with sarah and dave, while melissa luz head for the exit.

half an hour longer of walking has melissa and luz feeling no closer to the exit than before when the screams start behind them–magnified in volume by the cavernous acoustics of the bootlegger’s path. melissa and luz both want to check on their friends, but something primal within them tells them they must push forward and not backward. there are some sounds that, no matter how brave or kind a person is, will make you run.

it’s not a straight shot to the exit and the climb slows them down as their pursuer seems to keep a constant speed. there is the distinct sound of something wet against the cave floor; each thud makes her stomach turn. as they grow closer to the exit, she realizes that she does not hear melissa’s footfalls falling evenly behind her and turns as her friend calls out in surprise ‘dave, my god–’ as luz watches on, paralyzed by fear she is a stalagmite more than a woman.

when melissa lets out a hearty scream as dave bites into her throat, luz rushes to meet them and shoves dave to the ground. he is unrelenting and the face she can hardly make out in the darkness barely looks human. he doesn’t stop until she shoves her hand trowel through the back of his neck. it startles her how easily the blade slides through flesh. when her breathing regulates, she stands and finds melissa is dead on the ground.

THE GEOMETRIC PERIOD ( 900-700 BCE )

the drive back to town takes hours against the chaotic traffic and abandoned cars. hell rains down on omaha, nebraska like ash on the city of pompeii and the ground below even seems to shake with the force of mount vesuvius. all luz can think of is getting home to her mother and daughter and she curses herself for having ever listened to melissa in the first place. some stupid nsa sponsored project cost the lives of their entire research crew and maybe dolores and naya’s too. luz promises god that she will never put work before family again.

when she finally reaches their home, luz is horrified that the chaos outside has slithered its way into a home that still smells faintly of pork and chile california. there is blood sprayed across every surface of every room and dolores is nowhere to be found. clumsily formed letters spell out in blood on the kitchen wall by the calendar with little cats on it ‘lo sie–’ as an unfinished goodbye. naya does not come when called and luz collapses upon her daughter’s small bed–breathing in the smell of her as she sobs, unable to catch her breath.

beneath her desperate gasps for breath, she hears the small whine of a young girl from the closet door. behind it, naya emerges from her modest mountain of stuffed animals and screams when she sees her mother. the two fall into each other’s arms and then they fall apart. when the dust has cleared, luz packs bags for them both, says a prayer for her mother’s spirit ( wherever it may be ), and sets out in the path of a safe place. she finds that in the charles b. washington library, but for how long–only time will tell.

[thearrangment-phff]

LXXV.

June 2019

The timing of the infamous Trump state visit had meant that Isabella stayed home on maternity leave. It caused a bit of an uproar in the press that the wife of a senior royal had not participated in the state visit. Her past political comments had resurfaced until various people had to lie to the world and say that the very true statements were false. Even prestigious Yale professors had to lie about Isabella’s papers and her thesis was switched with another girl’s, who had written about the rise of technology in people’s lives.

“I feel as if I’m living a lie,” commented Isabella.

“You aren’t. But you can’t be political and those people lied to protect all of us.”

“What would’ve happened if those professors didn’t agree to lie? What would have happened if that poor girl didn’t agree to switch papers?” asked Isabella.

“Since everything worked out, who knows, and frankly we shouldn’t be dwelling,” replied Harry.  

“How can I not dwell?”  

Harry saw the sadness in his wife’s eyes, “We can talk about this later.”

While Isabella had gone to Luxembourg, Harry stayed in London for Trooping the Colour. Isabella along with her uncle and aunt The Grand Duke and Duchess of Luxembourg; her mother Archduchess Marie-Astrid; aunt and uncle Prince Nikolaus and Princess Margaretha of Liechtenstein; uncle Prince Jean; and siblings Archduke Alexander, Archduchesses Marie-Christine and Gabriella; and sister-in-law Archduchess Adelaide had attended a service to end the period of mourning for Grand Duke Jean of Luxembourg.

For various reasons, not every family member could make it to the service. Isabella, Charlie, and Bertie’s absence in London was well known not only within the public but also the royal family. The people of the world were robbed of Charlie and Bertie’s first balcony experience.

“Harry, when are Isabella and the children coming back again?”

Harry looked behind to find his father talking with some of his grandmother’s cousins, the Kent’s. He walked over towards them finding some difficulty with a large number of people in his way, “Charlie, Bertie, and Mary-Astrid are coming back tomorrow but Isabella has to fly to France soon after. The chateau’s 500-year anniversary is going up and she is finalizing all the details on the event.”

“Your father says you will be going to France a lot of the next couple of weeks,” mentioned Princess Michael of Kent.

“Yes. Isabella has some business with her properties and we are spending some time with her family again,” replied Harry.

“Habsburgs or Bourbons?”

“Well with Isabella’s family it’s both, isn’t it?” joked Princess Michael. Harry had ignored Princess Michael’s comment.

“We hope to see your children soon. Every year it seems that it family grows larger,” smiled Prince Michael.

“Not compared to Isabella’s family. Two weddings and two pregnancies is a slow year for them.”

“Of course it is. They always had large families because they understood the importance of alliances. They don’t revolve around history, history revolves around them, it always has.”

“Perhaps you should introduce Harry to your cousin. She could teach him a little bit of what it means to marry into their family,” suggested Princess Michael.

“I don’t think Harry would be interested,” waved off Prince Michael.

“Well actually, I might. It’s been 2 years since I married Isabella and I still feel I am looking at the tip of an iceberg when it comes to knowing anything about her family.”

“My family has served them for centuries, I don’t think anyone who isn’t born into their family can truly understand them.”

“There’s no need to depress the young man Marie. I’ll put you in contact with Helene.”

Harry nodded as Prince and Princess Michael of Kent walked away and Charles had given Harry a small hug, “Here I thought Isabella would struggle to fit in with the family.”

“Isabella doesn’t have a problem fitting in anywhere,” interrupted Harry.

“It’s been 2 years Harry. You two have changed and not necessarily have fallen in love from what I’ve seen but definitely learned to care for each other. She has given me three grandchildren who I love with all my heart. I hope you understand your blessings.”

“I don’t take her for granted. Because of her I have two sons, a daughter, and a life I never would have imagined,” replied Harry.

------

The 500 anniversary of the Château de Chambord had brought together Bourbon and Habsburg royals unlike ever before. Children ran around in the gardens and champagne bottles were being emptied at a fast rate by Isabella’s relations that jokes were being passed around. While she had little to do with the actual planning of the anniversary, Isabella had named her uncle Henri Honorary President of the celebrations.

Isabella had given an interview, but many were disappointed to find she simply talked about the Château. There were mentions of the twins which please only a small number of people. The public had wanted more since both Harry and Isabella had kept them out of public view. The pictures to celebrate Charlie and Bertie’s first birthday was a very unexpected surprise. Even the simple photos of the birth of Mary-Astrid had been unexpected. 

Once the celebrations were over, Isabella’s maternal cousins were called into one of the larger rooms in the Château. There was secrecy as Isabella led them up to the stairs into a private room, away from workers and guests. She had immediately noticed the lack of cousins who walked away from the group. Isabella simply couldn’t start without them, so she waited patiently.

“Belle are you going to explain why we are all in here?” asked Marie Astrid of Liechtenstein.

“Almost. Where are Felix and Louis?”

“I think they went to find a drink. But that was almost an hour ago,” answered Alexandra of Luxembourg.

The doors opened finding Felix and Louis red in the face, “Sorry we got lost and have been up and down stairs,” apologized Felix.

“We couldn’t have met on the first floor?” asked Louis.

“Maybe if you didn’t walk away from the group you would know where we were,” argued Isabella.

“Alright get on with it then!” yelled Alexander.

“Fine! I have two plans. The first is I want to talk with Marie-Esmeralda about making a documentary for the 100th anniversary of grandpapa’s birth.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Are you serious?”

“Belle you can’t be serious.”

Isabella got the wrong impression from the mumbles until finally, she heard the opposite agreement from her various cousins.

“I love it.”

“I think it’s a good idea.”

“Okay so should we take a show of hands?” asked Josef-Emanuel.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” replied Marie-Christine.

“So we do the documentary?” asked Isabella.

“I think it’s a lovely idea, Belle,” smiled Alexandra.

“Thank you. So I’ll reach out to Marie-Esmeralda?” asked Isabella getting mostly nods from the room.

“Are we going to be speaking English?” asked Guillaume.

“I don’t think so. I didn’t plan on it,” answered Isabella.

“I really don’t like speaking English,” said Gabriella.

“Not all of us are good at speaking English Belle,” spoke Marie-Astrid of Liechtenstein.

“I understand that. I’ll speak to Marie-Esmeralda to put captions so you can speak whatever language you want and the masses can still understand.”

“What are we going to do exactly just talk about him?”

“Yes. We’ll talk about his life and bring in family and friends to talk about him and his accomplishments. That sort of thing.”

“Okay so then what’s the second thing?” asked Maria Anunciata.

“Well... I sort of always wanted to create a charity together. A charity that caters to refugees like those from Yemon or Central America.”

“Belle that is controversial,” said Alexandra.

“I understand that but these are the people who need the most help. Well, everyone needs help but I feel passionate about this. Please you have to understand-” explained Isabella.

“I’m in,” interrupted Alexander, needing not to hear another word from his younger sister.

“Wait a minute,” replied Marie-Christine.

Alexander stood us addressing the room, ready as ever to defend his little sister against any opposition, “Oh come on! We all know Belle. We all knew her when she was in uni in the states and how passionate she was.. is actually. If there is anyone we should follow it should be her.”

The room had mixed feelings. While they understood how Isabella was before Harry she was now a changed woman. She was a member of the British Royal Family and the spark that Isabella had in her youth had gone out the moment Harry was introduced to the family through the act of marriage.

It was not a secret that Isabella had her issues and they were more erratic now than they have ever been. All of her cousins looked at each other, some with worried faces, others with stern faces knowing they would support Isabella in this newest project.

Isabella sensed the tension, “All my life I have wanted to help people. I wanted to right the wrong our family has done. I want to help people and that’s why I want to do this, especially now. This isn’t about nationality or religion it’s simply about the people, it always has been.”

Once again everyone looked around the room and some nodded at each other. Finally, Louis of Luxembourg had stood up, “I think we are all in agreement now. We’ll work on this, together... as a family... like we always have.”

Isabella gave the biggest smile. Since her marriage, this would be her biggest project that she would gladly put her life into, “In all honesty, these past couple of years I have lost track of who I truly am. This is a foot in the right direction.”

“This could bring us close together again,” smiled Maria-Anunciata.

“Or tear us apart,” said Constantin earning himself a couple of light hits from surrounding siblings and cousins, “Would people just stop hitting me!? I’m getting tired of it.”

“And I think we are all tired of hearing you speak sometimes Constantin,” joked Marie-Gabrielle.

“So I’ll get in contact with Marie-Esmeralda and I’ll have my private secretary draw up some things to get this charity rolling, oh this is going to be amazing!” smiled Isabella.

“So this documentary is going to be made over the next two years?” asked Wenceslaus.

“Well I think we’ll need some time to get everything set up. Maybe next year we’ll be doing interviews. I think it would be lovely to release this piece to grandpapa on the day of his birth,” answered Isabella.

“You are truly wonderful Belle.”

“Thank you. With every year our own little families get bigger or someone gets married, I thought this would bring us all back together. Just like the old times, and with this joint charity we get to help people. I’ve missed seeing smiles on people’s face like that.”

Harry looked at Isabella and in that exact moment found a woman he had rarely seen. While she never faced away from her royal duty her heart wasn’t in it some days. Harry pieced together in his head the reason why Isabella sometimes didn’t care. It was because Isabella wasn’t doing what she loved. She had shown up, shook hands, and gotten flowers from people but those engagements weren’t what her heart was into.

Going to Columbia and New Zealand, that was when Isabella felt something. Isabella’s heart was into helping immigrants and refugees and because of the political backlash, she was forbidden to put her heart into something like that. But with this new project with her cousins, she could simply saw this her name wasn’t technically apart of it, therefore, she could not be held to the notion of violating the royal family’s rule of no political interference. It was a smart job on Isabella’s part.

“So I’m guessing we will be meeting in London a lot?” asked Felix.

“No. I was thinking any meeting would be done in Geneva or Chambord. Mutal meeting ground” answered Isabella.

-----

Per family tradition, Isabella and Harry had to wrangle three children to France to spend time with Isabella’s family in Cabasson. The family had grown large over the last couple of months including new babies and new people by marriage.

In the midst of all the chaos of several dozen people on a beach, Prince Wenceslas of Nassau, Isabella’s cousin, had announced his engagement to Countess Marie-Gabrielle von und zu Acro-Zinneberg. Countess Marie-Gabrielle von und zu Acro-Zinneberg was the granddaughter of Robert, Archduke of Austria-Este and a first cousin to Luisa Maria, Amedeo, and Joachim of Belgium. Her sister Olympia also recently gotten engaged to Jean-Christophe, Prince Napoleon. The surprise engagement had confused the family since Wenceslas had already been in a relationship with another woman.

But Isabella and Harry had understood Wenceslas more than anyone else. The fast engagement and little attention to the relationship was more than enough for Harry and Isabella to pull him aside. The moment they were out of public view the act Wenceslas was putting up had stopped.

“How are you?” asked Isabella.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” asked Wenceslas.

“I was sworn to secrecy,” answered Isabella with a hurt look. She never wanted to lie to her family but it needed to be done.

“Why did you agree to this?”

Harry stepped away knowing this was a conversation between cousins. Isabella grabbed her cousins' hands, “Because I understood the significance of a marriage between the Houses of Windsor and Habsburg.”

“I agreed to marry her because I thought it was the best thing. They explained to me what was supposed to happen. I thought if it wasn’t me then she would just marry someone else, someone horrible,” explained Wenceslas.

“So you thought she needed saving?” asked Harry.

“Not saving but I think I’m a good person. I think she’s a good person so why not just agree to their demands. We could learn to love each other.”

Isabella left out this horrid sound and the two men looked at her in confusion. It hurt Isabella to know those she loved were marrying for a title or for a dynastic marriage than marrying for love. She had come to terms with how Harry and she got together. They had grown to love each other, they had three beautiful children, and there were rough days but they got through them.

“Look, Wenceslas, trust me I understand where you are coming from and I understand the secrecy but entering this arrangement means it could go two ways. The first, you truly do fall in love and have a happy and long marriage, the second is you two hate each other. You have one or a couple of children then just divorce and can you honestly see another divorce will hurt this family. After what happened with Louis and Tessy-”  

“Marie-Gabrielle is not Tessy,” interrupted Wenceslas.

“Belle! Why are you keeping Wenceslas to yourself!?”

Within seconds Wenceslas walked away to avoid talking with his younger cousin. Isabella left out a huff and rolled her eyes, “What were you expecting from that?” asked Harry.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re sort of being a hypocrite in this situation,” added Harry.

“I am not!”

“You are. You did exactly what they are doing, so I don’t know why are getting upset about this. We’re happy.”

“Yes we are happy but what if their relationship turns out to be hell,” argued Isabella.

“We could have ended up that way but we didn’t and maybe they won’t either. You know Wenceslas and you know Marie Gabrielle to a certain extent, do you honestly believe they could hate each other?”

“They could learn, but you’re right. It’s just ever since Olga’s miscarriage and her unhappy marriage, I worry. You should hear what is happening to her daughter. That poor little girl is in a custody battle between her parents.”

“I didn’t know that,” mumbled Harry.

“Olga wants to move to Switzerland and take her daughter with her. George refuses to have his daughter in another country away from him. I recently heard that now the grandparents of that poor innocent girl are now fighting for custody. Olga parents want to take her to Texas in the states and George’s mother wants to take her to Spain.”

“I didn’t know that,” repeated Harry.

“Very few know. Olga happens to call me every once in a while and vent on the situation. George should have never married her. He wanted a royal wife, he just should have chosen someone else,” argued Isabella.

“We had some choice in our arrangement. I’m sure they did too so I wouldn’t worry too much,” replied Harry.

“Well, I understand that, but sometimes I can’t help it. Look at their marriage and look at ours. Such a difference but we are examples of what could happen when entering an arrangement.”

“You’re getting emotional. We should head to bed. We’ll stop by the children’s room so you can get a look at them before we go to bed, it will be good for you to see them after a day like this.”

[flatheadsforever]

The mayor of Livermore, California...

...explains Trump's popularity and success. This is perhaps the best explanation for Trump's popularity.

Marshall Kamena is a registered Democrat and was elected mayor of Livermore, CA. He ran on the democratic ticket as he knew a Bay Area city would never vote for a Republican. He is as conservative as they come. He wrote the following:

Trump's 'Lack of Decorum, Dignity and Statesmanship' By Marshall Kamena, Mayor of Livermore, CA.

My Leftist friends (as well as many ardent #NeverTrumpers) constantly ask me if I'm not bothered by Donald Trump's lack of decorum. They ask if I don't think his tweets are "beneath the dignity of the office."

Here's my answer: We Right-thinking people have tried dignity. There could not have been a man of more quiet dignity than George W. Bush as he suffered the outrageous lies and politically motivated hatreds that undermined his Presidency.

We tried statesmanship.

Could there be another human being on this earth who so desperately prized "congenial" as John McCain?

We tried propriety – has there been a nicer human being ever than Mitt Romney?

And the results were always the same. This is because, while we were playing by the rules of dignity, congeniality and propriety, the Left has been, for the past 60 years, engaged in a knife fight where the only rules are those of Saul Alinsky and the Chicago mob.

I don't find anything "dignified," "congenial" or "proper" about Barack Obama's lying about what went down on the streets of Ferguson in order to ramp up racial hatreds because racial hatreds serve the Democratic Party.

I don't see anything "dignified" in lying about the deaths of four Americans in Benghazi and imprisoning an innocent filmmaker to cover your tracks.

I don't see anything "statesman-like" in weaponizing the IRS to be used to destroy your political opponents and any dissent.

Yes, Obama was "articulate" and "polished" but in no way was he in the least bit "dignified," "congenial" or "proper."

The Left has been engaged in a war against America since the rise of the Children of the '60s. To them, it has been an all-out war where nothing is held sacred and nothing is seen as beyond the pale.. It has been a war they've fought with violence, the threat of violence, demagoguery and lies from day one – the violent take-over of the universities – until today.

The problem is that, through these years, the Left has been the only side fighting this war. While the Left has been taking a knife to anyone who stands in their way, the Right has continued to act with dignity, congeniality and propriety.

With Donald Trump, this all has come to an end. Donald Trump is America 's first wartime president in the Culture War.

During wartime, things like "dignity" and "congeniality" simply aren't the most essential qualities one looks for in their warriors. Ulysses Grant was a drunk whose behavior in peacetime might well have seen him drummed out of the Army for conduct unbecoming.

Had Abraham Lincoln applied the peacetime rules of propriety and booted Grant, the Democrats might well still be holding their slaves today. Lincoln rightly recognized that, "I cannot spare this man. He fights."

General George Patton was a vulgar-talking... In peacetime, this might have seen him stripped of rank. But, had Franklin Roosevelt applied the normal rules of decorum then, Hitler and the Socialists would barely be five decades into their thousand-year Reich.

Trump is fighting. And what's particularly delicious is that, like Patton standing over the battlefield as his tanks obliterated Rommel's, he's shouting, "You magnificent bastards, I read your book!"

That is just the icing on the cake, but it's wonderful to see that not only is Trump fighting, he's defeating the Left using their own tactics. That book is Saul Alinsky's Rules for Radicals – a book so essential to the Liberals' war against America that it is and was the playbook for the entire Obama administration and the subject of Hillary Clinton's senior thesis.

It is a book of such pure evil, that, just as the rest of us would dedicate our book to those we most love or those to whom we are most indebted, Alinsky dedicated his book to Lucifer.

Trump's tweets may seem rash and unconsidered but, in reality, he is doing exactly what Alinsky suggested his followers do. First, instead of going after "the fake media" — and they are so fake that they have literally gotten every single significant story of the past 60 years not just wrong, but diametrically opposed to the truth, from the Tet Offensive to Benghazi, to what really happened on the streets of Ferguson, Missouri — Trump isolated CNN.. He made it personal.

Then, just as Alinsky suggests, he employs ridicule which Alinsky described as "the most powerful weapon of all."... Most importantly, Trump's tweets have put CNN in an untenable and unwinnable position. They need to respond.

This leaves them with only two choices. They can either "go high" (as Hillary would disingenuously declare of herself and the fake news would disingenuously report as the truth) and begin to honestly and accurately report the news or they can double-down on their usual tactics and hope to defeat Trump with twice their usual hysteria and demagoguery.

The problem for CNN (et al.) with the former is that, if they were to start honestly reporting the news, that would be the end of the Democratic Party they serve. It is nothing but the incessant use of fake news (read: propaganda) that keeps the Left alive

Imagine, for example, if CNN had honestly and accurately reported then-candidate Barack Obama's close ties to foreign terrorists (Rashid Khalidi), domestic terrorists (William Ayers & Bernardine Dohrn), the mafia (Tony Rezko) or the true evils of his spiritual mentor, Jeremiah Wright's church.

Imagine if they had honestly and accurately conveyed the evils of the Obama administration's weaponizing of the IRS to be used against their political opponents or his running of guns to the Mexican cartels or the truth about the murder of Ambassador Christopher Stevens and the Obama administration's cover-up.

So, to my friends on the Left — and the #NeverTrumpers as well — do I wish we lived in a time when our President could be "congenial" and "dignified" and "proper"? Of course I do.

These aren't those times. This is war. And it's a war that the Left has been fighting without opposition for the past 50 years.

So, say anything you want about this President - I get it - he can be vulgar, he can be crude, he can be undignified at times. I don't care. I can't spare this man. He fights for America!

[the-manor-7]

Soulmate au - Namjoon pt.1

[au: Whatever you write on your skin, also appears on your soulmate's. This ability does not fade once you meet.] 

I stared down at my arm and waited for the usual response from my mystery-soulmate.  

I sipped my tea as I waited and looked around the small café I was sitting in.  

It was cute, with the theme being more nature oriented than other eateries. Vines grew in terraces that reached the ceiling, flowers grew in pots that were scattered about the room, and a few domesticated birds flew around, occasionally taking notice of what people were eating and getting curious.  

Despite the circumstantial susceptibility, the area was kept clean, with you rarely finding dirt or anything of the sort on the table or in the corners of the room.  

It really was a nice place.  

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement, and I looked down at my arm, seeing a smiley face.  

I was a senior, getting my doctorate degree in the English language and writing.  

The first time this exchange of ideas occurred was when I had a burst of spontaneous creativity and had no paper near me. Not wanting to lose the idea, I took a pen out of my purse and started writing an expansive paragraph on my arm.  

Now, normally, I do not write on my skin. I had the (in my opinion) bad habit trained out of me when I was a small child, so I never did indulge myself in the past. 

So, this was a new occurrence for me, but I still expected nothing of it.  

But, about an hour later, after I had finished writing and was getting on with my day, I happened to look down at my arm and saw something out of the ordinary.  

There was a new sentence on my arm, but not in my own handwriting. It read: "You must be my soulmate! Wow, this is good! What is this for?" 

Now, to tell you the truth, I did not reply until a few days later.  

Growing up, my mother had always been wary of someone stealing her personal information, and I had inherited that trait. Due to this, I was very reluctant to write anything else on my arm.  

But, curiosity got the best of me, and I replied: "Thank you for the compliment, and this is for my thesis that I need to write for school." 

I know, not something many would find as an appropriate response to a new-found soulmate. But, at least I replied (that's what I like to think). 

This pattern had been repeating for a few months now.  

I write down a new idea, or something of the sort, and my soulmate replied.  

The messages just started out as a vague question or praise, but they soon morphed into spelling/grammar corrections or new ideas.  

Despite myself, I started to realize many of these new ideas I found intriguing and rather fitting, and I began to use them.  

Somewhere along the way, they began to write lyrics on their arm, and I gave them pointers and praise on those.  

This went on for a few months, and here I am today.  

Today I had written another paragraph for a school paper, and the awaited reply came, as usual, but something new was written on my skin (or that of my soulmate, however you like to think of it). It read: "This is very good! Where do you go to school?" 

This immediately made my hackles stand up and I glared down at the message, wishing it would disappear.  

But, it didn't, it stayed on my arm the rest of the day, all through my classes and until I reached my apartment.  

After I had cleaned myself up and gotten something to eat, I sat down on my couch and rolled my sleeve up.  

I looked down at the most recent message and sighed.  

Realizing what I was doing was ridiculous, I picked up a pen and decided to reply truthfully: "Thank you! And I go to school at the University of Idaho." 

There was a quick response: "That is in America, right?" 

I placed the pen down on my skin again: "Yes, it is. Why are you asking?" 

"I am traveling to America next week, and I wondered if you wanted to meet up and go to a concert or something." 

"Where would the concert be?" 

"New York" 

I sighed: "Sorry, but as you know, I am a college student trying to get my doctorate. I'm broke." 

They took a few minutes to reply: "I can pay for your ticket. But, I need to know your name and address so I can send it to you." 

Before I lost my nerve, I haphazardly scribbled down my personal information on my arm.  

"Oh, your name is (y/f/n)? That name is very pretty!" 

I grumbled: "Thanks, now I think I deserve to know your name too." 

"Sorry," the answer was written down slowly, "But, you're going to have to wait until we meet. You'll understand then." 

I glared at the familiar handwriting before replying: "Fine. Who are we going to see?" 

"The group is called BTS." 

Being the information-freak that I am, I pulled out my laptop and looked up the group.  

They seemed to be a popular K-Pop group by the looks of it. Their members were: Jin, Suga, J-Hope, RM, Jimin, V, and Jungkook.  

"I'm assuming you're looking them up?" 

I paused to write back: "Of course." 

"Lol, you nerd." 

"You're one to talk." I paused: "By the way, how come you can pay for my ticket, but I can't? How old are you?" 

It took them a few minutes to reply: "I'm twenty-four. What about you?" 

"Twenty-seven." 

"That makes sense, and the age difference isn't too big. That's good right?" 

"It's fine. I'm comfortable with it." 

"Can I ask you some more personal questions?" 

"Why are you asking all of this now? We've been communicating for a few months, now." 

"I figured one of us had to start the conversation. Do you mind if I ask?" 

I glared down at the question: "I'm sorry, but I actually do mind. I would rather not give any more personal information before I learn yours." 

"That's fine! I was just asking in case you agreed. And I can understand that, I'm hiding mine right now." 

"Exactly. Besides, I already gave you my address. I think that's enough for now." 

I looked at my arm that was now covered in ink.  

"You're making a mess of my arm, I'm going to go wash it off." 

"Wait!" 

I stared down at the word as I froze on my way down the hallway.  

"Ok, you can do it now. I'll clean mine off too." 

I began to walk again.  

Once it was done, I sat back down on the couch and watched as the ink on my soulmate's arm quickly faded away.  

"So, when is the concert?" 

"April 28th." 

*** 

I looked up at the arena as the people around me murmured in excitement.  

Today was the day, April 28th.  

True to their word, my soulmate had sent me a ticket for my flight and the concert.  

Despite my better judgment, I had actually stepped onto the plane, and now here I am. Granted, the entire time I was on the plane, I was berating myself for my stupidity.  

Couldn't I have just waited a little longer?! I only have two more months of school left! And I still have exams to study for and a thesis to finish!! 

Halfway through the flight, I felt like punching through the window and jumping out, going back to school and everything I had worked so long and hard for.  

But, later, I managed to calm myself down to a more stable state of mind. 

Though, I'm sure the process had been amusing to watch. I've been told many times I'm as easy to read as an open book.  

Back to the present, I am now entering the arena, drifting among the almost hysterical fans.  

I took out a pen and wrote on my arm: "Where are you?" 

The reply came back a few minutes later: "Are you in the arena?" 

"Yes, now answer my question." 

It took them a couple more minutes: "Sorry, I just contracted a fever and a headache this morning, and I don't think I'm going to be able to make it to the concert. Can I meet up with you afterwards?" 

I stared at the message in disbelief.  

I just traveled across the country to see them, and they're backing out the last minute?! 

I calmed myself down (but only slightly) and thought about their health: "Fine." 

"I'm really sorry. I hope you enjoy the concert, though!" 

I decided not to reply.  

Steeling my nerves, I walked into the crowd of screaming people.  

*** 

I sighed as I waited in line to meet BTS's members.  

'Why are you here?' Some people might wonder. 

Well, halfway through the concert, my soulmate wrote down another message on their arm: "Make sure to go to the fan-sign. I payed for that too." 

And that's why I find myself standing here, in front of Jin.  

"Hello! What is your name?" He asked as he smiled at me.  

Politely, I smiled back, "It's nice to meet you, my name is Crystal." 

"Oh, really?" He grabbed my album that I had bought not fifteen minutes before and signed it, "There you go, have a nice day!" 

I smiled and bid him farewell as I moved on to Suga.  

I found Suga amusing. He was pleasant and easy to talk to, but also very sarcastic (since he had a better understanding of the English language). 

The next person was J-Hope, who reminded me of one of my closest friends. Full of energy and can talk a mile a minute.  

When I took my seat in front of Namjoon, he smiled at me, and held out his hand to shake, "It's nice to meet you, what is your name?" 

I took his hand, "It's nice to meet you as well, my name is (y/f/n)." 

His eyes widened, "Does your name happen to be '(y/f/n) (y/l/n)'?" He said, hesitantly.  

I quirked an eyebrow, "How do you know my name?" 

"Well..." he pulled up his sleeve and displayed his arm, "l just might be your soulmate." 

I looked at the messages scribbled across his arm and looked back up at him.  

"You," I pointed a finger at him, "Better have a good explanation. Do you know how much stress you put me through? I still have a thesis to finish, and you know that!" 

He had the audacity to laugh as he pulled his sleeve back down, "Yep, you definitely have the same personality." 

"And you kept your personal information hidden, what is the point of that?" 

"I'm a famous K-Pop idol, I can't just give my identity out to anyone, can I? Besides, I wanted it to be a surprise. Is that not a good enough reason?" 

"No!" I flicked him in the forehead, "That's for tricking me into coming here and then abandoning me." 

He rubbed his face and chuckled, "I had to get you here somehow. And I'm in the concert, it's not like I can be two places at once. But," he leaned forward and looked me in the eye, "I'm sorry I lied. Do you forgive me?" 

I huffed before a smile began to grow on my face, "Fine. But, you owe me dinner." 

"Deal. Wait..." it was his turn to get frustrated (if you could even call it that, he wasn't even angry), "Didn't I buy you the tickets to get here?" 

"Yes" My smile was sickly-sweet, "But that's your duty, since we're soulmates, you know?" 

He stared at me before shaking his head and laughing, "You really are something. And fine, I'll take you out to dinner." 

I smiled, "Thanks." 

Just then, a fan yelled at me to get out of the way.  

He looked at me, guilty, "I'll meet up with you later, then?" 

"Sure, that's fine. Right after everything is over?"  

He nodded before signing my album and winking at me before moving onto the next person.  

Well then, looks like I've found my soulmate. And it turns out, they just happen to be famous.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave comments and requests!

Thank you, 

The_Manor

Masterlist

[theliberaltony]

via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

Welcome to FiveThirtyEight’s weekly politics chat. The transcript below has been lightly edited.

sarahf (Sarah Frostenson, politics editor): Former vice president Joe Biden has consistently led in early primary polls, and in head-to-head polls against President Trump, but he still hasn’t entered the 2020 Democratic presidential primary (although he’s expected to declare in April).

But who wants Biden to run? He doesn’t seem to be regarded as a front runner by party activists or those already in the field, and now two women have alleged that Biden touched them inappropriately, resurfacing his history of being physical in his interactions with women. [Editor’s note: After we finished this chat concluded, The New York Times published a report about two more women who described physical interactions with Biden that made them uncomfortable]

Is it possible that the stakes of running in the Democratic Party have shifted so much that Biden now poses too much of a liability?

meredithconroy (Meredith Conroy, political science professor at California State University and FiveThirtyEight contributor): It’s too early to say whether these sorts of stories about Biden, which have been circulating for years, are enough to sink his chances. But as FiveThirtyEight’s Clare Malone said on the politics podcast, the way Lucy Flores has told her story recasts the incident as a more serious allegation, and less as late night talk show fodder.

perry (Perry Bacon Jr., senior writer): A candidate who leads in the polls and has some major figures in the party clamoring for him to run is in a pretty good position to weather this kind of controversy, I think. Prominent female Democrats, like Nancy Pelosi, are even saying what has emerged over the last week is not disqualifying.

natesilver (Nate Silver, editor in chief): I don’t quite know what to think. If you follow the reaction on Twitter, a lot of people think the accusations are a big deal for Biden. But, a lot of those people didn’t have Biden as one of their top choices to begin with.

The biggest outstanding question I have for Biden is — where are the “party elites” clamoring for him to run. He has three endorsements — granted, you might not expect him to have many since he isn’t running yet — but two of those are senators from Delaware (his home state) and one is California Sen. Diane Feinstein, who is not a bad endorsee but also not the voice of a new generation of Democrats, exactly.

sarahf: It seems as if we’re seeing a generational divide play out here. I thought this Politico headline captured it well: “’Friendly grandpa’ or creepy uncle? Generations split over Biden behavior.”

perry: I definitely think you are seeing people who were inclined to support a more moderate figure and people who are older defending him. Polls show Biden doing really well with older Democrats (age 50 and older) and not as well with young voters. People who are younger and more liberal seem more inclined to attack Biden, but I suspect they weren’t that excited to see him run in the first place.

meredithconroy: I was having this conversation with some friends (I’m fun at parties) about whether Biden tests the “Party Decides” thesis if he doesn’t get elite support, but still wins the nomination.

My thought is that he doesn’t necessarily need institutional support to win. He has enough name recognition and goodwill (even now) to run and win without endorsements. I’m also in the camp that in today’s social media environment, the process is candidate-centered and not party-centered, and therefore the “Party Decides” idea is moot, but that’s a conversation for another day.

natesilver: I don’t know, I think what former President Obama does, in particular, is important. A lot of Biden’s popularity among rank-and-file Democrats stems from his association with Obama. If Obama endorses, say, Kamala Harris instead, that would be a pretty huge deal. And I tend not to think that Obama would do that, at least not in the early stages, but the lack of support for Biden is something that voters might notice. Maybe.

My question is not so much whether Biden can find a constituency within the Democratic Party, but whether he can be a unifying figure. And that seems harder now. Maybe the Flores accusations are partly a proxy for larger, generational issues, which is not to say they aren’t serious unto themselves. Still, this is a part of the party deciding, if you will. And the fact that Biden doesn’t seem to be able to control the narrative is a negative for him.

perry: So they seem like two different issues. One, is this disqualifying for Biden as a candidate?

The second question is how this changes the nature of his campaign if he enters. I assume this guarantees that his first week or so as a candidate will be dominated by questions about how he treats women. And the overall campaign environment will be hard. Biden will have to be more disciplined –and he is not known for that.

natesilver: Just thinking out loud here: There’s also the case to be made that things get better for Biden if he runs. If you’re sitting on the sidelines, just one narrative can dominate the conversation about you, e.g. Elizabeth Warren and the DNA test. But once you start running, you generate other sorts of news and create more context.

meredithconroy: Right, once he is in, he’s able to fill in this vacuum. But the Democratic Party is increasingly the party of women’s rights and equality, so I do think his pitch is going to be harder to sell.

sarahf: Granted, this story is from January, but even then, there was a perception that no major candidate was waiting on Biden to decide before they decided to run themselves. Do we think that’s accurate? Or do we really think Terry McAuliffe and maybe Michael Bloomberg are sitting in the wings, still waiting?

natesilver: I’m sort of torn. Because it can both be true that Biden is much weaker than his clear No. 1 status in the polls would imply, and that he’s a little bit more formidable than sort of young-ish NYC/DC journalists might assume, and they’re the ones that drive a lot of the conversation.

perry: If you lead in every poll, isn’t that a sign people want you to run? And just in talking to older black voters, they tell me they do want Biden to run, because they feel like he is the person most likely to beat Trump. And they are really fearful of a second term for Trump. This is anecdotal, but it’s not irrelevant.

natesilver: He maybe has that electability argument going for him. The thing is that some of the other Democrats — notably, Bernie — have seen their poll numbers against Trump decline once they decided to run. And while Biden’s numbers are strong now, they’d presumably be set to decline as well.

But I do think there’s a question here of: “Who will older voters be comfortable with?” Beto and Buttigieg will do plenty well with moderates (as well as liberals who don’t think of themselves as part of the left) under the age of 50. But that’s not really Biden’s constituency, and who competes with him for older Democrats?

In the abstract, if there were similar accusations against Sanders or Beto, that would be a bigger problem, because they’re relying more on young voters, and young voters are much more likely to consider that type of behavior to be inappropriate.

meredithconroy: I’m not so sure, Nate. A poll from the Economist late last year found that a sizable percentage of Democratic women over the age of 65 are less willing to tolerate sexual harassment from men. Biden could be in trouble with older women voters.

perry: But Biden is somewhat unique in that he appeals to both moderates and older people, and not just older-white-guy moderates. He is not ex-Gov. John Hickenlooper of Colorado (who is already in the race) or former New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg or Sen. Michael Bennet of Colorado (both of whom are thinking about running). Those three are likely to find few voters outside of older, moderate white male Democratic voters. This means if Biden does not run, I think that’s not just good for Hickenlooper or other older white men. I think that’s good for almost everyone, particularly any candidate who’s looking to win the support of black voters, older voters and party loyalists.

sarahf: I think that’s right, Perry. That if Biden didn’t run, that’d be good for practically everyone. He really is the only candidate who fits the bill as a member of the establishment’s old guard. Which means if he didn’t run, there could be a pretty diverse coalition of support to split among the other candidates.

perry: But if Biden does run, I think that Bloomberg, former Gov. Terry McAuliffe of Virginia and Montana Gov. Steve Bullock in particular don’t have much of a path.

They probably didn’t have much of a path even if Biden didn’t run, but Biden does kind of take up the “electable man” lane, particularly with Mayor Pete, Beto and Booker also in that space.

Rep. Seth Moulton of Massachusetts and Rep. Tim Ryan of Ohio should be hoping Biden stays out.

Run, Joe, run! We need fewer candidates! Help us.

meredithconroy: Ha. Question: Is Biden more electable because he can win over aggrieved Republicans and moderates? That’s the story, right? That he is more broadly appealing than a liberal like Sanders or Warren.

natesilver: I do think there’s a fair amount of evidence that moderates over-perform candidates on the wings, other things held equal. So that part of Biden’s electability argument isn’t bad. He also has better favorables than any of the other Democrats for now, although that could very easily change.

sarahf: So say Biden runs … does that especially hurt Mayor Pete’s chances? Or Beto’s? Booker’s? Klobuchar’s? (Essentially, anyone who’s trying to run a platform that isn’t too far to the left.)

meredithconroy: Sarah, if you buy into the “white guy lane,” Biden definitely takes votes from the other white guys.

natesilver: I’m going to give a slightly counterintuitive view. I think the candidate who might be helped most by Biden not running — or hurt most if he does run — is Kamala Harris.

Biden’s popularity with black voters is a problem for her building a constituency.

I also wonder if some “party elites” might come off the sidelines for Harris if Biden were to decline to run.

perry: Harris is probably one of the most establishment-friendly candidates in the race, so big donors and people who backed Clinton in the 2016 primary would, I’m sure, prefer her over, say, Sanders. But don’t you think if Biden didn’t run, maybe there’s an argument that it would help Beto most?

natesilver: It’d help Beto, but there’s a pretty big generational divide between his support and Biden’s, I’d gather.

On the “party elites” side, I think it might push some older, moderate endorsers to back Beto.

But I think he might have to prove his case more to older voters.

perry: For the party-elite types who think a woman can’t win the general election (not a view I agree with but I hear it from a lot of rank and file voters), Biden not running is probably good for Beto.

But in terms of voters, Harris and Booker are probably helped a lot if Biden doesn’t run. They could get more of the non-Sanders vote and the black vote.

natesilver: I suppose it’s also possible that some ex-Obamaworld people are torn between Biden and Beto, so Biden not running could free up some staff talent and big donors, too.

perry: Are we sure it would not help Sanders?

natesilver: It could help Bernie, sure.

perry: Like if you are in second place and the person in first place removes himself from the race, that is good for you, right?

natesilver: Yeah, every other candidate’s chances go up. And Bernie is actually the second choice of a plurality of Biden voters. Although I do wonder if some of that is name recognition.

sarahf: Yeah, I’m curious how that changes as we get farther into the cycle.

natesilver: The dynamic I don’t like if I’m Bernie is if Biden doesn’t get in, which would probably help the party establishment settle on one (non-Bernie) candidate.

perry: After watching 2016 (when the GOP establishment failed to consolidate around an alternative to Trump), I’m more skeptical that will happen, but maybe Democrats are more disciplined than Republicans.

natesilver: I mean, you could certainly draw some parallels between Biden and Jeb Bush. Bush wasn’t off to a very good start, but he also froze party elite support, stopping it from going to other candidates. The flaw in that parallel is that Biden is polling at 30 percent instead of 10 percent or what have you.

meredithconroy: In 2016, I think the GOP party elite sat out because of a lack of good candidates. But in 2020 I think Democrats are sitting out because there are so many good candidates. So I think this year some party elites are frozen, waiting for Biden to decide.

natesilver: Part of me wonders whether Biden might go nuclear on Bernie, which could have a variety of effects. The Biden campaign is already (anonymously) blaming Sanders for the “handsy” stories, which seems a little weird because it seemed inevitable to me that those were going to become a topic of conversation anyway.

sarahf: But I guess as to the question of whether Biden could be a unifying force in the party — these allegations seem to undermine that idea. And point to the fact that he might be out of touch, or not the best representative of the direction the Democratic Party is moving. Do we think that’s a fair way to think about how these allegations impact Biden’s candidacy?

perry: If Trump’s approval had jumped to 48 percent after Attorney General William Barr issued a four-page letter on the Mueller report to Congress, this would be all different.

A lot of the force driving Biden’s potential candidacy is electability. And so if Trump looked really strong right now that would help Biden.

natesilver: That’s why I’m coming back to thinking Harris might be the long-term beneficiary of this. She probably has the best unify-the-party argument, at least among the people who are polling at more than 5 percent now. (Booker would be interesting, too, if his polling were livelier.)

perry: I’m not totally sure I think Biden’s situation as a candidate is that different than it was two weeks ago. Some parts of the party that already wanted him to go away are now saying that in public, but he still has strong poll numbers and is in good standing with the party’s elected officials (Pelosi).

Biden has not been eliminated by this controversy. But it has to have shown him that this will be a tough campaign if he enters. And he hasn’t entered yet, which tells me there must be some hesitancy on his part.

meredithconroy: Maybe the question (for another chat) is what kind of scandal rises to the level of hurting a candidate in the general election.

natesilver: Sure. It’s part of the process of the party deciding. Seeing who the party defends and who it doesn’t is important, as well as how capable candidates are at handling negative stories. But part of the process is also testing the candidate’s electability argument and looking for flaws that could cost them the general election.

The weird thing about the Biden story is that it’s very hard to see Trump, for obvious reasons, pressing back on Biden too much without it backfiring.

meredithconroy: You’d think so, right? But I think Republicans are happy to keep scandals like this Biden story in the news. The more that accusations against men that don’t seem to rise to the level of harassment are litigated online, the more conservative voters are mobilized against something that they find really fishy in American politics today, which is believing women to a fault. Or falsely accusing men.

natesilver: Yeah, that’s a fair point, Meredith. So maybe we are overlooking the possibility of a backlash to the backlash against Biden?

I don’t want to reveal too much because it was a private conversation, but I was talking to an older (male) Democratic friend this weekend and I’d guess he’s probably more likely to vote for Biden now than he was before. He was also very against how Democrats handled the Al Franken accusations. And Kirsten Gillibrand’s campaign seems to be totally flatlining in part because she spoke out about Al Franken and Bill Clinton.

meredithconroy: I absolutely think Franken looms large in the minds of Democrats. Aaron Blake at the Washington Post wrote on Monday that “there is a palpable sense that Democrats overreacted and that Franken was a victim of too high a standard.”

Democrats have become the party that voters trust more to handle incidents of sexual harassment and misconduct. A candidate who is known for being “handsy” with women, could jeopardize this.

natesilver: I think these accusations are likely to be more of a problem for Biden among party elites than among rank-and-file voters, but party elites are important, too.

From ABC News:

[southboundhqarchive]

MEET LUZ,

FULL NAME › Luz Fuentes DeDios AGE › thirty GENDER › Cis female (She/Her/Hers) FROM › Yakima, Washington RESIDENCE › Laguna Street (Midtown) OCCUPATION › Acting Owner of Los Gatos Taqueria NOW PLAYING › Moment Of Truth by Gang Starr

BIOGRAPHY,

trigger warnings: cancer, death of a parent, divorce

AEGEAN BRONZE AGE ( 3,000-2,000 BCE )

when luz is small, she hears the story of her birth a thousand times. she can recite it by heart. it is a perfect day in may and her mother dolores has been walking for days, tired of carrying around a belly so swollen with life that she is certain she could fit her own body inside of it. it has been five months since dolores has seen her husband and she does not think he’ll ever come home from some godforsaken war across the sea. the truth is that he never does–not even for his only daughter. donald cameron dies alone on the same day his daughter luz takes her first breath after an arduous labor in the back of an ambulance on the way from pioneer park to saint mary medical center.

dolores tells the story as if she was in both places at once. at her husband’s side as a fatal bullet cut him down like a blade of grass and holding her own hand as she pushed and screamed on the rigid gurney. luz thinks that her mother must see everything. it is that childhood belief that protects her from the troubles that follow her cousins like black cats and shadows. it’s different as an only child, she knows that her mother has only one person in the whole wide world and she must live up to her mother’s need to be whole.

next door, the abandoned house sits behind a chain link fence. dozens of stone animals litter the yard and porch and it becomes young luz’s playground. she digs in the dirt, unburying hidden treasures and her cousins laugh and call her indiana jones. the book of greek myths her father left behind is never far from her mind and even as a small girl, sole knows she will walk in the colosseum and excavate along the mediterranean. the excavations are fun and so is time spent with her cousins, but she can’t help being envious of her cousins’ closeness with one another. without a father, she wonders how she can ever have a sibling when her father is nothing but a cold, marble headstone.

grief waxes and wanes for dolores, who knows as much about suffering as her name might suggest. linda is a salve for old pains as they ease. the two meet when linda begins waitressing at the restaurant dolores cooks at. the love is slow at first–neither woman sure what the other wants–but it is built on a solid foundation. linda has a son, francisco, and soon the fuentes pair become of family of four. francisco and luz are close enough in age that the pair become fast friends–basketball in the driveway, late night action movie binges–they’re inseparable.

school is easy for luz, who is an avid reader and an energetic learner with a solid family to support her. she quickly earns playful jeering from her cousins for being a pocha as she works hard to fit in. despite focusing on student government and basketball, she is well regarded among her peers. she is the kind of girl that makes it hard not to like–an easy going, laid back girl with a jock’s ponytail and a sharp wit. the girl is made for something great and her mother works tirelessly to afford uniforms and ap textbooks. luz fuentes is going somewhere.

MINOAN PALATIAL PERIOD ( 2,600-1,400 BCE )

it’s not the dream she had far away in the esteemed halls of colleges like cambridge, oxford, or harvard. no, whitman college–so named for the whitman incident in which a missionary is forced to pay for his crimes and yet is remembered as the white hero–is just down the street from her modest childhood home. it’s strange, then, how different of a world it seems to her. the liberal arts college is not the place she belongs as she did in high school. it’s an entirely different world. she works in the cafeteria to offset the costs her scholarships don’t cover, plays basketball for the team, and has dinner with her mother every sunday if not more. it’s not a bad life.

the classroom and court are the places where luz feels like she can really be herself. pieces of her are lost in conversations among classmates that she does not relate to and she plunges herself head first into work and family, which is the most she’s ever known. when she finds her true calling, she’s paralyzed–they don’t offer a major in bioarchaeology. with the help of a couple of advisors, she makes her own–blending anthropology, biology, geology, and chemistry together in a blissful salve that mends even the deepest wounds gained in the thirst to prove that she can be everything her mother needs. her sacrifices will not be for nothing.

when she graduates, she feels a whirlwind sense of accomplishment. she is accepted to field school in crete where she can study the minoan and mycenaean cultures to her heart’s content. it is there she develops her fascination with bones and death and focuses her interest on funerary archaeology–a subject she will study at length at the university of tennessee’s bioarchaeology doctoral program. she can sometimes hear her father calling her and she knows that she must reunite the dead with their loved ones.

THE HEROIC AGE ( 1,600-1,100 BCE )

on a quiet, hot summer night she falls in love with another doctoral student a few years her senior. they drink raki and let the waves and sand massage their weary feet. they return to tennessee and luz feels her stomach swelling with the prospect of life. rodrigo is a warm heart and though he is not prepared for fatherhood he takes to it, like he does with most things, with gusto. if there is apprehension in luz’s heart it is quelled by the worry in her mother’s voice through the telephone lines–please tell me you are going to marry him, mija. luz fuentes dedios has never broken her mother’s heart.

nayeli guadalupe esparza is born, much like her mother, on a summer’s day and is named for rodrigo and luz’s grandmothers. she holds her so tight that rodrigo is afraid she might break her. the young parents find that they love nayeli enough that it doesn’t matter if they love each other half as much. it won’t be long before they find out that they don’t love one another at all anymore.

weddings and motherhood do not stop a determined woman. luz knows that women have always persevered more obstacles than their male peers and she is determined to not let her dreams fall by the wayside. their lives are not easy–both spend long hours teaching and learning while preparing their own research. dolores and linda move from walla walla, selling their home by the house with the stone animal statues, the train tracks and the cornfield–which is now a burger king and a dollar tree. she does sewing and odd jobs while she cares for her granddaughter nayeli with her chubby cheeks and bright brown eyes.

in their final years, the couple move to crete to finish their research in the field. both grow tired of working, living, and raising a daughter together and the break-up is messy. nayeli is five years old when they realize they can no longer make their relationship work and when the grant money runs out, luz is forced to return to the united states to finish her doctoral thesis with no funding and no job prospects. rodrigo stays on at the research center and there is no arguing that nayeli is better off living with a parent who can provide for her. luz is crestfallen.

it’s hard to come back home, especially when there is no home to come back to. while things fall apart in crete, mothers dolores and linda have moved to a place called boot hill, arizona to fulfill their dream of opening their first restaurant together. across the ocean and the earth, somehow they’ve all lost touch and even cisco doesn’t hear from them except an ominous, staticky voicemail telling him that linda has gotten sick. there’s nowhere else to go to start over except to search for a new home and pray that her mothers are okay.

THE MYCENAEAN PERIOD ( 1,300-1,000 BCE )

boot hill, arizona isn’t on luz’s gps, but she knows there are small ghost towns scattered throughout the desert and wonders if maybe her mothers found some hole in the wall place in the process of a revitalization movement. the closer she gets to arizona, the clearer it seems in her mind–the more she senses that she must get to her mothers. she drives on instinct. she drives on faith. she drives all night until the rising sun illuminates the sign to boot hill. it seems like the strangest thing in the world to have found a place without a map–to have found the place without a map–but the further she gets into the charming arizona town it seems like fate.

it’s been too long, luz thinks, because her mothers barely recognize her at first and, with linda’s deteriorating condition, the feeling is mutual. there are a lot of tears in the living room of the house on laguna street, but there is even more hope. linda’s fight with breast cancer is not over, but treatment is going well. the difficulty lies in how sick it makes her and how much time has been spent away from their taqueria. happy to reunite with her mothers and help, luz agrees to take over the running of the restaurant and thinks that, maybe, it will help her in the international custody battle with rodrigo. she takes over the day-to-day operations and management of los gatos locos, but continues to work on her thesis in her spare time. slowly, but she remembers how to breathe again it’s hard to wake up everyday without braiding her daughter’s soft curls and listening to a giggling tale of the girl’s dreams from the night before. she misses greece and, on her worst days, she thinks she might even miss rodrigo.

❝ i am still in the labyrinth, and i must be willing to get lost before i am saved. it is only when i abandon myself that i am saved. ❞

CENSUS,

FACECLAIM › Lindsey Morgan AUTHOR › Lucia

[thotyssey]

On Point With: Darlinda Just Darlinda

A veteran burlesquer, dancer and performance artist, Darlinda Just Darlinda continues to make her mark in nightlife and the arts world at large. On the eve of the premiere of her new project, DJD gives us the scoop on what this is, where’s she’s been and where she’s going!

Thotyssey: Hey Darlinda! I was wondering how last night's show at the House of Yes went... EXTRA!

Darlinda Just Darlinda: Hello! EXTRA Burlesque was awesome! LadyBox Theater did a takeover! My co-founders Peekaboo Pointe and Tansy did solos, and we were joined by one of our core dancers Vic Sin for a sneak peek of Untitled Rainbow Project that's debuting at Wild Project on Thursday 9/6 for a limited four show run!

We're gonna get into the deets of that intriguing project in a bit! So you are well known here for being a burlesquer, a dancer, a performance artist, a choreographer and show producer for a minute now. Were you always all of these things, or did some of these evolve over time after others?

Yes! I've been involved with dance, and  theater since I was a child. My mom was a producer of a non-profit dance series in the 80's, and they were both on the board of the local theater company. They put me in all the dance, comedy improvisation and theater classes that were available in my tiny Northern California town. 

So naturally I got my BA in Theater Direction. In college I directed The Vagina Monologues twice and for my senior thesis I directed Hedwig and The Angry Inch. I was obsessed with drag, but didn't know how to fit it in with my female body. When I graduated college, I discovered burlesque and realized that it was a combination of all the things I  loved... and haven't looked back in 15 years!

I was wondering how your stage name came about.

I actually found the name “Darlinda” in college one day, when I met this fantastic woman in a red, white and blue Swarovski crystal encrusted leather jacket. Her name was Darlinda--, I'd never heard the name before. Then a week later, I was shopping at the Monterey County dump's thrift store called Last Chance Mercantile, and I found a burgundy satin jacket with the name “Darlinda” on the front and a RAINBOW on the back, I also found some rainbow booty shorts that same day(apart from being queer, I've always been obsessed with rainbows). I lost the jacket at a show, but the shorts are still alive and well. 

Then when it was time to get a burlesque stage name, I thought about it... "Darlinda... just Darlinda, like Madonna!" then I changed my mind because I realized "Darlinda Just Darlinda is funny and catchy!" Sometimes it confuses people, so I have to reiterate, " first name Darlinda, last name also Darlinda, middle name Just!"

That’s a crazy coincidence, that odd name popping up twice in such a short time.

Right, I couldn't escape the name! Amazing!

Dita Von Teese just performed at Wigstock, and she’s arguably the most conventionally famous burlesquer... but the classic style she performs in is not what a lot of today’s burlesque dancers do. 

I wanted to go to Wigstock, but since I had a show, I was only able to see an hour of it... so it didn't seem cost effective. Anyway, Dita is great: she employs a lot of my friends, her shows are a Grand Spectacle, and I really appreciate seeing that kind of artistry on a big gorgeous stage!

 How would you describe your own burlesque... like, what are your goals when you perform?

My burlesque style is what I call Performance Art Burlesque. I tell stories, make political statements, do actual rituals, and sometimes just make people laugh and sing... along like my "Wind Beneath My Wings" act. My goals are to inspire people to feel something, to improve their lives, to be present and love themselves!

These days, burlesque is often about body positivity and female empowerment... these are important traits in the Trump / #MeToo reality. But I guess there will always be naysayers, feminists and misogynists alike, who dismiss it as objectification. How would you respond to them?

I have a #MeToo reverse striptease and an Anti-Trump striptease. Body objectification is only bad when the person who's body it is doesn't give consent, or isn't properly paid for what they do. I art model and strip! I've made my living consensually and consciously objectifying my body. It's my artistic "paint brush." One minute I'm doing a cute "patriotic" striptease... the next minute I'm physically nauseated, naked, pulling a photo of #45 out of my pussy so I can tear it up and tear up the patriarchy.

Werk! You and Minnie Tonka form the burlesque-producing duo The Schlep Sisters, best known for bringing us an amazing annual Hanukkah show, and more recently the “Boy Vey” revue at Coney Island. 

We will celebrate our 15-year Anniversary in Feburary 2019, and  our 12th Annual “Menorah Horah” during Hanukah (December 2-10th 2018)!

And you two did some drag in that Coney Island show!

"Boy Vey” in August, was our first time being drag kings together! 

Is there anything else in the works from you two?

Minnie Tonka is in Untitled Rainbow Project this week, and is focusing a lot of her energy on her nutritional therapy practice called Wellness HQ.

Tell us about Ladybox. What’s the history of this theater group?

Yes, LadyBox Theater! Tansy, Peekaboo Pointe and I got together in January when I wanted to start working on my new Dance Theater show Untitled Rainbow Project. They had been working on their performance art piece Feast  for a few years, so it seemed fitting that we band together to start our own dance theater / performance art group, and LadyBox was formed. Tansy has a background in theater, choreographing and starring in Eager to Lose at Ars Nova. Peekaboo Pointe has both a degree in dance, and is currently getting her Masters in Theater Technology. 

With our cumulative decades of nightlife / burlesque entertainment, it seemed like the perfect time to start this company. I have dabbled in off-Broadway and noticed a huge male-centric influence on theater / performance art, that is super oriented towards gay men... but not so much queer women. So it's been really thrilling making this work with mostly queer women on the steering wheel! There are some men on stage, but it’s a mostly women-run company. It surprisingly feels revolutionary, because it shouldn't in 2018. But in the #45 regime, women's rights are threatened, so now is a huge time to stand up for our rights. 

On a more logistical level..., once the company is up and running, we've got a few productions under our belt. We want to produce other female, queer, trans, POC, performance art/ dance/ theater makers. We hope the LadyBox can be a place for all folks to make their art! We are being produced by the amazing  Mighty Lucky Productions for this launch, and from this we hope to start our non-profit and apply for grants!

Why is your piece called Untitled Rainbow Project, by the way?

I've been doing performance art with a rainbow theme for some time, 10 years ago I did A Year in Rainbow, a year-long "life as art" project where every other month I would wear a color of the rainbow. I did a daily blog about it, as well as a show each month honoring the color... and the in-between months I would wear rainbow every day. Anyway, for the past 10 years I wanted to do another rainbow project, and so I came up with the idea to do a loosely-autobiographical story using the rainbow color chakras as a storytelling device. For example, Red has inspired Birth and Sex! Orange is about Divinity! Yellow is Intuition. Green is the violence of love. Blue is speaking your truth and your voice. And Purple is a Royal Explosion! I couldn't think of a name for the piece, so I just used Untitled Rainbow Project for a filler, and it just stuck!

Amazing! Well it should make for a fascinating experience of viewing at Wild Project on September 6th, 7th and 8th!

I understand that on premiere night (Sept. 6th), there will be an epic opening party at Club Cumming, where the URP shall be performing with other greats.

YES, exactly! Club Cumming has been such a supportive breeding ground for nightlife in the past year, so it seemed like the PERFECT spot to hold our after party and fundraiser. I'm SUPER THRILLED to have Ana Matronic be our DJ! There will be performances, and a live auction of some amazing art!! I'm SO looking forward to it!

And this weekend, you’re gonna do Bushwig! What’s your slot, and what shall you be doing?

I'm at Bushwig Sunday Night (Sept. 8) 9:20pm. I'll be doing "Wind Beneath my Wings," my favorite lip synch striptease. Two words: "expect pussy!"

Pussy Power!

Anything else?

 I'm a resident performer at Extra Burlesque at House of Yes, and Fuck You Revue at Bizarre Bushwick. So folks can find me at their monthly shows!

Okay last question: in your opinion or even experience, what is the absolute worst song to burlesque to?

Oh, that's a tough question. First one that comes to mind is Cher’s "Welcome to Burlesque." It’s TOO obvious. BUT I could see someone doing a parody to that song. That's really the joy of burlesque: it literally means to make a joke/ make fun/ laugh at something! And that's the joy of life... you get to laugh along the journey!

Thank you, Darlinda!

Check Thotyssey’s calendar for Darlinda Just Darlinda’s upcoming gigs, and follow her on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter.

On Point Archives

[secular-jew]

America’s first wartime president in the culture wars.

The mayor of Livermore California explains Trump’s popularity and success. This is perhaps the best explanation for Trump's popularity ....

Marshall Kamena is a registered Democrat and was elected mayor of Livermore, CA.. He ran on the democratic ticket as he knew a Bay Area city would never vote for a Republican. He is as conservative as they come. He wrote the following:

Trump’s 'lack of decorum, dignity, and statesmanship' By Marshall Kamena, Mayor of Livermore, CA.

My Leftist friends (as well as many ardent #NeverTrumpers) constantly ask me if I’m not bothered by Donald Trump’s lack of decorum. They ask if I don’t think his tweets are “beneath the dignity of the office.”

Here’s my answer: We Right-thinking people have tried dignity. There could not have been a man of more quiet dignity than George W. Bush as he suffered the outrageous lies and politically motivated hatreds that undermined his presidency.

We tried statesmanship.

Could there be another human being on this earth who so desperately prized “collegiality” as John McCain?

We tried propriety – has there been a nicer human being ever than Mitt Romney?

And the results were always the same. This is because, while we were playing by the rules of dignity, collegiality and propriety, the Left has been, for the past 60 years, engaged in a knife fight where the only rules are those of Saul Alinsky and the Chicago mob.

I don’t find anything “dignified,” “collegial” or “proper” about Barack Obama’s lying about what went down on the streets of Ferguson in order to ramp up racial hatreds because racial hatreds serve the Democratic Party.

I don’t see anything “dignified” in lying about the deaths of four Americans in Benghazi and imprisoning an innocent filmmaker to cover your tracks.

I don’t see anything “statesman-like” in weaponizing the IRS to be used to destroy your political opponents and any dissent.

Yes, Obama was “articulate” and “polished” but in no way was he in the least bit “dignified,” “collegial” or “proper.”

The Left has been engaged in a war against America since the rise of the Children of the ‘60s. To them, it has been an all-out war where nothing is held sacred and nothing is seen as beyond the pale.. It has been a war they’ve fought with violence, the threat of violence, demagoguery and lies from day one – the violent take-over of the universities – till today.

The problem is that, through these years, the Left has been the only side fighting this war. While the Left has been taking a knife to anyone who stands in their way, the Right has continued to act with dignity, collegiality and propriety.

With Donald Trump, this all has come to an end. Donald Trump is America ’s first wartime president in the Culture War.

During wartime, things like “dignity” and “collegiality” simply aren’t the most essential qualities one looks for in their warriors. Ulysses Grant was a drunk whose behavior in peacetime might well have seen him drummed out of the Army for conduct unbecoming.

Had Abraham Lincoln applied the peacetime rules of propriety and booted Grant, the Democrats might well still be holding their slaves today.

Lincoln rightly recognized that, “I cannot spare this man. He fights.”

General George Patton was a vulgar-talking.. In peacetime, this might have seen him stripped of rank. But, had Franklin Roosevelt applied the normal rules of decorum then, Hitler and the Socialists would barely be five decades into their thousand-year Reich.

Trump is fighting. And what’s particularly delicious is that, like Patton standing over the battlefield as his tanks obliterated Rommel’s, he’s shouting, “You magnificent bastards, I read your book!”

That is just the icing on the cake, but it’s wonderful to see that not only is Trump fighting, he’s defeating the Left using their own tactics. That book is Saul Alinsky’s Rules for Radicals – a book so essential to the Liberals’ war against America that it is and was the playbook for the entire Obama administration and the subject of Hillary Clinton’s senior thesis.

It is a book of such pure evil, that, just as the rest of us would dedicate our book to those we most love or those to whom we are most indebted, Alinsky dedicated his book to Lucifer.

Trump’s tweets may seem rash and unconsidered but, in reality, he is doing exactly what Alinsky suggested his followers do. First, instead of going after “the fake media” — and they are so fake that they have literally gotten every single significant story of the past 60 years not just wrong, but diametrically opposed to the truth, from the Tet Offensive to Benghazi, to what really happened on the streets of Ferguson, Missouri — Trump isolated CNN.. He made it personal.

Then, just as Alinsky suggests, he employs ridicule which Alinsky described as “the most powerful weapon of all.”... Most importantly, Trump’s tweets have put CNN in an untenable and unwinnable position. ... They need to respond.

This leaves them with only two choices. They can either “go high” (as Hillary would disingenuously declare of herself and the fake news would disingenuously report as the truth) and begin to honestly and accurately report the news or they can double-down on their usual tactics and hope to defeat Trump with twice their usual hysteria and demagoguery. The problem for CNN (et al.) with the former is that, if they were to start honestly reporting the news, that would be the end of the Democratic Party they serve. It is nothing but the incessant use of fake news (read: propaganda) that keeps the Left alive.

Imagine, for example, if CNN had honestly and accurately reported then-candidate Barack Obama’s close ties to foreign terrorists (Rashid Khalidi), domestic terrorists (William Ayers & Bernardine Dohrn), the mafia (Tony Rezko) or the true evils of his spiritual mentor, Jeremiah Wright’s church.

Imagine if they had honestly and accurately conveyed the evils of the Obama administration’s weaponizing of the IRS to be used against their political opponents or his running of guns to the Mexican cartels or the truth about the murder of Ambassador Christopher Stevens and the Obama administration’s cover-up.

So, to my friends on the Left — and the #NeverTrumpers as well — do I wish we lived in a time when our president could be “collegial” and “dignified” and “proper”? Of course I do.

These aren’t those times. This is war. And it’s a war that the Left has been fighting without opposition for the past 50 years.

So, say anything you want about this president - I get it - he can be vulgar, he can be crude, he can be undignified at times. I don’t care. I can’t spare this man. He fights for America!

[ohmytheon]

I really enjoy your little "mom life" tidbits and how the baby wrap has become your saving grace. your last fic was brilliant and I can't help but think that Gendry would proudly wear the baby wrap as he goes about his day and now I want a fic about Gendry shopping or at his job while having his baby strapped to his front lol. sorry I keep requesting baby related fics and I hope your little one is well and letting you sleep :D

Thank you! I’m having a lot of fun writing this, so it’s no problem. I am literally wearing my baby right now. lmao Plus, writing Gendry as a dad is both sweet and sad and I love writing him anyways.

It was his one day off, which usually meant lounging around the house with Ryder, but there was too much to be done. Arya had been stuck with mid-terms all week, which wouldn’t have been bad if she wasn’t also knee-deep in her senior thesis research project. In between late night feedings and pulling near all-nighters alongside of it to finish her homework, she wasn’t getting any sleep. She wasn’t going to admit to being exhausted, but the dark bags under her eyes and her sluggish movements around the house told another story.

Being a mom was tiring enough, but combine that with the last semester of college, along with helping her sister plan her wedding, and it was a nightmare. Arya was tired and too stubborn to admit it.

Luckily, Gendry had learned how to be sneaky about helping her back when they were still just friends. After she’d come home from class, they ate dinner, although hers had been interrupted by Ryder wanting to eat. Gendry cleaned up and patiently waited while she feed Ryder until he heard what he’d been waiting for. Arya would also never admit to snoring, but she did so when she was dead tired. When he peered into the living room, there was Arya passed out on the couch, her head tipped back, her arms protectively around their son, while he slept nestled against her on the boppy pillow.

Knowing he only had a few minutes to get everything done, Gendry went into rush mode. First, he put on the baby wrap, which he’d gotten a lot more familiar with since his first attempt. It wasn’t nearly as terrifying now, but the trick was getting him in it at the right time. After carefully picking up Ryder and placing him in his swing, Gendry scooped Arya up from the couch. She mumbled in her sleep against his chest, but when he laid her in bed, she curled up, grasped hold of a pillow, and snuggled under the blanket he laid over her. He shut the bedroom door and returned to pick up Ryder, who was starting to squirm in his swing upon realizing he wasn’t being held. Hastily Gendry slipped his son inside and then walked around the apartment, bouncing up and down on his heels, until Ryder was asleep again.

Gendry breathed a sigh in relief. The ticking time bomb had been defused.

He wrote a quick note to Arya telling them what was going on, grabbed the few things he needed, and slipped out the door quietly. He’d learned after years of being around Arya how to be quiet. Once outside, he went to her car (it was bigger and much better than his) and pulled the stroller out. With Ryder tucked against his chest, he wouldn’t use the stroller, but Gendry needed it for other things. Luckily, everything he needed to do was only a short walk. Some fresh air would do him good since he was either cooped up in a smelly mechanic shop or the apartment.

First he went his work. He knew damn well that he was going to get teased, but it didn’t matter to him. Letting Arya get some well-deserved sleep mattered more than his pride. And besides, it didn’t do much to embarrass him anyways.

“Oh, look guys, it’s dream daddy Gendry!” Tom called from inside.

Gendry rolled his eyes as he parked the stroller outside and waved a dismissive hand at his coworker. “This right here,” he said, pointing to his son, “is proof that I can get laid while you’re still trying to woo girls at karaoke bars.”

Tom scoffed and folded his arms across his chest. “I get plenty of women, thank you.” Despite teasing Gendry, he put on some hand sanitizer and strode over towards them so that he could fondly rub Ryder’s head. Arya had trained all of the men to clean up before touching their son. Even without her here, the threat loomed heavily over all of them. “How’s the pup today?”

“Passed out for now,” Gendry sighed in relief as they walked to the office.

“And the mama she-wolf?”

Gendry smiled at the nickname. “Also passed out.”

“Good,” Tom said decisively. “She deserves it.” Then, he punched Gendry in the arm. “When are you two going to come out? It’s been a while! I know, I know – you’re parents now, but you’re not antisocial or dead. You both need some time to yourselves, not just separately.”

All Gendry could do was shrug his shoulders. “I think she’s scared of leaving him for anything but school, like it’ll make her look like a bad mom or something. Getting her to sleep or eat is a struggle sometimes.”

Tom tsked. “Arya sure is a funny girl.” Then he grinned and slapped Gendry on the back. “Still strange as hell seeing how bloody domestic you two are. It’s positively adorable, isn’t it, Lem?”

“Doesn’t seem too far off,” Lem replied as he stepped out of the office. “Our boy here has always had a soft spot for kids. Remember how he used to give his lunch away to the mom and her little girl at the park?”

“Oh, you were a dad in the making!” Tom teased.

Gendry shoved Tom away before the man could give him a mocking hug and walked into the office, cutting off the other two men’s laughter. Once there, he got his check for the past two weeks and then looked at the schedule. The upper management training marked on his line still made him feel uncomfortable, but it was a good thing. Better pay and hours. He’d worked his ass off for this. Didn’t make it feel any less odd. He was so used to being out on the floor and in the grime all the time. He liked it out there. But they needed this. Ryder needed this. Sacrifices had to be made on all fronts.

Once his business at work was taken care of and he showed Ryder off to everyone, Gendry deposited his check in the bank across the street and walked to the grocery store a little further away. It was nice being so close to everything. They had lucked out when the apartment they lived in now became available, but even more so that her parents had helped them get them on their feet. To be honest, it still humiliated Gendry to think about, but Arya had been so grouchy with him for his apologies.

“We’re here to help, Gendry,” her father had said, “and we know you’ll take good care of our Arya. Accepting help is nothing to be ashamed about. Besides, let us spoil our first grandchild.”

The concept of having a father that wanted to help – that wanted to just be around – was completely lost on Gendry. His mother might’ve died when he was young, but at least she’d stuck around for as long as her body allowed her. His dad was… Well, his dad was dead too, but he’d never bothered to show his face after Gendry was born. Too important and wealthy to admit to getting a cocktail waitress pregnant, he’d paid his mom off to keep silent and waived away all paternity rights. He’d done the same with his half-sister Mya.

Still, sometimes Gendry wondered, if his dad might’ve come around later on. He had been best friends with Arya’s father. Meeting him would’ve happened eventually. Gendry had seen him once, shortly before the man had a heart attack, at some function at Arya’s parents’ house that she’d dragged him to, but the moment Gendry had realized who the man was, he had spent the rest of the party acting like some sort of ninja to evade him. Then he was gone.

But what would have happened had they met? Would his father have pretended not to know him? Would he act apologetic in public and then avoid him? Would he have been curious once Gendry and Arya started dating? Would he have wanted to be involved once he had found out that he was technically going to be a grandfather?

Gendry would never know how either his mom or dad would’ve reacted to becoming grandparents. Being an orphan hadn’t bothered him for a very long time. Only until Arya became pregnant and her family stepped further into their lives did he realize that he was missing something that many people took for granted. It had been…difficult. Harder than he liked to admit. Like there was something else he couldn’t give his son, even though it wasn’t his fault.

Once they were at the store, Gendry used the stroller as a shopping cart. He didn’t care how ridiculous and cheap it looked. A few people gave him strange looks, even judgmental ones, but it didn’t phase him in the slightest. How was he supposed to carry his son and groceries home without anything to carry them in? He was being practical.

Of course, a few women stopped to look at Ryder and coo over him, all with varying reactions concerning Gendry’s role. There was the, “I would never trust my husband alone with my baby, but your wife must be brave!” woman, who laughed like it was so funny. Gendry did not point out that Ryder’s mom was not his wife (…not yet at least – school first – though it weighed heavily on his mind and made him anxious). Then there was the, “They just don’t make men like you these days!” woman, who had three kids of her own and looked frazzled. It made him feel sad. Another woman actually started trying to flirt with him in the cereal aisle, so he grabbed a box at random, awkwardly said goodbye, and hurried away.

People were so weird when it came to talking to parents with kids. Like they had a right to lay their opinion. It mind-boggled Gendry. No one had paid him any attention during this little errands before, but now they flocked to him, like they’d never seen a dad with their kid in public before. Was it that unusual?

By the time they made it back home, Ryder was starting to get fussy, probably hot in the baby wrap and also hungry. The boy could eat. It was also beginning to rain, so it was perfect timing. When they got back into the apartment, it was quiet. He laid Ryder down in the swing, willing him to be quiet for just a little while longer, and slipped out of the baby wrap. Upon walking into the bedroom, he found Arya still asleep, but her body was moving too, as if it could tell that Ryder would be awake soon.

Still, Gendry slipped into the bed behind her and wrapped his arms around her, pressing his nose into her hair and taking a deep breath. He allowed all his muscles to relax as he held her. Slowly, he felt her move underneath him until she’d wiggled in his arms to turn around and face him. “Have a nice nap?”

Arya rubbed her eyes. “How long was I out?”

“A good two hours.”

“Ryder–”

She’d started to sit up, but he held her down and simply said, “Asleep – for now,” and she eased back down in the bed.

Instead of closing her eyes to drift off again, even though he knew that she was still tired, she leaned closer to him and kissed him. He kissed her back, lazily, taking his sweet time, but then she pressed her body up against his. Her kisses became more insistent and she gripped him tightly, pulling him closer to her and rocking her body into his.

Now this was something that they hadn’t been able to do in a while. Half for recovery reasons and the other half because they had no time to themselves. His body reacted immediately, a groan building up in his chest. He rolled over so that he was on top of her and pressed his hips down against her, causing her to let out a gasp. A grin appeared on his face as he kissed down her neck and she hastily moved to undo his pants–

And then a piercing wail from the other room startled them both so badly that they jumped and Gendry nearly fell off the bed.

“Well, that was fun,” he said with a laugh.

Arya sighed and dropped her head back against the pillow. “I’ll–”

“Don’t worry about it,” Gendry told her as he rolled off of her and got up from the bed. “There’s a bottle in the fridge. You rest. I’ve got it.”

“Are you sure?” Arya asked, peering at him warily.

“Let me spoil the mother of my child and spend some time with him,” Gendry told her, leaning over to kiss her on the forehead. “Besides, you’re moody when you’re tired, just like him.”

He just barely dodged the pillow that she threw at him as he hastily made his retreat into the living room to scoop up their son and soothe him. Yeah, domestic life was weird and he hadn’t really given much thought to being a father, but this was exactly where he wanted to be.

[ricky-najjar]

About Me

When I was growing up, it was expected that I would become a doctor. Since I could practically remember my mother and father kept introducing me as “Future Dr. Najjar.” It was a pair of shoes I knew I couldn’t fill in, I wasn’t particularly gifted in biology, nor any sort of math. I was forced to go to tutoring every day when I was in elementary school, they hoped it would knock some sense into me then. By the time I was fourteen, my parents dream of me becoming a doctor became less realistic.  

I grew interested in reading at a young age, I was picking up books well above my age group since I was seven. By the time I was ten, I found myself bored of fiction and started working on biographies, historical non-fiction, even reading encyclopedias to keep myself informed. I was eleven years old when I read my first Abraham Lincoln book. The first of the collection was 800-pages, it was considered to be the “end all” of biographies for this great president. I read that in a month, and the second one in six weeks. It was around then I consider my love for history to have blossomed into a full obsession. Every year for my birthday and Christmas I begged for another book, when I had my fill of Lincoln I went after Jefferson Davis, Ulysees S Grant, Robert E Lee, and the Civil War entirely. I started making connections with them, comparing the author’s thesis as to why this horrible American tragedy occured. For my senior project in high school, I wrote and presented a paper on the continuing effects from the Civil War. Not only did it gain attention in my district, but to the rest of Pennsylvania as it was published in the newspaper the following week. I was given a scholarship to continue my studies in college. While I was ecstatic to major in History at the University of Pennsylvania, I knew my parents were disappointed. 

College was a different experience altogether, I had to say goodbye to my family and friends every semester in order to live on campus. Out of everyone, it was the hardest to say goodbye to Elisabeth Robinson, the friend I’ve had since I could walk. We were two different sides of the same misunderstood coin. Her parents had similar dreams for her but she chose a different path. I was really the only one who understood her, and her anger issues that stemmed from her parents. She would visit me any chance she got, each time it was known that her parent’s anger against her and themselves was wearing down on her. When I was living in my own apartment by my junior year I offered her a chance to stay, and she denied due to her own dreams taking her elsewhere. It was for the best, at that point I was studying for my GREs and getting ready to go to grad school.  

I graduated Magna Cum Laude with my Bachelor’s Degree in History in May of 2008. With that I was given the opportunity to finish my schooling at George Washington University in Washington D.C. It was prestigious, at least in regards to working in the museum industry. A degree from there would open many doors for me. My family threw a large graduation party, only because my cousin Karim had also graduated from Yale - top of his class and in molecular biology. When it was our chance to give our thank you speeches he went first, telling everyone about his plans to become a surgeon and bring our family name up in the world. When it was my turn to give one, I simply thanked my mother and father for pushing me to my absolute limit in getting my degree. I can still see my father sighing and taking a long swing from his drink. 

Leaving the area was the best decision I made in life, I felt like I finally became my own person in Washington D.C. It was a nice change of pace to be surrounded by people who loved history just as much as I did. Those two years of my life went by quickly, and before I knew it, it was time to defend everything I had been working on since I could remember. My thesis was a continuation of everything I had read up on since I was young, it was something I grew to be passionate about and protected at all cost. When I was hit with the questions from everyone in the group, I instantly had an answer as soon as it was asked. My professors were impressed, proud, and everything else that they should be. When I returned the news to my parents, they expressed some sort of happiness - just not to the same extent. 

I came home for a week after I walked across the stage one last time. My mother insisted on throwing another graduation party despite my pleas not to. It wasn’t nearly as big, and most of the people there used it as an excuse to drink without judgement at four in the afternoon. I hid in my room for most of it, reading my own thesis for the hundredth time to myself. Despite what everyone else thought of my degree, this was something I could be proud of for the rest of my life. I was asleep when I heard a faint knock on my door, and without warning Kathleen Robinson entered my room. She expressed how sorry she was that Scott and Elisabeth couldn’t attend, citing that they both were at different parts of the world. I didn’t really care, considering I had lost contact with Lizzie after she hastily made a decision to move to Brazil and do missionary work. I couldn’t tell how drunk Mrs. Robinson was, but she seemed so sure of herself when she started coming on to me. Despite my best efforts to push her away, we ended up together that night. 

I tried to stay in Washington for as long as I could, getting a mediocre job during my first summer out of school. Money became too tight, my loans were starting to collect up, ultimately it forced me to move back home. I was thankful that a former professor pulled some strings to get me a manager’s position at the Museum of the American Revolution back at home. During my time at home Mrs. Robinson continued to show her interest in me by coming over every day to “speak to my mother.” When she went to the kitchen that's when her true intentions started, telling me how handsome I’ve gotten over the years, how she’s missed me, stuff that made my skin crawl at first. The more she came over, the more comfortable I got with her. She ultimately won this sick game she created with me through persuasion, all while her family and my mother and father remained clueless on it. 

I lost any remaining respect I had for myself in those few months. Any time I tried to breakaway she pulled me back in, telling me I would be worthless without her. I started to believe her, even going as far as agreeing with what she was telling me. I am worthless. Hopeless. No one could ever love me like she did. I started lying to my parents as to where I was, and when they questioned I argued that I was an adult and could go wherever I pleased. If Mr.Robinson was away on a business trip, it was almost expected I would come over. That first year back home is almost a blur to me now, one that would continue to haunt me for the rest of my life. 

Elisabeth finally came home, and with nowhere to go she moved back in with her parents. Things got complicated from there. Her mother tried to find different ways to invite me over, later at night, during my lunch, sometimes she would come to my house unannounced and demanded my attention. My cracking point was when Lizzie invited me out to lunch one day and told me that she missed me. She said that the last few years had helped her anger issues in many ways and she was ready to move on. She kissed me then, and unlike her mother it was genuine, sweet, like she actually did love me. That night I informed her mother I was done playing her little game. To my surprise, she was okay with it. My life seemed to go right for a little bit. I was doing better at my job, Lizzie and I were in love, and more importantly we were officially getting our own place together. Her mother never said a word to me, even when I was over at her house to see her daughter. It was like something about us moving forward startled her, and after a year and a half of us being together - she broke the news while I was helping her pack. She didn’t believe her at first, but when I didn’t deny my actions she grew disgusted and kicked me out. Our little bit of happiness was cut short. 

I couldn’t stay in Philadelphia any longer. I had to move back to the place that had given me the closest thing I had to peace in my life. I was given a chance to come back when Ford’s Theater called me in for an interview, practically giving me that job the second I walked in. With my life in full swing once again, I took what little pride I had left and ran away from home. 

[elsewhereuniversity]

So, I love how everyone is getting all into the eldritch horror visibly fae knowingly magical encounters. The descriptions are SO COOL. 

But I’ve been thinking about how our understandings of the Fair Folk originated not with people who had these super obvious encounters with this visible magic figure. Instead, they come from people attuned to the ways in which this world as it is, is magical and frightening and overwhelming, and decided that eldritch monsters were the most logical and comforting explanation. So, I’ve been thinking a lot about how so many interactions with the fair folx could happen without the student knowing it….how many of these interactions and deals may have happened already. A few true stories: My roommate joined ROTC her freshman year. Four years of university for free, for five years of military service. Don’t tell me that there is just flesh and bone under the glamour of a military uniform, under the medals worn by those who watched her sign her contract. The Fair Folk have always loved games, and to gamble your life in the future of uncertain war is certainly worth $60,000 tuition per year for four years, plus a monthly stipend.  I have a friend whose financial aid is paid by a grant from some folks from New York City. In exchange, once a year she dresses up, takes out her piercings, and goes to dinner with them.

Sit with us, tell us the stories of your studies, sing for us. Oh, you don’t sing anymore? But you sing so lovely. Sing.

At these dinners, she does not let her smile drop.  I worked with a senior who would be Successful. They did everything, could not say no, every opportunity bigger than the last and they could Do It All. Directing a musical with a full orchestra in the biggest theater, performing across town themself in a different show each weekend for months on end, five classes and a thesis. One night, drunk and at 2am, a time were the glamour drops and world blurs into honesty, they said “I am so fucking lonely.” That is a powerful trade: love as fair as can be, a beating heart, community. But they wanted to be able To Do It All and they did.  A few years ago, the school was raising money for the endowment (the school is always raising money for the endowment). They were holding a fundraising dinner, with Big Important People who must be Inspired by Students Like You in order to donate. They gathered together the most talented performers of the whole university. Dancers whose bodies defied physics, pianists who seemed to play with extra hands, singer whose voices rang inhuman. Maybe there is a reason we already had those skills, it’s hard to know. We’ve all made so many sacrifices already to end up at a school where we can get not a single credit for our talents. Maybe something is already taking its due. Still. They gathered us, and planted us through the field to mime silent excitement as the Big Important People entered the tent in a procession. They had us perform for them – but never in the way we do best. Bottle up your talent, make it look like this. Dressed us all head to toe in white. Gave clear instructions.

Hand them this book. Collect these cards. They will write a wish. If they speak to you, just smile. Do not speak back.

They had us wait behind the kitchen.

Whatever you do, do not eat the food.

The university knows how to make a deal. They know what a little Talent and a little Dignity is worth. And we already owe them so much…why not this too?  In the morning I went back to where the tent had been, only to find an empty football field.  —— I feel like I have to add that the last story is literally 100% true. The others I have taken small creative liberties with (mostly the ‘lonely’ one cause I don’t want that person to be identifiable). But this one is hundo percent reality. Nothing I could add about it would make it sound less weird. They set up this crazy huge tent for it and thousands of dollars of lights and projection equipment, and the next morning had taken down the entire thing. They had this whole projection thing that took up a side of the stadium with a video about how great the university is, except I’d never even HEARD OF most of the professors or programs they interviewed or discussed in it (like its a big uni but still). Went to go look them up the next day, but couldn’t remember the names. They had us count a specific number of steps from one section to another. They had us do a weird running pattern on the stadium stairs that was supposed to look cool but I think just opened a portal in to my own personal hell. I still have the white sneakers and sweatshirt they gave us but I legit have not worn them since that night; I’m slightly scared to wear them but somehow can’t throw them out. When the donors walked in to the tent, we literally just stood around the field jumping up and down with excitement (silently) and waving flags (silently) and for the first time I understood Artaudian horror. They had cards at their table that they were supposed to write these messages on, and then we would collect them in these books, and honestly the whole night is pretty hazy but it was weird. The whole thing was directed by Tony Award winner Diane Paulus (I swear to you this is true). Guys I’m low key pretty sure I’ve been to a revel and let me tell you, you are not a participant. You are there, but at best you are quaint entertainment, to be hidden in the corner when you’re not amusing them. You will do what they ask you (tell you). And there will be a part of you sitting on your shoulder saying, are you really doing that? And the answer will be yes, and it won’t be until after you leave that the wave will crash over you, nearly drowning you in the question, as you sputter awake asking, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK JUST HAPPENED? 

[x]

[scienceblogtumbler]

Students’ shoebox-sized satellite gets green light for launch

Most graduating seniors expect to write a final thesis, or perhaps co-author a paper or present a poster or talk at an academic conference.

By the time Paul Köttering graduates from the University of California, Berkeley, in 2021, he and his team hope to have launched a satellite.

Despite the shelter-in-place mandate during the coronavirus epidemic — Köttering is spending the remainder of the semester at his parents’ home in London — he and a team of UC Berkeley undergraduates are huddling weekly via Zoom in preparation for the launch next year of a shoebox-sized experiment to test new satellite navigation technology that is based on campus research.

This past February, the National Aeronautics and Space Administration announced that it would cover the costs of the launch — up to $300,000 — through the CubeSat Launch Initiative, which focuses on flying small experiments as auxiliary rocket payloads.

To actually build the satellite, the UC Berkeley team is raising about $15,000 dollars through crowdfunding and the campus’s Big Give campaign, and seeking donations of equipment from numerous manufacturers. They’ve already received a $4,950 grant from the UC Berkeley Student Technology Fund.

“The NASA grant is just for the launch, so we have still got to supply and manufacture the satellite ourselves,” said Kӧttering, a junior majoring in applied mathematics and physics. “Luckily, the cost of CubeSats has dropped significantly over the past three to four years. The communications systems, power systems, control systems — a lot of those are just off-the-shelf, commercial parts, so they are quite cheap. The payload itself is the more expensive item, but again, a lot of that comes from in-kind donations from companies.”

Junior Paul Kӧttering, sheltering-in-place in London. (Photo courtesy of Paul Kӧttering)

Called QubeSat, or quantum CubeSat, the group’s satellite will test a new type of gyroscope based on quantum mechanical interactions in imperfect diamonds. The diamond gyroscope was invented in the UC Berkeley laboratory of physicist Dmitry Budker, a Professor of the Graduate School who is now also at the Helmholtz Institute at Johannes Gutenberg University in Mainz, Germany.

The student team is part of an undergraduate aerospace club called Space Technologies at Cal (STAC) that has already flown experiments aboard balloons and the International Space Station — an impressive record for a group that started only four years ago. Some of the group’s graduates have gone on to work for SpaceX, Boeing and other aerospace companies.

Boasting about 65 members from a range of majors, including physics, math, engineering, chemistry and environmental sciences, they’re currently working on four projects they hope will push innovative new space technologies.

“UC Berkeley doesn’t have an aerospace program, and it is great that there are students that are that motivated,” said David Sundkvist, a researcher at UC Berkeley’s Space Sciences Laboratory (SSL) who is one of the group’s mentors. “Their project definitely was a winner because it is interesting, and it also has synergy with the whole campus in that it comes from Berkeley research. I think that made it possible for them to win this slot on the launch manifest, definitely.”

The QubeSat team plans to use some of the unique facilities available at SSL, including the vacuum chambers needed to test the spaceworthiness of the satellite.

The CURIE mission consists of two CubeSats separated by a few kilometers and equipped with large antennas to measure radio emissions from coronal mass ejections. Using interferometry, UC Berkeley space scientist David Sundkvist hopes to pinpoint where the emissions come from. (Graphic courtesy of David Sundkvist)

Sundkvist is leading his own CubeSat project, the CubeSat Radio Interferometry Experiment (CURIE), which also received good news in February: It, too, is guaranteed a launch slot in the next few years, with similar funding from NASA. The CURIE — with a budget of $3.2 million, in addition to the launch subsidy — involves two identical satellites that will try for the first time to do radio interferometry in space. Interferometry, which integrates data from two separate radio antennas — for CURIE, the satellite receivers will be a couple of kilometers apart in Earth’s orbit — should more precisely pinpoint and track radio emissions from huge solar eruptions, called coronal mass ejections, that hurtle toward Earth and can disrupt communications satellites or even endanger astronauts in space.

Diamonds are for navigation

Kӧttering got involved in the CubeSat project after hearing about the great experiences of other STAC members, including sophomore Vidish Gupta, who, as a freshman, worked alongside seniors to design an experiment that flew a year ago on the Blue Origin rocket to the edge of space and back. During the trip, the automated experiment recorded roundworms — C. elegans, commonly found in biology labs — as they revived under little to no gravity, or microgravity. The team is still analyzing those results.

The QubeSat team meets weekly via Zoom to discuss the satellite design and prepare to begin building it for a 2021 launch. Left to right, starting at the top row, are Justin Chen, Vidish Gupta, Edmund Chen, Drake Lin, Max Burns, Paul Köttering, Yuki Ito, Saisaran Kidambi, Bianca Monique Luansing, Bhavesh Kalisetti, Megan Yu, Joon Park and Sally Peng. Team member Krishnakumar Bhattaram is not pictured. (Image courtesy of Vidish Gupta)

Before applying for the NASA funds, that 15-member CubeSat team explored various possible experiments — it was looking for something small, cheap, but innovative — before settling a year ago on its final proposal: to test a quantum gyroscope.

“The small-satellite community is becoming very, very large and keeps CubeSats very popular,” said Gupta, the project lead who is majoring in electrical engineering and computer sciences and will be building electronics for QubeSat. “We saw there were a couple of different technologies that are still kind of holding this back, and one of the big ones was a gyroscope technology for controlling the satellite, since you need to know where you are and the direction you’re going.”

To make the sensors, synthetic diamonds are blasted with nitrogen, some of which kick out carbon atoms and take their places, creating nitrogen-vacancy (NV) centers that have weird properties. One of these properties, studied by Budker’s group for more than 10 years, is that the NV centers’ atomic spins are very sensitive to magnetic fields. Magnetometers based on NV diamonds have already been launched to measure small changes in Earth’s magnetic field.

The NV-diamond, a quantum gyroscope, will sit in the middle of the magnetic coils, which will be encased in a box that blocks outside magnetic fields, which would interfere with the measurements. (Diagram by STAC team)

The QubeSat team plans to employ another quantum characteristic of NV centers: The spins of the nitrogen atoms precess or wobble in a magnetic field, like the wobble of a spinning top, and the frequency of that precession changes with the atoms’ orientation. The team’s experiment will incorporate a tiny, solid-state laser to excite the NV centers, a radio frequency generator to ping the atoms and a photodiode to detect the light they emit. The intensity of the emitted light provides a measure of the 3D orientation of the spacecraft.

“In comparison to more traditional onboard micromechanical gyroscopes, quantum gyroscopes provide improved resolution, improved drift stability and increased temperature operational range,” Kӧttering said. “QubeSat’s upcoming mission will allow us to evaluate the effect of the harsh space environment — including extreme temperatures, radiation and magnetic field variation — that could affect the gyroscopes’ performance in small-scale spaceflight.”

One of Budker’s former postdoctoral fellows, Andrey Jarmola, who is advising the QubeSat team, points out that the team’s attempt to demonstrate the diamond gyroscope in a satellite is ambitious. He and his colleagues are only now showing that the diamond gyroscope — what he called a nuclear magnetic resonance gyroscope — works in the lab.

But the stability and sensitivity of diamond gyroscopes promise to be better than those of the standard MEMS (microelectromechanical systems) gyroscopes in our cellphones, automobile airbag sensors and image stabilizers in cameras. And unlike other sensitive gyroscopes, diamond gyroscopes can be miniaturized and use less power.

“The number of applications of gyroscopes is just enormous. They are used in all mobile devices and for navigation for both the military and industry. It is a huge market,” Jarmola said, noting that he has invited some of the team members to work on the project in the lab in UC Berkeley’s physics department. “The students are very enthusiastic, and I really like consulting them and the idea of working with them in the future.”

Enthusiasm, dedication and ambition are hallmarks of the QubeSat team and the other STAC teams, which are working on high altitude balloon, microgravity and artificial intelligence lunar rover experiments.

Sophomore Vidish Gupta working on the design for QubeSat’s main flight computer at his home in Los Angeles. (Photo courtesy of Vidish Gupta)

“The reason why STAC exists is because there is no aerospace department on campus,” said Kӧttering, who is among many students and faculty lobbying UC Berkeley to create such a department. “There is no major or minor, so we try and act as a community in a place where all the students interested in aerospace can come, get involved, actually get hands on project experience, get their project hopefully flown or launched and also really develop those skills.”

And this group on campus is passionate about making space accessible to all — it’s the goal of the growing NewSpace movement — including future undergraduates in fields such as science, technology, math and engineering (STEM).

“QubeSat’s secondary goal is to increase the accessibility of space and to inspire STEM education. The QubeSat team and the larger STAC community hope to introduce high school and college students to our work though community outreach in the East Bay, giving them the support and inspiration to pursue microsatellite projects and careers in the burgeoning NewSpace era,” Kӧttering said.

source https://scienceblog.com/515945/students-shoebox-sized-satellite-gets-green-light-for-launch/

[the-daily-tizzy]

The mayor of Livermore California explains Trump’s popularity and success.

This is perhaps the best explanation for Trump's popularity Published on June 16, 2018

Julian McCallFollow

Marshall Kamena is a registered Democrat and was elected mayor of Livermore, CA.. He ran on the democratic ticket as he knew a Bay Area city would never vote for a Republican. He is as conservative as they come. He wrote the following from an article, originally written by Evan Sayet and his opinion he expressed as a columnists for Townhall.com were his own and did not represent the views of Townhall.com, were mistakenly attributed to Marshall Kamena by me.

Trump’s 'lack of decorum, dignity, and statesmanship' 

By Evan Sayet in his article "He Fights My Leftist friends (as well as many ardent #NeverTrumpers) constantly ask me if I’m not bothered by Donald Trump’s lack of decorum. They ask if I don’t think his tweets are “beneath the dignity of the office.” Here’s my answer: We Right-thinking people have tried dignity. There could not have been a man of more quiet dignity than George W. Bush as he suffered the outrageous lies and politically motivated hatreds that undermined his presidency. We tried statesmanship. Could there be another human being on this earth who so desperately prized “collegiality” as John McCain? We tried propriety – has there been a nicer human being ever than Mitt Romney? And the results were always the same. This is because, while we were playing by the rules of dignity, collegiality and propriety, the Left has been, for the past 60 years, engaged in a knife fight where the only rules are those of Saul Alinsky and the Chicago mob. I don’t find anything “dignified,” “collegial” or “proper” about Barack Obama’s lying about what went down on the streets of Ferguson in order to ramp up racial hatreds because racial hatreds serve the Democratic Party. I don’t see anything “dignified” in lying about the deaths of four Americans in Benghazi and imprisoning an innocent filmmaker to cover your tracks. I don’t see anything “statesman-like” in weaponizing the IRS to be used to destroy your political opponents and any dissent. Yes, Obama was “articulate” and “polished” but in no way was he in the least bit “dignified,” “collegial” or “proper.” The Left has been engaged in a war against America since the rise of the Children of the ‘60's. To them, it has been an all-out war where nothing is held sacred and nothing is seen as beyond the pale.. It has been a war they’ve fought with violence, the threat of violence, demagoguery and lies from day one – the violent take-over of the universities – till today. The problem is that, through these years, the Left has been the only side fighting this war. While the Left has been taking a knife to anyone who stands in their way, the Right has continued to act with dignity, collegiality and propriety. With Donald Trump, this all has come to an end. Donald Trump is America ’s first wartime president in the Culture War. During wartime, things like “dignity” and “collegiality” simply aren’t the most essential qualities one looks for in their warriors. Ulysses Grant was a drunk whose behavior in peacetime might well have seen him drummed out of the Army for conduct unbecoming. Had Abraham Lincoln applied the peacetime rules of propriety and booted Grant, the Democrats might well still be holding their slaves today. Lincoln rightly recognized that, “I cannot spare this man. He fights.” General George Patton was a vulgar-talking.. In peacetime, this might have seen him stripped of rank. But, had Franklin Roosevelt applied the normal rules of decorum then, Hitler and the Socialists would barely be five decades into their thousand-year Reich. Trump is fighting. And what’s particularly delicious is that, like Patton standing over the battlefield as his tanks obliterated Rommel’s, he’s shouting, “You magnificent bastards, I read your book!” That is just the icing on the cake, but it’s wonderful to see that not only is Trump fighting, he’s defeating the Left using their own tactics. That book is Saul Alinsky’s Rules for Radicals – a book so essential to the Liberals’ war against America that it is and was the playbook for the entire Obama administration and the subject of Hillary Clinton’s senior thesis. It is a book of such pure evil, that, just as the rest of us would dedicate our book to those we most love or those to whom we are most indebted, Alinsky dedicated his book to Lucifer. Trump’s tweets may seem rash and unconsidered but, in reality, he is doing exactly what Alinsky suggested his followers do. First, instead of going after “the fake media” — and they are so fake that they have literally gotten every single significant story of the past 60 years not just wrong, but diametrically opposed to the truth, from the Tet Offensive to Benghazi, to what really happened on the streets of Ferguson, Missouri — Trump isolated CNN.. He made it personal. Then, just as Alinsky suggests, he employs ridicule which Alinsky described as “the most powerful weapon of all.”... Most importantly, Trump’s tweets have put CNN in an untenable and unwinnable position. ... They need to respond. This leaves them with only two choices. They can either “go high” (as Hillary would disingenuously declare of herself and the fake news would disingenuously report as the truth) and begin to honestly and accurately report the news or they can double-down on their usual tactics and hope to defeat Trump with twice their usual hysteria and demagoguery. The problem for CNN (et al.) with the former is that, if they were to start honestly reporting the news, that would be the end of the Democratic Party they serve. It is nothing but the incessant use of fake news (read: propaganda) that keeps the Left alive. Imagine, for example, if CNN had honestly and accurately reported then-candidate Barack Obama’s close ties to foreign terrorists (Rashid Khalidi), domestic terrorists (William Ayers & Bernardine Dohrn), the mafia (Tony Rezko) or the true evils of his spiritual mentor, Jeremiah Wright’s church. Imagine if they had honestly and accurately conveyed the evils of the Obama administration’s weaponizing of the IRS to be used against their political opponents or his running of guns to the Mexican cartels or the truth about the murder of Ambassador Christopher Stevens and the Obama administration’s cover-up. So, to my friends on the Left — and the #NeverTrumpers as well — do I wish we lived in a time when our president could be “collegial” and “dignified” and “proper”? Of course I do. These aren’t those times. This is war. And it’s a war that the Left has been fighting without opposition for the past 50 years. So, say anything you want about this president - I get it - he can be vulgar, he can be crude, he can be undignified at times. I don’t care. I can’t spare this man. He fights for America!

[ffretired26]

Fight the good or dirty fight Trump. The left has been playing dirty for sixty years.

INTERESTING THEORY ABOUT DONALD TRUMP’S SUCCESS.

By the Democratic Mayor of Livermore, California.

The mayor of Livermore, California explains Trump’s popularity and success. This is perhaps the best explanation for Trump's popularity. Marshall Kamena is a registered Democrat and was elected mayor of Livermore, CA. He ran on the democratic ticket as he knew a Bay Area city would never vote for a Republican. He is as conservative as they come.

He wrote the following:

Trump’s 'lack of decorum, dignity, and statesmanship' By Marshall Kamena, Mayor of Livermore, CA. My Leftist friends (as well as many ardent #NeverTrumpers) constantly ask me if I’m not bothered by Donald Trump’s lack of decorum. They ask if I don’t think his tweets are “beneath the dignity of the office.”

Here’s my answer: We Right-thinking people have tried dignity. There could not have been a man of more quiet dignity than George W. Bush as he suffered the outrageous lies and politically motivated hatreds that undermined his presidency. We tried statesmanship. Could there be another human being on this earth who so desperately prized “collegiality” as John McCain? We tried propriety – has there been a nicer human being ever than Mitt Romney? And the results were always the same. This is because, while we were playing by the rules of dignity, collegiality and propriety, the Left has been, for the past 60 years, engaged in a knife fight where the only rules are those of Saul Alinsky and the Chicago mob.

I don’t find anything “dignified,” “collegial” or “proper” about Barack Obama’s lying about what went down on the streets of Ferguson in order to ramp up racial hatreds because racial hatreds serve the Democratic Party. I don’t see anything “dignified” in lying about the deaths of four Americans in Benghazi and imprisoning an innocent filmmaker to cover your tracks. I don’t see anything “statesman-like” in weaponizing the IRS to be used to destroy your political opponents and any dissent. Yes, Obama was “articulate” and “polished” but in no way was he in the least bit “dignified,” “collegial” or “proper.”

The Left has been engaged in a war against America since the rise of the Children of the ‘60s. To them, it has been an all-out war where nothing is held sacred and nothing is seen as beyond the pale.. It has been a war they’ve fought with violence, the threat of violence, demagoguery and lies from day one – the violent take-over of the universities – till today. The problem is that, through these years, the Left has been the only side fighting this war. While the Left has been taking a knife to anyone who stands in their way, the Right has continued to act with dignity, collegiality and propriety.

With Donald Trump, this all has come to an end. Donald Trump is America ’s first wartime president in the Culture War. During wartime, things like “dignity” and “collegiality” simply aren’t the most essential qualities one looks for in their warriors. Ulysses Grant was a drunk whose behavior in peacetime might well have seen him drummed out of the Army for conduct unbecoming. Had Abraham Lincoln applied the peacetime rules of propriety and booted Grant, the Democrats might well still be holding their slaves today. Lincoln rightly recognized that, “I cannot spare this man. He fights.” General George Patton was vulgar-talking. In peacetime, this might have seen him stripped of rank. But, had Franklin Roosevelt applied the normal rules of decorum then, Hitler and the Socialists would barely be five decades into their thousand-year Reich.

Trump is fighting. And what’s particularly delicious is that, like Patton standing over the battlefield as his tanks obliterated Rommel’s, he’s shouting, “You magnificent bastards, I read your book!” That is just the icing on the cake, but it’s wonderful to see that not only is Trump fighting, he’s defeating the Left using their own tactics. That book is Saul Alinsky’s Rules for Radicals – a book so essential to the Liberals’ war against America that it is and was the playbook for the entire Obama administration and the subject of Hillary Clinton’s senior thesis. It is a book of such pure evil, that, just as the rest of us would dedicate our book to those we most love or those to whom we are most indebted, Alinsky dedicated his book to Lucifer.

Trump’s tweets may seem rash and unconsidered but, in reality, he is doing exactly what Alinsky suggested his followers do. First, instead of going after “the fake media” — and they are so fake that they have literally gotten every single significant story of the past 60 years not just wrong, but diametrically opposed to the truth, from the Tet Offensive to Benghazi, to what really happened on the streets of Ferguson, Missouri —

Trump isolated CNN. He made it personal. Then, just as Alinsky suggests, he employs ridicule which Alinsky described as “the most powerful weapon of all.”... Most importantly, Trump’s tweets have put CNN in an untenable and unwinnable position ... They need to respond. This leaves them with only two choices. They can either “go high” (as Hillary would disingenuously declare of herself and the fake news would disingenuously report as the truth) and begin to honestly and accurately report the news or they can double-down on their usual tactics and hope to defeat Trump with twice their usual hysteria and demagoguery.

The problem for CNN (et al.) with the former is that, if they were to start honestly reporting the news, that would be the end of the Democratic Party they serve. It is nothing but the incessant use of fake news (read: propaganda) that keeps the Left alive. Imagine, for example, if CNN had honestly and accurately reported then-candidate Barack Obama’s close ties to foreign terrorists (Rashid Khalidi), domestic terrorists (William Ayers & Bernardine Dohrn), the mafia (Tony Rezko) or the true evils of his spiritual mentor, Jeremiah Wright’s church. Imagine if they had honestly and accurately conveyed the evils of the Obama administration’s weaponizing of the IRS to be used against their political opponents or his running of guns to the Mexican cartels or the truth about the murder of Ambassador Christopher Stevens and the Obama administration’s cover-up.

So, to my friends on the Left — and the #NeverTrumpers as well — do I wish we lived in a time when our president could be “collegial” and “dignified” and “proper”? Of course I do. These aren’t those times. This is war. And it’s a war that the Left has been fighting without opposition for the past 50 years. So, say anything you want about this president - I get it - he can be vulgar, he can be crude, he can be undignified at times. I don’t care. I can’t spare this man. He fights for America!

Please pass this on, over and over, and again and again..