#the problem of Wealth and Comparative Misery

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Ticketmaster jacks us for billions so it can pocket millions

NEXT WEEKEND (June 7–9), I'm in AMHERST, NEW YORK to keynote the 25th Annual Media Ecology Association Convention and accept the Neil Postman Award for Career Achievement in Public Intellectual Activity.

Corruption is a system of concentrated gains and diffused costs: cheaters make a lot of money, and their victims each lose a little. The cheater has a much larger pool of money to spend on keeping the scam going, and the victims need to pay again to fight the cheater.

Actually, it's worse. The victim pays once when they are cheated, then, they pay a second time (in time and/or money) when they fight back against the cheater.

But in order to fight back effectively, the victims need to band together – it doesn't make sense for one victim to pony up to counter the cheater, because the cheater stole from a lot of people and can therefore spend far more than the victim lost and still come out ahead.

This is the third time the victim pays: they pay the "collective action" tax of locating other victims, agreeing to a common strategy for fighting back, and then coordinating with all those co-victims to keep the campaign up.

But actually, it's even worse. Because most corruption isn't just dishonest, it's incredibly wasteful. Corruption involves stealing ten dollars from you to make a dime for the cheater. The polluter who gives you cancer rather than cleaning up their industrial process costs you millions in medical bills – and maybe costs your family the lifelong trauma and expense of living with your death. They pocket an infinitesimal fraction of those costs. The rest is just wasted. They're setting your house on fire to spare themselves the cost of a match to light their cigar.

This is yet another way in which the deck is stacked in favor of corruption. A victim of corruption is placed in a condition of precarity and misery from which is it difficult to marshal a counteroffensive. The cheater, meanwhile, is made stronger and more comfortable by their corrupt activities. Immiserated victims must undertake the hard, ongoing work of acting together to be effective against the cheater. The cheater answers only to themself, avoiding the collective action costs that the victims pay every time they seek to act.

All of this is why we have governments. A government is (said to be) a democratically accountable way to meet the concentrated power of the corrupt with the concentrated power of the victims of corruption. Governments are many things, but they are especially a way of solving the collective action problem of enforcing the rules against cheaters. This is partially in service to justice – no one likes to be cheated, and a society of rampant and routine cheating is unstable and prone to collapse.

But it's also a matter of efficiency. While it makes a certain kind of selfish sense for the cheater to liquidate our dollar to make their penny, from a societal perspective, it's a catastrophe. Letting Wall Street slumlords corner regional markets in single family dwellings makes large amounts of money for their investors, but it costs those cities unimaginable amounts in public services as their housing stock decays, homelessness spikes, and schools and public services crumble for want of local taxes.

The paltry sums that Flint's creditors extracted by insisting on switching to a chlorinated water-supply that leeched lead out of the city's water infrastructure are crumbs compared to the vast, lifelong costs of giving an all the children in a city lead poisoning, to say nothing of the costs to the city as a city nor forever tainted by this unspeakably evil crime.

This is why inequality – and its handmaiden, monopoly – is so dangerous. The more concentrated private wealth becomes, the harder it is for the state to police, and the more likely it is that this private wealth will corrupt our officials. We see this all around us – for example, when Supreme Court justices receive lavish gifts from billionaires whom they later rule in favor of:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/06/clarence-thomas/#harlan-crow

Through the neoliberal era – the past forty years of billionaire-friendly Reaganomics – we've seen increasing concentration in wealth, coupled to increasing collusion between the wealthy and the government to protect the corrupt against the public. Think of the IRS's long decay, in which it turned a blind eye to increasingly blatant tax evasion by the ultra-wealthy, while training its fire on working people who fudge a few bucks on their returns:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/13/taxes-are-for-the-little-people/#leona-helmsley-2022

Likewise, think of the governmental obsession with "welfare cheats," no matter what the cost to families who are kicked off food stamps and Medicaid:

https://armandalegshow.com/episode/medicaid-enrollment/

All this in the midst of a corporate crime-wave that is not only unpunished, it's utterly unremarked-upon:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/12/07/solar-panel-for-a-sex-machine/#a-single-proposition

This emphasis on benefits cheating and indifference to corporate crime really highlights the drag that corruption places on a society's efficiency. Even if you believe that there's a lot of welfare fraud (there isn't!), the dollar in "undeserved" food stamps spent by a cheater costs society…a dollar. Meanwhile the dollar that a corporate criminal makes by skimping on workplace safety costs society thousands of dollars to care for the worker who is then maimed on the job.

This is very easy to see in the world of corporate environmental crime. The "social cost of carbon" measures the total cost of pollution: the injuries caused by marinating in fossil fuel extraction, processing and combustion byproducts; as well as the loss of life and property from climate events. These costs are blistering, so high that every MWh of renewable power we bring online saves us $100 in social carbon costs:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/30/posiwid/#social-cost-of-carbon

Governments that sleep on corporate crime are objectively governing badly. That's why the antitrust failures of every US presidential administration from Carter to Trump are so damning: they set the stage for later corruption that would not only be carried out on a larger scale than smaller firms could accomplish, but also for those large firms to corrupt the political process.

This is the Ticketmaster story. The superpredator that is today's Ticketmaster is the end-point of a series of ever-more corrupt mergers, waved through by every-more pliable presidential administrations. It was bad enough when Bush I allowed Ticketmaster to gobble up Ticketron in 1990. After all, the company had already proven itself to be a cesspit of corrupt, bullying activity.

The Ticketron acquisition kicked off a two-decade-long corporate crime-spree that produced a mountain of evidence proving Ticketmaster's nature as an inherently corrupt enterprise that acquired power for the purpose of abusing that power, at the expense of creative workers, the public, and the owners of venues:

https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/pearl-jam-taking-on-ticketmaster-67440/

Despite this, the Obama administration waved through an acquisition that was obviously far more dangerous that the Ticketron caper: the 2010 merger between Ticketmaster and the concert promoter Live Nation:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Live_Nation_Entertainment#History

After a decade and a half of vertical monopoly power – Ticketmaster/Live Nation controlling ticketing, promotion and venues – the company has grown from a dangerous octopus with its tentacles twined around the industry into a kraken that is strangling every kind of live event and everyone who earns a living from them. This has produced an ever-more obvious string of scandals, most notably the company's assault on Swifties:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/20/anything-that-cant-go-on-forever-will-eventually-stop/

A combination of mounting public outrage (with Swifties at the vanguard) and the Biden administration's generational enthusiasm for smashing corporate power has led, at last, to a reckoning with the Ticketmaster kraken:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/30/nix-fix-the-tix/#something-must-be-done-there-we-did-something

Ticketmaster is a famously opaque organization. When Rebecca Giblin and I were working on Chokepoint Capitalism, our book on monopoly and creative labor markets, we were able to speak on the record to insiders from every part of the industry, except live performance:

https://chokepointcapitalism.com/

As soon as we raised Ticketmaster/Live Nation with club owners and other events industry insiders, they'd go pale and quiet and tell us that they didn't feel comfortable staying on the record. TM/LN has a well-deserved mafia-style reputation for savage retaliation against snitches.

With the DOJ Antitrust Division chasing Ticketmaster through the courts, we're starting to get a rare, on-the-record glimpse of TM/LN's operations, as its internal documents find their pay into court records. In response Ticketmaster's spokesliars have embarked on an epic spin campaign, to "contextualize" these damning numbers and paint the company as a weak, low-margin business that has been unfairly set-upon by the bullies at the DOJ.

In his BIG newsletter, Matt Stoller offers a spectacular, must-read breakdown of these documents and the ensuing spin:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/is-ticketmaster-telling-the-truth

Stoller starts with Ticketmaster's insistence that it is barely profitable. Though this is true on paper, the numbers just don't add up. For one thing, anyone who's bought a ticket can see, printed on its face, TM's junk fees: "a 'service fee' without any obvious service [and] a 'convenience fee' that is anything but convenient."

Far more damning is a comparison between the price of a Ticketmaster ticket in the US vs the EU. The EU has legally mandated competitive ticketing, and the tickets there are far cheaper. A US ticket to see Taylor Swift will run you $2,600 – the same ticket costs $340 in the EU. As Stoller writes:

An American could fly to Paris, spend a few nights at a nice hotel, see a Taylor Swift concert, and fly back, for less than it costs to see that same show in the U.S.

How to make sense of this contradiction? How can Ticketmaster show such a low profit margin on its books but somehow end up costing event-goers such an absurd premium?

Start with the fact that Ticketmaster has three businesses, not just one. They sell tickets, but they also promote concerts (that is, front the money for personnel, travel and marketing), and they also own a bunch of the largest and most profitable venues in the country.

This allows them to play a shell-game that's very similar to (and possibly not actually different from) money-laundering, where money is shuffled between entities in order to shield it from creditors, suppliers or tax agents:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/explosive-new-documents-unearthed

But this presents a problem for Ticketmaster. They're a publicly traded company and their investors demand high returns. And unlike performers or venue owners, investors have power over Ticketmaster management. Keeping "margin per ticket" number as low as possible lets Ticketmaster minimize the revenue it has to share with the people who actually do the work and invest the capital in live performances. But for investors, they need to show another number, one that's as high as possible, to keep the investors happy.

That number is "Adjusted Operating Income" or AOI. While gross margins are the difference between the face value of a ticket and the sum remitted to the venue and the performer, AOI factors in all the other revenue TM/LN books from that ticket, like kickbacks. TM/LN's AOI is very healthy: it's 37% on tickets and 61% on promotions.

Those sums delight TM/LN's investors, and they express their joy through lavish executive compensation packages. CEO Michael Rapino is America's fifth-highest paid CEO, at $139m/year (that's eight times the Fortune 500 average). His sidekick Joe Berchtold is America's highest paid CFO, at $54m. The total AOI for TM/LN is $732m/year – and 19% of that is being paid to two of its execs.

But LN/TM has a third line of business: operating venues. The AOI for these venues is just 1.7%. If this were a normal, cutthroat business, you'd expect those same return-focused investors to insist on their handsomely compensated execs selling off that low-margin turkey. But nevertheless, TM/LN keeps those venues on its books.

When those execs talk to the public, they use the poor profit margins of ticketing and the poor AOI on venues to plead poverty: "how can we be a monopoly when we're barely scraping by?"

But when they talk to the investors who decide whether to pay them 800% of the S&P500 average, they are more forthcoming.

Keeping the margins low on tickets – and making up the money with kickbacks and other corrupt payments – means that potential rival ticketing firms can't afford to get into the business. Without the venue and promotion business, those rivals wouldn't be able to command kickbacks. They'd have to subsist on the rock-bottom margins that are competitive with Ticketmaster.

Likewise those venues: ownership of key venues lets Ticketmaster/Live Nation force out credible rivals in important markets, and keep new ones from emerging, because again, they'd have to make a living on that paltry 1.7% AOI (or the even lower profit margins!).

As Joe Berchtold, the highest-paid CFO in America, told an analyst:

I don't think Concerts AOI per fan is a logical way to look at it. I think if you look at how we've talked about our business, we've talked about our business across the multiple pieces. So you have to look at it, what's the concerts plus sponsorship plus ticketing AOI per fan.

Berchtold is paid roughly $26,000/hour. Those words take roughly 25 seconds to utter, so that's a $7.20 explanation, but it contains a wealth of information – it's basically the DoJ's case in a nutshell.

But Stoller points out a curious fact that isn't captured here. Remember when I told you that TM/LN's NOI is $732m/year? What I didn't mention is the company's gross revenue: $16.7 billion.

When TM/LN talks about how shitty their business is, and therefore they can't be a monopoly, this is the trump card. How could a company creaming off a mere $732 million off $16.7 billion in gross revenue be a monopolist with "pricing power"?

This is where understanding corruption helps clarify our understanding and cut through the bullshit. Corruption is vastly wasteful. In order to extract $732m from $16.7b, TM/LN has to engage in a lot of wasteful and corrupt activities. They have to bribe other key players in the system, spend vast fortunes on lobbying, and generally do a lot of unproductive things with their money.

This is concentrated gains and diffuse losses. In order to command the highest salary of any American CFO, Berchtold has to cook up and maintain this process. In order to earn his $139m/year, Rapino has to play mafia don and keep everyone is his supply chain sufficiently terrorized or sufficiently greased to maintain omerta.

These two men take home a fifth of Ticketmaster's net income because they possess a rare and valuable skill. They are able to obfuscate a corrupt arrangement, enrobing it in layers of performative complexity, until the average musician, concertgoer, or lawmaker, can't understand it. Any attempt to unravel it will induce a deadly, soporific confusion. The investment industry term for his is MEGO (My Eyes Glaze Over), the weaponization of complexity. A skilled MEGO artist can convince you that the pile of shit they're peddling is so large that there must be a pony under it somewhere.

Here's Stoller, de-MEGOfying the TM/LN story:

Live Nation has a giant capital intensive unprofitable division of putting on concerts, from which it skims for its real cash flow. But this leverage among different subsidiaries means that it has an incentive to push up the cost of concerts overall, not just for its own profit. This incentive operates in two different ways. One, since ticket fees are based on the price of a ticket, Live Nation seeks higher prices for tickets so it can move more cash to its Ticketmaster subsidiary. And two, since Live Nation itself gets rebates by overpaying for venues, it has the incentive to push up the cost of shows. No one can undercut Live Nation, as it’s a monopoly.

You might think that this is a lot of mental energy to expend on understanding live performances. If you're not trying to see Taylor Swift, does any of this matter?

It assuredly does. Understanding how Ticketmaster's shell-game works is critical to understanding the similar shell-games played by many other kinds of monopolists, who have wrapped their tentacles around all the other parts of our lives. As David Dayen and Lindsay Owens write for The American Prospect, the companies that avoided monopoly prosecution by ripping off suppliers have bled those suppliers dry, and now they're coming for their customers:

https://prospect.org/economy/2024-06-03-age-of-recoupment/

From groceries to plane tickets, rent to cab rides, Amazon to Ticketmaster, we are living through the "Age of Recoupment," when the long con of lowering prices to secure monopolies flips enters it final stage: greedflating the shit out of customers, and using the monopolist's power over regulators to avoid consequences.

Today, everywhere consumers turn, whether they are shopping for groceries at the local Kroger or for plane tickets online, they are being gouged. Landlords are quietly utilizing new software to band together and raise rents. Uber has been accused of raising the price of rides when a customer’s phone battery is drained. Ticketmaster layers on additional fees as you move through the process of securing seats to your favorite artist’s upcoming show. Amazon’s secret pricing algorithm, code-named “Project Nessie,” was designed to identify products where it could raise prices, on the expectation that competitors would follow suit. Companies are forcing you into monthly subscriptions for a tube of toothpaste. Banks have crept up the price of credit, so customers who cannot afford price-gouging in their everyday transactions get a second round of price-gouging when they put purchases on credit. Expedia is using demographic and purchase history data to set hotel pricing for an audience of one: you.

When these companies end up in front of angry attorneys general, DOJ lawyers, or an FTC investigation, they'll use the Ticketmaster/Live Nation playbook to try and wriggle off the hook. They'll point to some barely-profitable (or money-losing) part of their business and say, "How could a monopolist possibly be running a business this shitty?"

If the DOJ makes its case against Ticketmaster, it will set a precedent, both in court and in policy circles, for understanding how a monopolist's corruption works. Monopolists aren't always businesses with gigantic margins. Like other criminals, their corruption can produce spectacular wealth and spectacular waste at the same time.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/03/aoi-aoi-oh/#concentrated-gains-vast-diffused-losses

[getyoungersblog]

Cold Sore Free Forever by Derek Shepton: The Complete Path to a Life Without Outbreaks

For anyone plagued by the misery of cold sores, the dread of the next outbreak can be as bad as the sores themselves. Triggered by the relentless Herpes Simplex Virus (HSV), cold sores are a painful, embarrassing nuisance that strike unpredictably throughout a person’s life. The idea of a lifetime of flare-ups with no permanent cure is devastating, making the promise of Cold Sore Free Forever a potential game-changer. This program not only claims to clear up current outbreaks in just three days but also offers a method to prevent future flare-ups entirely. Let's dive in and discover how this could be the solution many have been desperately seeking.

See More about "Cold Sore Free Forever" Here!

What is Cold Sore Free Forever?

Cold Sore Free Forever is the brainchild of Derek Shepton, who struggled with cold sores for 12 long years before discovering a solution that changed his life. Based on real user experiences, like that of Cameron Tran, this e-guide lays out a comprehensive, easy-to-follow system that promises to naturally eliminate cold sores in as little as three days. The guide spans 82 pages, divided into 11 detailed chapters, beginning with an in-depth explanation of cold sores and their triggers, followed by a step-by-step approach to treat and prevent future outbreaks. It consolidates a wealth of scattered information into one complete resource, making it a unique guide for those looking to tackle the problem head-on.

Click Here to Download PDF "Cold Sore Free Forever" eBook by Derek Shepton!

How Does It Work?

The program’s 11 chapters offer a structured journey from understanding the virus to completely eradicating cold sores:

Chapters 1-2: Lay the foundation with an overview of herpes, the different types of the virus, and how they impact the body.

Chapter 3: Introduces natural methods to combat outbreaks by boosting the immune system, balancing pH levels, and increasing oxygen intake.

Chapters 4-5: Provide actionable steps to enhance immune strength and balance the body’s pH, key factors in preventing cold sore flare-ups.

Chapters 6-8: Dive into the core techniques of the program, focusing on oxygenation and alkalization. By increasing oxygen intake, the program targets the virus's growth, offering an effective way to stop outbreaks.

Chapter 9: Reveals a simple but effective toothpaste method, detailing three easy steps for applying toothpaste to soothe and heal cold sores.

Chapters 10-11: Offer long-term strategies for keeping cold sores at bay, emphasizing the importance of an alkaline diet and regular exercise to maintain overall health and immunity.

Benefits of Cold Sore Free Forever

The natural approach of Cold Sore Free Forever has proven effective for many users. Here’s what sets it apart:

Boosts Confidence: Say goodbye to the embarrassment of visible cold sores and regain your self-assurance.

Convenient Self-Treatment: The guide provides a home-based solution, allowing you to tackle outbreaks privately without needing expensive visits to a doctor.

Comprehensive Approach: It doesn't just treat the symptoms but addresses the root causes of cold sores, potentially eliminating them for good.

No Side Effects: The methods are all-natural, using ingredients easily found at local grocery stores, making it safe for long-term use.

Long-Term Relief: With consistent use, the guide aims to keep you cold sore-free, sparing you the pain and discomfort of future outbreaks.

Pricing and Money Back Guarantee

When compared to costly medical treatments, Cold Sore Free Forever is a bargain at just $34.97. Traditional doctor visits can cost upwards of $80, and over-the-counter remedies add up to more than $180 annually. With this one-time investment, you gain instant access to the entire program in a convenient PDF format. Derek Shepton stands by his product, offering a 60-day money-back guarantee. If you find that the methods don’t work for you, a full refund is available with no questions asked—providing a risk-free opportunity to try this potentially life-changing program.

Bonuses

In addition to the main e-guide, customers also receive bonus materials that complement the program’s core methods. These bonuses include additional tips and techniques for improving overall health, maintaining a strong immune system, and managing stress—factors that can trigger cold sore outbreaks. This extra content makes the program even more valuable, equipping you with a full arsenal of tools to fight back against the Herpes Simplex Virus.

Conclusion

For those tired of the pain, embarrassment, and uncertainty of cold sores, Cold Sore Free Forever offers a ray of hope. Derek Shepton’s comprehensive, natural approach provides not just temporary relief but a potential pathway to lasting freedom from cold sores. With thousands of satisfied users and a solid money-back guarantee, it stands as a promising solution for anyone ready to take control of their health and live without the fear of another outbreak. It’s time to break free and regain your confidence—one simple click could change your life forever.

Click Here to Download eBook "Cold Sore Free Forever" PDF by Derek Shepton!

[former-leftist-jew]

Speaking of leaders sharing their true intent, you might want to pay a little more attention to what Hamas says and does outside of social media.

Hamas Charter, Article 7: The Islamic Resistance Movement aspires to the realisation of Allah's promise, no matter how long that should take. The Prophet, Allah bless him and grant him salvation, has said:

"The Day of Judgement will not come about until Moslems fight the Jews (killing the Jews), when the Jew will hide behind stones and trees. The stones and trees will say O Moslems, O Abdulla, there is a Jew behind me, come and kill him. Only the Gharkad tree, (evidently a certain kind of tree) would not do that because it is one of the trees of the Jews." (related by al-Bukhari and Moslem).

Yes, this is a real hadith that many Islamists believe in and Hamas wants to act on.

Hamas leaders have openly stated again and again that their only goal is to annihilate Israel, to kill all Jews, and forcibly spread Sharia Law to the rest of the world.

They've openly stated that they don't care about their citizens--that they don't consider the people they govern, the people who elected them into power, the people whose wealth and resources they steal and hoard for themselves, to be their responsibility.

And yet you spend all your time and attention obsessively hate-following and documenting every not-nice thing every Israeli leader have said on social media?

And you don't think Israel being the one Jewish State in the entire world MIGHT have anything to do with it??

Just compare a map of the World Muslim Population: 1.9 billion.

To the World Jewish Population: 15.2 million.

Muslims: Roughly 25% of the world population. (8 billion humans, 2 billion muslims, so 2/8 or 1/4 human beings total.)

Jews: Roughly 0.02% of the world population.

And of those, how many Jews live in Muslim Majority countries.

Yeah, such colonialism. Much aggressive expansionism.

ALSO, in all that time, did you never question why this:

Looks like this:

Because of this:

With the help of this:

You don't question why they speak Arabic in Morocco (far from the Arabian Peninsula...)

Yet you're so sure the one tiny Jewish-majority state is the Big Bad Colonizing force in a SEA of Arab Muslim ethno-religious states??

The vast majority of violent religious extremism occurs in Muslim-majority countries with Muslim-on-Muslim violence, yet that tiny little Jewish State the size of New Jersey is the problem?

There's so much more I could say about, but I'll just settle on this:

"I think Israel has every right to try to destroy Hamas. You know--look: war is hell; war is always hell, the war in Gaza is hell, and there is an enormous amount of suffering there. No one [reasonable] is going to deny that. But I think a lot of the Western media coverage overlooks the fact that: Hamas STARTED this war with its pogrom on the 7th of Oct. It's also refusing to END the war by 1) returning the Israeli hostages, 2) surrendering on Israel's terms, which is what Hamas ought to be doing. It is the weaker party in this conflict, but its refusing to surrender [or protect its civilians]. And, in fact, Hamas has made it perfectly clear that it will carry on attacking Israel, and it will carry out more 7th of Octs. They've said that on numerous occasions over the past few weeks. So, I think the Western activists and the Western journalists who are calling for a 'Ceasefire Now!' They're not actually calling for a ceasefire, they are calling for Israel to capitulate. They are calling for Israel to CAPITULATE to a movement that is violently antisemetic, and which has promised to attack Israelis again. So: NO OTHER STATE IN THE WORLD would be expected to live next-door to a violent racist movement, that threatened to kill its civilians, and yet somehow the Woke West expects Israel to put up with that exact situation. They should be honest: They want Israel to surrender to the fascists of Hamas. That is what they are calling for.

Hamas are basically the serial killers next door--the KKK rally openly declaring they'll wipe out the neighboring black community near their pristine all-white town. And you are one of the yahoos telling the butchered community to just get over it and leave if they don't like it.

Fucking no. It's our home too. We're not going anywhere.

Even the son of one of Hamas' co-founders is sick of this shit.

So, yes: What Israel is doing IS self-defense. Hamas won't stop trying to butcher Israelis, so Israelis won't and shouldn't stop trying to destroy the genocidal terrorist group actively trying to kill them and actively hiding among civilian populations, like the neighborhood serial killer hiding in neighboring houses.

Israel does everything in its power to limit civilian casualties as much as it can, while Hamas does everything in its power to cause as many civilian casualties as it can.

Fucking hold Palestinian leaders responsible for their words and actions for once in your life.

And please stop infantilizing Palestinians as simple, peaceful, brown noble savages who were only introduced to the concept of war, violence, and extremism by the Big Bad European Zionist--despite ALL evidence to the contrary, which you'd know if you bothered to learn ANYTHING about the region.

(Again, I know I'm not going to change your mind because you've already made it up, but let the record show...)

"It doesn't matter 'who started it'. Violence is NEVER THE ANSWER and it's ALWAYS WRONG to hit someone, even if they hit you first--even if you hit back in self-defense."

"Murder is ALWAYS WRONG, regardless of the circumstance. Even if they're actively trying to kill you and the ONLY WAY to save your own life (or the life of a loved one) is to kill them first in self-defense."

"If you hit/kill someone trying to hit/kill you, you're JUST AS BAD as the guy who's trying to hit/kill you if you do it back."

It's funny how leftist twitter and tumblr is filled with young people who know how wildly stupid and unfair this mentality is... until it's applied to jews.

The same kids who say "punching bullies and fascists is a moral imperative" because appealing to their kindness and humanity doesn't work--because violence is the only language they speak, and the only response they respect--and no one is morally obligated to endure bullying or cruelty or death just to win some empty moral victory...

Turn around and tell Jews, "It doesn't matter who started this war. Killing/bombing is ALWAYS WRONG, no matter the circumstances. If you do it to them, you're JUST AS BAD as they are, and thus you deserve whatever violence they inflict on you..."

Fucking bite me.

At least pearl-clutching 70s-90's white Christian house moms condemned violence across the board--they didn't like it in movies, TV shows, video games, or baseball games any more than they liked it on the playground.

But youngass leftists who've cheered and celebrated violence in nearly every aspect of their life, fiction, history, and news--from "punching nazis," to BLM riots, to "throw a brick through a ceo's house" to "burn it all down!" and whatever passing trend I've forgotten...

NOW SUDDENLY think, "Killing is always wrong, regardless of the circumstances. Hitting/killing back is just as bad as hitting/killing first. Self-defense is no excuse. It's better to sit back and let yourself and your loved ones be killed rather than hit/kill back in self-defense."

Fucking bite me.

[triflesandparsnips]

A Thing I'm noticing in some OFMD fic (and which tbh is a big impetus for my "Stede and medical horror" essay, from which this tangent has been excised) is a sort of creeping trope of Stede as noble hero bringing the beauty and softness of upperclass life to whatever pirate lovers he takes on. This trope relies on a very Bridgerton-style romanticized ideal of Stede, where his only real issue in his previous life was that he was Super Gay -- and so, theoretically, once he's in a place to understand and freely live his Super Gay life, it's assumed that he's basically all set on a personal level.

Conflict in this trope comes in the form of Stede trying to deal with other people's trauma, and he often plays the role of a somewhat bumbling but otherwise beatific psychopomp to the New World of Softness. Much like how the "Regency duke" or the "widowed billionaire" is the idealized lover in some genres of romance, fic that goes this route tends to cast Ed or Izzy or whichever Poor Tortured Pirate Stede shacks up with as a stand-in for the reader themselves, so that they can be comforted and cosseted by Stede and his vast array of indulgences that we're assured it's "okay" to want and that we are good enough to "deserve".

And like... I'm as big a fan of the "intensely rich person has wrapped me in cashmere and is telling me I can nap as often as I like because I'm precious" fantasy as the next person. But when a trope becomes, say, a pervasive fanon instead of just one aspect of a character being examined, it diminishes who that character is, what stories they can tell, and the breadth of the experience they can reflect for readers.

[b-exodus]

00 THE TECHNICIAN

STATS

FULL NAME: Bishanpal Chanda NICKNAME: Bishan, Benny AGE: 29 GENDER: cis-male PRONOUNS: he/him PLACE OF BIRTH: Monterey, Mexico NATIONALITY: Mexican ETHNICITY: Gujarati Indian/White EDUCATION: Master in Robotics RELIGION: Atheist, raised Sikh  LANGUAGES: Spanish (mother tongue), Gurajarti (mother tongue), Portuguese (fluent), English (fluent), Hunsrik (conversational), Polish and Ukrainian (conversational) SEXUALITY: panromantic bisexual FACECLAIM: Sam Otto

HEADCANONS

THE MOTHER/THE CHANCELLOR: Despite the position gained later in life, Bishan’s mother, now the chancellor of great power and wealth, came from humble beginnings. A failed marriage, a miscarriage, a son by a married man. She survived the scornful looks of those who thought she meant nothing, she didn’t deserve any place in this world. But in their hateful looks, Laji, twenty-one at the time, found strength. She raised her son in poverty, while she worked to set up her first business, to earn money through hard work and smart investments. Even if it meant barely being home, she believed she would one day give her son - and herself - a life of comfort and luxury. Her political career started at twenty-five, smart remarks and quick solutions to difficult economical problems resulted in a swift growth from entrepreneur to party-leader, to voice of reason, to Chancellor. Her career is littered with missed opportunities, scandals, and horrid decisions that have resulted in deep grief; but she has never held back from setting things right, apologising, and doing better. During all her active years she studied whatever she got her hands on, she became not just a politician, but a doctor too, physics, biology, advanced mathematics.

At the age of fifty, Laji commands a room, she simply has to walk in and everyone falls silent, she has an intelligent look and keeps her silence unless she knows she has something to add to the conversation. She values the knowledge of others, and she understands sacrifice.

Her son is a product of her relentless ambition and her strict enforced work ethic. Living in poverty till he was well in his teens, he was always aware that to have nothing was to want everything. While his mother was away, working in her business or sharpening her wit, Bishan was either cooking at home, being taught by the nuns at school, or playing soccer with his friends. Despite the many chores, boring classes, and barely seeing his mom, he loved his life. As he got older, he realised how simple things had been, and how nostalgic he was for that simplicity. But while his mother thought that wealth and knowledge would bring the both of them freedom and luxury, he always felt it just brought responsibility, the need to prove oneself, and misery.

As his mother got richer, her time at home increased, not by much, but enough to start dictating his life again. She enrolled him in better schools, she set the expectations, he just had to live up to them. She wouldn’t scowl at him when he didn’t meet them, but he felt the ever present weight of her wishes for him. So he scowled himself, locked himself up until he got high enough marks to be praised. And praise him, she certainly did. She had a good eye, she saw where his talents lay, she gave him things to tinker with, she got him expensive drones and cars and anything he could take apart.

While his mother fought to become the most powerful person, Bishan began to get accustomed to a life of luxury. He wasn’t rowdy, he didn’t do things that would get his mother angry, he would never. But he was getting into the public eye, and when other politicians tried to discredit his mother, her son was fair game too. Even if he did everything right, people would always find something wrong with him. He was always compared, weighed, considered, but never valued. He was an extension of his mother’s power, he would never be her equal, all he was capable of was dragging her down.

UNDIAGNOSED PANIC DISORDER: While, in his own words, completely under control, Bishan suffers from panic attacks when he’s been ignoring his most negative feelings for too long. He likes to go on pretending the position his mother has set him in doesn’t do anything to him. But it takes its toll once in a while. Where the fear of judgement and rejection grow so tall that he’s no longer able to reason it away. It’s one of the reasons why he likes to be alone when he makes his mistakes, so nobody is there to see him. Why he fights so intensely against anyone questioning his abilities and skills, and why his retorts are defensive and harsh, since nobody ever sees him fail, so why would they question him. But because nobody ever sees him struggle up close, and he still feels like he should also be deserving of their pity - as if that is something he’s entitled to -, he builds up emotion that has no way out.  

THE MISSION/THE ESCAPE: the freedom Bishan once possessed and the freedom he was promised once his mother had all the power she wished for were two different norms. Bishan had been a careless child with too many cares. When his mother became a politician, there was no more freedom. Sure, he could go anywhere, buy anything he wanted, he could eat the things he had only dreamt of, he could get an expensive car and take it completely apart without ever resembling it again - his favourite past-time. But he always needed to look good, behave well, say nothing political, don’t talk about his past, smile, be friendly, be kind, be respectful… Always be a better version of himself.

His mother spoke of great sacrifice when she first brought up the THE DASSHUTSU PROJECT, of a last chance for humanity’s survival. They lived comfortably then, just the two of them, she barely had time for her son, and she had no time for starting another family. He was all she had, he often doubted he could say he had even the tiniest spec of her. If he could take his mother apart and resemble her, would he find the pieces he was looking for? She loved him, he was certain of that, but he knew she had grown unable to express it. When she spoke of sacrifice, the last thing he expected was her to mean him.

Bishan didn’t fight the offer, there wasn’t anything to fight, he didn’t think he had a choice in the matter, but the prospect of it had excited him at first. He liked the idea of getting away, not like he always thought he would, the late nights and early mornings when he snuck out of the house and bought other people’s silence. But really getting away. Escaping all the expectations, all the endless conversations of meaningless things.

THE QUALIFICATIONS/THE DISAPPOINTMENT: those who would step on the deck of the X1 andromeda would be the very best. As more news and details of the mission came out, Bishan grew worried. He might be a sacrifice, but was he also putting himself up to be a failure? He started to beg his mother to reconsider, that or help him gain an edge, more training, something to ensure he wouldn’t be a liability. His mother did as asked, she provided him all the technical details of the ship and the equipment on it. When available she would ensure parts of the equipment found their way to his rooms. But most importantly, she told him that all he needed to do was his job. He didn’t need to shine, he didn’t need to be perfect.

Had she not raised him, it might’ve been enough. But he was ambitious too. Instead of learning the ins and outs of the equipment, Bishan sought to make them better. Any modification he did, any model he updated, any part of the craft he didn’t like, he requested his mother to change, to let him be the one to replace it. They both kept this under wraps until absolutely necessary. His designs were tested, approved, and installed. He didn’t take full credit, after all, he was using what other people had already made.

Despite all of it, the effort done before the mission was announced, he knew he was still going to stick out.

THE TRAINING: at the end of the first six weeks, when the simulators would finally be left behind, Bishan was certain he had broken the record of times any training ended in puking. Even though he made progress, the sheer amount of vomit made it so he lost three kilos. He didn’t dare to eat too much breakfast in fear of having all of it end up on the floor. He ate by himself, kept to the back, snapped at people who got too close, all while holding the air of importance, the stature that was taught him. He felt disappointed that he couldn’t make puking look good.

He hated the survival training, but at least he wasn’t a total dead weight. He felt like he knew survival, the physical challenges were not his strong suit, but he knew how to go without food, he knew how to get clean drinking water, he had put up snares before. Still, teamed up with the Captain, Bishan never stood out, he tried not to, he did things in secret, behind the backs of others, if he made mistakes, he could cover them up, if he succeeded, he could look like a competent individual. The Geologist, he amused with conversations, answered some of the questions, tried not to be envious of how normal he was. How boring, and how he made boring interesting. How he made ‘boring’ almost… admirable.

When they returned from the survival training, Bishan was exhausted. At home he could stop pretending, lock himself away with his tools and all his technology, be himself. Here he was constantly on edge, aware of what people might think of him, eager to hide all his mistakes. If they said he did something wrong, he would deny it, he didn’t make mistakes. His mother was certainly not a subject accepted in his company, nor his upbringing or his lack of qualification. One Masters, on a ship with PHDs, military backgrounds, people who had ACTUALLY flown in a spacecraft. He just needed to do his job.

And sit in a dark room for ten days, that too.

The first two days were utter perfection. Bishan sang songs, slept, day dreamt, and thought of new designs, things that could be helpful if he was thrown into survival training again. The third day he began to worry. The fourth day the worrying got worse. The fifth, he was completely convinced he would drag himself and the team down before the mission ended. He wasn’t sure how he survived the next five days, the anxiety was constant and he couldn’t really shut it off, he didn’t know how much time had passed. When the exercise ended and the evaluation started, Bishan was honest, not about his deepest worries, but about the terrors of being alone with his own thoughts.

He spent so many of the days reconsidering the mission, he didn’t want to go, he didn’t care that he would forever stay in his mother’s shadow, perhaps he could do something great?

It didn’t matter what he wanted, he was the sacrifice, and at least the public eye would disappear. He was like his mother, he was ambitious, he would help save humanity. He had to save humanity.

VISIONS

When you fell through the wormhole, you saw your mother, she was perched atop a golden throne, sat in a red shari, donned in all of her finest jewellery. Her skin was tight around her bones, she looked old, almost ancient. Her eyes were closed, new eyes drawn upon the dry eyelids, staring into nothing. Her hair, or what was left of it, sat tall on her head like a crown. The room looked like an ancient Greek temple, with high pillars on each side of the room, marmer floors covered half in red desert sand, red light shining down into the room through the pillars, like a vibrant sunset. You saw yourself, standing in a dark forest, a tattered spacesuit hanging around limbs clearly hardened by training and strain. Your face is hidden beneath darkness, a shadow falling under your curly hair. There were high ropey trees all around you, blue light coming down from between the gaps in the canopy, filling the whole scene with a scary glow. Around your legs there were roots, the ground not visible beneath the layers of tangled plants. (images)

PLAYLIST

Those Nights by Bastille

Oceaan by Racoon

Inuyasha by Mahmood

[bailey-reaper]

The Lord of the Manor (5)

Summary: It is said that you 'reap what you sow', apparently that saying is no different for Grim Reapers...

Content Warnings: angst, xenophobia reference / imperialist thinking + me taking artistic liberties re: the van Zieks family

Other parts: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) |

In the distance Barok could hear voices talking, which only served to confuse him. He was inside Klint's burial chamber, no one else should be here. He opened his eyes, head pounding, and found his confusion grew all the more.

This was not his brother's crypt. It was his own room, yet he had no recollection of leaving the family cemetery or the journey home.

He felt warm and dizzy, and that feeling intensified when he tried to sit up, "...Ugh..." it was slowly dawning on him that he was feverish. Most likely due to the reckless trip he took during a fierce storm.

"My Lord, are you awake?" he heard Harvey's voice.

"... Yes," his croaked, as though his vocal chords had rusted, "... What... happened, Harvey?" no doubt the butler could elucidate him.

"The groundskeeper was tending to the cemetery after the storm and found you collapsed on the floor. He came back to the estate and informed me, I then arranged to have you brought home so that the physician could assess you. Thankfully he does not think it's anything serious, most likely fatigue."

".... I see," Barok laid back in the bed and closed his eyes, his vision was already starting to swim, "... Thank you, Harvey."

"It is my pleasure, my lord, I am glad you are safe... the physician thinks you may have a fever but that you should recover after a few days of rest. Please let me know if you need anything."

"I will..." his consciousness was already slipping; soon enough he drifted to sleep.

──────≪⊰✥⊱≫───────

His sleep was fitful; drifting in and out of consciousness for several hours while his body wracked with freezing shivers and unbearable flashes of warmth. He writhed and groaned as the fever took a firmer hold of his faculties.

"Truly you seem to be suffering, little brother..."

Barok opened his eyes and stared in disbelief at the man sitting on his bed -- Klint. He was sat there, looking over at him with face marred by concern, "... K...Klint?" he uttered, before trying to sit up only to think better of it when his head throbbed sharply.

"Mmm," his older brother nodded, "Truth be told you're hallucinating, but I suppose that's to be expected when you neglect yourself in this manner."

A wry smile tugged his lips; it seemed his own mind was set upon chastising him for his earlier impulsiveness, "... Of course... a figment of my imagination."

"Yes... you've pushed yourself too hard of late, no wonder things have gotten on top of you and now you're feverish and hallucinating."

"..." he felt a strong surge of sadness in the pit of his stomach, "My mind couldn't at least trick me into thinking you were a ghost..."

"You're too cynical for that," the mirage pointed out, "No doubt you'd have tried to cross-examine this situation and forced the truth out of yourself."

It was irksome how accurate that statement was, and how he was incapable of formulating a witty reply to it. Eventually he gave up and muttered, "... Perhaps."

"Undoubtedly," the figment said, "Now, I suppose we'd best get to the bottom of why you're having this moment of delirium..."

"Clearly because I'm feverish," he retorted dryly.

"No..." Klint shook his head, "Clearly you need to do some soul searching. You've lost your way, your feelings of hopelessness have driven you to be reckless and now you don't know what to do with yourself. Perhaps you need to take a step back and re-calibrate, little wolf."

"Nonsense..." he muttered as he draped a hand over his eyes; his forehead was burning, "I... I know precisely what I need to do..."

"Oh really? Well I assure you that clinging to the past isn't it."

".... I know that," but how could he resist? This house was full of memories; it was the last place in all the world where Klint's memory was still a tangible thing that he could hold on to. It was all he had left of him.

"Find something to live for, Barok. You have a chance to turn a new page, to step out of your brother's shadow. You don't have to be a prosecutor. You don't have to be a lawyer. You can be whatever you want."

"Whatever I want..." he mumbled to himself as a wave of tiredness washed over him; he relinquished himself to it and drifted into a deep sleep

──────≪⊰✥⊱≫───────

For several days, Barok continued to drift in and out of delirious conversations with a mimicry of his brother. Until his body recovered and he overcame the fever; there was a dull pang in his chest when it dawned on him that he could not longer hallucinate his brother's presence watching over him, but, it was a familiar grief and one he continued to hold in his core.

He decided to take the fever dreams to heart, rather than wallowing, and set about busying himself with numerous distractions; a main one being repairing the old family estate. It had been refurbished sometime during his grandfather's lifetime, but it seemed the work had been rather shoddy.

In between the renovations, he engaged in correspondence with a few individuals in London, including members of the Prosecutor's Office, and dabbled in stocks to maintain the family's wealth. His employment as a Prosecutor was hardly a king's ransom, but it had been an impressive wage and he was conscious to avoid squandering his family's assets while he languished in a malaise.

For a few years that became his routine, and it was a reasonably comfortable one. He enjoyed the Devon countryside atop Black Gale and distracted himself with a mix of physical and cerebral activities. Yet, it felt profoundly empty to him; there was an acute sense of wistfulness at his core and he knew precisely what it related to.

He had geared his entire life for a career as a lawyer, and the part of his mind that had enjoyed the intellectual rigour found his current life far too humdrum. Of course he still read the Legal Reports not long after they were handed down by the Courts, out of a 'healthy curiosity', he told himself, but reading about the law was nothing when compared to actually practising it.

The anecdotes he received from his peers in the Prosecutor's Office did little to slake that innermost wish, in fact they only stoked it more. But he resisted by reminding himself why he left in the first place.

Should he return, the Capital would once more be swept up in its 'Reaper fever'; the press would fixate on his every move, the criminal underbelly of London would sharpen its knifes and perhaps this time manage to get his eyes... Fear had no part of it, for he did not fear death, but it grew wearisome to be so fetishised by the world at large and all it did was remind him all the more that Klint was not here.

Klint was the one who had inspired such a fervent love of the law in him; his righteousness, his acumen, his talent for public speaking... every time he'd watched his brother in court he'd fallen in love with the law a little more, for it embodied the very things his brother stood for. Or, that's what he'd wanted to believe.

The truth had been a bitter pill to swallow – for, while the law had the best of intentions, it was a clunky machine that often failed to work at the moment where individuals and society at large most needed it. Loopholes and the unjust were constantly undermining it. He felt the dichotomy between reality and idealism keenly. He had often equated the Law with Justice, but sadly the two things were not synonymous.

Sometimes he wondered how Klint had coped with that knowledge, for he saw his brother as a bastion of justice and a man of integrity who would no doubt have been just as aware of the law's failings as he. How he longed to ask his brother now that he had the benefit of practical experience.

For several years he maintained his distance from London and the law; many among the aristocracy gossiped, from rumours about his death to wild theories about his having eloped to America to marry into some wealthy entrepreneurial family, but for the most part he ignored them too. The only time he deigned to mingle with the other noble families was when such was demanded of him as master of the house.

One day, however, a letter arrived from London that piqued his interest to the point he could no longer resist it.

Magnus McGilded was becoming an increasingly brazen problem for the capital. He knew the moneylender had something of a reputation, one that caused misery among the desperate and unfortunate who had fallen upon hardtimes; but it sounded as though his activities were causing more angst than ever before, not least of all because he continued to evade the Courts through underhanded means.

Of course, his friend opined, it was not possible to prove that Magnus McGilded was bribing the Jury, buying witnesses and a catalogue of other dubious evasive tactics; but nor could anyone explain why entire cases were dropped at the last minute or why the police had failed to locate key witnesses until they themselves appeared from nowhere with vital information (in McGilded's favour).

It irked him to his core as he read of the various trials that had collapsed, and for the first time in a long while he felt a strong desire to do something. To bring the rodent out of his labyrinth of deceptions and into the light of day. He knew full well it was something that he would be capable of, were he to oversee a future investigation...

His mind raced with thoughts about how to outwit the Irish Shylock at his own game...

Another thing that piqued his interest was a throwaway postscript:

[Ps. We've had word from Lord Stronghart to expect some Nipponese student in a few months time. Apparently there is some cultural exchange afoot and the young man will be studying British law. I can't say I see the necessity, but I suppose our great nation ought to be charitable to those from more impoverished places...]

Seeing that word roused ugly feelings in his core, things that he had managed to keep his distance from for some time; but the anger was never far away. The resentment, like rot, was deep in his soul and it had been left alone but not eradicated.

The near-five years he had spent in the ancestral home was a welcomed reprieve, and served to focus his mind to some degree. He had never lost his passion for the law, and now it seemed there were reasons to pull him back into the foray.

Perhaps it was high time the Reaper returned London...

─────── Fin.

[wraithqveen-archive]

there’s a lot to unpack when it comes to inej and queen imagery/themes tbh because while it’s obviously not literal it’s prevalent from the beginning of the duology in a sense of being in a place of importance/leadership

So eager to be Queen of the Thieves, Inej?

and of course kaz’ famous quote that relates more to the sense of wealth and power

“We’ll be kings and queens, Inej. Kings and queens.”

then we have dunyasha who places herself as the queen figure vs inej being the enemy/villain

“I told you, Wraith. I am fearless. My blood flows with the strength of every queen and conqueror who came before me.”

and the fact inej herself compares dunyasha to a queen, and how many of her thoughts are about the white blade being the royal/noble/beautiful/protagonist figure instead of herself

She was a queen without mercy, a figure carved in ivory and amber.

but she overcomes that obstacle and that enemy, and by the end of it, there’s someone else beyond herself or kaz thinking of them in terms of kings and queens

The problem was that the creatures who had managed to survive the city he’d made were a new kind of misery entirely—Brekker, his Wraith queen, his rotten little court of thugs.

one day I’ll discuss all of it in depth

[wisdomrays]

TAFAKKUR: Part 419

THE TRAGEDY OF THE AMAZON: Part 1

The Amazon tropical rainforest is the largest in the world, spanning nine Latin American countries-Brazil, Peru, Ecuador, Colombia, Bolivia, Venezuela, Guyana, French Guinea and Surinam -and covering 5.5 million square kilometers (550 million hectares), an area nearly six times the size of Turkey (Goldenberg and Durham, 1990, p.25). It catches an average annual rainfall of more than 100 inches and is the home of literally millions of species of plants and animals, most of them unique to the region. One hectare of Amazon rainforest may hold as many as 230 different species of trees, compared to the 10 or 15 species in the equivalent area of any other rainforest (see The Ecologist 1989, special issue on the Amazon). One report estimated, for a typical 4 sq. mile patch, approximately 750 species of trees, 125 of mammals, 400 of birds, 100 of reptiles and 60 of amphibians, while a single tree might be the habitat of more than 400 insect species, 80.000 plant species (including 600 kinds of palm alone) and some 30 million animal species inhabit the Amazon forest (Linden, 1988, p.45).

For that reason, the region constitutes a vast, natural pharmacopoeia. Plant and animal tissues obtained from the rain forest are used in the production of chemicals of known medicinal potency. (The ingredients for the best known drugs are extracted from the tropical plants.) So far less than one percent of the Amazon’s plant species have been studied for their possible curative properties (McGee, 1990, pp.516-17).

In contrast to the wealth of its flora and fauna, the soil of the Amazon is poor, so poor that, when large areas are cleared up, the regeneration process may take as long as 300, in some places even 1000 years (Giamo, 1988, p.539). But, the forest is rich in various natural resources: deposits of manganese, aluminium, copper, tin, nickel, iron, gold and natural gas have been found. Annual production of these minerals is worth about 1.5 billion dollars (McGee, 1990, p.515).

The region as a whole is vital to the maintenance of the world ecological order; it is an important factor in world weather patterns; nearly half of the world’s oxygen atmosphere is released from its vegetation; and approximately two-thirds of the world’s fresh water is stored in the Amazon basin.

DEFORESTATION OF THE AMAZON

Today, one of the most serious problems facing the international community is the uncontrolled destruction of this unique environment. Deforestation of the Amazon region is being done by all nine states sharing the region, though Brazil, 59% of whose territory is located in the Amazon basin, is the most active. Over the last three decades, the scale of destruction has become intolerable. There are no precise figures; the estimate is a loss of 13.000 sq. km. of forest annually. The total destruction of the Brazilian Amazon so far amounts to 415.000 sq. km., an area about the size of Iraq (Cerrill, 1992, p.44). Pessimists expect the Brazilian rainforest to have been largely destroyed by the first decades of the next century, despite a fall in the rate of destruction (ibid).

In a global perspective, the destruction of the earth’s lungs (for that is what the rainforests are) raises two problems. First, the increase in carbon dioxide (CO2) emissions into the atmosphere. In 1988 an estimated 12,000 sq. miles of Brazilian forest, an area larger than Belgium, was set alight to clear land for agricultural use. Excessive CO2 emission from such fires is among the main causes of the so-called greenhouse effect: Amazon deforestation contributes nearly five percent of the total CO2 emissions worldwide; the region as a whole stores in its flora 0.75 billion tons of carbon (Linden, 1989, p.46). The increase in the temperature of the earth’s surface will bring about climatic chaos, threatening the future of the global ecosystem including mankind. Second, deforestation goes hand in hand with the destruction of fauna and flora. It is estimated that every day one species becomes extinct (Goldenberg and Durham, 1990, p.26). If the Amazon rainforests vanish, more than a million species, a significant portion of the earth’s biological diversity and genetic heritage, will become extinct (Linden, 1989, p.45). The scale of the danger can be simply illustrated: 900 species of fig provide essential nutrition for spider monkeys, peccaries (a variety of pig) and toucans, for over three months of every year; the figs themselves depend on pollination by wasps–if the wasps go, all species higher up on the food chain go also: the monkeys and jaguars would disappear.

The well-being of the generations to come is dependent upon the preservation of biological diversity. Failure means that our children will be deprived of the opportunity to discover or modify pharmaceutical compounds from the genetic diversity that is now available but would then not be. And that lack would be felt also in the agricultural sector where genes taken from wild species are used to interbreed with domesticated varieties to enrich and strengthen them. For example, the California barley crop, with an estimated annual value of $160 million, was rendered immune to the lethal yellow dwarf virus by a gene from a barley plant found in Ethiopia (Dobson, 1992, p.282). That is why even Westerners agree that ‘Brazil is very important to the international community because of its biological diversity’ (Cerrill, 1992, p.46).

The Brazilians are accused of constructing highways, colonizing the region through large-scale migration, ranching, mining and lumbering. In fact, all the Latin American countries who share it also share in the destruction of the rainforest. In some of these countries, the forest is cleared to grow coca for cocaine production. Many endangered plants and animal species are caught for export to the West’s pet shops. The local governments are unable or reluctant to enforce international agreements to protect the fauna and flora threatened with extinction.

The principal excuse for the ongoing destruction is widespread poverty, even hunger, in the countries concerned. One Brazilian president said ‘we cannot discuss the environment issue without taking into account the situation of poverty and misery in which three-quarters of humanity lives’ (Cerrill, 1992, p.46). We should ask ourselves why such poverty arises in a region which Allah has endowed with so much natural wealth and beauty.

[bitchscavenger]

find me

I've been living with my parents for twenty years before I moved out. My parents were happy, until my dad got heart attack and dying. That's where everything changes. Mom not really pleased when dad is drug induced and sleep all the time. She starts find another person to satisfy her attention. That time she got herself a boyfriend, who she talks bad all the time. I’m not mad at her, I’m glad she's happy, so was my dad.

Later, he got worse and died. Mom cried so hard, but she got her boyfriend by her side. She collects herself pretty good. Dad left enough to make her live her life alone. He even left her with her boyfriend. What a thoughtful man he is. I don't know where I stand or what should I feel for him to let her have another man while they are together. That's their problem, not mine. Then again, I’m such an ungrateful bad kid who didn’t care about what my parent do.

Despite that story, my mom always made me listened to her. So did my dad. I got no voice in my life. Only got ear to listened and body to do what I’ve been told. Even when I am stressing about my grades. Even if I got bullied in school. Even if I have eating disorder. They don’t know because they didn’t tell me to talk. Always listened and decide in silent. That’s what I do best. Every argument I made is a stupid idea.  As a prestige’s well-mannered family, I was born into, you need to be lady when you're a girl. I’m far for it, never have been a lady for once. Yes, I listened to them, but they’re not around enough no caging me in their house. I go out a lot. I join lots of school project and extracellular. That’s how I spent my live, living outside the world. Even they never really knew what I’ve done or who I’m with.

Mom always said "Don’t be stupid, you can’t do that, we don’t do that, I raised you to be better than that, go find something else"

That “stupid” word been embedded in my head. That phrase where she said how not enough I am. You can only being told so much before you start believed in them.  That it did. I believe my voice isn’t good. My word doesn’t matter. My existence isn’t important. 

I left to go to college abroad. Building my carrier into Olympian. I'm happy and contented and busy with work. Do job that I love, it’s heaven. I don’t even think of anything that time. I’m in love with my job and myself, never disappointing.

I get close with my family. Go home every year and call every month. But that just not enough. No matter how much I call them, I only listened, that’s what I do best and what they expect me. Pleasing everyone is exhausting, changing you into someone you don’t want to looked in the mirror. 

Nonetheless, I always listened and try to help as much as I can, just not vice versa. Maybe that’s my fault. I never tell them anything, just tell them what everybody already knows. Never let them in, hoping is hurting, I never open for hope. Hoping people do what you try to do, making them happy, when they can’t do the same. 

I didn’t tell how sick I am with myself. How hard to build myself. How tiring to eat something. How hard to looked into the mirror. How hard to be accepted. How hard to find something worth in you to fight. How exhausting to fight every time darkness took me back to the old me. Not even when I’m confident to tell my argument. Not when I’m happy knowing my worth. Not when I’m satisfied after five course meal I finish. I’m so used with my new self, living it and don’t need anyone to judge and don’t care. I don’t share myself with them. I’ve been raised to listened and that's what I best do and what made them happy. Until my disease kick in.

It's an autoimmune disease where there's inflammation in spinal cord and optic nerve. Google it NMO. First time I thought it only a near-sighted, then it became colorless and more and more blurred vision. I’m scared I’ll be blind, so I go to hospital. Well, knowing how hard I work and how little I rest, thought it only lack of focus from being tired. Two year later my body gave up. I just finish my Olympic final game in Brazil when all my arm and legs start to burn and tight and painful until I feel nothing. Can’t feel my arm and leg anymore. I give up and lost my gold medal. Collapsing on locker room.

It was my first injury, or so I thought. There just no muscle that inflamed. I work so hard for this I never risk my body. When my doctor said I need to stop because I push my muscle too much, I stop. I took my time and rest. Working on debate club in school or lazily study so I can graduate. I'm not ambitions but I enjoy doing sport, i love it and that's what my live have been.

They took me to hospital. I forget how long I was there, but nothing works. They give lots and lots of drug and nothing work. My body keep boring and I start losing my vision. Until my MRI test said I have spinal cord inflammation. That's the treatment start. A whole year I do psychotherapy. Alone. There only five people who know at first, my doctor my coach, my coach assistant and two of my teammates. They support me so much I’m grateful having them. 

I start focusing on finish collage while climb debating carrier because I got no energy to work my body muscle. News said I bailed and what a coward, close, cocky bitch I am. Yap, they talk trash about me because I don’t mingle on my first Olympic party. That what my family know too, and I let them. 

Also, at that time I felt that I am. Or my body is. My body bailed on me. It's such a shame that your body can't keep up with your mind. Living in your head, knowing what to do but can't. 

But I didn’t regret it. I’m glad I colas, so I get rid of toxicity in my live. Saving the best part and keeping it close. I’m happily working in school and climbing my debate carrier. Having debate teammates that never took pity on me. Country paid half of my treatment and I get help from support system, charity, and foundation. I know I won't heal. After a year full of physical therapy, I got my strength back. The relapse is on and off. I had my roommate slash best friend and debate teammates looked after me. It's pretty easy to treat me, either you wait until get better by myself or call ambulance which is my first and only emergency contact. Mostly the former because it isn’t a bad relapse.

I’m so lucking having her-kind of friend. The one who call all my bullshit no matter how sick I am. The kind who nagging me for my stupidity while clean up my mess. She knows I can feel when the symptoms start, just like get warning form deep down. That, usually I ditch the warning and she'll get crazy mad cause I didn’t tell her. But sometimes the symptoms came so suddenly I can’t even get a warning, that's when the worse came. God only know what cause it and she's the only one who really care. I don’t even care. My coach only care if it's interfered my training or impact my skill. Usually it isn’t. My relapse isn’t that bad, thank god. Even when I need to hit hospital, the recovery only takes one- or two-days max. But my best girl has too big heart not to care about me. And for once I hold on to her cause she knows my struggle from start, and I know her struggle from broken heart. Can’t say I have experience on that, but so far, my advice is good. Even my debate club friend asked me relationship advice. Guess romance movie hit on me very well.

I got back to Olympic eventually. After two years finishing collage and there's nothing to do than living my life the way I can, I decide I’m capable go back to field. It helps releasing stress and prevent relapse. My doctor clears me out. He can't say much actually. This is the kind of disease that you carry as long as you live. Only you can choose whether living your life the fullest or drowning in your misery. I choose the former.

Until one day, when I visit my parents. They told me merry this man. And I still have no voice in it, no matter how much debate competition I won, I won't win this because it’s no competition, purely dictating. It's for the best and he's a good man. We get married a year later. In his house back yard with a thousand guest. Besides my best friend as my maid of honor, my Olympic team that consist of ten people, my coach, and two coach assistant, my specialize doctor who treated me, and my eight teammate debate club friend that I know well enough to invite, it's nothing compared to his, his family or my family acquaintance. What can I say, I’m a person of myself, in my twenty-seven years I live, no other close friend I want to invite in my unimportant wedding. Can't say I’m happy to get married, but I don’t hate it either. He's a good man and I can do the same. He needs to get married to get his grandparents company and his parent is close friend to mine. Besides, I’m in my prime age to marry. I’m well mannered, independent, and have as much money as he is so he doesn’t need to worry I took all his wealth.

Until two year later when I got my first relapse after three hurt-less happy life. Just when I thought the disease gave up on me, it came back. What a bitch. We were having a gala that night, celebrating second company he builds. My body just give up on me after a dance. The problem is, I just finish my dance with his buddy I’ve been friend with when I told him to give me one more dance with him after he asked me. Media caught it. They all thought I’m having an affair and make a scene when my husband caught me. It gets worse when no one know what to do and took me to wrong hospital. I stay paralyzed and untreated right until the gossip reach my best friend, she's in other country, she called my doctor. He practices in different hospital, luckily, I paid him well and we kind of close and he came to my wedding, so he came as fast as he can. Though I still feel like an eternity cause my body burn like hell and it hurt so much, and I can’t move. 

A week later I got home without my husband there. He's mad cause I didn’t tell him anything and everything. The those feeling change into something else. He relied that we're only partner in this relationship. He's sick of me listening and doing whatever he wants without knowing what I want. I never mad, never cry, never disagree on his decision. Even if it’s wrong and cost him a lot. 

Like when he tells me we were going to move closer to his grandparents’ company, so he won’t need to much time on the road. And I told him that his grandparent company isn’t health, but I didn’t push. What can I say? Graduated in sains not business.

Told you what, I’m right. His grandparents’ company is collapsing, and he work ninety hour a week, only resulted more collapse. He wore himself so I retiree and help him a little in his company. I’m good at finding loophole and opportunity, so that I did. What he doesn’t know is, I’ve been invested my money on this company while I help him. In the end he got back. His company run well, and I resign. I built a home-schooling program and get coaching certificate, can't go too far away from field.

That only the beginning of his bad decision. Lots of bad client picking or investment choosing. But he always come back. Come home and winning like a child getting low grade in class. Again, I pick him up. I help and help and help until he builds his second company. Me, I’m just a night talker and helper of decision making, a nice, good wave that coach high school student while making multi million from good investment.

That time when I wake up from relapse. He knows everything. He knows I put money on his company, lots of money, and on rival company. He sees me as the good face wave turn into viper. With all the gossips running around. With me helping my husband turn into me stabbing him. 

"I know we don’t love each other the way husband and wave should be. Doesn’t mean we weren’t respect each other. I respect you and I care for you and I thought that the feelings mutual. I was wrong. Big wrong. They're right, nobody's perfect. Everyone has skeleton in their closet they try to hide, and I’m okay with that. I’m no saint, I have my sins. But you what hurt most, I never thought you capable on stabbing me behind my back, cheating on me, taking my company, controlling all my life with your sweet talk. I’m honest and open with you. I just want this marriage to work and I was happy. Verry happy until I realize my wave only want to take everything, I’ve been fighting for my whole life then leaving me cold."

He said it calmly. He used to have emotion pouring his eyes. When has he said it, his eyes flat? Nothing left here. Not even when I told him the truth. Nothing change when I told him I did that to help him, I never want anything from him, and I didn’t cheat on him, I never had much friend and his buddy is good to me like he is. I like both and I respect them. But that's not enough. Apparently caring for each other not enough to hold relationship.

The divorce not going smoothly. Media talk, but we didn’t go to court. I told my lawyer to give him everything I can to give. I’m the bad guy. But I didn’t take any think from him. I let go off my connection with him the day he chooses to trust media than his own wave. I know I didn’t live him the way I should be, but his feeling mutual, I do care of him. He just couldn’t see it and I couldn’t be sweeter just like any other woman.

I lost lots money; I left the house. I left the program I build, left my jobs as a coach. The job id enjoys so much. I left with two little bums in my stomach. Didn’t know I can get pregnant. My disease usually prevents to get pregnant. I had lots of miscarriage in the past. That’s why I’m used to having my heart broken. But never know that my pregnancies could go into seventeen weeks without complication. 

I was debating with myself whether to tell him or not. We're only divorce for two months and I don’t want to him to think worse of me. Deciding to leave and live near the best friend and her husband. They live in small town with great art program in the community. 

For the past five months of pregnancies is hard. Not just hard, its nightmare. The babies strong but I’m not. Lots of relapse and drugs and when the baby finally born, I was hospitalized for two months. It’s been hard and even harder with twins. But I survived. We survived. We live.

While I was hospitalized, my ex-husband came looking for me. He never gets hold on me. In this small town, everyone knows everyone. They knew me from media and the used to hate me. But they love my best friend, so they love me eventually. Knowing my real story, they understand. Life is hard, they make it easier. The community is very open and helped a lot. So, when my ex looking for me, they took pity one us, me, and him. They see us as the victim of media.

A month later he came back again and found me with my baby. I tell him they're his. I know because I only had sex with him. I don’t even contact his buddy anymore. Turn out he just want to apologize for his behavior. He wants me back but we both know we won’t love each other. So, he goes back to the big city after asking me to live with him again because we had babies and he want to be together with them. I just don’t feel it. I’m done doing whatever people told me to do. I like live in small town and I’m happy. Working as an artist in new community. Knitting, crocheting, sewing, painting, sculpting, doing all new art I haven’t done before. With my baby and my disease that have been came on and off more after I gave birth. Finally, I found myself. After lots of struggle, lost and found, ups and down, I know I’d like to try my new life and again living my live fullest. After all, that’s all I can do

[mostlysignssomeportents]

#1yrago We know how to fix homelessness, we just won't do it

The largest, wealthiest cities in America are filling up with tent cities -- especially on the west coast, where East Coast style right-to-shelter laws are rare -- and if the spectacle of human misery doesn't alarm you, perhaps you should be thinking about communicable disease epidemics.

It's actually not that hard to deal with homelessness. The evidence is well-established: homeless families should be given heavy rent subsidies through housing vouchers; long-term homeless individuals with mental health and substance problems should be given unconditional housing ("Housing First").

The problem is: where does the housing come from?

People who own homes have seen the value of their housing skyrocket -- even as other long-term forms of security like pensions have withered -- so they are apt to be totally bound up in the retention of their property values, seeing them as both a source of wealth and their only real buffer against a desperate old age of neglect and even homelessness.

In California, this is exacerbated by the state's ban on market-rate property-tax increases, meaning that the value of your home goes up and up but your taxes remain nearly flat.

Thus the epidemic of NIMBYism, with neighborhood associations blocking the construction of new multi-family dwellings, and violently opposing any kind of subsidized housing for homeless people as a blight on their neighborhood.

Local mistrust of ambitious development projects is also founded on a long history of developer misconduct -- no language on Earth contains the phrase "as beneficent as a real-estate developer" -- from gentrification to strong-arm evictions and worse. And since property values are so high, anyone displaced from a neighborhood by rising costs can't find any other comparable neighborhoods to buy in -- if you're lucky enough to own a house, that's where you're stuck, until your kids liquidate it to pay for your senior care and use any remainder to pay down their student debts.

Add to all this the corporate world's refusal to pay tax (abetted by the Trump administration and financial secrecy havens in the US and offshore). It's not just federal taxes that are being starved by corporate tax-evasion, but local coffers as well. When cities try to remedy this, they're met with all-out war from corporate America (see, for example, Amazon's high-profile gangland-style execution of a Seattle law that would have taxed the company to help alleviate Seattle's homelessness epidemic).

That's how we've ended up deadlocked: inequality, tax breaks for the rich, massive corporate power, the destruction of pension benefits -- oh, and racism. Because homelessness is, to a first approximation, a synonym for "not white."

https://boingboing.net/2018/06/21/prop-13.html

[itsswimmingtragedycollection]

Netflix’s ‘You’ or ‘Why (young) people need to read more books’

First of all. the obsessed stalker plot is overdone. I mean Misery, Sleeping with the enemy, Fatal attraction, Secret window, The vanishing?? They’re suing. And despite this unimaginative plot, You is being sold as some kind of groundbreaking, fresh, modern take on the Stalker ™, so I guess it’s no wonder only teenagers can buy into that load of bs. Don’t get me wrong, a boring outline, doesn’t necessarily mean a boring story. Consider heist movies for a second. They are all the same, a group of people use their unique skills to pull off a never-been-done-before job, and get away with it. Regardless of whether it’s your cup of tea or not, different approaches, fresh perspective, suspense build up, comedy, action, character development can make this trope interesting over and over again. Unfortunately, You seems to have missed this memo since all of its characters, situations and outcomes have been done, in the same manner, a million times before. This is probably because the entertainment industry is big on recycling. As soon as a new generation of people, who are too young to have seen the classics of the past, matures enough to actually enjoy them, we are flooded with remakes  of this and that. Easy money. But, you know what? Being boring and unimaginative isn’t a crime nor does it do any real damage. The actual problem with You is the message it sends. Or better yet, doesn’t send. Not only do we see Joe humanized to the point where he might just be in the right, the show failed to condemn his actions at any single point. And if we take into account that their main audience are young people,it becomes worse. By a lot. As much as the term ‘young and impressionable’ is a cliche, it’s true. If you showed Joe Goldberg to a thirty year old, aka someone with a clear sense of self, firmly set values and moral compass, they wouldn’t face the dilemma of ‘Shit! Maybe he has a point!’ and ‘Damn lock him up and throw away the key!’. Like, for example, an eighteen year old would. At the same time, the vast majority of events that unfold in the season are presented through Joe’s eyes. Therefore, it’s reasonable to assume we don’t get an objective perspective on anything. Or anyone. Which is a fairly weird choice if the aim is to show how easy it is to sympathize with a psycho given the fact that we don’t usually experience those type of people through the inner workings of their minds, but through their actions. But, that alone didn’t have to be a deal-breaker, if we had something to compare his impressions to, for good measure. Contrast is a powerful tool and its proper usage is what accentuates the main message in a movie/tv show. But who tf is Joe’s contrast. Peach? She’s about the same as he is, except for the fact that her idea of ‘helping’ Beck is using her wealth and influence in hopes she will stay by her side forever, and Joe’s is to essentially bend her to his will. Beck? I don’t think so. The only striking difference between them is how she doesn’t fit in anywhere, not her first job, not her second job, not with her friends, not with her family, not in her apartment, while Joe seems to fit in anywhere you throw him. Probably stems from the fact that Beck feels like a fraud while Joe feels everyone but him is a fraud (also part of the reason why we found the characters boring or fake, since he described them to us). His past? If anything it justifies his present actions. Paco? Joe’s mini-me? His purpose is basically to paint a picture of how an abused child grows up, so we’d find it even harder to dislike Joe. Even more so since Joe tries so hard to make life easier for him and eventually kills Paco’s abuser, which, in retrospect, justifies what he did to Mr. Mooney. Ethan? The most annoying mash up of every hipster stereotype you can think of? Barely even worth a mention. Honestly it would have been quite interesting to see the differences between how he experiences the world vs how it really is. Or maybe point out some red flags that nice-guy-by-day-murderer-by-night archetype displays, so we can spot them out. And it would also help get the point the show claims to make across. Instead, what happened was, people liked him and hated everyone else, and the show producers, writers and actors acted as if they pulled some grand prank.  ‘HaHaHa joke’s on you, even though we made him completely relatable,good-intended, smart, understandable and likable and all those other people stupid, shallow, boring and mean, he’s the shithead and you all fell for it!’ Kinda like when a three year old covers his eyes and thinks no one can see him.   I mean, the only time his portrait of Beck is questioned is when she pours her heart out to Dr Nicky and we get a glimpse of what is actually going on with her. But by that time, there’s no escaping this diluted, fantasy, basic white girl with daddy issues, attention thirsty, cheating whore, promiscuous fraud Joe’s been showing down our throats. Not only that, but up to that point, his conclusions were, one way or the other, confirmed. He didn’t like Benji, Benji turned out to be a prick. He had doubts about Peach, Peach turned out to be obsessed with Beck. He said Beck craves attention, what do you know, she has no curtains in a first floor New York apartment she can’t even afford. He says he knows what’s best for her, she becomes happier and more fulfilled when he takes over her life, until he kills, that is. The viewers don’t side with him because they really, really, actively want to, they side with him because it’s in the structure of the story. Which is reflected in the ‘Ozma of Oz’ by the way. That’s the first book of the series where Dorothy doesn’t crave Kansas anymore and Oz becomes what she wants. Much like the whole world of You is Joe’s fiction, and we are invited to abandon this world, where psychos are not desirable. Similarly, Peach and Joe both have a thing for the Oz books, specifically ‘Ozma of Oz’,they even get into a bit of a conflict over it, meaning they both want their ‘Oz’ to win. Also, another detail I consider important to the plot, is that Peach is a Salinger. Obviously not a coincidence. Salinger is known for his ‘Catcher in the Rye’ and controversial life. But mostly ‘Catcher in the Rye.’ That book is crowned *the* coming of age book, emphasizing how societies high expectations of young people and no consideration of each person as an individual put too much pressure on them that eventually leads to mental disorders. Basically, how the world ruins innocence. But on the other hand, and more interestingly, the most famous criticism calls it ‘a fictional hall or mirrors in which his own self was replicated and congratulated for its brilliance, charm and integrity over and over again.’ Doesn’t that sound familial? Isn’t every character in You just a version of Joe? Paco is a young Joe, Peach is a rich, female Joe with pedigree, Benji is a brute, rich, stupid Joe, Mr. Mooney is what Joe could have become, Dr Nicky pries into people’s lives and abuses his power (sleeping with a patient), same as Joe. Even Beck. She’s your average Joe, not taken to the extreme. And on top of that, he is congratulated for his charm, brilliance and integrity throughout the season, hence why the audiences like him over everyone else. As interesting as that may be, You asks the questions no one needs asked. And gives the wrong answer. Under which circumstances are psychos likable? How easy is it to identify with one? Can sick obsession look desirable? You says yes to all of that. And it says it to teens and preteens who are already being told that boys hit girls when they like them, so why tf not sell them on hot and sexy murderous stalkers as something to lust over? And them blame them for giving in and not their poor storytelling. Encourage your local teenagers to be better than that. See, shows like You, only thrive because they are well accepted. If young people read more books, watched more old and older movies, took more interest in understanding things in depth instead of taking them at face value, we wouldn’t have to even have the conversation ‘Why being attracted to Joe Goldberg is wrong.’ If more young people knew how may bigger, better things exist, a watered down, bland story like this wouldn’t stand a chance. And most certainly couldn’t get away with calling itself fresh, new, brilliant and provocative. My lit professor used to say ‘Every story has been already told.’ We change the names, the places, adapt it to our time, but in essence, all the love stories, the tragedies and everything else in between, have been written. Basically, everything ‘new’ draws its inspiration from somewhere, it doesn’t come from thin air. With that in mind, the more you see, read and hear, the wider your grasp on things becomes, and the easier it is to smell the bs. Which Netflix in general is full of.

[alexsmitposts]

In Indonesian Borneo: Humiliate Native People, then Loot their Land You will never read about it, but Dayak people, the “First Nation” of the enormous island of Borneo, are broken, robbed and brainwashed. “Unity in diversity” it says; the motto of Indonesia. But it could be argued that the opposite is true. There is very little unity, and less and less diversity, as the country is controlled from Jakarta, an enormous, overpopulated stinky and sinking megapolis which is located on the island of Java. Jakarta does not want to allow any dissent. For half a century it has made sure that everyone on this huge and unfortunate archipelago thinks the same, while desiring no improvement. Here, everyone is religious, everyone anti-Communist and fanatically pro-capitalist. The result is: the country collapsed, a long time ago, but ‘no one noticed’. While the Western media is paid ‘not to notice’. “It is a modern-time colonialism”, I heard thousands of times. Java is perceived by many who are living on those proverbial thousands of islands (the Indonesian archipelago has over 17 thousand isles which are spread over a great area), as a colonialist, aggressive and morally corrupt entity. No wonder: after independence from Netherlands, the country was formed, generally, along the old colonial boundaries. During the era of the progressive anti-imperialist President Ahmed Sukarno, Indonesia was at least a co-founder of the Non-aligned Movement. It nationalized its natural resources, while building an enlightened socialist motherland. That did not last very long. Following the West-sponsored brutal military coup of 1965, socialism was destroyed, Communists and atheists murdered, and the US-style neo-colonialist rule managed to smash all hopes for a better future. Ever since, most of the islands have been run as colonies: pillaged, and oppressed. The ‘transmigration’ policy has been turning local people into a minority, at least in the various ‘strategic’ areas. Those have literally been flooded with state-sponsored immigrants from Java, Southern Sumatra, and other densely-populated Sunni Muslim parts of the country. Modern-day Indonesia has lived through three cruel genocides in its modern history: one triggered during and after the fascist coup (1965/66), then one that was perpetrated in (formerly) occupied East Timor, and the one, on-going one, in the conquered West Papua. But that is not all: terrible inter-ethnic and inter-religious conflicts have been shaking Indonesia for decades: from Aceh to Sulawesi, Ambon, Kalimantan (Borneo), to name just a few. Anti-Chinese pogroms have been common for centuries. If there was to be a referendum, most of the islands, including the tourist island of Bali, would opt for independence. But that is a hushed fact, as it would never be allowed. The unproductive and depressingly over-populated island of Java virtually lives off the plundering of the riches of the entire archipelago. Indonesia’s ‘wealth’ mainly comes from commodities; from unbridled plundering of the outer islands. That of course is true about one of the biggest booty – the enormous Kalimantan. Many of the filthy rich Javanese families are connected to the plunder. Their wealth comes directly from destruction of the archipelago. The five-star hotels surrounded by Jakarta’s slums, malls with overpriced European brand names, and tasteless villas in gated communities, are built on blood and robbery. *** The island of Borneo is the third largest island on earth, after Greenland and Papua. It is shared by Indonesia (where it is known as Kalimantan), and also by Malaysia and Brunei Darussalam. And it has, or more precisely, it used to count on all kinds of imaginable treasures, from oil to coal, gold, uranium and timber. It also used to be one of the most pristine and stunning parts of the world, covered by plush native forests, which grew all along the mighty and clean tropical waterways. Borneo’s native people, the Dayaks, used to live in true symbiosis with nature. Whatever their internal problems were, they never tried to conquer other islands. But this self-contained paradise had been brutally penetrated and eventually destroyed; first by the Dutch colonialists, and later by the legendary Javanese greed united with Western multi-national companies. Today, Borneo, or at least its Indonesian part, is almost entirely ruined. Most of its forests have been cut down, giving way to the endless and toxic oil palm plantations. Rivers where gold is being mined both legally and illegally, are poisoned by mercury, while entire mountains are levelled by local and foreign mining companies. Coal mines are of tremendous proportions, and expanding. The wisdom of the local people is still alive, but only deep in what is left of the native forests. Most of the ‘modern-day’ Dayak people have been cannily incorporated by the regime into the system which thrives on plundering of the land and of all that nature holds above and below the surface. *** Mr. Krisusandi, the chief of “Dayakology Institute” located in the city of Pontianak, West Kalimantan, does not hide his frustration, when he sits across the table from us, in his office: “West Kalimantan has more than 150 ethnic groups of Dayaks. Each has its own language and culture… and that’s only in the area of West Kalimantan! To call them all by the same name – Dayak – is derogatory, inaccurate.” “Local people used to inhabit some of the richest lands on earth, in terms of natural resources,” I suggest. Mr. Krisusandi agrees: “Precisely. And this is precisely the curse; the key to understanding why, compared to other indigenous societies, the oppression of Dayaks is the worst.” “During Suharto’s ‘New Order’, the regime developed stigmas and stereotypes, belittling and humiliating Dayaks; like that they are ‘backward’, ‘primitive’ and ‘uncivilized’. The military, the fascists, got used to judging Dayaks as forest dwellers and destroyers. The result: Dayak society got discriminated against, losing its culture, independence, and even began feeling shame for being what it is.” “Because of that shame, Dayaks have been lulled into converting to Islam, or to Christianity. And after that, they were not Dayaks, anymore! Consequently, they were forced to accept the centralized education system, which has been totally ignoring the local knowledge.” That was, of course, not all. The so-called ‘New Order’ of Suharto’s pro-Western cronies and collaborators, was determined to liquidate all left-wing beliefs. That’s what it was ordered to do by Washington. And Indonesian culture before 1965 was at least ‘communitarian’, if not out rightly Communist. The cultures of Dayak people were no exception. Mr. Krisusandi confirmed, readily: “’New Order’ believed that it had hegemony on ‘modernization’. And they saw even traditional ‘longhouses’ as something ‘Communist’. They used to call them ‘filthy’, or even ‘fire hazards’. The regime was totally anti-Communist, and it branded all Dayaks as ‘Communists’. Actually, it went to such an absurd extreme that each and every person who refused to abandon his or her longhouse and traditional way of living, was branded as a Communist.” To be a ‘Communist’ was, for decades, synonymous with the highest crime, punishable by death. “It was terrible suffering to be a Dayak then, and in many ways, it still is now. On top of it, all this was accompanied by the theft of land.” “As I mentioned before, most of the Dayaks were forcibly converted to Islam, or Christianized. For some, it was the only way how to get ahead. Those who accepted Islam were registered as ‘Malays’, and as a ‘reward’, some were even allowed to became government officials.” *** Julia, a female activist and researcher from West Kalimantan, now a PhD student at Bonn University in Germany, gave a similar testimony as Mr. Krisusandi’s: “The marginalization and stigmatization of Dayak people in West Kalimantan during the New Order era occurred in a structured and in a systematic way. For example, at the beginning of the New Order period, there was a massive demolition of longhouses, Dayak traditional settlements, in West Kalimantan. Only few survived, and those that remained were only in the inland areas, such as Kapuas Hulu. Infrastructure facilities (mainly roads) to access Dayak settlements in remote areas were also very far behind, with the consequences such as the lack of access to education, health services, etc. The social stigma was created: Dayaks were perceived as backward, stupid, and primitive. Most of Dayak people have been feeling embarrassed to be associated with their Dayak identity. There were even attempts made to rename “Dayaks”, calling them “Daya”.” Ms. Fidelia, a retired schoolteacher, who lives in Singkawang, West Kalimantan: “Based on my experience as a primary school teacher during the 1980s, I felt that compared to the other students, my Dayak pupils found it relatively more difficult to grasp knowledge. Most of the Dayaks live in the interior of Borneo. For more than three decades, Suharto’s government made the conditions of the rural Kalimantan very tough; the interior of the island remained underdeveloped and very hard to access. Because of this isolation, people have been experiencing lack of basic services and facilities, such as education.” Misery in rural Kalimantan is widespread. Enormous palm oil plantations turned huge areas into monocultures. Local people who stayed, are now forced to basically import everything from outside. Life has become extremely expensive. Thousands of villages are literally surrounded, choking by commercial entities. The traditional, natural way of life is totally ruined. *** To obtain any substantial information in the cities and villages of Kalimantan, is almost impossible. That is why the tragedy of this plundered island is almost ‘undocumented’. People are scared to talk, or they do not comprehend their own conditions and their position in the Indonesian and global context. In Banjarmasin, Palangkaraya, Pontianak and in other urban and rural areas of Kalimantan, people who live in absolute destitute, are refusing to even admit that they are poor. The inhabitants of filthy and hopeless slums lacking almost all basic services, consider their life ‘normal’, and most of them describe their state as ‘pasrah’, which means ‘abandoning, surrendering their lives to fate and God’. Just as in the rest of Indonesia, oppressive forms of religion (mainly Saudi-style Wahhabi Sunni Islam) have already managed to take full control over the population. Under such conditions, no rebellion is possible. This is of course a brilliant arrangement for savage capitalism and for the bunch of corrupt captains of the Indonesian regime. Since 1965, the logic of pro-Western rulers was simple and effective: ‘Do not allow the arts, philosophy and creativity to ‘pollute’ people’s minds. Kill everything socialist and communist. Make Indonesian citizens simple, pious, uniformed, and uninformed. Smash everyone who is different. Native people in the resource-rich parts of the archipelago (such as Kalimantan) were the most affected. They have been treated precisely as the South Americans were treated by their Spanish or Portuguese colonialist masters and tormentors: all the resources have been stolen, while local beliefs and languages smashed. Simultaneously, totally foreign religious concepts have been pushed down their throats. Those who were willing to collaborate, were given important government and academic positions, ridiculous titles, and at least some cut from the loot. The price was terrible: the destruction of both land and the original population. The ‘primitive people of the forest’ were actually much more advanced than their conquerors. They knew how to live with their nature, their environment. Before colonialism, rivers and forests, mountains and villages were intact and thriving. The destruction of local culture led to the collapse of the environment, and in the case of Borneo, of the entire island. *** DEVK2 I am making a long documentary film here: about this damaged culture, and about the whole island that used to be much closer to ‘paradise’, than any other place on Earth. As I film, in all the corners of Borneo, I feel terrified. What I see is indescribable. I have to use visuals, images, to prove the point. Words are not enough. It often feels that the destruction is unreal; that all this is just a nightmare, that I will wake up, that the horror will go away. But it is real; nothing goes away. People, their greed, are capable of ruining anything, even the most stunning places on our planet. Mr. Krisusandi speaks about his Institute of Dayakology with pride: “We established it, in order to return dignity to our people.” Then he recalls the terrible on-going struggle: “In the beginning, when the destruction of the longhouses began, there was a fight. But the government was canny; it introduced so-called logging concessions. It also accelerated trans-migration from several over-populated parts of Indonesia, predominantly from Java. In the name of ‘development’, government took over all land, and sold it to companies that began planting palm oil, or introducing indiscriminate mining. Dayaks could do nothing. They became powerless; coolies on their own land.” “During the so-called ‘reform period’, after Suharto stepped down, the situation marginally improved; but by then, the Dayaks had almost no intellectuals. And those who were ‘educated’ during ‘New Order’, had typical ‘developmentalist’ mindsets. They sold out; they even began oppressing their own people.” A prominent educator from West Kalimantan, who did not want to be identified out of fear of losing his job, clarified: “On my island, being so-called educated could lead to something negative. A Dayak person who goes through the formal Indonesian education system, could and usually would end up following only his or her own mercantile interests, and consequently do harm to both community and nature.” What he meant is that the person often chooses to work for the companies or the government, that are intensively ruining the Borneo island, while further indoctrinating and disempowering local population. While deep in Borneo, one year ago, we visited a longhouse, where we were told by Mr. Paulus, the elder in a traditional Bali Gundi longhouse in the Putusibau area: “People who go to school; they get smarter and cannier and then they work for the government and companies, they forget to help their villages and hometowns. As long as they get money they do not care anymore.” Recently, President Jokowi decided to at least give some land back to the Dayak people. It was a symbolic gesture, but practically, nothing changed, and almost nothing was returned to the native people. As confirmed by Mr. Krisusandi: “It is now actually almost impossible to give anything back to the people. West Kalimantan consists of roughly 12 million hectares of land. Concessions, those for palm oil, mining and other commercial activities, were already given 13 million hectares. With national parks, a total of 16 million hectares is already committed. So, just calculate: it is 4 million hectares more than total area of West Kalimantan!” I think about those once mighty and pure rivers, endless tropical forests, deep and ancient cultures of local people. I close my eyes, trying to imagine hundreds of already vanished species of fauna and flora. Then, I imagine the huge, repulsive, kitschy dwellings of local ‘elites’, in Jakarta and Surabaya. I imagine European and North American cities built from the loot of places such as Kalimantan. “Will Dayak people fight for their rights?” I asked. “Maybe the next generation will,” comes the hesitant reply. “But not this one. Definitely not this one.” In Palangkaraya city, we spoke to one of the most prominent Dayaks, an author J.J. Kusni, a man who spent long years in France, but finally returned to his native land. I filmed his long, passionate testimony, in which he expressed sadness, even outrage over the state into which the Dayak people were reduced. “Philosophically, a Dayak is a fighter,” he said. But the spirit of Dayak people was obviously smashed. Most of them have become victims, while others were convinced to convert themselves into collaborators. The entire Indonesian part of the Island of Borneo is now burned down, poisoned and logged out. There are few ‘protected parks’, but even in the middle of them, commercial activities are now detectable. Entire original cultures here are humiliated. People are confused. Most of them gave up, accepted, resigned. Destruction and thorough ruin are being propagated as ‘progress’, by the Indonesian regime. Brainwashing is passed as ‘education’. “Through the national and even village government structures established by Suharto, everything in Kalimantan became “Javanized”,” explained J.J. Kusni. “So, what are the Dayak people doing?” I asked. “They are crying,” he replied curtly.

[rytteralbright98-blog]

Does Shining Silver Haze Contains Narcotic Qualities Or Not

Premium Hemp Oil Reviews

The result of the urine test had been predetermined. Robert had informed his old parole officer than he was a legally registered cancer patient being successfully treated with concentrated cannabis oil. You would think that excess pot would function least of your worries, but it surely isn't. More pot, more problems! Cali only enables 8ozs. of dried cannabidiol. Depending at your strain, you may produce thrice that perhaps more. Just like severe lottery winner sometimes finds misery while wealth, feasible be tempted with the "dark element." What will you use the accumulation of? I don't know, good-luck with specific. Fat assists your muscles and joints work very easily. Good sources are flaxseed and its oil; walnuts; oily fish such as salmon, mackerel, and tuna; and Hemp Legal. Raw nuts, olive oil, and avocados are also another stylish rich involving nutritious and healthy dietary fats. Look closely at resulting in you buy and avoid from hydrogenated fats. Mike: Yeah. I like the fact that is normally low through the glycemic index, although that varies a ton based in regards to the manufacturer. We have anywhere from 13 to 35. Lots of variation there and you should consider on where comes everything from. In exploring how quit smoking weed, you always be understand why you become addicted to it. Marijuana is purchased a Hemp Plant called cannabis sativa. Cannabis sativa contains a property that may cause the smoker to become unconscious. In marijuana, day spa san francisco than 400 chemicals. The psychoactive property in marijuana is THC. The results of THC (delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol) in the smoker trust a regarding factors including type of cannabis, soil, weather and the harvest work-time. Nowadays, the pots are made up of cannabis plant that is known for a high regarding THC. In fact, the weeds cultivated today have higher toxic content compared to the pot historically. The THC is the main thing that will make the person to grow into addicted towards weed. Medical Cannabis: This is great for controlling the pain, but it doesn't really deal with why you're getting understand it. There is also the legal issue of it depending happens ?. In the United States, you may not be so lucky to get this individuals have US Authorities views it as illegal, however in Canada, can probably receive this sort of treatment. Hemp may be the only renewable natural resource that can produce jobs while providing a lot of the world's paper, textile, transportation, industrial, and home energy needs. While creating jobs, hemp could reduce pollution, reduce fossil fuel usage (which is urgently important), rebuild the soil, and clean atmosphere. You discover numerous fabrics available, and any one has special benefits. As the safety measure, remember to double check the manufacturer labels to positive that perform not have got harmful substances.

[pitts19stout-blog]

Octomom's Marijuana Use: Does Hard Times Mean High Times For Mom Of 14?

Sera Relief Reviews Keeping tabs on what exactly we are eating is very important in our overall wellbeing. We should ban processed food from your diet and go for natural diet items. Organic extracts in order to consumed on a regular base. Consume all fertilizer colors possible in a structured manner. William Randolph Hearst (Citizen Kane) as well as the Hearst Paper Manufacturing Division of Kimberly Clark owned vast acreage of timberlands. The Hearst Company supplied most paper products. Patty Hearst's grandfather, a destroyer of nature for their own personal profit, stood shed billions because of hemp. Hemp grows like a weed. Unlike almost just about any crop, hemp grows afraid any climates and soil conditions, no chemicals must be present. A bit of fertilizer, sun, and water helps make it thrive. Along with the Hemp Plant doesn't have toxic acids to make paper like trees must have. A stunning new innovation in lip color, OCC Lip Tar combines the longevity to a lipstick an issue ease of application of gloss. Continues slick and moist, then dries in order to a featherweight satin quit!! A simple, elegant formula that contains Hemp Legal, Vitamin e antioxidant and an unprecedented power of long-wearing color pigments. As for protein, busting still possess the misconception that need much different protein compared to what they really perform. If you think about mother's milk, which only contains particular.5 - 2.5 % protein perhaps you're able to relax a bit about your protein consumption. Growing children and athletes need one of the most protein. There's way more protein in dark leafy greens than most people realize. Tahini, almond butter, almonds and sunflower seeds are also all quick and easy protein sources. You would think that excess pot would be the least of the worries, but it isn't. More pot, more problems! Cali only facilitates 8ozs. of dried cannabidiol. Depending regarding your strain, most likely produce 3x that a lot more. Just like a direct lottery winner sometimes finds misery whilst wealth, feasible be tempted with the "dark wall." What will you do with the overabundance? I don't know, good-luck with that you. Carpet signifies wall-to-wall installed goods. Carpet is used to be cover unattractive floors, to melt a room and produce warmth. It typically used in bedrooms although it can be used throughout your own home. Carpet creates a neutral floor surface, flowing after a room.

[boozeforblues]

Does It Really Matter To The Dead Who Is Shoveling The Dirt Upon Their Corpses?

Big heart but a brain that won't quite work As advertised, what I call despondency you call a quirk We weren't built the same, lack of quality control Left wondering if what I'm left with can still be called a soul Ripped apart from inside to out, claiming the mantle of misunderstood Displaying more emotion than you ever could Reminding myself it's not a competition Convincing myself that my every decision Carries the weight of a thousand pounds Resting my ear on the wall listening for the faintest sounds Of hope trickling through the cracks in the door Feigning wealth for the benefit of the poor They say richness comes from those you let close Sitting in the corner injecting dose after dose Of the chemicals my brain can't produce naturally Foaming at the mouth thinking that you have to see The spectacle I've made of myself, the old me is back In full force, permanent vacation but I forgot to pack Drowning in my vices, bad habits always bubble to the surface Walking through this life pretending I have a purpose Fresh breath of putrid air, welcome to the new world order Amassing troops at every last one of your borders Weakness disguised as respect, expect me to finish last And I can't quite trudge through the present, let alone the past Devising new methods of self-flagellation, forever seeking punishment Pointing out that of everyone here, none have spent The time and effort that I've seemingly wasted Leave me to cook just a while longer, a turkey who's not quite basted Fowl as ever, living life like I'm decent, I've fooled the whole crowd Putting one parent to shame and making the other proud Fuck a legacy, I'm here for unbridled destruction A sociopath convincing others I know how to function Craving the attention I know isn't coming Misery is the song of choice and I'm left humming Along, the hurt process is as drawn out as ever Making up, putting on the veneer of being clever Serving an ego that's outgrown the id Life's the worst auction and I've put in my bid Finding my way back to these fruitful wells of sadness They've never run dry, an unhappiness that's manifested as madness Take the floor, institute a zero tolerance policy Forgetting what it feels like to operate with honesty The human condition becomes increasingly foreign Lips attached to my flask like my name was Lauren Forgetting myself to mitigate the myriad of problems Lying to myself as if the impending autumn Is going to alleviate the symptoms of a life spent in disrepute I was never a factor, right along I can scoot Until I reach the water's edge, comfort me with never ending depth Comparing myself to lesser people, I broke down and wept For this heart can't sustain its own irregular beat I can't stand the kitchen, so motherfuck the heat Playing along to the tune of my own ruin If you've got the inclination, please do drop a clue in…

[snarktheater]

Ready Player One — Level Three (Chapters 32-33)

After our brief foray into a heist story that tied itself up really neatly and really fast, Wade now has a bunch of stolen data and a foolproof plan to…get past IOI’s defense on Castle Anorak and get to the Third Gate.

Because, you know. Real-life mortal danger is just not interesting enough stakes for the book. We gotta go back to the video game contest. That’s what matters.

We left Wade when he was setting up a meeting with the other three main characters of this book, and he explains to them everything that happened to him since he went dark. And by “explains” I mean of course he makes himself sound much better than he was.

“How does a lowly indent get access to secret Sixer dossier files and company memos?” I turned to face her. “Indents have limited access to the company intranet via their hab-unit entertainment system, from behind the IOI firewall. From there, I was able to use a series of back doors and system exploits left by the original programmers to tunnel through the network and hack directly into the Sixers' private database.” Shoto looked at me in awe. “You did that? All by yourself?” “That is correct, sir.”

You know, all by himself, with information he bought and doing nothing but follow instructions. Same difference, I assume.

But that’s apparently enough for the others. They thank him for the warnings, although Artemis is also angry that he read her file—as she should be, since that information was really private and also it did not help one bit. Wade does not experience a shred of regret, though.

So, what is the plan, you ask? Well, keep asking, because instead of telling them, Wade just moves on to taking it for granted that they will make it past the Sixers and straight to how to open the Third Gate. By which I mean the gate is inscribed with a reference to Schoolhouse Rock! that the Sixers missed and our protagonist immediately catch because they’re oh-so-awesome. Since “showing the puzzle and immediately giving the solution” has been the book’s modus operandi from the start…I guess at least this time it didn’t rely on a random epiphany and the characters really showed off that they knew their stuff.

I will draw attention to this, from Wade’s recap of what IOI has tried:

“They try every asinine thing you can imagine,” I said. […] “Then they get hung up on reciting First Corinthians 13:13, a Bible verse that contains the words ‘charity, hope, and faith.’ Apparently, ‘charity, hope, and faith’ are also the names of three martyred Catholic saints. The Sixers have been trying to attach some significance to that for the past few days.” “Morons,” Aech said. “Halliday was an atheist.”

Which is kind of baffling to me. I mean…what, atheists can’t use religious symbology ever? Especially Christian symbolism, like…Halliday was probably bathed in it his whole life.

With that said…this mostly makes IOI look like idiots. Which I think is the point?

“Dilettantes,” Art3mis said. “It’s their own fault for not knowing all the Schoolhouse Rock! lyrics by heart.”

Sadly, it also makes them very ineffectual as villains. Do you realize how simple it’d be to do a word search across all the lyrics, books and scripts for things featured in the Almanac? At least for a company with the means that IOI has at its disposal?

Well anyway. The song reveals that there needs to be three people to open the Third Gate, which had already been hinted at by the clue Wade found while searching for the key. This also means that, once they open the gate, they’ll have to race to get to the egg first. Because I’m so stressed about which of these assholes win the egg. I mean we don’t even know Aech and Shoto’s goals and I still don’t want them to win.

Of course, there is one missing step in this plan. Wade obviously figured out a way to disable the Sixers' shield during his time at IOI, and they now know how to open the Third Gate, but they still have to actually get from point A to point B through the Sixer forces. What’s Wade’s solution for that? Just contact every gunter in the OASIS and ask them to play meat shield.

“And you really think everyone will just show up and help us fight the Sixers?” [Artemis] said. “Just for the hell of it?” “Yes,” I said. “I do.” Aech nodded. “He’s right. No one wants the Sixers to win the contest. And they definitely don’t want IOI to take control of the OASIS.”

“No one”? Really? I find that dubious. Or rather, I find it dubious that they’d willingly kill their OASIS character on the off-chance it might make the Sixers lose…but make these complete strangers win instead. Complete strangers who, in the case of Artemis and Wade at least, decided to use their new position of fame and fortune by…remaining anonymous, making no actual stand against the Sixers, and holing themselves up in a stronghold and refusing to even talk to people.

But of course, we’re just supposed to accept that the people will like them more, for…some reason. And really, wouldn’t it be great if, say, Aech was actually Sorrento playing both sides? (He’s not. But it’d be a hell of a twist compared to what the twist around Aech’s identity actually is.)

This plan also means IOI will know exactly when they’ll strike, which will put them on high alert. And they need three people with the Crystal Key to make it through, lest you forgot.

“So we should all try extremely hard not to get killed.”

A master strategist you are not, Wade Watts. As usual, the only character with a shred of humanity is Artemis.

“So I hope you’re right about being able to shut [the shield] down.” “Don’t worry.” “Why would I be worried?” Art3mis snapped. “Maybe you’ve forgotten, but I’m homeless and on the run for my life right now!”

Artemis, you can’t show genuine emotion in this book! That’ll just make Wade look even more like he’s not human!

Speaking of Artemis being currently homeless, this is true of three of them (her, Shoto and Wade), which might be kind of a problem to participate in a large-scale assault on an in-game stronghold, followed by who knows what kind of challenge the Third Gate itself will be. Well, don’t worry, we’ve got a near-literal Deus Ex Machine to solve that problem!

Yeah, remember how, early in the book, Wade noticed someone knocking stuff in the Basement and wondering if it was an invisible player? Well, that’s what it was. Specifically it’s Ogden Morrow, who, along with Halliday, has literal god mode turned on in the OASIS.

“In addition to being immortal and invincible, our avatars could go pretty much anywhere and do pretty much anything.”

He’s been spying on them all this time, and he makes himself visible now to offer a hand. Turns out, he and Halliday reconnected shortly before his death, and Halliday asked him to watch over the contest and maintain its integrity. Apparently, everything IOI has done (blocking off multiple critical areas, for instance) did not violate said integrity? But now, he’s offering to get private jets for all four mains to his private home, where they’ll be able to log into the OASIS safely and, you know, be safe from IOI trying to kill them IRL. When I told you the book wasn’t interested in the real-world threat, I wasn’t joking. It just removed what should be the actual conflict in favor of the in-game contest.

No one is even a little suspicious of that, by the way. At all. They just take Morrow’s offer at face value and accept it, with Aech having to pick up Wade and get him to the airport, since even Morrow can’t track Aech down. The fact that the possibility isn’t even brought up, after everything these characters have gone through (and their initial distrust of each other) really bothers me, because I have half-expected Morrow to turn out to be the true villain after all since we first saw him in the book, but…no, he’s fine.

And this is where I pause the review to go back to my earliest posts, and how this book doesn’t care or think critically about the dystopia it created. Because Morrow…you know, isn’t much better than IOI, ultimately. They’re all beneficiaries of capitalism; in other words, their massive wealth depends on the existence of the widespread poverty that Wade has observed and experienced. But Morrow is a cool nerd, and he’s done some cool things like educational games, so he gets a pass, I guess?

Yeah. No. Remember how Artemis wants to solve world hunger if she wins the contest? Morrow could do that right now. Or he could at the very least heavily contribute to that. That he hasn’t should make him a natural villain for the story, or at the very least a morally grey figure—the heroes need his help, but don’t appreciate him. But the book doesn’t care about its setting; it’s a dystopia because dystopias are cool, I guess, not because it’s trying to make a point about them. The book’s real interest is the OASIS, and the real world could just as easily be a utopia and it would change very little.

Except…actually, it does change one thing, by implication. See, if the book doesn’t want to be a dystopia, and only cares about the OASIS, then that means the dystopia probably exists to justify that the OASIS exists and is as popular as it is. In other words: the book itself doesn’t believe that anyone could be this involved in a video game, or fandom, unless they were driven to it by desperation and misery. This one thing means the book has a lower opinion of geek culture than…well, myself, at the very least. I’d even argue it’s lower than the mainstream opinion of geek culture at the moment, considering in the 2010s, culture has been dominated by things like Comic-Con and superhero movie. For a book that’s hailed as being for geek culture, is pretty odd that it can’t seem to imagine that people like things without needing a justification.

And if you think I’m pulling this reading straight out of my ass: it would not invalidate it if I did, because that’s how art criticism works, but in this case, it’s also absolutely in the text and we’ll get back to that in the final post of this review. Stay tuned for that exciting conclusion!

Back to the plot. Wade sends out his message to all gunters, and posts it on “every gunter message board”, because that’s how fandom works, I guess. Word spreads, and the media starts reporting on that and Wade’s allegations towards IOI, and Wade feels petty satisfaction.

By now, Sorrento would know I’d somehow gained access to the Sixers' private database. I wished I could see his face when he learned how I’d done it—that I’d spent an entire week just a few floors below his office.

You know what would be a great twist? If they traced the security footage and the digital footprint that Wade must have left to figure out what his plan is and counter it. But that would mean Wade failed at something due to his own hubris, and that would mean he faces consequences for his flaws, so let’s not even pretend it’s a possibility and just skip to when Aech arrives to pick him up instead.

A heavyset African American girl sat in the RV’s driver seat, clutching the wheel tightly and staring straight ahead. She was about my age, with short, kinky hair and chocolate-colored skin that appeared iridescent in the soft glow of the dashboard indicators.

Well that’s not a problematic description at all. I mean, that’s multiple descriptors with racist connotations. Oh, and don’t forget that Wade and Cline both claim to like bigger girls, yet Aech gets described as “heavyset”. I guess only white girls get to be “Rubenesque”. [Disclaimer: I personally find both to be pretty insulting, but the difference is definitely there.]

He recognizes that this is actually Aech because she smiles like her avatar does. And then, miracle of all miracles, Wade feels an emotion. Namely, betrayal. He gets over it quickly though, because emotions are icky.

Whatever anger or betrayal I felt quickly evaporated. I couldn’t help myself. I started to laugh. There was no meanness in it, and I knew she could tell that, because her shoulders relaxed a bit and she let out a relieved sigh.

So Wade is totally a-okay with Aech being actually a black girl. How progressive of him, I guess. Aech insists on explaining to him why her character is male, because that’s another thing the book believes warrants explaining. As someone who played female characters in online games for at least half of my gaming life, I find that half amusing and half insulting, but let’s be honest, in this case, it’s just that the author thought of this character’s backstory and wanted to infodump all over us, and couldn’t think of a more natural way to do so.

So Aech, real name Helen Harris, was raised by a single mother too. Her mom realized that sexism is a thing, but since most things are done through the OASIS, she could escape it by using a white male avatar, and she taught her daughter to do the same. Also, Helen/Aech is a lesbian, which is completely irrelevant, except that her mom kicked her out as a result and that’s why she now lives in an RV and always stays on the move.

Aside from the confirmation that homophobia is alive and well in the future (beyond the casual brand displayed throughout the book up to this point, which I could have chalked up as the author’s unconscious biases), I will note that Aech’s most remarkable trait—how she avoided discovery by literally everyone, including IOI and Morrow—is a result of homophobic abuse. So I guess she should be thankful for her mom kicking her out, lest she would have been killed by IOI? That’s a good unintentional message right there, book.

As we continued to talk, going through the motions of getting to know each other, I realized that we already did know each other, as well as any two people could. We’d known each other for years, in the most intimate way possible. […] None of that had changed, or could be changed by anything as inconsequential as her gender, or skin color, or sexual orientation.

This is the straightest thing Wade or the author could conclude from this. Look, let me be clear: if a person is closeted to you, you are not intimate with them. You are not close friends. Because if you were, they would trust you enough to come out to you. If they don’t trust you enough to come out, either you’re just not that close, or they actually suspect that your reaction would be bigoted and potentially dangerous, in which case you are absolutely not their friend (or a good person). It is literally that simple.

Yes, I know what the book’s message actually is here. We’re all just human, and these things shouldn’t be obstacles to relating to one another and being friends. The problem is it’s phrase as “these things shouldn’t matter”, which isn’t the same as “these things shouldn’t be obstacles”. Because they do matter. They would matter no matter how the world is, but especially in a sexist, racist, homophobic world, they matter. This is why saying you’re “colorblind” or “don’t see race”, or that people’s sexuality “doesn’t matter to you”, is not actually comforting. Identity, believe it or not, is a part of who the person is; if it doesn’t matter to you, and only, say, their interests do, then you’re not really friends with the person as a whole.

I’m just getting all the rants today, aren’t I?

Well, to be fair, the actual plot is pretty sparse. I mean, nothing happens on the road to the airport, or on the flight to Ogden Morrow’s home (whom the book now calls “Og”, because it’s the name of his avatar and I guess real names aren’t for cool people). Said home is shaped like Rivendell from the Lord of the Rings movies—is that interesting? No, no it’s not. Is it interesting that Artemis and Shoto are already here, but decided not to meet in person until after the contest is over, because why would we want an opportunity for character development? Well, I guess it’s interesting, but only in that it’s bad.

So let’s just move on to Wade getting into his immersion rig, and asking Morrow a fairly random question before he logs back into the OASIS.

“I wanted to ask what it was that ended your friendship with Halliday. […] What happened?”

Well, turns out Halliday was in love with Kira too. I know, shocking, he was in love with the one girl in his nerd group. Although, considering we’ve been told he’d only talk to her in-character as their D&D avatars, I think he was more in love with the idea of her than the real person. But hey, this book is literally making the argument that your in-game avatar is realer than the real you. I mean, Wade reverts to calling Helen “Aech” and referring to her as a man for the rest of the book after this one scene where they meet in person. I shit you not.

Literally nothing prompted this question, by the way. Wade just asked out of the blue. So you can already guess that the information is going to come up soon. Or you can just take my word for it that it will.

“Good luck, Parzival. You’re going to need it.” “What are you going to do?” I asked. “During the fight?” “Sit back and watch, of course!” [Morrow] said. “This looks to be the most epic battle in videogame history.”

Aren’t you gonna…you know, help? Why even introduce a character with godlike powers if he’s going to do nothing with them?

And with that, Wade logs into the OASIS to start the climax, and we get a dramatic chapter break. Because I’m so very scared that Wade might not win the contest. Yeah. Totally.