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"All monsters must die bloody, and by a hero's hands, and soon," he says over brunch.

He doesn't think it's a rude thing to say in front of a monster. There are no rude things to say to monsters, only rude things monsters say.

"Don't worry," she says between bites, "You're one of the good ones."

"But I am still a monster," I do not say. I do not say that I love my claws and teeth, my prehensile shadow and my glowing eyes. That I cannot imagine giving them up even for survival, that to hide my shadow and trim my claws for them makes me feel diminished. In public I cannot say that I do not wish to be human.

They're progressives, this bunch, even if he carries a hero's banner with its proud history and none of them ask him to put it away. They know there are good monsters, monsters who can speak eloquently and hold the fork right, monsters you can be seen with in public. Some of their best friends are monsters.

They do not know the monster who is invited to brunch knows solidarity with the monster who is not. Believes and understands the monster who is not invited more than the human who does the inviting.

"Isn't that a little harsh?" says a third human, and I have not forgotten I am outnumbered. "We have ways of killing monsters without blood now, painlessly. And, of course, a monster should be allowed to live if it never growls."

He has never seen me growl. Yet how loudly and endlessly I will, when I'm out of earshot. He's talking about killing monsters who cannot stoop to civility, about mother and brother and lover who were never able to mute themselves like me, and does he not know how small a child who can only growl is?

"To growl is not to kill," I say, and all heads turn toward me. It is one of those rude things monsters say.

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If anyone wants to know what a leopard seal sounds like 🦷🩸

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Lactose: e-excuse me...

Stomach: hey, what do we have here? Some goddamned lactose!

Small intestine: we don't like lactose here, ya know? You're gatecrashing a very private party!

Large intestine: (pushes him, making him stumble) there's two ways you can leave here... The easy way, or the hard way. What's it gonna be?

Lactose: but I...

Lactase: (deep voice) step back, everyone. (walks up and puts his arm around lactose's shoulders) he's with *me*

Large intestine: lactase?!

Small intestine: b-but you're both...

Lactase: I *said* he's with me. You got a problem with that?

Stomach: (finishes sizing him up) right. Course not. It's cool, lactose. Just don't cause any *problems*, you hear?

Lactose: I-I w-

Lactase: you don't have to answer that, babe. Just keep walking

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Lactose: e-excuse me...

Stomach: hey, what do we have here? Some goddamned lactose!

Small intestine: we don't like lactose here, ya know? You're gatecrashing a very private party!

Large intestine: (pushes him, making him stumble) there's two ways you can leave here... The easy way, or the hard way. What's it gonna be?

Lactose: but I...

Lactase: (deep voice) step back, everyone. (walks up and puts his arm around lactose's shoulders) he's with *me*

Large intestine: lactase?!

Small intestine: b-but you're both...

Lactase: I *said* he's with me. You got a problem with that?

Stomach: (finishes sizing him up) right. Course not. It's cool, lactose. Just don't cause any *problems*, you hear?

Lactose: I-I w-

Lactase: you don't have to answer that, babe. Just keep walking

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Went to Catholic school my whole life and when I was 14 I had to do confirmation classes and since I went to school in a different diocese all the other kids had already done their confirmation and shit and it was weird as hell. I had to commute an hour home and then go to the basement of a church where I argued with the teacher all the time because he didn't actually understand philosophy, basically a protestant, very tragic.

Anyway part of the confirmation class was that I had to go to confession and so I went and I confessed all my sins or whatever but the next day my school also decided we needed to go to confession. So I'm waiting in the line for fuckin ever and then I get to the little confessional and I'm like "forgive me father for I've sinned it's been one day since my last confession" and the priest goes "huh?" And I explained the whole situation to him.

He asks where the hell I live and I tell him and he tells me he actually used to be a parish priest at one of the churches in town, and then he's asking me about priests he used to know and we get to talking about sandwich shops and restaurants and parks and it goes on for 10 minutes or so before we realize there's a whole line behind me so he tells me I don't gotta do anything and I leave.

The kid behind me in line grabs me as I walk past and goes "Dude what the fuck did you do?" And I almost told him what happened but I decided it would be funnier if I didn't so I was like "a lot lol" and he was like "do you gotta do like 10 hail Mary's now or something?" And I said "no it turns out if it's bad enough he just tells you you're going to hell, no contrition no nothing" and this kid was like Uber Christian and I think he felt bad for me forever because afterwards he was way nicer to me

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The Adventures of - Woke Boy? (part 2)

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Youtube is going to make you give up your government information to prove your age

Blow up YouTube's phone and email lines NOW before August 13th!

Well shit. It appears as though I have to do another post that isn't the one shot I wanted to write. So, in America, YouTube is going to try and use age verification AI to make sure you aren't underage.

What this means is that there will be an Artificial Intelligence looking over your watch history to judge if you are a child. So, if you naturally lean towards watching gaming videos primarily for children (or you just watch one too many of those), the AI will use that to say that you are obviously under 18.

If you are flagged as under 18, what will happen is that you will be cut off from anything that YouTube deems "mature", which, if you're even the slightest bit familiar with YouTube, that could mean anything.

If you have been falsely flagged, then guess what? You are going to have to: provide your driver's license, your social security number, your face, or your credit card to prove that you are in fact of age.

I will repeat that.

You will need to give this website your DRIVER'S LICENSE (YOUR ID), SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER, OR YOUR CREDIT CARD TO PROVE THAT YOU ARE NOT UNDER 18.

This is by nature extremely problematic, given how you're giving your government information to an incredibly insecure website, compared to one run by a government agency. Not only that, it will not stop children from entering adult spaces.

You can already see by how I'm describing it that this system is easy to trigger, and easy to cheat. The only purpose this serves is to compromise the security of millions. Make no mistake, that is explicitly the goal.

THE CRUELTY IS THE FUCKING POINT. THIS IS NOT SOME CUTE LITTLE MISTAKE.

Attempts to undermine anonymity and encryption by the UK, US, and Australian governments are specifically designed to make the internet unsafe by compromising the security of its users.

This not a mistake. It's not about protecting children, it's about control and fearmongering. And all the issues I've laid out makes it evident. It pushes children into spaces that make them vulnerable to predators. It forces victims of abuse to go silent online because their support group has been made inaccessible orthey're at risk of being witch hunted. And it's a dream for human traffickers.

Again,

Blow up YouTube's phone and email lines NOW before August 13th!

And if you are in a country legally requiring age verification to use websites, then you need to protest, protest, PROTEST and blow up the phone and email lines of government agencies until the law has been repealed.

Lives are stake here, this is not an exaggeration.

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The Adventures of - Woke Boy? (part 2)

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Always great when this is the thumbnail of the weeks forecast

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I'm volunteering for a literary journal right now and there's two things I think you all should know.

1. Most people that submit to literary journals are cis white men. We know this because our journal has an anonymous survey about demographics for people that submit.

2. Most things that get submitted to the creative non fiction section are on the level of middle school "What I did over the summer" essays.

I cannot see the demographics of the people whose essays I'm reading, but guys, if you are wondering if you should submit your work to a literary journal or not, I promise you that just in terms of statistics there are a lot of mediocre cis white men and people in general confidently submitting weird crap that isn't literature to literature magazines. Do it. Submit your work. Please. If you want there to be more diversity in literature, be the diversity. Do it. Do it do it do it.

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by Louis Wain.

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Why healing wound so itchy if itching wound while healing so bad????????

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In 2009, during a break at a Boston Celtics game, an ordinary moment turned into an unforgettable performance thanks to a young fan named Jeremy Fry.

As Bon Jovi’s iconic anthem “Livin’ on a Prayer” blasted through the arena, Jeremy sprang to life. What began as a spontaneous dance quickly escalated into a full-blown show. With uncontainable energy, he sang at the top of his lungs, air-guitared like a rock star, and danced his way down the stadium steps—electrifying the crowd in the process.

The stadium camera, originally just capturing a lighthearted fan moment, couldn’t look away. It followed Jeremy’s every move as fans around him joined in, clapping, cheering, and singing along. His raw, unfiltered joy lit up the entire arena—and soon, the internet.

The video of Jeremy’s performance went viral, racking up millions of views across platforms and even landing a spot on Bon Jovi’s official Instagram. For many, it remains one of the most beloved and entertaining fan moments ever captured at a sporting event.

More than a decade later, Jeremy Fry’s epic dance is still remembered—not just for the moves, but for the joy and authenticity that resonated with viewers around the world.

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One of my favorite hoaxes was in early 1962. There was a musical that debuted in 1961 called Subways are for Sleeping that was doing very poorly. For bizarre reasons (ads were banned in the New York subway system lest people take it as permission to sleep there) and normal (the reviews were poor).

But in 1962 an ad came out full of effusive praise from every prominent theater critic in New York. Every single one. From the Times to the Post, all of the famous theater critics in New York LOVED Subways Are For Sleeping

Except...

One of the papers paid to run this ad noticed something...off. Namely, that the editor knew Richard Watts the theater critic and he wasn't African-American.

It turns out that the producer of the musical had found seven New Yorkers with the same names as the seven biggest theater critics in New York, since while he couldn't lie and say they liked it, he could pay for *a* John Chapman or *a* Robert Coleman to see the musical and quote them next to their photo truthfully, bc how many people even knew what the leading theater critics in NYC looked like?

Turns out the producer had wanted to do this for ages, but had to wait for the NYT's critic to retire bc he couldn't find anyone with the same name. Anyway it worked: it went from being about to close, to running another hundred shows and winning a Tony

Here's the main source for this, btw

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Here’s an ANIMORPHS animation pitch I made last summer! Created it for a lot of different personal and professional reasons, but now I’m happy to share!

LONG POST

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Here’s an ANIMORPHS animation pitch I made last summer! Created it for a lot of different personal and professional reasons, but now I’m happy to share!

LONG POST