#also i fucking hate the 'you only heard about this recently' silencing tactic because

[feluka]

"don't pretend you actually care about this you only heard about this cOnFlicT on october" have some respect do you have any idea how long we've been blocking this oxford comma guy

#in honor of him wojacking me just now. too tempted to respond to him but no. i have more self respect #also i fucking hate the 'you only heard about this recently' silencing tactic because #1- completely overlooks the populations that GREW UP with this cause #2- yeah i would very much rather it didn't take 30k deaths for people to start making noise but #if an average young person heard something on the news recently and thought to themselves #'oh dear this is such a travesty i need to learn more about this and how to help!' then good for them?? why is this a bad thing?? #again i'm talking about the average kid not. people like b*rnie s*nders who have been #supporting the occupation since forever and only decided 'oh no this is too much' after 30k deaths

[iceshard1011]

Before the world fell at our feet

Ships: platonic Moxiety, pre-romantic Anxceit (but really it's up to interpretation)

Characters: Virgil, Patton, Janus, Logan is there briefly

Also on Ao3!

Fic below the cut.

Some convoluted exchange of 'Ding Dong Ditch' except they talk about their feelings and try to resolve inner turmoil and maybe reach some sort of reconciliation. Not too hastily, though. They still hate each other, of course. Of course.

The silence of the hallway shattered with a flurry of tentative knocks against dark-painted wood.

“You haven’t been answering your phone, kiddo,” called a soft, almost shy voice. “I was wondering if you were doing okay, since... you know, things have been... tough, lately.” The room inside stayed quiet, no matter how carefully he listened. “I was hoping... you could come out for some food? We could bake together, if you’d like. It’s...” He laughed. It was mirthless and sad. “It’s sure been a while since we got to do that, yeah?”

Silence. Not even rustling sheets or a frustrated sigh.

He leaned back, trying not to look too obviously hurt — as if Virgil could see through his door. The wood was slightly chipped. He wondered when that had happened. Recently? Or had it been there for longer than he wanted to know?

He rubbed the back of his neck, pondering. What could he do? Virgil clearly didn’t want to talk to him... and he couldn’t be blamed, really.

“I just... thought it might make you feel a little better,” he tried. Virgil might not even be in there — there was no proof he was even listening. It was stupid to be doing this.

“I’ve seen you’ve been hanging out with Roman a lot more recently,” he went on. “That’s…” Unexpected. “Good. It’s so good, kiddo. You both did so well talking to Nico. I know Roman appreciates what you did.”

He trailed a finger down a small jagged crack in the purple paint.

“I wish I could have seen it in person,” he murmured truthfully. Wish I could have been the one who caused it. Wish I could have been the one you risked everything for.

But no — that was bad. Bad and selfish, and he couldn’t be like that. Thomas was trying to fix that about him, but people didn’t change easily, especially after years of a practiced notion. Life just didn't work like that.

“I only heard about the way your eyeshadow changed colour from the others,” he continued softly. “I bet you were just the prettiest thing in the world.”

He half expected to hear a huff or the shuffle of material as Virgil tried to work off his embarrassment. He didn’t hear the slightest hint of movement.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and his voice broke. He clenched his fists, trying not to stain the floor with salty droplets. “I’m so... sorry, for everything, Virgil. For hurting you. For doing all the wrong things by you. For not being who you needed me to be, when you needed it the most.”

Against his will, his stinging eyes blurred further and spots on the carpet grew darker beneath him. “I’m sorry.”

He waited.

Nothing.

This was pointless. There was nothing on the other side of that door except silence and emptiness.

You told yourself not to get your hopes up, he thought, pulling back.

“I’ll... get out of your hair. I’m sorry for bothering you.”

The hallway remained still apart from the downtrodden shuffling footsteps slowly retreating.

Inside the bedroom, the embodiment of anxiety bit his lip so hard he tasted iron.

A few days later, Virgil crept out of his room for the first time in weeks, driven by his grumbling stomach and the ache in his chest. He rubbed the sleeves of his hoodie between his fingers in a repetitive, patterned motion. His breathing matched the movement. It became more forced as he descended the stairs. The kitchen was quiet, but not empty.

Virgil swallowed. No backing out now.

“Hey, Pat,” he said slowly. Patton looked up from where he was making pancakes at the stove. His face lit up, but from the way he wrung his hands together, Virgil could tell that he was restraining himself.

“Good morning, Virge,” he said. His voice was soft. It didn’t match the way his eyes shone with delight. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” said Virgil. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just... wanted to apologise.”

Patton’s eyes blew wide. “Um... For what?”

That caught Virgil off-guard. Why was Patton avoiding it? Usually he was open to anyone trying to talk about their thoughts. Had Virgil done something wrong? Had he made a mistake hiding from him? He shuffled in place.

“Don't make me, like... say it,” he grumbled.

Patton looked baffled, but pleasantly so. He smiled and shook his head. “Say what, kid — uh —”

“For ignoring you last night,” Virgil said, interrupting before Patton could stammer too much.

Patton blinked, tilting his head like a dog. “Last night...?”

Virgil frowned. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to —”

“Oh, no, of course not!” Patton said, shaking his head and raising his hands. “I just got a little confused! I’m more than happy to — Oh! Good morning, Logan!”

Virgil resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder. All he got from the others now, aside from Patton, was awkward silences and loaded glares. It was doubtful that his anxiety would take kindly to one of Logan's indifferent silences this early in the morning.

“Good morning.” Logan’s response was cold... but it was a response, at least. The logical side came into Virgil’s view as he moved into the kitchen and brewed himself a mug of coffee without another word.

Patton turned back to Virgil, hands outstretched. “Virgil —”

“It’s fine,” Virgil said. Patton’s face flashed with hurt, and Virgil’s chest tinged painfully. He met Patton’s gaze meaningfully. “Really.”

Patton noticeably relaxed. He smiled, and it looked natural, and continued to make breakfast. Virgil shuffled down on his seat, listening to Patton’s pitiful attempt to converse with Logan, and tried not to cringe.

Virgil stood in front of a closed bedroom door and hated the queasy feeling in his stomach.

“Look, if this is how you felt the other night, my bad. I feel awkward as fuck.” Virgil was too scared to pause. If he paused, there was no doubt he would start overthinking, and then he’d back out, and then maybe he’d regret it. Virgil was so sick of regretting things. “And uh. Just for the record, you got the cardigan wrong. Again. So maybe just… stop trying.”

He noticed with a jolt that he was digging his fingernails into his wrists. He pried his arms apart and forced the words through his throat. “You’ve already got Thomas and Patton backing you. You can stop acting like a cheesy cartoon villain and just start trying to get the rest of our good wishes.” He realised how wrong that felt to say, and moved to cover up: “Not mine, though. Sorry, not sorry. That’s not happening for a while. Ever, actually. Don’t hold your breath.”

Virgil grinded his teeth, trying not to wince at himself. “I still hate you, is my point. But you make Patton happy, and... I guess you look after Thomas, in your own way.”

He looked at the ground. He thought of comforting smiles that spread warmth across his chest like wildfire. He thought about his anxiety being unconsciously battled into submission each time he was welcomed into each room he crept carefully into.

He thought about calming tactics and kind eyes and gentle voices and grey turning into patched purple. “I’m... definitely in no position to judge someone for that sort of shit.”

Virgil shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He had a point. Get to the point.

“Look, my point is that — fuck you, fuck this whole situation. You’re still a pretentious asshole.” He frowned. “But... stop pretending to be someone you’re not. It’s getting tedious.”

As he talked, he wondered if he imagined the shuffle on the other side of the door, like someone trying to muffle noise. He pushed the thought away.

Get to the point, part of his mind urged again. Be brave. Be brave, damnit.

“Every one of Thomas’ sides deserves to be themselves without fear or judgement,” he said finally, spilling the words from his mouth like hot coffee he’d swallowed too fast. He took a breath, like it had taken energy to finally say it, and registered the deafening silence swirling heavily around him.

That’s all I got.

It didn’t feel like a microphone-dropping statement, or something that he thought the embodiment of deceit really wanted to hear. But he’d said it, and he’d meant it, and he thought that maybe that was enough.

He slipped away, fleeing back to his room, because he would never be anything more than a coward.

But if the next morning saw Virgil wandering downstairs to find Patton and Janus winding around each other as they made breakfast, he might've been rubbing at his cheeks to clear the exhaustion from his eyes, or perhaps cover up the smallest remnants of purple sparkles.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #anxceit #(but don't tell them that) #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending #they actually talk about their feelings #sort of #cross posted on ao3

[another-aspiring-writer]

A Little Kidnapping and Forced Dinner Date Never Hurt Anyone

Here’s my first piece. There’s not really any whump in it, it’s just here to introduce the characters and set things up.

Tag list: @ashintheairlikesnow

I don’t think i need to add any warnings for this. Please let me know though!

Enara sat with her back pressed against the rigid wood of her chair. She glared at the boy seated across from her. Theo stared at the table between them, making a point to not look at her.

That was fine. Enara didn’t really want to look at his annoyingly blue eyes right then. She glanced around the room, looking for anything she could use to get out. They seemed to be in a private room of a restaurant. At least, that was the only reason she could think of as to why they were stuck in chairs across a table from one another, their wrists and ankles cuffed to their chairs. She’d been awake for ten minutes, and she already hated that stupid table with it’s stupid white tablecloth and candles and a single rose in a vase at the center.

Enara knew it was Theo’s fault they were there. She had no evidence, but she knew. It was just like him to do something stupid that got them both caught. When they got out, Enara was going straight to Eli and telling him she would never go on a mission with Theo ever again.

First, she just had to figure out how they’d ended up here to begin with. She remembered driving into town for groceries and then stopping at McDonalds. It got a little fuzzy after that, but Enara thought she remembered someone grabbing her from behind. If only she’d had her knife on her, but of course this was the one time she left it under her seat in the truck. Things wasn’t supposed to get confrontational. Not yet. No one was supposed to know her team was in the area. If they did, it would defeat the purpose of the term ‘under cover.’

“Are you finished looking at me like I’m the devil incarnate?” Theo looked up at her, and how were eyes that blue even possible?

“No.”

“Is there a reason for this glare of yours? Or have you just decided to try out a new resting face. Because I don’t think that’s a very good look on you. Maybe smile more. You can think of all the ways you’re going to kill me if you want.”

“Shut up!” she snapped, desperately trying to cover the smile forming on her lips. She was supposed to be mad at him! “If it hadn’t been for you, we would have finished our supply run without getting caught!”

“Oh, so I’m the one who got us caught? Because I clearly remember that you were the one who insisted we stop to get you french fries.”

“I did not! That was you who wanted them!”

“I did want them, but only because you wouldn’t shut up about how good McDonald’s fries are,” he frowned, “They’re not, by the way.”

“And they’re at it again,” a tired voice said. Enara twisted as much as she could in her chair to see the speaker.

“Eli!” She shouted upon seeing his familiar face. “Thank god you found me! Can you come uncuff me? My wrists hurt.”

Zoe stepped into the doorway behind Eli. She brushed a strand of her hair out of her face with a sigh, “Can we knock them out again? They were so quiet when they were unconscious.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Theo pulled against the cuffs around his wrists. “You’re—? Knock us out again? What the fucking hell?”

Zoe leaned against the doorframe with a smirk. “You heard me right. You two were being so annoying with this little dance you’re doing. So, Eli and I decided to speed up the process. You’re welcome.”

“We’re not . . . what are you . . .” Enara couldn’t seem to form words as fire spread across her cheeks. She was probably scarlet, she thought bitterly. “There’s no dance going on between us,” She finally said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I couldn’t care less if I never saw him again.”

“What she said,” Theo added, his face the same shade of red as hers.

“Well, Eli and I disagree. The tension between you two is palpable.”

Eli smiled, “I’ll get dinner then.”

“Where the fuck does he think he’s going?” Enara shouted as he left the room. When she got her wrists out of those cuffs, she was going to murder all three of her teammates.

Zoe crossed to the table with a laugh. She pulled a lighter from her pocket, flicked it, and a flame appeared at the top. “He just said he’s getting dinner,” Zoe reached for the candles, lighting one, then the other. After they were lit, apparently to ‘set the mood,’ she put the lighter back into her pocket.

Maybe if she knocked the candles over, Enara thought, she could start a fire and make their death look like an accident. That could work. She glanced at Theo, trying to read his face. He looked like he was contemplating their deaths also. Maybe she would let him live, if he helped her kill the other two.

Eli swept back into the room, a tray stacked with food balanced in his hands. It smelled amazing, and when it was set before her, Enara considered letting them live.

It looked so delicious — pasta and chicken in a pesto sauce with two breadsticks on the side of the plate. Maybe she would let them live. She was probably just hungry, and things would be better once she had eaten. And gotten out of those cuffs.

“We’ll be back to let you out in about,” Eli glanced at his watch, “Oh, let’s make it three hours. That should give you plenty of time to sort everything out.”

He turned from the room, Zoe on his heels.

“Wait,” Enara cried, “Aren’t you going to uncuff us?”

“Oh, right!” Zoe turned back to them, quickly uncuffing Enara’s left hand and Theo’s right hand. “It’s probably going to be awkward eating with your nondominant hand, but this way you’ll hopefully have a harder time using your silverware as weapons against us.” Zoe left the room, barely paused at the door, “Enjoy your evening, lovebirds!”

Never mind, Enara thought, they were going to die.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, staring at their plates. Enara had to do a weird shuffle forward to get her chair to move so she could reach the table, where she promptly picked up her fork.

The food was amazing, and she almost laughed at the situation she was in. She was tied up by her teammates in who-knows-where because she needed to ‘confess her feelings for Theo’ (which was not happening), but hey, at least the food was good.

“This was not how I imagined I would be spending my Friday night,” Theo said, finally breaking the silence.

Enara laughed, “No, I suppose it’s not how anyone would imagine their Friday night going.”

Theo poked at his noodles with his fork, pushing one around his plate. He glanced up at her, opened his mouth to say something, then closed his mouth. What could he say to her?

“I’m sorry—” they both started at the same time.

“You go first,” Enara offered.

“You sure?” He waited for her to nod before starting. “I, um, well. I guess I don’t know what I want to say. You’re just so . . . infuriating. And I hate how annoying you can be, which is why I try to annoy you. And it’s so easy to get under your skin. And then you make this face hat I just—there, you’re making it now when I’m not even trying to do anything.”

“Why do you always have to be right about everything?” Enara asked. She could feel her face heating again. How could he do that to her without doing anything? “I can’t stand how you’re always proving how right you are about every single little thing. People can be wrong once in a while, but you never are, and it’s just so infuriating.”

“I do that because I’m trying to impress you. You’re so creative and talented and smart. You’re good a tactics and fighting and all the undercover work you do. And I always manage to mess up something and Eli or Zoe have to come in and save me. Sometimes I just want to show you I can do things. That I’m not completely useless.”

“Oh.” Enara hadn’t thought about that. She’d never considered the possibility he was trying to impress her. How could she be somebody anyone wanted to impress?

They both stared down at their plates, the silence stretched on and on. Enara chewed on her lip. Was she really about to tell him this?

“I think I’ve been trying to impress you too.” She whispered.

“What?”

She looked up at him, brown eyes meeting blue ones. For once, the hostility one of them always seemed to have in their gaze was not there. “I— I think I’ve been trying to impress you. You never seem affected by anything and I have never once seen you mess up on a job. I do all the time. I have more mess ups than fingers to count them.”

Theo laughed, “So we both know we mess up all the time and neither of us notices when the other one does. Good to know.”

“I will definitely be keeping a closer eye on you now,” Enara smiled. For once, it looked like a genuine smile to Theo, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“So, can we agree to try to be more open to one another from now on?”

She shrugged, “Sure. And since we’re being open, I’m going to tell you that as soon as we get out of these cuffs, I will be murdering Eli and Zoe.”

“Don’t you worry, I will be helping with the murdering and disposal of all evidence.”

“Glad to know we’re on the same page.”

He nodded. “Agreed. And McDonald’s fries are actually pretty good,” he added, remembering their argument from earlier. How could that have that happened so recently? It felt like hours away. “I just wanted to annoy you earlier.”

“No they’re not. And you know it. There are so many better places to get fries.”

“Truce?” He asked.

“Fine, truce. But this does not mean that I’ve confessed my feelings for you,” she smirked, “I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

“Oh, definitely. No one can know Enara secretly has emotions. That would ruin everything.”

“Shut up,” she laughed.

“Okay, fine. But we still need to plan our payback.”

They leaned closer over the table as their plan took shape. They never expected their night to go this way, but neither were complaining now.

In the corner of the room, a security camera secretly feed their conversation to the room down the hall. Zoe leaned against a table, twirling a knife between her fingers as Eli leaned over the laptop on the table.

“Told ya they just needed a little alone time together,” Zoe said. She nudged Eli’s leg with her foot, “Look at them, thick as thieves and its only been forty five minutes.”

“Yeah, but now we have to deal with them working together to get back at us.”

Zoe waved her hand, “It’s fine, nothing we can’t handle. If we couldn’t get these two to work things out, then I don’t think we’d deserve to call ourselves spies.”

Eli looked up at her, annoyance written all over his face. He couldn’t argue with her, but he still didn’t like what Enara and Theo were planning. “When this backfires, it’s all your fault.”

“Whatever you say, boss. But for the next two hours and ten minutes we have nothing to worry about. Relax, everything’s going to be fine.”

Far across town, a woman laughed. She watched as the hazy image on her laptop flickered between the young couple cuffed at the table and the pair in the room down the hall. All four of them were sitting there under the assumption they had everything under control.

In reality, she was the one pulling the strings. And they didn’t know it yet, but she had them all right where she wanted them.

#Enara and Theo just won’t admit anything #Eli and Zoe got too annoyed and took matters into their own hands #Mari’s spy story #waking up restrained #kidnapping #kind of

[ric0cheted]

distraction tactics (fic)

In which Geralt needs to sleep, Jaskier has no chill, and Yennefer is perfectly happy to take one for the team. 

(aka time for messy, shoddily-written witcher porn(ish)! all hedonism, zero redeeming qualities. all sorts of permutations of geraskefer. they’re all fucking in my world, lads.)

Upon returning to the manor house, Geralt managed exactly three things: getting undressed, bathing, and crawling into bed.

He wouldn't call the residence at which Yennefer had--temporarily--allowed himself and Jaskier to stay home, exactly. But it certainly beat out the ratty, shit-smelling inns that the nearest town boasted. 

Especially since Geralt's most recent hunt had lasted two days longer than it should've, the monsters had numbered threefold more than they should've, and the coin he'd been paid hadn't reflected either of those developments. Thank the gods he'd managed to, for once, convince Jaskier to stay back. 

All told, Geralt was looking forward to nothing more than sinking into the mattress and letting sleep take hold.

Which meant, of course, that barely three minutes of blessed silence passed before Geralt heard someone kneel beside the bed. He cracked an eye open, right in time to see Jaskier swoop in for a kiss. Geralt rolled his eyes and indulged it, winding his hand in Jaskier’s hair and moaning despite himself when Jaskier's tongue curled around his.

Jaskier pulled away, grinning. "Bring us back anything good?" Jaskier was feeling particularly agreeable, then, if he was referring to himself and Yennefer together like that. "Absolutely fine if the answer happens to simply be your lovely Witcher self. Because we missed you quite a bit." Without further ado, Jaskier slipped under the covers and plastered himself to Geralt, the distinct aroma of arousal wafting from him. 

Geralt had a tendency of forgetting how solid Jaskier was under his clothing, tailored as they were to lend a deceptive waifishness to his frame. Geralt was still taller, still broader, but Jaskier could drape himself across Geralt and cover a good stretch of his body. Much like he currently was. Geralt usually appreciated it, but this time his muscles ached in protest.

Geralt snorted. "Jaskier, I'm fucking tired. I don't even know if I could."

"I'll be good for you," Jaskier promised, kissing Geralt's throat. "Or be good to you. Whichever you'd like." His voice broke into a purr towards the end of his sentence.

"Jaskier," Geralt groaned. He wrapped his fingers around Jaskier's waist, the slimmest part of him, regretfully. He was a hair's breadth away from dislodging the bard himself when Jaskier yelped and jerked out of his grasp, nearly tumbling off the bed.

"You're insufferable," Yennefer told the bard from where she stood in the doorway. Jaskier sat up and rubbed the side of his head, which Geralt could only assume she'd magically slapped. "Now, come with me. I require assistance, and it seems as though yours will have to do.”

Jaskier sighed, deeply put-upon. "You never need my help, so I'm going to assume that you've finally decided to murder me." Jaskier gazed at Geralt with woeful eyes. "Geralt. Geralt. I expect at least a full year of mourning out of you. Also, I'd like my lute donated to a museum, possibly one devoted to the paraphernalia and personal effects of the continent's greatest artists."

Geralt didn't even stay awake long enough to roll his eyes, much less wryly ask why Jaskier would go with her if he was so convinced of his imminent demise.

***

Geralt awoke an hour later. He would've desperately liked more, but it seemed as though sleep would elude him for the moment.

It was all Yennefer and Jaskier’s fault, Geralt thought, grouchily, dragging himself out of bed to bitch at them. He hadn't seen where they'd vanished to earlier, but he didn’t need to guess at their whereabouts, given the overwhelming scent of lust and sex drifting from the library. He'd smelled it in his fucking sleep. It had woken him up. 

In retrospect, Geralt really, truly wished there was something that could've prepared him for what he was walking into.

Dressed in a soft, lace-trimmed robe that ended at her thighs, Yennefer lounged in an armchair, using one hand to page through a thick tome and the other to feed blackberries to Jaskier, handsome and unclothed at her feet. Jaskier was reclining against the chair, one knee pulled to his chest, tilting his head back to take the fruit from her with shocking obedience. His mouth closed around it and Geralt could see his tongue licking at her fingers. Jaskier's soft lips were berry-dark, but his chin and cheeks glistened with something else. His cock was hard, leaking, and untouched.

Geralt choked on his own saliva. Jaskier's eyes, half-closed with bliss, flew open. Their gazes met. Geralt blushed, and then, to his utter bewilderment, Jaskier blushed, scrambling to arrange his limbs in some semblance of modesty and opening his mouth to blurt something out. 

"Geralt." Yennefer said, calmly, twisting her fingers in Jaskier's hair to cut him off. "How was your rest?" Her hold was tight and kept Jaskier from looking away from Geralt. Geralt had no such excuse for failing to tear his own gaze away.

"Fine," Geralt wheezed. It was a terrible lie, but the blood that should've been making its way to his head was traveling decidedly southwards. 

"Good," Yennefer hummed, as though nothing were out of the ordinary. She relaxed her grip and petted Jaskier's hair instead. "Now, it took quite a while to get him like this, and I'd hate to see all of that time and effort undone. Do you intend to stay?" 

Jaskier tilted his head into her touch. There was a still touch of embarrassment about him, burning hotly in his eyes and cheeks, but a dizzy lust was starting to bleed into it. He relaxed his legs, just slightly, letting Geralt catch a glimpse of his cock. It was still very, very hard.

Geralt's mouth watered, his own cock making a valiant effort. But he'd been telling Jaskier the truth, about the degree to which he felt as though he was about to unravel at the seams and fall apart.

Besides, there were things that Geralt hadn't quite worked out about Yennefer and Jaskier, together, certain intricacies to their relationship that Geralt didn't feel equipped to navigate when exhaustion was making him feel the weight of each individual bone in his body. This seemed like one of those occasions.

"I'm going back to sleep." Geralt forced out, voice strangled. "Don't fuck each other to death before I wake up." Taking the coward's route, he turned and fled, Yennefer's peal of laughter following him out.

Geralt made it back to the bedroom and immediately started rifling through the chest of drawers. After a moment of searching, he found a vial of the sleep potion Yennefer had once specially brewed for him. He paused in consideration. It did work, but it was difficult to make, expensive, and usually only granted him a few extra hours, given how quickly his Witcher metabolism burned through it.

Distantly, he could just barely make out Yennefer's purred oh, good boy, followed by Jaskier's low moan. Without hesitation, Geralt downed the entire bottle and welcomed the sweet embrace of sleep. 

***

Geralt slept for three or four more hours before the potion wore off. It took the edge off, at least, bringing him firmly into tired from his previous death walking.

He was stretching, trying to ease the tightness in his muscles, when Jaskier slipped into the bedroom, freshly-bathed and smelling of Yennefer's various soaps and oils. He met Geralt's eyes and blushed. 

"Ah! So. About that." Jaskier rubbed the back of his head and flashed Geralt a charming, sheepish grin. The bruised look to his mouth spoke more of thorough use than of berries. "I--"

Rolling his eyes, Geralt looped his arm around Jaskier’s waist and pulled him down into the sheets, savoring his surprised yelp. After all, his cock was now very, very capable of participating. 

***

Geralt left Jaskier passed out and drooling on the bed to seek Yennefer out. It took a little longer without the ludicrous trail of arousal to follow, but he eventually found her in the alchemical workshop.

She'd traded the shimmering cream of her robe for one of her traditional black dresses. Jaskier probably could've waxed poetic about the finer points of this particular garment compared to the others. Geralt couldn't tell the difference between them like that; he just knew that she looked beautiful in all of them.

Geralt made his way to her and nuzzled at the hollow of her throat before tugging her in for a kiss. Yennefer wound her hands through his hair and deepened it, tilting his head for a better angle.

After a moment, Geralt pulled away. He'd come here to see her, but he figured he might as well ask. "So, about that." 

"Oh, that," Yennefer replied. There was a vaguely smug twist to her lips. "I've found that he occasionally benefits from a firm hand and something to keep him...occupied. For everyone's good, really." 

"For everyone's good," Geralt repeated, dryly, as though her comment didn't have his cock perking up.

"Yes, for everyone's good. It isn't my fault that you both woke up and turned us down." Her lavender eyes glinted. "Consider joining us next time. It'll likely be impossible to keep him behaved with you around, but there's fun to be had, regardless." 

"Next time," Geralt growled, sliding his hands down her body. He couldn't stop picturing it. "How about you wait until I'm awake."

"No promises," Yennefer purred, allowing Geralt to lift her up onto the nearest unoccupied table. "But maybe. If you're lucky."

#yennskier #geraskier #geraskefer #yenneralt #fic #my fic #smut #not that literally any of my work is cleaned up #but this is too sloppy even for my ao3 lmao

[grimecrow]

Look At The Image That Threatens My Life In Ford Nation!

     (Please note I am not going to post the image here, cause that would be reposting the image, so here is the link to the original: https://reddiesetandgo.tumblr.com/post/168322329740/dancing-at-the-quarry-my-beautiful-commission )    This was my cellphone wallpaper it’s a piece of art on Tumblr I found that makes me smile; I think the boombox in the back sells the feels. Anyhow this morning I was looking at this and realized that I can’t have this as my wallpaper anymore; it’s too dangerous now.     A notion that may not make sense to you but I ask that you read this whole thing out before making your final decision. Give me the chance to show you my reasons.    

   First a little history, the last time I was gonna have the absolute shit kicked out of me for the crime of being gay, alive and living in Ontario was in 2007 at Seneca college. A bunch of nursing students found out by overhearing me talk with friends in the cafeteria area that I was gay and let me know that they were gonna be heroes by beating the hell out of me to the point where it would be impossible for me to be a gay cop.      Being a person who knows when to bow their head and when to stand up and fight I accepted that this was going to happen. I wasn’t gonna beg for them to not hurt me; that usually leads to some form of sexual assault or abuse. I told my friends that after classes ended that day that’d be the last they see of me as either I would be in the hospital and not coming back to the program or I’d win the fight and be expelled because I fought back.      Because I had fallen in with a good group of people, when the time came I walked out to meet the waiting nursing students. The unexpected thing was a group of guys walked out of the school to stand beside me. Remotely fair odds seemed unfair to the nursing students so they bailed and the situation was dealt with, in part by the administration.    

   That was when gay marriage had just won, and we had a provincial Liberal government in power. At the height of the media shaming and encouraging others to shame bigots because Canada was looking good; a bastion of tolerance and other bullshit we lied to ourselves about cause it was really important to look good to the world community.   

   At that time I was still taking the precautions I now have to enact once more, the one time I slipped up in a couple of sentences in public and I was fucked. I was in a scenario where it was going to be five on one with weapons. How dare I speak in public!   

   Over the holidays I had someone here who confirmed that there was still a lot of violence and threat of violence against the LGBTQ+ community in the ‘enlightened’ age of 2017. I won’t name the person because you don’t randomly confirm people as gay or gay allied online anymore; if they choose to confirm things in the comments section that is their decision but others were there, they heard it too.       Do you think the gay community suddenly stopped trusting cops because of the Bruce McArthur thing alone? Oh wait there is miles of documentation showing the police reaction to the violence or threats against the LGBTQ+ community; the same reaction it has always been, silence with subtle pushes of encouragement.  

    This was all when we had a Liberal provincial government and an LGBTQ+ premiere so for us, the climate was as good as it was gonna get. Now we have Doug Ford. Thankfully we have a case study recently about what happens when a far right politician with backing from a White Nationalist organization willing to sell out as much as possible to the violent religious right comes into power.       Now this is where you say I’m crossing the line, it’s not like there are people giving Nazi salutes or wearing ‘Make Ontario Great Again’ hats...

  Opps! Well that’s OK it’s not like white nationalists are being more open and throwing huge parties and events to celebrate their beliefs! Which of course they are allowed to do but in Toronto the tolerent such a thing could not happen without people paying attention right?

https://pressprogress.ca/the-toronto-suns-joe-warmington-is-headlining-a-far-right-rebel-media-event-on-doug-ford/

  Oh well...   Oh I know, I know! I know what those who disbelieve will say; “It’s not like we have a growing hate crime problem in Ontario!”

http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/london/london-ontario-hate-crimes-1.4673324

  Opps once more! But don’t worry that was from the age of the dinosaurs, a whole two and a half weeks ago. Thankfully it hasn’t been proven the world over that when these extreme right personalities win those who commit hate crimes become embolden and escalate things. Oh, what’s that you say? That’s been an understood fact for like twenty years...shit.  Ontario is strong! Ontario is accepting! Ontario cares about people! I mean Doug Ford plans to roll back the laws creating protection zones around abortion clinics. The people won’t stand for it! Society has changed so much since those laws were passed! When was that again? When did we realize and finally act to create special laws to remind people not to attack others? October 2017? Fuck.  

https://ipolitics.ca/2017/10/26/ontarios-bubble-zone-abortion-protest-law-was-long-overdue/

  Well remember under Wynne Ontario was as free and tolerant as our society got, the government was the ally of minorities of race, culture, religion, gender and sexual orientation. Look how far we came in those years...next to nowhere.   I’ve been assaulted, I’ve gone to visit others who havebeen assaulted , watched the casts come on and off, the scars be freshly made, the blood on the sidewalks and streets from bashings. I knew the rules to avoid Cherry Beach, to lower my risk. I also made sure to study the fuck out of the climates that caused danger to increase or decrease.  That’s why I managed to survive as well as I did while so many around me were beaten, broken, and died. Do you still think I am over reacting to the situation? Maybe I am I mean it’s not like there were any candidates who openly celebrated being a white nationalist in any way shape or form! Right? Oh no...here comes another link...

http://pressprogress.ca/ontario-pc-candidate-promoted-alt-right-website-linked-to-hate-figures-at-young-conservative-event/

  Well I mean, I have to be wrong right? It’s not like she won or anythin--fuck it here’s the link.

https://www.thespec.com/news-story/8658689-donna-skelly-wins-in-new-riding-lone-pc-in-an-ndp-city/

  So there are a lot of red flags; plus the fact that there are those I have spoken to privately about this issue that have already said they have been harassed and/or faced the threat of attack. I’m not naming them because of my rules to try to ensure their protection, if they wish to comment and discuss it in the comments below that will be their decision.     I have decided to enact the ancient customs of 2007 and prior to ensure my safety ONLY because I can’t get out of this province. No seriously if I had the chance I would abandon 90% of all my possessions and move to a place I hate, that has a culture I hate, and is ridiculously more expensive for no good reasons. That’s right I would be moving to British Columbia and starting over again from near scratch JUST to escape what is happening here.    Cause it’s going to get worse when Sheer wins federally; which he will the Rebel and the PCs both keep going on about how they learned so much form this provincial election so you can bet the Rebel will throw women under the bus by feeding them to the violent Religious Right in order to win control of the federal government.   British Columbia is one of the only provinces that I think can withstand a Rebel take over for the next ten years or so, and they will shield those that white nationalism tries to grind up.    Does it seem like running away? I like the idea of calling it tactical retreat. Ontario is lost, go somewhere that hasn’t fallen yet and do your part to try to keep it from falling.      Also yeah after decades of violence, fear, and all of that part of me also wants to be able to have a picture of two guys dancing before one goes off to college on my personal phone without prominent and reasonably verified fear that it will lead to injury or potentially death if I happen to lose the hate crime lottery despite me not waving it in anyone’s fucking face.      Welcome to Ford Nation, hope you aren’t anything aside from white, straight, male and either Christian, Atheist or Agnostic cause if you are...you know what’s coming. (I wrote this originally elsewhere when Doug Ford was elected, since then there has been an increase in hate crime in Ontario. To the surprise of no one. Welcome to Ontario.)

#Doug Ford #Ford Nation #Toronto #Ontario #Canadian politics #Cnd poli #hate crime

[hjgale]

Activism and Antisemitism in Seattle

    I have been following the cluster-fuck that is the convergence of Omari Tahir-Garrett, gentrification, Seattle "radical" politics, antisemitism, and Seattle avoidance (aka "Seattle nice," passive-aggressive avoidance, etc.). There is a lot to struggle with here -- not in responding to the antisemitism, but in responding to others lack of proper response.

     I have been an activist for a long time and, despite having spent 15-20 years each in NYC, Boston, and Seattle, it is only in Seattle that I have seen activists hesitate to condemn public displays of antisemitism in activist movements -- more on that later.

   The silence and unwillingness to publicly criticize folks in the activist community is driven by many factors, some of which are exacerbated in, if not unique to, Seattle.

    During the last 20 years I have been in Seattle I can only remember two occasions where I directly witnessed antisemitism being a significant problem on the left: on both occasions my trying to deal with it without going public and without shaming people mostly failed. That is why I applaud Sydney Brownstone’s (and here) and Ijeoma Oluo's courage to take this debate public. I am disheartened that only through public shaming do many folks on the left do the right thing when it comes to this (and other) issues.

   Every public comment by activists -- save the ones noted above -- has involved some form of equivocation, including those from Cliff Cawthon for the first nine days ("We absolutely will not defend his statements"; confused much Clff? The targets of hate require defending and the perpetrators require condemnation). These equivocations utilize any one or combination of the following forms of sophistry:

(1) Hierarchy of Oppression: The belief that since one form of oppression is far worse than another, the lesser form of oppression can be ignored or "saved for another day." While there is a hierarchy of oppression -- worthy of academic study and analysis, and worth considering when strategizing certain actions -- it is not for any mortal to decide on any given day whose oppression comes first and whose can be ignored, certainly not when racist sentiments have been overtly expressed. There is also an aspect of antisemitism that exacerbates this belief in a "hierarchy of oppression": that Jews are immunized from the consequences of racism and hate, or possibly even deserving of it, since "they control so much."

(2) "They started it!": The belief that something worse preceded the antisemitism and explains or justifies it. If that notion doesn't work for kids it shouldn't work for adults.

(3) Trauma of the Oppressed: The belief that because of racism and oppression folks are traumatized and therefore lash out in seemingly irrational ways. As someone who grew up in, and has worked for years, in minority communities, this notion is both insulting, patronizing, and absurd when used to explain behavior like Omari's. Vast numbers of racists have probably been traumatized, or suffer from a mental illness, but I don't ever remember folks accepting such possibilities as anything beyond a factor that might mitigate the sanction or punishment meted out to the perpetrator.

(4) Only the non-righteous complain: The belief that those that cry antisemitism are racist themselves, they only take action when the racism is directed at them, or they are not true activists. Given that Jews make up an absurdly disproportionate percentage of social activists, the only proper response to anyone that might harbor that notion would be a "fuck you!".

    Focusing on the specific individuals involved -- what Omari or Ian Eisenberg did or said -- also misses the point that the progressive community --  both those that were there and those who later heard about it -- have a moral responsibility to publicly and unambiguously denounce words which promote hate and are injurious to folks far beyond Eisenberg and the people present on April 1.

    It should not have been difficult for people to parse four somewhat independent factors concerning the April 1 incident: (1) the specific words used by Omari; (2) the people immediately and potentially hurt by those words; (3) the wrong of allowing racism to appear tolerable by not immediately challenging it; and (4) Omari the person. Parsing those factors should have made it easy for folks to say something straightforward like:

Omari's words were hateful and hurtful, not just to Ian Eisenberg, but to all Jews in our community, and, hopefully, to non-Jews who struggle for justice. What preceded Omari's words is irrelevant. Further, we recognize that the lack of an immediate and public condemnation by those who heard the words adds to the hate and to the hurt: it makes these sentiments appear acceptable, and that the welfare and feelings of those hurt by these words are not worthy of respect and concern.

Omari as a person is someone who has a long history in Seattle's African-American community, he is... [here many thoughts could be inserted, ranging from "an important elder," to "a historical figure," to "one who has spent the last two decades bullying, disrespecting, threatening, and spewing racist rhetoric toward many"].

   Somehow almost everyone who responded to this incident felt compelled to use this as an opportunity to return the focus to the original issues being protested, failing to recognize that Omari's behavior and words were what took public attention away from the original issues. It is not an apology if, when I hurt someone, I then proceed to explain how that hurt happened in the context of me doing something I believe was important: "I was rushing to the hospital to help a whole lot of people, so me hitting you isn't really important." Instead of focusing on Omari, his injurious behavior, and the people he hurt, the folks involved in the protest decided to bemoan those who were hurt taking focus away from the issue. Far too many people spent way the fuck too many words on what they believed to be the "important" issue, rather than on addressing and resolving the issue created by Omari.

    There are many factors that lead to this sort of behavior, factors that also feed other dysfunctional behaviors among the left in Seattle. I'll note four obvious ones:

(1) Uncritical loyalty to a "principle" that folks from a dominant group must defer to the demands or actions of individuals from an oppressed group. This leads to a permissiveness for all kinds of fucked-up behavior, since this principle offers no guidance as to whose particular demands or actions we should accept, or how we should distinguish leaders from posers or provocateurs. Oftentimes this principle leads white folks to simply follow the loudest or most "radical" seeming person in the room. Many of us witnessed this during Occupy in 2012 when a "radical" People of Color (POC) caucus bullied their way into Occupy's (supposedly non-existent) leadership, nearly appropriating a six year tradition of May Day as a day for advancing immigrant rights, and trying to turn May Day into a confrontation with police. Of course the leadership of oppressed people must be central to any struggle for justice, but following the loudest and most provocative voice will often disrespect the voices of those who have been struggling the longest and hardest, and are often the more representative voice in the community.

(2) "The enemy of my enemy is my friend,"  where we make alliances with groups and folks we really shouldn't.

(3) Leaderless and coalitionless movements. The growing popularity of this style of organizing, which came to the fore in 1999 with WTO and has gained again in popularity since Occupy in 2011, exacerbates the two problems noted above. It allows for a single or a few individuals to reshape a movement, severely reducing its mass appeal and ultimately rendering it dysfunctional. In these cases you often hear folks remaining in the rump movement state "well, everyone here agrees," completely ignoring the fact that the de facto leadership, which isn't supposed to exist, has scared everyone else away and produced toxic groupthink.

(4) "Seattle nice", or an unwillingness to struggle openly and honestly with ideological and tactical differences. Combined with natural tendencies toward groupthink, this will often produce an unwillingness to confront shitty behavior and shitty ideas. This is not unique to the left in Seattle: it pervades all aspects of the social space here. It becomes easier to tolerate bad or offensive behavior rather than confront it. This exacerbates all the above issues.

   I would be remiss to not recognize that antisemitism among the left has some unique underlying support in American society. The vast majority of commercial land on the four blocks surrounding the 23rd Avenue and E. Union Street intersection is owned, controlled, or developed by entities that have nothing to do with Jews or Ian Eisenberg, but rather by: private companies (Mount Baker, LLC and Lake Union Partners); city, state, and private non-profits (Capitol Hill Housing and Casey Family Programs); a protestant church (Mt. Calvary, with a homophobic pastor, owns five lots along 23rd Avenue, property tax free); and a Catholic family (the Bangassers). How is it that the one Jew, who owns one lot, becomes repeatedly publicly targeted? How is it that antisemitic rhetoric is heard, but not anti-religious, anti-Catholic, etc.?

(1) Pervasiveness of antisemitic stereotypes in American culture, especially the "positive" stereotypes

. One of the most unique characteristics of antisemitism is that some of its core tenets are, potentially, compliments. Recently someone told me "You guys (Jews) control banks, businesses, movies." When I started to object, they immediately interjected "No, no, no, that is a compliment, that is a good thing... look what you have achieved against all those odds!" It is extraordinarily rare for racist stereotypes to be based on achievement. This phenomenon is due to both the disproportionate success of Jews in a wide range of fields* and to the publication of The Protocols of the Elders of Zion over 100 years ago in Russia (though conspiracy theories involving the secret control of banks and governments by Jews preceded this). This completely fictitious document purports to uncover the Jewish plot to rule the world, providing "evidence" of Jews scheming behind every institution of political, social and monetary control. Its first American publication was in 1918 and was originally distributed in US government circles. In 1919 Philadelphia's most popular newspaper published it (replacing "Jews" with "Bolsheviks", though few in 1919 believed there was a difference), then, through most of the 1920s, Henry Ford printed 500,000 copies (renamed "The International Jew -- The Worlds Foremost Problem" so no one would be confused as to what was claimed) while also publishing antisemitic screeds in his Michigan newspaper. Ever since, "The Protocols" has been republished and sold by a variety of neo-Nazi, white supremacist, nationalist, and religious fundamentalist organizations, most notably, in repackaged form by the Nation of Islam (more on that below). It was sold by Walmart in the early 2000s, and continues to be sold on Amazon, where dozens of different versions are available. For a hundred years now, versions of this Jewish conspiracy have been at the core of not just overt antisemitism, but in conspiracy theories involving Illuminati, the New World Order (and other "one world government" conspiracies), Free Masons, Khazars, David Icke's reptile people, and on, and on. There is almost no conspiracy theory concerning secret government control that does not, at some point, connect to Jews.

(2) The role of the Nation of Islam in fostering antisemitism over the last quarter century. In a 1991 speech Leonard Jeffries (an African-American professor of Black Studies at the City College of NY) claimed that "rich Jews" financed and dominated the African slave trade (and, of course, also controlled the American film industry). Jeffries cited as a source "The Secret Relationship Between Blacks and Jews" (1991), published by the Nation of Islam (NOI, which is now aligned with the Church of Scientology -- antisemitism goes better with more generalized forms of abuse and idiocy). Mainstream scholars consider the book nonsense, with noted Harvard historian Henry Louis Gates Jr. labeling the book "the bible of new anti-Semitism" and adding that "the book massively misinterprets the historical record, largely through a process of cunningly selective quotations of often reputable sources." The NOI is officially recognized as an organized hate group by the Southern Poverty Law Center.

    This book, along with two new volumes, remains available on the official NOI website, along with numerous other antisemitic publications (here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here -- I'm sure I didn't catch them all). With at most around 50,000 adherents -- representing 0.12% of the African-American population -- NOI can seem insignificant, but their nine decade history, their high degree discipline and organization, and the fact that they often become involved with progressive causes and protests in the African-American community, give them outsized influence. NOI's quarter century of fostering a virulent variety of antisemitic narratives around Jewish control and exploitation of African-Americans, currently overwhelms any other historical tensions between African-Americans and Jews (which is usually facilely attributed to long-ago Jewish ownership of housing and businesses in African-American neighborhoods). Added on to the reality of a more generalized American antisemitism this can become particularly toxic.

(3) Israel and Zionism: All major mainstream American Jewish advocacy organizations (American Jewish Committee, Anti-Defamation League, American Jewish Congress, and American Israel Public Affairs Committee -- though this last one is more accurately viewed as an advocacy group for a foreign power), mainline synagogues, and local Jewish federations have increasingly, and intentionally, confounded antisemitism with critiques of Israel and advocacy for Palestinian rights. It is important to consider three examples I confronted in Seattle over the last 15 years.

    In April of 2002 I was working with the Church Council of Greater Seattle to organize a rally at Westlake opposing the ongoing war in Afghanistan and the possibility of war in Iraq. The rally was to have speakers on those topics, as well as on a variety of domestic and international human rights issues. The rally was scheduled for Saturday April 20. Some days prior to the rally we received a call at the Church Council from Rick Harkavy, the director of the American Jewish Committee chapter in Seattle. Harkavy warned us that April 20 was Adolf Hitlers birthday and that it would be inappropriate, and viewed as antisemitic, to have rally speakers criticize Israel. Before that day in 2002 I had never known when Hitler's birthday was, nor, as a Jew, could I ever imagine it being something I would care about. Harkavy's call went beyond "advisory": he made it clear that if Israel were criticized at the rally he would reach out to the media to make this issue public. I was shocked, but proceeded to organize the rally in ways that had already been planned. The day after the rally Harkavy was quoted in the Seattle Times saying "For people who claim to be progressives, to have a day in which they're highly critical and perhaps may also call ultimately for the destruction of the state of Israel on the same day as Hitler's birthday, I'm appalled" (Seattle Times, April 21, 2002, page B1). It was an egregious attempt to slander a rally for peace and justice -- there was, of course, no call for the destruction of Israel.

    In December of 2010 controversy erupted around already purchased and printed King County Metro Transit bus ads that said "Israeli War Crimes. Your Tax Dollars at Work" above a picture of a bombed Palestinian building. Metro Transit was deluged with complaints claiming the ads were antisemitic, and they received supposed threats of violence (virtually all of which were from local Jews who had provided a name and contact information with their threat). Days were spent at Metro Transit trying to insure that buses possibly carrying the ads would not pass by the Jewish Federation offices or any synagogues: it was considered obvious that these ads would be considered antisemitic and offensive to Jews. In the end, King County Executive Dow Constantine pulled the ads, citing both safety concerns and claims that these ads were offensive to Jews in the community.

http://www.thestranger.com/slog/archives/2011/03/23/a-jewish-man-investigates-king-countys-decision-to-censor-bus-ads

It remains uncertain why the bus ads were pulled, especially since my investigation revealed that almost all (rather minimal) threats came from known members of the local Jewish community and these threats were likely received after Dow Constantine made his decision to pull the ads. What is certain is that major local Jewish mainstream organizations put severe pressure on Constantine.

    This past January, House Joint Measure HJM 4009 was introduced into the Washington State legislature. This is (it was reintroduced into the special session on April 24) a bill condemning the movement for promoting boycotts, divestment, and sanctions (BDS) against Israel -- a movement using the only non-violent tool left to promote Palestinian civil rights -- as antisemitic. The bill contains outrageous statements such as "The international boycott, divestment, and sanctions movement is one of the main vehicles for spreading antisemitism and advocating the elimination of the Jewish state." Numerous local Democratic progressive state representatives have sponsored this bill. I talked to many of them: for non-Jewish representatives they felt they had to unquestionably support their Jewish colleagues at a time of rising antisemitism, and for Jewish representatives they felt there was no question that BDS, and much Palestinian civil rights advocacy, was inherently antisemitic. Both groups of  legislators came under pressure from mainstream Jewish advocacy organizations, organizations which clearly provided the language for this legislative measure (based on the extreme hyperbole of the language and the inability on any legislator to explain it). BDS, as a modern organized movement, has been around now for 15 years. The recent sudden increase in antisemitic incidents, along with other forms of racism, is 100% attributable to Donald Trump and the forces he has unleashed over the last two years, and 0% attributable to BDS.

   What the above three incidents have in common is obvious: a cynical abuse of the concept of antisemitism in order to protect a nation state from criticism. Attempts such as these have two disastrous consequences for those concerned with real antisemitism: (1) It confuses non-Jews as to what antisemitism is, as it confounds racism with beliefs based on human rights for Palestinians or anti-nationalism (or anti-colonialism, or anti-imperialism, etc.). It allows non-Jews to trivialize antisemitism as anything that goes against Jewish interests, buying into the antisemitic notion that Israeli and Jewish interests are identical; and (2) It fuels the widespread belief the Jews have inordinate control of economic and political systems: How else to explain such unwavering support for Israel? How else to explain the first time in over 35 years that bus ads were pulled by King County?

    By watering down and confusing the meaning of antisemitism, and by perpetuating the notion that "Jews get their way" (versus a narrow interest group that joins together Jewish nationalists, Christian Zionists, the arms industry, and geopolitical interests in the Middle East) these mainline Jewish organizations actually perpetuate antisemitism. They sacrifice the safety of Jews for the (mistaken) belief that they are helping preserve a nation state.

*    It is worth noting that Jewish over-representation in a field does not necessarily correlate with control by individuals, nor does it correlate with some imagined group control. For example, in prior years at the Georgetown University School of Medicine, a Roman Catholic (Jesuit) school, a notably disproportionate number of department heads are Jewish, yet they are the ones who will often implement Catholic ethical directives (e.g., avoiding talking about or training in abortion services) the most zealously. Similarly, as Jews became dominant in Hollywood they would often carry out the majoritarian agenda of anti-communism, racism, portraying America as a Christian country, etc. It is a common phenomena throughout history that minority group members that achieve success often advocate more zealously for the majoritarian agenda.

    It is also worth noting another curious consequence of this myth of Jewish over-representation and supposed control. The stereotype focuses on the entertainment and banking industries, yet completely ignores the area of greatest Jewish over-representation: Nobel prize winners, where 22% are Jewish despite only being 0.21% of the world population, 105 times the expected rate. You can stoke people's fears by imagining Jews controlling monetary systems, but it's hard to be scared of scientific discoveries that save lives and actually help explain how the world really works.

                                                            #####

[automatismoateo]

The other day I argued with my mom when she claimed that the acceptance of LGBT people is leading to the decay of society and the acceptance of pedophilia. (This is a stupidly long angst-addled rant). via /r/atheism

Submitted July 22, 2018 at 05:54AM by GemRocking (Via reddit https://ift.tt/2LDN1Rl) The other day I argued with my mom when she claimed that the acceptance of LGBT people is leading to the decay of society and the acceptance of pedophilia. (This is a stupidly long angst-addled rant).

I wasn’t going to write this post; I try to be self-sufficient and not get easily “triggered,” but some things just make me frustrated, angry, anxious, and sad. I had this conversation with my mom the other day and it’s been bugging me ever since, and I want to vent here where people are actually fucking sane. I’ll try not to be long-winded and just recollect the main things that happened.

Important context Mom is a mental health professional. So she won’t change her mind on anything because 1) the Word of Gawd says 2) she knows what she’s talking about, fuck you.

Another thing is that I myself have a preference for the same sex. I know that every third kid in my generation does, or says they do. I have a lot of shame over it because I’ve been taught that LGBT people are stupid, confused, hell-bound perverts.

My mom actually knows about my same-sex attractions, and at one point I’d told her about some of my religious unbelief—namely that I questioned the existence of God and divinity of the Bible. But I’ve started lying to her in recent months because of how tense and painful our relationship got, and because I’m in a Christian academic program that requires really rigorous statements of faith and I don’t want my parents to know how good of a liar I am.

TL;DR Mom mentioned a TED talk she’d recently seen about how pedophilic relationships should be accepted and embraced by society. She claimed that we were going down a dangerous path now that LGBT stuff is legal and widely accepted. Argument ensued.

Disclaimer I know I’m ranting about my mom here, and I do feel kind of bad about that. I’m going to do my best to be respectful to her (not necessarily respectful towards her beliefs or the way she expresses them). I don’t want to sound condescending, and she told me repeatedly the other day that I was being puffed-up and acting like I knew everything. As a teen, I know that I’m prone to be big-headed and I just don’t want to come off that way. Also bear in mind that this is completely from my own perspective, so it’s bound to be very biased, and I haven’t processed this conversation with anyone else.

Memory

Mom mentioned a TED talk she’d recently seen about how pedophilic relationships should be accepted and embraced by society. She claimed that we were going down a dangerous path now that LGBT stuff is legal and widely accepted. I challenged this idea (don’t remember what I said, just that I questioned if embracing homosexuality leads to pedophilia).

The conversation kind of went in circles. Here’s something you need to know about religious people: they don’t see things distinctly. Everything that’s a sin is just “degeneracy;” it’s all one and the same, it all ties into itself. No distinctions can be made. She wouldn’t accept my argument that distinct moral differences can be drawn between homosexuality and pedophilia based off of how it affects the parties involved, i.e. that in pedophilia, one of the parties is always at a disadvantage and is objectively damaged.

My head’s so full of the shit that went down in this conversation that I think the best way to organize what happened next is a bullet list; whenever I’m trying to recreate something Mom actually said, I’ll italicize it.

When I tried to say that embracing LGBT stuff won’t lead to pedophilia because there are distinct moral differences between homosexuality and pedophilia, she scoffed and said that they’re the same: they’re both sexual sin and perversion. Then she said that it’s a slippery slope, because she’s been around for so many years. “When I was a kid, homosexuality was heard of, but there were hardly any homosexuals. Now 75% of the population is confused. We’ve embraced all kinds of disgusting things.”

“Now if you’re a man that thinks you’re a woman, a woman that thinks you’re a man, a man that wants to wear silky women’s underwear, you can march around in the street and do it! You can have a whole parade to celebrate it and do it in the town square!”

“Now that people think that we just ‘love who we love,’ they’ll say that people are born pedophiles and they deserve ‘equal rights.’ Homosexuality used to be illegal, and now it’s all legal and encouraged.”

“And all this horrible pornography didn’t exist when I was a kid. The acceptance of this is leading to more and more depravity.” When I asked if she had any evidence that pornography leads to pedophilia, she said, “There’s evidence that it leads to all kinds of shit!” I asked if there was evidence that it leads to anything specific, and instead of directly addressing the point, she got really angry and threw out this complete red herring: “You want me to say specific things in front of your brother?? You want me to? There’s evidence that it leads to sex with siblings, sex with animals, sex with objects, sex with children—everything!”

She claimed that homosexuality should still be classed as “homophilia” in the DSM. I asked her why, asked if it met the criteria for a mental illness, and she came up with some pious Christian bullshit before saying that it causes distress. I asked her for evidence that homosexuality causes distress, and she said, “Are you kidding me? Look at the suicide rate among those people! Yes, they’re miserable.” I asked if the suicide rate is high definitively because they are homosexual, and I got, “Yes!” Case closed, I guess.

I asked if she had any evidence that the acceptance of LGBT stuff is leading to the acceptance of pedophilia, and she staged the following argument: the TED talk was recorded and aired, and thus, people accepted it. I pointed out the flaw in this reasoning, and she said, “It doesn’t matter! It was allowed to happen, and it would have never been allowed before!” I suggested that perhaps the rise of the Internet and the huge number of platforms to publish opinions on could be a factor here, as previously in history, the media has been much more monopolized and such a wide range of ideas might not have been allowed to air. “No, that’s stupid, [Gem]! It wasn’t published because there are more options now, it was published because we’re morally corrupted! You’re being ridiculous.” I hate to admit that this stung a bit, because I thought I had a pretty good point there, even though I’m aware that many other factors effected the press historically.

She pulled up a study on the overlap between homosexual males and pedophilic males, claiming that homosexuality causes pedophilia because of this study, and she mocked me when I questioned whether there could be other causes for this overlap.

She concluded this trainwreck of an argument by saying, “There: I have ‘evidence’ right here for you—the TED talk exists, it was made and recorded and released. I’ve pulled up a study. You have no evidence.”

Conclusion

During this debate, she played the parent/age card a lot. “I’ve been around on this earth and seen how the world has changed; you’re only arguing this because you don’t know a time when the world isn’t so depraved.” She also called me “little girl” at one point; I think she’d said something like “You think you know everything, little girl, but you don’t.” She also said, “I’m really disappointed in you; I thought you’d gotten over this. I’m disappointed that your views on this are so worldly.” I thought I’d kept this discussion really tame—I never questioned it when she cited the Bible as evidence for her arguments, and I let a lot of bullshit slide. She also asked why I was defending homosexuality, even though I danced on eggshells to be sure I wasn’t too pro-gay or whatever. Apparently pointing out that homosexuality and pedophilia are on very different tiers is equal to defending homosexuality.

I guess it hurt my feelings a bit, in one respect, because she knows that I’m same-sex attracted, yet she still goes around saying that LGB people are mentally ill, that homosexuality should be illegal, and that they’re as wicked as pedophiles and murderers. I think maybe she’s trying to shame me into turning straight or something. It’s not like this is the first time she’s said any of this, by the way—she consistently reiterates these views.

I feel like she discredits me unfairly. I feel like I’m a lot more capable of discussing these topics than my authorities allow for. But again, that’s likely teenage angst and Marilyn Manson my idol talking. What pisses me off about a lot of these conversations is that she occasionally speaks brazenly of sexual things that I’m not allowed to reference explicitly because I’m a kid. So I just have to be quiet while she talks and pretend I’m shocked and disgusted by what she’s describing.

And maybe this is also my teen angst and big-headedness talking, but I felt that this discussion was pretty unfair. I know that adults have wisdom that children don’t, but her “I’ve been around longer than you” and “You don’t know anything, little girl” bullshit felt more like a silencing tactic than anything. I know she’s superior to me in most ways because she’s grown up, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t think for myself. That doesn’t mean I have to always go along with her beliefs. It doesn’t mean I can’t form opinions about the way things were in the past or how things have evolved over time just because I wasn’t there to personally experience it—I’d even argue that I might have a better-rounded opinion of past decades than many people who lived through them because I’ve read about them in a more all-encompassing way, while they experienced decades through their own neighborhoods and upbringings.

I’m too fragile for this. Like I said, I try to be thick-skinned, but sometimes these conversations strike me at the wrong time. I ended up in a suicidal spin, I scratched myself up and cried for a good twenty minutes. Sometimes I feel really trapped; this ridiculous homeschooled Christian conservative environment feels so fucking suffocating at times, where I can’t even express a pretty moderate opinion about how homosexuality is morally different than pedophilia without upsetting people. And I know I’ll have to fight tooth and nail to get out of this place. My parents want me to go to a local Christian college and live at home with them until I’m like 20. They want me to marry a man and raise children near to them. They want me to do something God-honoring with my life. But I have to deal with knowing that I’m not who the fuck they think I am, and I can’t live that life; I’ll either have to go through hell to become independent and be myself, or I’ll die. Then I think that none of this is legit; I’m just a whiny, entitled, rich American teenager that doesn’t know how to deal with life or be a decent, productive human being because I’m constantly succumbing to my own angst and throwing pity parties.

I guess I learned my lesson: shut up and agree with my authorities externally, think for myself in secret. Anyway, I apologize for being so wordy, but I had a lot to get off my chest. Thanks for sticking around, if you made it through. Love y’all. Satan curse.

#reddit

[brianwarden]

Gad the Islamophobe

I recently listened to an episode of Sam Harris's excellent podcast "Waking Up" that featured as his guest Gad Saad, someone who's own podcast is another favorite of mine; I highly recommend both. Both Harris and Saad are academics/scientists/public figures who are highly critical of recent trends regarding free speech, postmodernism, tolerance, political correctness, and “regressive leftism”.

 That term, which I first heard used by Muslim reformer Maajid Nawaz, refers to those ostensibly on the left, that often engage in regressive tactics, principally anti free speech bullying. Regressives are in the vanguard of extreme political correctness, commonly complaining about "cultural appropriation", the wage gap, patriarchy, Islamophobia, etc. For instance, in many a college campus it has become common for regressive's to target visiting speakers, show up at the event, and attempt to silence said speaker. This is often done by blocking entrance to the event, harassing attendees, rushing the stage, and in more than one instance, pulling fire alarms.

 So I am a big fan of Harris and Saad, as well as their comrades in arms Christine Hoff Sommers, Dave Rubin, Joe Rogan, Bill Maher, Sarah Haider, Jon Haidt, and several others. I consider myself a liberal, but am embarrassed by what many of the same label are currently doing: silencing opposing views, demonizing all white men, creating safe spaces, trigger warnings, and micro aggressions; what I prefer to call the PC left. I guess I meet the definition of a classical liberal, of the John Stuart Mill mold, but the semantics of political labels have become very muddled lately.

 As hinted above, I'm not a fan of the term "Islamophobia". Not that I think it's a meaningless term, just that it's over used to the point of becoming virtually meaningless. Any criticism of Islam is characterized as Islamophobic by the regressive left, even the most obvious. E.g. criticisms of Islam's treatment of women or gays are labeled Islamophobia, even by feminists and gays within the regressive left. A legitimate usage of the term Islamophobia, in my view, would be towards someone who refers to “ragheads” or “sand n**gers” or wants to turn the entire Middle East in to glass or prohibit all immigration from countries with a Muslim majority; that's Islamophobia, no question. All I'm saying is that the term is thrown around a lot.

 As in the case of the term homophobia, the "phobia" part isn't precisely accurate. The definition of a phobia is "an extreme or irrational fear of, or aversion to something." Most homophobes aren't actually scared of gays, they just hate them. Same for Islamophobia, except with Islam there is an element of fear; terrorism is real, and its biggest practitioners presently are Muslim.

 Harris himself has often been (mis)labeled as an Islamophobe and even a bigot, but these charges are without merit. I've read all of his books and essays, listened to every podcast, watched countless videos, and have never yet heard a single comment that could be accurately described as bigoted. He's as harsh towards Christianity as he is towards Islam.

 Until I listened to his podcast entitled "The Frontiers of Political Correctness" I would've said the same of Saad. Saad's own personal story is very interesting and gives his views and opinions some weight. "I was born in Lebanon, I grew up in Lebanon, so my mother tongue is Arabic, we're Arabic in a multiplicity of ways...some of the music we listen to, and the foods, and if you saw us you wouldn’t know that we were anything but Arabic, the only asterisk is that we are Lebanese Jews" (40:55).

 He states he has over 100 Muslim friends. Later, he claims that in his neighborhood, if he encounters 20 women, 8 will be wearing Islamic garb. In Montreal. "I could walk out of my house, and of the first twenty women I see, eight are wearing Islamic garb" (1:21:30). (I call bullshit. 40% of the women he encounters in Montreal are Muslim?)

 But where he gets real bizarre, and makes Rush Limbaugh seem tolerant, is when he describes an incident that occurred while out with his family:

 "Close to my house, we tried to go to a children's park, and saw two women in full burka, my daughter got out, felt a bit scared, we got back in the car and left" (1:21:00).

 Covered faces are indeed to some extent frightening. Armed robbers in ski masks, clowns, ninjas, little old Korean ladies hiding their skin from UV, KKK hoods, soldiers lined up all in gas masks; all scary looking, no question. But flee the park in fear?

 Is there some right, some principle of liberty, that entitles one to gaze in to the face of all fellow citizens in order to better read them and their intentions? As Harris wisely responds, perhaps on private property one has such a right, say a 7-11 owner in reaction to someone in a ski mask. Absolutely, I agree completely. But out on the streets, in a public park? No way. No such right has ever existed in the West, nor do I know of anyone ever proposing such an idea.

 But Gad's daughters’ reaction at the playground leads me to wonder just what the fuck is Gad telling his kids at home? I mean, worse-case scenario, there is a Muslim male under the burka, right? What would be his families’ reaction if there were Muslim males there at the park, perhaps even taking prayer? Flee?

 It is not an overstatement, nor PC in the slightest, to state that Gad Saad and his family are literally Islamophobic, to the point that genuine fear, and flight, occurs when spotting Muslims. Never mind that he previously said, "Your chances of dying by murder in Canada is unbelievably small" (52:15). This is certainly true. In all of Canada, there were 19 violent acts towards Jews in 2014, the most current year for stats, resulting in zero deaths; yet, an average of 9.5 people die each year in Canada by lightning strikes.

 He also said several other things during the podcast that are troublesome to say the least. For example, he revisits this traumatic trip to the park, and expands on his theory of a “right to see [people’s faces]”:

 "If your position is that, no, let's not intrude on their right to quote choose, I actually think that my right to be able to read your facial features, since that's an evolved quality, in my communication system, supersedes your right to be in a tent, and if you want to be in a tent you don't belong here because I want to be, when I walk to that school yard, not school yard, but play park, and there were two, I'm guessing women but they could be anything right, I can't tell who they are, and they were in black and we all froze, and I come from that land [Lebanon] and my daughter got scared and we got back in the car, then my rights lost there. And therefore, no, I don't think we should allow that expression. No, I don't want that in my streets" [emphasis added] (1:42:05).

 Perhaps it’s good Gad resides in Canada. That viewpoint regarding religious expression won’t fly in the states. His right to read faces? Because the ability to read faces evolved in humans, it’s now a right? That’s not how we set out rights. Later, he seems to be claiming that he simply can’t prevent himself from stereotyping and acting on it:

 "No one probably knows more nice and decent Muslims, probably no one has more Muslim friends than I do by virtue of my background, so obviously at the individual level there's no discussion to be had, there are very nice Muslims, there are very bad Muslims, we're talking here about statistical regularity's, right, our brains have evolved to detect statistical regularity's [stereotypes], I mean that's a central feature in the architecture of the human mind” (51:29).

 Or check out this gem from the “Gadfather”:

 "There's a game that I satirize, but frankly the satire is very accurate, it's called 'Six Degrees of Kill the Jew' and the game works as follows: so basically, the way the game works is, Achmed comes to the room, I say hello to him, how many exchanges does it take before we converge - especially since I speak Arabic and therefore he certainly doesn't know I'm Jewish - before we both converge on 'let's go kill the Jews'. And the reality is, this is how it typically goes: 'Hi Achmed, how are you? Fine, let's kill the Jews’" (1:13:40).

 Then, a minute later, he admits the above stereotype is mythical: "Of the top 100 Muslims that I know, every single one of them is a lovely guy that doesn't fill the 'kill-the-Jews' stereotype, but that doesn't say anything about the greater issue" (1:15:00).

 He seems to have some issues. He is simultaneously claiming: the odds of being murdered in Canada are “unbelievably small”; that his family is not outwardly Jewish looking, “if you saw us you wouldn't know that we were anything but Arabic”; that he knows lots of Muslims and none of them are anti-Semitic; yet, if burkas are spotted, FLEE!

 In the novel Infinite Jest, there’s an organization called U.H.I.D., the Union of the Hideously and Improbably Deformed, an agnostic-style 12-step support-group deal for what it calls the “aesthetically challenged.” It’s a hilarious portion of the book, with a pretty absurd premise, and is milked for some great laughs*. But beyond this comedic “donning of the veil” is a more serious issue, albeit one most of us haven’t considered. Does one have a right to hide one’s face?

 Although it’s not enumerated in the Bill of Rights, I believe a person has the right to cover their face in public. For any reason whatsoever. I see little old ladies covering themselves out of fear of sunlight. I see germaphobic people wearing masks out of fear of germs. And, of course, religious people doing what their religion tells them, or what they interpret their religion to be telling them. Given the extreme importance the Founding Fathers put on religious liberty and expression, I think those values trump anyone’s desire to read faces.

 I tried to raise this subject with the man himself, via twitter, and was quickly attacked, by Gad as well as many of his followers. He used his stock insult on me, “naturally lobotomized castrati”, and mocked my curiosity on the matter. E.g. I wrote that I found his family’s reaction to seeing burkas “baffling”; he responds with: “It is ‘baffling’ why it would be jarring to see individuals wearing black tents in a play ground with hidden identities”. He goes on: “Clearly, only ‘racist bigots’ would be concerned about such an ostentatious display of openness and warmth.” Thou doth protest too much.

 In the wake of Charlottesville, I’m noticing something quite alarming: many of the folks that I considered to be basically liberals, but have a major problem with the PC left, are not liberal at all; they’re as conservative as Rush Limbaugh and just enjoy mocking and ridiculing campus snowflakes. The reaction to Harris’ tweet of August 13th, regarding white identity politics, exposed many of these folks. I don’t put Gad in the category of Limbaugh, but he’s got a dark side that’s for sure.

 ___________________________________________

  * “Well Mr. Gately what people don’t get about being hideously or improbably deformed is that the urge to hide is offset by a gigantic sense of shame about your urge to hide. You’re at a graduate wine-tasting party and improbably deformed and you’re the object of stares that the people try to conceal because they’re ashamed of wanting to stare, and you want nothing more than to hide from the covert stares, to erase your difference, to crawl under the tablecloth or put your face under your arm, or you pray for a power failure and for this kind of utter liberating equalizing darkness to descend so you can be reduced to nothing but a voice among other voices, invisible, equal, no different, hidden.

 But Don you’re still a human being, you still want to live, you crave connection and society, you know intellectually that you’re no less worthy of connection and society than anyone else simply because of how you appear, you know that hiding yourself away out of fear of gazes is really giving in to a shame that is not required and that will keep you from the kind of life you deserve as much as the next girl, you know that you can’t help how you look but that you are supposed to be able to help how much you care about how you look. You’re supposed to be strong enough to exert some control over how much you want to hide, and you’re so desperate to feel some kind of control that you settle for the appearance of control. What you do is you hide your deep need to hide, and you do this out of the need to appear to other people as if you have the strength not to care how you appear to others. You stick your hideous face right in there into the wine-tasting crowd’s visual meatgrinder, you smile so wide it hurts and put out your hand and are extra gregarious and outgoing and exert yourself to appear totally unaware of the facial struggles of people who are trying not to wince or stare or give away the fact that they can see that you’re hideously, improbably deformed. You feign acceptance of your deformity. You take your desire to hide and conceal it under a mask of acceptance. In other words you hide your hiding. And you do this out of shame: you’re ashamed of the fact that you want to hide from sight. You’re ashamed of your uncontrolled craving for shadow. U.H.I.D.’s First Step is admission of powerlessness over the need to hide. U.H.I.D. allows members to be open about their essential need for concealment. In other words we don the veil. We don the veil and wear the veil proudly and stand very straight and walk briskly wherever we wish, veiled and hidden, and but now completely up-front and unashamed about the fact that how we appear to others affects us deeply, about the fact that we want to be shielded from all sight. U.H.I.D. supports us in our decision to hide openly. But a lot of the forms of self-hatred there is no veil for. U.H.I.D.’s taught a lot of us to be grateful that there’s at least a veil for our form.”

 “So the veil’s a way to not hide it.?”

 “To hide openly, is more like it.”

 From Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace

[NOTE: I fully realize there is a false equivalence between the people featured in the attached pic and two burka clad women at a playground; the point is, all the people in the pic are violating Gad’s imaginary right to read faces. (Btw, the woman in full burka is Janet Jackson and son.)]