5 Major Classes of RNA
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Related to my tags on the Irish American reblog, how long have bastardized "Celtic" crosses been neo-Nazi symbols? I wasn't aware of this stupid use until I was an adult and my father was equally unaware until I learned about it, and in our Celtic (American) Pride we often used Celtic cross imagery in decor and accessories. Granted these usually did resemble actually woven/knotted crosses (which by no means meant they were authentic. At best a few came from local Celtic Pride fests–which as I said in those tags was plagued by Confederate and Nazi imagery), but most of them came from like JoAnn's or Michael's or Walmart whenever Saint Paddy's Day rolled around. That said, the woven pattern of a Celtic cross is a bitch to draw especially when you have yet to nurture or be nurtured in any art skills, so when my borderline-Gothic ass would doodle graveyards in my school notebooks I would often doodle simplified Celtic crosses as grave markers, which unfortunately just meant a simple cross with a simple circle in it, unfortunately reminiscent of the neo-Nazi symbol.
Me and my family were staunchly Indiana liberals (to be fair that wasn't that shocking in our democrat enclave city) and have only become more leftist as time goes on, so those who knew me well would know I didn't mean anything by it, but like I have to wonder/worry that those who didn't know me well (like most of my classmates. I was pretty lonely in high school) or people who would briefly visit my home or come across us while we were wearing Celtic pins that day or something came away with the wrong impression. I'm especially dismayed at the thought that the kids I knew to be actual neo-Nazis might thought I was one of them
For the record I left school in like twenty eleven and had been doodling graveyards for years and wearing Celtic imagery for even longer. I can't really find out when the "Celtic" cross became a dogwhistle
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The DNA of Success in AAA Game Studio Productions
3D graphics and animation are the most important, but 2D graphics also play an important role in conveying story elements and gameplay mechanics.
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Not So Imaginary
Parts 1-3
cw: Ethiopia, nightmares, medical care, non-graphic torture
Bruce had a file on Jason’s “imaginary” friend already, of course he did, but now it was being handled in a different light. Now it was being handled as facts. There was a theory, that Jason didn’t want to think too hard about, that Shelia had been able to see the Jason’s friend because they shared the same DNA.
(She wasn’t his mother, no matter the DNA.)
When Jason was well enough to sit and talk, they went through the file, occurrence by occurrence. When the file ran out— when Jason had stopped telling them about his friend— Jason had a lot more talking to do. The problem was, the more he was awake to talk, the more he worried about the fact that he hadn’t seen his friend.
He picked at the worry like a scab, constantly fussing over it out of worry. It didn’t go unnoticed.
“Maybe they’re not around because we’re around you more,” Dick said, prattling on like he did. “Or they used up a lot of energy! They did go all the way to Ethiopia. They could even still be traveling back.”
They were all good enough reasons, Jason supposed, but Jason wasn’t convinced so despite Dick’s effort, Jason stayed worried. Then he grew despondent. Then the nightmares changed.
Jason’s dreams had been uneasy since Ethiopia. His therapist said that was to be expected.
Some nights they were horrifying.
This was a different sort of horrifying.
This wasn’t his nightmares of being beat, endlessly, by that crowbar. Of Joker’s laughter. Of Shelia’s cold stare. The place he dreamed of wasn’t a warehouse but a facility. The cold eyes were hidden behind face shields. The pain was sharp and cutting.
Jason woke up screaming and knowing that the dream wasn’t his.
“They’re being tortured,” Jason mumbled into Bruce’s side after the tremors had faded and they all had calmed. They were piled in Bruce’s massive bed. Bruce still had his fingers against Jason’s pulse, Dick was gripping Jason’s ankle, and Jason didn’t even fight the nasal canal of oxygen.
“Little Wing?”
“It’s why they’re not here. I saw it in my dream. I know…” Jason had to close his eyes and focus on breathing for a little bit before he could continue. “I know how it sounds, but that wasn’t my dream. It was theirs. I know it was. They can… they always know when I’m in danger, is it crazy to think it works both ways?”
Bruce did that sigh of his, the one he did when he had too much in his head and needed to set it aside. “No, Jaylad, it’s not crazy. If you’re up for it chum, we’ll go to the Watchtower today and have J’onn see if he can sense any sort of telepathic connection.”
“And if he does? If they’re being hurt?”
“Then we’ll save them.”
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AN: This story has turned very mean lol sorry. But! Danny soon? Still a very little bit, writing is a struggle atm with this week long migraine, but! It's something. Stay delightful, darlings.
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