#pointless apparatus

[hedgehog-moss]

Look, friends.

Do you think this is a post about my adorable baby succulents? No. Look harder.

It's about the GIANT HOLE IN MY FENCE that I had to patch up with cardboard.

I can't blame Pampérigouste for this one; the brutish nature of the damage is not consistent with her usual modus operandi. Pampe outsmarts locks like Arsène Lupin; she doesn't charge at fences like a bull who saw a red cloth. This is Pampe Pondering A Fence Problem:

No, the damage to my fence looked a lot more mindless this time. Boorish. Boar-ish. I'm blaming a boar. A deer would have destroyed the whole thing rather than just the lower half. Note that there is not a single tuft of llama wool on the damaged wire mesh.

(Note no.2: the boar's smile was originally meant to be a tusk but it really just looks like a sardonic smile)

I brought some chicken wire to patch up the hole—but there wasn't enough of it. Then it started raining and I felt persecuted and decided to just cover the hole with cardboard and go have my morning coffee and get back to this later.

This is not an Innocent Pampe post; there is no such thing. My temporary cardboard solution lasted 8 to 10 minutes. I'm not sure exactly when she got out, but by the time I went back outside to repair the fence there was a Pampe-shaped hole in the cardboard.

(Not really; she just kind of lifted or ate a corner then wormed her way through the very small opening. I think.) (See, this is how you recognise a Pampe escape: you're not entirely clear on what went down, you just know there was a llama inside and now there is a llama outside.)

It was still raining and I didn't feel like going after her, plus it felt pointless to bring her back in her pasture before the fence was repaired, so I went in the barn to look for my tools and rummage through leftover pieces of previously-destroyed fences, hoping to find something the right size.

Then I heard Pampelune's hyena shriek, aka the llama alarm call. It was followed by:

horrified chicken screams and frantic feather noises; the soundtrack of a violent fox attack

infuriated barking from Pandolf

very loud panicked braying from Pirlouit

basically, chaos.

I ran outside just in time to see Pampe emerging from the woods at a full gallop, pursued by a bear. I didn't immediately identify the animal that was chasing her as the giant dog that he was, because he was running with a weird gait, with his legs going everywhere like he was frolicking at top speed (I now know that this dog is a puppy that has learnt to run just a few months ago, but that didn't occur to me at the time because this puppy is the size of a calf.)

Pampe was running towards the cardboard through which she had escaped and she managed to squeeze through her small corner hole again (I assume—there were trees blocking my line of sight and I only saw her again once she was in the pasture, running for her life along with the other 2 llamas + donkey.) Meanwhile, the dog didn't see the corner hole and tried to power through the cardboard much like a boar, or was carried away by his momentum and didn't brake in time; I don't know. In any case, when I reached him, he was stuck.

My large piece of cardboard was tied to the fence posts and still holding strong, but the middle was a bit soggy with rain and not too solid, so the dog's head went right through it. The rest of his body didn't.

He could have probably finished breaking the cardboard quite easily, but for some reason he instantly gave up. On life. By the time I got there the dog was half-in and half-out of the pasture and he looked defeated. Which made my piece of cardboard look like a mediaeval beheading apparatus with just a hole for the head.

I went to lock an angry Pandolf in the barn and checked on the chickens along the way (ruffled & offended but fine); I was hoping the dog would figure out how to extricate his head from the cardboard in the meantime. He did not. I tried to call him in a friendly tone (from behind) to encourage him to free his head by stepping back, but the concept of taking a couple of steps backwards in order to extract his head from the hole might as well have been advanced engineering. He clearly had no idea where his head was, where his body was, how to make the two a coherent whole again, and he started whining pitifully.

I untied the rope I had used to attach the cardboard to the fence posts, then wriggled the piece of cardboard a bit to try and free the dog's head. The dog was alarmed by the wriggling and took several steps back—but I didn't manage to hold on to the cardboard so it just moved with the dog. He clumsily ran away, taking the cardboard with him, wearing it around his neck like the world's largest cone of shame.

He immediately got stuck between two trees.

I was starting to find the situation hilarious, but the poor dog did not—he lay down and started making sad broken noises like a malfunctioning dog-robot. He didn't look very threatening but he was still a very big (and stressed) dog so I felt a bit wary of touching his head to help him, and decided to run home to get a box cutter. I figured I could easily rid him of most of the cardboard and leave him with just a soggy cardboard collar that would soon fall apart. I heard my landline phone ringing from afar and ran faster, and it was one of my nearest neighbours, the retired lady who lives on the plateau.

"I've been trying to reach you!! I saw your llama in my garden earlier, I was going to give her a little treat—" (she loves Pampe, for some reason) "—but then my dog saw her too."

I know this woman's dog—he's a tiny thing with fragile nerves who thinks the whole world is out to get him, so I asked anxiously, "Did Pampe scare your dog?" and she said "Oh no! Domino is here with me; but I have a new dog. His name is Texas."

I thought of the gigantic puppy currently sobbing in my woods, held prisoner by two trees, a self-inflicted cone of shame and his total lack of reasoning skills.

"Yes", I said. "I've met Texas."

The old lady asked worriedly if he'd scared Pampe ("Il est un peu zinzin" she said—he's a bit crazy. "I wanted to call him Rex, but then I met him and thought—Texas!!") I told her I was pleased with her dog for scaring Pampe, because she needs to learn that her pasture is her only hope for safety in this cold uncaring world and as soon as she steps out of it she returns to her lowly status as a prey animal. Then I ended the phone call because I was worried both about Texas and about the large hole in my fence. Thankfully all my animals were still terrified and hiding far, far away from Texas.

Texas actually managed to free himself before I attempted to cut the cardboard, but he still thought of me as his saviour and was very happy to follow me through the woods back to his owner's place. Before we left I propped up the cardboard against the damaged fence, and despite the hole in the middle no llamas escaped in my absence; I think the whole area still smelled like Texas and fear.

I'll admit I was initially tempted to leave Texas with his head stuck in the cardboard in a more permanent capacity in order to patch the hole in my fence with this amazing anti-Pampe Cerberus. Like this

(I know this artistic rendering makes my llamas look like frightened carrots and my donkey like a bunny but I will not be taking constructive criticism at this time)

#crawling along #llama drama #i spent an hour at his owner's place eating biscuits and being told all the reasons why texas is ''a bit zinzin'' #for example he runs away to the nearest farm to steal the cow feed (pellets) at feeding time #he was caught red-pawed by the farmer and just. stole the entire plastic tub that contained the pellets #and ran back home. holding this very large tub in his mouth and sprinkling cow feed everywhere along the way #this time around his owner must have feared he would come home dragging a bag with pampe inside or something

[qqueenofhades]

How accurate is the ‘medieval peasants worked less then we do today’ statement? I looked it up because I find it very hard to believe, but had trouble making sense of it since history is not my strong point.

The answer to this is complicated, and represents a lot of (indeed, often erroneous) assumptions about past and present alike. Either the past is presented as a terrible place where everyone was miserable and dirty and assaulted all the time, or as an essentially more idyllic and pastoral place where people didn't have to contend with capitalism, credit scores, minimum wages, underpaid work, and all the other onerous apparatus of the modern economic system. Of course, neither the excessively bad or the excessively good version is true, and usually reveals more about the point that the modern debate wants to make, rather than anything to do with history itself.

First, I would like to note that the whole "all non-king medieval people were peasants" stereotype likewise really grinds my gears, and it is often presented uncritically in claims of this type, clearly intended to draw a parallel between overworked medieval people and overworked modern people. Which is fine, but again, not entirely accurate. As should be obvious to anyone who thinks about it for two seconds, medieval society consisted of all kinds of people and all kinds of occupations, both skilled and unskilled. Like, who do y'all think built the cathedrals? A bunch of random grain harvesters from nearby Podunkville? There were brute laborers who pushed wheelbarrows and hauled stones and etc, but there were also highly educated architects and engineers, who knew how to do things like make sure Durham Cathedral would minutely adjust over hundreds of years to the boggy ground it was built on, and not just fall down. There were master artisans, masons, glassworkers, sculptors, carpenters, etc etc. (See the creator of a recent "medieval" Netflix show claiming that medieval people had no use for art and me wanting to kick him like a football into the stratosphere). In towns, there were merchants, brewers, embroiderers, greengrocers, butchers, bakers, everything else you need to run a basic local economy. There were soldiers and mercenaries and other military occupations, which became increasingly professionalized throughout the medieval era and not just a matter of recruiting the local guys from down the road. There were priests and clerics and an extensive church bureaucracy. There were academics and professors and scholars and writers. Etc etc etc.

Anyway, the point is that when you're talking about medieval peasants, you're probably referring to the people who lived in largely rural or agrarian environments and made their living primarily from subsistence farming and animal husbandry for a landlord. Obviously, they did work hard in physically grueling occupations (though they were generally not malnourished and starving, as I have written about before, except in years of bad famine or crop failure, and then their wealthier employers would suffer too, because they all existed in the same material goods universe, whereas the rich and poor are millions of miles apart today). Their wages were often low, and even in the absolute worst of the Black Death’s first wave in 1349, King Edward III of England issued the Statute of Pleading that attempted to keep wages down and prevent peasants from negotiating for higher rates, even in the middle of a literal fucking apocalyptic plague and crushing labor shortage. (He was ultimately not successful). Widespread discontent with the exploitation of the peasantry, the crushing tax rates to fund pointless foreign wars, and other oh-hey-that-sounds-familiar problems led to the Peasants' Revolt in 1381, and the widespread popularity of the Lollards, a social and religious reform movement who criticised the static hierarchy and endemic inequality of medieval European society. So there were obviously some of the same problems as there are today, especially in regard to economic inequality and systemic oppression, and medieval peasants, far from being stupid sheep who just put their heads down and took it, were just as involved in trying to organise movements and protests to change it.

However, medieval peasants did not exist in global capitalism (obviously) and thus both their work and the reason for it was different. This was before the Protestant Ethic of the late 19th/early 20th century, that explicitly linked religious salvation with hard work in the capitalist system. Martin Luther bitched about indulgences so much because it was an accepted system to just pay the church something and be like "okay I'm good, I can kick back and not worry about it." (The medieval Catholic church had many, MANY problems, but the fact that Luther is so often presented as the "good guy" heroically saving these lazy dissolute people tells you all you need to know about how Protestant triumphalism informs Western historiography). In 1215, at the Fourth Lateran Council, Pope Innocent III had to issue an explicit degree to order people to go to church or take communion more than once a year, which he would not have had to do if they were all mindlessly devoted zealots who spent every waking moment there. Medieval people liked to sleep late and chill out on Sunday, just like modern people do now.

Obviously, religion was a more explicit and structured part of their lives than it generally is now, but sometimes the "medieval people worked less" argument is presented as the all-powerful and Machiavellian church craftily providing the people with a lot of public holidays so they didn't revolt against them. As noted, medieval people complained about and ignored and rebelled against the church anyway, and anyone who ever tells me that they were all uniform and brainwashed and always accepted the Catholic church's view on things needs to read one (1) book on the 13th century. Besides, the church just never had that level of total control over society anyway, and this presumes that everything they did was in deliberate bad faith solely to preserve their secular/social power -- which, while secular/social power was also often at stake, is likewise a wildly simplistic misreading of how things actually worked, and what the church actually wanted to do.

There were indeed a lot of public holidays, both religious (i.e. saints' days) and folk (Lammastide, the harvest, Celtic festivals, etc), where people weren't expected to work, and/or to go to church instead. As noted re: Pope Innocent and his struggles in this department, this was often not necessarily the case. There were also ordinary community holidays like house-raisings, weddings, christenings, Christmas, etc etc., where people could (and did) often have a good time for days. There were fairs, tournaments, carnivals, markets, and other opportunities for leisure or to attend entertainment events. So it certainly wasn't the case that peasants were always slaving away with no respite, and that if they weren't working, they were in church. They also didn't have to work for their entire lives; elderly peasants could retire and be supported on a portion of the overall estate yield, in medieval social security, and if this wasn't given to them, they could and did sue their landlords to get it. So yet again, medieval life was NOT just nothing but filth and misery and being worked until you dropped. People are people. They have lived as people in all ages and eras of the world. They have enjoyed themselves and worked and lived and died. We do need to examine the very real problems of the modern world, but I continue to hope, however vainly, that we don't need to keep relying on excessively distorted versions of the medieval world to do it.

#anonymous #ask #history #medieval history #history of religion #people have always been people

[acti-veg]

someone told me animals don’t actually experience emotion or pain; they’re just programmed to act like they do but they’re not self aware so they can’t? i don’t agree but looking it up it seems some scientists agree? are we just projecting our own feelings onto animals?

This was very much the prevailing philosophical opinion in the past, proliferated by the likes of Descartes and conveniently kept up far longer than it should have been because it was convenient in justifying the horrific animal experiments of the 19th and 20th centuries. While you'll certainly find 'scientists' still parroting this stuff, it's a viewpoint that has been directly contrary to the evidence for at least a century.

We can prove sentience beyond any reasonable doubt. The idea that animals have evolved nervous systems and brains that look and behave very similar to our own, complete with clearly observable pain responses and avoidance, but both the biological apparatus and the behaviours are all just a pointless farce that do not have an actual function in providing or processing a pain response, flies in the face of basic biology, as well as everything we know about animal psychology and evolution.

This is a viewpoint that is just plainly anti-scientific, held onto only by the kind of fringe 'scientists' telling us that the world is flat and that COVID was invented by Bill Gates. It’s just not that hard to get a science degree and call yourself a scientist, and it in no way makes your batshit opinions more authoritative. This is why peer review exists.

I am ususally willing to give people the benefit of the doubt and assume they've seen information I haven't, or may just be getting confused. In this case though, the person who told you this is either outright lying or just hasn't got the slightest clue what they're talking about. This is science denialist, conspiracy theory nonsense, and you should take it as a good indication that this is not a person whose opinions you should treat with any degree of seriousness.

#ask #sentence #vegan

[loving-n0t-heyting]

The O in OCD is considerably worse and more draining than the C, imo. Compulsions are kinda fun if you manage them right! They’re like, a weird little idiosyncratic videogame overlaid on consensus reality that only you get to play. Or one of those fantasy sixth senses, where you can perceive magical forces around you invisible to everyone else. Loser idiots around me could never match my “stepping only on the Correct tiles and avoiding the harsh invisible lines” skills, they can’t even see them to begin with! This is bc I am gods specialest little angel whom he has rewarded with true sight and exclusive extra bonus content to my visual apparatus

Intrusive thoughts are… not even pointless urges to give into yr id at the expense of yr moral rectitude. It’s like if yr superego has an evil twin, a Dark Link, perfectly engineered to invert the superegos utility function, sitting on yr shoulder loudly voicing its insane advice. Bad stuff!

#faildaughters of the world unite

[full-loup]

From Fame to Fat: How Krystal Let Herself Go

This story contains slob, gas, and hints of health issues.

"Her association with team Star Fox would soon make her a household name, and her contributions to defending Corneria and Lylat at large would cement her place in history. Eventually however, all the wealth that would follow such fame would take a heavy toll in many ways for the pilot, and she found herself struggling with a life of pampered luxury during a time when peace was plentiful and mercenary jobs few and far between. Before long, she would wind up in a similar position to many successful Lylatians, plunging headlong into a life of decadent indulgence and ease. Now at nearly 800 pounds, Fay finds herself struggling with the simplest of tasks…"

Krystal snorted as she sat there watching the broadcast, causing herself problems as she nearly gagged on the flow of sweet sludge filling her mouth. In a move that was now akin to instinct, her plump fingers flipped a switch on the nozzle of her feeding tube, shutting the flow of what could loosely be called "dinner" off as she pulled the apparatus from her lips.

"Goodness, that's what she looks like now? Oh my dear, you really went hog wild, didn't you?"

Licking her lips, the blue-furred vixen grinned with smug self-satisfaction as she watched her new guilty pleasure unfold on screen. The camera crew seemed to take sadistic delight in the cocker spaniel's condition, zooming in on her wobbling backside as she struggled to climb a flight of stairs. The next shot was a close-up of the white furred canine's red-tinged face, the interview clearly taken as soon as she'd finished her climb as she was still out of breath.

"It's just… so easy, you know…?" Fay panted into the camera, her eyes never really looking directly at the lens, "To kinda just… lose control? I mean… I was already set for life before the whole Venom thing and we really thought Andross was gone that time… hnnf… uggh… there just wasn't much to do for me but eat I guess, and there's just so much good food these days… you… unnff… you know?"

"Many do know all too well, unfortunately…" The host of the show, a slim gazelle, continued as she stood on a stage among numerous holograms depicting Fay's corpulent form that were soon replaced by a singular holo of a planet, "Thanks to the combination of its rich agricultural resources and the technological advancements enjoyed by many in its more industrialized settlements, a sort of gastronomic renaissance has blossomed especially on Corneria…"

Krystal snickered again as the television program showed before and after holos of Fay, the irony of her amusement somehow lost on the fox. The last Cerinian had herself fallen prey to the culture of excess that her favorite TV show so eagerly exploited, and in many ways she had fallen harder than most… Now pushing a thousand pounds, Krystal had to have been one of the heaviest women on the planet, if not in the entire Lylat System.

Finding herself distracted, her grumbling belly reminded her that she needed to eat, and Krystal began to suckle once again on her feeding hose as she watched. The device it was connected to was able to synthesize hundreds of flavors of processed mush for her to consume, each one more delicious than the last. There was a time where she'd been obsessed with the turkey dinner flavor, drinking nothing else for a week straight, but now strawberry milkshake had taken her fancy. Nutritionally, the slurry was little more than empty calories, its only purpose to fuel the needs of her bulky body and to satisfy the vixen's near-constant hunger. Heavy folds of blubber weighed her down now, pinning her in place to her bed and making most clothing impractical for her. She now didn't bother much with appearances, finding it pointless now that she couldn't even walk without assistance. Bathing was also a chore in the extreme to the fox girl at this point, leaving her fur and hair a filthy mess, and she wore only a set of ill-fitting undergarments that clung to her as much as she clung to what little decency she had left. She hadn't changed out of them in about a week now, the hassle of getting Fox to help her out of them too much for her to really bother…

"Finding herself bored and with little to do, Fay flitted from one dalliance to the next: Painting, dancing, and finally… eating." The host continued, "Within only a couple of years into her newfound retirement Fay began to consume the Cornerian gourmet scene… until it began to consume her."

As she watched and ate, Krystal's eyes began to glaze over. She began to focus less on the television and more on eating itself. Soon her mind was filled with the pure bliss of the act, the taste, the swallowing, the digestion… She started to grab the thick rolls of her belly in her paws, fondling them eagerly and squeezing the soft, doughy flesh. A moan escaped her lips, gurgling past the nozzle and the flow of sustenance as a chill of pleasure shuddered through her corpulent body. Soon though, the pleasure in her belly was replaced with discomfort… Medical and pharmaceutical technology had eased some of the more serious complications that could be reached at more massive levels of obesity, but there were some things that still couldn't be eliminated completely…

"Fay's story is like so many others who have found fame and success across the Lylat System… Stay tuned now to see the reactions of next season's participants as we introduce them to viewers on our live, interplanetary broadcast of 700 Pound Lylat: Celebrity Edition!"

Flicking the off switch on her feeding hose once again, the fox groaned as the discomfort filling her guts grew. The bed beneath her creaked loudly as she leaned forwards, her flabby rolls shifting and pressing against one another to create new folds as she pulled the nozzle from her lips.

"Ughh… come the fuck on…!" Krystal panted between gritted teeth before lifting her tail to release a massive blast of flatulence loud enough to cover the sound of her bedroom door sliding open with a hiss. Krystal moaned with relief as the fart dragged on, the delirium she felt as the pressure was released enough to dampen her already dulled psychic abilities so that she didn't register the presence of the camera crew behind her…

Krystal smiled lazily as her eyes returned to the glowing screen of the television, once again eager to indulge in the shame of others, not knowing that soon she would no longer be able to ignore her own…

"Wonder who the whale they caught this time is…"

Was working some more on practicing a faster style when I took this sketch a bit too far in more ways than one. Hopefully this isn't too much for some of you, though I'm happy with the results of my experimentation. Hope you all enjoy as well!

#weight gain #fat furry #fatfur

[sinisterexaggerator]

Okay, we need some Bane love now cause we have Hondo and Shriv happening. May I be blessed with some grumpy blueberry being an absolute blueberry?

What would be something Bane would do for s/o that he doesn't really want to/feel like it, but would do it just for s/o.

Please make grumpy blueberry extra grumpy but... fluffy? ♥

Good question. I have a hard time imagining Bane doing mundane tasks, because I am sure for a lot of things, he just gets Todo to do them. 

He probably cooks himself something on occasion, but sticks to ration bars or small animals and insects in a pinch. He probably handles his own laundry, because he doesn’t trust the droid not to fuck it up. He handles his own gear and weapons because that is his livelihood. I imagine his house mother taught him a thing or two (headcanon, obviously) and he is self-reliant in most ways, but won’t work any harder than he needs to.

As far as things like making caf, cleaning dishes, scrubbing the refresher, etc, I see him putting it off on the droid. Maybe he gives Todo travel coordinates and has him engage the hyperdrive. Etc, etc. But I don’t see him wasting too much time on the day-to-day unless it is absolutely necessary.

I see Bane as a sort of loner/bachelor type that makes do by picking up grub at a food stall or living on the bare minimum. Hording his wealth like a dragon sort of, collecting things, trinkets, souvenirs, trophies … but leaving them kind of a mess in his “room.” Considering he doesn’t do much self-care besides attending to his good looks and being impeccably dressed (imo), I really had to think about this one.

He would really have to be all about someone to go out of his way. Don’t get me wrong, I think he would, and maybe would even derive some kind of satisfaction out of it, though he might initially complain.

Hell, maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he’s a good sport and sucks it up. It would really depend on the situation.

One such situation might be taking you to dinner for a special occasion, such as an anniversary. My version of Bane thinks traditions are pointless. He doesn’t celebrate holidays. He doesn’t put stock into the things that other people do, but he knows you personally find some meaning in them and that they are important.

Maybe he makes a reservation and even cleans up nice, dusts his hat off, shines his boots, that sort of thing.

---

“Best be appreciatin’ dhis, it ain’t happenin’ next year,” the Duros informed you upon arrival to your destination. He had gone out of his way to treat you on your special day.

“You’re saying you plan to keep me around, Cad?” you teased playfully, coming in to place a succinct kiss on his cool blue cheek. He had removed his breathing apparatus; all his gear, but those things that were necessary. He was trying to play the part of handsome escort, though he remained armored beneath his tailored suit.

Bane gave you a look that said, “don’t push your luck,” his tongue swishing a wooden toothpick to one side of his thin-lipped mouth.

“I’ll take that as a maybe,” you finalized, waiting for him to put some much-needed pep into his step. The hunter was never in a rush, not unless it was on his terms.

He sauntered forward, and you hooked your arm around his elbow. He smirked at you, though it was lopsided. He ushered you behind the maître d', seating you before himself. Once comfortable, he marked you with his unrelenting stare.

“Don’ think dhis is an excuse te order de most expensive thing on de menu, neither,” he grumbled out.

“Of course not, darling,” you dismissed dryly. You were starting to wonder if you both should have just stayed home and ordered takeout.

#Cad Bane #Cad Bane x Reader #Headcanon #ask #star wars #imagines #ficlet #writing #fanfiction #duros #fluff

[arathain]

A Star of Dawn

The child, perhaps nine years of age or so, hid inside the cupboard, cutlery and tableware prodding in all the uncomfortable places. They did not see the room outside the cupboard, as instructed - quite probably for the better. The two caretakers were armed with a plain shortsword, the door barred with a wardrobe. The singular window's shutter was locked tight, as all the shutters in the town would've been by now. Even through the walls of the room & cupboard, screams and footsteps were audible in the distance. A shudder, the floor vibrating powerfully. Another. The cries went silent. The caretakers gripped their swords tightly, readying themselves as best as they could, given their meagre martial arts training.

The door flew open, smashing against the wall together with the wardrobe. Pieces scattered across the floor, with parts of the wall paint having flaked away to reveal the brick underneath. Through the doorway stepped an unassuming figure, cloaked in grey garbs. A half-mask covered their mouth and nose, two vertical slits streaming down from the tear glands of the eyes. The hair was an unassuming dark brown, streaked with hints of grey. They unsheathed a sword, if you could call it a sword - a solid piece of black granite, sharpened to absurdity. Abruptly, the leftmost nurse dashed towards the figure, sword descending with all the strength they could muster.

With thorough disinterest, the grey being grasped the sword by the blade, the inside of their glove absorbing the cut. Twisting, the sword broke, and the battered nurse could only gasp as the Mason cut twice, stone cleanly cleaving from the clavicle to the midriff, and again, horizontally. The eyes of the murderer were pointed in the direction of their victim, but thoroughly blank - as if seeing past the nurse altogether. With a rise of their left hand, the ground shook, thousands of tiny spikes protruding from the stone bricks directly opposite to the second nurse. With a gurgle, they fell to the floor, countless tiny red splotches forming on their back. Inside of the cupboard, the child could barely contain their fear. The Mason sheathed their sword, looking down on the corpses below them.

'Idiots' the Wheel-Bearer muttered, as a shadowy figure silently ran down the corridor behind them. 'One and all dancing on thin air.'

Turning back to see the one approaching, their voice slit through the air; 'Is the apparatus destroyed? The physickers dead?'

'Aye, sir.' The hands and knives of the Thronebreaker Shadow were painted with blood as they reached into one of their myriad pockets, and extended a blade-like sliver of crystal, tied down intricately with rope. 'The fruits of their labour, in all their glory.'

The Mason carefully grasped the combined effort of a century of alchemists, the crystal dancing as it refracted light in countless, pointless ways.

'Missed the mark by a tad, there.' they said, studying the essence of the artifice. 'A unique approach to be sure, but unacceptable in its intended use.'

The Mason's head turned towards the cupboard. 'Although, a more appropriate use might've presented itself.' They turned back to their compatriot.

'Prepare the Walkway back home; burn the entire complex down as well. It is best if we eliminate all traces of what was being sought after here.'

As the Shadow departed, the immortal-killer walked over to the cupboard, and, without a hint of hesitation, smashed it into the ceiling. The child shrieked as shards of clay and porcelain cut their face and arms, woodchips scraping against their skin. Laying broken on the floor, the small one coughed up blood as the Mason grabbed them by the neck, lifting them up so as to inspect them. Their eyes widened; still seeing past what they were looking at, however it seemed that, for a brief moment, a brand new vision was revealed to the lifeless orbs.

'Oh, you'll do.' The mason stabbed the primitive crystal kris into the child's nape, sending convulsions throughout the body as the crystal fused with the child's self, guided by the Mason's hand. 'You'll do well. I may not be a child of the Bud or the Blossom, but even the graceless I may yet serve the Twin-Dragon Wheel. Tell me, what is your name?'

The slivers of clay and porcelain flew off of the child as the magical stone-and-metalworker's hand moved, the crystal in the child's body bringing them back to bearable conditions once more.

The child hesitantly spoke. 'I'm J-'

Cut off before being given a chance to barely start, the child flew against the wall, bones cracking as the blunt of the Mason's stone-sword retreated into its sheath. With a twist of the hand, the child was brought back to a state just undamaged enough to be able to stand straight. Raising a hand to their chin, the Mason lowered themselves to look down upon the tiny one.

'Do not utter such useless words. You are nothing, were nothing, and, given your circumstances would be any different, would've been ash soon. Alas, your existence has the potential to feed the Twin Ouroboros, and that is a task I wouldn't dare to intrude upon. What are your parents' names?'

The child hesitated, silent in fear.

'Tell them to me.'

As the child opened their mouth to speak, they were thrown across the room once again, the Mason's blade ringing as it retreated into its sheath once more. Once again, the child was raised up, brought back to just before the brink of death.

'Your parents are dead or dying, and their essence is a disgrace to existence itself. A name must be earned, and they've long lost any right to such distinguishment. Given time and effort, your existence shall warrant a name for it; now, tell me. What is your name?'

With fear in its eyes, the child hesitantly whispered. 'Nothing. I have no name.'

The Mason straightened upright, still looking down on the now time-scattered child, their upbringing soon to be wiped off of the annals of history. 'Rule of the third - very well, you are salvageable.'

The Mason grabbed them by the nape and dragged them, their feet sliding across the planks. The halls they were dragged through burned with a blue flame, parting before its creator. Through the blue haze, the child saw corpse after corpse, being consumed by flames fed from the very essence of their previous owners. As the alchemists' mansion Blossomed blue and the Mason stepped through the Walkway, the child drifted away, their exhaustion sliding their eyelids shut.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The young adult circled the colourless meal on their plate with a three-pronged fork, the individual spines sharper than they have any right to usually be. The table, akin to the room itself, was plain and stone-cold - potentially owing to the fact it was made of said stone. Footsteps. The clank of cruel metal against the stone floor rang as the Mason entered the small kitchen, the two lanterns newly invigorated with blue flame. Rising a chair out of the sheer rock, the solitary Wheel-Bearer sat in front of the budding chrysalis. The no-longer-child but not-quite-adult immediately straightened and set down their fork - for the house, and the child, were the Mason's, and their existence was leveraged on serving their assigned purpose.

'What stands in your path?'

The adolescent looked at their 'mentor' bewildered, waiting for an elaboration. When one inevitably did not come, they gave in and hesitantly asked. 'Pardon?'

The immortal-killer sighed. 'You do not make progress. You have not made progress. The wheel does not budge for you. What stands in your path, to hinder you so?'

Looking down at their plate through their newly-made crystal glasses, the adolescent failed to provide an answer. While they held faint memories of occasional cruelty from the Mason, the being has never failed to provide for them, and allowed them to foster their skills whenever they provided. In contrast, the adolescent failed miserably at trials of power and wit, unable to impress in any degree. To say the young one felt useless was an understatement, to say the least.

'I- I do not know.'

The Mason stood up, the chair underneath crumbling to dust. 'Very well.'

With a single motion, the seat the adolescent sat in shot up through the roof, the stone tiles retracting to make space for the average-sized figure. As the young one got up, the Mason effortlessly climbed onto the rooftop, gazing at the stars above.

'The stars are curious, among the cycle. Seemingly ageless, they nevertheless pop in and out of existence in due time; their lifespans simply outshine a mortal one by aeons, forever out of reach.' Looking back at the adolescent, their eyes seeing past, the Mason stared. 'This is your purpose. That is the end of your journey, the culmination of your purpose; your death will blind a thousand eyes, and send the Wheel reeling forward. With time, and the care I grant unto you, you shall be fit for this express purpose; only power can be your salvation.'

The adolescent stared at them, wide-eyed.

'S-so, my only purpose is to die?'

The Mason's eyes narrowed, the grey irises drilling into the young one's own. 'If you do not find another way, yes - that shall be your purpose. Only if your existence will be noteworthy, may you escape the Wheel by serving it.' With that, the roof parted underneath them, and they walked out of the small stone house, opening a Walkway to stifle places far removed. As the wound in the world's fabric closed, the child looked up longingly at the astral objects above, grasping. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Astron woke up, rising against the wooden table, as the first rays of the morning sun illuminated Rat's hideaway log cabin. Rubbing their eyes and adjusting their cheap yellow glasses, they gathered their sketches and stowed their books away, lest Rat see what they're researching. The Mason's works, as well as miscellanities on the occult they gathered from their travels. Insofar, their search did not bear many fruit, however they were determined to find the truth of what 'Circle-Breaker' meant, and, perhaps more importantly, to discover who it was that so effortlessly put an end to the Mason altogether. Perhaps, there were other things that this being could bring an end to, or better yet - elevate.

As they gathered up the last of the papers, one of the pieces gave them pause - a singular sketch of the old dining hall at the Perch; Lux, Freak, & the Mason all together with them. Holding it tightly, they walked outside, the mountain valley laid out in front of them.

They squinted as the golden rays of the sun hit their eyes, hands firmly gripping the veranda below them. Looking up, the stars faded, but not in the mind of Astron. Grimacing, they painstakingly tore up the small sketch, letting the tiny shreds be scattered by the wind. Heading back inside, a single, soft mutter escaped from under their breath.

'No cost too great.'

#mason arathain #astronyu #content smp #creative writing #arathain #this is what watching the entirety of a TBSkyen Boss Designs playlist gets you /j

[brazenautomaton]

I don't know what kind of prophetic vision you must have had when you made that post about strawmen that's become a meme, because my gosh your blog somehow attracts responders that fit that behavior exactly.

As an actual response to your post, I've got two (kinda pointless) thoughts.

One, your commentary on how people can say verifiably false statements about corporations without being challenged reminded me of an old forum thread on how 9-11 truthers use vague and logically valid but not sound statements to appear reasonable. E.g. "how could a terrorist cell operating out of a bunch of desert caves fly an airplane the way they did?" despite there being verifiable proof the hijackers lived in western cities and literally went to flight school in the US. Their statement being internally valid (from a layman's understanding) lets them motte-and-bailey when you point out how unsound the statement is in context. Internet communists are essentially these people except they somehow got an argumentative majority.

Two, assuming what I just said is true, I am completely stumped as to how these people became the majority at all. Any explanation I come up with for why, in the early stages of this rhetoric on the internet, nobody would just...point out the lie and undercut the whole talking point requires the communist's statement to already be the majority opinion/moral high ground. Thus, the rhetorical apparatus to debate/criticize communist talking points (and be taken seriously) had to be removed before these talking points started invading every space. Or, to use your term, the ability to ignore the rules had to have been established before communist talking points took over the internet, which I would assume would necessitate interference from outside the internet. I just don't know where that interference came from.

Apologies if this is an unreadable wall of text, I'm on mobile. Your posts on this topic are very thought provoking.

because communism is extremely flattering to the biases of a certain type of person, and that person is also very often the type of person who is an Opinion Leader and Taste Maker and who decides what Is Talked About, so communism has always gotten a free pass, always had things bent over to excuse it. if you weren't a conservative you always had the obligation to view communists as "maybe taking it too far" instead of "murderously violent and always wrong." the chattering class and social elite were covering up and excusing all kinds of communist revolutionary violence in the 70s because oh their hearts are in the right place, what are you senator mccarthy?

it's supposed to be laughable that anyone would complain about hillary clinton being close to that dude from weatherman when like -- yes a communist revolutionary is a thing to be concerned about! if the right wing was one tenth as accepting of fascists as the left were of communists, these people would be planting bombs in government buildings, but it's always okay for communists.

communism is an ideology of pure intellectual laziness, and it is the exact shape of the intellectual laziness that people with inherent social power have. it's too flattering to them to ever reject.

[wordacrosstime]

Bad Actors

[Bad Actors, by Mick Herron. 10 May 2022. Publisher - Soho Crime. 360 pages. ISBN-10: ‎1641293373. ISBN-13 - 978-1641293372. Weight - 1.18 pounds. Dimensions ‏ : ‎ 5.75 x 1.17 x 8.52 inches. (publishing details thanks to Soho Crime)]

In 2010, writer Mick Herron published the first of his 8-book series centered on Slough House, an MI5 property that houses the discarded refuse of the British intelligence apparatus.  The slow horses (a play on the name of the facility) are embittered, disillusioned, and disgraced, but evidently not quite to the level of termination.  Instead, they labor on pointless, soul-crushing assignments for the Mother Ship of MI5, located at Regent’s Park in London (and prosaically dubbed The Park).

Heading up the slow horses is Jackson Lamb, himself a disgraced and hyper-cynical spy who, for reasons that are never made entirely clear, relishes his command position in this Purgatory of the intelligence community.  Lamb is ugly, foul-mouthed, misogynistic, anti-social in the extreme, and has repulsive personal and professional hygiene.  He claims to have total disregard (or possibly no regard whatsoever) for the people in his charge, whom he refers to as his joes.  But underneath the crass and off-putting demeanor lies a profound and singular intellect and an exceptionally keen understanding of the ways of the world, especially that part of the world dominated by intrigue, deception, treachery and violence.  And though he would never, ever admit it, he actually cares about his joes.  If anything is to happen to them, it had better be by his hand, or woe be unto the person or persons who got in the way.

The volume under review here, Bad Actors, is the eighth and final (?) book in the Slow Horses series.  In addition to Jackson Lamb, many of the usual suspects remain from the preceding seven installments:  Diana Taverner, the ruthless and rapacious First Desk at MI5; Roddy Ho, Slough House’s tech genius, a legend in his own mind only; Claude Whelan, who used to head up MI5; Catherine Standish, Lamb’s gal Friday and the bulwark standing between him and the chaos beneath him; and many more.

In this episode, a Downing Street superforecaster – someone who can predict, with startling accuracy, how policies will influence the electorate and advises the Prime Minister on same – has disappeared.  Claude Whelan has been assigned the job of finding her.  The trail leads back to The Park and Diana Taverner.  Just what is she up to?  Are her labyrinthine schemes for control of the Intelligence Service coming to a boil?  Or is something else at work?  Simultaneous to this domestic intrigue is the sudden arrival of Taverner’s opposite number in the Russian intelligence machine, who enters Britain under a false name and promptly loses his MI5 handlers.

Amid the tumult, the Slow Horses become involved in these machinations, for two reasons:  One, because they are terminally bored and eager to do something to set their personal records straight and perhaps – just perhaps – inveigle their way back into The Park, even though the history of Slough House suggests that this cannot happen; and Two, because Jackson Lamb hates Diana Taverner and The Park and loves to poke the hornet’s nest whenever and however he can.

Throughout this and the other seven Slough House novels, Mick Herron seamlessly interweaves caustic rhetoric with surprisingly poignant moments.  He plays off the Slow Horses against one another to varying degrees while Jackson Lamb lurks like a spider in his darkened corner of proceedings.  But when Lamb strikes, they all know to get out of his way (well, all but Roddy Ho who can’t seem to get out of his own way, much less anyone else’s) and let him do what he does best – whatever that is.  Lamb, both figuratively and literally, knows where the bodies are buried, and knows this not only within his own agency but with other intelligence services around the globe – including the Moscow directorate.  And though Slough House will never get their contributions acknowledged, even Lamb knows that sometimes the only solution to a sticky situation is a few Slow Horses – his joes.

Unlike many of his peers, Herron brings a decidedly literary quality to his writing.  Fans of John le Carré will find these novels great fun; they certainly move ahead more swiftly than, say, his Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy or Len Deighton's Funeral In Berlin.  There is a modern sensibility to these novels that will catch the interest of most readers of spy fiction and thrillers.  And if one can ignore Jackson Lamb’s foulness, one will be rewarding with some of the most sardonic humor to be found in modern fiction.  Herron’s writing pairs nicely with a chewy red wine and some spicy crisps of an evening.

Image credits from top : Cover with thanks to © publisher. Portrait of Mick Herron with thanks to photographer © Mikael Buck and Hachette

Kevin Gillette

Words Across Time

19 January 2024

wordsacrosstime

#Mick Herron #Kevin Gillette #Words Across Time #wordsacrosstime #January 2024 #Bad Actors #Slough House #British Intelligence #MI5 #Slow Horses #Regent's Park #The Park #Jackson Lamb #intrigue #deception #treachery #violence #Diana Taverner #Roddy Ho #Claude Whelan #Catherine Standish #Superforecaster #Downing Street #Prime Minister #Russian Intelligence #John le Carré #Len Deighton #Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy #Funeral In Berlin #chewy red wine

[yourstruly-sephie]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

𝐈 𝐧 𝐭 𝐨 𝐭 𝐡 𝐞 𝐂 𝐥 𝐮 𝐭 𝐜 𝐡 𝐞 𝐬

𝟐𝟕𝟕 𝐀𝐂 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠’𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝

At the center of the training grounds, stood a sturdy wooden easel of a good size and width. On the three-legged easel was a circular tightly coiled straw mat tied securely from the bottom, where the legs meet, and the top, where the easel tapers. The middle of the straw coiled mat had a sewed-in linen fabric with a distinct drawn black dot, no bigger than a fist. A spot that marked the target.

It was her target. The bullseye. Nyrella stood at one end of the Overhang, while the easel and mat stood on the other. She carefully observed her surroundings and conditions first, before having the confidence to yield her bow and arrow. The King’s Landing heat was beating down on her. At the same time, the wind was forgiving and gentle. There were no distractions or loud sounds to throw her off course.

She took a reassuring inhale. The longbow she held in her weaker hand was parallel to the ground and laid loosely to her side. She reached out towards the stand where her quiver stood for convenience. At random, she selected a wooden arrow. Her eyes moved towards the bow as her index and middle finger shifted slightly upwards over to the front of the arrow rest. She slipped the wooden arrow behind the two fingers, then pushed the arrow forward until the nock attached to the bowstring. Nyrella placed her leather-covered fingers accordingly— one finger above the arrow, two below.

In position, Nyrella brought her arms up together. The longbow perpendicular to the ground, while her arrow laid horizontal. Inhaling, she drew the bowstring back until her anchor point. The further she drew her arrow, the more her dominant hand tensed at the force. Her back muscles were being overused and the soreness escalated quickly as she continued to hold her position. She looks at the target, shifting her bow to aim at the bullseye. Her upper body was searing with pain for the little time she held her bow. Exhaling, she released.

She felt the whiplash of the bowstring slap her guarded forearm which prevented bruises or “kisses” as they are called. She kept her stance until she heard the familiar thump of the arrow meeting the target. Nyrella lowered her arms, bringing the bow down to her hips.

“Third time today,” Jon amused, analyzing the performance.

Nyrella’s face fell into a grimace. The arrow landed at the edge of the circular target, far from the bullseye. This was her third time since the start of her archery practice that she hit that exact same spot. It was impressive, but not the bullseye. All the other times, she missed the target completely.

“I don’t need your mockery Jon,” Nyrella sighed in frustration. She leaned her longbow against the stand of her quiver, then she proceeded to take off all of her leather apparatus. A string of curses left under her breath, a sign that her anger was seeping through.

Jon was going to say something in response, but Rhaegar put his hand on Jon’s chest, giving the redhead a warning expression. Jon returned a begrudging look, yet understanding the circumstance. Rhaegar walked over to Nyrella’s side, his hands behind his back, “Don’t be too harsh on yourself. It’s only been an hour or two of practice.”

“And it’s been months, almost a year, since I’ve started archery,” Nyrella scoffed, not batting an eye at Rhaegar. She knew fully well he tried to assure her, but it was pointless for him to do so in her opinion. It was not going to make her feel better about the lack of improvement she had over the course of her practice. Even more so, this could be said to all of her combat training. She sucked in everything.

“I know your frustration, Ny. I was once in your position, and it takes patience to see the results,” Rhaegar offered. Nyrella snorted at his response, choosing to call his words bullshit. Rhaegar rolled his eyes at her childishness.

“Look on the bright side, young protégé,” Jon came to her side, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. He pulled her close, and guided his other hand across the powder blue sky. “You have years ahead of you to continue learning, and maybe one day you will be as good as me,” he boasted with an arrogant smirk plastered on his face.

The last part earned the redhead a sharp jab to his gut by Nyrella. He folded over as he hugged his stomach in pain. “I can’t wait until I do,” Nyrella crossed her arms, “because I’ll be the one to kill you.”

“And I will be waiting with open arms to die by the blade of my lover, you,” Jon bellowed, singing songy as he got down on one knee and spread his arms open.

Nyrella’s forehead scrunched as one eyebrow raised in pure confusion at Jon’s antics. She turned to Rhaegar, to give him a discreet gesture towards the redhead. Rhaegar gave the same reaction, shaking his head, then pinching the bridge of his nose in embarrassment. “Alright Jon, that’s enough professing your nonexistent love for my sister,” Rhaegar waved off, “tell her what she needs improvement on.”

Jon got up from the ground and glared at the Targaryen duo, “You two do not have any sense of humor. That's what you need to improve on.”

Nyrella rolled her eyes, “you mean awkward and embarrassing humor like yours? I’ll gladly write it down on parchment.”

“You are a mean girl, you know that,” Jon replied at Nyrella’s sarcasm. He sighed defeated as he was out-numbered by the siblings.

Sensing that the conversation settled, Rhaegar grabbed the longbow and other equipment in his arms, and stalked over to give it to Jon. “Don’t be too harsh,” Rhaegar mumbled to him. He was referencing Nyrella's delicate pride, that was hung by a single thread. Jon gave a curt nod as he put on the leather glove and arm guard.

“All right Nyrella,” Jon cleared his throat, “there were many mistakes you’ve made…”

Rhaegar faceplated his face.

“…but they are easy fixes,” Jon assured, “If you could stand here, thank you.” Nyrella stepped aside to give Jon the space to demonstrate his feedback.

Jon retrieved an arrow from the quiver stand, placing it onto the bow. “First mistake…” Jon lifted both his arms up, he pulled the bowstring to the corner of his eye, then he released. Bullseye. “…do not hold,” he directed to Nyrella.

“But I can’t aim if I don’t hold,” Nyrella protested.

“That’s why you have eyes,” Jon pointed out, “Use them because your enemies are not going to fall on their knees over their beauty.”

“And you call me mean,” Nyrella mumbled underneath her breath in displeasure but she kept her ears open to Jon’s feedback.

“You need to relax, Ny. Open up your stance. Elbows up, and let your back do all the work,” Rhaegar added on.

“Noted. Don’t hold. Open stance. Elbows up. Let my back do all the work. Anything else?” Nyrella listed off as she placed a hand on her hip.

“Keep your anchor point consistent for accuracy!” A voice shouted. Jon, Rhaegar, and Nyrella averted their eyes towards the direction of the sudden intruder.

“Arthur! Finally you came!” Jon waz happy to return the gesture, while putting his hand above his eye to cover from the sunlight. Nyrella, too, smiled with happiness to see Arthur. She did not see him the whole day until now. It seemed that his presence brought fresh air into the mix.

The Kingsguard waved off to his friends, quite happy to see them. He quickly descended the stony steps of the Overhang—his armor casually clang as he did. He strode over to the trio, taking his place at Rhaegar’s side while Jon and Nyrella were in front of him.

“Did the meeting go well?” Rhaegar inquired as his gaze gravitated to the Dornishman’s side profile. Arthur shrugged his shoulders and a neural expression graced his face.

“Nothing much than what you already know,” Arthur pivoted to meet Rhaegar’s gaze.

“What is it?” Nyrella’s curiosity peeked at the sight of Arthur and Rhaegar’s silent acknowledgment. She looked at Rhaegar, pleading with her eyes to tell her what they were egging on. “Rhaegar.”

“Duskendale,” Rhaegar replied plainly.

“I’m aware. Has Lord Denys finally yielded?” Nyrella questioned.

“Not exactly,” Arthur answered, “he has invited your father to visit Duskendale to reach a settlement.”

“Has my father declined the offer?” Nyrella persisted further.

Rhaegar pinched the bridge of his nose in shame, “Not yet. However, he is swayed to accept because Lord Tywin had opposed it.”

“Oh,” Nyrella breathed out.

It was common knowledge throughout the Seven Kingdoms that the relationship between the King and the Hand was strained, even more so now. However, from the older lords in court, especially from Steffon Baratheon, this was not the case many years ago. Her father and Lord Tywin were great friends in their youth and shared the same ideas to better the realm, yet, when it came to them having power, everything changed. It saddened Nyrella to hear such a tragedy. She only hopes it does not happen to Rhaegar or his friends.

“We should not ponder too much on this,” Rhaegar clapped his hands which startled Nyrella. “It will be awhile until the King makes a decision, so we must pray some sense is put into his head,” he was hopeful, but his words felt forced because he knew what his father was going to choose. There was no changing his mind to spite his enemy.

“All right Nyrella, show us everything you’ve learned,” Jon gave the silver-haired princess her glove and arm-guard.

Nyrella sighed. It was going to be a long day of practice and an even longer one with Jon as her archery mentor. Yet, she could not give up, even if she wanted to. Her closest people are rooting for her success, and she could not let them down. And with every fiber in her body, she took her stance looking straight at the straw target with a bow and arrow in hand.

.・゜゜・♛・゜゜・.

Nyrella leaned her hands against her balcony, looking out of the refreshing view. The gardens below her were greener and vibrant than yesterday, and the sea far away was just as she left them—still and blue. The breeze was moderate rather than light. Her long wavy hair synchronized with the swift push of the westward winds. She took this as a compassionate gift from the gods because today will not be as pleasant as this serene view from her balcony.

She pivoted onto the balls of her feet and retracted into the shade of her quarters. Her body elegantly strolled over to her vanity, taking a seat on the vacant chair. Nyrella extended her hand to grab her daily hairbrush made of gold with a flowery marbling on the back. She brushed the horse bristles against the end of her hair, moving up gradually to untangle the knots.

Suddenly, the hinges of the door creaked open. Nyrella turned her head, and smiled at the person by the door. “Good morning Alora, how was your breakfast?” She welcomed the Dornish woman warmly into her quarters.

The dark-haired woman bowed her head to the royal as her body slipped into the room, closing the door behind her. “Very well, your Grace. I’ve also brought fresh flowers to replace the withered ones,” she lifted the arrangement of flowers in her arms to show her.

“Thank you, they look very beautiful,” Nyrella smiled as she continued to brush out her hair.

“I made sure to tell the gardener to get your favorites— lilacs, lavender, roses, peonies…” the older woman listed off. Alora fawned over the purple, pink, and white arrangement of flowers. She delicately placed the bundle on the counter of Nyrella’s vanity.

Nyrella hummed. “It’s a miracle they are still in bloom since spring is coming to an end.

“They are blooming and thriving just like you,” Alora smiled as she went behind Nyrella. She grabbed the brush from the Princess’s hand, and brushed the remainder of her hair.

Nyrella watched the woman from the mirror’s reflection with admiration. She could not return a verbal answer instead she flushed pink over her cheeks.

“You look just like the delicate flower you are, especially in your dress,” Alora pointed with her gaze towards the pooling skirt.

A weightless fabric in a pale shade of pink. The gown was simple, except for the bodice. A string of crystal clear gems line the emphasis of the waist, the curve under her bust, and over. A cluster of small frills decorate the neckline of the gown, which continues to the off-the-shoulder sleeves. The gown was simple and elegant, like a flower.

“What do young ladies in Dorne wear?” Nyrella wondered, looking at Alora’s steady hairs they pushed her hair away from her shoulders.

Alora did not spare a glance, “Much more revealing than what the ladies wear here.”

“Do men like it when women reveal more skin?” She questioned further—eyes growing bigger.

Alora stopped to think, “an interesting question Princess, but I suppose any show of skin would make a man wild with passion.”

Nyrella took note of her words, “Is that how to ple-“

An unsuspecting knock echoed through the quarters, interrupting the two women from their actions. Nyrella quickly shut her mouth, fearful her question would be heard by another other than Alora. While the handmaiden placed the hairbrush on the air of the vanity before strolling towards the door. She wrapped her hand around the cool metal doorknob, twisting the thing open.

A vision of silver blonde hair came to view. Alora quickly opened the door wider as she bowed her head at the same time. She waited for the Prince of Dragonstone to fully emerge into the room before she swiftly closed the door shut once again. Rhaegar muttered his gratitude to the Dornish woman, offering her one of his smiles. Alora turned a beet root color, trying to hide her shyness under the cover of her thick hair.

“Rhaegar, what are you doing here?” Nyrella swung her body to face her brother. Her arm rested along the top rail of her seat, while her legs were crossed underneath her puffy attire. Her facial expressions were knitted together in confusion, yet curious.

“To get your opinions if you prefer silks or cotton,” Rhaegar extended his hand to gently touch the petals of the arrangements.

Nyrella rolled her eyes, “I’m serious Reg. And if I want to talk about silks or cotton, I would have that conversation with Jon.”

“Father has changed plans,” he blurted out as he hand dropped back down to his side. He looked at Nyrella with a tired face.

“He has decided not to go?” Nyrella straightened up, invested in the conversation.

“No, no. He is going to Duskendale as he planned. He dismissed the whole court today, only wanting a few people to see him off—which includes us,” Rhaegar rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet.

She could sense the stress radiating off the Prince. With father gone, he would have to do more duties than he already had. “I pray for our sake,” Nyrella breathed as she turned back around to look at her reflection.

“If you are ready sister, I would like to escort you to the courtyard,” Rhaegar stepped forward to lean against the vanity. He observed Nyrella playing with the front strands of her hair, positioning them to frame her small face.

“Will Jon be there?” Nyrella inquired.

“Unfortunately not. He’s been called to Griffin’s Roost, so he departed an hour ago,” Rhaegar explained as he picked on the small trinkets on the table.

Nyrella tilted her head towards him, “and he never told me?” Her eyebrows scrunched in displeasure.

“It was an emergency. He did not want to upset your morning. He will be back in a few days.”

“I would have at least wanted to say goodbye,” a frown graced her face.

“Don’t worry too much Ny. You still have me and Arthur to keep you company,” Rhaegar paused, “which reminds me, he is waiting outside for us, so we must go.”

“You said we could go when I’m ready?” Nyrella challenge, clicking her tongue on the last syllable.

“You are, aren’t you? You look beautiful as ever, and I think Arthur would say the same thing,” clasping his hands together with a smirk spread onto his pale pink lips.

“Rhaegar,” she deadplanned.

“Come on Ny, don’t give me that look. It’s plainly obvious you like him, there is no reason to be shy,” he said, leaning back to hit the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I don’t want to have this conversation with you. It’s embarrassing getting love advice from my brother,” Nyrella got up from her chair. She patted down the front of her dress to straighten out the wrinkles from sitting too long.

Rhaegar chuckled as he shook his head, “I might know a few things.”

“Just because people fall to their feets for you, does not mean anything,” Nyrella offered her arm to Rhaegar.

He gladly linked their arms together, “You love to wound my pride, don’t you?” He opened the door with his other hand with ease.

“It’s what younger sisters do,” Nyrella grinned mischievously as the pair walked out of the room together.

In a few steps, their eyes trailed forward to see the familiar garb of silver armor with their family sigil of fire and blood. The Kingsguard stood at the center of the small cloister in front of Nyrella’s quarters. Sunlight poured down and around him making him look like a warrior sent by the gods to fight for good. His armor was blazing in glory from the bright light as it refracted on the tiled surface. The white cloak that pooled behind him looked like a pair of wings.

Nyrella’s heart filled with admiration. She could stare at him for eternity if the gods allowed her. He was handsome, but the code of honor, chivalry, and values he fully believed in was the reason she stayed. He was so good at heart. Sometimes it was hard to believe that he was real, tangible, and in arms grasp.

“Your Graces,” Arthur bowed his head to the Targaryen siblings.

“Come along, Arthur. We must make haste,” Rhaegar smiled at his friend. He led him and Nyrella towards the hallway, not batting another glance at the knight. He knew fully well Arthur would catch up to this in a matter of a few paces. However, it took Nyrella a glance or two, trying to burn the image of the Kingsguard in her memories.

Arthur heeded to Rhaegar’s words. He trailed after them with a small distance to give the siblings the space to talk to one another. Or maybe it was because he also needed space to think. There was so much going on in mind that made it difficult for him to fully be invested or divulge in conversation with the two silver-haired pair. Ever since the King decided to leave the capital, there was a plethora of responsibilities piled on his platter. One of which, he was responsible for guarding the Queen’s quarters late in the night to cover for Ser Gawyne’s absence. He was not looking forward to the sleep deprivation or the buzzing headaches that came from overworking.

Nyrella continued to glance back at the Kingsguard. She noticed that he hardly looked up from the ground. His shoulders were slouched forward as if it was deadweight. The bags underneath his violet gaze were shadows—deep and dark. His face was clean-shaved but under the dark lighting, the regrowth was prominent to the bare eye. His appearance was a bleak derivative from when she saw him underneath the sunlight at the cloister.

“Is Arthur okay?” Nyrella extended her neck to whisper into Rhaegar’s ear. She retracted back down to spare another look at the miserable looking Dayne.

Rhaegar quickly glanced behind him as well. “Ser Gerold Hightower has worked him to exhaustion. I tried to dismiss him but he was adamant to join us. I can’t put a finger on why,” he raised a questionable brow to Nyrella’s direction but the maiden did not notice.

“You have been more persistent,” Nyrella poked her index finger into Rhaegar’s side, which caused the latter to squirm from his position.

He gave Nyrella a point look of his own, “I was but he’s stubborn.”

Nyrella frowned, “Please dismiss him for the whole day after we bid father away?”

“I plan to,” was all Rhaegar could say.

The trio walked further along the path towards the courtyard. Rhaegar and Nyrella continued to talk to each other. Sometimes glancing back to check on the tired Sword of the Morning. While Arthur stared into the ground, not aware of the glances the siblings stole. He was in his head, making all sorts of decisions on the tasks that required all of his time and attention. He calculated the amount of free time he would get—not much, as he suspected. He prayed to the Seven Heavens for his sake and his other sworn brothers.

.・゜゜・♛・゜゜・.

Upon the arrival at the courtyard, there were people there already waiting for the King. The trio situated themselves comfortably in their appropriate positions. Nyrella stood the closest to the entrance of the wheelhouse, while Rhaegar stood on her left. Arthur was next to Rhaegar but was slight behind a step or two. They came earlier than expected, and it wouldn't be another moment or so before the King of the Seven Kingdoms burst through the giant wooden doors. It was a waiting game for now.

To fill the boredom, Nyrella fixated on the guests her father invited for his departure to Duskendale. The Small council members were all here in attendance, yet in their faces they seemed to lack color. Then there were lords and ladies from minor houses of the Crownlands. They supported her father blindly in hopes to gain favor and were eager to gain more power. It was no surprise her father wanted to surround himself with people that are outwardly loyal to him and only him.

Aery’s decision to travel to Duskendale was unpopular among the court goers. It fueled the people of court to indulge themselves with floating rumors of their King. This heeds speculations on the true intention of traveling to Duskendale. Whispers remarked that Tywin Lannister advised the King not to go, however, the strained relationship between the two, made the King want to distance himself. He wanted to be independent from his Hand by dealing with the problem personally. Others believe that it was a plan made by Aerys to replace Tywin Lannister as Hand of the King. However, it was no rumor that the relationship between Hand and King is on thin lines.

Nyrella was not fond of her father, especially his behaviors and actions. Yet, she debated if traveling to Lord Darklyn’s territory to negotiate was a good idea. But she could not say anything, fearing the consequences of defying the King’s motives. It was the smart thing to not say anything. It was all everyone advised her to do.

“A gold dragon for your thoughts?” Rhaegar inquired as he tilted his head lowly  to compensate for Nyrella’s height.

“No thoughts, but I’ll gladly take the golden dragon,” her heart-shaped lips curved into a smile.

The former chuckled a response, “I’m surprised you have no thoughts for someone that gives their opinions very clearly behind closed doors.”

“You know how it is, Reg,” Nyrella sighed.

“Ears all around,” Rhaegar nodded as he gestured to his ears and the courtyard around.

Nyrella was about to open her mouth to respond, but suddenly the doors swung open with a loud creak from the hinges. All heads at the courtyard snapped to the direction, finding an all too familiar vision of silver-blonde hair, lanky slouched tall frame, with an unstable fire locked behind purple eyes. King Aerys walked forth from the wooden doors behind his entourage of glistening Kingsguards. As he passed by, people bowed their heads lowly, careful not to meet his eyes.

Then, Nyrella noticed another figure trailing behind her father. Lord Tywin. The Hand held an unreadable expression on his face, but it was not hard to know how he felt at that moment. Nyrella knew the Hand was not pleased whatsoever with the King’s decision to depart to Dun Fort, yet a relief to have him gone for a few days. She could not disagree with him. King’s Landing without her father would be peaceful for once.

The siblings watched as Aerys made small talk with the members of the Small Council. He had waved his Kingsguard away to have a private conversation. Ser Gwayne, Ser Gerold, and Ser Oswell continued their way towards their positions near the wheelhouse. They all were without their helms, making it noticeable to the public of their long, tired faces—similar to Arthur’s.

“I wish you good fortune, Ser Gwayne,” Nyrella spoke as the Kingsguard came in front of her.

The Kingsguard bowed his head at the Princess. He made his best effort to smile at her despite the tiredness embedding a permanent frown on his face. “You are too kind, your Grace,” he responded.

Nyrella nodded, letting the Ser go to mount on his mount on his horse. However, another Kingsguard took Ser Gwayne’s stop in front of Nyrella.

“Don’t worry about him too much, your Grace,” Ser Gerold assured with a small smile that showed off the crow’s feet around his eyes.

“I wished another Kingsguard was allowed to go with him. My father is not the most pleasant company,” Nyrella made sure to lower her voice.

The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard chuckled, “he will do just fine.”

“I’m glad to hear. Lord Commander, a question. Where is Ser Barristan? I thought he would be here,” she inquired.

“He is currently guarding your mother’s quarters,” the oldest Kingguard answered.

Nyrella nodded in understanding, “Thank you Ser.” The Lord Commander bowed his head, then departed to his post at the right-most of the wheelhouse’s entrance which was opposite from where she stood. Ser Oswell bowed his head to Nyrella before joining Ser Gerold by the wheelhouse.

Then the rustling of fabric dragging on the ground caught Nyrella’s attention. She moved her eyes to the left to see her father moving towards her and Rhaegar. A sense of dread washed over her. Her interactions with her father were never agreeable as Rhaegar’s. A fury of shivers ran down the back of her spine.

“Father,” Rhaegar greeted as he bowed to Aerys.

“Rhaegar,” was the only thing Aerys could muster.

“I bid you safe travel to Duskendale,” the Prince of Dragonstone followed his greeting. He kept a neutral expression and tone of voice when he spoke.

Aerys eyed his son with contempt. He did not gave him a verbal response, only a grunt of acknowledgment filled with no warmth or gratitude

Nyrella kept her head low as Rhaegar and their father spoke to one another. She fought hard to fidget with her fingers to calm the growing nerves creeping in. She forced her hands to grip the sides of her gown to keep her steady and grounded. Her breaths were quick and short. Her gaze glued to the floor as her hair pooled over to the sides, covering her face.

She could not see what was happening in front of her, but she could hear the shuffling of fabric against the cobblestone. Then, she slowly saw black fabric with red detailing take over her whole vision. She gulped the lump of spit that accumulated in her throat as her father stopped in front of her.

Nyrella gripped the fabric of her gown tightly. “Father,” she acknowledged as her body curtsy slowly. Her head tilted up gradually as she retracted from her crusty until her lavender eyes met with her father’s. The pair shared the same shade of lavender eyes, but Aerys’ was darker in contrast than Nyrella’s light ones.

“Daughter,” Aerys snarled with venom dripping from his mouth.

“I hope the negotiation with Lord Darklyn is not troublesome, and pray for your quick return to King’s Landing,” Nyrella recited.

There was a silence that followed her words. However, Nyrella noticed her father’s lips shifting into a sinister grin. Her body’s instinct started to kick in, telling her to move but her feet were planted firm on the floor.

Without warning, Aerys' free hand roughly clutched around Nyrella’s arm. A gasp escaped from Nyrella as her father’s hand forcefully pulled her forward. His nails dug into her flesh as he tightened his grip around her upper arm. Nyrella tried to squirm from his hold, but to no avail Aerys did not budge. Nyrella heard a clang of movement behind her in response to her father’s sudden action. She felt various pairs of eyes burn her skin.

“I don’t like liars,” Aerys snapped as a few droplets of spit landed on her face. Nyrella cowered her body away from him as she continued to tug her captive arm.

“Let go of me please,” Nyrella pleaded. Her voice was small and her intonation crumbled with every word.

Aerys’ stare bore a hole through her. He did not listen to her. He continued to dig his nails into her flesh. His anger was the fuel of his motivation to hurt her. It brought him pleasure to see his daughter whimper in pain. He liked the power over her.

“Please, let me go, I beg you,” Nyrella begged. Her voice cracked. Her throat burned as she tried her best to push back the sob that threatened to escape her lips. The pain was unbearable.

“Father, let her go,” Rhaegar spoke up. He laid his hand on his father’s arm, but Aerys shook it off. He snapped his head towards his son.

“Your Grace, that is enough. People are watching,” Lord Tywin firmly told the King.

Aerys exhaled in fumes being told off by his son and Hand. He pulled Nyrella closer to him, leaning in to whisper into her ear, “you’re lucky your my daughter.”

On the last word, he released his death grip. Nyrella stumbled back to put distance between her and the perpetrator. Her right arm instinctively covered the surging pain from her left arm. But it was a mistake because she winced at the touch. Her eyes glanced down at the area. She saw the indentation of his nails—red, inflamed, and deep.

Rhaegar came to Nyrella’s side. He gently placed his hand on her elbow to see the injury for himself. He was angry. The Prince of Dragonstone snapped his attention to Aerys, giving his so-called father a glare filled with disgust and bile of rage. However, Aerys only smirked and scoffed at the pathetic response. He was bored of the situation already, deciding to move into the darkness of the wheelhouse.

Lord Tywin observed the Targaryen siblings, mostly Nyrella. He pitied her. There was no way for him to predict Aerys’ actions, but if he could, he wished he would have warned her. Yet, he knew that she should have been more careful in the first place. Tywin sighed as he continued to do his duty to talk to the King about Duskendale.

Arthur was livid, more than Rhaegar. The moment he saw the King grab Nyrella; it made his blood boil. He wanted so badly to march up to the old Targaryen King, and hack off his arm for even daring to touch her in a way. He took all his strength to hold back himself. However, he could not. He was bound by his code of honor to protect the King, first and foremost.

He watched with his violet gaze as Rhaegar tended to Nyrella’s injury. “We must take you to the maester,” Arthur heard Rhaegar mutter to Nyrella.

Yet, he watched Nyrella shake her head in disagreement. She whispered something underneath her breath before fleeing from the scene. Arthur’s eye trailed after her, and soon enough she was gone within seconds. Her figure was consumed by the depth of the doors.

“Arthur,” Rhaegar called his name out. The Kingsguard straightened his posture and nodded firmly at the Prince. Rhaegar sighed, “go after her. She needs you.”

Arthur did not need Rhaegar to repeat those words again. He bowed his head to the silver-blonde Prince before following after Nyrella. He quickened his pace up the steps, towards the doors, and turned right towards the hallway. He was far behind her, but he saw just enough of her to know which turns to take.

For Nyrella, she wanted nothing more than to be far away from the courtyard. She did not know where she was taking herself, but as long as it was far away, the better it was— away from the monster. She felt so small and weak in his grasp. Her skin crawled and burned at the words he spoke to her. She felt disgusting and humiliated. She hated him. Hated herself. She choked out a muffled sob as she sped through the halls.

A couple minutes passed by and Nyrella found herself in the middle of the Red Keep’s gardens. She found a secluded place with an unoccupied stone bench. She sat down and continued to let out all her suppressed emotions. She cradled her face into the palms of her hands, letting the hot tears run down the sides of her cheeks and down her arms. She did not cry often but when she did, it hurt her. She felt her body constrict because she was swallowed by her tears. She had to fight to breathe.

“Nyrella,” Arthur called out to her. Nyrella tilted her head up from the palms of her hand. She could only make out the silhouette of the Kingsguard since the tears clouded her vision.

Arthur walked closer to Nyrella. He kneeled down in front of her, observing her tear stained cheeks and puffy red eyes. He gently wiped away a stray tear with his thumb while he gave her a kind smile. Then, he peered over to her arm, looking over the injury. It was red and raw, no doubt he concluded it gave her much pain. He grabbed his cloak to rip a piece of it off.

“If you don’t mind?” He asked Nyrella, holding up the piece of the torn fabric to her face.

Nyrella wiped her tears with her wrist but new tears streamed down her face before she could wipe the old ones away. “You did not have to do that, Ser,” she hiccuped through her hoarse voice.

Arthur’s eyes smiled, “I did not want to ruin your gown.” He gestured the fabric at Nyrella again. She motioned her arm forward to him. Arthud mumbled his gratitude to Nyrella as he extended his hands forward to wrap the fabric around her injury. He firmly secured the makeshift bandage on her but made sure to be careful not to hurt her.

“Do you do this often?” Nyrella breathed through her nose to stop her nose from running.

The Kingsguard tied the fabric ends together, then tucked the knot inside the bandage. “I learned from my sister. She was always the one to bandage me up when I got hurt, so much so that I learned to fix other people up. Are you feeling okay?”

“I will be,” Nyrella let out a smile. “Thank you, Arthur. I-“

“You do not have to say anything else or speak of what happened. We can be here together in silence, if that is what you wish,” Arthur laid his hand reassuringly on Nyrella’s knee.

Nyrella nodded her head, “I would like that very much.” The tears started to swell up again. This time it was because of his kindness. In a ruthless environment with people like her father, knowing a soul like Arthur gave her hope. Hope that there are better days to look forward to. Hope that she does not have to go through difficult experiences alone.

♛ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ♛

#asoiaf #pre asoiaf #house targaryen #oc!female #arthur and nyrella #rhaegar targaryen #prince rhaegar #house dayne #arthur dayne #arthur dayne fanfic #arthur dayne fanfiction #house connington #jon connington #house lannister #tywin lannister #aerys targaryen #kingsguard #king’s landing #duskendale

[qqueenofhades]

Speaking of Jack Smith and the indictments, follow up questions if you feel like answering! What do you think the chances of a conviction before the 2024 elections are? And (more worryingly to me), how much will convictions matter given they don't actually stop Trump from running or potentially being elected?

I've been following the investigations pretty closely, until I figured out last night that there are no laws against running for president from prison, and nothing stopping an imprisoned president from pardoning themselves. @_@ And while no one running for president from prison has ever gotten much of the vote, I have a terrible feeling that's one of those terrible firsts Orange-kun could pull off.

The thing with all this is that it is, for America, completely unprecedented political and legal territory. As such, while we can speculate and infer from what has happened thus far and what would normally be on schedule to happen next, we simply can't be sure. As I have said and as we all need to prepare ourselves for, Trump WILL be the GOP nominee at the time of the 2024 election, and if you thought he and his deranged cultists were dangerous to American democracy before, that's nothing compared to what they would be now. Which means we have the obvious task of all working as hard as we fucking can to get Joe Biden re-elected and given back full Democratic control of Congress. That is and remains Job Number One.

Next, Trump's only play is to delay, delay, delay as long as possible, in hopes of miraculously winning and canceling all the charges against himself like a proper banana-republic Autocrat-for-Life. That is obviously a terrifying idea, so see above: need to make sure it doesn't happen. The good news is that Biden beat Trump last time and if we do our part, he can do it again. Democrats are over-performing their 2020 margins by an average of 7+ points in the last 20 special or off-cycle elections, and while this isn't a sign to think we've got it in the bag and can just relax, it also means that the electoral trends are overall much better for Team Blue than they are for the Group Of Pfascists over there, especially since state-level Republican parties are basically bankrupt after throwing away so much money on pointless Big Lie challenges. Trump and his entire vindictive fascist apparatus is, again, terrifying. But it is not genuinely popular or in the actual majority, and we need to approach it like something that can and must be defeated, and not some unstoppable demonic force.

As such, we also need to recognize that even if Trump does go on trial and get convicted on any number of things before November 2024, which is still something of a long shot just because Merrick Garland dragged his feet on this for so long, he will try every bullshit delay tactic and appeal that he possibly can, in hopes of elevating it to a Trump-appointed judge and/or SCOTUS (he will try AS HARD AS POSSIBLE to get it to SCOTUS, since like every good mob boss, he thinks he owns them and they're obliged to bail him out). We don't know the timeline on that or what the effects will be, but as I noted last night, the benchmark for "progress on holding Trump accountable" constantly shifts and doesn't seem to be acknowledged, even when we are in the realm of the unprecedented for any former American president. And yet we do continue to make progress, and as I say whenever there's a development on that front, the LAST thing we should do is pre-emptively throw up our hands, despair about how it still doesn't mean anything, or just won't work. I know pessimism is easy and hopelessness feels like our default setting; the last almost-decade has kicked the absolute SHIT out of us and I won't pretend otherwise. But nonetheless, this is still happening. We just have to hang in there and do our part.

If we do that, and trust that Jack Smith and co. do theirs (as they have been doing so far), then things will probably, in fact, be okay. We cannot ever make the mistakes of 2016 again, which is why it's so maddening that a significant minority of leftist-identifying people seem determined to do exactly that, but it's certainly not as if all hope is already lost and the indictments will be a magic wand to speed Trump back to the White House (again, God forbid). We have to keep that in mind and our eyes on the goal, so yeah. We can do it and we must, and that's about all there is to it.

#anthropicmoose #ask #politics for ts #the giant orange monster

[trinketization]

Intravenous ideological global apparatus - IISAs

I am holding out for the new intravenous culture industry critique. Cannot get students to leave their screen devices alone even if they are banned in the classroom. May as well be permanently plugged in – and then I get an email from microsoft who say I can now spend even more pointless time deciding which apps are exempt from the pointedly anti screentime mechanism I had in place – “Set screen…

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[thesinglesjukebox]

ADDISON RAE - "I GOT IT BAD"

Next up, Oliver brings us a star who rose to fame from the unlikely medium of (checks notes)... TikTok!

[5.28]

Brad Shoup: This is so Swedish it hurts. It sounds like a 2020s producer trying to make a 2000s hit using a 1980s suggestiveness. It's uncanny. I like it. [6]

Oliver Maier: Some obvious Britneyisms at play here: the punctuative orchestra hits, the B-chorus near the end and the siren at the very beginning, as if Rae is literally sounding the alarm about this dangerous boy. She's blowing bubblegum on the EP cover; the genre influence is not subtle. It works though, in part because Rae winks at the camera just the right amount. There's levity when she sings "He looks like the boy next door from my boyband poster," stacking two outdated pop culture tropes on top of each other and almost rendering the whole thing pointless, but she never prods hard enough it to collapse into pastiche. The horned-up glee of a line like "It's definitely something that could ruin my life" would have been subtext about 20 years ago, but now that's just a thing we invite people to do (incidentally, the track after this one on the EP is called "2 Die 4"). There's plenty else to enjoy in the lyrics besides all that, like the in media res opening line and the way she sings "He calls on me late at night, and he calls me baby," her voice dripping with pride at earning such an accolade. But the most impressive thing to me about "I Got It Bad" is that it obviously apes a vibe without being overtly, offputtingly cynical, because the the songcraft is fucking there: a glossy, 500-horsepower instrumental where you can barely discern an instrument and a big fat chorus. Delightful stuff. [9]

Frank Falisi: Nominally, the nostalgic urge is anathema to the writing of pop songs; how can something be the most monolithic feeling you've ever felt -- and the only song your head's ever managed -- if you're remembering something else? The pureness of plastic is how it can be melted down to cover old things and if it leaves a tacky taste in the mouth, it's only after the song ends, which is to say, after the pop. You could say that "I Got It Bad" references, however obliquely, a certain millennium-break sound-strand: the production is visible, busy but submissive, never invisible but an apparatus that produces the voice as much as the vocal cords. Even more so, 2002 haunts the way the personal pronoun dominates the territory of the song, from the verse's aspiration to ascension (love or lust, or somewhere on the way) to the divinity of a pre-chorus: "Take off every piece of me/until there's only skin on my body." Who's who? Addison Rae is different from Addison in the same way Britney Spears is different from Britney. The former are screens and their signifiers, the latter the heat bodies give off, intake, machinate. "I" signifies a space between the singer and the listener, a space that only happens in the duration between the start of the sound and its end. Will we ever be able to remember the start of this sound without saying the words "Britney Spears"? Or is that part of the song ending: once the feeling severs, we're left only with the ache. Restart the song or re-find the sound, it's all relative. I got it bad. [8]

Rose Stuart: This song violently throws you back to the 2000s, when every Disney star tried their hand at being a pop diva with lyrics sexy enough to remind you the singer is now a grown woman, but with vocals kept squeaky clean lest some emotion trick you into thinking the singer was actually into it. Everything -- from the beat to Rae's singing -- sounds both awkward and bored, sliding off your brain like an advertisement's first draft. [3]

Vikram Joseph: This is what you've all been hyping? This particular iteration of "You won't believe this but I have bad taste in men!" in a year where we had Olivia Rodrigo? I mean, this is so competently executed and so utterly devoid of personality, I really could not pick this out of a line-up. With a gun to my head to name an interesting thing about this song I'd go for the early Britney cosplay in the delivery of "ruin my li-i-uh-ife", or then again I might just gamble that it wasn't loaded. [3]

Will Rivitz: I've been only partly plugged into Extremely Online pop chatter the last few years, so forgive me if I'm not currently fluent enough in its current morphology to know whether or not this is a silly question: are we serious about Addison Rae? Like, yes, I get that there's been an unceasing stream of SHE ATEs since the EP dropped, and I also get that sometimes we support camp simply for camp's sake, and I also get that some of these people unironically go to bat for Sabrina Carpenter, so please be sympathetic to my inability to parse the semiotics of this past summer. Because the EP is indisputably mid as hell! Every song is a flimsy facsimile of a different recently relevant pop girl, the lyrics read like they were written by an AI trained on Netflix-reject teen romcom scripts, and somehow everything ends up sludging out into Disney's pop bargain bin. "I Got It Bad," naturally, is no different, a forgotten *NSYNC demo spruced up by Kim Petras's producers in which every verse has about five percent too many words and a syllable or two delivered as though Rae only realized two lines didn't rhyme halfway through the second. Rae doesn't have the juice to land tricky constructions like "take off every piece of me/until there's only SKIN on MY boDY" (is your skin not a piece of you? Are you wearing someone else's???) or the pacing to make "definitely something that could ruin my life" sound like she's delivering the words in her 20s. I love oodles of popstars who Do Not Have The Range, but Addison Rae so remarkably Does Not Have The Range that the Not Range is impossible to ignore. What gives! [3]

Will Adams: I have little interest in indulging the "um you guys Addison Rae's music actually kinda slays??" bit as much as it attempts to grab me (look! a Charli feature! an exhumed Gaga demo!). But it's hard to resist the charm of "I Got It Bad". The Max Martinisms are off the charts -- orchestra hits, alternate final chorus, the "it's gonna, gonna gonna" vocal stacking, absolute nonsense lyrics -- and Addison's blankness makes way for all of it to shine. [6]

Anna Katrina Lockwood: A terrific song performed so listlessly that I am absolutely unconvinced that Addison Rae does, indeed, have it bad. [7]

Katherine St Asaph: The arrangement is great: a little freestyle, a little 2010s-era Max Martin electro, a little 2000-era Max Martin staccato stabs and final counterpoint chorus. (It's produced by Rami Yacoub -- close enough.) Everything else is not: Addison Rae's vocal nonpresence, the incompetent lyrics (Addison is credited; I believe it), and a supposedly magnetic crush that makes Taylor Swift's undangerous lovers seem like goddamn incubi. [5]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: "I don't want something right down the middle," Addison Rae shrugs on this middling track. "I Got It Bad" isn't bad, just mediocre with its anonymous pop vision. [4]

Ian Mathers: "Generic" is not necessarily a synonym for "bad." [6]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: It's definitely something. [4]

Kayla Beardslee: First time listening, and I can see why this release made noise: it's a surprisingly good Pop Girl Song from an artist whose TikTok background wasn't guaranteed to translate well to pop music. Of course, once you get past the "oh, it's good" phase, it just sounds like a run-of-the-mill pop single -- nice chorus, but there are a thousand other songs that do the same thing. [6]

Michael Hong: "She's definitely improving," goes the top comment on YouTube and you can definitely see "I Got It Bad" as something in Addison Rae's transitional stage between "Friday" and whatever the hell Rebecca Black is doing right now. [5]

Taylor Alatorre: What does it say about the continued hegemony of the Long 1980s that, even in a song with those signature Max Martin orchestra stabs and a clumsy "boy band poster" line, there's still a perceived need to drench it in a blanket of heady synthwave fog? Like, if we're going to be doing anachronisms like that, can we at least skip to the point in the nostalgia cycle where we can start having gratuitous dubstep interludes in pop songs again? Because the 2:09 mark here would be the perfect place for one. [5]

Nortey Dowuona: The drums in this song sound like they were made by Adam Feeney for the 1986 electro pop pack. BTW, pls check that out, and if you find any drum packs or loops in it, use them better than just looping them at the bottom of the track and not doing anything with them. Who did produce this btw - one of them made "My My My" and another made "Stars"? rage quit blurbing, pls finish with joke about rami youssef is the one true Ramy - [2]

Claire Biddles: Not to sound exactly like a 36 year old who always has to check if the second "T" in "TikTok" has to be capitalised, but I had no idea of the vast lore behind Ms Rae's pop career. "I Got It Bad" has the whiff of a lost golden era of pop that could easily cause commotion in parts of the internet, but it's not specific or muscular enough to carry it past pastiche for me. Still, points for the pitched-up orchestra hits and points for the unexpected body horror of "Take off every piece of me/Until there's only skin on my body." [5]

Alex Ostroff: Your enjoyment of this will entirely boil down to how easy a mark you are for retro Max Martin 1.0 tricks that he's long since moved on from but which his old Cheiron Studios colleagues and his newer students nostalgically wheel out every so often. Addison herself is completely blank and uncompelling -- a delivery mechanism who does nothing to get in the way of the hooks but nothing to sell them either. Some of the lyrics are genuinely terrible in ways reminiscent of the Swedes' early work with Backstreet. "He gives it to me more than a little"? "He got me close, but now it's official"? But "He looks like the boy next door from my boyband poster" is a pop music snake eating its own tail that verges on charming. And then the bridge ends with those gradually stacking *NSYNC vocal harmonies ascending up to pop music heaven, then slides right into a Britney-style B-chorus! None of it is as impeccably constructed as its inspirations. For one thing, Max would have had the B-chorus repeat as a counterpoint harmony under the final reprise à la "...Baby One More Time," "(You Drive Me) Crazy," and "Oops!... I Did It Again". The last time he wrote an alternate chorus without immediately repeating it as a closing harmony was Robyn's "Show Me Love" (and he could have -- try singing it over the final chorus for yourself and you'll see that it marries up just as smoothly as Britney's!). In the hands of a real Pop Star and with a bit more work, this would be excellent. As it is, it's merely a very good pop song performed by someone utterly unable to convince us to make it as massive a hit as it would be in an alternate universe. Which should probably merit a [4] or a [5], but... Your enjoyment of this will entirely boil down to how easy a mark you are for retro Max Martin 1.0 tricks that he's long since moved on from... and unfortunately when it comes to classic era Max Martin pop music tricks, "I knew I should walk away, but I went closer". It's definitely something that could ruin my life... cause I... I got it bad. [8]

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#addison rae #music #pop music #music writing #music reviews #music criticism #the singles jukebox #Youtube

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ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies Reviews 2023 SCAM ALERT Must Read Before Buying!

➢Product Name : ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies

➢Official websiteLinks:https://www.outlookindia.com/outlook-spotlight/acv-for-health-keto-acv-gummies-reviews-scam-exposed-supreme-keto-acv-gummies-canada-buy-or-not--news-271207

➢Official FacebookLinks: https://www.facebook.com/ACVForHealthKetoACVGummies/

ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies are a time tested weight reduction supplement that works by flushing out fat. It's brimming with nutrients and has an extensive variety of BHBs to ensure you don't put on weight once more.

At the point when heftiness and the illnesses that accompany it make it hard to live, you ought to pick a characteristic ketogenic arrangement immediately. Rather than depending on wellness communities and nutritionists to assist you with shedding pounds, you can assume responsibility for your existence with ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies . This recipe has been delivered after much review, trial and error, and refinement to make getting fit more straightforward.

Usa - Visit Official Site To Purchase ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies

Canada - Visit Official Site To Purchase ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies

Notwithstanding severe slimming down and the hard ketogenic plan, you can likewise attempt ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies . This weighty equation imitates the ketogenic diet's outcomes with next to no dietary vulnerability. Ketosis is a normally set off metabolic express that makes fast and simple weight reduction feasible.

What are ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies ?

Putting on weight is a difficult issue for a many individuals. Many individuals utilize the ketogenic diet to shed additional pounds that are unfavorable to their wellbeing. As of not long ago, "First class Keto ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies " have been likely to showcase tales guaranteeing they are a prevalent item. The ketogenic diet is logically shown to be powerful without undermining your wellbeing. For the people who have attempted and are fed up with a few weight reduction strategies, here is one choice to consider.

A few celebrities acclaim this forward leap in nourishing enhancements as a significant justification for their excitement about their bodies and wellbeing. All that in this post has been raised to date, remembering the most recent data for weight reduction, a moment normal fat-consuming arrangement This increments energy since it speeds up the body's metabolic rate. As this is a 100 percent normal weight reduction arrangement, you might anticipate and make progress toward utilizing it.

How advantageous are these Keto ACV ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  to your wellbeing?

ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  are a dependable weight reduction supplement that works by flushing out fat. It's brimming with nutrients and has an extensive variety of BHBs to ensure you don't put on weight once more.

As far as decreasing muscle versus fat, this methodology is powerful. Dietary enhancements that impersonate the macronutrient profiles of the ketogenic diet, like ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies , are accessible. The two genders can utilize these ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  to get in shape.

With customary utilization of ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies , you can accomplish top state of being. Numerous medical advantages are acquired; it is a fantastic apparatus for forestalling pointless and possibly hurtful weight reduction. This arrangement permits you to enter ketosis without upsetting your ongoing physiological state.

Restricted Arrangement Usa - Purchase ACV ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  At 40% Limited Cost

Restricted Arrangement Canada - Purchase ACV ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  At 40% Limited Cost

What are the fixings utilized in the ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies ?

The fixings utilized in ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  make this supplement the best weight reduction ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies .

Apple Juice Vinegar: One of the main parts of a creation that paces up the digestion is apple juice vinegar. The enhancement for weight reduction is magnificent, and the high convergence of ACV that it contains is something that you will like.

BHB Ketones: This exogenous substance is one of the synthetics used to build endurance and execution. Beta-hydroxybutyrate is the substance that sets off the ketosis cycle inside the human body. It will support ketones, which thus will help your energy and assist you with shedding pounds all the more rapidly.

Garcinia Cambogia: This fluid is produced using the spice's foods grown from the ground remembered to slow weight reduction. It is additionally called Malabar tamarind with hydroxycitric corrosive. In light of this part, you can eat less food despite everything feel fulfilled.

Dandelion separate: potassium and cell reinforcements assist with diminishing craving and forestall eating between feasts. This part can diminish weight, yet its viability and productivity are enormously upgraded when joined with some other substance.

Eucalyptus Tea: As a mitigating, eucalyptus helps with the battle against sickness transmission. As a result of the viability of this substance, you can build your blood stream and decline your feelings of anxiety with next to no unfavorable secondary effects. The example of your blood stream will likewise improve quickly and easily.

Are There Any Unfriendly Impacts of ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies ?

There is no assurance that ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  will assist you with enduring difficult stretches — every individual who needs to dispose of abundance fat rapidly and effectively can utilize your weight reduction arrangement. In the event that you accept the enhancement as coordinated, the body will make no hurtful impacts, including the aggregation of poisons or synthetic compounds. The people who are not pregnant, nursing moms, or under 18 are free to buy the cheap weight reduction item. You can quit searching for a fix at the present time and not track down any fat game whatsoever.

How Could You Consume ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies ?

Take the Keto Life In addition to cases per the maker's guidelines and consume the suggested measure of two ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  day to day. Your 30-day supply of tablets ought to be adequate to last the entire month. Visit the site for the item to figure out additional data about the weight reduction pill and how to utilize it actually to accomplish the best potential outcomes. Monitoring your advancement is a lot less difficult on the off chance that you reliably gauge yourself on a scale and record the outcomes.

Where Could You at any point Purchase ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies ?

Purchasing ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  is an extraordinary decision with regards to getting in shape soundly and economically. In the event that you visit the authority Keto maker's site, you can get truly extraordinary arrangements on full-range ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies .

Because of limitations on the offer of ketogenic things in odds and ends shops, ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies are just accessible on the web. In this way, you want not take off from your home to make an exchange.

Restricted Arrangement Usa - Purchase ACV ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  At 40% Limited Cost

Restricted Arrangement Canada - Purchase ACV ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  At 40% Limited Cost

Keto makers selling their products online regularly offer full discounts, speedy reactions to client assistance requests, trustworthy items and administrations, and accommodating client assistance to tempt shoppers to buy.

In the span of one month of procurement, clients can return the unused piece of any keto item for a full discount. Continue to actually look at the webpage for new arrangements, and you can rapidly and effectively submit a request on the web.

Regularly Sought clarification on pressing issues:

How precisely can ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  help in weight reduction?

Basically, ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  assist the body with entering ketosis. Ketosis helps with fat misfortune, absorption, and ideal metabolic capability. This classification incorporates spices filled in the wild that are wealthy in different supplements, like proteins and fiber.

Is it protected to involve ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies ?

ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  are alright for standard use and utilization. These ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  are productive in advancing fat misfortune for all kinds of people, and their exhibition is excellent. Those attempting to manage down their waistline might consider utilizing ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  since they are effectively retained and produce positive outcomes.

What number of ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  do you eat everyday?

To launch your weight reduction, take a stab at eating a few ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  everyday. Keto confections, which are sweet yet not good enough for you, are a recommended nibble. Large people can profit from taking this dose consistently, which significantly speeds up and improves on the method involved with shedding pounds.

Assuming you need better and better results, remaining hydrated, eating strongly, getting a lot of rest, and consistently biting ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  are significant. Caution: look for clinical counsel prior to utilizing and don't take more than the suggested portion.

Customers who follow the prescribed measurement of a few ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  day to day for 60 to 90 days will see the best impacts.

#ACVForHealthKetoACVGummiesReveiews

[acvforhealthketoacvgummiesinbuy]

ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies Must Read Before Buy.

➢Product Name : ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies

➢Official websiteLinks:https://www.outlookindia.com/outlook-spotlight/acv-for-health-keto-acv-gummies-reviews-scam-exposed-supreme-keto-acv-gummies-canada-buy-or-not--news-271207

➢Official FacebookLinks: https://www.facebook.com/ACVForHealthKetoACVGummies/

ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  are a time tested weight reduction supplement that works by flushing out fat. It's brimming with nutrients and has an extensive variety of BHBs to ensure you don't put on weight once more.

At the point when heftiness and the illnesses that accompany it make it hard to live, you ought to pick a characteristic ketogenic arrangement immediately. Rather than depending on wellness communities and nutritionists to assist you with shedding pounds, you can assume responsibility for your existence with ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies . This recipe has been delivered after much review, trial and error, and refinement to make getting fit more straightforward.

Usa - Visit Official Site To Purchase ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies

Canada - Visit Official Site To Purchase ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies

Notwithstanding severe slimming down and the hard ketogenic plan, you can likewise attempt ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies . This weighty equation imitates the ketogenic diet's outcomes with next to no dietary vulnerability. Ketosis is a normally set off metabolic express that makes fast and simple weight reduction feasible.

What are ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies ?

Putting on weight is a difficult issue for a many individuals. Many individuals utilize the ketogenic diet to shed additional pounds that are unfavorable to their wellbeing. As of not long ago, "First class Keto ACV ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies " have been likely to showcase tales guaranteeing they are a prevalent item. The ketogenic diet is logically shown to be powerful without undermining your wellbeing. For the people who have attempted and are fed up with a few weight reduction strategies, here is one choice to consider.

A few celebrities acclaim this forward leap in nourishing enhancements as a significant justification for their excitement about their bodies and wellbeing. All that in this post has been raised to date, remembering the most recent data for weight reduction, a moment normal fat-consuming arrangement This increments energy since it speeds up the body's metabolic rate. As this is a 100 percent normal weight reduction arrangement, you might anticipate and make progress toward utilizing it.

How advantageous are these Keto ACV ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  to your wellbeing?

ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  are a dependable weight reduction supplement that works by flushing out fat. It's brimming with nutrients and has an extensive variety of BHBs to ensure you don't put on weight once more.

As far as decreasing muscle versus fat, this methodology is powerful. Dietary enhancements that impersonate the macronutrient profiles of the ketogenic diet, like ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies , are accessible. The two genders can utilize these ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  to get in shape.

With customary utilization of ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies , you can accomplish top state of being. Numerous medical advantages are acquired; it is a fantastic apparatus for forestalling pointless and possibly hurtful weight reduction. This arrangement permits you to enter ketosis without upsetting your ongoing physiological state.

Restricted Arrangement Usa - Purchase ACV ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  At 40% Limited Cost

Restricted Arrangement Canada - Purchase ACV ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  At 40% Limited Cost

What are the fixings utilized in the ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies ?

The fixings utilized in ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  make this supplement the best weight reduction ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies .

Apple Juice Vinegar: One of the main parts of a creation that paces up the digestion is apple juice vinegar. The enhancement for weight reduction is magnificent, and the high convergence of ACV that it contains is something that you will like.

BHB Ketones: This exogenous substance is one of the synthetics used to build endurance and execution. Beta-hydroxybutyrate is the substance that sets off the ketosis cycle inside the human body. It will support ketones, which thus will help your energy and assist you with shedding pounds all the more rapidly.

Garcinia Cambogia: This fluid is produced using the spice's foods grown from the ground remembered to slow weight reduction. It is additionally called Malabar tamarind with hydroxycitric corrosive. In light of this part, you can eat less food despite everything feel fulfilled.

Dandelion separate: potassium and cell reinforcements assist with diminishing craving and forestall eating between feasts. This part can diminish weight, yet its viability and productivity are enormously upgraded when joined with some other substance.

Eucalyptus Tea: As a mitigating, eucalyptus helps with the battle against sickness transmission. As a result of the viability of this substance, you can build your blood stream and decline your feelings of anxiety with next to no unfavorable secondary effects. The example of your blood stream will likewise improve quickly and easily.

Are There Any Unfriendly Impacts of ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies ?

There is no assurance that ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  will assist you with enduring difficult stretches — every individual who needs to dispose of abundance fat rapidly and effectively can utilize your weight reduction arrangement. In the event that you accept the enhancement as coordinated, the body will make no hurtful impacts, including the aggregation of poisons or synthetic compounds. The people who are not pregnant, nursing moms, or under 18 are free to buy the cheap weight reduction item. You can quit searching for a fix at the present time and not track down any fat game whatsoever.

How Could You Consume ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies ?

Take the Keto Life In addition to cases per the maker's guidelines and consume the suggested measure of two ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  day to day. Your 30-day supply of tablets ought to be adequate to last the entire month. Visit the site for the item to figure out additional data about the weight reduction pill and how to utilize it actually to accomplish the best potential outcomes. Monitoring your advancement is a lot less difficult on the off chance that you reliably gauge yourself on a scale and record the outcomes.

Where Could You at any point Purchase ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies ?

Purchasing ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  is an extraordinary decision with regards to getting in shape soundly and economically. In the event that you visit the authority Keto maker's site, you can get truly extraordinary arrangements on full-range ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies .

Because of limitations on the offer of ketogenic things in odds and ends shops, ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  are just accessible on the web. In this way, you want not take off from your home to make an exchange.

Restricted Arrangement Usa - Purchase ACV ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  At 40% Limited Cost

Restricted Arrangement Canada - Purchase ACV ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  At 40% Limited Cost

Keto makers selling their products online regularly offer full discounts, speedy reactions to client assistance requests, trustworthy items and administrations, and accommodating client assistance to tempt shoppers to buy.

In the span of one month of procurement, clients can return the unused piece of any keto item for a full discount. Continue to actually look at the webpage for new arrangements, and you can rapidly and effectively submit a request on the web.

Regularly Sought clarification on pressing issues:

How precisely can ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  help in weight reduction?

Basically, ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  assist the body with entering ketosis. Ketosis helps with fat misfortune, absorption, and ideal metabolic capability. This classification incorporates spices filled in the wild that are wealthy in different supplements, like proteins and fiber.

Is it protected to involve ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies ?

ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  are alright for standard use and utilization. These ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  are productive in advancing fat misfortune for all kinds of people, and their exhibition is excellent. Those attempting to manage down their waistline might consider utilizing ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  since they are effectively retained and produce positive outcomes.

 What number of ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  do you eat everyday?

To launch your weight reduction, take a stab at eating a few ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  everyday. Keto confections, which are sweet yet not good enough for you, are a recommended nibble. Large people can profit from taking this dose consistently, which significantly speeds up and improves on the method involved with shedding pounds.

Assuming you need better and better results, remaining hydrated, eating strongly, getting a lot of rest, and consistently biting ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  are significant. Caution: look for clinical counsel prior to utilizing and don't take more than the suggested portion.

Customers who follow the prescribed measurement of a few ACV For Health Keto ACV Gummies  day to day for 60 to 90 days will see the best impacts.

#ACVForHealthKetoACVGummies #ACVForHealthKetoACVGummiesPrice #ACVForHealthKetoACVGummiesBenefits #ACVForHealthKetoACVGummiesReveiews #ACVForHealthKetoACVGummiesIngredients

#ACVForHealthKetoACVGummiesBenefits

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A Short Prologue to Waste Disposal and Junk Removal

Waste disposal is a need and something that each home and office as need might arise to manage consistently. Inability to discard waste on time can prompt various issues including disease and serious contaminations. Waste disposal is tied in with putting out your waste for assortment. A waste disposal company removes the waste that you put out. The gathered rubbish is then stored into a waste depot for arranging. Anything that is recyclable is then put to the side for recycling with the rest being stored in a landfill.

In excess of six billion occupy our planet. These six billion individuals are making waste as plastic and cardboard food bundles, aluminum jars and that's only the tip of the iceberg. A considerable lot of us don't have the foggiest idea where this waste goes once we toss it out. Where does the gathered garbage and waste go? They go to a dump. Waste as well as junk are saved in a dump either over the ground or set in a profound opening that is dove into the earth. Garbage is saved into the opening till there is no more space for more rubbish.

Such sort of waste disposal and junk removal work is done day to day and a large number of years. The dumps get the waste till there is no more space left in the dump. When a dump tops off totally, another one is used. If there is no space for a dump in one city or town then the waste is shipped off another town or dump which has a dump that can hold this waste.

Old dumps experience the ill effects of an intense issue which is that of polluting chemicals. These chemicals are dangerous because they can easily saturate the dirt and the water and cause undesirable and pointless pollution.

There are companies which give waste disposal and junk removal services. These services are proposed to building destinations, workplaces, brick and mortar stores and homes. At the point when you hire a waste disposal and junk removal company, a group of specialists will deal with the arranging, loading, hauling and recycling as well as other disposal of a wide range of waste and junk.

Before hiring a waste disposal and junk removal company you should figure out what sort of services the company gives. In any event, you should look for services like furniture and electrical removal, apparatus recycling, bedding removal or disposal and metal recycling or removal as well as hardware recycling.

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