Misplaced Lens Cap

blake kathryn
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Stranger Things

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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

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@withastolenlantern
The only reason I was able to read as voraciously as I did growing up was because of mass market paperbacks.
Special hardcover editions are nice or paperbacks with deckle edges and sprayed sides, but the mass market paperback is the pillar of society.
I just want to live in a world where I don't have to wake up every morning and not wonder which country he's threatening to invade or which of my neighbors has been shot. Is that too much to ask.
A directory of places to give to as Minnesota defends itself from ICE occupation
For those of you who don't live here, I can tell you point blank that this argument that everyone protesting/watching ICE in Minnesota right now is some kind of "paid" or "organized" agitators is absolutely, patently false.
I've been a member of one of the local curling clubs in St. Paul for six years and let me tell you, it's a pretty upper-middle-class white person sport. Our leagues are co-ed but I think there's maybe one brown or black person in my league, if that. I've seen maybe a handful of non-white people at club-wide events over the years. And in my experience, most of us are some kind of white or blue collar professionals- engineers, lawyers, nurses. Truck drivers. Accountants and school teachers. Retirees.
The other thing to know is that curling is also a very social sport and it's expected that you will sit and socialize and drink with your competitors before and after the game, at least for a bit. So you get to know people.
And let me tell you, almost everyone I talked to last night had at least one ICE encounter story. Whether they were out protesting themselves, or had a spouse who was, or a neighbor who was disappeared or assaulted, or a child whose school was locked down, everyone had something. And the commentary was UNIVERSALLY negative. No 'well we should just follow orders' or 'FAFO' or 'she did this to herself.' it was 100% "fuck these bitches, get out of our city."
So no, this is not some kind of liberal rebellion or coordinated assault to protect "rapists and pedophiles" like Secretary Puppy-Killer wants us to believe. It's just regular people who love our neighbors and want to protect our homes. The only "organized terror" happening is the one these poorly-trained goons create, and the word "organized" is doing a lot of heavy lifting there.
Pack up, go home, and leave us the fuck alone. You will not break this people. Even the fucking CURLERS are pissed, and that tells you everything you need to know.
The dumbest thing about this is that they're trying but they won't win.
I used to tell myself, don't get cozy, this isn't your home, it's a temporary stop. That was eighteen years ago. I was young and naive and assumed I'd outgrow this cutesy Midwestern "city." But then I settled down and married and found a home and a career and a dog. I found friends and a snowplow service and a soccer team with an outstanding logo and post-game karaoke. I found an approximation of purpose, with a decent salary and technical challenges and a team worth giving my all. I found Juicy Lucys, and a local queer brewery with a good cream ale, and a middle-aged curling team with hockey jerseys that's beer first and winning second. I found a community, even if I tried to avoid it.
I don't even know most of their names because I'm that shitty neighbor on the block, but I do know their stories. I've seen three ambulances called for Barb-next-door's elderly husband. I've watched Sara's kids grow from wide-eyed witches at Halloween sheepishly accepting a full sized Hershey bar to college sophomores with a red Honda Fit.
I shake my head every time I walk passed the ten foot pastel skeleton adorned with flowers that peers over the fence just down the block. I laugh every time the dog stops just past the park, sticking his nose to the sky, when I hear the rooster click and giggle "chickens!" to myself. I've winced at the one house two blocks over that proudly displays his New York mugshot for all to see. You know the one.
And that's the thing. I'm not even a good Minnesotan because my heart of hearts still belongs to Philly. But I've found a home here and if there's one thing I've learned it's that the Scandinavian bonds forged over hot-dishes and cold winters is inviolate. This is a community and a people and ideal that cannot be broken. "Love thy neighbor as thy self" isn't so much a commandment as a practicality when it's ten below with four foot snow drifts. This city and these people, me included, will get through this. We did it during the aftermath of George Floyd and if anything that made us better at it. I've looked out the window seven times today because the rental across the street is currently occupied by a Latino family and I have no idea of their immigration status, nor do I care, but if the unmarked cars show up I will yell and scream and threaten.
So a week or a month or a year from now when these fascist goons finally give up and run away to terrorize some other city and some other people in a hope to accelerate their war on the American people, the only thing they'll take with them is the black of eye or having lost. They will hurt, and kill, some of us for sure. But not all of us. "We had whistles, they had guns", we but we have more. And they'll have to own that failure. They'll be stuck with that frozen albatross corpse around their neck, a badge of their ineptitude.
A while back there was a post screenshotting some fool on Twitter's celebration that cuts to science funding would get rid of supposedly "useless" research on "the sex lives of beetles." This sparked a conversation about how these research projects being cut out or stopped actually are very important.
It is true, and at the same time, I think it is an important cultural value as a society to value knowledge for its own sake. Ultimately the justification for this might have something to do with "usefulness" ("research is always useful somehow") but the only societies that would benefit from this, would be those that value apparently-useless research.
The last book you read is where you go after you die. Are you okay?
yes!!!!
no????
a secret third thing (put it in the comments/tags)
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Solitude
Paul Delvaux
1955
LUNE Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 (2025) dev. Sandfall Interactive