Just wanted to share that name for the shitbird convoy. The Flu Trux Klan. It’s so damn funny, I don’t want to see any mention of those scumbags that doesn’t include it. Mad props to whoever coined this.
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Just wanted to share that name for the shitbird convoy. The Flu Trux Klan. It’s so damn funny, I don’t want to see any mention of those scumbags that doesn’t include it. Mad props to whoever coined this.
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I was thinking about different kinds of people I’ve known, or known of, and the things they got going on. In their heads. Which made me think about my sister, who got the formal diagnosis of Antisocial Personality Disorder – the condition informally known as sociopathy. If you’ve gotten to know somebody well who has that diagnosis, it might still be easy to think of them as soulless, hollow, robotic. My sister can look sad, more often look mad, say she wants this or that out of life, but pathologically she returns to the same behavior pattern she’s been doing since younger than age four – allying with one party to emotionally torment another. She easily rewrites her own history and seems able to genuinely believe the new story.
The condition has a grip there. She can’t seem to do anything that contravenes it. Abusing people is, for her, like breathing. It is, metaphorically, autonomic. (i’m fucken pretentious tonight) But who is she, outside of that? Does she have something like a heart? Does she have feelings? I haven’t seen her in more than twenty years but I bet I know her better than anyone she’s met since, and I don’t really know the answer for that with certainty. But I feel like it’s Yes?
Anybody over a certain age from the PNW has some kind of memory of The Shane Company’s dry, dry radio commercials. I remember he was at the corner of 4th and Stewart, and I remember that slogan: “Now you have a friend in the diamond business – the Shane Company.” Anyway, they finally gave the bear an English voice in Duolingo and he sounds exactly like those commercials. No growl, no fun allowed. I’m annoyed.
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It’s hard to judge what a reasonable level of fear is in reaction to shitty events, and there are plenty of extremely shitty events going on in the world right now. (Thanks, fascists! Please eat shit and die at your earliest convenience.) That said, there are a loooot of people on the internet right now stoking panic. Like Putin makes a lazy threat about hacking our shit and tweets and subreddits explode, telling you to run for the hills immediately lest you fall victim to supply chain banditos.
Harden the fuck up, you ridiculous cowards. You make it harder for people to judge what that reasonable level of fear is, by ratcheting every little thing up to “cannibal holocaust.” You spread anxiety and dread and turn stomachs and ruin people’s days. The way you talk, I imagine you trembling like little chihuahuas with urine running down your thighs as you clack out your terrified tweets. Yeah, especially those of you with guns.
Do you live in America? Are you not a member of an oppressed minority at the moment? (No, xtians don’t count.) You’re going to be fine. Some bad stuff will happen. Wildfires burning up your cabins, rising tides taking out your timeshares. But compared to people in Ukraine, or Russia, or anywhere near the Equator? Your life is going to be a cakewalk – at least until you’re old and infirm enough to be considered disposable by republicans. Drink in the freedom, manbabies. Calm the fuck down.
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Seems like the internet isn’t being very productive for me today, but I’m intentionally not following politics. I wonder if the people I follow on social media are all glued to TV wondering if it’s time for hot war with Russia. What are you doing today?
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CONTENT WARNINGS: Horror Content.
After the last day of our Monster Hearts Challenge, my writing group got to do one more monster, choosing from the following categories that had not previously won any round of voting. Which would you write about? Which monster would you grant the gift of human romance?
ANIMALISTIC — EXAMPLES: Cat people, Sneeple, Ninja Turtle, Easter Bunny
BODY HORROR — EXAMPLES: Tetsuos of Iron Man and Akira type, Blob, Cronenbergian
CONSTRUCTED — EXAMPLES: Frankenstein creatures, Golems, Homunculi, Pinocchio
CRYPTID — EXAMPLES: Bigfoot, Mothman, Chupacabra, Jersey Devil
ELDRITCH — EXAMPLES: Lovecraftian, Elder god, Tentacled
GIANT — EXAMPLES: Kaiju, Ogre, Giant, Troll
HYBRID — EXAMPLES: Sphynx, Chimera, Egyptian God, Naga
INCORPOREAL — EXAMPLES: Invisible man, Incorporeal alien, Imaginary friend, Ghosts, Poltergeist, Patrick Swayzes
INSECTOID — EXAMPLES: Brundlefly, Mimic, Wasp woman, Giant Spider
J-HORROR — EXAMPLES: Grudge, Sadako, Split-mouth woman
LEGEND — EXAMPLES: Slenderman, Candyman, Bloody Mary, ManDoorHandHookCarDoor
LIVING OBJECT — EXAMPLES: Living mannequin, Christine, Chuckie, Magic Mirror
TINY — EXAMPLES: Sprite, Miniature Humanoids, Gnome, Gremlin
VIRTUAL — EXAMPLES: Rogue AI, Hologram, Vocaloid, Max Headroom
YOKAI — EXAMPLES: Long neck woman, Tengu, Kappa
If you remember how I did last time, you know I tried to use all of them in one concept…
Content Warnings: Horror Content, Unhealthy Relationships, Ironic Ableisms
My writing discord did an event called Monster Hearts, named after an RPG that’s probably too racy for people like ourselves to actually play. The idea is, like in our Spooktober, to take a monster type and come up with a story idea to go with it – one for each day of the month up to and including Valentine’s Day. This time, though, the stories have to involve a passionate relationship between a human and a monster. I give you my monster hearts. Happy lovin’ day.
I was trying to remember the name of the AI in Portal and was like, “the cake liar in the hole shooty game.” Y’all know what it is.
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I had a dream last night that I don’t remember well, outside of these few specifics. I’ve never had a pet mouse or rat or been interested to, but in this dream I had a mouse that was the size of a small rat. It died and we had to report it to some government agency. As a small animal, for proof of death I was able to submit his entire body through the mail. We received the body back along with a partially calligraphic letter offering official condolences on our loss.
I noticed his body was in perfect condition. While cool to the touch, I kept feeling like there were little movements in him. Lo and behold, he woke up. I was happy to tell my boyfriend he was, in fact, alive. The report of his demise was made in error.
I was so happy, in fact, that I felt a sense of relief and of love for the little animal, unadulterated by conscious self-awareness and bitterness. Pure love, quickly forgotten on waking. But I had a sense that I lost something in the transition to waking life, that I should have stayed asleep. You ever fall in love in a dream? Have a friend or lover or relative in a dream who does not exist in real life, where waking up felt like a real loss?
It’s nothing now, but funny how our minds can do that to us.
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I saw “You are loved” on a church sign. Not the first time I’ve seen this sentiment but it’s the first time I can remember this occurring to me. What’s being proposed here is that the all powerful super creator of humanity and the universe has particular care for each of us, as individuals. Anything good that happens to us comes from that care, anything bad doesn’t matter because he’ll make up for it when you’re dead.
What I realized is that this lets all xtians off the hook from genuinely caring about anyone. If young jeezy is taking care of everybody, we don’t have to do that at all. He exhorted people to care for the poor and the ill, but clearly that is just a hobbyist pursuit – not a genuine responsibility – because god’s love is enough.
That would be a good logical excuse for why xtians hate social services, but I suspect there’s no reasoning behind it. Rather they just don’t want to pay for the care of others and assume their religion endorses any given thing they feel as part of their conservative identity, without any need for actual knowledge of the words in the holy books. Much like “geeks” assume they’re intelligent because it’s part of the geek social identity rather than any useful metric (assuming such are even possible).
That’s all.
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