fayanora: SK avatar (Default)
LOL my roommate told me how she found this silvery (probably steel) stag horn in a bush by a snake handler's hook and gynecological stirrups; she wondered why those things were there, and I said, "Maybe one of the Ah'Koi Bahnis visited Earth," while pointing at this picture on my wall:

Under the cut for size )

No, that is not a worm or a snake. Yes, that is zir penis. It is prehensile. Yes, the Ah'Koi Bahnis are hermaphrodites.
neonvincent: Detroit where the weak are killed and eaten T-shirt design (Default)
Saved comments aren't the only records whose potential loss from this CPU becoming nonfunctional or obsolete worry me. So do my listings of the top posts of every month from my main blog, Crazy Eddie's Motie News. I normally turn those into monthly summary posts, but I haven't done so since posting August 2016's stats last September. Therefore, I'm alternating posting saved comments with monthly stats, again in reverse chronological order, beginning with May 2017's listing.

May 2017's stats and top posts behind the cut. )



neonvincent: For posts about cats and activities involving uniforms. (Krosp)
One of today's "On This Day" notifications on Facebook was the first status I wrote on this computer two years ago.  That made me a bit anxious, as my desktops have lasted about two years on average before they either become obsolete or something bad befalls them.  That compounded another anxiety of mine, that I would lose the comments I've saved on my desktop computer that I sometimes recycle for blog posts.  A recent event made that anxiety more acute; the closing of The Archdruid Report and The Well of Galabes, complete with the loss of all my comments there.  I have all of them from January 2015 to the present saved, but all of them from 2013 and 2014, including some that I thought needed re-examination, are all lost.  I don't want that to happen to the rest because of computer failure, so I'm saving them here in reverse chronological order, beginning with the ones from May 2017.  Most are from Kunstler's blog, but there are also comments from Booman Tribune and The Well of Galabes.

Saved comments from Kunstler's blog, Well of Galabes, and Booman Tribune behind this text. )

In Memoriam

Jun. 26th, 2017 04:48 pm[personal profile] onyxlynx
onyxlynx: Some trees and a fountain at a cemetery (A Fine and Private Place)
All New York Times obits.
halialkers: (Default)
 Chapter IV: 

Idle as a painted ship/upon a painted ocean-Rime of the Ancient Mariner
 

They stood by the sign with a kind of sick fascination. For a moment flashes of memory that were only possible with minds partially human came. In their bassinets they had been sleeping when a monstrous force had stormed into the hospital, a towering mountainous flaying force hewn in a quasi-human form. The God on the Gilded Throne was six feet shorter than the usual avatars she projected even in her armor but a fourteen foot tall god that had erupted into Gotham and callously murdered innocent and guilty alike and reduced the place to a horrific charnel house had a way of remaining a clear and present presence in the minds and hearts of them whom the beast had fallen upon and devoured. 

Then they looked to the right of the monument. And for a moment time itself stood still. 

Two infants in a statue held by hands and wrists without arms. The names Karlee Meir and Rachel Roth, the 'Lost Ones'. 

Us. 

Meir sighed and then flexed for the first time unconsciously something she would come to do very knowingly and replaced her Azarathi garments with a golden armor with a black cape, raising a hood over her brown face, her white pupilless seemingly blind yet far-seeing eyes gleaming. Rachel Roth likewise replaced the flowing dress she'd worn beneath her Azarathi robes with a much smaller and more form-fitting kind of plate-armor, and they looked into Gotham. 

Should we risk that they will know who we are? 


Rachel shrugged. 

We've seen what the God on the Gilded Throne can do. It calls you sister, perhaps you can cloud minds as readily as it can if they do. 

With that the two then took their first steps into Gotham, entering the decaying East End. It was a city at once modern and ancient, solid and liquid, air and stone. Gambrel roofs that seemed more in place in ancient New England where over them danced witch-fires vied with newer buildings that were corroded with rust on the screens. Doors sagged and the stench and slime of mold was all too present. A low-edged hum of despair that was almost tangible even to non-empaths and which was seemingly overpowering at first to Rachel Roth was there, and for a moment she fanced she saw a swollen-bodied nude woman with a fanged mouth gazing with sad and almost protective eyes before vanishing. 

Further they strode into Gotham, the empathic presence of Dagger beginning to manifest for the first time. The God on the GIlded Throne and her avatars, the monstrous entity known as the Azar was a knife that flayed the soul and carved and butchered without pity or shame. The Lightdancer was an elemental tempest, a living storm wrought in demi-human form and even in her purely human guise a storm-scale living testament to divinity wrought in a human guise. 

Dagger herself was a figure who transcended categories and unknown to her but not as much to her sister who gazed for a moment with wonder and then sadness and horror and sadness again would become quite monstrous for this. A being whose defiance of the writ in stone order of things made her presence hard to quantify, something in a tooth that could never be found yet never gotten out. A spectre always on the edge of consciousness yet not seen and an impending and nightmarish presence. A shining brilliant eye-searing light of gold that left blindness and confusion where once had been order. 

Unknown to Rachel Roth likewise her own presence was beginning to flower outside of Azarath. Something like a storm-cloud in her own right, but where the Lightdancer was a being of hope and awe and dread terrible aspect in her storm-wrought presence, the daughter of the demon was something ominous. Hellscape made flesh, something monstrous and the blazing hell-light writ into human form, not a figure of dismal darkness as human imagination in its wretched bigotry would have wished but light, brilliant and terrible as the sun or an atomic bomb. A willowy tall being with a dancer's grace and a nightmare and harbinger of death, and likewise to her sister of choice  a being even then deciding to grasp a power akin to hers. Hers the destiny to level worlds? No. Hers the destiny to save them. 

It was then that as they walked in the moonlight a figure strode up to them. He was a tall man in a purple suit with green hair and a rictus, a cringing whipped person whose back was still bleeding from the pain following him. A harlequin and a mad clown, and as he turned to them he doffed his hat facing not one monster of a make unknown to him but two. 

"Tell me, children, have you ever danced with the Devil in the pale moonlight?" 

Rachel prepared to move but Karlee placed a finger on her shoulder and smiled. 

No sis, let me. 

She lowered her hood and a brown face with carbonized charring appeared, her flesh still reflecting her natural form and content in her brownness she turned to look at the monstrous lunatic. 

You don't know the Devil, little man. 

Casting off the glamor that had made her seem more human she swelled to a height without her armor of fourteen feet and within to twenty feet. That same wrenching presence as a monster of the outside context, the jarring of the carefully created systems made her jar even the eyes of the deranged and savage Joker, who realized with a start that for all that he knew he was a being of two dimensions, lines of ink and pencil, balloons and the like, and that his atrocities would help continue his existence and that of his world that he faced another being equally aware. A being grasping that awareness for the first time. 

Rachel looked with a start as a balloon suddenly manifested over the Joker reaching from his mouth with a jagged element on his laughter as tears fell from his eyes. Karlee Meir smiled ruthlessly and then grabbed the balloon straight away from the Joker's head. 

Odd font, this. What is this? Comic sans? Really? You, the Joker speak with COMIC SANS? 

That last pair of words was a sudden bellow that caught Rachel by surprise and as she watched she realized appropriately for a moment that here in their home, out of the shadow of a greater deity, she was watching the moment in time at which a fledgling entity grasped a greater truth. It was then that she herself grasped that truth and realized with awe that in every world and clime there were multiple iterations of the same people. She could be a being of three dimensions, or two dimensions. A being crafted out of words or clay. 

This then was part of how to extend life. She could defy the great contours of fate itself with this knowledge given time and space, could extend a cycle until it was postponed and never came. Not the destroyer and the monster she'd seen in Azarath, a savior and a redeemer. These thoughts passed in a whirl within time and the twenty foot tall being that was her sister was striding toward the Joker, a speech balloon appearing over her mouth, one colored with a riotous rainbow like aspect and written with a jagged font that represented a tear in reality. A dark blue almost purple italic text that was visible in the lighter part of the rainbow's coloration: 

Comic sans. I knew you were an evil bastard. 

Then raising the balloon in a mocking salute she began to blur and smash into the Joker with his own speech balloon, the blows raining on him with a speed and strength that he had no means to contest, leaving him wrecked in less than a minute. Harley leaped to protect her lover and master but a glancing blow with the balloon led to her falling unconscious and then the balloon seemed to vanish in thin air. 

Rachel Roth looked to her sister in awe, saying: 

So that's the great secret, then. 


She looked with surprise at her own speech balloon. Where Dagger's was a rainbow coloration and a dark blue italic font, hers was a squiggly one reflecting the infrasound reverberations in her speech pattern, some text bold and others normal in contrast to the ones of her sister. 

It is indeed. We are all of us products of a creation by a blind idiot god at the center of nuclear space. Our existence is a random set of events stacked together with beginning, middle, and end. Climax and resolution, plot twists, and all that crap. 


She shrugged. 

All of us at this level know that, I think. Most of us just use it to gain power and to become the central characters and greater scope forces maneuvering mortals and then mocking about what fools those mortals be.  Arrogant, that. We make them pawns and then laugh at them for games they don't get choices to be involved in. We make them puppets, and then because we overawe them pretend that they are inferior to beings that give them no option but to be manipulated. 

She shrugged again and then they resumed walking in Gotham, aware of its two-dimensional aspects now that they saw it and the more fascinated and repelled by it all the same: 

I don't really care past a certain point. I realized when I grabbed that damned balloon that I'm in the most annoying part of any story, really. The origin. The point where I am evolving to be awesome and yet not as awesome as I could be expected to be. 


She then sighed. 

Gotham. Bah. 


For a moment she looked down and rubbed the back of her head and sighed on a different note. 

I came to bury our mothers but the time's not right for that. More things to do, more horrors to uncover. Wonders to witness at the dawn of a new age. 


A portal opened in an alley and a drunk who watched it dropped his booze and decided from that point he'd rather be sober. The portal opened outward in Metropolis, ironically enough in Suicide Slum. 

Dagger sighed. 

Really? We couldn't come out in the nice shiny financial district? Really? 


She shook her head. 

All right. Well, we're here. Now what shal-

It was then that she saw with a terrible smile the next phase of things and her growing power and knowledge and her sister's likewise led the two to suddenly alter all that they were doing. A monstrous figure lurched out of a building it had torn down, roaring in discontent and anger. 

Kalibak, son of a pitiless and dreadful god from beyond the stars. 

And toward Kalibak was hurling a brilliant figure, a blur of red and blue, a figure that held Rachel in awe and it was then that the look of confusion on the part of Karlee was replaced with first a wide-eyed stare of comprehension and then a smile that began to cross her face with a shark's grin of razor teeth. 
 
A new financial crisis may be coming up in the emerging economies that could cause much more damage than 2008 - that is what a World Bank report says after having analysed the international transactions of the central banks of most major economies.

The dark forecast mostly causes concern about fast developing markets such as China, which the experts are showing signs of over-heating. And there is also the problem of backdoor local borrowing, which helps increase debt. They remind of the situation in the US and UK just before the 2008 crisis. Now these new problems could send the whole economy into another downward spiral for a few years. The central banks may find themselves compelled to abruptly raise the interest rates to fight inflation, which would otherwise suffocate economic growth.

China's rising debt, and Trump's promise of economic protectionism are the main causes for concern. Right now, China's debt is 166% of the GDP, which is double its size from a decade ago. The debt in other countries in the Asian-Pacific region is also rising - Thailand and Hong Kong for example.

The global economy is still recovering from the global crisis and the euro crisis from 2008-2010. In both cases, the systematic problems were caused by disproportionately large debt-to-GDP ratios, and this situation looks likely to repeat soon again.

Selected Shorts

Jun. 25th, 2017 03:15 pm[personal profile] onyxlynx
onyxlynx: Five bells, large drum, and a gong at Chapel of the Chimes (heh) Solstice fest. (Sounding brass)
So skippy the bush kangaroo linked to an article by Kelefa Sanneh in The New Yorker titled "The Persistence of Prog Rock," which although it doesn't mention it, is probably springboarding off the deaths of Keith Emerson and Greg Lake last year.

Apparently I wasn't supposed to like prog rock (puts on "Karn Evil 9," ha.) Also, I was amused after a fashion that though the Mellotron was mentioned twice, the Moody Blues (Days of Future Past, To Our Childrens Childrens Children et al.?) had been disappeared from the narrative. They're still touring last time I looked.

I do wish that people who would still be listening to Patti Page and singing along with Mitch Miller if not for rhythm, blues, jazz, and rock 'n' roll stop trying to claim rock 'n' roll as theirs.

Life in The Desert

Jun. 25th, 2017 04:47 am[personal profile] nebris
nebris: (Nebs Palms)
~It's down to 73° now and the air coming out of the swamp cooler is cold, but I'm letting it run, making the house cold. We have one more day of this heat wave [103° today, down from a 106° prediction] and then we're done. High 90's for the rest of the week, which is the usual around here and we can handle that easy.

Been sleeping through most of it. Just as well as we're broke as fuck once again at the end of the month. /sigh

I should be writing. Well, writing more. I have been scribbling a lil bit on the Liber and a few short stories. I never really stop writing, even if it's just trolling assholes on the Internet. LOL

Not much else to talk about. Just getting by and watching The Donald wreck the GOP and the Dem Civil War heat up. Life in The Desert.

...and there ya have it.
There was a recent media forum in Bonn, Germany, where the main topic was the way Russia has increased its influence in Europe through the media and the Internet. The Russian media working abroad have recently gained a lot of success in manipulating the public opinion, and not just in the former Soviet republics or the former Soviet satellites in East Europe, but also in the West. Fake news is now everywhere, and the difference from the yellow press sort of news that we all know and have learned to hate to love, it's now all being directed and focused with a purpose.

It`s not just about directly meddling into elections )

Intro Post

Jun. 24th, 2017 09:32 am[personal profile] bittercat posting in [community profile] dreamwidth_pagans
bittercat: Wally Poppi (Default)
 -Name you would like to go by: Jen is fine.

-Present path or tradition: Wiccan

-Interests: green living, veg/vegan, homesteading, animals and their rights, art, books, movies, music, politics, Washington DC (I'm from Maryland, but I consider DC t o be my hometown.)

-Age (not mandatory): late 40s

-Brief Bio: MM, all!  Been Wiccan for a very long time (26 years!)  Was in a coven, but now I'm solitary.  I currently live on our vegan homestead with my guy, two dogs, and seven cats.  We're just learning about being homesteaders.  It's been very educational, but we have a long way to go yet.  Would like to take the house and well off-grid, but we don't have the money to get set up with alternative power yet.  I work as a virtual assistant/freelance writer/editor, but am looking for part time work to get me through the lean times.  I guess that's good enough for no w.  Blessed Litha!
[Error: unknown template video]

Excited yet?
This story is weird on so many levels... Really, what does the right-wing hate more right now, gays or Muslims? And what does the left love more? Decisions, decisions...

Sweden far-right plans gay parade in mainly Muslim area
Anti-racist group plans counter-rally against "provocative" parade condemned by Stockholm Pride and LGBT activists.
When George Marshall, Truman's secretary of state and former commander in chief of the US army visited Harvard to receive his honorary title in June 1047, the decision wasn't deemed too important by the press. The historians say his hosts at the university didn't know what he would say in his speech. But that speech marked the beginning of changes of enormous scale across post-war Europe. Within a single short paragraph, Marshall described the devastation in Europe and said it was logical that America would do whatever it takes to help restore the economic health of the world, because without a stable economy there could be no peace and stability anywhere. That day is considered the birthday of the Marshall Plan.

http://marshallfoundation.org/wp-content/uploads/2013/06/47.06.05-George-C.-Marshall-at-Harvard-300x269.jpg

Read more... )
Changes in Cuba policy could adversely impact Trump's hotel competitors

Details )

...So is Trump using his office to target competitors, or are the competitors just impacted by a decision that was not intended to target competitors, but increase sanctions in general?

The first would be criminal, but the second would only be political, if Trump's order was against Cuba alone and not intended to harm competition to his own business. I'm sure there will be plenty of answers for both reasons, depending on which side of the aisle you are on.

I'd say it smells more like a political move, but of course he'd have no hesitation to hurt his competitors in the meantime, either. I mean, Trump needs a win. He's been doing poorly lately and needs something. And what's better for him than to undo some stuff Obama did? Hoorah! Making America great again! His base eats that up. So this is something he can easily accomplish, move some headlines (and tweets) around, get people talking of something other than Russia. And hey, the fact that it hurts his competitors is a bonus.

So objectively I'd say he likely wasn't motivated to do this because it hurt his competitors, but he likely also just thinks of it as two birds one stone sort of thing. What say you?
Just a brief question.

When a bunch of Muslim radicals plunge a truck into a crowd of random people in a street, then start shooting at people or stabbing them with knives, that's terrorism, right?

So how come when a Christian British native plunges a truck into a crowd of random Muslim people in front of a mosque, then attacks them with a knife, that's hate crime and a revenge?

Where does this semantic difference come from? Same question about the reactions. In the former case, we hear "Let's not jump to conclusions" and "Let's not paint all Muslims with the same brush", and "This has nothing to do with Islam". But now we hear nothing of the sort, after the Finsbury Park attack?

How, who and what radicalized that father of several children who until yesterday used to just go to work, look after his family, and probably spend a couple hours with his pals in the local pub watching Premiership football on a daily basis? What caused him to go and massacre people he doesn't know, and then sit in the police van on his way to jail and smile back at the watching journalists, as if he had just won the lottery? "A job well done", he says. How's he NOT a terrorist?

Is there a double standard here, or am I perhaps just reading too much into this?

Correspondence

Jun. 19th, 2017 11:35 am[personal profile] nebris
nebris: (A Dark Boy)
I have been emailed a few times in the past week or so by Ms Stephanie Scott, Admissions & Account Assistant, Los Angeles Film School. LAFS was a pretty cool place when I checked out, that was long ago. But I'm a gentleman and also a Hollywood Rule is "be nice to those you meet on the way up..you'll meet them again on the way down".


Dear Ms Scott,

I'm a fat old man on Disability who's last contact with your institution was nearly twenty years ago, so I'm assuming y'all are having 'enrollment issues'. That's a shame. I liked the feel of the place, I just didn't have the bread to enroll.

Presently I am living in a double-wide in a mobile home park up in the High Desert. The film industry is a distant and sad memory, so while I appreciate your offer, I'll have to pass.

I do however wish you the best of luck, my dear.

Yours
M. Daly
onyxlynx: Festive pennants in blue & purple with word "Birthday" centered. (Birthday)
to [personal profile] waywardcats ! Hope the heat isn't cramping your (or the cats') style too much!  Stay hydrated!

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