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People don’t often look back on the early 1900’s for advice, but what if we could actually learn something from the Lost Generation? The New York Public Library has digitized 100 “how to do it” cards found in cigarette boxes over 100 years ago, and the tips they give are so practical that millennials reading this might want to take notes.

Back in the day, cigarette cards were popular collectibles included in every pack, and displayed photos of celebrities, advertisements, and more. Gallaher cigarettes, a UK-founded tobacco company that was once the largest in the world, decided to print a series of helpful how-to’s on their cards, which ranged from mundane tasks (boiling potatoes) to unlikely scenarios (stopping a runaway horse). Most of them are insanely clever, though, like how to make a fire extinguisher at home. Who even knew you could do that?

The entire set of life hacks is now part of the NYPL’s George Arents Collection. Check out some of the cleverest ones we could find below. You never know when you’ll have to clean real lace!

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Let me tell you what I know about this after living here for nearly thirty years.

This is a modern European country, the home of hot net startups, of Internet giants and (in some places, some very few places) the fastest broadband on Earth. People here live in this century, HARD.

Yet they get nervous about walking up that one hill close to their home after dark, because, you know… stuff happens there.

I know this because Peter and I live next to One Of Those Hills. There are people in our locality who wouldn’t go up our tiny country road on a dark night for love or money. What they make of us being so close to it for so long without harm coming to us, I have no idea. For all I know, it’s ascribed to us being writers (i.e. sort of bards) or mad folk (also in some kind of positive relationship with the Dangerous Side: don’t forget that the root word of “silly”, which used to be English for “crazy”, is the Old English _saelig_, “holy”…) or otherwise somehow weirdly exempt.

And you know what? I’m never going to ask. Because one does not discuss such things. Lest people from outside get the wrong idea about us, about normal modern Irish people living in normal modern Ireland.

You hear about this in whispers, though, in the pub, late at night, when all the tourists have gone to bed or gone away and no one but the locals are around. That hill. That curve in the road. That cold feeling you get in that one place. There is a deep understanding that there is something here older than us, that doesn’t care about us particularly, that (when we obtrude on it) is as willing to kick us in the slats as to let us pass by unmolested.

So you greet the magpies, singly or otherwise. You let stones in the middle of fields be. You apologize to the hawthorn bush when you’re pruning it. If you see something peculiar that cannot be otherwise explained, you are polite to it and pass onward about your business without further comment. And you don’t go on about it afterwards. Because it’s… unwise. Not that you personally know any examples of people who’ve screwed it up, of course. But you don’t meddle, and you learn when to look the other way, not to see, not to hear. Some things have just been here (for various values of “here” and various values of “been”) a lot longer than you have, and will be here still after you’re gone. That’s the way of it. When you hear the story about the idiots who for a prank chainsawed the centuries-old fairy tree a couple of counties over, you say – if asked by a neighbor – exactly what they’re probably thinking: “Poor fuckers. They’re doomed.” And if asked by anybody else you shake your head and say something anodyne about Kids These Days. (While thinking DOOMED all over again, because there are some particularly self-destructive ways to increase entropy.)

Meanwhile, in Iceland: the county council that carelessly knocked a known elf rock off a hillside when repairing a road has had to go dig the rock up from where it got buried during construction, because that road has had the most impossible damn stuff happen to it since that you ever heard of. Doubtless some nice person (maybe they’ll send out for the Priest of Thor or some such) will come along and do a little propitiatory sacrifice of some kind to the alfar, belatedly begging their pardon for the inconvenience.

They’re building the alfar a new temple, too.

Don’t go near big trees in the night

If you live on a farm, don’t look outside the windows at night

I have broken all these rules.

I’ve seen some shit.

If it sounds like your mom, but you didn’t realize your mom is home…. it’s not your mom. Promise.

One walked onto the porch once. Wasn’t fun. But they’re not super keen on guns. Typically bolt when they see one.

You think it’s the neighbor kids.

It’s not the neighbor kids.

Might sound like coyotes but you never really /see/ the coyotes but then wow that one cow was reaaaaaally fucked up this morning. The next night when you hear another one screaming you just turn the tv up a little more. Maybe fire a gun in the air but you don’t go after it. If it is coyotes then it’s probably a pack and you seriously don’t want to fuck with that and if it’s the other thing you seriously REALLY don’t want to fuck with that.

So in the south, especially near the mountains, you just go straight from your car to inside your house, draw your curtains and watch tv.

If you see lights in the fields just fucking leave it alone.

Eyes forward. Don’t be fucking stupid. Mind your own business. Call your neighbors and tell them to bring the cats in. There’s coyotes out. Some of them know. Most of them don’t.

Other than that everything’s a ghost and they died in the civil war. Literally all of everything else is just the civil war. We used to smell old perfume and pipe tobacco in the weeks leading up to the battle anniversaries.

We had ‘witches’ in the mountains (more like ghost-women who will snatch you up by making you wander in a daze around the forest like the Blair Witch before killing you or letting you back out into society but you’re… different). Or devils in springs or abandoned wells (don’t look too long into one or something will follow you). 

But we also had the cornfield demons. I’ve witnessed this many times. You’ll be in the passenger seat looking out the window and see red glowing eyes in the cornfield. No light shining in that direction. Just two red dots a few inches apart faintly glowing in a pitch black cornfield. They’re not the glow of deer eyes in the headlights. More like the embers of a dying fire. Sometimes, as you drive away, you’ll look out the back window or side mirror and you can see the eyes have moved to the edge of the corn field, still watching you. If you bring it up with the driver, they’ll call you paranoid, but grip the wheel a bit tighter and driver a little faster.

Well, about halfway through I start to get scared. For no reason. Within the span of two heartbeats I grew so terrified that my palms were shaking and my mouth was dry and for some reason I couldn’t take my eyes off the wood to the driver’s side. 

“Turn around.” I say, quickly. 

“Dude, already on it.” Kama said, doing a quick three point turn. I look in the mirror as she’s pealing away and see the creature. It was vaguely humanoid, and hairless, with elongated limbs and pitch black eyes, on all four limbs, loping after us. Now, if you’re in the know, you might be thinking “hey that’s like the creatures from Until Dawn, I call bullshit on this.” Well, Until Dawn was four years away, and it wasn’t even in development yet, so shush. 

I rip my eyes away from it and hold on tight as she drives. Then, at the same time, both of us get this instinct and we speak. 

“Don’t look in the backseat.” Needless to say, neither of us did. She drove damn near 90 on a dark canyon until we saw the lights of her complex at the mouth of it. 

I haven’t gone back in there since, and that canyon got shut down about a year ago due to a landslide and it hasn’t opened back up. I’m a history major, and research always has been my first love, so I go digging. I visit the local history society, talk about my tale. Turns out the whole valley used to belong to a people called the Tativam. One day, after the Spanish arrived, they vanished. Without a trace. We have a graveyard of theirs that we know of. One of my professors was trying to stop the houses that were being built on it. Spoiler alert: he didn’t, and the houses are hella haunted, and nobody wants to live there. 

Personally I do think the creature is a wendigo. That chain of mountains is park of unbroken chain that leads right up the Serra Nevadas and Donner Pass. 

THE Donner Pass. 

Most of what we’ve got is due to the Gold Rush, and not just the hauntings (though there are plenty of those, a great many of them are theatre ghosts, most of whom are harmless, though some are very particular).  What we’ve got by way of Things were brought along on the trail from the Old Country to the East Coast and then along thousands of miles of wagon trail.

We’ve got our fair share of phantom hitchhikers and women in white, but mostly what we’ve got are the Things That Survived The Flood.  There was a flood in the early 1860s, one that caused the state capitol to actually be relocated for a while, and when it was over and the floodwaters receded, there was enough sediment left behind that what had been the second floor of buildings was now the ground floor.

*me, raising my voice and my hand* Can I please get a waffle?

Are you gonna eat me… are you gonna let me live alone and suffer from the slow and painful pain of insanity…

*walks through the supermarket and goes to the self checkout to avoid having to interact*

*starts beeping items*

*machine gives me an error- unexpected item in the bagging area*

*picks up the severed hand and hands it to the zombie at the next  register over* I think this is yours.

*pays and leaves, avoiding eye contact, then drives home*

New study projects a stunning drop in 2018 millennial voter turnout in battleground states

The 2016 presidential election — and its outcome — may have given plenty of Americans a new sense of urgency when it comes to civics.

But a new study projects that 40 million Americans who voted last year will likely not show up at the polls for the 2018 midterms.

And that two-thirds of those “drop-off” voters will be millennials, unmarried women and people of color.

THIS MATTERS

YOUR VOTE MATTERS SO MUCH OKAY

Just look at the difference young people getting out and voting made in the UK general election this year…young voters CAN make a POSITIVE DIFFERENCE by getting out and voting 

And I know this isn’t a presidential election but it is in some ways EVEN MORE IMPORTANT

Because the president can’t do anything without congress and the senate on his side…but likewise, if the Republicans get a majority it means it will be easier for that disgusting sack of stinking dog-vomit Donald Trump and his party of traitors and criminals to push through the DISGUSTING things they want to try and inflict on the country and its people

Am I registered? Shit, who knows? I’ve moved five times in the last four years. I think I registered, but that was a year ago, did I change districts since then? Where even are the polling places in this town? What are their hours? I know I submitted a registration, but did they get it? I didn’t get a confirmation. Did they lose my form? Am I even eligible? Who knows? Oh well, I’m sure I can always register in the days leading up to the – whoops, there’s a deadline and it’s already gone by.

This is one of those civic skills that you would really think would be taught in high school, and – surprise! – it isn’t.

So here’s how to check which district you’re in and who your rep is.

Here’s how to find out if you’re registered.

Here are the deadlines for when to register.

Here’s how to register, if it turns out you’re not.

Here’s how to find local polling places.

Plans to fly a giant inflatable figure depicting Donald Trump as a baby over London during the US president’s visit have been approved.

Mr Trump is due to meet Theresa May at 10 Downing Street next Friday.

Campaigners raised almost £18,000 for the helium-filled six-metre high figure, which they said reflects Mr Trump’s character as an “angry baby with a fragile ego and tiny hands”.

London Mayor Sadiq Khan gave permission for the balloon to fly.

The White House has been approached for comment.

On Twitter former UKIP leader Nigel Farage said the plan was “the biggest insult to a sitting US President ever”.

Leo Murray, who is behind the crowdfunded idea, said: “[Mr Trump] really seems to hate it when people make fun of him.

“So when he visits the UK on Friday, we want to make sure he knows that all of Britain is looking down on him and laughing at him.

“That’s why a group of us have chipped in and raised enough money to have a six-metre high blimp made by a professional inflatables company, to be flown in the skies over Parliament Square during Trump’s visit.”

A statement on behalf of the London mayor said he “supports the right to peaceful protest and understands that this can take many different forms”.

After meeting with the organisers of the Trump Baby, Mr Khan’s city operations team gave them permission to “use Parliament Square Garden as a grounding point for the blimp”.

Mr Khan and Mr Trump have repeatedly clashed on Twitter, including in the aftermath of the London Bridge attack.

Before the figure can take off, campaigners will also need permission from the National Air Traffic Service (NATS) as the project constitutes a “non-standard flight in controlled airspace”, a spokesperson said.

Because Parliament Square sits within restricted airspace, additional approvals are also needed from the Metropolitan Police.

Max Wakefield, who is one of the people working on the project, said the group is “confident it will obtain all necessary permits”.

He said the initial crowdfunding target was just £1,000, but this was reached within 24 hours.

The extra cash will now be used to send the balloon on a “world tour” and “haunt” Mr Trump wherever he goes, he added.

How women prepare for first dates

Bonus: How men prepare for first dates:

Wow. WOW. Look at all these sheltered people and their internalized misogyny.

The point isn’t, “NOT ALL MEN ARE OUT TO GET YOU.”

The point is, “WE HAVE NO WAY OF KNOWING A NICE GUY FROM A SERIAL KILLER.”

It’s not like they fucking wear nametags, okay? Moreover, the most awful people with the worst intentions often put on the nicest face or deliberately make themselves seem harmless and likeable, to lull potential victims into a false sense of security. (Read up on Ted Bundy sometime. It’s horrifying shit. Or read any thread on the “Let’s Not Meet” subreddit.)

In order to protect ourselves, we are forced to assume the worst of every man we meet, because statistically speaking, the biggest danger to women…IS MEN. Saying “not all men are out to get you, you’re just being paranoid” is like saying “not every car you ride in is going to crash, so buckling your seatbealt is stupid.”

When dealing with an unknown situation, in the absence of absolute proof of safety, exercising a little extra caution can be the difference between life and death. Shaming women for being what you may view as overly cautious is every bit as horrid as blaming them if something goes wrong later on.

And refusing to go to a secluded location with a complete stranger without letting someone know where you’re going, who you’re with, and how to find you is just common street sense, whether you’re on a date or just going out for business or social purposes.

If your life has been so sheltered (or your coping skills so incredible) that you see no need to distrust strangers or worry about the potential for violence, you should thank your lucky stars.

And you should also be aware that just because it hasn’t happened to you or anyone you know does not mean that it doesn’t happen.

Lemme say that louder for the people in the back.

Also, it’s story time! I’m pretty certain I saved my mom’s fucking LIFE by convincing her do this on a date with a fucking COP (which she thought was safer than going out with other men, but let me tell you, cops are the WORST partner abusers around, so pls be safe!!!!). 

She had only talked with him online and they were gonna go for a drive somewhere remote for some reason and she wasn’t going to take any precautions at all. I, being a well seasoned internet dater, was terrified by this prospect and warned her about how cops are actually much more dangerous than civilians and that getting in his car and going somewhere remote was even more dangerous. SO, I told her the best thing to do is to take a pic of him, his plates, then send it to me, and make sure you do it all right in front of him SO HE SEES IT. I warned her too that as a cop he should KNOW how dangerous this date would be for her, so if he kicks up a fuss about it AT ALL I told her to run like the fucking wind. 

So when she gets there, he is already in his fucking truck, doesn’t get out to greet her, so she takes the pics of his car, plates, and him and sends it to me and I thank her profusely. Then apparently she gets in his car, sees there’s a fucking BAT in the back, and doesn’t this fucker just kick up a damn fuss about her doing this. AND MY MOM DOESN’T GET OUT OF THE CAR!!!!!! OMFGWLJELWNLWEJFANMDS

So he starts the car and they drive away and she can already tell he’s a fucking creeper. At one point, he even tells her a truly sad story of his life and she reacts sadly and doesn’t this dickhead say “why aren’t you smiling?” as if that’s what women are FOR. She responds “You had just told me a very sad, personal story, smiling didn’t seem appropriate”, as if she’s just there for smile back at him and look pretty!!!! 

She texts me throughout all of this, telling me she’s increasingly getting uncomfortable and scared. He’s becoming increasingly hostile and unpleasant. She eventually texts me to ask me to call her and pretend to be my younger sister that lives with her saying that I’m sick (my mom’s a nurse). But my younger sis is 26, has a baby, is a personal support worker with some medical knowledge; and that didn’t seem like something strong enough to me that would make this dangerous fucker give up my mom. 

So what do I do?

I called her and pretended I was my little sister crying and freaking out because her baby is super sick and she needs her nurse mom at her side bc this is WAY beyond her knowledge or comfort level. Thankfully that worked and he turned around. But he wasn’t happy and that bat was still in the back, staring mom in the goddamn face. 

Later she called me and thanked me profusely and she STILL talks about it and how scary it was and how she is CERTAIN the real reason he turned around was bc I had insisted she send me those pictures.