I will not share your fundraiser unless I know you personally. I write things, make bears, and cause trouble. Not necessarily in that order. Sometimes I'm onethingconstant. Murderboots. Biromantic demi. She/her. etsy.com/shop/onbearfeet
[ID. A paper painting of a white bear laying inside a cave as it looks to outside, surrounded by grass. The bear looks slightly tired and unhappy. The caption reads: "Sorry I can't seize the day. Maybe tomorrow..."]
Bonus info: the image is a painting of Chada, a former circus bear who now lives happily in a sanctuary in Ukraine after a lifetime of horrible abuse. She is a Himalayan brown bear, a member of a rare and endangered subspecies. She always looks slightly tired and unhappy, probably because she is partially blind and missing many teeth, and her fur usually looks like bedhead. But! She has a really lovely life now, with a private enclosure (she does not get on with other bears), a pool, and lots of food, treats, and toys. She's particularly fond of playing with large tree branches. She lives in what amounts to her personal paradise, and she is profoundly loved by many people, including her human caregivers.
So if you're not feeling up to seizing the day, please know that no one is mad at you. As with Chada, we're just glad you're here with us.
You can learn more about Chada and the other residents of White Rock Sanctuary here.
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Not deliberately. Theyâve killed someone. But it was an accident
No. Theyâve never killed anyone
Remaining time: 5 days 20 hours
Every poll on this blog is about fictional characters only. This request was sent to us and we made a poll in response to it. Send any Blorbo-related question you want to our inbox and weâll make a poll on which people can vote with their own Blorbos in minds
Yeah, I pondered whether to bring up Star Trek V (which I tend to mostly ignore as "too OOC to fit a cohesive reading of canon") but this is technically accurate which is the best kind of accurate :D
[mysterious circle of robed figures]
JK Rowling: hello children
Rowling: finally my evil plan reachesss fruition
Rowling: it'ss taken me yearss of careful planning but finally
Rowling: finally!!!
Rowling: finally we can defeat the sscourge of human rightsss
Rowling: firssst of all i'm not jusst going to sssue amnesty international for money
Rowling: i alsso want an apology
Kathleen Stock: a just request, dark lord
Julie Bindel: no one has been more wronged than you, dark lord
Maya Forstater: careful, dark lord! the other viziers plot against you
Rowling: i want you to find the guy who runs amnesssty international
Rowling: mr amnessty or whatever hiss name isss
Rowling: and bring him here
Stock: i don't think its run by a guy called mr amnesty, dark lord
Rowling: whatever, you know i don't keep up with thiss human rightsss sstuff
Rowling: i want to ssee amnessty destroyed
Rowling: i want to ssee all the human rightss people humiliated, groveling in the mud
Rowling: begging for my forgivenesss
Rowling: right before the boot comess down on their throat
Rowling: i am a beloved national treassssure and i demand my due!
Amnesty: the gender critical movement is fundamentally an anti-human rights movement
Rowling: how dare you!!! don't you know how much money i have?
Amnesty: Sorry. Im sorry. Im trying to remove it.
Rowling: finally, i will have my revenge!
Rowling: you don't remember me do you, amnesty?
Amnesty: uh
Amnesty: of course i know you, you're JK Rowling, the famous transphobe
Rowling: that's not all
Rowling: look closer
Amnesty: wait
Amnesty: wait no
Amnesty: it can't be!
Amnesty: you're that junior clerk temp receptionist apprentice part timer that we fired for writing fan fic on the clock!
Rowling: HA HA HA YESSSS
Rowling: AND I'M BACK!
Stock, Bindel et al: She's back!
Rowling: and I'm on the prowl
Rowling: revenge would taste sso ssweet right now!
[many many years ago]
Rowling: [writing] the best kind of wizard is a boy wizard
Amnesty Supervisor: joanne do you have that memo about african genocide i asked for
Rowling: not yet
AS: ok well i need it soon
AS: there's a bunch of genocides we need to deal with
AS: i mean we're real behind on that
AS: look, i'm afraid we're going to have to let you go
Rowling: WHAT!?
AS: it's just that i don't believe that you're really taking these genocides seriously
AS: since you started working here, we've become really backed up on genocides
AS: like, we're never supposed to have this many happening
Rowling: you can't fire me!
AS: we'll have some amnesty goons escort you to the door
Rowling: jusst you wait! i might jusst be sssome nobody now, but sssomeday i'll be a beloved national treasure!
Rowling: like jonathan king or jimmy sssavile!!
Rowling: then you'll be sssssorry!!!
[present day]
Rowling: that'sss right, i planned it all out
Rowling: every night for forty yearsss, i dreamed of thisss day
Rowling: and finally!!!
Rowling: REVENGE!!!!!! HA HA HA!!!!
Rowling: anyway now sssay you're sssorry
Rowling: alsso, here, kissss the ring
I have a gift for falling in love with random objects. One time, my aunt got me a little rubber chicken, and whenever I squoze it, a little egg thing popped out. Very silly. Except that chicken became something like my best friend. I carried it with me to school, and I kept it with me in my pocket, and whatever social hazards there were about Being The Guy Who Got Stressed Whenever His Rubber Chicken Was Missing were far outweighed by being The Guy Who ALWAYS Had a Rubber Chicken On Him. There's a lot of comedic opportunity that comes with always having a good prop on your person.
Of course, the chicken did eventually. Explode. And such was my grief that I did not eat for 36 hours. This was very stressful for many people. Mostly my mom. I was a very strange child to work with. She took parenting so incredibly seriously, and then I'd pitch her these curve balls like refusing to eat for a day and a half because my rubber chicken died. No parenting book tells you what to do when that happens. You just have to feel it in your heart.
A less tragic story of an object that I fell in love with was a large, foam toad that I found in a trinket shop. The toad was the size of a very large grapefruit. Much too large to carry with me to school (thank god) but enough that I could move it around the house, to keep me company during my solitary pursuits. If I was reading, the toad was there, and if I was tinkering with legos, the toad was there, and even when I slept, I would wrap the toad up in layers and layers of blankets, and then spoon it. I did this until the rubber coating on the foam started to wear out, and the foam started to get brittle and break down and leak this repulsive yellow powder. Then I simply put the toad in the playroom and would consult it on matters of great importance. Eventually I stopped doing that, and someone took the opportunity to dispose of it. Not sure who. By the time I noticed its absence, too much time had passed for me to actually be sad. As an adult, part of me thinks I would have maybe liked burying the toad, but part of me also thinks I might have refused to part with the toad, which would have resulted in it leaking more repulsive yellow powder into the house. So I understand why that decision was made.Â
I want to state that this does not happen often, and it does not happen on purpose. I don't choose to fall in love with random objects. And it's always a little bit embarrassing when it happens.Â
Which brings me to my wife.Â
Before meeting my wife, I did not often go to places with crowds. I didn't really think of it as avoiding them - those places just didn't seem fun to me. But she liked those places, and I really liked her, and being with someone who really likes something can kind of sell you on liking it too, so I'd take her to places and watch her Visibly Enjoy the Fair and go: Alright. The fair is pretty sweet. Â
Which is a thing that happened. After fourish months of dating, I took her to the fair. And she fell very visibly in love with a large series of quilts, and she stayed near them for a while, which she thought was very embarrassing, and I got to pretend to be understanding as an outsider, because I thought it would be much more impressive than also being the type of person that would fall in love with a quilt.Â
Do not do this. The gods punishment for my hubris was that the room next to the quilts was full of butter sculptures, which was an entirely new thing to me, and I immediately fell embarrassingly in love with all of them. It was like the biggest, sappiest non-sexual crush you've ever had, but not only did the other person not recipropcate, they could not, because they were made of butter. I actually got yelled at for pressing my face against the glass, which is fair, but also, I hadn't realized I was pressing my face on the glass, I just started leaning forward because after approximately 30 minutes of staring wistfully at a cow made of butter my legs got tired. And I think I should be given some grace for that.
Anyway. My wife was very patient with me taking more time to look at the butter sculptures than the average person might spent at the Louvre, and she also felt much less embarrassed over falling in love with a quilt, and we had a good laugh about it on the ferris wheel.Â
A few weeks after that was my birthday. And I don't know what I expected, exactly - but I did not expect what she did.Â
Dear reader, she made me a butter sculpture. Of a duck.
She picked a duck, because our first kiss was at a Japanese friendship garden. It was our second date, and she'd made up her mind not to do any kissing until the third date, but as we sat on the grass, a duck walked past me, and I'd just seen the hold-duck-gentle-like-hamgurber meme,
so I sort of impulsively reached out and snatched it. I honestly didn't think it would work. I don't know who was more flabbergasted, me or the duck. But we looked at each other, and then I looked at her, and then she looked at the duck, and she looked so incredibly envious that I assumed that must have wanted the duck so I just handed it to her.
It turned out she was actually envious of the ability to just grab a duck as it walked by, but she accepted the duck and stroked it a few times before releasing it. (She also made up her mind to kiss me in that moment, which was very nice.) Â
Anyway.
She made me a butter duck of my own. Obviously, I fell in love with it immediately. I cleared out all of the freezer-portion of my mini fridge, and I put the duck in there, and for the next several months, when I felt sad, or lonely, I would open the door up and spent some quality time. Just me and my duck.
But this is, of course, not the end of the story.Â
Because.
After several months.Â
The mini fridge died.Â
I really didn't use it that often. It was mostly my duck storage container. But one day, I walked by it, and it struck me that it wasn't humming. So I opened the door, and it was just. Far, far too late. The duck was dead. Dead dead. Turned into a foul-smelling slime dead.Â
I cried. I did. After the rubber chicken thing, I thought I had changed, but I had not changed, and the unexpected death of my butter buddy left me pretty shook. I texted my then-girlfriend now-wife about how sad I was, and she actually came over to help me say goodbye. We didn't even bother scraping the duck out of the mini-fridge, we just said our goodbyes to both and threw them together in the nice dumpster behind the chapel, because it seemed appropriate to put it in God's dumpster. And it did actually help quite a bit. I certainly did not go 36 hours without eating again.Â
And that was, for some time, the end of the butter duck.Â
However. Three (or four?) years ago, for my birthday, my wife was looking around thrift stores. And she found something interesting.Â
The original butter duck had an odd pose. She'd sculpted it laying flat, intending to raise it up later. But the butter was less flexible than she thought, and she was afraid of cracking it so she left it down which left the duck with a very elongated, very in-motion appearance. And she found a brass statue of a duck in the same, running posture.
It wasn't the original. But it was oddly on the nose. It was a yellow brass, it had the same strange posture, the same crude little face feathers.Â
I think it was $3, but it remains perhaps the most thoughtful gift I have ever received. I got very choked up when I unwrapped Butter Duck, The UnDying.Â
I love asking people how their parents met. You always get an interesting reply. My best friendâs parents met on the relatively new internet in 1999. My other friendâs parents met at Burger King when one was the manager and the other was a regular customer. My parents met at the beach because they were neighbors in their rental houses, mom was on a church trip and dad was getting blackout drunk every night with his friends next door.
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There are gonna be people who won't like hearing this but if you want to live in a world where mixed marriages, families, and adoptions (particularly POC adopting outside their "race") aren't maligned and discriminated against, then you have got to get more chill about seeing someone partaking in something cultural that you don't think fits the "race" you perceive them as.
It's a vague memory now, it was a vague memory even at the time I made this post, but I think what sparked this was remembering stupid comments I saw about a Chinese-American cookbook that were complaining about it being written by a white woman and then I looked the white woman up and the briefest research showed she was adopted as a child into a Chinese-American family and just....
*pinches nose*
Fellas, is it cultural appropriation to inherit your family's culture but you don't pass the blood quantum test?
All of you are literally just racist. You've come full-circle. You're working under the belief that people are supposed to "keep to their own kind" and that means the socially invented concept of "race", and "race mixing" of any sort is unnatural.
Putting this in a separate reblog because it involves fictional media but it was still implying a messed up worldview....
This reminded me of a post I saw about someone theorizing what MCU Morgan Stark's middle name was because we just knew her middle initial was "H" and they considered that the namesake might be Yinsen Ho but they didn't want to believe that because it would be, quote, "cultural appropriation".
Cultural appropriation. To name your child after someone you personally knew and was very important to you.
Don't you know it's unnatural for someone of a different race to be important to you? The races are not supposed to mix!
It's literally just racism. Why do people think they're being anti-racist activists by being some of the highest level of racist?
Complete side note: probably not a good idea to give a little girl who'll grow up speaking American English (presumably among other languages) the middle name "Ho".
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Before home computers were very common, people typically only typed for business-related things, so the only people that actually knew how to use typewriters and word processors were authors, secretaries, accountants, etc. These people would take classes for typing bc it was seen as a skill. This gradually fell out of fashion, much like teaching kids cursive
Typing is only intuitive to gen y & z bc most of us learned through computer games or had someone tell us where to rest our fingers. People who never learned to type use just their index fingers, hit one key, take a long time to find the next letter, hit it with an index finger, and repeat until finished
34, had typing lessons in 3rd and 4th grade and Mavis Beacon as a kid and Iâve still never used home row except when I was forced to. I type everything with my left hand. The only thing my right is for is using the shift, backspace, and enter keys.
43, first had typing lessons in 4th grade on some type of Mac, then my mother bought me a book and a manual typewriter and made me learn to touch-type, for which I am still grateful 30+ years later. I remember how excited we were when we upgraded to an electric typewriter.
Of course, I got hit by nostalgia so hard that I recently bought a manual typewriter and have been writing letters to people with it! I love it to pieces.
28 and I learned to type through Type To Learn. I have severe dysgraphia to the point where I couldnât keep up with writing in school early on, so the summer after second grade my parents trained me intensely on all the typing programs they could get, and found ways to help me learn to type fast.
#LMAO yeah^#i had computer class in 2001 where we eventually had to put paper over our hands to take a test to see if we could type without looking#we also played games#i hated the paper thing at the time. i knew i just needed MORE practice. i dont think i got GOOD at typing until a few years after that#also.. when you have a pen. you can just create the letter you need. with a keyboard you have to FIND IT. and its NOT IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER#how is that easier??#but i guess i dont know any kids whove grown up with computers and could probably type before they could writeâŚ.????? đłÂ
Modern kids canât type before they can write. I mean, most kids understand how to use a keyboard, and pressing letters takes less coordination than writing them so can be started at a younger age for learning to spell, but Iâve worked a lot with kids in the 8-14 year age bracket and theyâre usually FASCINATED by how fast I type. (My typing speed is⌠not impressive. If they made me take one of those speed/accuracy tests they used to do for admin or data entry jobs, I would NOT pass.) But many of the kids Iâve worked with take my comfort and familiarity with a keyboard (Iâm a writer) as some impressive, magical skill, because an awful lot of them are letter-peckers.
24, learned actual touch-typing when I was maybe 4 or 5 with this, the sound effects still live rent-free in my brain:
The shift keys on our computer were broken, so up until high school I would type capitals by turning caps lock on for a single key and then back off again.
Iâm 39. We had typing lessons every year throughout elementary school. I never really got good at it until I started playing mmos, though.
My kids are in 5th and 6th grade. Theyâve never even seen a fingering chart. The 6th grader is expected to do nearly all of his schoolwork on a computer, and he doesnât even know the term âhome rowâ. I donât know how they expect them to excel without giving them the skills they need to use the tools they have to use.
Iâve gone what I can to help them learn how to type, but Iâm not a teacher.
Typing classes were only availble to those taking the secretarial class, which was not open to boys.
It should be noted that there is a distinction between typing as it used to mean and word processing. Typewriters were unforgiving machines, not only could you not cut, paste or delete (for obvious reasons) so your spelling had to be very, VERY good, but the legibiity of each letter produced depended on how hard you hit the key (unless you went to a fancy school which had electric typewriters, which were not the norm).
Those of us who were subversive enough to learn keybaord skills through computing had a MUCH easier time of it. Though it was often offset by the shitty keyboards some computers had, and YES, Iâm calling you out ZX81!
If you canât see any depth to those keys, you are correct, they have none because the ZX81 keyboard was a damned membrane!
But believe me, if you could learn to typeat a decent speed on of these, then NOTHING could stop you, expcet for the fact that the odds were good you were typing faster than it could process input.
Itâs successor, the ZX Spectrum had spongey keys, which whilst not great, were better than nothing.
Genuinely as a computing teacher in the 11-18 age group, Iâm saying this now:
We need to bring back typing lessons to the curriculum. The kids will fly if you give them a tablet or smartphone but they have no clue on how to use a keyboard or keyboard shortcuts. If the senior PE class decides to be twats and pry up the keys and swap them round, I will still have 14/15 year olds unable to type because the keys are swapped. And I often donât notice when helping them because I just.. touch type.
I legitimately broke a Higher Computing Science (so a 16 year old who had chosen to do computer stuff) by showing him how Ctrl+H let him find and replace because heâd made a consistent error in his code and I could see him going back and adding up all the time heâd spent trying to find all the incidences of a specific variable in his code and there I was showing him CTRL+F and all these things.
These kids might not pick a computer based subject after the age of 13 and half of them donât understand file systems, version control, difference between cloud vs local storage, how to save, etc.
So many kids would just turn off the monitor and think that was the computer, usually leaving themselves logged in (to the point I locked the monitor power button and had multiple posters up reminding kids to press the spacebar on the keyboard to wake up the monitor first).
Basically, digital literacy is being fucking stolen by the appification of the digital platforms available to kids.
Iâm in my 40s and I had typing classes in my second to last year of grade school, using some really ancient computers that took forever to boot and AFAIK only ran that one program. I still technically know how to touch type properly, though I never bother because my own hybrid system works well enough.
Iâm 40 and I had to take a typing class in high school. I can still technically touch type, but I do it in a half-assed kind of way that isnât very fast and results in a lot of mistakes.
40s and typing class was one of the required ones in the middle school rotation. (We also had a basic cooking skills class, basic sewing, wood shop, metal shop and foreign languages. For the languages, you took each one that would be offered in HS so you could pick what you would take. Everyone took all of these and other specials in a rotation that meant you had about 8 weeks of each.)
My school was unusual because we had computers but they had a room full of actual typewriters for the typing class. So I learned to properly touch type on a typewriter even though it was the 90s. I happened to get involved in an online RP chat at the time that was on a website where it didnât load what everyone else was saying until you hit send on your text or refreshed the page. So I had some incentive to learn to type fast and I did. (Steelsings I miss you!)
Iâm a teacher now and kids still marvel at my ability to look at them and have a conversation and type something else. I also regularly teach high school seniors how to use things like CTRL F. I have been saying for pretty much my whole career that we need to stop assuming kids are naturally good at tech (fuck you concept of digital natives) and go back to teaching this stuff. Itâs not better with the ipad generation- itâs worse. They only understand apps and not real computers.
Also, for the person upthread who mentioned the letters being not in order - thereâs a reason for that! They invented the QWERTY keyboard arrangement to slow typists down because people were going too fast for the machines. There were other keyboard arrangements (DVORAK for example) that people can actually type faster at once they learn them but qwerty has stuck.
Huh⌠apparently thatâs a myth! It was designed to speed up typing? TIL
QWERTY - Wikipedia
âContrary to popular belief, the QWERTY layout was not designed to slow the typist down,[4]:â162â but rather to speed up typing. Indeed, there is evidence that to place often-used letter pairs farther apart increases typing speed, because it encourages alternation between the hands.â
In my 50âs; typing was an elective in high school into which my parents forced me, rather than let me stay in small engine maintenance shop class I enrolled in because it was more fun and interesting.
This was doubly offensive, since I already knew how to type from writing school papers since second or third grade (ie: the early 80âs).
47 and I was taught to type in about third grade, encouraged to practice via a little computer game called Typing Derby where the faster you typed, the faster a little 8bit horse would run across the screen toward the finish line, and any mistakes would slow it down again.
42. I had multiple "keyboarding" (touch-typing) classes at different schools. I didn't actually learn it in a way that stuck until I took a summer course in high school and the mandatory practice software wouldn't run on my computer. So instead of spending 45 minutes per weekday on Mavis Beacon, I spent 45 minutes per weekday typing my handwritten stories into a Word document.
One thing Iâm still pissed at Bernie Sanders about is turning a generation against the Democratic Party. Every piece of social progress in the last 80 years, from Social Security to Medicaid to Medicare to integration to the Civil Rights Act to Title IX to Roe v. Wade to labor rights to environmental protections to public health protections to Obamacare to Obergefell, all of it directly or indirectly powered by the engine of change that is the Democratic Party. And then Sanders comes and says this whole apparatus, which he had no hand in building, is corrupt and needs to be completely replaced. Now we have countless young people who think Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump are the same partly because they were told that an engine of change and an anchor of stagnation and oppression are equally bad because they were fed the lie that no one in the Democratic Party does anything to improve their lives.
Nothing makes me more embarrassed about my age or generation than BernieOrBust/StillJill/NeverHillary supporters who are basically doing the GOPâs work for them and refuse to acknowledge it.
As much as I hate the ageist bullshit I see Baby Boomers come up with, I can see why they think so many millenials need to get their head out of the clouds or donât know how the real world works when I see the way people my age talk about politics.
Like, I know itâs bullshit and I still donât blame baby boomers for getting mad that young people think they know everything. Because fun story: my university campus is very liberal and very politically active, and during the last quarter there most students strongly supported Bernie SandersâŚexcept for most of us in or connected to the Political Science Department (so Poli Sci majors, International Relations majors, certain other âbureaucraticâ majors, etc.) We also loved Bernie, but we all pretty bluntly said we were voting for Hillary and thought sheâd be the best President.
Most of us were pretty blunt about how âas much as we love Bernieâs message of change, we think Hillary can actually accomplish more of it in the real worldâ. We were basing our decision on our studies of politics, of what kinds of change have and have not worked in history and why. This support for Hillary, even with our love of Bernie, came from a place of deep understanding of how politics work, of why certain policies or political goals fail, and what various political leadersâ real powers and challenges are.
We were called âover-educated elitesâ because of this.
Itâs worth noting that much of our greatest progressive reforms came from LBJ, very much a political insider, and a guy who was kind of slimy in his personal life. He was not a soaring idealist.
And some of the other progressive greats? JFK, FDR, and Teddy Roosevelt all came from long-established political dynasties
I supported Bernie in 2016 (although I did vote for Hillary in the general, and have voted Democrat every two years since), but in hindsight, I think youâre right, attacking the system is not the best move to get real reform done. H. Clinton probably would have done a good job
And letâs be real: many of them were assholes. JFK was a serial cheater. FDRâwho anyone on this blog for more than five minutes can tell you I love for his social policiesâwas antisemitic and didnât challenge racial prejudices that blocked many Black citizens from accessing those wonderful social policies. Teddy Roosevelt was an ardent supporter of, and participant in, American imperialism. LBJ used to talk about his dick to staffers. This is not uncommon, because in spite of the many jokes, politicians are people.
I donât have a problem voting for âpolitical insidersâ because *they freaking know how the sausage is made.* I want a goddamned professional in the job. Wanting an âoutsiderâ strikes me like saying, âI donât want a surgeon that went to some hoity-toity university and is friends with the the department head! I want some guy who learned how to remove appendixes by pulling himself by his bootstraps and learning by trial and error!â
I have been saying it since 2016: A presidential election is a job interview. You want the person who will do the best job in the role. The role of president involves a lot of public speaking and trying to inspire people, yes, but ALSO managing a large bureaucracy (aka the executive branch), heading up foreign policy, and working with other leaders, politicians, bureaucrats and assorted assholes to get things done.
If you ask someone what they hate about Hilary Clinton and they don't jump to conspiracy theories or straight-up misogyny, chances are they'll mention something that would have worked to her advantage as president. She was deeply enmeshed in the political establishment? Yeah, that's exactly how she got shit done. Cozy with billionaires? That's how you fund things in the Second Gilded Age. She hung out with someone you don't like? Yeah, she hung out with everyone as part of getting shit done. Too chummy with Israel? Sure, just like every other candidate in 2016, usually because it opened doors to getting shit done. She sucks at email? Yeah, people experienced enough to run for president generally are on the older side, and a lot of older people suck at email, which is why they all have staff. Married to Bill Clinton? That's pretty much the only way women got into politics at the time she was coming upâmarry a rising star. Didn't leave him over the cheating? I mean, it's not what I would have done, but she definitely proved she can continue working with assholes even after they've done something shitty, and guess what presidents need to do?
You don't have to like the people you vote for. You don't have to drink a beer with them. You definitely don't need to get them tattooed on your bodyâin fact, you probably shouldn't do that one. You are interviewing someone to work for you. As long as they can do the job and their personality doesn't get in the way of that, their personality doesn't MATTER.
Hilary Clinton would have been a competent, non-fascist president who did a better job than Donald Trump.
Joe Biden WAS a competent, non-fascist president who did a better job than Donald Trump.
Kamala Harris would have been a competent, non-fascist president who did a better job than Donald Trump.
I know they're not as exciting or sexy as Bernie. I am sorry that American politics sometimes expects voters to behave like adults. I didn't like any of these people either, but I voted for them because I believed that, out of the available options, they'd do the best job, and I'll take a competent asshole who's somewhat on my side over a raging fascist who wants to set me on fire.
I'm sorry those are the choices. I'm sorry that perfect is sometimes the enemy of good. I'm sorry that the progressives working their way up through the Democratic party will no longer be young and hot and on the cutting edge by the time they're ready to run for the highest offices.
I'm sorry this is where we are. But we're all gonna have to be grownups for a while, and we're all gonna have to make shitty compromises, or way too many of us are going to fucking die.
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Letâs say you wanted to glue fabric to wood, but what do you use? What about glass to paper? This to That lets you choose two things you want to glue and lists what types of glue is best. (Because people have a need to glue things to other things!)
This is one of the first websites I was told about in props. It also has information about the toxicity, adhere time, price, and other stuff about the glues.