Notices by Nowhere Girl (gwynnion@mastodon.social)

Fascism is going to look like a series of police actions and social restrictions getting closer and closer until you're the one filming the cop about to shoot you on your own cell phone.

RE: https://mastodon.online/@tomshardware/117421706212491657

Holy crap, this is stupid.

So we're going to keep the entire US military supply, several times over, in space perpetually so we can drop it from the sky a few tons at a time because somebody is a fan of "Starcraft." Sure.

The ruling class of every country isn't exactly covering themselves in glory these days.

RE: https://masto.ai/@Miro_Collas/117412024793003418

Other countries really need to put reciprocal sanctions on the US and freeze regime members' bank accounts and travel privileges.

Once Jessica placed the diadem upon her brow, Josephine felt only the curious warmth of the metal and heard a low background hiss, like the machine noise of an old cassette recorder left running in an empty room.

"Here," Jessica said, "Let's get this over with."

There was a noise in Josephine's head, gunshot loud, of breaking glass.

She twitched backwards in the chair. A darker sound gradually thundered its way over the hiss, a sound she identified with the open ocean.

#writing

"It's antisemitic to oppose our genocide" is a very obvious ploy.

Any words or terms used to label and criticize abuses of power will be treated as unconscionable slurs by the powerful people who support and are responsible for those abuses.

DARVO is a way of life for them.

She was not paying attention to him. Her vision was floating over the million scattered lights of the city, the waters of the bay, and the distant, dark mysticism of the Southern Atlantic.

"You think I should stop," she suggested, "Settle for less."

"I don't want you to get hurt."

The word "again" was silently amended to that statement.

Jessica laughed. "There is something I want you to see when we get home," she said, and retreated to her room for the rest of the evening.

#writing

Later, James asked: "Do you really need it?"

Jessica glanced at him and the sublimity of her soft features and softer expression was an answer of its own.

"Don't take this the wrong way," he said, "But you are a lovely girl already? Or could be. We have the means to give you whatever you need. Of course, I don't mean to stop. This search is as much about my sister as anything. It gives me hope sometimes."

"That you will find her."

"It feels foolish."

"Hope always does," she said.

#writing

They were in Rio de Jainero on one occasion, in the shadow of what Jessica called "the shrugging Christ," when Jack and James returned to their suite to find her standing on the balcony.

She wore a rather severe Victorian style dress and jacket, her hair catching the silver moonlight in its tips.

Jack sucked in his breath when he saw her so James knew he had the same thought he did.

"I'm sorry," she said, "Is it too much?"

"It's fine," James replied.

#writing

"That's an entire body," James said.

"That's the problem, see? If you put a man with a missing arm in front of the scanner, do you know what you'll see? Two arms. If you cut a leaf in half, it still appears whole. The energy is still there! At least at first."

"Eventually, the energy dies, the image fades. Some people lose that part of themselves. They allow themselves to disconnect from it. It hurts less?"

"Ugh," Jack said, as if that implication hit him worse than anything.

#writing

"I'm not," Jessica said, "I found it hard to believe myself at first. I denied it. I spent years trying to pick apart the theory and arguing with Dr. Stoltzmann. She thought it was funny! I wanted so badly to believe. She could tell. But I was afraid of what it meant. About me. About everything."

The ghostly woman on the screen pointed with the same languid motion as she used. "That's me. That's my soul. Or whatever you want to call it."

#writing

Once the machines were fired up, the monitors collectively projected the image.

It took James a few seconds to realize what he was looking at. (It took Jack considerably longer.) The image was much improved from the cloudy ghost on Dr. Stoltzmann's machine.

The soul image was distinctly female with a skull and skeletal system. James' skin crawled when he realized he could even see the intimation of organs within the body of light. The beating heart.

"You're joking," Jack said.

#writing

Like, "back to normal" doesn't appeal to a whole bunch of people for whom "normal" sucked.

Trump is infinitely more successful as a politician than as a businessman because he speaks in clear, simple terms about retribution and being "cheated." He gives easy, stupid solutions (that make things worse). He talks about blame (but takes no responsibility himself).

Everyone assumes it's his appeal to prejudice that's the magic touch and play "follow the fascist" trying to prove their own racist, sexist bonafides.

But Trump's approval sinks like a rock as soon as he's in power.

Americans hate everything, especially the people in charge, probably because they keep insisting everything is fine because they're getting rich!

Unfortunately, most Americans are also apathetic because they don't see anyone fighting. They see rigged systems with rigged outcomes and a corporate-political-media establishment that insists better things aren't possible.

Why? He doesn't fix anything. He makes them worse. He's not anti-establishment, he's just another rich grifter asshole.

It's only Americans' racism and goldfish memories and the sheer condescending, quisling uselessness of the opposition party that made him a viable candidate.

Trump is a case of the American populist impulse misfiring on behalf of a lazy corporate scumbag and Neo-Nazi darling because he makes the right angry mouth noises on the campaign trail.

I hated my dead name from the beginning and deleted it as soon as possible. I feel nothing about it. It wasn't a separate person. It was just the wrong name.

What people want is to be treated with respect and paid a wage worth living on.