The (in)Famous Mx. Ed

I’ll admit I’m a little skeptical of any invitations INTO the tent, but that’s also because I’m actively reading a book about the time Spanish Anarchists trusted the more moderate left and got COMPLETELY fucked over during the Spanish Civil War, so I’m not necessarily coming at it clearly.

They need a big tent as long as that tent doesn’t include anyone yucky, like gay people, or trans people, or people of color, or… well, anyone who might have Opinions.

Really the only sad part about Dick Cheney dying is that Harry Whittington died first, and was denied his richly deserved revenge via shotgun. When Cheney gets to hell, I hope Whittington is waiting for him, a barrel full of birdshot in hand.

Andy Samberg and Justin Timberlake from the SNL short “dick in a box”

Woke up today to the news

Always join the winning team, that’s all I’m saying.

Joining the war on drugs…

On the side of drugs.

Ursula K. LeGuin on technology

I recognize these and I don’t fuckin’ like it.

The most horrifying words a Holocaust and Genocide Studies historian can say are “hey, that seems familiar.”

The many monarchs of Europe, the slaver's Confederacy, the Kaiser, the Nazis, the Italian fascists, Imperial Japan and many more all assumed that because liberals value peace and human life, that they were weak and feckless and easily beaten.

Go look for them now.

But fuck, man. If there’s one thing rednecks are supposed to hate, it’s a rich man from the city telling us what to do. We might not agree on much, but we at least were supposed to agree on that.

There’s a lot of shame in Appalachia, and a lot of things that we need to reckon with. I’m not gonna pretend it’s a pure, untouched land, or that everyone there is a good labor radical waiting to join the revolution. It’s a place with a population of millions.

You don’t get to claim that you’re one of us, and then starve us and kill us and call us “ungrateful.”

You don’t get to dance for the man from New York like a trained bear and pretend to come from the same place that gave us the Coal Wars and the Battle of Blair Mountain.

You can make an argument that I’m also not a hillbilly, or a redneck, or what have you, because I grew up in a house in a town, and not up a holler like my dad or my grandpap. But at least my home town is in Appalachia. At least I’m not a carpet-bagging venture capitalist from Middletown Ohio.

The real reason you can tell he’s not a hillbilly or a redneck or a hick or whatever else he tries to claim is that when the rich man from New York came and told him to dance, JD Vance put his prettiest church clothes on and started doing the two-step.

Y’know, sometimes I think about JD fucking Vance, and it just pisses me off. Like fuck, man, from the roots I hate that man.

Y’all means all, except for him.

Ain’t no goddamn way I’m calling him “first cousin once removed Jason,” be serious.

It’s also really common in redneck culture? Like even us hicks have a concept of “oh yeah that’s Uncle Jason, your great-aunt’s kid.”

The fuck is going on over in LA?

Quick I’m at the Ren Faire and all of my normal roleplay buddies aren’t here — what’s my quest this year?

Last year it was to try and get the queen to sign my letter of marque, but I’m not wearing my privateer kit. It’s “general peasant and miscreant” hours.

As far as any of us know, you ARE Chappell Roan. Who can say?

My degree is in Genocide Studies (no PhD, though it’s something I’ve considered strongly), and oh BOY does it suck when I see stuff I recognize.

It’s becoming a running “joke” that the most terrifying words I can say in response to news is “oh hey this reminds me of […],” because it’s NEVER A GOOD THING!

Jesus Christ this is such a fucking mood. I don’t like that I keep recognizing shit that’s happening! I don’t like going “hey I know that one” to concentration camps and secret police!

Cursed places: a bookstore that doesn’t organize its history section by subject, and instead just puts books by author, regardless of topic.

It’s how brazen it is. Like at least previously they respected us, or feared the response enough to try and act like they weren’t venal, hateful roaches.

Now they act like it doesn’t matter, because it seems like it doesn’t.

I don’t have a picture of it handy, because it’s on my back, but it’s an adeptus mechanicus cog and skull. Because it’s truly so easy to just, not get a Nazi tattoo.

It truly is that easy. I can do it, and I’m not a genius!

(Now, am I unsuitable for office in other ways? Sure, yeah, I’d declare war on Ohio day one, but that’s why I’m not running for office. I know my lane.)

I just want to put it out there: I ALSO have a skull tattoo that I got on impulse when I was in my early 20s, and it’s NOT a Nazi skull, because I have the basic presence of mind to a) know what a Nazi skull looks like, and b) not accidentally go to a tattoo parlor where they’d tattoo Nazi skulls.

I finished writing a character journal for @rufflejax.bsky.social’s upcoming LARP, Birds of Holy Terra, and I need a shower — Interrogator Klenger might be the scummiest character I’ve ever been party too.

All this to say, I think she’s perfect and I nailed “so bad the Inquisition hates her.”

You told me it was girl eating gold — you were nonspecific as to the type of eating.

Plus if this gets super popular maybe I’ll get to write more about Women With Trauma and Machine Guns, and wouldn’t that be swell.