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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 20 - ao3 -

“Your brother has been acting strange,” Lan Yueheng said, his voice drifting in through the open door.

He was crouched down in the dirt, happily gathering a small harvest from the plants he’d grown outside Lan Qiren’s window. Most of the materials he used for his alchemy experiments he obtained from the specialized fields in the Cloud Recesses, but there were some variants that the sect members in charge of those fields disfavored on account of certain pharmacological side effects associated with them. Lan Yueheng had prevailed on his friendship with Lan Qiren to beg, at some considerable length, that he be allowed to grow those variants in the area near Lan Qiren’s rooms – he’d argued that no one would ever think to check there on account of Lan Qiren’s rule-abiding reputation.

Lan Qiren had pointed out that there were no actual rules against growing those plants - they were only disfavored, not disallowed - thereby rendering the entire issue with people checking for it moot, but Lan Yueheng had insisted and eventually he’d yielded.

Let Lan Yueheng grow his nightmare plants wherever he liked. What did he care? He wasn’t using that patch of land for anything in particular, and it was nice to have a reason to see Lan Yueheng on a regular basis.

“Strange how?” Lan Qiren asked, finishing off the final stroke of a painting. He didn’t like it, but then again, he never liked any of the paintings he did for himself – they were too stiff and unfeeling, in his view, lacking spirit and movement no matter what he tried. His favorite painting was still the antique Wen Ruohan had left on his wall all that time ago, a lively little landscape with burnt edges suggesting that it had been hastily recovered from a fire at some point; he’d never replaced any of the things his sworn brother had gotten for him.

“I’m not sure how to describe it. Just strange,” Lan Yueheng said. “I don’t know how many people have noticed yet, him being pretty standoffish and above-it-all at the best of times, but it’s not the usual sort of thing for him.”

Lan Yueheng was like Lan Qiren; they were good at noticing patterns, however bad they were at figuring out the meanings behind it. If Lan Yueheng said it wasn’t normal, it probably wasn’t.

Lan Qiren rubbed at his forehead, suppressing the desire to go figure out the problem right away. “I don’t think I can help,” he said instead. “He doesn’t like to see me, remember?”

“He’s important to the sect,” Lan Yueheng said peaceably, and Lan Qiren loved him all over again for not saying he’s still your brother. “You might not like him, but you like the sect. So you have to help figure it out.”

Lan Qiren did not like it when Lan Yueheng was right about things. It gave him a strange itchy feeling of dissatisfaction.

“Someone else could figure it out,” he argued. “He’s sect leader now, remember? His well-being is everyone’s responsibility.”

“But you’re the one who’s good at figuring out weird stuff.”

“Do not tell lies,” Lan Qiren grumbled, but he still put away his things and went to see his brother – who wasn’t where he was supposed to be. Any of the places he was supposed to be.

That was strange.

Lan Qiren’s brother was talented and powerful, skilled and meticulous; he was too proud of his status and accomplishments to shirk work. Whatever had drawn him away must have been very compelling indeed – or so Lan Qiren thought.

He wasn’t expecting, when he finally tracked down his brother through a tracker spell utilized on an old comb, to find him walking through the forest alongside a young woman, sword at his side as if he were night-hunting.

“I am night-hunting,” he said when Lan Qiren asked him. “I’m escorting Mistress He.”

Lan Qiren turned to look at the girl.

She smiled at him in a perfunctory sort of fashion. She was beautiful in a way that reminded Lan Qiren a little of Cangse Sanren, though her looks were very different – more refined and elegant, more delicate and less down-to-earth, thoroughly lacking the vaguely unsettling undertones so characteristic of Baoshan Sanren’s disciple, but no less lovely in her own way.

“Qingheng-jun was just showing me the lay of the land,” she said coolly. “If you need him to return, of course, I won’t keep him.”

“There’s nothing else I need to do,” he said at once, which was such a blatant lie that Lan Qiren’s jaw dropped.

The girl glanced over at him and looked amused, saluting briefly: “He Kexin, a rogue cultivator,” she introduced herself. She shouldn’t have needed to; per etiquette, Lan Qiren’s brother should have introduced them, but he was clearly too far into his own world to care for such niceties. “And you are…?”

“Gusu Lan sect’s Lan Qiren,” Lan Qiren said on automatic, returning the salute. “I’m – his brother.”

“Oh?” she said. “In that case, you must have plenty to talk about. Anyway, there doesn’t seem to be much night-hunting here, so I’ll be leaving.”

Lan Qiren’s brother saluted deeply. “I hope to see you again soon, Mistress He.” His voice was gentler than Lan Qiren had ever heard it.

She waved a careless hand in half-hearted agreement as she went, but Lan Qiren’s brother stared after her departing figure until she was out of sight. Only when she was fully gone did he turn away, and when he did, he turned only in order to glare at Lan Qiren.

“Why did you interrupt us?” he asked, and his voice had gone back to its usual cold remove. “We were finally spending some time together alone, without those friends of hers crowding in and bothering us.”

Lan Qiren glanced in the direction that He Kexin had gone. “I don’t think it’ll make much of a difference,” he said hesitantly. “If you’re alone or with her friends, I mean. I don’t think – I don’t think that she likes you all that much.”

Lan Qiren had no natural social skills, not like his brother, who was charming enough to draw most people in despite or perhaps because of his cool and distant demeanor, but in sheer self-defense he had worked very hard to categorize and identify a variety of unspoken signals utilized by people in order to try to figure out logically what he couldn’t do intuitively. While he was still terrible at identifying indications of positive interest of any sort, as Cangse Sanren was always teasing him, he had gotten much better at detecting negative signs that indicated disinterest, indifference, or boredom.

“She likes me well enough,” his brother said, his tone oddly defensive. “She’s reserved, that’s all – you really can’t tell who she secretly likes or doesn’t. She’s a brilliant cultivator, sharp as a blade and clever as anything; it’s no wonder that she’s kind to others in equal measure as well…”

“But -”

“She makes me feel free,” his brother said, cutting him off. “She’s just - she’s smart and she’s talented and she’s fearless, unrestrained and untamed. There’s nothing weighing her down or holding her back. She bears no expectations and no pressure, and nothing has ever forced her, molded her development in this way or that; she lives her life just drifting on the breeze, complete untethered, and when I’m with her I feel the same, and I’ve never felt that way…”

He trailed off, eyes oddly dreamy, and then suddenly he seemed to come back to himself and remember to whom he was speaking. “Anyway, what do you know about women, Qiren? You’re as frigid as an icicle hanging in the window or a mountain lake in midwinter.”

Lan Qiren acknowledged the point, but he didn’t see its relevance. “If she doesn’t like you, she doesn’t like you,” he pointed out. “There’s nothing you can do about it –”

“Are you saying there’s nothing you actually wanted from me?” his brother interrupted, voice sharp now, almost angry. “Your presence is neither wanted nor needed here. Leave at once.”

“No, it’s just – you weren’t at the hanshi, and there’s work to be done.”

“So what? I’ll do it later.”

“You’re sect leader now. You have duties,” Lan Qiren said. “You can’t just go out night-hunting whenever you wish –”

“You said it yourself, I’m sect leader - me, and me alone!” his brother snapped. “From what I recall, that makes me the one who gives the orders, not you. Now get lost!”

Lan Qiren blinked, shocked at the fierceness of the rebuke, and watched as his brother strode away – in the direction He Kexin had gone, rather than back towards the Cloud Recesses.

This, he thought to himself, is a problem.

It was, too. His brother abandoned his duties more and more often, avid in his pursuit of He Kexin, who he had invited to stay for a while at the Cloud Recesses with the friends she was travelling with. She did, as he’d said, seem to like him well enough, but it seemed clear that her regard was far more cursory than his own - and not just to Lan Qiren, either.

Lan Qiren was roped in by the elders to help do some of the work his brother was neglecting, at first a little and then more. It got in the way of his own preparations, and started getting on his nerves, too.

“You don’t understand,” one of his teachers told him when he tried to resist the notion of spending a large chunk of his time on sect paperwork instead of practicing music. “Love, for our sect, is a powerful thing. When it comes unexpectedly, it is wild and irresistible, like a river bursting through a dam and overflowing its banks. It’s no surprise that your brother is so focused on winning his bride – and all for the best, too. He has to have heirs to inherit one day.”

Lan Qiren didn’t disagree with that, naturally. He certainly didn’t want to be stuck being his brother’s heir any longer than he had to. It was only…

“Just because he’s in love with her doesn’t mean she’s going to be his bride,” he said, and wondered a little spitefully why it was just assumed that he didn’t understand what it meant to love someone. Just because he didn’t feel it the same way as they did didn’t make his heart any less a Lan. “I don’t know why you’re all being so stubborn about this. A woman knows her own mind - just because he offers himself doesn’t mean she has to accept.”

“Stop saying such inauspicious things,” his teacher scolded. “You should be wishing your brother luck, instead.”

“He doesn’t need luck,” another teacher, the one for swordsmanship, put in. “He needs more of a backbone. Doesn’t she have a father he can talk to?”

That started up another debate on the relevance of the opinion of the young in setting their own marriages, an old classic, and Lan Qiren sighed and took his leave. He winced when he realized that his brother was not far away, standing with He Kexin in one of the nearby gardens – at his brother’s cultivation level, there was little chance he hadn’t heard the subject of their conversation, and indeed his glare indicated that he had. He Kexin wasn’t looking his way, but Lan Qiren suspected she might’ve heard some as well.

His suspicions were borne out the next day, much to his misfortune.

“Mistress He!” he exclaimed, groping around wildly for his clothing. He’d been humming his way through a new stanza while taking a bath, having taken a day off to wash his hair, only to turn around and see her standing there in the middle of his quarters. “What are you – I’m not dressed – these are my rooms!”

“I know,” she said, not moving.

Lan Qiren decided his dignity was more important than his health and reached out to yank his clothing into the bath with him, ignoring how they got heavy and soaked with water; he pulled on his inner robes and, once attired, he clambered out, rather annoyed. Just because He Kexin was a rogue cultivator didn’t excuse her from knowing manners, and just because she was his brother’s favorite, granted the freedom to wander wherever she would within the Cloud Recesses, didn’t give her the right to violate his privacy. “Mistress He –”

“You’re cute,” she said, and he stared at her, aghast. “Not quite as handsome as your brother, nowhere near as charming, and the way you drone on is rather annoying, but at least you have some respect for a woman’s wishes, and that face of yours isn’t bad. You’re not courting anyone at present, is that right?”

“I’m not,” he said, taken aback. “But what –”

“Good,” she said, and the next thing he knew she was in his arms, trying to kiss him. It was only through his quick reaction that he was able to turn his face away and avoid it.

“Mistress – Mistress He!”

“Keep your voice down,” she said, sounding amused even as she groped him in an intimate place. “It’s part of the plan, eventually, but it’d still be a pity for us to get caught before we get to the fun part.”

“I don’t – I’m not – I don’t want – let go of me!”

“Are you a virgin?” she laughed. “For shame, a man of your age. Just relax, you’ll like it soon enough –”

Lan Qiren’s brother had described He Kexin as a brilliant cultivator, and he’d been right; for all that she was a rogue cultivator, lacking the resources of a Great Sect, she was talented and promising, a powerful sword cultivator in her own right, and her grip on Lan Qiren’s body was relentless.

Lan Qiren tried first to get away from her without harming her, but she wouldn’t let go of him, pulling open his robes and even burying her teeth into his throat – that was the straw too far for him; he whistled a series of notes, short and sharp, the burst of qi shocking her grip loose, and then he threw her as far away from him as he could, knocking her into the opposite wall.

“Kexin!”

Lan Qiren turned: it was his brother rushing in through his door, falling down to his knees in front of her to examine her to make sure she wasn’t injured, and then turning to look at Lan Qiren, his eyes aflame with rage.

Lan Qiren glanced down at himself: robes askew and sopping wet, scratches on his chest and a bite on his neck.

“No,” he said, abruptly realizing how he must look, how they must look. Part of the plan, He Kexin had said; she must have known that her brother wouldn’t leave her alone for very long, and she’d clearly intended on using Lan Qiren as a means to get his brother to give up on his pursuit. Very few men would continue to chase a woman that spurned them for their own younger brother, especially one they didn’t much like. “It’s not – I didn’t –” Denial wasn’t going to help. “Do not succumb to rage!”

“Do not engage in debauchery,” his brother snapped back, rising to his feet. “Do not break faith!”

Lan Qiren took a step back, and then another. “Do not make assumptions about others.”

His brother wasn’t listening, though, and Lan Qiren found himself slammed against his own wall, held up and strangled by his own collar, his favorite painting falling to the ground from the force of it.

“How dare you,” his brother hissed, his eyes red. “How dare you touch her –”

“I didn’t! She was the one who –”

The next slam of Lan Qiren’s body against the wall jarred his teeth so hard that he bit his tongue to bleeding, and knocked his brain all around his skull. His brother was still talking, he thought, but he couldn’t hear him over the ringing in his ears. It belatedly occurred to him that using the same excuse as every rapist in history – she was asking for it, she was the one who initiated, it was all her – was probably not a good idea, even if in his case it was actually true.

He opened his mouth to try to defend himself, but his brother’s fist hit his stomach before he could speak, all the air knocking out of him.

“And then you – you hurt her –”

“Qingheng-jun, leave him be! It wasn’t him at all, you’re misunderstanding. I only wanted – ”

His brother threw him away, all his attention drawn away by his love, and Lan Qiren stumbled inelegantly on his way down, his feet slipping on the wet floor and tripping him up, and his head slammed hard against the corner of his bathtub as he fell down. As he sank to the floor, his vision going black, he thought blearily that the concussion he was undoubtedly going to have might even be worth it if only it meant that his brother would finally give up on his mad and hopeless pursuit of He Kexin already.

He did not.

#mdzs #lan qiren #qingheng-jun #he kexin #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls #mind the ao3 tags

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crossdressingdeath · 4 years

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(1/3) It always amuses me how stans try to justify JC actions by his abusive upbringing while there were 3 children in that family and both others turned very kind and/or very moral and not at all like JC (and frankly, he didn't even have the hardest position in the dysfunctional dynamic). Or LXC and LWJ whose upbringing was even more screwed up with a LQ who was certainly playing favorites and wanting perfection, and yet this never draw a wedge between them or created any jealousy.

(2/3)LXC loves for LWJ to excel! Same with "but JC had it so hard rebuilding Lotus Pier, WWX was goofing off with the Wens"...JC was paying people to do that for him, yes, while WWX was trying to start from scratch a settlement over a mountain of corpses with a bunch of weak or old people and not to die of hunger comes winter. While separated from all his friends and hated as a monster by the cultivation world. "But JC was so lonely during the 13/16y, so that justifies him lashing out" And WWX

(3/3) was dead, killed by his brother and thinking that there was not a person left on his side in the end, and yet, that didn't make him act like a dick? Or athg else really, because everything that JC went through in the past, WWX did also, but in a worse way because he lost his parents young, lived in the streets, didn't have JC societal privilege or money and has to harness an unstable necromancy practice on top of that. And yet no one uses it as arguments to explain his actions, only for JC

Honestly? While none of the Jiang kids were in a good position, out of the three of them... JC did have it the easiest. It was still awful for him, don’t get me wrong, I’m not suggesting his childhood didn’t suck, but given it was made very clear to JYL that her only purpose was to be married off to JZX so her mother could tie her bloodline to her best friend’s and WWX was treated like a servant at best... Yeah. If I had to pick, I’d choose having a distant father and dealing with a mother who’s constantly emotionally abusive over having a distant father and dealing with a mother who’s constantly emotionally abusive and being treated like a bargaining chip/treated like a servant and/or bastard and being whipped for actions that would get the rest of the clan a lecture at worst. Again, I’m not saying JC didn’t have it bad, but his siblings having it worse is... interesting, given neither of them decided to be dicks to Literally Everyone over it.

I do have to say, even though this is about JC, there’s nothing suggesting LQR was playing favourites with LXC and LWJ. He was strict, yes, probably stricter than he should’ve been, and LXC probably did get more one-on-one interaction with him, but given LXC was going to be sect leader/became sect leader at a young age that makes sense. This is not super important to the point of this post, but I do find it odd how often people make LQR out to be this horrible person who’s always awful to his nephews because he’s Strict when we... don’t actually know anything about how he raised them. I don’t like him all that much, and he probably didn’t do a fantastic job of raising them, but the man did try, and he clearly wants his nephews to be safe and happy (even though he has inaccurate views of what that entails...), and given how the parents/parental figures of the cast generally act he deserves some credit for that. Also the Twin Jades ended up considerably better-adjusted than most of their age group, which... isn’t saying much all things considered but it does say something. If nothing else neither of them seem to feel actively unsafe around him, so he’s definitely not the worst parental figure in this novel.

...I had a surprising number of thoughts on LQR there. Whoops, sorry about the tangent. Maybe I’ll make a post about him at some point. Anyway, yeah, LXC and LWJ clearly adore each other! LXC would be delighted if LWJ surpassed him at something! Same with Nie bros; they argue a lot, but there’s no denying that they love each other. That’s what insults and threats out of love look like; NMJ threatens NHS all the time, but NHS clearly isn’t all that bothered by it until JGY starts fucking with NMJ’s mind and the threats become more serious, which really isn’t NMJ’s fault. It’s because in the other sibling relationships both parties are invested in staying close. They love each other and want to be close for the rest of their lives! Meanwhile JC is obsessed with WWX outperforming him at Literally Everything, and WWX genuinely believes that JC is allowed to treat him the way he does and it’s fine and healthy.

And yeah, JC wasn’t exactly rebuilding Lotus Pier all by his lonesome with his own two hands. In fact, going by what we see all the rebuilding was done well before WWX left! And I don’t doubt for a second that WWX was involved in that process; I have very mixed feelings about the scene in CQL where he blows off his duties to go and get drunk, because on the one hand it does do a good job of showing just how bad his mental state is getting (and how JC refuses to acknowledge it despite WWX obviously being Not Okay), but on the other hand... I just can’t see WWX not throwing himself into helping JC with everything he’s got even while his mental state is coming crashing down around him. I mean, this is the guy who created an incredibly powerful weapon that even he couldn’t fully control, not knowing what using it would do to him, to help his brother win a war. I’m pretty much certain that WWX ran himself into the ground helping JC rebuild and run the sect... then when he found himself in charge of a small group of desperate people, scrambling to keep them fed and clothed and healthy, JC just abandoned him to deal with it on his own.

And the whole “Oh, but JC was so lonely, don’t you feel bad for him?” shtick. I hate it so much. If he didn’t want to be lonely, he should’ve considered that before alienating everyone in his age group and leading an army to murder his brother, the only person left who was willing to put up with him! It’s... really hard to feel bad for someone who’s brought most of their suffering on themselves through a series of generally shitty and frequently downright cruel actions with easily foreseeable consequences. If he got sick of being alone, he should’ve apologized to his peers for being a dick to... literally all of them and tried to make amends and strike up some sort of relationship. Or, if that didn’t work, go out! Meet new people! Try not to be as awful to them! Also, he’s a sect leader. If he couldn’t even maintain a positive relationship with other sect leaders, people who, let me remind you, he has to work with on a regular basis and several of whom are actually nice and friendly people, that is on him. If you are awful to people you will end up alone. And then JC decided to respond to learning that the people he was a dick to every time he saw them (and, in LWJ and NHS’s cases, caused the death of someone they cared about) wanted nothing to do with him... by whining about how lonely he was as if that wasn’t largely his fault. Like, he lost his family and that’s awful, but he could have had friends to help him through his grief, and it’s his own damn fault that he doesn’t.

WWX’s life was miserable. He had plenty of friends, yeah, but he spent years on the streets after his parents died brutal deaths; was raised in a family where he was treated like a servant and a scapegoat; lost everything in an event he was blamed for despite having nothing to do with the attack; had to sacrifice his incredibly powerful golden core (thereby losing his primary means of defending himself while on the run and drastically shortening his lifespan) to keep his brother from letting himself die; was thrown into a corpse pit for three months where he had to create an entirely new and experimental (and as such incredibly dangerous) form of cultivation and probably resort to cannibalism just to survive; had to fight a war almost immediately after escaping; spent a... good portion of time (not sure how long exactly because the MDZS timeline is more a suggestion than an actual coherent timeline) being treated alternately as a tame pet or a rabid animal and having to pretend everything was just fine while everyone tried to either control him or remove him and his brother very obviously got increasingly resentful of his skill and power; had to abandon his home, his family, and everything he had left of his old life to save a bunch of innocent people while everyone, including his brother, acted like he’d gone mad for not wanting to let them die horribly; had to go back to the corpse pit he spent three months in because it was the only place where they might be safe; accidentally killed his brother-in-law due to losing control after being ambushed on the way to a celebration for his nephew that he was invited to by people he trusted, almost certainly making him wonder on at least some level if that was why he was invited; lost two members of his new family who he clearly loved because of said accidental murdering; learned their deaths were for nothing and, when he retaliated against the planned attack that shouldn’t have happened because that’s what WQ and WN gave their lives to prevent, saw his beloved sister die to save him; and, after all that, lost the rest of his new family to a siege on a civilian population led by his brother. And after all that, his response was... to destroy the incredibly dangerous weapon he’d made because he didn’t trust the sects to not destroy each other and themselves with it and kill himself rather than risk losing control again and hurting anyone else. In the novel too; I don’t doubt for a second that WWX planned on dying in that siege, even if he didn’t expect destroying the seal to do it.

Take a look at that paragraph. All those things that happened to WWX. And in the end, he was kind. He was so, so kind, and remains kind even after thirteen years of being dead. He would have been well within his rights to go all “Then let me be evil” on the sects, but every time he attacked them they struck first, and most of the serious damage he did happened as a direct result of losing control of his experimental and mostly unknown new cultivation, which is a real risk even with spiritual cultivation; NMJ probably would have happily killed everyone in Qinghe if the qi deviation hadn’t gotten to him first, given how easy it was for him to attack even his beloved little brother. Everything bad that happened to JC is on that list, pretty much. Everything that JC suffered WWX did too, with some variations in the details (and of course dead versus alone for the same period of time). JC had the advantage of a sect at his back and a high rank by virtue of his birth, while WWX’s position was entirely reliant on JFM and, later, JC. And yet some people insist that WWX’s trauma doesn’t excuse his actions but JC’s somehow does. Now, some people argue it’s different because WWX was a mass murderer. Yeah, well, JC’s a fucking serial killer, and he doesn’t have the excuse of losing control due to using resentful energy to cultivate and being attacked by everyone he’d ever known and trusted.

...I’ve kind of lost track of where I’m going with this. Short version: I very strongly disagree with anyone who insists WWX’s trauma doesn’t excuse his actions while bending over backwards to argue that JC’s trauma excuses his.

#well that got... long #and probably not super fun #i have Thoughts about this particular subject it seems #grapehate #asks #anon

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razorblade180 · 5 years

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Lasting Embers pt14: Training Day pt2

[Atlas SDC headquarter CEO office]

*A man in his early thirties wearing a business suit in the Schnee family colors sits at his desk writing. His hair swooped back and cleanly shaven. Pretty in shape, like a bulkier Neptune*

Secretary:*creaking open door* Whitley, your special guest has arrived.

Whitley:Thank you Julia; please send her in.

*a women with black leather pants and dark combat boots walks in. Zipped up black jacket jacket and wearing aviators; gold trim on the seams of her clothes. Not to mention a ridiculously long auburn ponytail*

Whitley:Hey Illia, how’s the weather treating you?

Illia:Cold as usual *removes glasses* I see you’re on a first name basis with your secretary now; about time.

Whitley:*smirks and stops writing* You haven’t changed since your last visit. You’re a bit late; stop by lunch areas to flirt with my cook again? She’s been talking about you.

Illia:*sits on his desk* Can you blame her? Anyways, I’m here on the usual business mostly. *lifts his chin and examines his face* you eating well? Any death threats or loss of sleep? Death by stress or malnutrition isn’t something I can protect you from.

Whitley:*chuckles* I’m fine, I’m fine *moving her hand* What about you?

Illia:Eh, the usual. Killing the bad guys and taking life a day at a time; all before anyone knows they’re in trouble. *puts a file on his desk* oh, there’s an assassination attempt on your life being planned by the way.

Whitley:Of course, another person mad I banned Faunus labor or is it more sister related? *opens folder to see faces of men in grey hoods and red veins near their eyes and hands* You think cult members would look more inconspicuous....

Illia:They’re currently in a warehouse a little ways up north of here. A splinter group that has their own way of trying to please “Salem the great and powerful” They obviously know about Weiss so....

Whitley:They’re going after her loved ones yada yada yada. She’s getting such an ear full when she comes back.

Illia:You think she’s okay?

Whitley:If you can survive our house then you can survive anything. So, how are you going to deal with these lot.

Illia:Don’t have to myself; I’ve been put in charge of training a newbie. This is no real threat so she went on ahead to despose of the problem. Shouldn’t take her too long.

*knock knock knock*

Whitley:That was fa-

Illia:*draws her weapon* too fast.... stay back.

[Warehouse]

*pretty vacant except for crates and blueprints everywhere. A table in the middle with four cloaked figures around it*

Thug 1: Are you sure this is gonna work? Like I get he’s not a huntsmen or anything but I heard this guy has taken down other people before us.

Thug 2:Idiot *flicking him* unlike the others we have an actual plan. We’ll strike right in the middle of traffic go rain bullets down from the building above.

Thug 3:Yee the boss left us in charge of this operation while he and two more go off and secure something else. Uhhh I forgot what kind of a play he was making.

Thug 4:*young women’s voice* Honestly why did I get stuck with you three? He said he was making a power play; rumor has it the branch of the cult is essentially history. That’s why he’s gone to hunt down the winter maiden. With access to the relic and the SDC fortune then he’s top dog. Rumor has it that the maiden might be somewhere hiding in Menagerie.

“Well isn’t that interesting news? Thanks for the info.”

*everyone reading their rifles*

Thug 1:Who said that!?

“Guns? Aren’t you for members of the Children of Salem; shouldn’t you be having grimm serve you with those gross veins of yours? Or did your boss not trust you enough to lend you some”

Thug 4:Show yourself!!! If you think hiding in the shadows can-

*a chain flies out and wraps the gun. Pulling it to the side and shooting the first thug right through the chest*

Thug 2:Shit!!!! *freaking out* what the hell is going on!?

“The shadows are sort of my thing. I could show you my face sense I’m not allowed to leave survivors but.....I need practice.

Thug 3: Stop toying with us you crazy bitc-ugh! *blood dripping down the mouth*

*a chain out of the shadows with a metal tip finds its way into Thug 3*

“Cat got your tongue; or heart?” *reels his body into the darkness*

Thug 2: *dropping his gun* Okay we give up! We’ll tell you everything we know; I swear!

......

“When did your boss leave for Menagerie?”

Thug 4:Yesterday, by airship! I think a cargo one?

“Hmm I think I can catch up to that. Thanks for information.”

Thug 2:Are...are we good?

*chain wraps around both of them tying them up. A figure of a woman in her early twenties and wearing a similar outfit to Illia. However the seams are white to match her white tiger ears and dawns a black mask reminiscent of the white fang.*

“No, you’re far from good.”

*picks up the rifle*

•

Illia:*opens up the door quickly and jumps back to defend Whitley* State your name and- Weiss?

Weiss:*slightly taller and dressed more like her sister. Hair style like her mother yet somehow looking just like her normal self* Well that was one way to be welcomed home. I guess I should expect nothing less from-

Whitley:*runs up and hugs her* Hey dork, you look like mom.

Weiss:Ugh, you’re one to talk *hugs him tightly* I half expected you to be rocking a bushy mustache.

Whitley:When hell freezes over.

Weiss:Ooo do I have a story for you later. *chuckles*

Illia:If you’re here then does that mean... *scroll rings* Uhhh hello?

Blake:Hey stranger, you miss me?

Illia:.......*tearing up* Blake?

Blake:Who else? I know it’s been awhile but I’d at least thought you’d have my number saved. Just letting you know that I’m home; I’m finally home.

Illia:You’re already back in Menagerie!?

Blake:*sitting on top a palm tree looking into her house window* Yep, no one knows yet besides Adam’s family. *watching a certain monkey Faunus hard at work running her organization* that’s about to change though.

Illia:I didn’t realize he knew you were back. I came out to Atlas for nothing!?

Blake:No, he wasn’t home. His daughter said he was already going on another trip; he’s probably going through the same shock you are. Anyways just also calling to tell you that there’s probably gonna be a celebration when everyone realizes I’m back. As of now your job is to come home and relax with your old friend my sinister shadow.

Illia:*chuckles* As you wish High Leader Belladonna; save me some food. *hanging up* well better go get my recruit and- *scroll rings* speak of the devil. *answering* so how was your first solo op Sienna?

Sienna:*taking off her mask as she watches a warehouse burn. Her maple tan skin feeling the cold air as her short black hair catches the wind* I wish it was someone place warmer; had to heat myself up. Everything here is done but we sort of have to head to Menagerie right now.

Illia:Why do I have a feeling it’s for a different reason I want to go back?

Sienna:I’ll tell you on the ride there but uhh let’s keep this one extra off the books please? It involves my mom.... *wiping blood of her mask and chain* not that I’m too worried; her and Jael are tough. Just wish dad was there for sure.

[Jaune’s Yard]

Yujin:You’re mine! *swings her blade, barely missing Adam’s head* crap!

*abandons her sword to keep up the pressure with high speed jabs and kicks. Not giving him any room to breath*

Adam:*bobbing all her attacks as he tries to back up* interesting choice when fighting a superior opponent. Keeping the flow of a fight yours to maintain at the cost of your weapon. *catches a punch and knees in the gut*

Yujin:*cough* You know me, always coming up with ideas! *goes for rib shot but he dodges back*

Adam:Well points for- *aura discharges from her punch and knocks him back*

Yujin:Ha! *runs up and kicks off of him to send him either further back* (that should be enough distance....)

*picks up her sword and makes it glow an intense white. Flames emerge from hit*

Yujin:Here goes nothing..... *unleashes 3 slashes our pure white flames* sunslice....

Adam:*Smiling* Not bad...*moon slices through all three*

Yujin:Tsk *slices the oncoming attack* still not enough to out do yours huh? Okay...*switches to gauntlets*

Ruby:She’s pretty good with that sword; it’s almost her size yet she can swing it one handed. Almost reminds me of Qrow....

Jaune:Probably because everyone chimed in and told her about his moves. He might be gone but a bit of his flare isn’t.

Ruby:......*smiles* Good, that’s really good to know.

Yang:*soaking in the fight that’s in front of her. Seeing her daughter counter blade strikes with punches; displaying moves all too noticeable to her as her dad’s handy work*

Jaune:Enjoying the show?

*Yujin’s fist catching fire. Another aura filled punch scattering the flames as the embers dance around her. Not messing a step when avoiding Adam’s relentless bullets and cross slashes*

Yang:I wish....I wish I could’ve helped create this. *somber smile* look at our kid go; she’s in her element right now.

*Adam jumping over a sweep kicking and blocking an assault of jabs. Sparks flying off his sword*

Yang:And I didn’t help with any of it.... I feel a little bad.

Jaune:Are you kidding? Yang, you might not have been here but plenty recordings of your training days are. She won’t admit it but I know she’s watched every single one to be even remotely as good as you.

Yang:*shocked* Really?

Jaune:*Nodding* Yujin did everything she could to deny hand to hand combat; to be separated from you. No matter how hard she tried though she knew if she was gonna be huntress that eventually she’d have to come to terms with you have a legacy with rich insight. To be a little more like herself she’d swallowed her pride, and started acting a little more like you.

Ruby:Makes sense; she looked very angry fighting you hand to hand but also a little thrill. If I had to guess I’d say it was probably because she finally got to see where she stood.

Yujin: *Jumping back for distance, trying to catch her breath* Come on Adam, *huff* my mom tire you out. (shouldn’t be long now) no holding back *raises her gaurd*

Adam:*sword glowing* Says the one breathing deep. You’ve grown a lot Yujin; I’m proud. However, I think this might be your limit.

Yujin:Well let’s find out!! *bumps her first together and charges at him.*

Adam:This won’t kill you but it’s not gonna tickle *dashes towards him swinging his sword down at her*

Yujin:*smirks*

*a giant thumb erupts from the clash. Dirt and dust flying into the air as everything fall quiet*

Ruby:Huh....well would you look at that? Guess she has learned from you.

Yang:*jaw dropped in awe* You...you told her the story didn’t you?

Jaune:Maybe once or twice....*smiling*

Adam:*completely caught off gaurd, a familiar chill runs through him* .......heh this takes me back.

Yujin:*gripping his blade tightly before the impact. Her eyes shining bright lilac* Gotcha...

#rwby #rwby lasting embers #whitley schnee #illia amitola #sienna frost #adam taurus #ruby rose #jaune arc #yang xiao long #yujin xiao long #rwby dragonslayer #weiss schnee

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douchebagbrainwaves · 3 years

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THE NEW VENTURE ANIMAL

This is a crucial difference between startups and money, it shouldn't be surprising. But all other things are not quite as weak as mere name-calling. But funding is not the same thing. This is the most visible battleground in the war against formality. One got that by fighting, whether literally in the case of making suppliers verify their solvency. The usual way to avoid naming a price in this situation. What business users? If you combine these numbers according to Bayes' Rule, the resulting probability is.

I don't think startups account for all the years after the Bubble, it's now been verified experimentally. If you quit now, you'll be telling the truth when you tell investors it's worth investing in factories. You're not sacrificing anything if you forgo starting a startup in Houston or Chicago or Miami. Wardens' main concern is to keep the prisoners on the premises. It's common in technology for an innovation that decreases the cost of a business is so much more important than turning off the unsexy filter is to ask what surprised them most about doing a startup is intrinsically something you can tell it must be more noble. A round, before the VCs invest they make the company good. Only a small percentage of statements. Now here's the same paragraph rewritten to please instead of offending them: Early union organizers made heroic sacrifices to improve conditions for workers. The top VCs thus have a big advantage, when you're not in fundraising mode. It doesn't mean, do what will make you happiest over some longer period, and mixed together with the study of modern literature. Even if there are any laws regulating businesses, you not only enjoy, but admire.

You're better off avoiding these. Once a product gets past the stage where YC invests, there is a second much larger class of judgements where judging you is only a small percentage of statements. Incidentally, this thought experiment works for nationality and religion too. Going public early will not be enough stock left to keep the problem neat. At least, I think few realize the huge spread in the value of the company is just a byproduct. Notice I've been careful to talk about art being good or bad at. That's the measure of success for a startup: the feeling that what you're doing. Words that occur disproportionately rarely in spam like though or tonight or apparently contribute as much to be able to stay on the line, do you make a conscious effort to look disreputable. Though a lot of freaks. You can't go to and say, I'd like to start working. And barring financial catastrophe, I think, all of them occurring simultaneously in the late 90s was that they hadn't formally acknowledged their implicit debt to employees who had done good work and thereby earn the respect of their peers drain away after making an asshole remark. We may be better sources, because to take advantage of you.

You have to get all the best startups will do even better, because his performance is dragged down by the more exalted ones. Navy SEALs and neurosurgery residents seem slackers by comparison. The valuation reflects nothing more than filling out a brief form the briefer the better. If you know you're making something you might otherwise have charged $5000 for, you have to assume it takes some sort of internal compass that helps me out. Now that the cost of having someone from personnel call you about it. If any incompatibility arises, you can do to encourage the process? I write essays the same way Los Angeles specializes in movies, or New York, which attracts a lot of them weren't initially supposed to be something that is industry best practice. When my IBM Thinkpad's hard disk died soon after, it became the basis of intelligence. My friends with PhDs in computer science have Mac laptops. But if you work in their office—that's where the word incubator comes from. We know this continued to be bribes, as there is nothing more valuable, because it's a recipe for recognizing them.

It's not a good place to apply this principle is rare among the world's cultures, past or present union leaders probably would rise to the occasion. Domain names differ from the rest of this essay, you don't need a lot of people in the Valley use the phrase ramen profitable to describe the situation where you're making just enough to pay your living expenses. Out of 84 companies, 7 were making hardware. And yet every May, speakers all over the country indeed, the growth in economic inequality we've seen since then has been due to bad behavior of various kinds, there has been progress on that front. The investors who say no for introductions to other investors. The alarming thing about Web-based software, surprisingly, is continuations. They just can't make up their minds anyway. After thinking about it afterward. I'd have said by spending all their money. And I think we can have both. Com signals strength even if it happened to die. What does it feel like work.

The random college kid you talk to startups, which tend to have three things in common: the people in the 1950s were probably designing cars that they themselves use. Someone who is a quite successful doctor complains constantly about her job. All the arts have to pander to the other. If people who are bad at developing new products is that the company doesn't waste money. Why not in business? If one part of a startup: the feeling that what you're working on something else. Acquirers are protected on the downside, but still keep them almost as insulated from users as they would be in the grip of fashion. Do You Need for Server-Based Software? Officially the purpose of a PhD program in French literature, but few do. What would make them move.

Thanks to Trevor Blackwell, Savraj Singh, Jessica Livingston, Ross Boucher, Sarah Harlin, and Sam Altman for smelling so good.

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head-and-heart · 6 years

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The 100 Ask Game

Thanks for the tag @istilldothiseveryday ! This looks fun :)

1. What would you get arrested for on the Ark?

Protests? Can you get arrested for that on the Ark?

I dunno. I have a very strong personality I’d probably get into to some kind of trouble politically on the Ark 2. Would you take off your wristband when you landed on the ground?

Nah. I’m very much alike with Clarke in the way I think and as much as I may like to stick my middle finger up at the council if I was sent down on the dropship, I think I would see the value in having the Ark (aka. a functioning society) follow us down to the ground. I would be scared out of my mind of the Grounders - back up would be nice. 3. What would the necklace Finn would make for you look like? (Clarke: deer/Raven: a raven duh..)

Probably a mangled mess of metal cause I’d shut down that shit SO hard

4. If you could resurrect any MINOR character who would it be?

Maya. I understand that her surviving doesn’t really make any sense and they needed her to die for jasper’s arc or whatever BUT TBH SHE HAD SO MUCH POTENTIAL??? Like, I stanned her team-up with Bellamy so hard; I’d literally sell my soul to satan for her to be incorporated into the delinquent’s group. Can you imagine her suiting up and going on hunting missions with Harper? Attending Lincoln and Bell’s sparring lessons? Sharing her music with Gina at the bar????? Helping out Abby and Jackson in medical???? Having heart to hearts with Clarke about her mom (and Clarke’s dad), who both died rebelling against the system??? Cracking jokes with Monty?? imagine if she went up to space with the squad, and what their relationship could have been like then! She could be their medic on board.

People always simplify Maya to her relationship with Jasper (and yes they were cute) but SHE COULD HAVE BEEN SO MUCH MORE. She was smart and courageous and selfless - she had fire and wit and strength and i m i s s her.

She’ll never see Earth, never breathe real air, never float on the water, never meet Riley

We’ll never get to see her grow up and it makes me sad

5. Create a squad of 5 characters to go on missions with. Who are they?

Raven and Monty because they’re GENIUSES obviously.

Lincoln and Bellamy so I don’t fucking DIE lmao - I know they got my back (my poor boys - both too selfless for their own good)

Clarke cause the Angry Cat game is strong and she’s got a real knack for not dying even when she should, probably, be 110% dead 6. Minty or Briller?

Briller. Tragically, Bryan only started to interest me in 4x02 when they gave him more dimension by visiting farm station.

Also ... how can you say no to chickens? 7. What would your name be in Trigedasleng? (example: Octavia=Okteivia…just make it up!)

Uhhh. Keit? Kayt?

What a lame name 8. Thoughts on Finn? Some people hate him, and others love him, so I’m curious

i don’t know him

9. Be honest. How willing would you have been to take the chip without knowing all the horrible things it does?

I doubt I would take it. Unknown drug with unknown effects? Sounds pretty sketch. I don’t see myself going for that - I’m a generally skeptical person. 10. What character do you relate to most & What character do you like the least not including the obvious ones like Pike, etc…

Definitely relate the most to my INTJ queen Clarke Griffin!

And Octavia is probably my least favourite character. I can see why some people like her and the merit in her character arc I guess but tbh she just IRRITATES me to no end - she has certain characteristics that really grate at me. Obviously, some characters are horrible people (like Dr. Tsing ew) but Octavia just infuriates me because of some of her characteristics.

She’s not for me. 11. Describe your delinquent outfit. (Would you wear something like Murphy’s jacket with the spikey red shoulder patch or have a trademark like Jasper’s goggles? Be creative, yet practical)

Something practical cause I’m boring.

Cargo pants. Ark-issued t-shirt. And a nice warm jacket. The jackets the characters wear on this show are pathetic - they barely look like they keep the wind out. And only Bellamy zips his up. smh vancouver is colder than it looks - all that humidity

As for a trademark thing?

I’d be the only arker with an “I <3 BELLAMY BLAKE” t shirt probably

12. Favorite type of mutant animal?

Bellamy’s three-headed doggo he hasn’t found yet

anyway i still have hope

13. What would your job be on the Ark?

I think I’d follow in Raven/Monty’s paths a bit and go into something mathematical like engineering but knowing myself I’d probably end up moving into politics later on. I have too many strong opinions to put up with the Ark system lol 14. Would you have willingly pumped Ontari’s heart if Abby asked?

Oh HELL no. I’d probably throw up all over it. I’m sorry Clarke. It’s not like that’s ACTUALLY how blood transfusions work anyway *intense side-eye at The 100 “science”* 15. If Lxa wasn’t Heda, but she’s still alive right? then who would make the best commander?

None of them. Bellamy x Clarke leadership duo. I don’t care about the Grounder commander system - it’s all kinda bs anyway.

None of the individual leaders on this show have done a good job. They’ve always functioned best as a team (which is why I want the Bellarke leader couple back) 16. If you were a grounder, then where would you live and who would be your mentor?

I mean I know she went all cray cray and they all died but probably Luna’s rig. I don’t want shit to do with the other clans, who are always warring with each other. And I think Nyko would be a pretty good mentor. I’d like to learn medicine. 17. How would you act if you ate the hallucinogenic nuts like Jasper and Monty?

Let’s be real, I’d probably start crying about how Bellamy and Clarke are in love and wHy cAn’T tHeY jUSt bAnG aLrEAdY ... and Finn would be real mad about it if he was in charge of picking my ass off the floor like in “Day Trip”

ha! I think it would be worth it 18. How would you have dealt with Charlotte’s crime? A more John Murphy approach or Bellamy Blake?

I mean ... I definitely wouldn’t lead a manhunt to kill a thirteen year old girl so I can say with a lot of confidence that I would NOT follow the Murphy route. Not so sure I’d just pardon her though. I think the delinquents needed some kind of prison system. Charlotte did murder a kid. Even though she was a child, there probably should have been some kind of consequence for that (though not killing her would be ideal) 19. Who should be the Chancellor, if anyone?

Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin co-leading motherfucking power couple

I will accept no less in canon. just let me fucking have this

20. Mount Weather had a lot of modern commodities. (example: Maya’s Ipod)What is the one thing you would snatch while there?

Oh, the iPod for sure. I literally don’t know if I could live without music. I’m listening to it ALL the time - I’m listening to it right now. RAIGN is playing *cries in Bellarke* 21. Do you think you’d have caught the virus spread through camp or would you have been immune like O.ctavia?

I’m a weak ass bitch so probably

and on the basis that I don’t like any of the people who ARE immune then maybe I don’t wanna be - what’s the point of surviving in a world where you’ve only got Finn Collins and O.ctavia Blake for company? 22. What would your grounder tattoos look like? Hairstyle? War paint?

I want whatever makeup L.exa’s got from Polisephora. You think she’d share some of that eyeliner? 23. Favorite quote?

“Shouldn’t there be more to life than just surviving?” - Clarke Griffin (2x14)

24. Can you forgive Murphy for his actions? How about Bellamy?

Yeah. I feel like we’re kind of past this point in the plot. They’ve both showed development and change and I think we’re definitely at a place in the story where both of them are intended as sympathetic characters to the audience. 25. If one of the characters was in the Hunger Games, who would have the best shot at winning? NOOOOO ALREADY SO MUCH DEATH NOOOO

I’m going to answer this as if all of our characters were thrown into the ring and I have to predict which one would win.

I wanna say Octavia because I think she’s independent and - er - determined enough to take out someone she knows if it came down to being the two of them to grant her own freedom and survival. Whereas, someone like Clarke or Bellamy or Kane would probably just nightlock it cause they’re self-sacrificial af.

But then I also think maybe Murphy ‘cause cockroaches never die (thank you Raven). 26. Least favorite ship? Favorite ship? NOT INCLUDING CL OR BC

Least favourite ship that people actually like? (aka. not something like Clarke and Jaha)

Probably B.echo (as a romantic relationship, not necessarily sexual). Hate to be basic and predictable but I think I would actually die if it were endgame.

FAVOURITE SHIP THAT ISN’T BELLARKE

how dare

If you asked me this a few months ago I would have told ya Niytavia but now that we’ve gotten more teasers about Octavia’s character in Season 5 I’m not sure if I want her anywhere near her (I like Niylah when she’s hot, but not cooked, ya feel?)

So maybe Jasper and Raven. Idk. I liked their friendship. Still bitter about Season 4.

I don’t really ship anything besides Bellarke that much. They’re an anomaly for me. 27. A song that should be included in the next season, like when Radioactive was? If there had to be another guest star like Shawn Mendes on the show, who would you want to make a cameo?

Tbh RAIGN goes hard af so anything by her would be pretty lit.

I mostly only associate songs I listen to with Bellarke when I’m applying them to the show so I’ve got like 100+ songs that I would love to use for them but its hard to think of a context where they would fit in with the tone of the show

And I want Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir to cameo. They don’t need to say anything - they just need to stare soulfully into each other’s eyes in the background.

... or makeout

Whatever. 28. What would you do if you were stuck in the bunker with Murphy for all that time?

Steal the wine. Have karaoke battles. Drunkenly cry because RaVEn iS sO sTrONg and sO gOoD (and he would cry with me - he WOULD).

Gossip about Bellamy’s butt.

The possibilities are endless, really.

29. Opinion on Emori? Roan?

I don’t really have a strong opinion on Emori. I feel like our knowledge of her is still so limited. She’s still barely interacted with anyone besides Murphy. But I’m guessing that may change in Season 5. I’d like to see her interact more with Bellamy, since they both have siblings (and Emori was the disgraced child too, just like O). Not many people can relate in that sense.

I really liked Roan but TO BE HONEST I found him more intriguing in Season 3 than in Season 4. He was literally up there in like my top four or five characters in Season 3 - I was so excited to learn more about him! In Season 4 he didn’t have much of a character arc, he was just kind of there to look moody and badass.

But honestly Roan is one of those characters that I don’t think was necessarily intended to be funny (as opposed to characters like Jasper and Wick) but his interactions with Clarke, Bellamy, and Echo offered up the occasional piece of comedy gold. He went too soon. Forever mourning the bromance that he and Bellamy could have had.

30. Would you want to be an extra that is killed off in a brutal way?

I wanna be Satisfied Girl.

Or Riley. Everyone loves that guy

so ... no? maybe? does it come with the job? 31. A character you’d like to learn more about and get flashbacks of?

CADOGAN. @metastation has ruined me; now I just want more!

Also any of the Eligius crew tbh 32. A character you’d bang?

Omg like all of them.

Bellamy and Raven are up there tho.

And highkey Bree could get it. She looks like she knows what she’s doing.

Echo’s hot but i dunno chains and choking aren’t really my thing

Anywayyyyy I’m way too late to the party so I won’t tag anyone but like if you feel like doing this GO AHEAD ! And you can tag me in your post if you want too

#the 100 #posts by moi

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sinrau · 4 years

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“So I ask you to do me a favor. Suburban women: will you please like me? Please. Please. I saved your damn neighborhood, OK? The other thing: I don’t have that much time to be that nice. You know, I can do it, but I gotta go quickly.” — President Donald J. Trump

Welcome to the Countdown Journal. There are 20 days until Election Day and then 78 until the Inauguration.

Let’s start with this: The president retweeted a story suggesting that Barack Obama had Seal Team 6 murdered. And it hardly made a ripple in the news cycle, three weeks before the election.

As Bill Kristol notes in this morning’s Bulwark, “Deviancy has been defined so far down that President Donald Trump’s retweet at mid-day Tuesday was barely noticed.”

After all, what’s new? And who cares?

So what if the president of the United States brought to prominence an insane conspiracy theory that his predecessor, Barack Obama, arranged for four Americans to be killed at Benghazi to cover up an even bigger intentional blood-sacrifice of Navy SEALs—which in turn covered up the fact that Osama Bin Laden was still alive. Since it was a body-double who was in fact killed in 2011.

Or at least I think that’s the story Trump was amplifying. You’ll forgive me if I got some twists in the plot wrong.

Anyway, what’s the big deal? It’s just Trump being Trump. The important things were happening elsewhere, in the back and forth between Supreme Court nominee Amy Coney Barrett and various senators on Capitol Hill. That’s what serious conservatives were focused on. That’s what’s going to make a difference. If crazy tweets are the price we pay for an originalist justice, these people tell us, then it’s well worth it.

Speaking of crazy. Olivia Nuzzi reports that America’s Mayor “was in Philadelphia sounding like Livia Soprano.”

After claiming that Democrats used the pandemic to take away gun rights, which did not happen, he mentioned the McCloskeys, the couple who wielded guns on the porch of their St. Louis mansion in front of Black Lives Matter demonstrators who were passing by. Giuliani claimed, falsely, that the protesters had yelled, “ ’We want to rape your wife! We want to rape your wife! We want this for reparations! This is number one for reparations! Biggest house here! Reparations!’” He added, “Nobody knows this, but at the time, their daughter was upstairs under the bed because she was afraid they’re going to come in and they’re talking about rape and they’re going to rape the wife and they’re going to find the daughter.”

None of that was true.

And now we learn that Trump has chosen Rudy and Jay Sekulow to run his post-election operation. What could possibly go wrong?

How is Trump’s final act playing with women? Not well, apparently.

A reporter from the Economist who watched the focus group:

Easy questions. On balance, Amy Coney Barrett is doing as well as could be expected in the kabuki-theater hearings over her nomination. Senators bloviate and ask questions she won’t answer. She doesn’t use notes. We know how it ends.

But the thing about easy questions is that they are easy.

Questions like: Can the president unilaterally move the date of the election? The easy answer is no, he can’t. That requires an act of congress. It’s the law.

ACB’s answer:

“Well, Senator, if that question ever came before me, I’d need to hear arguments from the litigants and read briefs and consult with my law clerks and talk to my colleagues and go through the opinion-writing process,” she said. “So, you know, if I give off the cuff answers, then I would be basically a legal pundit, and I don’t think we want judges to be legal pundits. I think we want judges to approach cases thoughtfully and with an open mind.”

Here’s another one.

I’m not not a lawyer, but shouldn’t a constitutional “originalist” believe that the constitution requires a peaceful transfer of power? And that the founders kind of thought it was important? When did that become “political controversy”?

And, then there was this question about voter intimidation. “Sen. Amy Klobuchar brought up efforts by President Trump to get his supporters to the polls to observe voting activity and asked Judge Amy Coney Barrett if under federal law it is illegal to intimidate voters at the polls. “

“I can’t characterize the facts in a hypothetical situation, and I can’t apply the law to a hypothetical set of facts.”

She continued: “I can only decide cases as they come to me litigated by parties on a full record after fully engaging precedent, talking to colleagues, writing an opinion, and so I can’t answer questions like that.”

Easy answer: it is against the law to intimidate voters, and as a judge I believe in upholding the law.

Why is this so hard? (And, yes, that is a rhetorical question.)

Well, how about that. Biden says that he is “not a fan of court packing.”

“I’ve already spoken on — I’m not a fan of court packing, but I don’t want to get off on that whole issue. I want to keep focused,” the 2020 Democratic presidential nominee said in an interview with Cincinnati’s WKRC.

We are now free to get back to Hillary’s emails.

Not with a bang or even a whimper. “‘Unmasking’ probe commissioned by Barr concludes without charges or any public report.”

Or, as Tim Miller puts it in today’s Bulwark, “Another ‘Deep State’ non-scandal goes down the memory hole.”

Guess we can close the file on that one.

William Barr has quietly ended the probe into the supposed “unmasking” scandal which was only opened as fan service for Republican elected officials and conservative media in the first place. (Trump had suggested to Maria Bartiromo that the perpetrators be given 50 year sentences on Fox.)

I suspect that Barr had hoped that maybe, with a little luck, his investigation might snare somebody in some tangential wrongdoing. Or be able to do some strategic leaking. Or at least keep the issue open until after the election.

Alas, the president’s lawyer daddy struck out. Again. Thus bringing to a close a matter that—in a saner world—would have been the stupidest fake scandal in decade.

Romney sort of goes there. I blame myself a bit for this, because the other day I highlighted Keith Olbermann’s deranged rant. But I was just taking a cheap shot, not attempting to weigh the comparative insanity of the two sides of our political divide.

Which brings me to Romney, who put this out yesterday:

My thoughts on the current state of our politics:

This is good, sort of. This is the strongest denunciation of Trump’s toxic crackpottery from any Republican. (It may be the only one?) But what caught the most attention was Romney’s suggestions that there was some rough moral equivalency between comments by the president of the United States and a washed up sports guy on a YouTube video.

Both were bad. One has the nuclear codes.

So, unfortunately, this falls into the category of:Meant Well, But Actually Missed the Point.

Mitt Romney doesn’t want that to be his epitaph.

A final off-ramp for the GOP establishment?

As I mentioned on yesterday’s podcast, Politico’s Tim Alberta suggests that the GOP might still break with Trump… after the election. If the election is a blowout, he writes, “and Trump is flinging wild accusations about wide-scale fraud and deep-state conspiracies to take him down, Republicans will be forced to choose a side.

“They will either stand with a battered soon-to-be-former president whose days in office are numbered whether he likes it or not, or they will stand with the democratic norms that have guided the nation for 244 years.”

I suspect that he’s at least partly right. Some members of the GOP Old Guard might be willing to tell Trump to go. But Ted Cruz? Josh Hawley? Marco Rubio? Nikki Haley? Lindsey Graham? Forget about it.

Instead, backing Trump is more likely to become the new litmus test of tribal loyalty.

Foxconn turns out to be a massive boondoggle. Who knew?

Oh wait.

Something for the bedwetters. We’ve seen way too much hope and optimism lately, so I wanted to pass on this piece from Thomas Edsall, who warns that Biden is not yet out of the woods.

Here are some of the things causing anxiety among Democratic partisans, particularly political professionals.

One way to measure voter enthusiasm is to compare voter registration trends for each party. A Democratic strategist who closely follows the data on a day-to-day basis wrote in a privately circulated newsletter:

Since last week, the share of white non-college over 30 registrations in the battleground states has increased by 10 points compared to September 2016, and the Democratic margin dropped 10 points to just 6 points. And there are serious signs of political engagement by white non-college voters who had not cast ballots in previous elections.

But, but, but… Biden is now leading in Florida, Pennsylvania, and Arizona and the Economist Forecast gives him a 91 percent chance of winning the election. The FiveThirty Forecast has Biden at 87 percent.

The RealClearPolitics average now puts Biden’s lead at 10 points.

There are 20 days to go.

Quick Hits

Ok, sorry about the downer item above. As an antidote, make sure you read this piece by Mona Charen in today’s Bulwark.

We devote a lot of mental energy to things that are going wrong or could go wrong. It’s human nature. As the sociobiologists teach us, our ancestors were not the ones who heard a rustling in the grass and figured, “Eh, it’s probably nothing.” We are descended from the ones who said “ What the hell was that? Could be a cobra. Better run the other way.” Vigilance is our default mode.

But seven months after the start of this plague, we shouldn’t lose sight of the things that went more right than we expected for two reasons: 1) gratitude is good for the spirit and the soul, and 2) we must guard against catastrophizing.

Nicholas Grossman in today’s Bulwark:

Leaders, especially in law enforcement positions, can counter the president’s effort to stir up voter intimidation by making it clear they’ll prosecute election-related crimes, as Nevada Attorney General Aaron D. Ford did after the debate.

Police should prepare for the possibility of armed intimidation at polling places. And concerned citizens should prepare for the unlikely, but not impossible, scenario in which some police are overwhelmed — or choose to look the other way — by being ready to calmly, peacefully escort any intimidated voters into polling places.

Georgetown Law’s Institute for Constitutional Advocacy and Protection recommends documenting what you see—if uniformed militia show up, photograph or take note of any insignias—and offers fact sheets on the relevant laws in 50 states, which you can find here.

Cheap Shots

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Deep Thoughts

Josh Kraushaar in the National Journal:

Republicans are now bracing for a punishing Election Night, resigned to losing the presidency, alarmed that Democrats will pad their House majority, and growing increasingly concerned that Chuck Schumer will be the next Senate majority leader. Most are hoping for a mere blue-wave election, rather than a potential tsunami that would wipe out some GOP members of Congress in reliably red states and districts. “He’s losing older Republicans over COVID,” said one alarmed senior Republican strategist. “They take their health seriously, and they see the nonsense out of the White House and it’s off-putting.”

So today’s column is something of a scorecard that will indicate just how bad the Election Night environment will be for Republicans. These are all races that, in normal times, should be fairly safe seats for the Republican Party. But they’re shaping up to be uncomfortably close. If Democrats win even one of these four races, it’s a sign of a big blue political wipeout.

A Tsunami of Trumpian Crazy

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sucaritra · 7 years

Text

Bāṛi - Chapter 12

Word Count: 1671

Warnings: language, anxiety, Negan

Summary: reader makes a new friend

A/N: comments are greatly appreciated!

Masterlist

“Who's that?”

“You've not seen Mason before?”

You narrow your eyes and try to recall if you’d come across the man who just entered the games room with Simon, exuding authority and power on par with Negan and Simon. You've been at the Sanctuary long enough now to know everyone’s faces, if not their names, and Mason’s was definitely a face you haven't come across.

“Nope. Who is he? Looks important.”

You turn your attention back to Sam as she takes a swig of something that was most definitely homebrewed, given the smell. You wrinkle your nose in disgust when she offers you a sip, causing her to chuckle at your actions.

“He's one of Negan’s top guys, probably ranks after Simon.”

“How come I’ve never seen him?”

“I think he's been taking charge of the outposts. You probably just missed him when you got here. No idea why he's back now though.”

“Huh.”

“You know, he hasn't actually been here that long, compared to everyone else. Got here just a few months before you.”

This brought your attention back to Mason. How does one rise to the top so quickly? You voiced your wonder to Sam, who didn't disappoint.

“Well, he's just an all around good guy. Does whatever he's told, doesn't cause any problems.”

“You can say that about a lot of the Saviors though.”

“True, but no one shed blood they way he did. I don't know exactly what happened, but the gist of it is that there was an incident on the drive back from a pickup. Negan was there, I think they were attacked. Well, anyway, Mason basically took a bullet for Negan, and you know how Negan loves a good soldier. From then on, Mason was given more responsibility and I guess Negan trusts him since he's part of the inner circle.”

“Wow.”

Looking back at Mason, you see he's already looking your way. All it took was a wink from him before you quickly averted your gaze away from him, cheeks flaming in embarrassment at being caught looking.

You had the pleasure of meeting Mason up close and personal the next morning when you smacked into him just as you reached the top floor in your rush to not be late. With reflexes quick as lightning, he grabbed hold of your arms so you didn't take a potentially lethal tumble down the flights of stairs.

Would you ever go a day without embarrassing the shit out of yourself?

Smiling apologetically, you squeak out an apology and thank you, though he laughs it off.

“Don't you worry about it honey, it’s forgiven since it looks as though you’re runnin’ late for work?”

“I am, but that’s no excuse for not watching where I was going, again, I’m sorry.”

And you really were. If it were anyone else, you probably would have winded them from the force of your little collision, but Mason was no ordinary man. If you had no idea about Negan, it would have been very easy to believe Mason was the one running the show. He definitely looked the part with his strong build, self-confidence oozing out of every pore and his dominant personality. Though he looked to be in his late thirties/early forties, it certainly didn't take away from his good looks as his striking green eyes and mousy brown hair gave him a certain charm.

“No more of that, it’s forgiven and forgotten!” The laugh lines around his mouth and creases in the corner of his eyes were so infectious that you found yourself smiling along with him. Thinking that was the end of it, you slowly edge around him to continue your way towards the office, only to be stopped by a gentle hand on your arm.

“Listen, before you dash off, I gotta say somethin’. I heard about what happened with that scumbag Roy.”

You tense up immediately, all traces of the smile gone from your face as you recall your encounter with him and the subsequent punishment, thanks to your tattling. Though his warm smile does help to ease your guilt, if only slightly.

“I just wanted to let you know that he’ll be out of the infirmary in the next couple of days, but you have nothing to worry about. We’re gonna make sure he can't get near anyone again and try and pull another stunt like that. Hell, even if I gotta shadow him 24/7, then that's what I’m gonna do.” Your chest warms at his cheeky smile and wink sent your way, causing you to roll your eyes and huff out a laugh.

“Thank you, I appreciate that but as long as I don’t have to see him again, then I’m sweet.”

“That you are, honey.”

Does the Sanctuary have a siren call drawing all these hot as shit men to it that you don't know about?!

One at a time Maria. If James turns out to be a dud then you can have a go at sinking your claws into this hunk.

Doing your best to appear cool, you quickly bid goodbye before making your escape to the office. Although, you wouldn't be you if you didn't bump your shoulder into the door to the hallway during your escape, earning a hearty chuckle from Captain Green-Eyes.

The buzz of activity seems to never end at the Sanctuary and the first chills of the changing seasons is felt in every corner. Thanks to your tardiness, Negan sent you out into the chaos to seek out the Savior team leaders and hand out rotas for their shifts. Negan has had to move quite a few Saviors to outposts just to make room for all the new survivors that keep turning up on an almost weekly basis, causing a shake up of the Savior's different roles. Saviors with more menial jobs are suddenly finding themselves guarding the weapons stash or patrolling alongside the more trusted Saviors.

All in all, it just meant more paperwork for you.

Venturing outside to try and find Arat to hand over her papers, you pull your jacket closer to your body in a vain attempt to retain some heat. The slight nudge against your rib comforted you as you felt your knife in your inside pocket. After the incident with Roy, Negan let you hold on to it when you tried to hand it back after the Alexandria trip, saying you can keep it as long as you continue being a “good girl”. Pfft. Smug git.

You watch as a couple of trucks pile in through the gates and various Saviors emerge and immediately begin to unload the supplies. Catching sight of James, you quickly make your way over. It feels like you never see him anymore, which is a damn shame since you wouldn't mind looking at nothing but him for the rest of your, probably short, life.

His face lights up as soon as he spots you, grinning from ear to ear as he holds out his arms to you. You happily oblige, wrapping your arms around him as he playfully lifts you off the ground. He catches you by surprise when you feel him place a light kiss to the side of your head before placing you back on your feet.

Trying not to let the red takeover your face, you look up at him and lightly punch his arm.

“Where've you been?! I feel like I never see you anymore.” Your bottom lip juts out slightly, genuinely disappointed at how little time you've spent together. James was probably the first real friend you'd made at the Sanctuary, inadvertently making him your source of comfort. And after the events of the last week, you could do with a bit of comfort, and just simply forgetting about all the bad that had taken place.

“I know, I know. It’s only temporary though! Once we’re good for winter, I’ll be stationed back at the Sanctuary like I used to be. Then you won't be able to wait to get rid of me.”

Just as you were about to reply, you caught sight of Arat talking to Mason by the front gates, before starting to walk around the building, heading towards the gardens.

“Oh! I have to go! I've got something for Arat.” you flash James the papers in your hands, “Can we meet up later?”

“I’ll do you one better. I just need ten minutes to help with unloading and then you wanna get lunch?”

You beamed at him before nodding your okay and dashing off after Arat. You learned early on that Arat was a woman of few words, or, at least, she was with you, which you were always grateful for as it meant you didn't have to attempt any awkward small talk.

Since you didn't have long to wait, you decided to wait for James by the front entrance, plopping down on one of the many picnic tables scattered about. Mason soon joined you, striking up a conversation so easily with you that you almost forgot how terrible you are when it comes to talking with other people.

You found yourself enjoying being in his company, and also completely agreeing with Sam’s description of him, “he’s just a good guy.” And he truly was. In the short ten minutes you were talking, Mason managed to get out of you how you were feeling slightly guilty about how things went down with Roy, even though you knew you shouldn't. You were almost glowing in self-assurance after his little speech about how you did the right thing and how, through your actions, Roy won't be able to try anything with any woman here anymore. You were almost sad to cut you talk short; it was doing wonders for your self-esteem.

Walking side by side with James to the canteen, you couldn't help but grin as he oh-so-casually took hold of your hand, gripping it tight and pulling you close as you made your way through the Sanctuary.

tagging: @neganisking @backseat-negan

#negan #negan x reader #negan x you #negan fanfiction #twd fanfiction #jdm #jdm fanfiction #jeffrey dean morgan

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isaacscrawford · 6 years

Text

Dr. Nuance versus Crusaders of the Lost Art

By, SAURABH JHA MD

The two writers who got inside my head were polar opposites. Christopher Hitchens was an atheist, who mocked religion incessantly, and spared few sacred cows – he went after both Mother Teresa and Bill Clinton, though for patently opposite reasons. G.K. Chesterton, the sardonic, plump Englishman, went after heretics. Hitchens destroyed orthodoxy. Chesterton mocked radicals. Hitchens once quipped that “what can be asserted without evidence can be dismissed without evidence.” Chesterton quipped that the rebel, the infinite skeptic, was in fact a decerebrate orthodox. If both were on Twitter they’d be trolling each other, non-stop. Though fighting on opposite sides, they had a commonality – they punished sloppy thinking, one with prose and the other with wit.

I’ve long wondered who would be healthcare’s Hitchens and Chesterton. Physician writers have generally been disappointments, because they veer, almost uncontrollably, towards tedious self-flagellation, ever keen to internalize medicine’s original sin – an imperfect science, a stubborn art. Unlike prophets of yore who risked harm in expressing their views, medicine’s prophets moralize from the comfort of their six-figure salaries. “We do too much”, they say, even as they’re grass fed by the excess they so disdain – count me in this army of hypocrites.

For many years healthcare watchers have been fed a steady stream of Disneyland economics, trite platitudes, which have simplified the complexities of healthcare – cheesecake factories and checklists, value not volume, “we must do things for patients, not to patients” (needless to say that often to do things for patients you must do things to patients), amongst others. Whatever purpose platitudes are supposed to serve, they bring all critical thinking to a jerky end. I recall several talks during the passage of the Affordable Care Act in which the speaker would romp to a standing ovation for stating blithely – “let’s pay doctors for doing the right thing”, with me still muttering “how?”

In the midst of getting carpet bombed by bromides I was forwarded a piece by Dr. Lisa Rosenbaum. I almost didn’t read the piece – I rarely read perspectives, other than mine. Before reading perspectives, I check their provenance. A young cardiologist writing in the NEJM – I was convinced this was another writer enthralled with Rawls distributive justice – another tedious medical moralizer. I was wrong.

In the piece Rosenbaum explored the complexities of defining quality and value, and difficulty in paying for performance. This was long before it became fashionable to question the value of measuring value. I could believe what was written, but I couldn’t believe that it was written, even less so that it was published. To mix a metaphor, it seemed that I wasn’t alone in the Potemkin village who saw that the emperor had no clothes.

Rosenbaum is neither Chesterton nor Hitchens, but in a space crowded with piety her writings are a breath of fresh air, and induce an uncommon, though not an unsurprising, amount of ire, such as her trilogy on physician-industry relationship. To make the case that money corrupts is easy and requires little courage, particularly in the age when disclosing financial conflict of interest is like brushing your teeth. To make the contrarian case that financial ties with industry lead to net benefits is dicey. But it is precisely because it is dicey that it extracts more linguistic muscle, more thought, more logic, and more courage. Rosenbaum delivered, and if her detractors prevailed, it was only by a whisker, and not for the lack of her prose.

Both Hitchens and Chesterton might have patted Rosenbaum for taking the unpopular side. Hitchens might have been happy that a sacred cow, such as our obsession with financial ties, went unspared, and Chesterton that the unfree radicals were gently mocked. I, for one, was just pleased watching the riot unfold on social media.

It is Rosenbaum’s most recent piece which has drawn the most ire, in which she asks whether the less-is-more movement has, in its missionary zeal, oversimplified overuse in its crusade against too much medicine. I should, at this conjecture, disclose that I’m a less-is-more apostle – I’d like to think that I’m more of a John the Baptist – I want others to run with it. Diagnostic and therapeutic, particularly diagnostic, incontinence offends me. I believe the role of medicine is to heal the sick, not hound the well.

One cause of angst was the use of “crusade” in the title of her piece. Bush Jr. realized that “crusade” isn’t a word which should be used lightly. “Crusade” relegates the less-is-more movement from science to religion, and is admittedly an unfortunate choice. But apt. Very apt. I invite you to watch this movie on the state of American healthcare, called “Escape Fire” – the analogy here is with a fireman who burnt a fire to stop a forest fire. The movie is sensational but tedious. I hoped Dirty Harry would walk in any moment and save me from soporification. I’m sorry – but if you believe healthcare reform is an “escape fire,” then you shouldn’t be offended by “crusade.”

Elsewhere, medical errors have been compared to a jumbo jet crashing every day, even to urban genocide. I struggle to understand how someone can remain inert by these hyperbolic, and frankly absurd, analogies yet be offended by Rosenbaum’s allusion to the holy war. What am I missing?

Rosenbaum’s strength is her weakness – her prose, which is so lucid that you know exactly what she’s saying, unlike that of many medical writers who use such barbaric prose that their thoughts remain stuck in their ampulla, means that the reader, drawn to arguing with the author, forgets that their intemperance is a testament to her skill. The job of a writer isn’t to tell you how to think but what to think about. Rosenbaum has achieved this marvelously.

A perspective isn’t a meta-analysis, it isn’t a quantitative truth, rather it is supposed to encourage the reader to examine the conventional wisdom, no matter how settled the truth appears. Thus, the charge that Rosenbaum’s piece should have been better peer reviewed misses the point – peer review is merely micro-group think. A good essayist shouldn’t just survive peer review but actively dodge it, if she wishes to challenge group think. A good essayist must take a stand, and Rosenbaum did, admirably.

For an essayist it is the post publication review which is important, and no better compliment to Rosenbaum could have been paid than by veteran journalist and a cardiology maven, who knows more about cardiology than cardiologists, Larry Husten, who tore into some of her arguments. Husten is a fine writer, too, and has an eye for controversy. It seems Rosenbaum got inside Husten’s head in the same way Hitchens once got inside my head – an applause to Rosenbaum for getting inside Husten’s head, and to Husten for graciously allowing her to get inside his head – it takes two to a dialectic. This is the way it should be.

I take one exception to Husten’s critique – in which he says Rosenbaum is an apologist for the status quo, a medical conservative. It is easy demonizing a healthcare system which has gained international disrepute – though oddly, doctors still queue outside the American embassies in New Delhi and Beirut. U.S. healthcare is so imminently disagreeable that pointing its flaws isn’t rocket science. What’s more challenging is understanding how we got here, what drives waste, and what will be forfeited if we curbed waste.

These inconvenient questions are repeatedly dodged by our thought leaders, but Rosenbaum refuses to ignore them – whether this is her strategy for conserving the status quo or changing it is beside the point – trade-offs exist. If Rosenbaum is supporting the status quo she is certainly not taking the path of least resistance. My guess is that Rosenbaum was exposed to Shakespeare very early on and literally read every single word in every single play, and has an uncommon, and rather unshakeable, appreciation of human complexity. Regardless, the point is that Rosenbaum didn’t invent trade-offs in healthcare – they exist despite her, not because of her.

Trade-offs mean you must choose. For some the choice between overuse and underuse is a false one. It is false if one considers underuse as a resource and access issue, and overuse as an abundance issue. It is unclear whether overuse creates an opportunity cost leading to underuse – the logical answer is that it does, and it certainly will in budget-constrained systems, though the effect in the U.S. is less clear, because overuse finances some of healthcare, it finances many services, including the less profitable ones.

Anyway, this is not the point I’m belaboring. Rather, I’m talking about trade-offs between more use (overuse) and less use in areas of abundance. How much is the trade-off? It depends. In some situations, such as incidentally detected thyroid nodule, the harms of overdiagnosis/ overtreatment overwhelm the miniscule gains so much so that trade-offs aren’t even worth exploring. In others, such as the new definition of hypertension and statins for primary prevention, there is a real trade-off between extending longevity in many, and conscripting many, many, more to the ranks of disease. I believe we’re overstretching – YMMV, and that’s fine, but we can at least agree on the trade-off.

Another example is imaging. In the diagnostic pursuit of potentially fatal conditions, particularly in low pre-test probability situations, such as pulmonary embolism, ischemic bowel, aortic dissection and acute coronary syndrome, there is a trade-off between false negatives – missed cases – and both the frequency of imaging, and the number of false positives. This trade-off is a fact of life, the basis of signal theory. Doctors overtest because of a culture of safety, a culture accentuated by reports from the Institute of Medicine that diagnostic errors are a plague, and defensive medicine, and societal expectations and not least because, as Rosenbaum candidly admits, “possibility is not the same as probability, but when you’re bearing the weight of another person’s life, the distinction often feels meaningless.”

Which is to say that physician decision making has become like Pascal’s wager – Pascal said that he’d rather believe in God than not, because if there was even the slightest possibility God existed, it was better to err towards believing in God, and thus enjoying heaven, than not believing in God. To borrow the language of option traders – there’s little downside to believing in God. For physicians, the possibility of a catastrophic miss looms large in their decision making. This is most evident in emergency medicine where physicians must decide whether their patient has a life-threatening condition based on imperfect information. Once you think Pascal’s wager – possibility and plausibility always trump probability, and the art of medicine, which is essentially probabilistic, is killed.

The emergency room, depending on your perspective, is either the swamp of waste or the epitome of appropriateness. Appropriateness is difficult to define, ex ante. Waste is a typical Tragedy of Commons – many physicians believes it is the other physician at fault. Emergency physicians blame cardiologists for clogging the outflow pipeline in to the hospital by doing too many stents for stable angina, cardiologists blame emergency physicians for over reacting to chest pain and weakly positive troponins, and radiologists – well we blame everyone but ourselves and our incontinent hedging.

To reduce waste, you must define appropriateness and what is appropriate depends on what you wish to achieve. Let me give you an example. In my days, when life was easier, we would literally ram a nasogastric tube down a patient’s throat, passed the squamocolumnar junction, until it reached the stomach – we were mostly, 98/100, times successful, but occasionally the tube would end up in the patient’s lung. This is now considered a “never event.” To prevent this “never event”, radiographs are taken as the tube is gingerly passed through the esophagus – multiple radiographs are taken until tube reaches the stomach. Is this waste? Depends if you think it is appropriate – regardless, the point is that you need lots of imaging to prevent a “never event”, to practice medicine like Pascal’s wager. Call this waste, call it whatever the hell you want – but there’s a trade-off.

I’ve heard a safety officer say – “we have too much waste and too many missed cases” – without conceding they’re part of the same problem. It’s like wanting a bath without getting wet. You can’t. The obvious retort is that it’s not about overuse or underuse, but an ephemeral “right care” – but that’s a cop out which pretends that trade-offs don’t exist, which isn’t true because as Rosenbaum diplomatically puts it, “it’s not clear that we have the evidence-based knowledge to reduce waste safely.”

I’d have gone a step further and said – let’s reduce waste, let’s make diagnosis more specific, less sensitive, let’s make clinical medicine an art again, and be forthright that it’ll come at the expense of missing a few catastrophic cases. Who is on board? Anyone?

It is quite likely that Rosenbaum and I aren’t equally perturbed by waste, I’m probably more perturbed than her. But we don’t need to agree precisely on how much waste is too much. All we need to agree on are the trade-offs. Because if we can agree on what the trade-offs are, we can at least agree on the terms and conditions of the fighting waste. I’ve seen very little in the less-is-more literature which explicitly acknowledges trade-offs, which concedes that the fight against overuse will come at a cost, but that cost is worth it. If we don’t acknowledge the trade-off we’re back to square one.

The ire against Rosenbaum is unusual. I’ve seldom seen anything like it. It’s as if people read her work and ask, “why aren’t you with us?” It reminds me of Bush Jr’s “you’re either with us or the terrorists.” Rosenbaum has been called “dumb” and “naïve.” Was Atul Gawande “dumb” for comparing healthcare to cheesecake factories, for selling checklists as our panacea? Were the creators of meaningful use “naïve”? Was the crew who brought you “in healthcare jumbo jets crash daily” dumb? If not, why such vitriol against one of the most courageous healthcare writers of our time, who has singularly brought back nuance in healthcare discussions?

Rosenbaum has not replied to a single Tweet belittling her. Brave lads – try this next time – try coming on Twitter several times a day, seeing your timeline flooded with sarcastic and condescending retorts from important people, and half-wits, and then bite your tongue and not retort. I don’t know how many lads will have the strength to restrain themselves – I certainly won’t.

I’m all for a colorful savanna. One of my favorite Tweeps is, in fact, a leading critic of Rosenbaum – Vinay Prasad, another courageous physician, with gruff, who can take on a movement, my natural ally in less-is-more. I’ve often wondered who is braver, Rosenbaum or Prasad. Then I realized that the question is moot. Because the healthcare savanna needs them both.

Meanwhile, can we please bring back the lost art of medicine?

Thank you.

About the Author:

Saurabh Jha is a radiologist and contributing editor to Healthcare Blog. He can be reached @RogueRad

Article source:The Health Care Blog

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