Yea, I think it went off the rails as soon as broad generalisations were used as to predict the motives of the sex worker. People go into sex work for many different reasons, and that is an important thing to know when piecing together the advice given.

I think a huge misstep of the original argument is “career politician bad”. Biden is seen as a one man “dynasty” because he has ~50 years of experience. Obama and Clinton are only seen as dynasties because they had active First Ladies so there’s a “power couple” image.

I think it’s fair to say there are political dynasties- the Kennedy’s, the Bushes- and it makes sense that they will tend to happen naturally. If my dad was president of the United States, at the age of 12 I’d have a much better understanding of the Washington Political Machine than most people.

Usually when we think of “Outsider” candidates, we think of people who have 0 government experience who enter the arena. Notice that Trump isn’t mentioned in the post. Ofc Trump was as embedded in the Washington establishment as much as anyone else when he ran in 2016, having ran for president previously and using the ol’ “wine and dine” method generously to help him get a leg up in business.

I personally don’t think it’s a bad thing to have a ton of experience in getting a lot of people to do one thing together- oddly enough that’s an INCREDIBLY HARD THING TO DO. We need all sorts of people in politics in order to represent the people accurately. The Tim Walz’s and AOC’s in congress brought so much to the table- they know what it’s like to grow up as the everyday American. The Biden’s and the Pelosi’s have been removed from that world for so long it’s understandable they might not have the most accurate picture of modern American life, but they do have the deep understanding for how to get things done. In Biden’s single term, he has outpaced most presidents in getting legislation passed. I remember being optimistic in 2020 hoping Biden would be a modern LBJ, and by gum I think ol’ Joe did it.

If you do this before work, we call it “The Sandman’s Gamble”

“I will have you know I’m a self made man, just like my father and his father before him”

And let him have that cake? No way- she should have her cake and eat it too.

I looked it up and a block in Chicago (where I live) is between 100 to 600 meters.

Chicago and New York have similar walkability, at least in my experience.

Nearest Grocery Store is 1.2 km (0.8miles) away from me, I usually take my bike to go shopping

Nearest park is like… 50 feet from me (15meters) but I happen to live right next to a park.

Nearest cornerstore is 300 meters

Nearest train station is 600 meters

Nearest library is 800 meters

To add some more,

Nearest bar is 400 meters away

I’m a musician, within 1km of me there are 4 open mics I can go to

Nearest theater is the Music Box which is 1.2 km away

Nearest baseball stadium is 1 km away

God I love Chicago

I believe in TRADITIONAL FAMILY VALUES like HARD WORK through HUNTING and GATHERING and COMMUNAL LIVING and DYING AT THE AGE OF 5 and BEING AFRAID OF FIRE and YEETING YOUR KIDS INTO THE FOREST WHEN THEY BECOME ADULTS.

So I dealt with this a shit ton in my 20s, and have only recently found an effective way to reframe my mindset.

First, my friend introduced me to parts theory. It’s a practice that’s underscored by “nonessentialism” for my philosophy friends here (i.e. there is no single you, you are made up of many, many identities that come together). The exercise I would recommend you do is to name the different parts of you. Hell, to make it fun, pretend they are tarot cards or something. For instance my negative feelings came from a part of me I now call “the sleezy politician” who manipulates people into doing what he wants. I also took note of the origin story of this character- I had very unstable family dynamics that had a lot of backroom conversations, and also I had a traumatic friend group explosion in highschool that taught me I need to control others through charm to survive.

I also have “the musician”, “the teacher”, “the council”, “the romantic”, “the child”… I listed 34 and I could probably keep going. Recognize each one of these people is trying to take control of the wheel of your life, and you can choose who you give it too.

I also just listened to Kevin Hines on the Man Enough Podcast . The man enough podcast is a podcast that deals with men’s issues through a feminist lense- I see it as the antidote to the manosphere. That said, I don’t think you need to be a dude to take something from this. TW: it has a lot to do with suicide, but it is very uplifting when it comes to self love. The exercise I took away from it is to note the thoughts repeating in my head of who I tell myself I am, and then say the opposite. I am responsible. I am kind. I am genuine. I am honest. I am enough.

Finally I had a thought yesterday- I need to love myself before I love others. If I’m not comfortable in my own skin, how can I be comfortable with someone else? My friend who just got married said he knew she was the one when “the relaxed feeling I have when I’m alone at home is the same when I’m with her at home. I feel at home.” That’s when I realized I need to be at home with myself.

But don’t just love yourself- have a crush on yourself. Idk about you, but when I’m absolutely crushing on someone I’m seeing, I become like a bird of paradise. I keep my place clean. I exercise. I eat right. I take them out to dance and see the world. I do everything I can to be my best self for this person. So why not do that for me?

I hope some of this can help friend. You aren’t just wanted here, you are needed here, and for a reason.

I think this comment wasn’t supposed to be an argument for the existence of Israel, but rather directed at the initial premise. They are challenging the assumption that support for the Israeli state and support for the conflict in Gaza are one in the same.

I mean say what ya want but running with friends is great.

At least you thought it was.

Sam was just next to you a second ago, and then all of a sudden his heavy breathing went silent. You want to call out but the sound of gunfire silences you. You serpentine through the woods to try and avoid the bullets, but one grazes your shoulder. You keep sprinting as you hear the gun reloading. You come to a ravine as the trees get thicker. This is your chance to lose him. You zag along the stream for 50 feet and then run up to the wooded forest. You keep moving, never letting up. He who hesitates is dead.

In the clearing you find a shed- perhaps you can find something to hide under. You open the doors and you step back in horror. Sam was separated into 3 distinct pieces. Your heart drops as you see your friend, your brother in arms from the 22 battalion, lifeless in front of you. You go to leave the shed immediately, but when you go to open the door, it’s locked.

He found you.

You look to the shadows quickly to see where he is, but the shed is empty. You go back to the door but again, it won’t budge. As you go to the windows, you begin to smell gasoline seeping in under the floorboards, and then the sound of a match strike.

Within seconds the shed was ablaze. You begin to slam your boddy against the door- it needs to open. It must open. It starts to become hard to breathe, but you can’t stop. The flames are beginning to lick your clothes as you feel the burns developing on your body. You keep rushing the door until finally you hear the wood splinter. Your burned body breaks through the door, but you fall immediately to the ground. While the fresh cool air comes as a relief to the lungs, the bark, twigs, leaves and dirt tear through your fragile skin. You yell in pain as you roll over to see the shed collapse from its own weight as the flames consumed the rest of it.

There was no doubt now that Sam was dead.

But that thought quickly broke as you felt the heal of a boot come down on your chest. You look up into the barel of a shotgun, and behind it is who you feared the most. The one your father told you about every night in his ghost stories when you were a child. You thought he was just a myth, but there he was.

Shia LaBeouf

Also usually when I run with my sister I play music and we have a traveling dance party, it’s great!

Honestly, that’s the way to do it. Just dress right, but push through. It doesn’t matter if it’s cloudy, rainy, snowing, hailing- you RUN. You know you can’t stop. You have to find a way out. You pull out your phone to turn on the flashlight, but just as you get the flash to turn on, the At&t logo came up and your phone died. But in the flash you could swear you saw a barn in the distance, or at least something metallic. You keep moving towards it until you hear a car pull up. You didn’t realize there was a road so close by, but as the headlights scan across the trees, you see what you thought was a Barn.

The cold lifeless eyes of Sam gazed past you as you are forced to see what remained of him. He had bled out from the throat, and it was clear that an animal didn’t do this because the cut was clean and the knife used was pinning him into the tree. You shriek as the your friend who you knew since a child lay before you, but immediately find cover when you hear the car door slam shut. The light from the headlights stayed on as blades of light streamed past you into the forest beyond. You could hide in the shadows, but you don’t know if they saw you, so you decided to stay put while you hear footsteps stumble through the forest. The leaves are crunching around, but not in any particular direction so you might have a chance. You press yourself closely to the tree when you hear the footsteps stop. Any hope you had of hiding was done and you knew it. It’s time. Run.

You bolt out from the tree and run to the car that was still running. You hear an animalistic roar come from the thing that found you. You had a head start, and you are making the most of it. “Push push push” you tell yourself. You were a runner since a child and this is what you prepared for. You sprint to the car to find it’s a 1990s Ford pickup truck. There’s rust on the hood but the door is open. You get inside and close the door. The keys were left in the ignition so you slam reverse, turn around, and speed down the road.

You are driving as fast as you can as you hear the gravel popping and flying as you go. You look down at the fuel gauge and see that you are almost empty. You panic. Where are you going? You don’t know, you just know you are going AWAY. Your heart suddenly lifts as you see a freeway sign ahead. You head for it, when suddenly the rear window smashes open. In your panic you hit the gas more, but the road curved. You swerve to catch the turn but you over steer. You slam on the break but it’s too late. You see a tree flash in your headlights just as you smashed into it. Your head hits the steering wheel and you blackout for a moment, coming back dazed and confused, but you feel a hand at your throat. He had played the long game. He set the trap, and you took the bait. He waited for you every step of the way, and even when you pulled off the impossible, he still had you. Through the mashed window, the bloodied hand pulls you back out into the darkness. You finally get a good look. You heard the stories but you never wanted to believe them, but here he was, flesh and blood taking you to your death. Here he was.

Shia LaBeouf.

So basically you get to choose the kind of day you have, no matter the weather.

This reminds me of how when I was young, my dad would get us an extra order of desert when mom left to use the restroom. It was the best dad move. Ofc I was an anxiety case while trying to eat the ice cream before mom got back, it was that intense anxiety where it felt something was following you. Do you know? No. All you know is that every fiber in your being told you you needed get out of that old warehouse as soon as possible. You keep running, avoiding roots and rocks. You keep second guessing yourself. Where we alone? You look to see if Sam followed you but he’s nowhere to be seen. You swear you two looked at eachother with the same chill just moments ago. You call out to him, but you hear nothing. You slow down and turn around but the sun has already set and the trees shroud any sense of direction. You call out again, but regret it instantly.

The weight of something big is coming.

You pick a direction and go in an all out sprint. You don’t know where you are going but know whatever has been tracking you is behind you. You are now shrieking call for Sam but he is long gone. The ground below you shifts as you come to a steep decline. You stumble but catch yourself, only to find the moss on the ground won’t hold you. You slip and roll into a ravine, and as you fall your ankle hits a rock. You don’t know if it’s broken but at this point you know that whatever is behind you is worse than the pain of each step. You are limping but moving, but now you are losing ground. The bushes burst open behind you and in the shock you fall back down, firmly breaking the leg you tried so hard to ignore. You turn over while you writhe in pain to see what remained of Sam being held by what couldn’t be a man but couldn’t be a beast. He comes forward smelling the air furiously. You didn’t want to believe it, but Sam was taken and soon you will be too. In your final moments, a face finally comes 2 inches from yours.

You didn’t want to believe things could go south so fast. You didn’t want to believe Sam was dead. You didn’t want to believe you never would sleep in your bed or eat rainbow Sherbet again. You didn’t want to believe your eyes when you saw him-

Shia LaBeouf.

Anyway when mom came back dad would always take the heat for us, but he’s a funny guy and mom couldn’t stay mad for long.

Do you live in the American Frontier of 1840? Gonna need to build that cabin fast if you plan on making it through winter.

That was very Mr. Rodgers of you.

RIP my bank account

Musicians curse.

I’m a multi-instrumentalist and I now have 3 guitars, a bass, a banjo, two ukuleles, a sousaphone, trombone, trumpet, soprano trombone, bugle, clarinet, tenor sax, Roland keyboard, melodica, cajone, stylophone, otamatone, ocarina, concertina, and a recorder. My goal is 50 instruments by the time I’m 50.

I have a problem.

I worked at a preppy catholic school in Chicago. Every year they had a Gala with an auction where people would throw around $60k like it was nothing. Afterwards all the parents of students I taught were plastered and grinding on each other on the dancefloor, and then I was invited to a sex party in the hotel they stayed at. Being 20 years younger than these folks, I was really weirded out.

Catholics go hard.

I’ve had good and bad interactions with them, so I just think “hey they are flawed (hopefully) human beings that have good days and bad days”. Chances are if I treat them (or anyone) kindly, the interaction will be positive.

My goal online is to try and be a wholesome user, although that doesn’t always happen. I usually delete my comments when I don’t like how I acted with someone else as I want to remind myself to take a kinder approach to Lemmy. There’s enough toxicity online.

I think “would Mr. Rodgers approve?”

Actually the little button sends an SOS to local authorities, so chances are the little button works fine and you have an incoming SWAT raid with paramedics and police surrounding the building.

Don’t worry, it’s not prostitution, we have a camera so it’s porn