Weekly Reader Vol 1 Issue 51

It’s time once again for news and views that you can peruse! It’s another edition of your Weekly Reader! As always, if you have something you’d like to share, drop a link in the comments! The more articles, the better! Because sharing is caring! So feel free to share away. The more, the merrier! ❤

Lyra McKee: a letter to my 14-year-old self (from The Guardian): “Right now, you’re wondering if you’ll ever be “normal”. You are normal. There is nothing wrong with you. You are not going to hell. You did nothing to deserve their hate.”

Facebook uploaded email contacts of 1.5m users without consent (from The Guardian): “The discovery follows criticism of Facebook by security experts for a feature that asked new users for their email password as part of the sign-up process. As well as exposing users to potential security breaches, those who provided passwords found that, immediately after their email was verified, the site began “importing” contacts without asking for permission.”

15 MONTHS OF FRESH HELL INSIDE FACEBOOK (from Wired): “Davos provided a first chance for many media executives to confront Facebook’s leaders about these changes. And so, one by one, testy publishers and editors trudged down Davos Platz to Facebook’s headquarters throughout the week, ice cleats attached to their boots, seeking clarity. Facebook had become a capricious, godlike force in the lives of news organizations; it fed them about a third of their referral traffic while devouring a greater and greater share of the advertising revenue the media industry relies on. And now this. Why? Why would a company beset by fake news stick a knife into real news? And what would Facebook’s algorithm deem trustworthy? Would the media executives even get to see their own scores?”

And The (Redacted) Truth Shall Set You Free (from John Pavlovitz): “Regardless of their lip service, the people who are on the side of this Administration don’t want honesty, they simply want to win (whatever that looks like in their minds), and everything yields and bows to that victory: facts, data, reality, truth—everything.”

Secrecy, Self-Dealing, and Greed at the N.R.A. (from The New Yorker): “LaPierre is right that the N.R.A. is troubled; in recent years, it has run annual deficits of as much as forty million dollars. It is not unusual for nonprofits to ask prospective donors to help forestall disaster. What is unusual is the extent to which such warnings have become the central activity of the N.R.A. Even as the association has reduced spending on its avowed core mission—gun education, safety, and training—to less than ten per cent of its total budget, it has substantially increased its spending on messaging. The N.R.A. is now mainly a media company, promoting a life style built around loving guns and hating anyone who might take them away.”

The Terribly Tiny God of MAGA Christians (from John Pavlovitz): “They passionately worship a deity made in their own image: white, American, Republican, male—and perpetually terrified of Muslims, immigrants, gay children, Special Counsel reports, mandalas, Harry Potter, Starbucks holiday cups, yoga, wind turbines, Science—everything. Their God is so laughably minuscule, so fully neutered of power, so completely devoid of functioning vertebrae that “He” cannot protect them from the encroaching monsters they are certain lurk around every corner to overwhelm them.”

And that’s all for now. Drop by again when I post more interesting items that might tickle your brain cells. Until then, happy reading!

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when we first started
our emails were friendly and nothing more.

at least
they were
to me.

we talked about things like our jobs
the shows we watched
the cartoons from our childhood.
we talked about everything and nothing.

time passed and
emails were still exchanged
but things changed.

i don’t know when it happened
when i fell in love with you.
i can’t remember the exact day that seeing
a response from you didn’t elicit a quiet smile
but a sudden eruption of giggles
a rush of happiness that was impossible
to contain.
there were goosebumps
a chill
and excitement.

then we met
face to face
and we spoke
and things changed even more.

when i left you
in minnesota
for my return to north carolina
i left a part of myself
a tangible piece that i knew i needed
in my life
i wanted you with me
beside me.
i wanted more
than friendship
with you.

i said it in that email
the hardest one i ever had to write
the one that laid me bare before you
putting everything on the line
in the hopes
that you’d understand and maybe
feel the same.

i was terrified when
i hit “send”
not knowing how you’d react
or respond.
i couldn’t be certain
that you’d feel the same
that you’d care about me
the way
i cared about you.

but i sent it anyway and i hoped
that you would read it and understand
that you would see past my fear
my lack of confidence
my inability to say how i really felt
about you.

i hoped you would see me
for who i was
for who i wanted to be
with you.

i loved you
but i couldn’t say it.
the fear
was too deep
and the hurt
too fresh.
i had laid myself
before another
who hadn’t cared
who had seen me as an object
something to be used and tossed away
nothing more.

i was tired of being hurt
of blaming myself
for things i couldn’t fix.
i wanted to be loved
but i feared it
feared the idea of vulnerability
and of giving myself to another.
how did i know
you wouldn’t abandon me?
how did i know
things wouldn’t be the same?
i took the risk
hoping for a reward.

twenty years.

it’s quite the reward.
and though it hasn’t been perfect
nothing ever is
it has been

from the moment i
came to wisconsin
with you
in a rental truck
to the moment
you slipped a silver band
upon my ring finger
while saying
“with this ring
i thee wed”
to this moment
as you read these scattered
muddled thoughts that i
cobbled together
life has been wonderful.

there have been clouds
somedays and
rain on others but
there is no place
i’d rather
weather the storm
than with you.

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An Average Kind of Stupid

That face you make when you know you’re hosed. Or about to buy it. Or both.

Yesterday, Prime and I tried to hit a Timber Rattlers game, but it got postponed; we had storms in the area which would rain out the game. So, we had dinner at HuHot, then carefully headed back home. When we pulled into the driveway, it was still raining and Prime said, “I hope no one left any packages.”

You can guess what happened next.

We hopped out of Scamper, trotted to the front stoop and, lo and behold, there was a cardboard box sitting near the front door. And it was fucking soaked.

The United States Postal Service had done it again. They dropped off a parcel in shit weather with no protection, which could easily damage the contents. Again.

Prime was abso-fucking-lutely livid, and that is putting it very mildly. We got the package into the house, I busted out my phone and booted up the camera so Prime could snap some pics. Which he did.

When he opened the box, he found that the articles inside were fine; they had been wrapped in bubble wrap and protected from the rain. But Prime wasn’t terribly pleased, with good reason.

This isn’t the first time that our mail carrier has left packages on our porch in inclement weather: we lost an entire box full of UK Transformers comics because the parcel had been left out in the rain. When Prime picked up that box, it hemorrhaged water before splitting open. Everything inside was a total loss. While we were living in Little Chute years ago, our letter carrier there had no clue how not to damage mail. That was on top of the fact that they kept leaving packages by the mailboxes, even though we had a hold order in effect.

So yeah, Prime’s sick of this and ten to one he’s at the post office right now, raising more than a little hell. I can’t blame him. Hell, I’d love to be there, giving these dipsticks a nice chunk of my mind!

I’d say that they were a special kind of stupid, but it’s the post office. For them, this is about average.

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On The Subtle Art Form of Not Fucking Getting It

Before I begin, I want to warn you: this gets into rather prickly territory–namely, abuse–and this may be a bit much for some. So if you think you can’t (or you simply don’t want to) handle it, then don’t go past the jump.

You have been warned. With that being said, let’s get started.

Continue reading

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Sunday Morning Nostalgia Crush!

The opening to Cagney and Lacey. Not something I watched often; is it just me or did I just see the jerk sensei from The Karate Kid…?

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Good Food, Good Meat…

…good god, let’s eat!

It’s been another shitty week, so let’s make it a kitty week. So here are some cats, enjoying noms. Enjoy!

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Documented Insanity



I don’t know what happened to spring, but we’re back to late autumn/early winter. It sucks; the sky is grey and it’s been fairly chilly for the last couple of days. It’s also been raining off and on since Wednesday. Great fun, I tell you.

I’ve never used Google docs; this is my first time. I think that I’m catching on pretty well. It’s fairly intuitive; this is a better experience than my first time with Microsoft Word. That was back in college and not only did the program refuse to save my document, it proceeded to fart out an unfinished copy of the essay I had been editing. My classmate was completely confused, because he had been trying to print out his work and ended up with mine instead. After that little incident, I used my word processor at home; I could use it with little to no difficulty. I almost miss that machine: when I moved out, I gave it to my dad.

I’m off this Sunday, since it’s Easter. I have to admit that I’m getting a bit spoiled by this job; at Walmart I was working every holiday except Christmas. Now, I don’t have to worry about going in at 18:45 on Thanksgiving evening in order to work a full day and go in at 5:45 on Black Friday. Even better? Costco doesn’t do Black Friday. We have deals the entire month!

I had heard that Costco had a different culture. It’s true. Yes, there are some crap days but not nearly as many as at Walmart. My stress level has dropped like you wouldn’t believe. Insomnia? Gastric reflux? Those are things of the past. I miss the people. But I don’t miss the place.

William Barr sounds like a guest star on an episode of Rosanne; he’s about as “hilarious” as well…

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