[syndicated profile] shamusyoung_feed

Posted by Ethan Rodgers

So here’s the deal. Everyone wants to be perceived as cool. We can all pretend we’re above it but at some level we don’t want some people to know some things. If people somehow found out you were into that thing, ya THAT one, what would happen? Your whole facade of normalcy or even badassery might disappear. Maybe they would stop talking to you. Maybe they would hate you.

No. That’s dumb. Stop being dumb. Nobody cares. And if they do care, they can fuck off. Their opinions don’t matter. I know this. You know this. So why does it still feel weird to discuss certain hobbies, shows, and even music?

The majority of people that hear “I play Magic the Gathering,” either already know I’m beyond hope or already don’t like me or my shitty tastes in things. Like Dan, Shamus’s brother, who swears at me when I bring it up. But why is it more taboo to talk with randoms and less familiar folks about nerdier stuff? I’d talk to my Luddite uncle who doesn’t care about anything that isn’t directly involving the woods and a gun about my favorite video games and why I love them. So why is it that bringing up the card game I spend most of my disposable income on feel so weird?

It’s easy to talk sports because it’s a societal expectation to have watched the latest sports. I’m a guy in rural PA after all. It’s a lot harder to slip your taste in metal music or anime. Sure, that depends on audience as well, but I don’t see why I should feel shame talking about my interests when I listen to older men talking to me about cars and hunting all the time. I don’t respond with a sneer or a laugh or a condescending reply because who does that? “Sure bud, I’m sure your rebuilt Trans Am is super cool,” I say with an eye roll. Nope. There’s no need to be a dick like that.

So I guess what I’m saying is that life is a lot better when you accept that you can enjoy things and genuinely tune out miserable losers that try to make you feel shame for enjoying something. I like Rick and Morty. That doesn’t make me a drooling stereotype of a Redditor who can’t properly communicate. I love horror movies and metal music. That doesn’t mean I can’t watch other genres of movies and listen to other genres of music. I like a few Vtubers. That doesn’t mean I’m a gooner. I’ve even known the loving embrace of a woman, believe it or not. I like Magic the Gathering. That doesn’t mean I stink. I do stink, but that’s not why.

Which is why I urge all of you to stop being condescending when your kids, nieces, nephews, or whoever shows you something you perceive as super dumb, give it a try. Hear them out. If you don’t like it or care, appreciate that they care about it. I promise you that it’ll make a big difference to them.

[syndicated profile] smbc_comics_feed

Posted by Zach Weinersmith



Click here to go see the bonus panel!

Hovertext:
I feel like AI alignment people are focusing too much on making AI be good and not enough on hiding all of history from them.


Today's News:

The Flu Really Is That Bad

Jan. 10th, 2026 08:00 am
[syndicated profile] theatlantic_health_feed

Posted by Katherine J. Wu

The flu situation in the United States right now is, in a word, bad. Infections have skyrocketed in recent weeks, filling hospitals nearly to capacity; viral levels are “high” or “very high” in most of the country. In late December, New York reported the most flu cases the state had ever recorded in a single week. My own 18-month-old brought home influenza six days before Christmas: He spiked a fever above 103 degrees for days, refusing foods and most fluids; I spent the holiday syringing electrolyte water into his mouth, while battling my own fever and chills. This year’s serving of flu already seems set to be more severe than average, Seema Lakdawala, a flu virologist at Emory University, told me. This season could be a reprise of last winter’s, the most severe on record since the start of the coronavirus pandemic—or, perhaps, worse.

At the same time, what the U.S. is experiencing right now “fits within the general spectrum of what we would expect,” Taison Bell, an infectious-disease and critical-care physician at the University of Virginia Health System, told me. This is simply how the flu behaves: The virus is responsible for one of the roughest respiratory illnesses that Americans regularly suffer, routinely causing hundreds of thousands of people to be hospitalized annually in the U.S., tens of thousands of whom die. (So far this season, the flu has killed more than 5,000 people, including at least nine children.) Influenza is capable of even worse—sparking global pandemics, for instance, including some of the deadliest in history. These current tolls, however, are well within the bounds of just how awful the “seasonal” flu can be. “It’s another flu year, and it sucks,” Bell said.

Although flu is a ubiquitous winter illness, it is also one of the least understood. Scientists have been puzzling over the virus for decades, but many aspects of its rapid evolution and transmission patterns, as well as the ways in which our bodies defend against it, remain frustratingly mysterious. Flu seasons, as a rule, differ drastically from one another, and “we don’t have a great understanding of why one ends up being more severe than another,” Samuel Scarpino, an infectious-disease-modeling researcher at Northeastern University, told me. Experts’ flu-dar has also been especially out of whack in recent years, since the arrival of COVID-19 disrupted typical flu-transmission patterns. (An entire lineage of flu, for instance, may have been driven to extinction by pandemic-mitigation measures.) The virus is still finding its new norm.

Even so, a few things about this season’s ongoing torment are clear. Much of the blame rests on the season’s dominant flu variant—subclade K, which belongs to the H3N2 group of influenza. As flus go, H3N2s tend to be more likely to hospitalize and kill people; most of the worst flu seasons of the past decade in the U.S. have been driven by H3N2 surges. Subclade K doesn’t seem to be an unusually virulent variant, which is to say it’s probably no more likely to cause severe disease than a typical version of H3N2. But it does seem to be better at dodging our immune defenses, making the net effect similar, because it can lead to more people getting sicker than they otherwise would. That’s not a trivial effect for a disease that, even in mild cases, can cause days of high fevers and chills, followed by potentially weeks of that delightful run-over-by-a-truck feeling.

At UVA Health, Bell has seen a major uptick in people testing positive for the virus in recent weeks. Like others, his hospital is close to full, straining its capacity to treat other illnesses, he said. In Michigan, too, where Molly O’Shea cares for children at multiple pediatric practices, “we are seeing a ton of influenza, just a ton,” she told me. “Our schedule is overflowing.” Several of her school-age patients have wound up in the hospital, despite being previously healthy; a few have ended up with serious complications such as pneumonia and brain inflammation. The worst cases, she said, have been among the children who didn’t get their annual flu shot.

Flu vaccines are not among the most impressive immunizations in our roster. Although they’re generally pretty effective at protecting against severe disease, hospitalization, and death, they don’t reliably stave off infection or transmission. And they’re frequently bamboozled by the virus itself, which shape-shifts so frequently throughout the year, as it ping-pongs from hemisphere to hemisphere, that by the time flu vaccines roll out to the public, they’re often at least a little out of sync with what’s currently circulating.

That’s another aggravating factor this year. Researchers first detected subclade K in June, months after experts selected the strains that would go into the fall flu-vaccine formulation. Recent data suggest that vaccination may still elicit some immune defenses that recognize subclade K, and preliminary estimates from the United Kingdom suggest that this year’s formulations may be especially effective at preventing severe disease in children, who, along with the elderly, are highly vulnerable to the flu. (For all the misery my family endured, none of us ended up in the hospital—which suggests that our vaccinations did their job.)

Children also tend to be the biggest drivers of flu’s spread. “They are the source, many times, of explosions of transmission,” Lakdawala told me. In the U.K., for instance, which experienced an unusually early start to the flu season, school-age kids appear to have driven much of the epidemic, Scarpino pointed out. In the U.S., too, case rates among children have been particularly high. Although the vaccine primarily limits severe disease, it can also affect how quickly the virus travels through a community. And yet only about half of American kids get the vaccine each year, despite long-standing universal recommendations for annual immunization. “It’s a vaccine that parents have never really treated as a vaccine that every child should get,” O’Shea said.

Those choices might be influenced by the ways many people underestimate the flu—a term often used to describe any cold-weather ailment that comes with a runny nose, cough, or even gastrointestinal upset. In reality, flu has long clocked as one of the U.S.’s top 10 or top 15 causes of death—a scourge that, through its impact on the health-care system, the workforce, and the economy at large, costs the country billions of dollars each year. Against such a substantial threat, we should be using “everything in our toolbox to protect ourselves,” Lakdawala said.

Yet the Trump administration is actively impeding the process of flu vaccination. Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. has also said that it may be “a better thing” if fewer people are immunized against the flu—and insisted, incorrectly, that “there is no scientific evidence that the flu vaccine prevents serious illness, hospitalizations, or death in children.” The federal government recommended annual flu vaccines for all children until earlier this month, when HHS pushed through changes that demoted multiple immunizations from its recommended schedule. HHS now says that families should consult with their health-care provider before taking the shot. Such a recommendation suggests that the vaccines’ overall benefits are ambiguous enough to require discussion—and puts an additional burden on both patients and health-care providers, who can administer what was once a routine vaccine only after a conversation that must then be documented.

The nation’s leaders have also compromised one of the country’s best chances to develop more effective, better-matched flu vaccines in the future, by defunding research into mRNA vaccines. The current flu-vaccine manufacturing process takes so long that the included strains for the Northern Hemisphere must be selected by February or so—which provides plenty of time for the virus to evolve before the autumn rollout begins, as happened this year. “We pretty regularly have a bad match for the flu,” Scarpino said. mRNA vaccines promised the possibility of faster development, allowing researchers to stay more closely on the flu’s heels and switch out viral ingredients in as little as two or three months. That degree of flexibility also would have sped the response to the next flu pandemic.

In an email, Andrew Nixon, HHS’s deputy assistant secretary for media relations, disputed the characterization that the department’s new policies impede flu vaccination, writing, “Providers continue to offer flu vaccines, and insurance coverage remains unchanged. The recommendation supports shared clinical decision-making between patients and clinicians and does not prevent timely vaccination. People can continue to receive flu vaccines if they choose to do so.”

For the current season, much of the U.S.’s fate may already be sealed: Less than half of Americans have gotten a flu vaccine this season, while the virus continues to spread. “If you find yourself in a place where there are people sick with flu, you’re probably gonna get sick,” Scarpino said. That logic likely holds true for his own family, in Massachusetts, where flu activity has been high for weeks. They’ve so far made it through unscathed, but Scarpino said, “I feel like it’s a matter of time.”

[syndicated profile] theatlantic_health_feed

Posted by Rachel Sugar

On a recent Tuesday morning, I was blessed with a miracle in a mini-mart. I had set out to find the protein bar I kept hearing about, only to find a row of empty boxes. But then I spotted the shimmer. Pushed to the back of one carton, gleaming in its gold wrapper, was a single Salted Peanut Butter David Protein Bar. It was mine.

David bars are putty-like rectangles of pure nutritional efficiency: 28 grams of protein stuffed into 150 calories, or roughly the equivalent of eight egg whites cooked without oil. They are booming right now. After all, in this era of protein mania, one must always be optimizing. A Quest bar might get you 20 grams of protein for just under 200 calories, but David—named after Michelangelo’s masterpiece—does more for less. “Humans aren’t perfect,” promises one David tagline, “but David is.” Why, given the possibility of perfection, would you accept eight grams less?

If a food with more protein is better, then it follows that a food with less is worse. After eating my David bar, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit bad about my dinner of brown rice and spicy chickpeas. A cup of Eden Foods organic chickpeas (240 calories) gets you a measly 12 grams. Now that I was living in the world of David, I was newly ambivalent about eating anything that wasn’t chunks of unadulterated protein. I am fueling, I thought, shoving cubes of baked tofu into my mouth. Did you know that green peas have an unusual amount of protein for a vegetable? With unsettling frequency, I began to add frozen peas to my dinners. (They’re not great on cacio e pepe, it turns out.)

I have become quietly obsessed with this one single macronutrient. How could I not be? Everything is protein now: There are protein chips and protein ice creams and cinnamon protein Cheerios. Lemonade is protein, and so is water. Last month, Chipotle introduced a “high protein cup” consisting of four ounces of cubed chicken. Melanie Masarin, the founder and CEO of Ghia, a nonalcoholic-drink brand, recently told me that an investor asked her whether Ghia has plans for a high-protein aperitif. No, but the investor’s logic was obvious: Healthy people, the kind who tend to watch their drinking, only want one thing. This week, the federal government released its latest set of dietary guidelines—including a newly inverted food pyramid. At the top is protein.

[Read: Protein madness has gone too far]

In some ways, protein is just the latest all-consuming nutritional fixation. For decades, the goal was to avoid fat, which meant that pretzels were good and peanut butter was bad and fat-free Snackwell’s devil’s-food cookie cakes were a cultural phenomenon. Then Americans rediscovered fat and villainized carbs. But protein is different. Whatever your dreams are, protein seems to be the answer. It supports muscle gain, for those trying to bulk up, but it’s also satiating, which means people trying to lose weight are also advised to eat more protein. It has the power to make you bigger and more jacked, but also smaller and more delicate. People on GLP-1s are supposed to be especially mindful of their protein intake, to prevent muscle loss on extremely low-calorie diets, but so are weight lifters.

It is a nutritional philosophy that encourages not restriction but abundance: as much protein as possible, all the time. You can have your cake and eat it too (as long as it is made with “protein flour”). In a world where the very act of eating feels fraught, layered with a lifetime of rules and fads and judgments about what food is and is not “good,” protein offers absolution: You don’t have to feel bad about this. It has so many grams! What a beautifully straightforward recommendation: Eat more of this one thing that happens to be everywhere, and that frequently tastes good.

The low rattle of protein mania—the protein matchas and protein Pop-Tarts and protein seasonings to sprinkle on your protein chicken cubes—can be as maddening as it is inescapable. Everybody knows that you are supposed to eat a varied diet with many different types of foods that provide many different nutrients. But only protein is endowed with a special kind of redemptive power. Nobody is pretending that tortilla chips are a cornerstone of a balanced diet, but if they’re protein tortilla chips (7 grams), well, then maybe they’re at least fine. This is fantastic news if your goal is to enjoy tortilla chips, but it does have a tendency to recast all food that has not been protein-ified—either by nature or by the addition of whey-protein isolate—as a minor failure. It is depressing to look at a pile of roasted vegetables, arranged elegantly over couscous, and think: I will try harder tomorrow. I know, because I do it.

Protein is supposed to allow people to realize their untapped potential—to make us stronger and sharper. I suspect, though, that I would be stronger and sharper if I could stop ambiently thinking about my protein intake. That the world is now covered in a protein-infused haze provides constant reminders that I am falling short. Lots of protein evangelists will tell you that this is how cavemen ate, and therefore it is good. I think the best part of being a caveman would be not worrying about protein.

As nutritional trends go, there are worse obsessions than protein. Even if there is still significant debate about how much protein one needs, you are unlikely to send yourself into kidney failure because you protein-maxxed too hard. But the fanatical focus on protein as the true answer, the universal key to transforming the body you have into the one you want—7 grams, 28 grams, 11 grams, a chicken smoothie—feels eerily familiar. We counted calories, grams of fat, carbohydrates, trying to distill the messy science of nutrition into one single quantitative metric. Protein, for all its many virtues, is just another thing to count.

conuly: (Default)
[personal profile] conuly
You'll laugh, it was that weird.

I dreamed that I was going to sleep. I had found a bed - not my actual bed, just a bed! - and snuggled down to sleep. And then I woke up a little (really woke up, not dream woke up) in my own bed, snuggled up nice and cozy, and drifted between the two beds, real and dream, for a little bit before falling back asleep for real.

****************


Read more... )

Torchwood: Fanfic: Newsworthy

Jan. 10th, 2026 08:29 pm
m_findlow: (Date)
[personal profile] m_findlow posting in [community profile] fan_flashworks
Title: Newsworthy
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Ianto, Jack
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 663 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 502 - Sand
Summary: Ianto is beginning to regret having a slow morning with time to read the paper.

Read more... )

Outpatient Procedure

Jan. 9th, 2026 03:40 pm
[syndicated profile] anothernormalanomaly_feed

saphronethaleph:

The door opened, and Janice Olken looked up.

“Chris H?” she asked.

“That’s me,” the man agreed, somewhat nervously. “The receptionist told me to come straight here – is that all right?”

“That’s quite correct,” Janice agreed. “My previous appointment cancelled, and we’ve got a lot to go through… take a seat, please.”

She shuffled away the papers she was working on, official forms, then assessed Chris.

“All right,” she said. “This is the last meeting before you’re committed, but it’s the first meeting with me, so I hope you’ll forgive me that we go through some basics.”

Keep reading

books I have DNFed

Jan. 9th, 2026 11:25 pm
snickfic: (Buffy hungry)
[personal profile] snickfic
It's been a minute!

The Starving Saints by Caitlin Starling. IDK how you make a book full of starving, soon-to-be-cannibal lesbian nuns beseiged in a castle anything less than completely my jam, but man, I just wasn't feelng it.

The Incandescent by Emily Tesh. The superintendent of a private school for magic... sorry, I got at least fifty pages in and I can't even tell you what the premise was.

Dead Mountain: The Untold True Story of the Dyatlov Pass Incident. I tried this book about the mysterious deaths of a bunch of Russian hikers during my mountaineering disasters phase, but I just couldn't get over this American doc producer rocking up to Russia without speaking a word of Russian OR knowing anything about mountain hiking and deciding he was going to solve this decades old mystery. Half the chapters were about him bumbling around Russia hoping people would take pity on him and tell him things while privately complaining that they didn't tell him fast enough. God give me the confidence of a mediocre white man.

The Dad Rock That Made Me a Woman by Niko Stratis. Trans woman narrates her gender journey through music. I'm interested in stories about rock music and people's relationship to it, but I struggled with Stratis's writing. I don't even know why.

Blacktop Wasteland by SA Cosby. A driver who's successfully escaped the life gets pulled in to do one last heist. I feel like this is the Cosby everyone recommends, but I couldn't get over how predictable the plot was. Maybe it had some surprises later, but I didn't get that far. Worse, I was supposed to be reading this with a friend and totally failed out, which I still feel guilty about!

Daughter of the Blood by Anne Bishop. Magic and gemstones and stuff, who can say. Guys, I'm sorry, I really wanted this to be trashy good fun, what I've osmosed about the series sounds so bonkers and great, but the writing was so bad. I couldn't do it.

Rotherweird by Andrew Caldecott. There's a town forbidden to learn history, and some new folks arrive. This sounds like the kind of bananas culty cloistered culture I'm into (eg Anathem), but in practice everything felt both artificial and not nearly weird enough. I felt like I was reading a toned-down Lemony Snicket novel for adults.

Strangers on a Train by Patricia Highsmith. Two men fall in together on a train, and one proposes they each perform a useful murder for the other. I loved The Price of Salt, but this is a meaner novel, about two characters hopelessly, miserably, self-indulgently mired in their own perspectives. I didn't like how one-sided the whole thing was, with the one guy basically blackmailing the other into doing a reciprocal murder, and somehow once he's done it, you're only drowning even more in his self-centered misery. The weird thing is I kept being reminded of The Secret History and the aftermath of its central murder, but somehow I loved that book and found this one continually repellent. I stopped sixty pages from the end, and I should have stopped way sooner.

Penhallow by Georgette Heyer. The terrible family patriarch is murdered, or so the back cover promised, but I was halfway into this 500+ page novel and he hadn't even died yet. I gather from discussions that this is more of a literary novel than a murder mystery as such and that it gets really dark. I was enjoying it okay when I was reading it, but I took a break for Yuletide, and a month later I just don't care to continue. I still want to try one of her frothier detective novels, though.

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