Being in America is super fun because you get to see Trump going up against Biden in a presidential election with both of them being dogshit options, mass protests against what should very obviously be seen as an injustice that spits in the face of what you were told your country stands for, except the government disagrees, using the power of the militarized state to brutalize protestors, all the while people spread malicious lies regularly with millions believing their every word(a lot of it being thanks to some rich freak on Twitter). Also, the economy is doing pretty damn poor and you see media sources tell you to sacrifice your well-being all while the ultra rich get richer and richer.
And then after you're done with 2020, you get to do it again four years later
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whoever the fuck i saw saying "i can't stand english bitching because they're so complacent" and whoever else thinks we're not doing enough i'd like to invite you to DO SOME FUCKING RESEARCH.
a law was recently passed that deemed any kind of protesting as disruptive and able to be punished by the police, alongside giving the police more power.
we all watched the police storm the PEACEFUL VIGIL for sarah everard - a woman raped and murdered by a police officer.
PEOPLE ARE CURRENTLY BEING ARRESTED FOR OUTWARDLY EXPRESSING ANY SORT OF DISPLEASURE WITH THE MONARCHY.
A WOMAN WAS ARRESTED FOR HOLDING UP A SIGN. JUST HOLDING IT.
PEOPLE WERE ARRESTED FOR BOOING.
everything in britain has been put to a standstill. hospital appointments have been cancelled. funerals have been cancelled. we can't do anything about it.
many of us will be unable to pay our energy bills this winter. we will freeze. we will starve.
it has been demonstrated to us time and time and time again that protests simply make people talk about how we were protesting and never why. and now the police has increased power to punish us for any public opinion that they don't like.
we have been under tory rule for 12 years. 12 years of the same people - hey americans, can you imagine that?
we are tired, no, we are exhausted. we are struggling. we are scared. and it has been made clear to us that our government does not care.
so fucking forgive us if we're putting our own survival over the opinions of americans (and other non-brits but americans are the worst) online who expect us to learn everything about their politics and their country and don't put in an ounce of effort to learn about ours.
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Country singer Steve Harrington, who has always leaned more into the pop country side of things (think Wanted by Hunter Hayes), but wants his third album to be more true to old school country roots.
His label agrees but only if he works with Eddie Munson, a rock star who had to leave the spotlight when he got kicked out of his band for, well, rockstar behavior gone too far.
Steve isn't amused, especially because he doesn't care for metal music or rock star shenanigans. He was "raised better" and doesn't think Eddie could sit down and write songs with actual emotion and feeling.
Cue long songwriting sessions where Eddie is trying his hardest to be on his best behavior because he knows this is his last shot at being taken seriously, and Steve being surprised every time Eddie proves that he's talented as a songwriter and musician, well outside the scope of just metal and rock.
They write a song that they're both so proud of, Steve asks if he'll record it with him just for fun. The released version would just be Steve.
Eddie agrees.
It's an incredible duet, something country music has needed forever, but Eddie doesn't want that version out there.
The label genuinely accidentally releases their version instead of the Steve only version. As soon as they realize, they remove it from official places, but it's too late.
Fans have already heard it and have gone crazy over it, begging them to let the radio play this version, begging for this version to be available for streaming. The Steve version is great, but it doesn't have the emotion that's laced in the tone of them singing together.
Eddie finally gives in when he sees how happy Steve is about the reaction to it.
But the label decides they want them to tour together, have Eddie work as his opening act, perform his acoustic songs that haven't been officially released anywhere. Eddie can't do it.
He can't go back into that lifestyle. He couldn't do it to his band, who made him promise that he'd come back to them when he got his shit straight. He can't do it to his fans, who stuck by him through some rough shit, but probably wouldn't support a fucking country music career. He definitely can't do it to Steve, who deserves to have someone with him who can be trusted not to go off the deep end.
So he runs. He hides. His uncle welcomes him home, congratulates him on finally embracing his country roots.
It doesn't take long for Steve to find him.
Because he'd been more honest with Steve than he'd ever been with anyone. He told him about his childhood, his Uncle Wayne, his struggle to make it. He told him about his worse struggle when he did make it, how he got in with the wrong people, the wrong things. Prioritized the lifestyle more than his own life.
Of course Steve knew where he'd run to.
Of course Steve came to remind him what his life could be if he allowed himself to find new priorities.
Steve's lips were pretty persuasive, but not nearly as persuasive as his promises to remind him what he could have if he kept his life his priority.
"But what if I let you down?"
"You won't."
"But-"
"No. You won't. You're gonna do amazing things for yourself. And I'm gonna be there to see it happen. That's all."
And he was.
They co-wrote Steve's entire album while Eddie worked on recording his own original songs. He liked that it was an old school rock and roll feel, some blues, some country, some hints of metal sneaking in on a couple songs.
He called his band to come help him with a song, hesitant to even ask, but they came. Of course they came.
He called his Uncle Wayne to play banjo on a song, worried that he wouldn't like the heavier electric guitar notes over it. Of course he loved being involved.
When their tour started, he let himself actually feel nervous.
But instead of running, he looked at the man who supported him through it, even when his own career was on the line.
Of course Steve was there.
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“The first thing you need to know,” the stable master announced loudly to the gaggle of school children trailing behind her, “is that these are not unicorns.”
Eleven-year-olds tended to be loud. Their silent scepticism was deafening.
“You cannot keep unicorns in captivity,” she continued. “These are all crossbreeds, mostly with specific breeds of horses.”
There was a small murmur of curiosity and a gangly arm shot up into the air.
“Yes?”
“Only mostly horses?”
It was always fun when some of them paid close attention. “Only mostly horses. I only deal with European breeds, and they tend to cross well with horses. See this here is a cross between a grey Thoroughbred and an English Unicorn. They’re large, and reasonably docile.” They also had that champagne sheen most showy folk preferred. “For people who come here looking for a steed, this is their best bet. Although I've only ever seen it done by people who personally broke them as yearlings.”
By now she definitely had the whole class’s full attention.
“But this French Licorne cross is actually half fallow deer.” She gestured to the pasture beyond the fence. “Look at them. Slight build, slender legs, built for speed and agility. They need a lot of space but they are beautiful to look at, and they’re relatively easy to tame for the pure of heart.” There was still something distinctly deer-like about them and they were all so beautifully cream coloured that they almost took on a silver hue.
“What’s those hairy ones?” a voice piped up.
“That’s a Unicorno/Shetland mix, from central Italy. Traditionally they tend to be crossed with Monterufolino, but they are hard to come by and make their coats even darker.” Unicorni were naturally built more like ponies, some with considerably shorter horns, and their coats were often a much darker gold, or even brown. They were less flighty than the French breeds though, even if they showed blatant favouritism towards certain caretakers. They would even pull a carriage if properly motivated.
“Do you have any bigger ones?”
The stable master turned around. “What was that?”
One of the boys was standing behind her with a determined look on his face. “Do you have any like that but bigger. With the beards and the furry hooves.”
“Feathering,” she corrected automatically and the boy nodded eagerly. She frowned. “What exactly do you mean?”
“There’s really big unicorns,” he pressed. “With wild manes and tails and split hooves like the French ones but hair like those ones!”
“Buddy,” she laughed, “what you’re describing there is a Scottish unicorn and let me tell you, they cannot even be crossbred into domestication.”
The little face fell.
“Any offspring of an Aon-adharcach will be as wild as they are no one can capture them with their horn still intact, not on your life. You go near one of them with a halter and it will skewer you.”
She smiled at the boy, who still looked rather taken aback, despite this proof of his favourites superiority.
“Tell you what. If you want to see something unhinged and imposing, I’ll take you to see the Eenhoorn/Friesian cross we’ve just got in from the Netherlands.”
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Co-official and non-official languages of the Spanish state.
I was, what? WTF is that little island of Basque language in Segovia??
And I was today years old when I learnt about gacería or briquero, a language spoken by ~500 people as a first language, and ~5000 passive speakers (they can understand it but can't speak it).
Gacería was born around the 12th-13th centuries among cattle merchants as a code language for their businesses, and though it follows the Spanish pronunciation and grammar, it has influences of literally everyone in the Iberian peninsula at that time:
- Old Spanish
- French
- Arabic
- Caló (Iberian Roma people's language)
- Galician and Basque, due to Galician and Navarrese people leaving their homelands to repopulate the area after the Reconquista.
Some examples of Basque words in gacería:
artón = arto = bread
gazo = gaizto = bad
motillón = mutil, motel = young man
muy = mihi = tongue
ura = ura = water
urdaya = urdaia = pork, meat
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