btfod [he/him, comrade/them]

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Joined 2 years ago
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Cake day: April 21st, 2023

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  • Another listen and many tears later, the best I can do is like… this song is the essence of depression, and even though we had radically different lives, his lyrical descriptions hit me like a bullseye, the first time I heard it I was shocked at how I instantly and fully related to it. I’m crying bc I understand this pain and the deep tragedy of how isolating it is even though there are countless others who feel it too, and how the very nature of this pain pushes us away from the ones who would help us out of it. And this is lived all day every day by so many of us, not just talented artists…

    The song is so overwhelmingly sad, there’s not much hope or positivity to take from it directly… but it seems to have touched the hearts of millions like me, and it makes me want to be better, as trite as that may sound










  • Who’s your audience?

    I haven’t kept up with him in a while but Dr. Glaucomflecken is /was good but seems aimed at other health care professionals. If that’s your intent, I don’t mean to be a wet blanket but Dr. G I think already has that lane covered.

    If your audience is the general public then deal with topics relevant to them instead. Why you pay more for less every year. How to fight back, within the system and without. If I were doing it I’d point a big fucking spotlight at the leaders who have the power to fix it but refuse. They have names and addresses. Good luck.

    Edit: reading comprehension failed me… other HCPs will already know about this… leaving this up, look upon my shame!

    More on topic: If I were doing this I’d also highlight the extreme moral/ethical implications of healthcare being a “business” in the first place and how that will always lead to putting profits over people.




  • From the beginning fire has defined Malibu in the American imagination. In Two Years Before the Mast, Richard Henry Dana described sailing northward from San Pedro to Santa Barbara in 1826 and seeing a vast blaze along the coast of José Tapia’s Rancho Topanga Malibu Sequit. Despite—or, as we shall see, more likely because of—the Spanish prohibition of the Chumash and Tong-va Indian practice of annually burning the brush, mountain infernos repeatedly menaced Malibu through the nineteenth century.

    But the pressure during the 1920s boom to open the coastal range to speculative subdivision was unrelenting. In the hyperbole of the era, occupation of the mountains became Los Angeles’s manifest destiny. “The day for the white invasion of the Santa Monicas has come,” declared real estate clairvoyant John Russell McCarthy in a booklet published by the Los Angeles Times in 1925. In anticipation of this land rush, the county sheriff had been arresting every vagrant in sight and putting them to work on chain gangs building roads through the rugged canyons just south of Rancho Malibu. (Radical critics at the time denounced this system as “deliberate real-estate graft” meant only to enhance land values in mountain districts “which the population of this city does not even know exists.”)

    This essay gave me a lot to chew on, and I wanted to highlight these two excerpts in particular (bolded emphasis mine). Thanks for sharing. I don’t think a “fuck settlers” captures the magnitude of what I’m feeling but it’ll have to do for now.