The Tolerability Index

A guide to what we’re barely putting up with this week:

The return of the only reality competition worth watching, RuPaul’s Drag Race. Seven seasons, and it’s still the queen.

The latest unnecessary extension of the CSI franchise, CSI: Cyber. “Have you heard of this thing called the Internet?” CSI yells into the echoing abyss.

The latest unnecessary season of Dancing With The Stars. The preferred program of sequin manufacturers, people in the hospital who are unable to change the channel, and Rumer Willis (because she can finally be classified somewhere as a “star”).

Find more to tolerate at

love or bitter vanity, pt. 4

“The world’s workin’,” you insist, dodging the question. “Everyone gets fed an’ a roof, an’ if they want more they have to make themshellves useful to someone.”

“It’s strange,” she says, her voice perfectly level, her face absolute calm, “that you think society taking its members, killing them, and strapping their remains into engines is society working.”

Hello again! It is I, Ashkatom, with more words. How are we all feeling about the fic, now that it’s had some time to find its feet? Almost halfway!

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