Zach Galifianakis & Hillary Clinton

It’s been really confusing watching more people than I could have ever expected think that Zach Galifianakis really “took it to Hillary” and how he may have “signed his death warrant with this one” and other stuff.

It’s so obviously the other way around. The entire Between the Two Ferns bit was crafted to mollify people and make light of what are otherwise very serious offenses.

It goes right down to the Archetype of the Jester, being allowed to poke fun at the King to release some of the tension that may be building up in a society.

Don’t want to get that deep with it? Answer this then:  Why would a person, who hasn’t had an open press conference in just under one full calendar year now, walk onto the set with Zach Galifianakis without it being a 100% controlled environment?


I felt the crumble before he did.
A wave of satisfying completion
that left me finding the words
in the darkness we created—
I found it first.

The shadows casted on the walls
surrounded us in a puppet show
stretched out of proportion. The
nails on a window scratched and
groaned; birch branches waved 
back when I failed to do so.

He found his voice before I did.
Pulled the cocoon of blankets
off our backs, and shoved them
further down the bed. Ghosts
of what we’d come to know
danced and fizzled out before
greeting the playful shade.

I didn’t recall the gray around
his eyes, nor the tall tell sign of
different blankets in a different bed
on a different night with a different …
But as simple as the night on his
skin or the draping of false comfort,
the words were found in the dark
and our so called fortress
had fallen.

HUEN002 - Mollified - 1982Brat

Our second relase is actually titled after a relatively unremarkable pickup truck from Subaru. Couldn’t believe it when Mollified submitted it like that. Here’s a short interview with Cassidy H Kane on the subject.

CassidyHKane: So was it like your first car or something? An old jalopy pickup truck your father gave you for your 18th birthday?

Mollified: Dude no, I never even seen one live, in the flesh, or rather in the chassis right, you have to remember I grew up in Milan, not Dayton Ohio, no offense, but I don’t think this kind of car was ever really around in Italy.

CHK: This is weird then, because let me tell you, as a fantasy supercar it’s not like, I mean it’s not like Kavinsky and the Testarossa right? That’s kind of aspirational, Jordan Belfort and the white Ferrari from Miami Vice, that’s the kind of reference that evokes a whole vibe. The Subaru Brat, eh, not so much.

Mollified: Oh but I had the model from Tamiya. Really shitty RC model.

CHK: Still kind of begs the question why though? Couldn’t you have picked up some cooler model, like a dune buggy type of offroad deal with flames decals?

Mollified: Listen, it went down like this. I was like 8, 9 years old, I wanted a popular Nikko RC model car but it was too expensive, or sold out everywhere I think, so my father took me to this really well regarded model toy shop downtown. And it was heaven, they had tamiya models of every conceivable vehicle in existance, and I think then and there I thought, screw RC cars, let me have that model TANK, or that model US NAVY BATTLESHIP. But my dad, always the voice of reason, told me no, I’m not gonna buy you a model with 7000 tiny plastic parts that eventually I’ll have to glue up for you once you start crying, life is too short for that shit. Take one of those cars and let’s go back home.So, enraged, I picked the shittiest one I could find, thinking hey, that’ll show him, but you know, that only showed me since i got stuck with that thing for years while all the other kids laughed at me.

CHK: Great story, you were a little douchey kid. still not sure how any of this has even anything about to do with the music, your music?

Mollified: Look that wasn’t a great car right? So I think, something had to be great about it right? And I bet it was the tape player. It was a japanese car, I’m sure it had an amazing chunky tape player with solid switches that would cla-clunk when pressing rewind or eject. It has to. Don’t ruin my fantasy.

CHK: I think i’ve actually been on a BRAT once, you know, in rural Ohio where *I* grew up, I think I won’t spoil it for you, sometimes it’s better to face reality sooner rather than later, sometimes it’s not.

Mollified: Thanks man.

Mollified on his most trusted piece of gear: EHX bass big muff Pi 

I end up using this on every bass sound. It’s good on my bass guitar, it’s great on synths if you just take care with the gain.

Depending on the source, attenuating the level is somehow necessary to maintain dynamics and avoid turning everything into a wall of mush.

Here’s my actual settings for the ending of Sizzle Jar

The distorted track is layered with the original sub bass from my microkorg

He holds council with angels

I have only held a vigil with the dark

I don’t think anymore about a question of good or evil

I’d rather peer into the windows of effort

Effort I can handle

Something workable and threadable is unappealing

I’m not in this to mollify my predilections

Or observe a perfect partner anymore

I learned the hard way that ideals change people

Men are more than abstract concepts

Hearts are boats that will float away on currents

Of misunderstandings if we don’t pay attention

And there is little we can do

Once the fiber comes unraveled

Let it collect

A half-hearted memory

Knock the dust off once in a while

The Last Children of Akatosh

Chapter 5 Preview -  Elanna makes it to Riften…


The welcome to Riften was almost insulting, she knew a scam when she saw one, especially one as flimsy as that. If they charged everyone coming into the city there’d be a line all day. Still, Elanna wanted no hassle and refused to draw attention to herself. She wrapped a length cloth around her eyes and acted the part of brow-beaten traveller, paying what the guard asked as if his intentions were expertly hidden.

It wasn’t just for show, however. The day and half of travel saw her having another nightmare and the weight of her time before she came to skyrim was beginning to bear down on her anew. A fresh wave of remembrance and feelings of self-conscious doubt and disgust swept through her. It had to be mollified somehow and wearing a blindfold again would suffice.

Moving with a posture of meekness, she used her unstrung bow like a makeshift walking stick and made her way into the city.

The first thing that struck her was the smell of stagnant water and fish, and as she walked through the streets towards the city centre she passed over several winding canals that had little to no life in them. The squalor and shabbiness of the people here was hard to miss, like a fog of booze and unwashed bodies. Some were better off, of course, cleaner clothes and a better   grip on their coin purse. Most didn’t have their purses in plain sight and seemed tense when strangers passed them by.

It was familiar, painfully so, the sensation that she was walking through the corpse of something once prosperous but exploited to the point of dying. She had seen it before but never quite on this scale, always by people too young or thoughtless to think it through. Take everything and crush all current and future competition, consequences be damned; Elanna had to hold her sneer…

Read the last four chapters on AO3 \o/

Updating every firday!

So about 5 this morning, Tiny Cat decides that she is cold.

Tiny Cat starts out lying on my side, them moves up to my chest, and starts batting at my chin. I lift up the covers for her and she slides under them, curls up next to my chest, and purrs herself to sleep.  I go “ok all is well” and start to doze.

Just as I drift off, Tiny Cat wakes up disoriented and starts meowing.  I get her sorted out and she scampers off. I try to go back to sleep.

Tiny Cat returns and wants under the covers again. One of the big cats follows her in and throws a snit fit because I’m petting the kitten and not her.  Said cat continues to be snitty pretty much until breakfast time, when she is mollified by a generous helping of bonito flakes.

In other news, I woke up early this morning and the tea’s not helping much yet.

The one where Stiles is absolutely fine

Word of the day: mollify

Written for: @derekhale-needsahug

Prompt: Sterydia + domestic + Lydia and Derek take care of a sick Stiles.

AO3 link

For most people being sick means taking a few days of rest, drinking a couple of litres of OJ, and being doted on by their partner as they look after them in this awful time. (Or in Stiles’ case, partners. Derek and Lydia, in fact. Yee-haw, partners! Geddit? Heh. He’s hilarious.) In Stiles’ case, however, it means less rest, probably the same amount of juice, and badgering from his partners. He’s not even sick! Werewolves should be re-named to were-badgers because seriously, Derek can badger like nobody’s business.

Stiles tries to wrestle out of the tight sheet wrapped around him, but Derek’s managed to tuck the sheet on both sides, and the end so Stiles is less of a burrito and more of … something packed in tightly? Oh, sardine. Yeah, that works.

He’s a sardine and can’t even wriggle out of the bed. Hell, he can’t even get his foot out of the sheet which means he’s not going to be able to sleep anyway, so there. Stiles feels a cough starting to build up in his chest and holds his breath, hoping he won’t explode in any way that’s too disgusting. Lydia’d be upset if he ruined their brand new carpet. Besides, he’s not sick. See, he hasn’t coughed in like, ten whole minutes. He’s totally better, fine, and needs to be out of this bed.

“Stiles, if you don’t cough, the bacteria’s going to stay in your chest and make it worse,” Lydia calls from wherever she is.

He doesn’t believe the thing about bacteria, but then Stiles wonders how she knows he’s holding in a cough.

Lydia arrives in the doorway a moment later, a vase floating in front of her. Oh, right. Rampant magic is apparently a side-effect when witches get sick. But Stiles is so not sick. He’s totally making that vase float on purpose.

His chest hurts, his lungs burn, and he finally coughs. The vase drops and Lydia catches it, setting it on the bedside table which is weirdly magic-free.

“I’m fine,” Stiles protests, though with his stuffy nose, it sounds more like ’m phym’ which doesn’t help his case at all.

“I can see that,” Lydia says, eyebrows raised and tone disbelieving.

Stiles can’t even gather enough energy to glare. He lets his head fall back on the pillow from the mere centimetre he’s able to raise it. “Where’s Derek?” which doesn’t sound like that at all, and he coughs again.

Okay, fine, he might be a little sick.

Keep reading

“I am not wearing that.” 


“Sasuke this is some stupid bet with Naruto-” 

“Sakura actually-”

“WHOEVER I am not wearing that.” 

“But if we get best shirt everyone else pays!” 

“I really don’t care.” 

“Yeah you do.”

Chouji groaned and glared at Sasuke. That was the moment the Uchiha knew he had won. “Whatever lawsuit gets slapped on me tonight because of something some drunk dick says which requires I punch his teeth out is your responsibility.” 

“Got it.” Sasuke said. “Now hurry up we’re gonna be late.” 

Chouji growled at him and grabbed the offered garment, stalking back to their bedroom. 

The restaurant was busy but not full when they got there. Sakura stood and waved from the large booth the group normally wound up dominating. Kiba, Shino, Neji, Sakura, Hinata and Naruto were already there. Chouji was somewhat mollified to see he wasn’t the only man who had been coerced into this ridiculous farce. He followed Sasuke over and glared at Sakura. 

“I understand this is your fault.” He said. 

“I had a great idea!” She defended herself. “Come on Neji stand up.” 

Neji gave Sakura a look but did as he was ordered. His tee shirt read ‘ask me about my daddy issues’. 

Chouji winced. “Harsh.” He said. 

“I have been promised such things.” Neji said primly, and promptly sat back down. 

“Yours doesn’t even make sense!” Sasuke protested when Kiba nudged Shino, which made the other man sigh and unfold his arms to reveal his tee shirt, which read ‘pretty fly for a rabbi’. “You’re not ordained yet.” 

“Hey hey he’s working on it.” Kiba defended, slinging one arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder. 

“Yeah whatever mine’s the best.” Naruto said. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it, dobe.” Sasuke said, and Naruto proudly stood and puffed out his chest. 

“What does the fox say?” Sasuke asked, incredulous. Sakura sighed as Hinata said, face a little red, “Naruto loves that song.” 

“That’s caus’ it’s the best.” Naruto said. 

“We are not talking about your terrible taste in music, Naruto.” Sakura said. “Not before dinner.” She looked at Chouji. 

Everyone was looking at Chouji. 

Chouji looked at Sasuke. “I am going to kill you for this.” He said. 

“No you won’t.” Sasuke tugged on his hoodie-sleeve. “Off with it. It’s a masterpiece.” 

“It’s humiliating.” 

“It’s a stroke of pure genius and I am going to tear it off of you when we get home.” Sasuke said sweetly. 

Chouji groaned and unzipped his hoodie. “There. Happy?” 

“Oh my god Sasuke you’re brilliant.” Sakura said. 

“What does that even mean?” Naruto  demanded as Hinata flushed red. Kiba was grinning and even Neji’s lips turned up just a tad. Shino pushed up his glasses and made a noise of approval. 

Sasuke’s grin was as sharp as the lettering on Chouji’s shirt, which read, “Go Big or Go Home.” 

“It means we win, dobe. Dinner’s on you.” 

“WHAT? Oh come on-” 

As they began to argue Chouji leaned over towards Shino. “Did you bring a change of clothes?” He whispered. 

“Didn’t think to.” Shino said back. 

“Wasn’t allowed.” Neji added from across the table. 

Chouji sighed and picked up a menu. Well, fine. If everyone else was going to pay for this he was going to make them aware of his displeasure the most effective way he knew how. 

Maybe he’d let Sasuke tear the shirt off later.  

Maybe not. 

minty-fresh-otome  asked:

(Baba) Mint had gotten out of bed in the middle of the night for a drink of water. When she returned, she was surprised to find Mitsunari awake. "Oh. I didn't mean to wake you. You weren't worried by my absence, were you?" she asked as she crawled back into his arms.

“I was initially, yes, but once I heard you in the kitchen, my concerns were mollified. I suppose it comes down to the fact that without my princess beside me, I find that I am unable to sleep properly.