redeeming value

The Transformers fandom is really fascinating to me - I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a deep and abiding love for a franchise paired with such an enthusiastic willingness to acknowledge that the greater part of that franchise’s output has no redeeming value whatsoever.

We have become a Nazi monster in the eyes of the whole world—a nation of bullies and bastards who would rather kill than live peacefully. We are not just Whores for power and oil, but killer whores with hate and fear in our hearts. We are human scum, and that is how history will judge us… . No redeeming social value. Just whores. Get out of our way, or we’ll kill you.

Well, shit on that dumbness. George W. Bush does not speak for me or my son or my mother or my friends or the people I respect in this world. We didn’t vote for these cheap, greedy little killers who speak for America today—and we will not vote for them again in 2002. Or 2004. Or ever.

Who does vote for these dishonest shitheads? Who among us can be happy and proud of having all this innocent blood on our hands? Who are these swine? These flag-sucking half-wits who get fleeced and fooled by stupid little rich kids?

They are the same ones who wanted to have Muhammad Ali locked up for refusing to kill gooks. They speak for all that is cruel and stupid and vicious in the American character. They are the racists and hate mongers among us—they are the Ku Klux Klan. I piss down the throats of these Nazis.

And I am too old to worry about whether they like it or not. Fuck them.

—  Hunter S. Thompson, Kingdom of Fear: Loathsome Secrets of a Star-Crossed Child in the Final Days of the American Century, 2003
Jackrabbit

What can I say… One of the most destructive pests out here. They’re fast, they’re lanky, they have giant ears and they taste bad. Well to me anyways. I know people that eat them and I don’t get how. They may look a little like a European Hare but they aren’t the same The Jackrabbit is the competitor of the Cottontail. They exist side by side and often when I go after one I find the other instead. Jackrabbits at least in Utah and Arizona have no season and you can shoot them or trap them yearly. They don’t dig burrows and live in brush or rock piles. 

And boy can they get big. 

This is about as big as I have ever seen them. Often they’re full of parasites and ticks. Their diet is pretty much everything that they can nibble They will seek out water sources if it gets very hot and can be easily shot or caught at canals and streams. 

Jacks honestly to me have little redeeming value. I will skin them but I won’t eat them. I will leave them out for the scavengers though or feed them to the local farmer’s pigs. 

I see much more of them than I do Cottontails out here and it’s a good time to take a few of them. 

@treasure-mimic replied to your post: all this screaming over Mass Effect Andromeda…

Can’t we just all agree to laugh at the broken animations?

i would say yes but even that has become a hyper-polarized battleground. i tend to enjoy bioware games and i’ll laugh at the animations but it stops being fun when people start taking that and going AND THAT’S WHY THESE GAMES ARE WITHOUT ANY REDEEMING VALUE AND IF YOU LIKE THEM YOU’RE A BROKEN HUMAN BEING

it’s like honestly at this point the only unity i want is everyone shutting the fuck up

Communication  Skills

A/N: Pure smuff for my sick shipper pleasure .

If anyone would like to beta for me please hit me up. Thanks!


Rating: Soft M



Clarke felt like a cranky chaperone as she made her rounds through the revelers. She had already put out a small fire and mediated a fight between two boys. Logically, Clarke knew they all needed this reprieve. It had been a hard year since the defeat of Mt. Weather. Three-hundred and sixty five days of hard. She felt exhausted just thinking about it, but they had done it. They had managed to build a community. There was a well-stocked med bay, fields of crops, and there was even talk of building a school. Deciding to celebrate was an easy decision to make. However, trying to keep order was another matter altogether.

The guards that had been assigned to monitor the party were a bit too lenient in Clarke’s opinion. Where the hell is Bellamy? She had just spotted Miller, his preferred guard, neglecting his duty by getting it on with Monty right in the middle of their makeshift dance floor. Everything was completely out of control.

A loud whistle cut through the laughter and chatter of the night. Clarke turned to follow the sound, spotting Bellamy leaning lazily against scuffed up metal crates. No doubt the reason for his easy smile as she approached was the dented tin cup in his hand.

“Bellamy, the guards are either outright joining the party or watching on with amusement. Do you know how many couples I’ve seen sneaking out of here? Six. The moonshine is flowing freely, I’ve even spotted several-”

Bellamy placed his cup down in a slow deliberate move on the surface of the crates. He turned toward her with a sigh, cutting off her speech with his hand. “We talked about this, Princess. Remember? We knew what to expect.” Clarke glared at him; removing his hand from her mouth.

“But-” This time all it took was a censuring glance to quiet her. He was right, she knew he was, but she was still brimming with worry. It was chaos. Much more than she could have imagined.

“Relax.  There are no immediate threats, and we’ve survived this shitty planet for more than a year.  We deserve this. Now, sit down, have a drink, and enjoy the party.” As he spoke he gripped her waist to hoist her up onto the crates.

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for @ofgeography ‘s birthday enjoyment, part one of a story about a spunky princess and a histrionic dragon– naturally I thought of her while writing it

What can you do with a princess no one else wants?

           Bargtn hadn’t known there were princesses that no one was interested in questing for or paying a ransom to rescue.  Just his luck, to get stuck with the seventh daughter of a penniless king. How was he supposed to show off his valor and success now?  His mother had always been careful about reminding him how a dragon’s hoard reflected his character—treasure from placating bribes and gifts are testaments to a dragon’s fearsomeness.  A few singed coats of armor hung in an entrance hall will always look impressive to visitors.  

           Princesses are a different matter.  They’re annoying and hard to feed, and in and of themselves, have very little redeeming value.

           “You can’t even hunt for yourself,” he grumbled at his captive after the third week without any sign she would be leaving his company.  He still couldn’t believe humans actually had to eat every day.

           “If I could, I’d certainly pick prey that was more edible than this.”

           Bargtn wasn’t sure if he should be thankful that at least she wasn’t boring or peeved that her responses were so bratty.  He huffed in frustration, allowing small spurts of flame to rise in his nostrils.  The girl didn’t even flinch as she had when he’d first taken her; she just picked at a gash in the sleeve of her gown and stared disdainfully at the charred ox he’d brought for her midday meal.  I am a failure.

           He flopped down on the cave floor; the princess’s disgruntlement was audible as she jumped to avoid his tail.

           “You’re pathetic,” she said.

           “What would you expect of a dragon who can’t even properly ransom a princess?” He did not bury his face in his paws soon enough to miss her eyes roll.

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The Occasion of Sin

This little stand-alone fic is a missing scene from Outlander book 1, set in Leoch after Jamie and Claire were married. It’s my explanation as to why Laoghaire left the ill wish beneath Claire’s pillow. Warning: It has approximately no redeeming value, and is purely an excuse to write Drunk Claire, Horny Jamie, and smut. Plus bonus Jealous Laoghaire.


We were drunk on Colum’s Rhenish. Or rather, I was drunk on Colum’s Rhenish. Jamie had only had ale at dinner, and was tipsy at worst, while the Mackenzie had plied me with glass after glass of his potent alcohol. I only realized sometime during my third glass, when he asked me all too casually about my parentage, that he still wondered whether I was a spy and hoped I was drunk enough to loosen my tongue. Now that I was Jamie’s wife, I was technically related by marriage, but our rushed and unexpected nuptials had done little to erase his suspicion. Nor did my arrest and capture by Jack Randall. While Dougal seemed convinced of my innocence, having seen firsthand the bruises that resulted from my encounters with the Captain, his brother was not. I could hardly blame him. I couldn’t be entirely honest with him, though I was hardly the threat he imagined me to be. But though I couldn’t tell him everything about me, I happily disclosed everything I remembered about Randall and Fort William.

As I took another sip, I glanced over at my new groom, who was deep in conversation with Alec and Murtagh. I didn’t know what they were talking about, nor did I care. I was entranced by the planes of Jamie’s face in the firelight, the defined jawline, the sparkling blue eyes, the flame of his hair. My attraction to him was undeniable. It had started earlier than I was willing to admit, and had only gotten stronger as I knew him better. Between his exuberant love making and the gradual, sincere opening of his heart, I was becoming quickly enamored of my young husband. He broke out in a gale of startled laughter at something Murtagh said, and I found myself involuntarily smiling at him. He caught me watching and gave me one of his solemn, owlish attempts at a wink.

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A while back, I was pondering Peeta’s parents, which led to me more fully imagining Peeta’s mother’s personality. This is just my headcanon, but I thought I’d share it.

Peeta’s mom is pretty terrible, so I started wondering what Peeta’s dad could have possibly seen in her. Surely there had to be something, right? Some redeeming value. 

I asked myself, What qualities cause people to overlook horrible character flaws in others? The first answer I came up with was good looks. Maybe it was just that simple; the great beauty Peeta’s dad had wanted to marry chose someone else, so he found the next prettiest girl. But that idea bored me.

The next idea I had was humor, and this idea instantly grabbed me. So many times we hear (or say) something like “Yeah, he can be a total jerk, but he is really funny.” We’re willing to forgive a lot when it comes to people who can make us laugh.

I also like the idea that Peeta could have gotten an important piece of his personality from his mom, awful as she could be. Her example helped Peeta develop his humor, skill with words, and ability to read people. Peeta tried to use these skills in kind ways, though, while his mother had far less of a problem putting someone down to get a laugh.

I imagine Mrs. Mellark was often a lot of fun, and Peeta enjoyed making jokes with her. Other times, however, something would set off her temper and she’d be cruel, either verbally or physically. If she was just mean all time, Peeta would become desensitized to it. It would be more hurtful if she shifted unpredictably between fun and mean. Then there would be those common moments when she would be funny and mean at the same time. I can see her making a cutting joke about someone and Peeta having to choose between laughing along to avoid her turning onto him, defending the target of the joke, or using humor himself to redirect the conversation.

This headcanon helps me make sense of Peeta’s statement that his mother told him Katniss might win the Hunger Games “as if to cheer [him] up.” I always wondered how in the world she could think that might cheer him up, or else how she could be so rude to her own son whom she would probably never see again. Maybe she said it as a joke, and that’s why Peeta said it was supposed to cheer him up. She was in this super uncomfortable emotional situation, and tried to lighten the mood with an incredibly inappropriate and insensitive wisecrack. Jokesters often make this mistake, though rarely to this degree of wrongness, fortunately.

“The 100 is becoming unwatchable”

Read full article HERE

“At this point The 100 is unwatchable. They’ve killed off a queer woman and a man of color and villainized all the powerful men of color. They’ve played the sexual assault of a male character as an amusing beat and piled garbage heaps of suffering on everyone, creating a suffocatingly hopeless atmosphere. The show is nothing but misery porn, attempting to showcase “shocking” moments of brutality as it chases critical acclaim for being willing to Go There. It’s dark for darkness’ sake with no overarching redeeming value. It’s not even successfully exploring its previous quandaries about the morality of survival as a primary goal or value, instead simply resorting to stark images of senseless murder in order to fulfill some kind of grimdark quota.

Some people may be able to watch a show where people simply endure suffering for an hour, but I can’t. Life is hard enough. The 100 at least used to have its characters grope towards the concept that “life should be about more than just surviving.” But now it doesn’t even have that. Everyone is in pain, happiness is fleeting at best, and goodness only comes with the most extreme costs, if it comes at all. No thanks.”

An accurate portrayal of an “argument” in the SAO tag based on what I’ve seen

SAO Hatedom: “We demand you accept our negative opinions.”

Most of the SAO Fandom on tumblr: “Okay, fine. Just stop being insensitive towards those that like it, and you should know by now how annoying it is for us to see a constant stream of hatred in the tags of an anime we like so much, especially when some of your reasons for hating it end up being for factually wrong reasons. It’s totally fine not to like it. Just stop being intolerant of our opinions.”

*A few days pass*

SAO Hatedom: “SAO is trash, and those that like it are toxic neckbeard weeaboos that have shit taste in anime. Only immature 12 year-old kids would find any redeeming value in it.”

—————————————————————————

Who are the insensitive people here that are acting immature? Because it certainly isn’t the fans of the series…

So Good

This is what we who’ve been around the fanfiction world for a decade or two like to call a PWP - or “Plot? What Plot?” - piece. I first encountered the term in the X-Files fandom, but God help me I’m sure it exists elsewhere.

There is no plot to this. It’s just gratuitous smut with little (if any) redeeming literary value. Elements were requested from various people on twitter (you know who you are and I’m not going to call you out for your depravity ::insert winky face here::).

I’m gonna say this REAL LOUD FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK. If you’re offended by RPF smut, don’t click the read more link. Do yourself a favor and just move on. I did not tag this the way I normally would, because frankly I don’t care to have an exploding inbox of “oh my God you have no respect” blah blah blah and the other crap people usually get for writing RPF smut (and not just for this fandom). I’ll say it again, as I’ve said before: I write this stuff as an exercise to get out of my comfort zone. I’m not an erotica writer. I much prefer the cute, schmoopy, romantic bologna that is rife with symbolism and subtext. Or is just cute (see “Scenes from a Relationship”). This is hard for me to write. That’s why I write it. You don’t get better at a skill unless you challenge yourself; so I challenge myself with these pieces.

If you’ll notice, I didn’t use anyone’s name in this fic, or any truly identifying characteristics. It’s all “he” and “she”, so if you want to sub in a different couple (real or fictional) - GO FOR IT. I will not stop you, and I actually encourage it. Whatever gets your rocks off, folks. You do you.

If the (intensely long) preamble hasn’t scared you off, click the read more link to read - just don’t say I didn’t warn you.

So Good
Rating: The NC-17iest of NC-17.

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1.21 An Apple as Red as Blood

“Rotten to the core.”

I find it really interesting that one of Regina’s fears is to be thought of as without any redeeming value.  The apple, and her, rotten to the core.  Does she think she is irredeemable at this point?  Does she want to be redeemed?  Is she herself confused?