I love that the Loki fandom has transformed from 14 year old girls thirsting over Tom Hiddleston to lesbians in their 20s just relating to his chaotic neutral bullshit
Bold of you to act like that’s not the same people but older and gayer.
I love that the Loki fandom has transformed from 14 year old girls thirsting over Tom Hiddleston to lesbians in their 20s just relating to his chaotic neutral bullshit
Bold of you to act like that’s not the same people but older and gayer.
But they aren’t documented so they wouldn’t be pa…..nvm
This is a huge misconception for regular Americans. When the government uses the phrase “undocumented” they’re using it incorrectly because if they were truly undocumented then they would’ve be in system. However these immigrants are in the system and they pay taxes, file tax returns and get no benefits that citizens and legal residents get. They also get to see ICE showing up at their doors because the government has their addresses. Fun fact. “Undocumented” workers pays $12 billion dollars every year in taxes. https://www.google.com/amp/www.forbes.com/sites/niallmccarthy/2016/10/06/how-much-tax-do-americas-undocumented-immigrants-actually-pay-infographic/amp/
Reblogging for info.
“Undocumented” just means “without papers,” i.e. a social security card, valid visa, etc. They’re still on databases and whatnot, they just don’t have the documentation that allows them to reap the benefits.
so if it didn’t click- the government is aware of their presence and gladly taking their money under the table while simultaneously promoting the idea that undocumented people are a threat and encouraging hatred and distrust of them
it’s super messed up, literally the scheme of an evil villain, and it’s really happening
🗣 undocumented immigrants in Los Angeles contribute more to the GDP than the state of Montana and like 5 other states
Always so helpful, overly cheery, trying to please everyone, hoping to convince them that you’re not just a burden to your father and your world.
actually because i hate myself im gonna write one last hurrah for the magisterium ao3 tag
first day of the semester: this isn’t so bad! maybe i actually won’t be an absolute mess this time around.
third day of the semester:

*sneaking through a galra base*
Lance: So Shiro does this make us secret... GAYgents?
Shiro: More like GAY GENTS.
Both: *raucous laughter*
Galra: There they are!
Both: Shit...
Okay, it’s official. I’ve found my favourite historical anecdote of all time.
So in ancient Rome they had this tradition where they had to consult the gods and check they had divine approval before they went into battle. They did this by bringing forth a flock of sacred chickens and throwing grain at them. Their behaviour would then determine whether or not the gods were on your side. If the hens didn’t eat or wouldn’t leave their cage, it was a Bad Omen and you had to postpone battle and ask again the next day. If the chickens ate happily it was a Good Omen and you could go and chop up some Gauls or Carthaginians or whoever you happened to be fighting.
Now, there are lots of little stories about these chickens, but I just found one I hadn’t seen before. In 137 BC, the consul C. Hostilius Mancinus tried to take auspices before battle, but:
pulli cavea emissi in proximam silvam fugerunt summaque diligentia quaesiti reperiri nequiverunt
the chickens once released from their cage fled into a nearby wood and even though they were sought with the greatest diligence, they could not be recovered.
Can you fucking believe that. Can you actually believe that happened. The Romans have a reputation for being so stern and sensible and stoic and that happened. Like… everyone’s ready for battle, so you turn to your assistant and say “BRING FORTH THE CHICKENS” and you throw down the grain and open up their cage and the chickens just. run. they fucking run. those tiny velociraptor bastards abscond screaming into the woods like there’s no tomorrow. Blinking in disbelief, you send soldiers into the woods to recover them but those feathered bandits are gone. Vanished. The gods have deserted you. You’re beating bushes and following the sounds of triumphant clucks. The soldiers are frantic. The chickens are gone.
He lost the battle. It was a Bad Omen.
That sounds like the ultimate Bad Omen like at that point you go home and start drawing up an armistice bc the gods told you to go fuck yourself with chickens
That’s… pretty much what happened. The chicken omen, along with a few other Bad Omens, resulted in:
infelici pugna, turpi foedere, deditione funesta
“a lost battle, a shameful peace treaty, and a calamitous handover.”
so yeah, he lost the battle and had to go home and sign an embarrassing peace treaty that the Romans complained about years later, and when they talk about him they curse him for his praecipitem audaciam - “reckless audacity” - and vesana perseverantia “insane obstinacy” because NONE OF THIS WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF YOU’D LISTENED TO THE CHICKENS AND POSTPONED BATTLE LIKE THEY TOLD YOU.
Don’t forget naval commander Claudius Pulcher, whose sacred chickens refused to eat anything before the battle of Drepana. He tossed the chickens overboard, saying if they won’t eat, then let them drink, and went into battle where he promptly lost almost all of his ships and crew. I forget if he died or returned to Rome in disgrace, but it was a freaking disaster and the sacred chickens called it.