( via / via )

Better to Die in Iran.

"Ballad of the Trees and the Master

Into the woods my Master went,
   Clean forspent, forspent.
Into the woods my Master came,
   Forspent with love and shame.
But the olives they were not blind to Him,
The little gray leaves were kind to Him:
The thorn-tree had a mind to Him
   When into the woods He came.

Out of the woods my Master went,
   And He was well content.
Out of the woods my Master came,
   Content with death and shame.
When Death and Shame would woo Him last,
From under the trees they drew Him last:
’Twas on a tree they slew Him — last
When out of the woods He came."

—Sidney Lanier via via @isabelchenot

Mother with two Children.

"I asked A.I. to complete my novel using my own writing style and it did my laundry, went shopping, cleaned the kitchen and spent the rest of the day dicking around online." —@thewritertype.bsky.social

He is Not Worth This, America.