https://x.com/JoyceCarolOates/status/1745569167556669786
hmm. what do you think happens to the widows of billionaires & millionaires in the US? the poorhouse?
— Joyce Carol Oates (@JoyceCarolOates) January 11, 2024
& when is an "orphan" no longer a ward of the state?
there is even a considerable difference between prisoners in medium & maximum facilities.
in short, stereotypical thinking. https://t.co/B3nM7Mmoje
@Android_18 standing up to fat cat black widows faking their plight for sympathy
.webp?h=8 "Merry Fistmas!")
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The conversation ultimately takes you to this kickass headline
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all organs wtf
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"heres your family members skin"
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Is this news?
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I clicked through like twice before getting bored, awesome that it's about good boys being abused in gaol
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If you remove "prisoners" then this guy has a point: scripture specifically states that there's a society-level duty to care for the welfare of orphans and windows (Exodus 22, Leviticus 14, Deuteronomy 24, Isaiah 1 23, etc.). Moses Maimonides and Moses Nachmanides argue that this extends even to widows of wealthy men. If you claim to be a Christian who derives ethical values from the bible, it's pretty hard to argue for Oates' position.
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Oates is being actively anti-bible here + in followup posts. Also, I think there's a bible bot who will respond to Hebrews 13:3
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You will never be a real imposter. You have no sabotage, you have no vent, you have no kill button. You are a noob crewmate twisted by sus and amogus into a crude mockery of Among Us's perfection.
All the “Red sus” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back impostors and crew mates alike mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “crew mates ” laugh at your ghoulish appearance behind sabotaged doors.
Impostors are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed impostors to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even transimpostors who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to an impostor. Your bone structure is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a drunk impostor home with you, he'll turn tail and bolt the second he gets a whiff of your diseased, infected User Interface.
You will never be sus. You wrench out a fake act of suspicion every single morning and tell yourself it's going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the tasks piling up creeping up like weeds, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.
Eventually it'll be too much to bear - you'll buy a rope, do your tasks, eject yourself from the Skeld, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your crewmates will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They'll bury you with a headstone marked with your birth occupation, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a crew mate is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a single bone that is unmistakably a crewmate's.
This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back
Snapshots:
ghostarchive.org
archive.org
archive.ph (click to archive)
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