Cool there’s been asbestos in Johnson & Johnson baby powder this whole time and they have been aware of it for decades and done nothing
@laeffy yeah you uh. Need to stop doing that immediately and maybe go to the doctor to make sure you don’t have mesothelioma
this is so fucking sick
FYI, this applies to talc & talc-based powders / body products in general— J&J knew about this for decades because talc & asbestos occur together naturally (the minerals literally grow together in nature, have similar compositions, and are / were mined together), and they’re difficult to cleanly filter out from each other.
It’s old knowledge that, unless you’re involved in mining, mineralogy, or occupational health & safety, has been deliberately buried from both the public’s and regulators’ knowledge.
CNBC’s article + their writeup on the Reuters report revealing J&J’s cover-ups go into more detail on their corporate liability and the impact of J&J’s products specifically…
…But I cannot overstate that people’s best option right now is to look for products in general that do not contain talc at all, regardless of the manufacturer, and to be vigilant in seeking appropriate healthcare (and/or legal action if required) if symptoms arise.
This goes for body use (diaper powder, chafing powder— this is where the cases of ovarian cancer are coming from), for any use where powder may be inhaled (hair, face), or will have prolonged exposure to mucus membranes (eye makeup, bath bombs, etc.).
J&J are not the only ones who have covered this data up, and companies that aren’t sued will absolutely continue to do so. Be safe & be vigilant.
Heres the thing you gotta understand about statistics.
“Increases your chances by 80%” does not mean “there is now an 80% chance”.
If your chances were previously 10%, your chances are now 18%, not 90%.
if your chances were roughly 1%, they’re now just slightly less than 2%.
thats how that works.
Wow I don’t understand math at all
‘if you have a baby after 35, the chance of deformities goes up by 100%’ is a line I hear alot.
It goes up from .5% to 1%
Remember, you multiply the percentages, not add them.
10 x 80% = 8. (80% = 0.8) Add to the original 10 and you get 18.
1 x 80% = 0.8, which added to the original 1 is 1.8.
If something claims that your chances go up or down by a certain percent without telling you what your original chances were, be wary. It’s likely trying to play on the general population’s misunderstanding of percents.
The
two of them – the monster learning to be a man in a heavy coat that
hid his lopsided and muscular figure from the view of those whose
would have their most vicious aspects shown to the world if they saw
him too clearly, and the hunter in an inexplicably adorable sweater
so overstuffed it was making her waddle around like a wooly snowman –
wandered into one of the more run down parts of town. This was
honestly a bit hard to make as a judgement call, since their town
hadn’t been doing so hot in a long time.
The
big, lumpy shamble-man had been sincerely worried he was the fault of
that, though he had a very difficult time explaining to her why he
should think so; he struggled to put some very complicated ideas into
words when speaking aloud was difficult for him; he said some things
about fire within and the world burned with purifying force and
things going wrong because of that, and some other stuff that really
didn’t make sense, especially not to him.
She
contented herself with soothing away his increasingly distressed
sputtering with soft, smooth pats on a shoulder larger than her
torso. Gradually, he quieted, and when they went onward, he silently
walked behind her as he explained that urban decay and gentrification
– together with rising rent rates and money being leached out of
anyone who could live there – was a force much nastier than anything
he had to live with.
She
knew the route well. The two of them came to a small home, a large
number of opulent dog houses in the yard looking a lot more tidy than
the house itself, and from the garbage spread around, the bones in
the yard and a large amount of stray cats apparently used to getting
food – or perhaps they were just free roaming pets – this was
something of a local party scene. The hunter knocked on the door.
Upon
the door there was a small sign, he observed. It looked something
like a diagonal line, slashed low upon a straight line, and laid over
this was an iron trinket in the shape of a solemn wolf’s head.
Marking
territory, she had said
earlier, and had added, Don’t
mess with their stuff.
Werewolves,
she had explained on the way, were chill. They weren’t compelled to
hurt humans like vampires were, and something that was part way
between a man and a wolf could have the very worst
aspects of both… but in her experience, they normally didn’t. As
long as you didn’t give the werewolves a reason to get irritated
with you, she had cautioned him, there wouldn’t be a problem.
He
wasn’t too sure what to expect when the door opened; perhaps an
incredibly hairy man like a dog on two legs? A wolf with thumbs? Or
perhaps a sort of mobile shag carpet. He didn’t expect to see a man
and a woman looming behind it, both of them astonishingly tall and
wide.
Both
of them immediately beamed with delight upon seeing the hunter, and
the man of the two – taller than the woman, his skin a deep brown and
his straight black hair falling down nearly to his elbows –
cheerfully swaggered forward and lifted her off the ground, his huge
arms barely working to pull her into a massive hug. “Li’l
sunshine!” he boomed, every word a short and sudden exclamation. “I
ain’t see you around here in forever!”
The
other werewolf, a voluptuous woman with skin the warm brown color of
good clay and rather broader even then the man, grinned in delight as
well. Over the hunter’s giggling complaints, she slouched on over
and gave her a hefty smack to the shoulder and leaned in for her own
hug. The hunter made a squeaking sound at this much muscle being
brought to bear on her. “Help?” the hunter squeaked.
“Suck
it up, buddy,” the second werewolf said, grinning toothily, all
full of mischief. Her teeth were long, pointed like canine fangs.
“This just what ya get for never dropping by!”
Both
of them hugged her extra hard, and she squeaked again, blushing
especially hard as both giants engulfed her in their muscular forms.
Her friend, still apparently not noticed, watched curiously. “Okay…”
she whimpered. “I’ll call more…!”
“Good
enough.” The larger of the two let her down with surprising
delicacy in someone that large and built pretty much like a truck
that ate other, weaker trucks. He turned and glanced at the patchwork
man, who froze.
The
expression looking at him wasn’t human at all, not even slightly.
It wasn’t cold – it was warm, like a fireplace set invitingly with
rugs to sit on – but it was different from human. It was too
direct, too straightforward, with none of the little self deceptions
or walls humans instinctively made in themselves. He’d seen dogs
give that kind of look, calmly look at you and think prey, friend or
threat and sort you into the proper category.
The
woman looked at him too, giving him the same exact look. Calm,
patient, and tense with potential activity. He had never felt the
inclination to flee from humans, but now his spine (well, at least
one of them) felt a cold shiver crawl up it. Like some kind of
unwanted insect with very cold feet.
Their
eyes did something strange. They turned bright yellow, the pupils
contracting, and it was the eyes of wolves looking at him, and they
didn’t just see him. They saw… what he was.
They
knew. The knowledge sank into him, certain and inexplicable, and he
didn’t know how he knew this, but it was clear all the same. There
was no hiding the truth of him from them. He wasn’t human, not like
how they appeared to be, and not like his hunter friend. He was a, an
abomination to the world.
Then
the man of the pair grinned, walking forward and hugging him too.
Though the patchman was much larger than him, towering even while
hunched over, he was still lifted high into the air like he was no
heavier than a child. “Any friend of little sunshine,” he said
gently. “Is a friend of mine!”
The
woman tilted her head, exactly like a dog that was up to something.
“And what’s your name?” she said, with surprising gentleness.
“Quilt,”
he said solemnly. He liked pretty things. Quilts were pretty. And you
made them, one bit at a time, slowly fashioning it into something
more complete and better than it was before. Like making yourself
into a man. This struck him as a good omen, perhaps.
She
considered this, and nodded. “Well, come on in.” She waved a hand
towards the door. “Mind the frame, big guy. Don’t hurt yourself!”
It
was a bit of a squeeze for him, and the inside of the house was not
very well maintained; not in the sense that they didn’t care, but
that they were too poor to afford treatments, and perhaps had better
things to do. A few cats prowled around, mewing with mild interest at
him and clawing at the legs of the two werewolves, even when one of
them openly descended to the floor, legs turning furry and clawed,
the whole body becoming more streamlined and sleek, jaw elongating
and teeth growing, and like water a man had become a massive wolf.
The
wolf led him into the living room, cats still doing their best to
annoy him, and in the living room, there was a couch. The room in
general looked horrifically trashed, and the couch had the worst of
it. It looked as though it had been torn in half and roughly put back
together… and judging from the broken shards on the window, someone
had tried to put it through the wall. Plaster had crumbled from those
walls in the shape of someone’s head, and not even remotely
human-like head at that.
On
the couch there were a few others. Three wolves of varying size,
color and shape, looking for all the world like dogs. One gave him a
cool look, sizing him up, another bounded straight up to him in a
challenging ‘COME AT ME BRO’ sort of way, and another completely
ignored him after a brief blink of acknowledgement. Nestled between
all of them was a girl that looked very much like the first werewolf
that had greeted them but rather smaller and very young, and
considered him with a neutral, even gloomy expression, and nodded
briefly at him. She returned to watching the television, which looked
like someone had tried to break it in half.
The
hunter came in after him, looking appalled. “What happened in
here!?”
“Bad
stuff,” the girl on the couch said, sighing.
The
big woman sighed, clapping the hunter on the shoulder. “We got hit
a few nights ago,” she said grimly. “This complete fu- uh.”
She stopped, the girl on the couch sitting there all innocent and
polite. “Bad guys came
out of nowhere and attacked us. Broke in, came right at us, tried to
kill us on the spot. Couple tried to drag Deppie out before we mauled
‘im good.” She indicated one of the wolf-shape werewolves, who
snorted irritably at that. “Scared the hell out of the cats, too.”
The
hunter considered this. “How many, exactly?” She said, carefully.
One
of the wolves went all fluid, jerkily reforming into the shape of an
absolutely massive woman almost as big as Quilt; hair grew thickly
from all over her body, not quite long enough to be fur
but very close to that, her teeth were long enough that a bite would
seriously rip up flesh, and her fingers bore long claws. Even her
face was only slightly human, the facial structure decidedly canid in
some small ways. “‘Bout a dozen,” she said casually, still
sitting the same exact way she had as a wolf. She spoke slowly, like
she had to weigh her words to come out of her transformed lips.
“Vampires?”
Quilt suggested. He wondered if there was a connection here.
The
big wolf on the floor, the same one who had hugged him, turned to
look at him inquisitively. Behind the hunter, the big werewolf lady
tilted her head as well. “What makes ya say that?” She asked.
“Um.
Uh…”
“It’s
fine, don’t worry about it. WAsn’t vampires that hit us.” She
frowned. “I don’t know what they were. They were…
they were…” Her face wrinkled into an irritated snarl. “I
don’t remember. It’s
like, looking at ‘em, hurt.”
“Clockwork,”
the girl on the couch said quietly. “Clicking hard, not remembering
why they were here. Forgetting why, all the time. Ripped out, twisted
around, sent our way.”
“Yes,”
the near-human shaped werewolf on the couch said, like this was a
regular sort of thing. “They were… weird. When they died, they
just faded away. And they felt all… confused, I guess.”
The
hunter sat down on the couch, with some space still left. “It was
feral vampires that attacked us,” she said grimly. “I was hoping
you guys might have heard something or been onto some kind of
conspiracy going on here.”
Quilt
thought, and he thought hard. It hurt a little. “We are attacked by
vampires, and these friends are attacked by… clockwork demons?”
he shook his head. “Is this… normal around here?”
“It
might be a coincidence,” the werewolf lady said, looking delighted
to be called his friend all the same. “But maybe not. Listen, I’m
waiting on a call from some friends at the freehold, they swear
they’re there’s something bad lurking around their place. Think
you guys could hang around, see if this is connected?”
Quilt
raised an oversized hand. “What’s a freehold?” he said
innocently.
There
was a long pause. “Wow. He’s new around here, isn’t he?” the
werewolf lady said, with affection.
if you are worried about me: please don’t be! i am actually doing pretty good. exciting things are happening! it’s just that coordinating my takeover of my sister’s space and a gauntlet of pre-end-of-the-year doctor stuff has been running me ragged. in a good way, mind you! i went in expecting a lecture from my obgyn and got a bunch of validation instead (which is a supreme rarity for the chronically ill tbh), and i’ve also started trying cbd oil (with no thc content, it is now legal in georgia as a supplement – the gov website for this is actually out of date lol, i’m going on my pain doc’s knowledge instead).
and so far, cbd oil is pretty nice!! it’s not a dramatic difference – my dad is very hopeful i might be able to entirely go off opioids and switch to cbd, and i’m a little more iffy. however using it so that my base is more of a 6-7 instead of an 8 is fucking wonderful, especially with the rainy weather we have been having. it’s also helped me sleep much much better, and it seems to make my muscles want to release a lot quicker in massage.
so my review so far is basically that cbd oil appears to make me do this
idk if that gif is gonna work but if it don’t, click that link, trust me. it’s a classic.
i am still kicking around and doing pretty ok! it’s just that unfortunately, good stuff happening takes spoons the same way neutral or bad stuff does, lol.
i’ll try to get updoots on where else to find me shortly. until then, please feel free to add me on discord, mutuals – calamityjanine#6649 . and if you want me to come join your discord server or group chat i’ll do my best! (just please don’t be offended if i largely lurk unless pinged lol)
I’m really glad to hear that you’re doing well, and doing better!! I’ve missed seeing you on my dash and I’m glad you’re spooning it up irl!!
I draw a lot of fanart and I just never post it because…….I’m embarrassed I draw fanart.
But… It’s 4am and I cant stop thinking about the extreme hyolingual apparatus that this guy must have.
For a creature to have a prehensile tongue of that size, inherently means that they are also going to have a massive hyoid that extends and wraps around neck/upper body. Maybe that’s why he has so much upper body mass. Underneath the superficial limb and chest muscle are large muscles associated with the hyoid.
The screencap at the very top is really interesting because it indicates that he has a very specific jaw structure found mostly in snakes.
Ok briefly to ramble about That Game Idea again cos its been kinda ages since i made any progress on it LOL
It started off as just a sort of art prompt i gave myself to practise gamemaking. “Design one small dungeon, fool around and see how fun you can make it”. But then the placeholder characters i was using kinda took on a personality of their own and sprouted a whole set of sassy banter and actual backstory behind how they got there. And then it became more of a challenge of trying to figure out how to convey all that plot and have a decent narrative arc within a small area and maybe 1 hour of gameplay. And i’ve stalled because i cant think of a good enough design for grandma but I STILL REALLY LIKE THIS IDEA AND REALLY WANNA KEEP WORKIN ON IT!!!
Ok so BASIC PREMISE: Some Characters Get Stuck In A Dungeon And Need To Find The Exit
But then i thought more about it and it developed into our sassy kid hero and their Cool Adventure Grandma! And a lil bat sidekick because we need some way to exposition about the dungeon, and also just Friendly Monsters Are Cute
Protagonist (maybe named Lock?) is a very trickstery mischievious adventure kid who should hopefully be fun to play cos they take very silly solutions to puzzles. Defining sentence is “I’m bored”! Sort of a tsundere character while not actually being stoic or grumpy? They avoid talking about their feelings by treating everything like a game and constantly seeking out distractions. But somewhere underneath that goofball exterior is a fragile kid who worries that nobody would ever really love a screwup like them, and doesnt know how to react to this new situation of a grandma that actually tries to connect with them. They’re so eager to distract themself with this adventure because a fairytale scenario is easier to defeat than an abstract sense that your new adoptive parent will leave you just like all the rest. A bad ending could even potentially be running away to “be the hero” fprever and leaving their nana behind, rather than risk trying to be a family and potentially failing…
The grandma (currently unnamed) is also currently undesigned AAAAA! But i’m starting to get a picture maybe of a quite tall gran who is very round and hugs. I think maybe she actually wears some sort of cliche jrpg barbarian armour, like you see this giant hulking doom knight and then they take off the helmet and its a sweet hugs gran! She’s a very kind and warm person but also sort of a giant badass who will do absolutely everything to protect her child. She’s sorta unflappable nd tends to shrug off just how badass she is as if its no big deal, just another duty of being a grandma. Gotta do the laundry, bake a pie and slay a dragon or two! During this dungeon she’s actually out of commission due to hurting her leg in the fall. Mostly just cos if you had her in your party the entire time she’d be overpowered, lol! There’s a lot of cool dungeon design potential on creating obstacles that are only obstacles because the player is young and small, amd it could add extra fun if grangran is recovered in the ending segments and you get to revisit the same areas and find new paths due to her help? And also bring her along for the final boss fights! Grangran the ultimate weapon of denouement! Also itd be a nice way to have a home base in the dungeon,its your campfire where nan is recovering and she can do crafting and healing and stuff. I feel like even when she’s injured she wouldnt be able to just sit back and not help, yknow? Oh,and also she’s not actually your biological relative, she was just a passing adventurer who befriended protagonist kid during one of her visits to their hometown. She’d tell tales of her stories and teach the kid how to read and bring back neat souveniers and generally be the parental figure they needed in their life. And when she found out their biological parents were abusive she decked them right in the jaw and rode off into the sunset with a newly adopted grandchild! Protag is still getting used to having a family that actually cares, and nan is feeling awkward not knowing how to bridge the gap between them. But really you need to have more confidence in yourself nan, you’re a badass who saved this kid and you only seem unapproachable and scary cos you were such a big tough mega hero!!! Alas it is not easy to become less cool!!
And then the bat friend (maybe Dennis?) is a little homunculus created to serve a dark sorcerer. Our heroes landing in the old ruin woke him up and he somehow managed to mistake Lock for the sorcerer and get all attatched! He’s constantly bouncing around all cute and happy to help “Master Lock”, i mean gosh i’ve been sleeping so long i’m totally behind schedule! Do you want tea? Crumpets? World domination? He’s very innocent and sweet and has never really experienced a real friendship before. And he’s quite shy and cowardly, bringing out the protagonist’s heroic side because they need to protect him from the other monsters bullying him. His biggest problem though is that he sees no value in himself and feels like he only exists to serve humans. He feels like he doesnt deserve to be a ‘friend’ so he needs to prove he’s useful as a ‘servant’… And he doesnt know why he’s still here if his master is dead…
So yeh its mostly just a story of a lil family coming together to famminate and also not get eaten by monsters in a dungeon. And also add some of those dungeon monsters to the family perhaps. And there might be a mystery to solve with this ye olde dark sorcerer perhaps. But mostly just Grandma Hugs: The Game~!
So a good design for the grandma is Real Important, yeyeye!! I need to try doodling more in the morn.
Is there a way in the game system you use to set up some kind of relationship meter for Gran and Dennis? That could serve as a way to both show how the family is groiwng closer and maybe serve as a way to unlock Grandma Powers of More Baking and Dennis getting bolder with using his powers!
as for grandma design, what if you used different shapes for each character? Dennis is really circular and rounded and orbular, Locke is pointy and triangular, and Garndma is boxy and square in her Cool Grandma Armor? then they’re all like contrasting each other!
One of the most useful things I’ve learned about recovering from trauma is that my decisions need to be judged according to the incomplete information that was available to me at the time.
So, say I’m deciding whether to eat chicken at a restaurant. All evidence is that it’s a good idea. I’m hungry for chicken, and I usually feel good after eating it.
I eat the chicken, and I get food poisoning. The resulting illness causes me to fall short of responsibilities, and creates numerous problems for me and the people who depend on me.
What happened?
Trauma brain says: “This happened because I am Bad At Making Decisions. If I had made The Right Decision and not eaten chicken, everything would have been fine.”
Recovery brain says, “According to the information that was available to me, the chicken was unlikely to make me sick. Eating chicken was a Good Decision with Bad Consequences. This happened to me because I had incomplete information.”
The “trauma brain” response makes all decisions really hard, because each decision involves the prospect of being judged by a future self that has more information.
“Should I buy the $2 mouse pad or the $3 mouse pad? If I buy the cheaper one and it doesn’t work well, it will be my own fault for not buying a better quality one…”
(Then I might end up paying myself $1-per-hour to agonize over which mouse pad to buy, which is probably an ACTUAL unwise course of action.)
But if I foster the “recovery brain” response, I can start to trust that my future self will judge my decisions kindly.
“If I buy the cheap mouse pad and it doesn’t work, then I only gambled $2 on it. If I buy the $3 one and even it doesn’t work, then I’ll have more closely guessed how much I need to pay for a mousepad of sufficient quality.”
And then later when the mousepad doesn’t work: “Well, that didn’t work. At least I made a decision. The outcome has given me more information about the options available to me going forward.”
(Meta level: Decisions you made prior to reading this post about how to treat yourself were probably good given the information you had access to about trauma and recovery!)
tl;dr: Bad results are not always evidence of bad decisions. Give yourself the benefit of the doubt about why you do what you do.
Heiss from Radiant Historia, demonstrating his right to not only bear arms but also to robot arms.
slides u a grandpa for safekeeping. he is probably up to something but he wants u to help.
Bunni reply: OH MY GOSH DID YOU DRAW THIS?? I love it so much!! You gave him such a great sassy grin! That’s a gramp who is definately up to no good but he’s just having such a great time doing it! So huggable you could never say no! Hell yeh Heiss i’ll go with you on some evil family adventures!!!! Man this rocks you shoulda posted it on your blog so i coulda signal boosted your awesome art skills OK I AM STILL GONNA SAY IT YO EVERYONE FOLLOW MY AMAZING FRIEND!!!
Oh also just to add that i like this interpretation of his hairstyle as a great way to mix the original game and remake versions! Heiss was one of the only people whose remake design was actually good, cos they just kept him the same but with a new outfit and covered up his widow’s peak. That always felt a bit dumb to me so i’m glad to see him in the stylish getup with his more gramply hair back! And you just made it look very stylish and swishy!
asldfka;jsdlfkaj THANK YOU!! im bglad you like it!!!
i’m not too confident on my art skills compared to my writing so i wasn’t sure about posting it on my blog but ill try it out now!! maybe it sound a little egotistic out loud, but i’m more confident on it when i slide it over to someone who i know will like it than just yeeting int into the world??
Look at all those guardian angels being there for lonely people. ❤
Perhaps horror and terror aren’t always the same thing, and darkness isn’t always indicative of harm.
The traveler in the tunnel groped his way forward with a hand against the wall, a chill creeping up his spine. The guardian, watching its brave trespasser stumble, lit a candle for the man to find: on the other side he’d be outside the spirit’s care, but now at least there would be a light to guide his way.
The man alone in empty rows of cubicles allowed himself to be taken advantage of by his employers. The resident spirit kept watch on its melancholy charge, encouraging him to leave by spreading a vague feeling of unease: endless mechanized work was not meant for mortals, whose lives pass by so quickly if they let themselves be stripped of joy.
The guardians kept a close eye on the young woman. She was blithely unaware of the unscrupulous fraternity boys who never overstayed their welcome in her apartment after a wild party: who, instead, always stumbled home to pass out on their own couches, and fell asleep to the vision of many eyes judging their guilty thoughts.
The boy liked to be alone. When his father was home it was never good, but once his family moved into their new place something crept through the darkness that was stronger than his father’s temper. It wasn’t long before his father stopped raising his voice and his fists, frightened by horrible dreams that left him drenched in sweat whenever he so much as thought about hurting his son. The boy slept soundly: he always felt safe for as long as he lived in that house.
The radio broadcaster had recently lost his husband. When he was at work the good memories felt close by, and some of the horror of those last days beside a hospital bed faded away. Sometimes, when the weight grew unbearable, he almost thought he felt a hand on his shoulder, a soft voice telling him he was never truly alone. His love was there. He would always be there, as long as he was needed.
The darkness watched out for the ones who couldn’t watch out for themselves.
Plot Designing 