Independent: “Heightened scrutiny into judge’s behaviour follows high-profile case intertwining issues of white vigilantism, the Second Amendment and criminal justice”
kanjibytes: The verdict isn't even in and already the woke media are desperate to condemn Rittenhouse. Or if not him then attempt to discredit the Judge.
Guardian: Kyle Rittenhouse judge in spotlight after angry reprimand of prosecution
r/AskEasternEurope is the community and I’d be very happy if you came and join over there. The sub was just created, but I hope to create a fun and open community to learn more about this part of Europe.
It's just so close to the "Theory" colour. Can it be made a darker tone or something? Or maybe brown?
Why is it so similar to the colour of the Theory flair? Why can't it be a colour we haven't done yet like dark green, or white, or something?
Trouble is, their flair colours are so similar, and their length of words are so similar that when scanning through, they just register the same.
“Human knowledge is small. Universe vast. Mystery infinite. My gods were true before they were stolen and used against us. They are still true. And will be true long after we are food for the—” He freezes as he sees the walnut shells around my feet. His eyes flare wide and he grabs me, manhandling his fingers down my throat. I fight against him until I sick up all over his chest. I shove him and push too hard with my new leg, flying backward into the wall. I hit my spine on something sharp and hard.
“What the hell!” I gasp.
“You ate from my bag.”
“I’ll buy you another walnut, asshole.” I spit the bile out and wipe it out of my goatee. “Jove on high. Who does that!”
“Walnut?” He squints at me. “What is walnut, jackass? These spirit berries from home. These for shaman only.”
I squint. “I thought spirit berries were berries…”
“No!”
“Oh, well…” I hiccup. “What’s spirit berries do?”
“To see spirits and hear gods.”
“Literally?” He’s threading his hands through his beard in worry. It’s some sort of hallucinogen. That’s about all I know. I look at my hands. Are they vibrating? The roof of my mouth tastes like chalk and asparagus and ice cream. “Will I die?”
He shrugs. “We will see!”
