False News Coverage About Trump In 2016_The Boost of a Blemish_10 Days to Mindfulness_Mother Bother
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False News Coverage About Trump In 2016
Fake news is not a new phenomenon, and it has been around since news became a concept 500 years ago with the invention of print—much longer than verified, "objective" news, which emerged in force more than a century ago. This type of misinformation has existed for many years, and it is also sensationalist and designed to inflame passions and provoke violence.On Easter Sunday, 1475, a two ½-year-old child went missing in Trent, Italy. In a series of sermons, Franciscan preacher Bernardina da Feltre claimed that the Jewish community had murdered the child, draining his blood and drinking it to ...
The Boost of a Blemish
Taberdon is a relatively different town when compared to its neighbors. Many of whom are bustling, suburban metropolises, steamrolling asphalt over any traces of green acreage or historical landmarks. If by chance, dazed commuters hurriedly speeding from one town to the next, happen to drive through Taberdon, they would have a brief repast to travel back in time. The colonial roots rise up and the antiquated houses, which now serve as bed and breakfasts and various offices greet these weary travelers (if only for a moment), are quickly left behind amidst their dust and exhaust as they are ...
10 Days to Mindfulness
Day one: finding your breath.“Take a moment to listen to your breathing,” the recording of Dr. McCourt said, through the car’s speakers. “Don’t try to control it, just feel the air as it enters and exits your nose.”Garry slammed his brakes and his horn. Just like the driver ahead. Just like the driver behind.“Stop fucking honking at me asswipe!” he screamed over his shoulder. He could see the driver behind him, screaming himself red. Look at this guy! What an idiot.Somewhere a light turned green. All the cars lurched forward a metre and then slammed their brakes again. “Move! Move! MOVE!”Thera...
Mother Bother & Baby Booties
[content warning: death] Sarah sat in a powder blue wingchair that matched the color of the walls, bouncing the one-month-old Noah on her knee, looking into his scrunched red face. The lamp on the nightstand spilled soft light onto the block-color carpet, and illuminated the white cloth clouds swaying above the crib. She gently fought Noah’s squirming legs and pulled the knitted booties from his feet, revealing pink splotches on his wriggling toes. She tugged the booties off and tossed them onto the floor. A wave of warmth pushed behind her face, but she exaggerated her smile. A tremble threat...