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Oh boy....

The evening darkens over
After a day so bright
The windcapt waves discover
That wild will be the night.
There’s sound of distant thunder.

The latest sea-birds hover
Along the cliff’s sheer height;
As in the memory wander
Last flutterings of delight,
White wings lost on the white.

There’s not a ship in sight;
And as the sun goes under
Thick clouds conspire to cover
The moon that should rise yonder.
Thou art alone, fond lover.

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Link

So, you got my opinion on Heated Rivalry, but I gotta say, I will never not read fanfics structured like ongoing internet sagas.

Also, gotta love the one dude, BostonSportsBro69, who posts in both /r/relationship_advice and /r/hockey going around in /r/hockey saying "Uh, no, it's just normal sportsbro rival stuff, you're all reading way too much into this" ~~when~~ because he absolutely knows better. (I don't think he's supposed to be one of Ilya's teammates, just a fan.)

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And lemme tell you, my team picking was solely on the basis of "Are people in this team active" and "Do they have an open slot for me", because active team members send you more lives and you're more likely to win prizes in the team competitions, but most teams are 100% people who joined and never play.

But you can talk to each other, great, except that there's this one person who is very active and posts every single day about how they've changed the game so she can't win, she sucks, she is always stuck, she doesn't like it anymore, she's gonna quit - this all prompts a flood of "Oh, don't go, please stay" responses, and I can't help but wonder if that's the sole reason she posts like this.

One day I'm going to tell her that if she really feels that way she ought to quit, or at least shut up about it, because her posts bring my enjoyment of the game way down. Don't know what sort of response I'll get from everybody else who isn't her, but I can't be the only one who's itching to say it.

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and then read the books, and I gotta say, I think the author and I fundamentally disagree on a key principle of storywriting.

I believe, strongly, that if you have two viewpoint characters, or two love interests, or two viewpoint characters who are also love interests, then they need to have balanced problems - and, ideally, the interaction of those two characters should affect those problems in some way - by making them realize that they have problems, by making them realize that those problems aren't so bad, by solving or exacerbating those problems - who knows? But they need to start off with the same level of problems, and then by the end of the plot those problems need to have been changed in some way.

And pretty much that never happens in these books. Just look at the two that make up the TV show. We have two couples.

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This opinion on problems was brought to you by: The Overnight Shift! I have so much time on my hands, guys!

Why am I better than all other men?
I do not have to prove it. I admit it.
Here is the nail, and I am here to hit it.
A blow that glances somewhat now and then.
With pure intention I take up the pen
That writes the truth, if any ever writ it.
Venom is vulgar. I decline to spit it.
Still if I must—Well, nine times out of ten

I do. I am tired. That book must be a bore.
Jones wrote it. He was rude to me at lunch,
And nobody quite likes him in our bunch.
Smith said he liked my novel. In my bones
I feel that I like Smith. But more and more
My conscience tells me to eviscerate Jones.

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The 1916 (Olympic) games were cancelled due to an international dispute occurring during that year

A dispute that left millions dead, sure. Not how I'd describe WWI, but okay.

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How much do you love me, a million bushels?
Oh, a lot more than that, Oh, a lot more.

And tomorrow maybe only half a bushel?
Tomorrow maybe not even a half a bushel.

And is this your heart arithmetic?
This is the way the wind measures the weather.

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Link

What the hell sort of question is that? Of course I'd pay up! I have money, pride, and my teeth, and of the three, I can least afford to lose the last. Wouldn't almost anybody submit to the shakedown? That's how protection rackets work, after all - everybody does the same math and comes to the same conclusion as I just did.

(Of course, the context was "I think this company was rude to me over the phone, therefore I decided to live without hot water and heating because I have my principles" so, you know, I guess we have different approaches to life?)

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( Cut for poop )

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(Mission Rejected, if you're curious)

and they took the time at the start of the most recent episode to talk about a charity in Minnesota that will bring food safely to people. I don't have the name of the charity, it's not on their website right now.

But what really struck me is that they spent a few minutes on this and never once mentioned or even alluded to why some people might need food to be delivered safely.

I'm not sure what I think about that, but I'm sure I don't like it much.

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Or is something up with the create entry page?

Watch on YouTube

You can watch episode 1 here.

Also, since I have a few videos:

( Hobey Baker, probably gay hockey player from the early 20th century )

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( Curling and all the nitty-gritty )

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The wave yearns at the cliff foot: its pale arms
Reach upward and relapse, like down-dropped hands;
The baffled tides slip backward evermore,
And a long sighing murmurs round the sands . . .

My heart is as the wave that lifts and falls:
Tall is the cliff—oh! tall as that dim star
That crowns its summit hidden in a cloud—
Tall as the dark and holy heavens are.

The sad strange wreckage of full many ships
Burdens the bitter waters’ ebb and flow:
Gold diadems, like slowly falling flames,
Lighten the restless emerald gulfs below;

And withered blossoms float, and silken webs,
And pallid faces framed in wide-spread hair,
And bubble-globes that seethe with peacock hues,
And jewelled hands, half-open, cold and fair.

Sea creatures move beneath: their swift sleek touch
Begets sweet madness and unworthy fire—
Scaled women—triton-things, whose dark seal eyes
Are hot and bloodshot with a man’s desire.

Their strange arms clasp: the sea-pulse in their veins
Beats like the surf of the immortal sea—
Strong, glad and soulless: elemental joys
Bathe with green flame the sinking soul of me.

Downward and down—to passionate purple looms,
Athrill with thought-free, blurred, insatiate life,
Where the slow-throbbing sea-flow sways like weed
Dim figures blended in an amorous strife—

I am enclasped, I sink; but the wave lifts,
With all its freight of treasure and of death,
In sullen foamless yearning towards the height
Where the star burns above the vapour-wreath;

And a deep sob goes up, and all the caves
Are filled with mourning and a sorrow-sound.
The green fire fades: I rise: I see the star—
Gone are the triton arms that clipped me round.

Hope beats like some lost bird against the cliff—
The granite cliff above the burdened wave,
Whose fleeting riches are more desolate
Than gems dust-mingled in a nameless grave . . .

When all the wordless thirsts of Time are slaked,
And all Earth’s yearning hungers sweetly fed,
And the Sea’s grief is stilled, and the Wind’s cry,
And Day and Night clasp on one glowing bed—

Oh! in that hour shall clay and flame be blent—
Love find its perfect lover, breast on breast—
When dream and dreamer at the last are one,
And joy is folded in the arms of jest.

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What witchcraft is this?

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That's a pretty good show, although she ruined it by guessing all the plot twists.

( Teensy spoiler for second season )

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correcting things people think they know about history, you'll soon learn that a perennial topic is "Yes, people drank water in Medieval Europe", followed closely by "They took baths too!" And yeah, they drank a lot of ale and wine... but people today drink a lot of alcohol too, and for much the same reason - we like it! Or if we don't like alcohol we like soda, or coffee, or tea.

People in the middle ages did understand that some water was safe to drink and some wasn't, and they went through considerable lengths to bring clean, potable water to their towns. Not that most of them lived in towns, but in this case, living further from town is a bonus. Less people = less poop.

(Also, while there are other waterborne illnesses, cholera in particular didn't leave India until the 1800s, well into the modern period. I'm not sure it even existed prior to 1817. Please stop telling me earnestly about Snow and cholera in London. Totally different time period, totally different situation, totally irrelevant.)

Anyway, this just popped up on my feed yet again today, and it suddenly sparked a question in my head:

If people supposedly didn't drink water because they didn't want to get sick, what did their animals drink? Surely nobody thinks that medieval peasants were giving their cows and pigs ale? Or do they think that non-human animals are so hardy that they aren't at risk of waterborne illness? Or maybe that people just didn't care if their animals died, like every sheep isn't wealth, or at least a source of food and wool?

(I'm willing to bet that nobody has an answer to this question, but that if I ever ask them, should it come up in the wild, they'll be annoyed at me!)

when all you say is "Listen, it's not true that you can't know how to pronounce an unfamiliar word by looking at it, there are rules that will work with a high degree of accuracy".

And every time, sooner or later somebody or other will condescend to tell me that if I'd only phrased it better, they would've listened to what I was saying. It's not the message, it's the way I said that that caused these people to think I was calling them stupid.

None of those people will ever give me the magically better words they think will remedy this problem, though I do ask every single time people suggest it to me, and honestly, I don't think there are any. I think the problem is that people don't want to hear the message at all. If you say "You ought to have been taught these rules in childhood" then they feel ashamed for not knowing something basic and obvious, and even if you don't say it but just mention that rules exist they feel stupid, and then either way they blame you for making them feel bad.

And since that's the case, I don't really see the need to trouble myself too much over my phrasing. Actually, bizarre as it is, I've found that trying harder to be bland and conciliatory is likely to make the situation worse.

But I may as well open it up to other people. Do you have the magic words?

(Note: I don't have any spelling or reading curriculum that are designed for self-study by adult learners who can already read and write pretty well but who struggle with spelling or sounding out unfamiliar words and claim to believe there is no method other than to guess or else memorize each word as an arbitrary collection of letters, which is most of the people I encounter in this situation because, of course, we're all posting online. However, if you're working with somebody to remediate spelling on a budget, I can recommend starting, if they have no signs of ADHD or dyslexia, with Spalding - making the modifications here - and/or Apples and Pears if they do, and then, if they still need help, moving on to Megawords. Those are highly scripted and, importantly - easy to buy on the cheap. I really don't love Spalding, I found it way too front-loaded for ADHD, plus Wanda Spalding had a lot of little personal peeves she built in if you don't use the modifications I suggested, but it's hands-down the cheapest Orton-Gillingham program you'll find for teaching reading and spelling together. Apples and Pears has an associated reading curriculum that probably also is good, but E only needed help in spelling, so I don't know.)

and every day when E leaves she bolts up to my room and burrows under my covers for a few hours until she feels prepared to cope with the day.

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and god, I love her so much. She truly is a sweet and gentle kitty.

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Do you know how hard it even is to get people to protest in this sort of crappy weather? It's cold out!

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And more than a little dystopian. It may be time to leave entirely.

The plot is picking up and I have no idea where it's going!

Also, it is absolutely impossible to track down the music for that show. There was one song I liked, so I tried to look it up. No dice. I eventually gave in and searched up "Killjoys soundtrack" and then, armed with the song title and artist name, tried again. Still no luck. I did find an entirely different song that's apparently written by somebody with no internet presence at all. If it wasn't apparently their only song I'd suspect AI. That picture is AI, though, has "artificial" written all over it, in illegible text. Song's not too uncatchy, but - I honestly don't know why the music in Killjoys is so hard to find.

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And not, apparently, legitimately going anywhere?

Guys, you need to tell me these things! Now where am I supposed to pirate this one from? (I mean, uh, legally obtain it - oh, fuck it.)

If you're actually writing for children, especially young children, then I guess you don't want to scare them off - but if you're writing for adolescents or adults you can afford to be honest.

So here's the thing. Every book or story in which a character gets glasses for the first time - or the second if their first pair is painfully out of date - emphasizes how clear everything is and how they can see so much detail that they had no idea they were missing. And yes, that's a thing. None of them point out that it's a thing that can be less "wondrous" and more "disorienting and distracting" until you've gotten used to seeing that much detail.

None of them mention that if your prescription is strong enough - especially if there's astigmatism involved - your perception will be wonky and you'll have a hard time judging how close and far things are for a day or two.

Definitely none of them mention that you will absolutely get eye strain every time you get a new prescription, and possibly headaches or nausea to accompany it. It goes away, again, in a day or two, but until it does you'll feel like you're cross-eyed at all times. (And with children, every year is a new prescription. They grow, which means their eyeballs grow, and just like that growth is unlikely to suddenly give them perfect vision if they already were nearsighted, it's also unlikely to keep them exactly where they were before.)

Absolutely none of them point out that if you've never worn glasses before you'll have to spend the aforementioned day or two learning how to not see the frames. This is also true if your old frames were much bigger than the new ones, but that, at least, is less likely to apply to children - their faces grow along with the rest of them, necessitating larger frames, so even if they choose a smaller overall style with the new pair the fact that it fits properly may even out.

Moving past the realm of accurate fiction writing, children really should have their first optometrist appointment, at the latest, in the summer before first grade (so, aged 5 or 6 years old). Ideally, they'll have it before they start school, at age 2 or 3, but you can't convince people on that point. They should have a new appointment every year until the age of 20 or so, or every two years if every year really is unfeasible, even if you don't think you see the signs of poor vision. They won't complain that they can't see, because they'll just assume that their vision is normal. This is true even if they wear glasses - you never notice how bad your eyes have gotten until you get a new prescription, and then it's like "whoa".

The screening done at school or at the doctor's office is imperfect at best. You really want the optometrist.

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Ms. Marcus says that an occasional poem is a poem
written about something
important
or special
that's gonna happen
or already did.
Think of a specific occasion, she says—and write about it.

Like what?! Lamont asks.
He's all slouched down in his seat.
I don't feel like writing about no occasion.

How about your birthday? Ms. Marcus says.
What about it? Just a birthday. Comes in June and it ain't
June, Lamont says. As a matter of fact,
he says, it's January and it's snowing.
Then his voice gets real low and he says
And when it's January and all cold like this
feels like June's a long, long ways away.

The whole class looks at Ms. Marcus.
Some of the kids are nodding.
Outside the sky looks like it's made out of metal
and the cold, cold air is rattling the windowpanes
and coming underneath them too.

I seen Lamont's coat.
It's gray and the sleeves are too short.
It's down but it looks like a lot of the feathers fell out
a long time ago.
Ms. Marcus got a nice coat.
It's down too but real puffy so
maybe when she's inside it
she can't even tell January from June.

Then write about January, Ms. Marcus says, that's
an occasion.
But she looks a little bit sad when she says it
Like she's sorry she ever brought the whole
occasional poem thing up.

I was gonna write about Mama's funeral
but Lamont and Ms. Marcus going back and forth
zapped all the ideas from my head.

I guess them arguing
on a Tuesday in January's an occasion
So I guess this is an occasional poem.

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Link

Every time I look at the news, it's something worse.

The Onion, strangely, decided against satire for this one and only reported the facts as they actually happened

No real symptoms, but I'm a little stuffy and super sleepy.

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That is not a sentence I want to read at any time in the morning.

(In celsius terms, it's -10 and feels like death.)

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Made dinner - left it home.

And there’s no delivery because of all this snow. Also, they’re nearly out of food.

Good thing I waited for the bus at the corner store - I have cheezits, coke, and a cupcake, a c food diet. (And in the morning I’ll eat some of their Cheerios!)

I nearly didn’t make it in. Couldn’t get a car, and my bus kept getting canceled, but finally one made it out of the terminal.

And posting is rapid. Don't you need a distraction?

Poll #34102 Snow

Open to: Registered Users, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 58

View Respondents

After the snow has fallen, sometimes it looks like more snow is falling when the wind blows it off of trees and roofs. Do you have a word or specific phrase for this?

View Answers

Yes, and I'll tell you in the comments
7 (13.0%)

No, but I've heard some people use a term which I'll tell you in the comments
1 (1.9%)

No
41 (75.9%)

No - I don't live where it snows and am unfamiliar with this phenomenon
5 (9.3%)

Clicky?

View Answers

CLICKY
43 (100.0%)

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I held the bannister and I got it

I sat down to look for it

I took it with me because I could not find it

Damn splinter!

Now, we don't have a coffee maker. We have a french press, and we have a pourover thinger, and no coffee maker. Electric coffee makers are roach magnets, and I will stand by that statement.

But the job has a coffee maker, a nice new model after the pot on the old one broke, and the lid on top opens to the left, which means you have to hold the coffee pot in your right hand if you want to pour the coffee into the machine. Also, all the measurement numbers on the coffee pot are only visible if you're holding the handle in your right hand.

And you may say this is petty, and it is - well, it's petty for me because I have two hands, I might well be more annoyed, and justifiably, if I was missing one! - but somebody made a choice to hinge the lid on the left instead of on the back, and somebody, maybe that same somebody, made a choice to only put numbers on one side of the handle instead of both. And they didn't have to make those choices, they could've made different choices that didn't screw me over personally, me and all the other lefties as well as approximately half of all people who don't have mobility in their right hand or don't have that hand at all*, and they chose poorly. Probably didn't even think it through even a tiny little bit.

* Wait, is this a valid assumption? Or are people more likely to be disabled on this side or that side?

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I am a knotted nebula—
a whirling flame
Shrieking aftire the endless darkness ...
I am the eternal center of gravity
and about me swing the crazy moons—
I am the thunder of rising suns,
the blaze of the zenith—
... the tremble of women’s bodies
in the arms of lovers ...
I sit on top of the Pole
Drunk with starry splendor
Shouting hozzanas at the Pleiades
... booting footballs at the moon—
I shall outlast the sun
and the moon
and the stars.…

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_Link

Watch on YouTube

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in which two teens independently fall into a toxic mud puddle and develop mind-reading abilities. Spoilers, they're not the only ones!

They're at a family reunion, and one person mentions that there have been a few breakins, how odd, because all the broken-in houses had security systems. And as they mention that, everybody in range automatically thinks their PINs. This, of course, is how the (telepathic!) thief had broken into the houses in the first place.

Ever since then, every time I've had to enter a PIN or a password anywhere, I've carefully also thought some other random letters or numbers. It's a silly habit, which I only developed long after I outgrew poking around closets for Narnia and had nearly outgrown poking around closets for secret passageways, and it wouldn't really deter a mind-reading thief for very long, but I still do it. If there ever is a telepathic malefactor in close proximity to me, at least they'll have to to try a few different codes to use my bank card!

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I got a set of cute little penguin pens. They're very cute. So cute.

I didn't realize that each pen has a little motto on it, or I might've not bought them. You see, one continuing annoyance since childhood is that writing on pens is always upside down if you're left-handed. Oh, you can get pens where the writing is oriented correctly, that is, for lefties, but for some reason all that writing inevitably is left-handed themed! I don't want my right side up pen motto to say something like "Only lefties are in their right mind!", I want it to say something like "Hope you are happy every day", which is the upside down motto on this purple penguin.

It's the same with left-handed rulers, incidentally. I just want the numbers to go in a sensible direction, I don't need my ruler to affirm how wonderful it is that I'm drawing lines with my left hand.

On a related note, I'm seriously considering buying another pair of lefty kitchen shears for work. I don't really have to spend much time in the kitchen, but if I am in the kitchen and using kitchen shears (almost inevitably to cut up the next day's lunch sandwiches but sometimes to cut up breakfast pancakes and sausages) I'd rather use mine than theirs, because cutting with the wrong scissors is painful and messy. But if I bring my sole pair - which is amazing, I love it, best Christmas present ever! - back and forth with me then sometimes I use it at home, forget to put it back in my bag, and then am irritated for three days until I finally remember again. I could ask them to supply shears for me and keep them in the kitchen drawer, it's a legitimate (and small!) expense, but honestly, I know from experience that righties are terrible and when they accidentally use left-handed scissors they get very confused and irritated. Amusing for me, but undoubtedly an exercise in frustration for a workplace. It's really better all around to bring my own.

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Well, I meant to post it then, and I guess I'll belatedly post it now - a New Year's Friend Meme!

Click the banner to join us and make some new friends!

How thin and sharp is the moon tonight!
How thin and sharp and ghostly white
Is the slim curved crook of the moon tonight!

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In fact, the moon is kinda orange just now, but I'm sure it'll grow pale once it clears the bridge.

when you finally confess your love to the guy you've been pining after for half your life, and it turns out that you have a perfectly aligned and complementary set of kinks? Nobody has to compromise and agree to sometimes do the thing they're not that into or, conversely, never do the thing they're totally into. Nobody's turned off by the mere thought of any of it, every conversation is an ongoing saga of "yes, and".

I guess that's one more advantage of being fictional!

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A list of weekend protests

You'll laugh, it was that weird.

I dreamed that I was going to sleep. I had found a bed - not my actual bed, just a bed! - and snuggled down to sleep. And then I woke up a little (really woke up, not dream woke up) in my own bed, snuggled up nice and cozy, and drifted between the two beds, real and dream, for a little bit before falling back asleep for real.

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Watch on YouTube

Such an open and bald admission that this is about the oil.

I thought I outgrew this behavior a good two decades ago, but I guess illegal wars really get my dander up.

The conversation, such as it was, was long and pointless, but it did have this amusing, paraphrased exchange:

Them: I didn't say that you should say "ones of them", I just said that even though it sounds wrong it's technically grammatical! Go to ChatGPT, it'll tell you the same thing!

Me: No, it won't, here's the screenshot.

Them: Well! That doesn't count because it doesn't cite a rule! I did check before posting that you should go to ChatGPT, you know!

(They spontaneously claimed elsewhere that they understand the idea of descriptivist linguistics, but I think they don't understand how much of language has yet to be described, even in very well-studied languages like English.)

1. Signups are now open for

purimgifts.

2. If you haven't recently downloaded everything from LJ you might want to back up, you may wish to do so now.

In winter
all the singing is in
the tops of the trees
where the wind-bird

with its white eyes
shoves and pushes
among the branches.
Like any of us

he wants to go to sleep,
but he's restless—
he has an idea,
and slowly it unfolds

from under his beating wings
as long as he stays awake.
But his big, round music, after all,
is too breathy to last.

So, it's over.
In the pine-crown
he makes his nest,
he's done all he can.

I don't know the name of this bird,
I only imagine his glittering beak
tucked in a white wing
while the clouds—

which he has summoned
from the north—
which he has taught
to be mild, and silent—

thicken, and begin to fall
into the world below
like stars, or the feathers
of some unimaginable bird

that loves us,
that is asleep now, and silent—
that has turned itself
into snow.

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Link

There is no chance of me making this one - I just got off of work at 8, and I need to sleep.

But as soon as I figure out what to say I'll be contacting my... my everyone. My congresscritters and anybody else.