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“For a question with so much riding on it—does using politically correct language actually make a person less of a jerk?—the test was deceptively simple.

Here’s what you do: Show people a sketch of a cartoon person—circle-for-head, ovals for arms and body—with a dotted line linking it to an equally cartoony thing, a balloon-animal dog. Over the person’s head loom two thought bubbles, a round one containing three question marks and a jagged one with three exclamation points. That’s it. And the test is, describe what’s happening.

Importantly, the people being tested, upwards of 2,000 of them, were all native speakers of Swedish, an old language that has learned a new trick. Like English, Swedish used two pronouns to indicate the gender of a person, hon (she) and han (he). But in 2012, a new word dropped into Swedish discourse: hen, a nongendered pronoun that could replace either or both.

So this was the real test. Would native-speaker Swedes, seven years after getting a new pronoun plugged into their language, be more likely to assume this androgynous cartoon was a man? A woman? Either, or neither? Now that they had a word for it, a nonbinary option, would they think to use it?

And they did. Not only did the Swedish speakers use the nonbinary option to describe the, let’s face it, nonbinary human, but in other surveys they deployed hen (as well as han, but the feminine hon, too) to describe people in stories when their genders weren’t specified. Now, it’s true the researchers don’t have comparable tests from before 2012, before hen. So this result is, as UCLA political psychologist Efrén Pérez says, merely suggestive. Still, though, “this word has no biological associations. It’s from scratch. And it’s performing the way some proponents argued it would,” says Pérez, coauthor of a paper describing these tests in the journal Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences. “These language changes can nudge people in directions some folks find normatively worthy.”

Read the full piece here

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A non-exhaustive list of things that Jesus of Nazareth was:

1)Middle Eastern,brown skinned,racially Semitic and Jewish by faith,as all versions of his life agree beyond any doubt.

2)A member of the working class,a carpenter by profession,as was Joseph his father.

3)Born to an unmarried adolescent mother,as any Christian tradition would tell you of Mary of Nazareth.

4)The son of an immigrant family that was on the run,seeking asylum from political persecution by King Herod,as his one of his chief life chroniclers Matthew would tell you.

5)A staunch opposer of capitalisation of religion,as he proved when he overturned the tables of business at the Temple in Jerusalem.

6)Anti-ritualism in religion,as he once told a rich young man that the most the later would need to do to lead a pious life was to keep the simple rules like honouring one's parents,keeping charity and practising honesty.

7)A pro-poor socialist.Always and Unquestionably,as was found out by the same rich young man whom he advised to give up all his property to the poor,if the latter wanted to do further good in life.

8)An enthusiastic inclusive and proponent of equality who urged others to feed the hungry,clothe the naked,quench the thirsty,invite the stranger,nurse the sick and visit the incapacitated; and had himself accepted the friendship of a person belonging to a community unfriendly with his own.

9)An anti-imperialist rebel who promised and urged others to pay back the Roman Emperor and Coloniser of Israel,Augustus Caesar with the latter's own coin.

10)A great friend of the prostitutes and people with stigmatised diseases of the body and mind,as Mary Magdalene,the countless lepers,paralysed people and possessed people would tell you.

11)An anti slut-shaming feminist champion who challenged a mob that an absolutely sinless person should cast the first stone at a supposed adulteress.

12)A passionate lover of heated debates with the Religious Orthodoxy,as well as exceptionally fond of beating them at their own game,as the Pharisees and the Philistines found out to their disadvantage.

13)A non believer in body shaming,as we find out when he calmed down a woman with a vaginal bleed who was terrified that he would be offended because she had touched him in a crowd,hoping to get cured.

14)A strong antagonist of bearing a judgemental disposition towards others,for as he said,we shall not be judged,only if we do not judge,and only on taking the plank out of our own eyes would we see clearly enough to remove the speck from another's eyes.

15)A holder of great trust in the human potential,for he hated the sin,not the sinner,never the sinner.

16)Above all,a great man who was hunted down by religious orthodoxy and political power,hand in hand,and whose humane message has since been shrouded in a cloak of divinity.

Merry Christmas.

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This time,let us put the 'Christ' back in Christmas.

Let us love our enemies,do good to those that hate us,and pray for those that persecute us.

Let us feed the hungry,give a drink to the thirsty,clothe the naked,invite the stranger in,nurse the sick and visit those who are in prison.

Let us go to the temples of worship and turn over the tables of business in their compounds.

Let us stop those who would harass a woman for her sexual choices,and challenge the masses to cast a stone at her,only if they are sure of being absolutely free of sin themselves.

Let us go to the home of a woman known to subsist on the sale of her sexual favours,to share a meal cooked by her sister and her.

Let us promise and preach to pay back governments and authorities in their own coin.

Let us honour our mothers and fathers and give up our riches for the poor.

Let us discontinue the self indulgent practice of gifts,decor,parties and Santas,for if there is a way to bring back Christ into Christmas,it is this.

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All I want for Christmas is to find out the lyrics of 'God Rest Ye,Merry Hippogriffs'.

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The 'Nobel'-est of Them All- Marie and Misogyny.

"Of course she is innocent-have you seen her?Yes,she is somewhat intelligent,but she is so ugly. How on earth can she be the reason behind Paul Langevin's broken family and impending divorce?"

- Albert Einstein about Marie Curie

Sometime after the death of her husband,co-worker,and co-Nobel awardee Pierre,Maria 'Marie' Sklodowska Curie began a raging affair with Paul Langevin,a fellow physicist,who,in addition to being married,a father of three at that time,five years Marie's junior,and a notorious womaniser,had also been,in the distant past,the late Pierre Curie's doctoral student.

An occasional rendezvous with one of Paul's many extra marital affairs was nothing new in the Langevin household;in fact way too many household articles had been damaged over this,with the rare physical injury-but this time,Madame Jeanne Desfosses Langevin decided that she had had the last straw of her husband's philandering. She hired a detective,got hold of Paul and Marie's letters from their love-nest in downtown Paris,and sold them to the media,eventually moving the court for divorce and custody of their children,merely days before Marie was due to be awarded her second Nobel Prize.

European,and especially Parisian newsletters wasted no time in painting a grotesque image of Marie Curie-a poor female widowed Polish immigrant,not conventionally beautiful,who had made it to the top straight from scratch and was more successful than most others in her own right was reduced overnight to a 'Jewish adulteress,hell bent on destroying an honest Frenchwoman's life,name and family.'

However,while Marie bore all the stigma alone,Paul's infamous notoriety as a debauch was conveniently hidden in public record.

Even the contemporary scientific minds were either downright unsympathetic to Marie,or were scathing,sarcastic and judgemental-like the great Einstein himself.

Public grievances against Marie's private life grew so bad,that one fine morning,an angry mob of moral police surrounded the Curie's Paris residence,forcing Marie to flee to the home of one of her very few sympathisers-a mathematician friend,fearful for Irène and Ève,her fourteen and seven year old daughters' safety.

The Nobel Committee promptly uninvited Marie from the Prize Ceremony;apparently,the idea that a woman of such 'ill-reputation' be presented before the King of Sweden was an unearthly scandal.

Marie,the badass that she was,wrote back in reply to the Noble Committee, 'Please note that since reputation isn't the category for which you are presenting me with the award,this matter is entirely irrelevant in this regard and fails to disqualify my distinction. Indeed I shall attend the ceremony,and you shall present me,and not any representative,with the award;it is the only right thing to do.'

So instead of sitting back home and digesting all the injustice,she did go to Sweden,and with the other awardees,did stand before the King and Committee,thereby making herself the first person,man or woman,to be awarded the Nobel Prize twice,and the only person in history to be awarded the Nobel Prize in two separate disciplines.

Returning to Paris,Marie put an end to the Langevin affair;judging by the fact that Paul Langevin himself was suspiciously uninterested in hastening his divorce proceedings,he hardly cared,inspite of all the purported 'unhappiness' of his marriage(which was undoubtedly his own fault in his entirety)and all the love he apparently bore Marie;rather he in the meantime had become the father of a fourth child with his wife Jeanne,and in the later years,had another son,this time out of wedlock,with fellow physicist Eliane Montel.

The fellow French who once demanded nothing short of a public lynching for her would remember her in the years to come as the heroine whose military medical services in association with Dr Bronislawa Sklodowska Dluska,Marie's older sister and medical-scientist-oncologist,during the World War I were both unparalleled and unprecedented- an effort which literally killed Marie of aplastic anaemia due to radiation over-exposure.

Paul Langevin in the later years became the doctoral advisor of Marie's daughter Irène Curie;Irène's daughter Hélène later married the Langevin's grandson Michel,and they became the parents to a son named Yves. Whether that made for really interesting family reunions,we do not know,but the Nobility of the Curie dynasty did continue:Irène and her husband and one-time co doctoral student under Marie Curie,Jean Frédéric Joliot-Curie were both Nobel laureates,just like Irène's parents Marie and Pierre. The Joliot-Curie's daughter Hélène and son Pierre,son-in-law Michel and grandson Yves are all prominent scientists;in fact,Hélène and Pierre were Irène's own doctoral students. Irène's younger sister Ève Curie was an author and human rights activist with UNICEF. Her husband Dr Henry Labouisse was also the recipient of a Nobel Prize in favour of UNICEF.

The 'Nobel'est Family in the history of Science,perhaps?

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When Annie Oakley was young,her family was very poor and hence,she used to shoot animals to sell for money to buy food. Yet another proof that hunger is the biggest motivation of all.

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'Pain' Jane.

Okay do you remember Jane,the Volturi member from The Twilight Saga,the one who could cause pain by merely saying 'pain'? What if she were a dominatrix?

What if,to gain easy victims,she went undercover on a BDSM Dating Website under the name of 'Pain' Jane?

(After I had written this,I realised that I hate Twilight and I am not into BDSM,but hey,puns are addictive.)

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Maria Anna Mozart, Wolfgang's older sister and 'idol'.

Maria Anna Mozart was,in addition to being an exceptionally talented musician and composer,the older sister of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. The more famous Mozart often referred to her as his inspiration and idol. But she went ahead to sacrifice the two loves of her life-Classical Music and a certain young Captain and tutor,just to suit her parent's wishes.She got married to a much older widower of her father's choice,eventually raising 4 stepchildren and 2 children. Classical Music Composer Maria Anna was thus erased from human 'His'tory and eventually overshadowed by the fame of her equally talented younger male sibling.

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Theory that Nagini the Maledictus-woman worked as a wet-nurse at the orphanage where the baby Tom Marvolo Riddle lived and that is how he tracked her down to make her a Horcrux,because that is the only scenario that explains their totally fucked-up relationship.

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Imagine.

Imagine Arthur Weasley taking Ted Remus Lupin,his grandson in law and Metamorphmagus,to St Oswald's Home For Old Witches and Wizards.

Imagine Ted Remus Lupin taking on the appearance of Cedric Diggory and spending time with the dying Amos Diggory,who,as the Healers say,is only still alive,because of his delirious desire to see his long-dead son again.

Some people disapprove,but Arthur doesn't mind. He knows,deep down,he would do anything to see his Fred again,even a shadow,even a glimpse.

Ted doesn't mind,either. Inspite of the many father-figures in his life,he does enjoy being around the senile Amos Diggory,for then,he truly feels a parent's love,a father's affection.

(P.S.:I wrote a full length fanfic on this on my Tumblr,please read and let me know your thoughts!)

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The Gift:A Not So Happy,Post-War,Harry Potter Fanfic.

(Warning:Tear Jerker Alert.)

Christmas has been unusually wet this year,and yet today,the dawn shines on the light snowfall covering the weathered cobblestone, like a beam of relief,a promise kept at last after a lot of tribulations.

The empty street in front of the derelict Victorian mansion waits,as patient as it's residents,it's windows lightly caressed by unkempt ivy,poised for the festive ruckus of people that never takes place in its vicinity;its garden of ancient oaks,sepias,magnolias and neat flowerbeds forever in anticipation of happier times and merrier gatherings.

An unusually serious and rather old Arthur Weasley has arrived at the said derelict building,which is the old age home at the end of the cobblestone road. He has a gift for an old colleague who is a resident there.

As he makes his way upstairs with the gift,the anxious chief care-giver of St Oswald's Home For Old Witches and Wizards whispers, "Mr.Weasley,are you sure? Your friend...He is indeed very ill, and cannot recall or recognize anyone or anything;save for the fact that none of us are...well,none of us are his son,Sir. At night,he screams for his son in his sleep.The Healer has said that he would have been long dead,but somewhere in his delirious brain still lurks the desire to see his son,and that is what keeps him alive.I am aware of the Minister's orders,but I doubt very much that your efforts will be fruitful,Sir."

Arthur smiles,some of his old genial self peeking through,and simply says,"And yet we must try our best,Ma'am",and enters the highest room of the mansion,the ajar door pushed opened to reveal a lavish,but old-fashioned room.

A king-sized bed with spider-web-thin muslin drapes lay close to one of the walls,by the bay window. An ancient,almost-battered-by-use sofa set stood in the centre,with a griffin-claw footed mahogany table bearing the vestiges of a nearly uneaten breakfast in silver and china utensils,lying upon an Occamy feather rug in front of the stone fireplace crackling merrily with alit pine branches,the air heavy with the aroma. A couple of once-exquisite,now-discoloured tapestries hung above the huge mantlepiece-one depicting Merlin and King Arthur with the Excalibur and the Lady of the Lake,the other depicting Morgane La Faye's tryst with Sir Lancelot,while the corpse of Lady Elaine of Shalot floated down on a boat to Camelot,as Queen Guinevere watched from the shadows. The raw silk curtains and dragon-skin upholstery,along with the lone occupant of the room,completed the poignant look that grandeur leaves when it is silently,progressively replaced by decay.

The frail,senile,seriously sick wizard lies on the bed with his eyes closed,oblivious to the very first visitors in his decades long stay at the old age home. A simple glance at him would be enough to say that the good care-giver was indeed mincing her words when it came to relaying her boarder's true condition to his friend.

The Gift walks over,looks down to the bed,trembles for a moment and then,after what seems like an eternity,calls out to the dozing old man,"Dad?"

In an instant,as though by magic,Amos Diggory wakes up,his eyes rather shiny. His fatigued,cataractous vision merely grazes the countenance of his visitor,before his eyes seem to be able to grasp the enormity of the situation.

"Ced?My Boy,is that you?But,they told me,they said...The Triwizard Tournament...the third task... Dumbledore...Moody...You-Know-Who...Fudge said that...you are...you are...oh my son...Ced,where were you all this time,my precious child?" Amos' voice chokes as decades worth of tears drop down his cheeks,and he reaches out to touch his son's forever-17 year old handsome face.

The Gift smiles,his eyes welling up,"It is okay,Dad. I am here,we are here,it is alright. We will be together now. Everything is fine."

Cedric,or rather this stranger who looks like Amos' long dead son Cedric Diggory,proceeds to sit comfortably on one of the armchairs by the fire,and begins to patiently listen to all that the old man has to say,all his little whims,all his party plans for Cedric's graduation from Hogwarts,all the times Amos exclaims,"Harry Potter,Ced!You beat him again!Tell that to your children,won't you Ced,won't you,son,won't you?",all the times he teases him about someone called 'Your special lady-friend Cho'. Not once does he let the waves of confusion inside him get to the old man,who surprisingly seems to be alive with a different fervour today,as though he has had a boon of immortality bestowed upon him all of a sudden.

At lunch-time,The Gift opens a lunch-box full of a delicious meal cooked by none other than Molly Weasley herself-a sumptuous chocolate Christmas cake with vanilla and blueberry icing,lamb mince pies,garlic bread with herb encrusted cottage cheese,gin punch,roast turkey,beef Wellington,pot roast,pork chops,tripe,eggnog,treacle tart,fudge,custard creams and Christmas pudding. Amos has his first taste of home-cooked food since his grieving wife's premature death many years ago.

At sundown,when the care-givers come with Amos' daily dose of medication,and to say that it is time for the visitors to leave,causing Amos to enter into a renewed frenzy of anxiety,The Gift tucks Amos in his bed,kisses him on the forehead,and says,"Goodnight Dad. I will be back tomorrow. I promise." That promise was all that took to calm the otherwise inconsolable old man,into a resting night's sleep from which,unknown to the Gift,he would never wake up again.

Once he is out of the room,Ted Remus Lupin,one of the very few living Metamorphmagi in England and indeed,the world,turns back from Cedric Diggory to his own true self. He hastily makes his way down the staircase to the waiting room,where Arthur Weasley had been patiently sitting all day on a similar battered armchair by the fire,reading a Muggle newspaper. The two men,green and grey,bid goodbye to the chief care giver,and walk out of the front door,a deafening silence in the shape of Christmas Day creeping up between them.

As they walked away from the house and towards the main street,Ted is the first one to break the lurking quiet.

"Was it a good thing to do,Grandfather Arthur?Was it the right thing?"

Arthur looks into his Grandson-In-Law's confused,and evidently pained face,the considerable experience of his many years raining down as compassion on this orphaned and infinitely kind young man,whose face often reminded him of another unfortunate young and brilliant man,and a jubilant but brave young woman,both of whom Arthur had known a long time ago.

Ted presses on.

"We don't know what is on the other side,none of us do. What if,what if...Amos,if one day he meets his Cedric,his true Cedric on the other side...he would know we played a trick,Grandfather Weasley,he would know...and he would never forgive us."

Arthur smiles.

"One day,Ted,when you are as old as I am,you will realise how badly Amos wants to leave this world of pains,this life that has been so unkind to him,and for that,he needed a last glance at Cedric. No one knows whether Amos shall ever see Cedric again. No one knows whether I shall see your Uncle Fred again. But the day...the day we won,the day I lost Fred,I too felt what Amos had felt 3 years previously. Then I knew,Ted and I pray that you never know what that feels like. But know this,yes of course,Amos will forgive us. He will forgive us because he wanted desperately to get out of this cruel world where he was little better than a prisoner,and you helped him face his desire in peace."

Ted Lupin keeps walking in silence. A week ago,he had been summoned to his godfather's home to find that the Minister For Magic was present there too. He wasn't too surprised,for Madam Granger-Weasley was now Aunt Hermione to him by his marriage to Victoire Weasley. Still,he was dazed,as always to see the trio,the heroes of the Second Wizarding War together. His Godfather-now Uncle Harry,Uncle Ron,Aunt Hermione,and Aunt Ginny...the Pinnacle of Glory brought about by a disaster that had left wizardkind shaken to the core.

Slowly,Hermione explained to him her request.

A rather silent Harry James Potter handed him a picture taken from a very old news report published years ago in The Daily Prophet-Uncle Harry,Ted's Mother-in-Law Fleur Delacour,Bulgarian Quidditch Player Viktor Krum,and Hogwarts Star Student and Prefect Cedric Diggory-the four champions at the Wand Weighing Ceremony before the beginning of the Triwizard Tournament,the tournament which would end with Cedric Diggory's murder by Voldemort. There was another report with another picture,stating the 'unfortunate accidental death of Cedric Diggory during the third task of the Triwizard Tournament.'

Uncle Ron and Aunt Ginny had only watched in silence,ashen faced.

"We shall not force you if you don't want to,Ted. But you are the best man for the job,and maybe we could give Amos Diggory a last chance to be happy for once",Hermione had said,ever so gently.

Uncle Harry had seemed uninterested in facing the rest of the occupants of the room,keeping his face to the fire,his face a shroud.

Ted Lupin did not want to,initially. He considered it an act of great treachery to take the advantage of a helpless senile man-was this what his only gift from his long-dead mother Nymphadora Tonks,would be reduced to?A ploy for deceit?

He had finally changed his mind after a lot of pleading from the entire family,but his disappointment had often kept surging to the surface throughout the days. It was over,they had it all,all the glory,the exalted greatness,the fame of being some sort of alternate royalty amongst British Wizards,the tag of 'First Family' of Magic Britain as popularised by tabloids-they had it all,why now pretend as though all that had come at no cost? The prices paid were very real. Ted was living proof of that. The Weasley Family clock with only 8 moving hands,Fred's being fixed at 'dead'-that was another daily reminder and concrete proof. Another proof was an absent-minded Grandmother Molly often getting startled at a sudden sight of Uncle George and exclaiming "Oh Fr...I mean George,come and sit down for dinner,dear." The sudden pallor on Uncle George's face when he heard that was proof enough. There were other innumerable proofs,hidden in every corner,in every household,in each family of the country. Why then show them this profound disregard?

However,very late that night,as he awakes from a deep sleep with a start,initiated by a shapeless,soundless maze that are his dreams,Ted realises that he is glad,having agreed to do his last bit for Amos Diggory.

For the first time,Ted Lupin is really glad that he went to see Amos as Cedric,because it had made him stop pondering. In doing it,He had found closure to a question that kept prodding at the back of his all these years,a question that,inspite of the presence of so many paternal figures in his life,was never really answered.

For the first time in nearly three decades of his walking the Earth,Edward Remus Lupin now knows what it would be like,to meet his own father,Remus John Lupin,werewolf and martyr of the Battle of Hogwarts,and that gives him contentment enough. He wants little else now. Looking out the window,he notices that the crisp snowfall of the morning has once again turned into the usual blizzard and rainfall of the past few days,but the storm in his own soul has been calmed once and for all.

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That moment when you are listening to one of those romantic songs with particularly sad, cruelly depressing lyrics,and then it suddenly hits you:"I am lucky I am able to listen to this song without understanding a thousand more layers behind each word. I am lucky I don't relate to this."

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I don't understand why men justify sexual harassment by saying, "Don't dress like that if you don't want attention."

Okay,let's just say she did dress to grab someone's attention.

But what makes you think it is particularly your attention she wants to grab,when there are a hundred people in the same place?Does she have a sign with your name on it?Does she have it printed on her crop top?Did she hand you a note the moment she entered the place?No?Then why would you assume it is you?

Seriously,why would you even use that pathetic logic to explain your silly sense of entitlement?

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This is for those people who think that feminism and socialism are outdated concepts.

(Picture Courtesy:Google Images)

The Gaokor is a shack used in certain communities of India and Nepal to house the women of the village during their monthly times of menstruation. All menstruating women must voluntarily leave their homes and go to live in the shack outside the village once they realise their periods have started(even if it is late at night or at the crack of dawn),for as long as 7 days every month,or more.

There are no toilets,electricity or water supply in the Gaokor;the women must fetch their own water,cook their own food,light their own fires at night to keep safe and warm,and use the nearby wastelands as toilets,and that too in the early morning,to avoid the stigma of the male gaze.

The women in a Gaokor often become victims of sexual abuse(since there are no doors or locks in a gaokor),infections for lack of hygeine or in the very least,are very often attacked by wild animals like wolves and snakes.

This is all because of a superstition that menstruation is thought to be a pollution and menstruating women, apparently,can cause crops to fail and humans and livestock to fall ill and die.

Oh yes,and there are no pads or tampons for these ladies-because of the superstition that their use can cause virgins to lose their hynen and married women to become widowed. So they make do with rags,wood shavings,ashes,leaves,nothing at all-you name it.

Painkiller medication?Yeah,nice joke.

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I don't know why so many people say "forgive and forget" to people who have a hard time moving on after emotional trauma in relationships,etc.

Forgiving that person will only make you feel downtrodden like shit,like you are the lowliest of creatures and this injustice was really meant to happen to you or you deserved to experience this or something.

Forgiveness is not the key to move on. Indifference is. Achieve Indifference.

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About whitewashing of coloured people history…

I was just watching a Fox TV show on Food in Malaysia,where the host(who is Australian and white)asks a local Malaysian,“The Portuguese were here too?Why?”

Oh they were just out for a fun day of shopping and chilling at the mall with their buddies the English and the Dutch,you idiot,what do you think?

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Like and reblog if you think that Mandark from Dexter's Laboratory was a trans-male.

His parents did keep calling him 'Susan' and he kept on insisting he was 'Man'dark instead.