#study bog

[dasnercaret]

siffrin moment

[beetlebabe]

Leaf bug crunchy as fuck

[slavic-roots-western-mind]

Spring Reading List 📚🌼🎧🌸☕

It's been a while since I did a reading list (mostly because the past few months have been too busy for leisure reading), so here are some of my recent reads!

Done:

Tehrangeles by Porochista Khakpour. While this was a satirical read, i was a bit confused at times at where the plot was going. A wealthy and disfunctional family starring in their own reality show, which ends up in secrets being dragged up and various shenanigans.

Why the Germans Do It Better: Notes from a Grown-Up Country by John Kampfner. The title sums what the book is about. Having lived in Germany for some time I can agree with some of the points, but quite a lot was mostly from a German perspective, with some obvious biases.

Colored Television by Danzy Senna. The life of Jane, who's greatest dream is to finally publish the monster of the book she's been writing for several years, and to finally get that tenure and improve her family's life. However, things get a different turn and things go right, then they go wrong and so on. The plot was interesting, but it felt like it was setting up for this massive plot twist which never actually happened.

The Bog Wife by Kay Chronister. Where to even begin with this book. This is definitely one of those books that goes in a direction you never even thought existed. The Haddesley family of West Virginia have a "covenant" with the bog; they take care of it and offer a sacrifice in the form of the family patriarch when he's close to death, and the bog in turn sustains the family, and provides the oldest son with a "bog-wife" to produce heirs. Except this time something goes really wrong. It's not really the gothic horror that I expected, but it nonetheless has fantastic imagery and an interesting approach to complex themes.

Current:

Confucianism: The 4 Books and 5 classics. Rereading this again as I left it alone for several months.

To-read:

The 48 Laws of Power by Robert Greene (This book has been haunting me for almost a year now. One day I will finish it. But not today. The day I finish it I will throw a party to celebrate it)

[victusinveritas]

A 2,325-year-old bog butter weighing almost 13.5kgs recovered from Rosberry in County Kildare, dated 360 to 200 BC, alongside the keg it was found in.

Image credit: National Museum of Ireland

[snurtle]

once again, people on this website display an absolute inability to talk to anyone who doesn't phrase things the exact same way as them without breaking down.

not my problem but it is tiring.

[rabbit-harpist]

made for my best friend, the greatest bog buddy i could ask for. she hopes someday to be a great bog body as well

[maddiemuu]

thinking more about my bog body story... i think the themes and questions i wanna touch on with the character(s...?) are coming together more clearly for me... like for one, there's the question of why people love things when they know it won't be reciprocated. there's also a question i've asked myself a lot as someone who's currently doing research work that may not even manifest into anything "significant" until after i die, which is why we study mysteries that we're well aware may not have a conclusion... either for us or just in general. ever. what's the point? clearly we gain something because so many people do it, but what is that?? and of course there is one of my favorite things to explore: the inherent limitations of human perception babeyyy. imo in many ways it is impossible to be known "fully"- as in, to the extent you can as someone who lives inside your own head, but does that make other peoples' perceptions wrong?? bad?? here it's in the context of romantic love. sort of similar to nicole's story but i think the take i have with the bog body story is much more overtly sentimental and romance-focused rather than horror-focused... sort of an inverse lol. like the horror is There it's just more of a seasoning than the base of the meal yk. a lot of these i have my own answers to, but i still like thinking about them and making up different perspectives :]

[residentevilgirlie]

i hate studying so much

[recitedemise]

𝗚𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗻 𝘂𝗻𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗻𝘆 𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗻𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗰𝘆. For him, the feeling of the latter—striking, palpable, entirely all-body—is addictive. It feels the most potent, singing through his body in a manner that thrills, and after calling down lightning in a flash of blue, its the fragrance of a storm that he's proud to wear. It makes his nerves feel alive. His every muscle feels wired. In a way, life's at its brightest when he plays with lightning, and mad in his eyes and wild in his hair, there's no element that comes close to besting it.

That said, however, it is necromancy that he's grown most adept in. Unfortunately, his relationship with it isn't half as kind as it is with lightning. Rotting from the inside, skin cracking nastily, Gale had grown desperate to control the orb. Because he's dying, he thought it best to study dying, poring himself endlessly in necromantic textbooks and experimenting (unsuccessfully) on his blight-gotten wounds. To note, necromancy itself isn't inherently evil. For example, it doesn't mean you support the raising of the dead. Rather, it's a study that's neutral just as any other, and as a study on forces from both death to life, Gale, with urgency, obsessively learned. With his year in solitude, it is feverishly that he took to necromancy. Somatically and verbally, his aptitude for the field is practically bar-none, and after Elminster helped tame the orb, the breadth of his studies comes to fruition. It isn't his favorite field, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't thoroughly enjoy it. It works well, anyway, considering his leaning for lightning; with necromancy chilling him, those violent bolts warm.

[bog-teeth]

"people who like drawing hands scare me" this "hands are hard" that. ok well what about people who's favorite thing to draw is shoes. what kind of sorcery yall WITHOLDIN

[betagrove]

I gotta go to Hoenn FUCK

[endawna]

if starting a relationship with him, he will make an offhanded comment in how them being with him is in direct conflict with the tenets of most, if not all, of his gods. he tries to pass it off as a halfhearted musing but deep down it does bother him. he’s conflicted. makes him question if he’s truly deserving of this happiness and if somehow merely being near him is enough to harm or corrupt them.

[fishmongeringstudies]

#40092: woxer won’t stop texting me in all caps about its incredibly bad black friday sale and it’s starting to stress me out but i want new underwear eventually, just not right now, so i can’t unsubscribe yet

Do you remember those big red bags they gave us in freshman year? They had square bases reinforced with a layer of cardboard and fabric so we could put our takeout boxes inside and not worry about them sliding open. Everything was takeout-only that year. In the fall everyone sat in big circles on the grass outside and when I arrived in the spring I would take my food home in that big red bag, my hands shoved all the way down my pockets. It snowed hard that winter. I have photos on my old phone of Mertz field turned completely white, of pockets of water in the grass that had frozen over. The brick flooring of the patio behind Willets stayed frozen for so long, you had to pick up your feet when you walked on it or you’d fall over.

The Saturday of Thanksgiving break I looked up on my way to get dinner and saw a clear blue sky. It was cold that evening, three degrees Celcius and steadily falling. Maybe the cold had scared all the clouds away. The sky yawned wide across the domed world to the other side of campus, where it was slowly turning pink. The air was still.

When I got back I watched Dan and Phil from Youtube play a horror game about really liking golf in the first floor lounge and picked at my rice. I read the last four chapters of Kakukaku Shikajika and felt my eyes water like they did every year when I read Kakukaku Shikajika. I did a handstand.

Do you remember when campus was a ghost town without ghosts and you had gotten off at the wrong stop? Looking at Google Maps on your phone you thought to yourself, this must be the wrong place. You rubbed dust from your eyes.

From year to year to year I learned to associate quiet with nothingness. We’re the ones that got here when the fire was still burning, after all. It makes sense that we didn’t know how to be people to each other, let alone ourselves. Burning and freezing and burning and freezing in each other’s dingles in Willets with too much furniture and not enough of anything else.

That winter I spilled chicken pot pie in that old red bag and forgot to clean it up. By the time I found it by sheer smell alone it was molding hard and would cost too much effort to save. So I threw it away with all the other things I didn’t need anymore.

[newspecies]

this one too

[catsconflictscopicsandchamomile]

unironically im going to start telling ppl this is Demon!Dean's true form

because uh

it is

that's him

Bog Guard by i Asimov

[maddiemuu]

having so many story ideas today. waughh..