bardic-desperation

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They need to have Brennan do the “this is the sound” intro but have it turn into the Man In Black’s voice for the finale of arc 4

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I found this soap and had to get it.

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This is the ep where the Man in Black truly lost me. The Citadel, and even the Wizard Sky and the Witch of the World's Heart, could've been, arguably, seen as military targets, the latter though with a much weaker case. His grievance with the Tower is legitimate, he is righteous in his wrath, and true to his nature, to his Breath - a Noble Demon, and a worthy adversary to our party of True Friends.

But here - here he proves willing to sacrifice four score children, and does not see the harm in it. Children that he himself wanted free, children whose imprisonment he saw as proof of Imperial horror. And yet he too, now, commits the same sin as the Citadel, ignores the children's wants and needs, ignores their agency for the sake of what he believes is Necessary - much like Steel does.

Because both, within two episodes of each other, are shown to be willing to harm children for the Greater Good. For The Cause. And of course that's where Eursulon would stand most resolutely against him, for the same reason he stood against the gaolers of the Glass Coronet. Those children - their freedom, their joy: that is The Cause. The only Cause that matters.

...God, I love this show so much.

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i’m sorry kink fans but i just can’t see the suffix ‘con’ without thinking it means convention

‘dubcon’ will skrillex be there??

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the fact em forster lost his virginity at the age of 37 and then was too busy having gay sex to write…inspiring

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Your regular reminder that trickle-down economics is a cruel joke designed by the wealthy.

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Tired of stories where the author worldbuilds a whole religion only to chicken out at the last moment by making the main character a skeptic. You mean to tell me that there’s all this richness in lore and culture, but you’ve trapped me with the one person in this society who doesn’t care about it? So bland. I could meet an agnostic easily enough by walking down the street, but your story is my one chance to hear the perspective of someone who follows whatever religion you’ve contrived. You made this whole world; convince me that your character really is from there.

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"nothing is real atoms never touch each other youve never touched anything in your life" ok. well when i pet my dog he is soft and when he licks my hand it is wet and that is far more real to me than whatevers going on at an atomic level

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I wanna talk about Generational thinking.

There are folks who think that all you have to do is wait for all the Old Bigots to die off, and things will Get Better. I’ve seen it said by Alphas about Gen X; I’ve seen Millenials say it about Boomers, I saw Gen-Xers say it about the Silent Generation.

It doesn’t work. It doesn’t stick.

Why?

Well, for starters, these Generations are not monoliths. The conversation of Egalitarianism vs Elitism is a very, very old argument, and there have always been people fighting on both sides.

Let me tell you about My Family.

•

My Father was solidly Boomer, born 1950. He was a blond haired, blue eyed white guy; born to a military family in a freshly conquered pacific territory.

He was also left handed.

His treatment by the Catholic nuns in his school days (beatings daily, for being Sinister, or Left-handed, which in those days was taken as unambiguous proof that Evil Forces lurked in your soul) would instill in him a permanent anti-authoritarian streak that would define his entire life.

When Washington moved them to the racially charged South in the 60s, he wound up with a reputation for being very nice to the Black Kids, and for possessing a powerful southpaw uppercut that he liked to use to disprove the “Supremacy” of Racists.

When he moved to California in the 70s, he learned Chinese, and then Vietnamese, and made it a point to be known to those in his vicinity that anyone who wanted to be was an American, no matter how thick their accent.

But, as he aged, he stopped keeping up with the world. He retreated into the Internet. He began listening to Men’s Rights Activists and Conspiracy Theorists. If you’d met him only when he was old, you would have no idea that he’d once been the type to punch Nazis in the face.

He’d believed that he was Too Cool to become one of the Bad Guys.

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My Mother’s Mother was a Nurse.

She worked for Planned Parenthood. From the 1970s up through the late 90s, over 30 years, she provided women of all colors, ages, and classes medical care and information that helped them secure their reproductive rights and freedoms.

She would no doubt be cancelled in online leftist spaces today, if I managed to summon her ghost to run a keyboard: she didn’t much care for homosexuals, and had never unpacked what was wrong with American History.

But for 3 decades, what she did with her time and her energy and her professional acumen was ensure that Women got the medical care they needed to secure their Reproductive Freedom. Rich and Poor, black and white. Even into retirement, unto her death, she was volunteering time to talk to teens about Sex Ed.

She was Silent Generation. Born in the 30s.

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My Father’s Mother was a Storyteller. She’d been a schoolteacher in her working days, and she had an ability to talk to children and get them to open up to her that impressive to watch. She collected Stories everywhere she went, and liked to volunteer to tell stories to children in libraries.

Her collection was very heavy on the myths and legends of Native Americans. She went into white Christian neighborhoods and filled the heads of the children there with tales of Skywoman and Emergence Tunnels; of Coyote and Crow; tales where the moral of the story was about being Respectful citizens of the Web of Life.

You gotta get ‘em young, she’d say.

She scrounged around the southwest, in estate sales and flea markets, looking for pieces of Art and Craft that belonged to the displaced Natives, and getting them in the hands of Heritage Collections, Schools, and Museums.

She encouraged her children and grandchildren to make friends of many kinds, and when my cousins married outside of our race, grandmother was the fastest and loudest about welcoming them into our Family; about calling them Family.

When she passed, the world became a little more racist, not less.

•

I have journal entries and stories that go back farther still.

I have a story about an ancestor, who, when presented with orders to displace the Cherokee, chose to hobble his commanding officer instead.

I have a story about a pair of brothers buried out in Kansas City, who’d fought next to Negroes in the Civil War and drawn pistols in defense of them in the times afterwards.

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We’ve always been here: those with our eyes on the future. Those who want to leave this world better than we found it. Those who Object.

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So, why does Bigotry persist? From whence Racism and Sexism and Fear of the Other?

Ignorance. Failure to Educate. The propaganda of those with nefarious goals and too much money. It is a thing which will sprout, like a weed, from the rich soil of desperate, ignorant people who seek easy and external answers to the question of “why do I suffer?” It is a thing which must be continuously fought against.

If no one ever told you that the earth goes around the sun, what would the evidence of your senses tell you? Without Education from Elders, we are left only with the limited experience of our own lives. Bigotry is an easy story to arrive at. It takes travel and experience to inoculate oneself against it; requires time spent amongst Others, expanding your worldview, to prevent it sprouting spontaneously from lived experience.

You cannot just wait for Bigotry to die off.

Some of the Elders are ones who fought to make it better, and without Elders, the Young will make the same mistakes. The wheel turns. Society is never Finished. It is never Complete.

But, if you are young, remember;

You can’t wait for the Old to die off. You must begin fighting now. Remember to keep some eyes on your flanks; the next generation of Bigots is growing up right next to you. You are not immune. That said:

You are not alone in this.

A lot of your Elders are already fighting on your behalf, and we will not let this current crop of assholes undo all of our fucking work!

Let us help you! We want to help you!

You’re who we did all this work for, after all.

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Listening to the latest WBN episode's ending, and that ending gave me vibes of: Steel: "Sky! There you are! Hello, Starlight. You certainly gave everyone a scare. They're all just thrilled to see you safe and sound." Sky: "Um, hi? I..." Steel: "As for this latest little game of yours, thank the stars it's over. Did you have fun? Did you get everything out of your system?" Sky: "I..." Steel: " Good, good. Everyone is so relieved. Welcome home, Sky".

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I asked a friend of mine whether he thought I should text my crush and he said "Yes, death is coming." like whoa slow down Dostoyevsky I'm trying to have romantic handflappy girlvibes brunch with you not join the Petrashevsky Circle

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you: suck my dick me, an intellectual: inhale my richard

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The Onion continues to never miss

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“Temporary stitches” all stitches are temporary if you have a pair of scissors and aren’t a coward