politeanarchy

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someone stuck a coin to the floor in front of the good omens bench in st james park

Hiya! :) Hehe, yas I've heard about that, absolutely brilliant! :D <3

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Don't think anyone's done this yet

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Fanbinding(ish): Good Omens by Terry Pratchett & Neil Gaiman

(More photos below the cut, and I'll add the rest in another reblog.)

I had the idea for this four years ago. I actively started on the typeset about two years ago. I finished the typeset in about two weeks before the NG news broke--in fact I'd sent him an ask on tumblr just before he left, asking him if there's an explanation for Good Omens's inconsistent dropcaps. Maybe I'll ask the publisher.

Anyway! I almost didn't keep going, but I'd already put an insane amount of hours into the typeset, and also, fuck it. So I did it mostly for me, but also for Terry Pratchett, and also for the vine.

For those who aren't familiar, a red-letter Bible is one where everything Jesus says is in red. I thought it would be funny to do one where everything the antichrist says is in red--and then I also thought it would be funny to do pull-out quotes like my Catholic Youth Bible had, and then I thought, why stop there, and that's when things started to get weird. Trying to get the text to line up coherently around the trees and the mountains especially was delicate--and of course if I changed something on the page before it would throw everything out of whack.

The cover was inspired by those giant Bibles with covers that are an inch thick with a cross or something like that debossed in the middle. The text wasn't long enough to make it that thick, but it's two layers of thin board glued together. Leather on top, and then I used a foil quill to do most of the design--anything that's a circle is a brass stamp.

I make the design on Illustrator, and then had the cricut trace it onto the foil with a sharpie. I found that a lot more effective than printing it out and trying to do the foil quill through the paper stencil. I'll let you try and guess what shape I used instead of a cross, and will put the answer under the cut.

Doing gold page edges was a bitch and a half; I sanded off attempts about a dozen times. Fake gold was a bust; so was heat activated foil. I ended up doing one layer of acrylic paint and about five layers of gold acrylic.

And because I got this a lot about My Immortal: no, I'm not going to share the typeset. Even before Everything, I feel fine justifying this because I own the paperback, the deluxe edition hardback, the DVD, the script book, and the coffee table book. But I'm not actually into book piracy. (Unless you are the Terry Pratchett estate, in which case, sharing is caring.)

I'll do another reblog with the rest of the interior images.

(And for those who were looking for it: the cover is, of course, the dread symbol Odegra/the M25 motorway.)

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Tl;dr how you can personally make Neil Gaiman lose money (and not be a jerk to others.)

I see a lot of folks upset that NG will financially benefit from residuals and other compensation surrounding his involvement in the adaptation of Sandman and Good Omens (and he will.) But the answer isn’t “rage at the fans who are so emotionally attached to their blorbos because they grieve differently, and then somehow NG will be financially punished.” That’s lower-class/middle-class thinking. NG is too rich and financially diversified to really be hurt by little boycott or a couple of show cancellations (though said cancellations can cause life-changing poverty to the little guys who signed contracts and turned down other opportunities before all of this came out. Boy does NG love women in poverty 🤮)

So if you want to substantially reduce the wealth of someone at NG’s financial level—you need to do it with professional services fees.

Details below the cut:

The firm that NG has apparently engaged for online reputation management (ORM), called edendale, was once paid for their professional testimony in an unrelated slander lawsuit, which was delivered in the form of a report (2) outlining the strategy ORM firms use and (2) just how ludicrously expensive those professional services cost. (Credit to horrornobody77 for digging up the report.) We’re talking hundred of thousands of dollars for a small potatoes case, where NG’s could easily get into the millions for ORM and associated legal fees.

It’s not that long of a read, but to summarize the key action items you can take:

📆 -ORMs wait for the discourse to die down, because active discourse is much more expensive to counter. Wanna cost NG money? Talk about the accusations over time. Set a quarterly calendar event in your phone to remind yourself to post (and otherwise engage on other people’s posts) about the Vulture article. This needs to happens for years, so that NG has to pay for more comprehensive ORM and for longer.

✅-Make discourse that is Google-friendly. Use the words edendale will find concerning (they’re already running fluff pieces with the terms Neil Gaiman Uncovered to try and bury the similarly named subreddit.) If you just post a link without much comment, it’s not gonna be prioritized by search engines. Similarly, if you make a low effort post and then no one else engages with it—it’s not going to make it to the top ten search results. Engage with each other, for heaven’s sake!

🦾-Don’t let the fluff sit unaddressed. If you see random bot posts sharing NG quotes captioning random fantasy art (possibly AI or misattributed /stolen) with the comments turned on? Respond! Make it hard for the bots to understand your comment but easy for humans. “Nice quote! Mega bummer about what NG did, I used to really like him,” is hard for a bot to auto-delete. “Fuck NG,” is practically doing the bot’s autodelete command for it.

✍️ -If/when you post fan works for properties strongly related to Neil Gaiman, leave a lil callout in the author’s notes. Nothing that will get you sued, just a few words like: “I would definitely personally choose to not ever meet Neil Gaiman at a comic con.” Maybe throw in a link to your fav tumblr summary.

Anyway, to the person being paid hundreds or thousands of dollars per hour by Neil Gaiman for professional services—you’re welcome for the extra billable hours 😘

Also Edendale sounds like a law firm in a Good Omens legal AU fic, and I can’t believe it’s real.

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Holy water thermos prayer box necklace, sterling silver

Next up in my apparent series of wearable containers. The thermos is such a lovely symbol of Aziraphale’s trust and love, and I really liked the idea of making it as a kind of prayer box.

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The Good Omens 2 set:

Job’s burnt out barn in a Companion to Owls

“Burnt wood effect using my pink Crocodile skin roller. My favourite way to achieve a quick charred wood effect if not burn n' brushing with the real deal”

"Black Idenden brushed or trowelled on and rolled over with one of these snakey bad boys from Marmorino tools. I use the Crocodile, Snake and Viper textured rollers interchangeably.”

“Damp brush dragged lightly to soften slightly. Then dry brush Black Polish or Bona Mega Gloss, depending on your preference. Very, very easy effect. David Tennant may or may not like it.”

“Cheat your way to fake solid oak beams[..] speedy broken beam trick a quick way to make solid looking beams out of four sarking planks boxed together ~ end fill with a squoosh of Frothpak, scag up with the turkey saw and paint in to match. [..]"

via: scenicartistglover on insta.

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For the Star Wars Day (May the Fourth / May the Force Be With You) there was shared (with the permission of the Pratchett Estate ) a Terry Pratchett story from the Star Wars Universe that was only published in a newspaper 45 years ago! Very excited to read a new Terry's piece! :)❤ (tweet)

Also, Terry Pratchett writing fanfiction 45 years ago, can I hear a wahoo? :)

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Crowley’s Mayfair flat design (concept art) for season 1 was inspired by an art installation in the Royal Academy of Arts called “Sensing Spaces”; in particular this piece from Grafton architects.

This installation “aimed to evoke the experience of contemporary architecture within a neoclassical environment”. Especially the light “coming in” from overhead was the most important aspect.

Most poignant of all was to recreate the light sensation of both moon and sun simultaneously.

The spatial qualities of light and shadow shaped the installation by Yvonne Farrell and Shelley McNamara of Irish firm Grafton Architects. The architects suspended large wooden structures from the ceilings of two galleries to recreate the experiences of both sun and moonlight.

The structures by Grafton Architects, founded by Shelley McNamara and Yvonne Farrell, hover above Gallery IX and the Lecture Room, suspended from the roof lights above. In order to create a strong spatial tension between adjacent rooms and to set up different lighting scenarios, two dramatically different compositions have been made. Choosing only to work with the roof lights, both installations feature a series of suspended surfaces and forms that manipulate the light and reshape the space in two entirely different ways; one as an exploration of lightness, with what is referred to as a waterfall of light, and the other being the exact opposite, exploring weight, containment and the formation of carved-out space. In the Lecture Room, a series of dark, brooding and apparently massive solid forms obscure most of the existing ceiling and roof light, articulated by two relatively small, high-level ‘apertures’ or openings of light. In contrast to this, Gallery IX features nine blades, suspended in alignment with the gallery’s exposed trusses to reflect a balance of natural and artificial light filtered through the exposed roof light. While both installations drop down within the galleries to create an implied headroom of 2.5 metres within the 8.5-metre-high spaces, two entirely different relationships are established between the floor and the light. In the Lecture Room, the installation intensifies the perception of distance between the floor and the light, while in Gallery IX the hanging blades bring proximity and unity. By quoting American architect Louis I. Kahn’s statement that ‘to hear a sound is to see a space’, Grafton Architects allude to a consistent ambition in their work to make space tangible. As they put it, they seek to ‘make as much nothing as possible’, and to structure space through the careful orchestration of the passage of light and movement through the void. In response to what they refer to as an ‘amazing generosity of space’ within the Main Galleries of the Royal Academy, their installations set out to radically transform each visitor’s perception of the familiar. As such, between Gallery IX and the Lecture Room the architects have created two distinctly different scenarios which, when experienced side-by-side, set up a powerful spatial duality and tension that reinforces the qualities of the existing rooms while radically transforming them into something new. (for a complete 360 view of the rooms)

‘As well as enabling us to find greater pleasure in the spaces we inhabit, this exhibition will perhaps heighten our awareness of the sensory realm of architecture and thereby encourage the creation of a more rewarding built environment.’

From Michael Ralph: Crowley’s flat was the first piece of concept art he did before booking the job, and it stayed the same. He sent in seven pieces of concept art before he went for an interview, and four of them stayed exactly as they were – nothing changed from his original instinct. The idea of the apartment was for it to be almost a cement tomb but with a very high ceiling (hanging in mid-air) so there was a sense of light coming in from a very high level.

And just a piece I want to highlight: "manipulate the light and reshape the space in two entirely different ways; one as an exploration of lightness, with what is referred to as a waterfall of light, and the other being the exact opposite, exploring weight, containment and the formation of carved-out space."

In a way, the flat has always possessed a bit of light and shadow, something reflected in Aziraphale and Crowley's own essences.

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neil gaiman is seeking $500,000 from the person accusing him of rape because she broke an NDA. i hope that man dies in excruciating agony.

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ok so has anyone done this yet or

(original comic is by Kate Beaton)

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Me in my relentless mission to be a mild nuisance to the South Downs social media management team

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blame the angel. those were very clear instructions, after all.

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the black clothes fade, gradually, wash after wash after wash. shades of very dark grey.

the white pink towels subtly take on traces of other colors, flecks of lint, until they are shades of very light grey.

one day, in the commingled laundry of a single shared basket, they realize that all their worn and comfortable shades of grey harmonize beautifully.

I’m imagining just like, the most banal AU. just life. just an Aziraphale who is an insomniac and a Crowley who works the graveyard shift most days of the week so he can’t sleep except during the day, even on his days off. and their lives overlap at the launderette. and maybe it’s summer and it rains a lot and they always go at around midnight to the same Nite Owl launderette with the neon sign all lit up and the cheeky looking owl on the glass in the front window. 

they set up, always, opposite each other and there is on occasion the elderly shift manager in the middle between them on a little folding chair. he grumbles about damn kids awake at all hours and shakes his head a lot. he falls asleep most nights so it means that the music coming through the tinny speakers in the ceiling is quiet and set always to the top tunes of the 60s. Everyday by Buddy Holly and The End of the World by Skeeter Davis and I’ve Been Loving You Too Long by Otis Redding.

it starts up small at first, just some glances at the only other person doing laundry at midnight on a most unexceptional Tuesday. Aziraphale wonders about why the only other patron wears sunglasses, although, (and he’ll look up at the fluorescent lights and wince) perhaps he has a point. it’ll start with watching Crowley wrestle with a vending machine and doing a very thorough job of cursing it out for eating his coins. it’ll really start with Crowley opening the door for Aziraphale one night, as he struggles it open one-handed, arms full of a blanket in the most hideous shade of beige he can imagine. 

Aziraphale will say thanks, breathlessly, and take one of the machines for bulky-items next to Crowley’s usual spot. 

there will be might I borrow some detergent? and more let me get the door for you moments. there will be forgotten coins and the two of them looking beneath the machines for any that had fallen from previous patrons. there will be singular red socks ruining an entire set of white towels (they’re just slightly pink. pink is okay. pink suits you). there will be a fluorescent light flickering over Aziraphale’s head across the launderette and making the white of his hair look like a halo.

there will be, eventually, Times They Are A-Changing by Bob Dylan playing on the tinny speakers and the shift manager snoring in his plastic fold-up chair and Aziraphale sitting next to Crowley on the wooden bench, circles beneath his eyes and exhaustion in his shoulders. he’ll eventually lie down on the bench and Crowley will slide his denim jacket beneath his cheek, because the pink towels are still in the dryer. 

he’ll stay there all night. long past the time that the towels are dry and the laundry has been folded. he’ll stay there until the sun breaks up over the horizon and filters through the dirty windows, until Aziraphale wakes up and frets over the creases he has left in the denim jacket. 

don’t worry about it.

I am. I know you hate wrinkles.

I’ll let you make it up to me, then.

how?

by letting me buy you breakfast. 

and if the next time the shift manager sees them, back at the Nite Owl launderette on an unexceptional Tuesday with only one laundry basket between them, he decides to say nothing about it at all.

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Yeah Mr. Darcy’s proposal was a complete turd and a half but you gotta understand. You got your life together. A good career, stable income, retirement plan, all that shit together. And you meet this girl. And she’s everything. Clever, outspoken, funny, calls you on your bullshit. Grade A cutie, right? And she doesn’t go out of her way to spend time with you but she’s nice, and sometimes you catch her looking your way in a way that makes you think you might have a shot.

But her family. Holy shit.

First off, it’s p much ALL women, and mostly UNMARRIED women, which at this time means of something happens to her dad then you’re financially responsible for like. Four grown ass adults, potentially forever

Because mom in law is DEFINITELY gonna need someone to take care of her when dad in law kicks it, and they have like. NO money. So already you’re accepting that if all goes well, you’re gonna be one random old bag’s retirement home. That’s expensive and exhausting, yeah? Imagine asking someone on a first date knowing that if they say yes and things go good her high-strung chihuahua mother is gonna move in with you. IMAGINE.

And girly’s other sisters. Well, one is a sweetheart, yeah, and she’s getting engaged so she probably won’t be an issue, but that still leaves two more, and those ones are INSUFFERABLE. Never went to school, dumb as rocks, spend cash like it’s toilet paper

And while one of ‘em’s young still and might grow out of it the OTHER one is actively torpedo’ing her entire family’s reputation by wandering off with random dudes and chasing ass. She’s never gonna work, she can’t build connections, she’s a fucking sinkhole, and she’s being led on by the same goddamn con man ass leeching tit who’s been bleeding you dry while telling anyone who’ll listen that your family is full of ratty thieving bastards.

And if he dumps her after a week- WHICH YOU KNOW HIS BITCH ASS IS GONNA- you’ve got a SECOND UNMARRIABLE GROWN ASS ADULT TO PROVIDE FOR. And you KNOW she’s gonna be a tantrum-throwing little shit about it, and it’s not like you can lock her in the basement or something, you’re gonna have to bring her fucking. Everywhere. And give her an allowance and shit while she contributes zero, because again, she NEVER GOT EDUCATED AND HAS NO MARKETABLE SKILLS. She’s not even good to TALK to. FUCK

And you’re looking at this girl’s father like “please for the love of fuck get your spawn under control, marry them off, get them working on their résumé, learning to sew or be nursemaids or manage staff or SOMETHING, yall got no money and one foot in the grave” and that old man just laughs like “haha yeah, what can you do. lol”

So you’re looking to the mom and finally it’s making sense how she got that twitch in her eye and as MUCH as she is you’re starting to realize she’s the SMART one, desperately throwing her armloads of girls at random men like they’re a bunch of fucking lifeboats bobbing around a sinking ship, like yes Jesus Christ sweetly that life boat IS old and ugly and kind of boring but for FUCKS SAKE PICK ONE

And you look back at this girl who is ALSO REFUSING THE LIFE BOATS BY THE WAY and god damn it she’s still the most radiant thing you’ve ever seen so fine, fuck it, Christ alive, you’ll do it. You’ll shoot your shot. She’s everything you’ve ever wanted in anybody abut it’s not even just about that anymore, it’s about being her best fucking shot at a future, and even if she doesn’t like you all that much she’s still gonna say yes and that might break your heart a bit knowing it’s about the money but who knows, maybe it will at least be civil, or companionable, and even if she doesn’t LOVE you at least you’ll know she’s well and cared for

And so you’ll do it. You’ll take on the neurotic stress mess mother in law, the absent father, the broke ass wingnut no brain no money no future airhead sisters, the bad mannered relatives and the embarrassing behaviour and the impending future of sharing your entire shit with a clown parade of freeloaders, you’ll risk it all and accept the absolute certainty of financial ruin and emotional exhaustion for the rest of your whole ass life and you’ll make your own family deal with it too, you’ll do it, you’ll fucking DO IT, you stupid lovesick motherfucker

And so you go to this chick like “look. Your whole family’s a shitshow. You’ve got fucking nothing and you’re gonna die on the street. But for some reason- and I don’t get it either- I’ve fallen in love with you, and I wish I didn’t, but I did, so I’m telling you that whether you like me or not, I’ll give you everything. I’ll give you everything even if it’s the dumbest shit I ever done. Fuck my stupid Baka ass, I’ll marry you.”

And she looks at you- having heard or considered absolutely none of your months-long internal debate and monologue- and goes “The fuck did you just say about my family, you son of a bitch?”

And the shock of that is enough to jolt you back into a reality where you are able to actually hear and process what just came out of your damn mouth And yeah

Yeah, I think I kinda get it

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“I—I'm afraid it's ridiculous of me to suppose you can help me," she began.

"Always my unfortunate appearance," moaned Lord Peter, with such alarming acumen as to double her discomfort. "Would it invite confidence more, d'you suppose, if I dyed my hair black an' grew a Newgate fringe? It's very tryin', you can't think, always to look as if one's name was Algy.”

—Dorothy L. Sayers, The Unprincipled Affair of the Practical Joker

(Peter Wimsey voice) Let's get something out of the way. I know I look and sound like I personally know Bertie Wooster. I know that my entire mien is that of a devoted attendee of his gentleman's club. I know. Unfortunately I am the smartest person in a ten mile radius and there's been a murder.

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One of our most frequently asked questions (sometimes asked with varying levels of politeness online) is "Should you be wearing gloves?" We made a video to discuss why for most things, the answer is no. You can see the full video, and some more examples of when we do and don't use gloves to handle our collections on YouTube.

Also a shoutout to our @upennmanuscripts colleagues and their excellent educational work on this subject.

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