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"I've noticed that all [of them] latch onto whatever their headcanon is and won't tolerate anyone reminding them that their fantasy is an internal fanfiction only. I think we all have headcanons, but only the truly autistic insist that their headcanon is actually a hidden truth that they're revealing for the world."

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I really like this artwork from the GameFAQs section on the Shaman from Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous. Most of the class sections in the FAQ use art from the game, but I couldn't find this portrait anywhere when I tried making a new character. A search seems to indicate that this is a half-elf, but that's all. I would really like to use it in-game, although I suppose I'll have to treat it as a custom portrait. Link to the GameFAQs page: https://gamefaqs.gamespot.com/ps4/324475-pathfinder-wrath-of-the-righteous/faqs/80843/shaman

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I realized that, based on her obsession with death and poisons and nonchalant way of announcing it: Ingun Black-Briar is a lot like Wednesday Addams.

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Thumbnails I did for my teas on Adagio.com They are based on Skyrim characters. (Rionach is my friend's dovahkiin oc, and Ferwyn is my bosmer oc.) These are a bit dated by now, but I still appreciate them.

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I've been sick most of the week, although some hot tea made me feel better for a while. I discovered this on a food blog; the author is an affiliate of Adagio Teas, and has come up with a number of blends inspired by books. This is Ma's Apple Pie, from the Little House series: https://wonderlandrecipes.com/2017/01/10/mas-apple-pie-tea-little-house-books/

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I listened to this again today. It's usually sobering as it is, but it made me really worried this time. "If I wasn't here tomorrow, would anyone lose sleep?"

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Vincent didn't want me to let him go. I love that little guy.

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"So why do Leviathan and Behemoth exist? Was God required to create them somehow?

"This goes back to the problem of evil."

"It is important to remember that the Book of Job is explicitly a story; not a historical event (God did not allow Job’s children to be killed just to “win a bet” as it were; Job and his children are fictional). It is a divinely inspired meditation on the nature of suffering unjustly.

Leviathan and Behemoth are similarly not real beings created by God. They are metaphors for primordial chaos and destruction.

More accurately they represent the ABSENCE of God’s peaceable order and protection.

That point is key, because just like Evil and Death, they are not created things; they are absence (though the term is also used to describe an event that causes the absense); evil is the absence of rightly ordered good and death is the absence of life.

"Many stories like to personify evil (many mistakenly make this The Devil, but while he chooses to perform acts devoid of God’s goodness, he was created by God to be good and so is not, in fact, pure evil… no creation of God can be completely absent of His goodness, but his immortal pride just makes him hate and deny that aspect of himself even more) and/or death and to make it not just a created thing, but a created person. But they are only so in stories.

"So too are Leviathan and Behemoth personifications of the absence of God’s order in a story about Man’s relationship with God and their experience of harmful events.

"To sum it up, Leviathan and Behemoth exist because a divinely inspired Jewish author chose to present the absence of God’s order in Creation as personified beings (probably because the concept of all Creation being entirely a construct of God’s sustained will; that if He ever ceased to will our existence Creation would become nothingness; is a pretty abstract concept for the average person to grasp, but a mighty warrior fighting a beast seeking to consume us is something easily visualized)."

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I've listened to several songs from Immersion, but cannot believe I overlooked this one. I can't really make much sense of the lyrics, but the beat blew my mind.

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Where to find me as your bookkeeper, consultant, or someone you just want to shoot the shit with for 30 minutes. I'm trying to raise money to keep our house, and cover medical bills for Spy Boy.

Website: https://windsorsolutionsllc.com/

X or whatever: https://x.com/WindsorSolGA

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/windsorsolutionga/

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/company/windsor-solutions-llc

Personal LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/jonathanefarr/

Alignable: https://www.alignable.com/savannah-ga/windsor-solutions

Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/virulentj

ProAdvisor: https://proadvisor.intuit.com/app/accountant/search?searchId=WindsorSolutions

Calendly (for conversations): https://calendly.com/jonathan-e-farr

Landing page: https://resource.windsorsolutionsllc.com/get-a-free-consultation-from-windsor-solutions

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61574133929945

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I've made this before for my parents. We all enjoyed it; glad the recipe was still up. I think I'll make it again this summer.

Catherine – Summer Squash Pasta (Catherine)

Peppy, seductive and somewhat complicated, Catherine is Vincent’s dream girl and she’s thrown his life upside-down. I’m exactly half way through the game at the moment, and I’m rather confused about who Catherine is and what her intentions are. I’m trying to dissuade her; being polite but firm. Though Vincent’s exclamations when ogling a revealing text while sitting on the toilet make it very hard to resist… Not that I think Katherine is the better choice - I just want him to escape from both of them if he can! I’ve chosen the Summer Squash Pasta for Catherine because it’s the only dish that’s related to her in the game, when she orders it from Chrono Rabbit. Maybe it’s the source of her charms.

Click ‘Read More’ for the full recipe!

Keep reading

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"All Saint Veronica did was wipe the face of Christ with a cloth as He was being led off to crucifixion, a single moment of compassion and pity. And she was granted sainthood for the act.

If you only write one book in your whole life, and only sell 600 copies or less, nonetheless, I assure you, I solemnly assure you, that this book will be someone’s absolutely favorite book of all time, and it will come to him on some dark day and give him sunlight, and open his eyes and fill his heart and make him see things in life even you never suspected, and will be his most precious tale, and it will live in his heart like the Book of Gold.

Let me give you three examples to support my point: VOYAGE TO ARCTURUS by David Lindsay had perhaps more effect and influence on me in my youth than any other book aside from WORLD OF NULL-A by A.E. van Vogt. To be fair, I misinterpreted both books, and took them to be preaching a resolute form of scientific Stoicism, an absolute devotion to sanity and truth which I doubt either author would recognize. I never wrote Mr. van Vogt a fan letter, despite that my whole life was influenced by him (but I did write a novel to honor him). Had it not been for his books, I never would have studied philosophy in High School, never would have gone to Saint John’s in Annapolis, never would have read the Great Books. I never would have met my wife.

As for Mr. Lindsay, he sold less than 600 copies of his book, and died in poverty, ignored and forgotten, of an abscess in a tooth any competent dentist could have pulled. And this is a book luminaries such as Colin Wilson, C.S. Lewis, and Harold Bloom regard as seminal. Mr. Wilson called it the greatest novel of the Twentieth Century.

The third example is my own. I wrote a short story called AWAKE IN THE NIGHT for the website of Andy Robertson, and was paid enough to buy a new stove. People have written me to say that this tale inspired dreams and nightmares, inspired new resolve, inspired hope, and at least one woman who was in the midst of her most wretched hour of despair, said she found strength just from the one description of a star appearing through the darkest clouds. What these readers see in my work is far beyond what I have the power to put down on the page: the hand of heaven touched that work, and those readers who express awe are seeing not the author’s hand, but the hand of the Creator who is author of us all, who guided the work without my knowledge.

I was luckier than Mr Lindsay in that I have gotten the letters and applause from admirers denied him, but like him,  I have no idea of what future generations, if any, will read and admire my work. I will never know. It is beyond my event horizon. So that is not why writers write.

I write for that one reader I will never see, the one who needs just such a tale as I can pen, in just such a time and place, some rainy afternoon or dark hour, when providence will bring my book into his hands. And he will open it, and it will not be a book, but a casement, from which he will glimpse the needed vision his soul requires of a world larger than our own, or a star in a heaven wider and higher than ours, a star aflame with magic more majestic than any star mortal astronomers can name.

I humbly but strongly suggest you write for that unknown reader also, and not for worldly praise, or influence, or pelf, or applause. The world flatters popular authors, and the clamor of the multitude of brazen tongues is vanity. It is dust on the wind. The unknown reader will greet your work with love. It is a crown of adamant, solid and enduring.

You will never meet that one reader, not in this life. In heaven he will come to you and fall on his face and anoint your feet with tears of gratitude, and you will stand astonished and humbled, having never suspected."

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"Experience shows that the belief that every human being is a beloved and valuable child of God takes a lot more faith than the mere belief in some god or other."

I really don't want to keep financially supporting someone I can't stand, but I don't really have much to say against this statement: "You live in this time and place, and here you see someone in need. Missing the opportunity would be a sin of omission." (See James 4:17 and Luke 10:25-37).

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I had a tough time emotionally the last couple of days. I was thinking about a guy I used to work with whom I invited over the one time I ran a tabletop game called "Sexy Battle Wizards." He really made me laugh. He got a job somewhere else, and I sometimes miss just hearing his voice. He showed up just as I was leaving work, and I got to hug him and tell him how I was doing, but I was kind of in a hurry to leave, so it was an awkward conversation. I felt like I blew my opportunity, especially since I didn't think to ask him about his wife, who's been ill with cancer.

Then, last night, I happened to rewatch something that I'd stumbled upon, and it was probably a bad idea:

It hurt my heart all over again. I felt the need to go back and read the memorial I wrote for Jackson after he died. And I worry that I might never see Kent again, and that I blew my chance to have a real heart-to-heart with him.

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From all the political and philosophical stuff I've ever read, I draw the following conclusion: No one knows or can prove anything. Just do what you want.

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The best trope of all is:

Doing the right thing will have terrible consequences.

They do the right thing.

They suffer for it.

But in the end, doing the right thing allows things to work out better than they could have imagined.

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I had a string of thoughts today that may not make sense, but: Last night, I had a dream that I think I'd had before. I was in an upper-floor room in a house that I'd found myself in, and in that room, I found my late cat. He opened his eyes and I got to pet him; I miss it. I even took a video of him to prove that he was alive again. When I woke up, I was disappointed that it was just a dream. Later today, I took a short break from work to look at a photo I had of him, and it made me choke up. I thought, "I hope no one destroys the only mementos I have."

I then happened to remember a scene from The Name of the Wind where Kvothe gets even with a bully who beat him up by finding his hiding place, and sets all of his keepsakes on fire. The bully was a horrible individual, but that was just petty cruelty. I hope Patrick Rothfuss isn't like his protagonist.