your talks about knowing if someone is a fictive or not is fucking hilarious because like- for us SPECIFICALLY I’m essentally front personified and thus the perm fronter and front gatekeeper as of now but like!!!- for us we operate a lot on what we can (phantom) feel, hear or see- like yeah it’s not most clear but like- suddenly feeling picked up or splatted against a wall but not SEEING it happen to the body and KNOWING it’s not happening to your body is a REAL FAST reality check, drawing something and suddenly feeling like there’s wires under your skin shocking you half to death bc youmanaged to actually draw a brain buddy without realizing even more so.
would recomend checking to see if the voices register as “not yours” or “in another language”- even if you register the words and language if it doesn’t FEEL like what you know as yours/body’s you should check shit out- we primarily use body’s voice or I’m limited to it- however I DO register the spanish and such languages at times and I can 10000% tell you that juanaflippa threatened someone with a gun bc she didn’t want to see a “not my mate” throwing themself on me and I 1000% registered those words as rusian despite body being english only and the voice she had at her disposal as ONLY the body’s voice.
idk if any of this will help anyone but it MIGHT be more aproachable to ask them to say/do something a certain way involving your senses and check that way than other methods,,
AGH THATS SO TRUE. this is nicer than me going "annoy them" BAHAHA
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Zote the Mighty, Knight of Great Renown!
Forgive me for prying, but I'm a little caught up by something, and, admittedly, I'm curious..
Despite your grand and obvious strength, you bear such an impertinent name. One with offensive meaning, suggesting weakness and ignorance!
Are you aware of this? And, if so, did you give it to yourself? Surely not. That would go against Precept Thirty-Two!
Was it the name your mother granted you? I would discard such offensiveness and bear a new name of my choosing if I were you. Something that accurately represents yourself!
[OOC: Is this too hard of a question. I wanted something unique. Also! This ask blog is awesome. You've done a great job! I hope you enjoy it as much as we do. :)]
What? No, that's--
Where did you hear of such nonsense?! My name hasn't any "offensive" meaning! What a contumelious accusation! Utterly preposterous!
Do you claim such insulting things to every bug you learn the name of? Or do you think it wise to be so bold with a knight of my renown?
As a matter of fact, I did choose this title! For it is a name of strength! Prowess! Unwavering confidence! To even suggest otherwise is a despicable slight against me and shall not be tolerated! For it implies I would name myself such a depreciatory thing, when I would never be so pitiful!
Perhaps you would be better suited to hold your tongue in the future, cur, for I may not be merciful on any further attempts to slander my name!
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the older I get, the more the technological changes I've lived through as a millennial feel bizarre to me. we had computers in my primary school classroom; I first learned to type on a typewriter. I had a cellphone as a teenager, but still needed a physical train timetable. my parents listened to LP records when I was growing up; meanwhile, my childhood cassette tape collection became a CD collection, until I started downloading mp3s on kazaa over our 56k modem internet connection to play in winamp on my desktop computer, and now my laptop doesn't even have a disc tray. I used to save my word documents on floppy discs. I grew up using the rotary phone at my grandparents' house and our wall-connected landline; my mother's first cellphone was so big, we called it The Brick. I once took my desktop computer - monitor, tower and all - on the train to attend a LAN party at a friend's house where we had to connect to the internet with physical cables to play together, and where one friend's massive CRT monitor wouldn't fit on any available table. as kids, we used to make concertina caterpillars in class with the punctured and perforated paper strips that were left over whenever anything was printed on the room's dot matrix printer, which was outdated by the time I was in high school. VHS tapes became DVDs, and you could still rent both at the local video store when I was first married, but those shops all died out within the next six years. my facebook account predates the iphone camera - I used to carry around a separate digital camera and manually upload photos to the computer in order to post them; there are rolls of undeveloped film from my childhood still in envelopes from the chemist's in my childhood photo albums. I have a photo album from my wedding, but no physical albums of my child; by then, we were all posting online, and now that's a decade's worth of pictures I'd have to sort through manually in order to create one. there are video games I tell my son about but can't ever show him because the consoles they used to run on are all obsolete and the games were never remastered for the new ones that don't have the requisite backwards compatibility. I used to have a walkman for car trips as a kid; then I had a discman and a plastic hardshell case of CDs to carry around as a teenager; later, a friend gave my husband and I engraved matching ipods as a wedding present, and we used them both until they stopped working; now they're obsolete. today I texted my mother, who was born in 1950, a tiktok upload of an instructional video for girls from 1956 on how to look after their hair and nails and fold their clothes. my father was born four years after the invention of colour televison; he worked in radio and print journalism, and in the years before his health declined, even though he logically understood that newspapers existed online, he would clip out articles from the physical paper, put them in an envelope and mail them to me overseas if he wanted me to read them. and now I hold the world in a glass-faced rectangle, and I have access to everything and ownership of nothing, and everything I write online can potentially be wiped out at the drop of a hat by the ego of an idiot manchild billionaire. as a child, I wore a watch, but like most of my generation, I stopped when cellphones started telling us the time and they became redundant. now, my son wears a smartwatch so we can call him home from playing in the neighbourhood park, and there's a tanline on his wrist ike the one I haven't had since the age of fifteen. and I wonder: what will 2030 look like?
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It's that time of year again where Mari Lwyd starts to be talked about and shared around and an INCREDIBLY misleading post gets shared a lot. As someone who grew up with Mari Lwyd I wanted to clear some things up.
Also hello, if you are unaware who Mari Lwyd is. This is about the Welsh tradition of the horse skull who visits houses during the Christmas to New Years period in Wales asking for alcohol.
First off and probably the most important one:
Mari Lwyd is not a cryptid!
I can not emphasise this enough. She. Is. Not. A. Cryptid. There is no story or mystery about a ghost or zombie horse roaming the Welsh valleys. She's not even supposed to be a ghost or a zombie. It's just a horse skull on a stick with a guy under a sheet. She's a hobbyhorse and a folk character used to tell Welsh stories and keep songs alive. When people spread the misinformation that she's a cryptid, it's the equivalent of saying Kermit the Frog is a cryptid.
She is actually only one character in a wider cast of characters who go door to door or, in more modern times, pub to pub. The cast of characters can change town to town and village to village but there are some common ones I see time and time again. The Leader, the Merryman, The Jester and The Lady are just some I see regularly. Punch and Judy used to be more popular a few years ago but I haven't seen them in a while as their tradition has mostly fallen out of popularity. In most cases, almost the whole cast will be played by men. Even the characters are considered and referred to as female. Though this again depends and varies by which group is partaking in the Mari Lwyd tradition.
This point also goes onto my second point,
Mari Lwyd does not rap.
I think this comes from a very common misunderstanding of what rap is vs spoken word. Rap is a very specific style of music originating from the African American communities of the USA and has it's own structure and motifs unique to it. It's a lot more complex than people give it credit for as a style of music and just flippantly assign anything similar to it as being rap. If someone is talking fast or reciting poetry, it is not rap. Or anything that is an exchange of words between two people is not a rap battle. Mari Lwyd does not do rap, actually something that gets left out of these posts is the fact Mari Lwyd does not even speak. It's actually the Leader, who does all the speaking and song based banter between the house/pub owner for entry. Mari Lwyd just clicks her mouth, bites people and bobs her head around.
I think Mari Lwyd is a really beautiful and unique part of Welsh culture. She's not actually as wildly celebrated as a lot of the posts make her out to be. Actually, I think most Welsh people themselves learn about Mari Lwyd through the internet as well. Her popularity is increasing thanks to the drive of local groups wanting to keep the traditions alive and a renewed desire to document Welsh traditions before they're gone. Which is why it's such a shame that she's turned into something she's not to earn horror points on the internet. I think this is why it bothers me so much to see the misunderstandings of the culture and the folk tradition. Mari Lwyd's origin is very hot debated as well as how long it's been going on for. But I think it's thanks to a lot of traditions like this that the Welsh language and our stories weren't lost forever. Welsh culture is recovering as is the language. But it's still in a very fragile place. I think it's why it's important to document and correct information when it's spread.
Anyway, if you want to see the tradition in action, here's a lovely video from the Cwmafan RFC going to one of the pubs for charity. It includes the song exchange with the pub owner for entry and the whole pub singing and joining in once Mari Lwyd and the rest are inside.
As well with another video from St Fagan's showcasing the more traditional and door to door form with the larger cast.
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