#and a bit unrelated but maybe also is that sheep looking at me comes back <- is that even a minigame

[mauv-the-bluest-cat-ever]

hey mauv what if zed brings back the gamemaster skin in s10. he did say hes gonna do loads more minigame things

head in hands I !! THINK ABOUT IT!!!!!!! i rotate that thought in my head from time to time. going to explode about it thank you for asking 👍

it would probably be a fresh new skin. maybe ringmaster suit with pink instead of red because branding and shit lol.

and considering this is going to be 10th season there could be a nice parallel with s5 when zed came to hermitcraft. a lot have changed since then. zed could specifically attempt to manage gaming district again ( because i can't really think of why would he bring gamemaster skin back otherwise ) but, for one, he is much more sociable, and hes is probably also more prepared compared to last time xD. probably has some minigames in mind already and how they would connect with each other ( <- you dont even know the shit im imaging here. higher then third dimension zedaph. you agree ) if he is going to be in charge. and minceraft had changed a lot too since then. maybe he will dabble in custom resource packs more.

[catboyolli]

✨ the EXIT EMOTIONS track by track review no one asked for ✨

but i'm still gonna do anyway because i'm a highly opinionated woman

When Blind Channel said "oh yeah, we're totally gonna go heavy in our next album" I didn't fucking think they were talking about the theme and the lyrics lmao (fuck you, honestly), buuuuut the album really sounds heavier compared to LOTSAD, which I very much appreciate.

I loved the album and the direction they're taking musically, even if it seems that they're scared of the number 3. Or maybe they're alergic to it, who knows. But yeah, I'm greatly pleased by this album, it's now one of my favorites from them. I just wish the songs were a bit longer.

Thoughts below (WARNING: it's very long and yeah, I talk shit about some of the songs 💀)

WHERE'S THE EXIT

I love the way this track starts, it has a nice riff and Niko's agressive rap had me so hooked. I honestly don't know what happened after that. I'm gonna guess that Aleksi was tired at 3 AM and mixed parts of other two unrelated songs into this one, because to me the song as a whole doesn't make fucking sense. It's all over the place, trying to be a mix of everything but falling short.

The lyrics of the first verse are cool (especially the blowfish part, I think they liked the concept of a morningstar a bit too much, which is understandable because those are fucking cool), but something has to be said about this:

I've been making enemies out of rockstars All those friends with benefits out of popstars

huh??? enemies out of rockstars????? and 4 out of 6 of y'all are in long term relationships wdym friends with "benefits out of popstars"? get out of here 💀

2. DEADZONE

This is clearly a track engineered to get radio plays, they worked with Johnny Andrews, who produced some singles of the two latest Motionless In White albums.

A perfect track, well rounded, nothing is missing. It has the Blind Channel Big Chrorus™, cool guitars, growls, and Niko and Joel's voices compliment each other so fucking well. I like it a lot and it's giving them their success in the US, so I'm happy with this one.

3. WOLVES IN CALIFORNIA

DHFGBYURGDNGDJK whose idea was to add the "wolf" sound effects? 😂

This one is fun and catchy, the scratching and the riff are cool, and Niko's rap is so fucking on point (I think he said somewhere in an interview that Jason from FEVER333 helped him with the rap in the album, which tracks because he's also credited as a writer in this song, and would you look at this picture of them together in the California house, with a big-ass dog? Zakk Cervini is also credited and boy, when you see the bands he produced for it makes sense why this is a good fucking song.)

The bridge gives me Reincarnate by Motionless in White vibes, and it's my favorite part of the song by far. Also the lyrics are so fucking fun, like:

Back home we used to be the fucking black sheep, sweet Now they calling us a flagship Straight outta Hell - sinking

Amazing, fun, a great track overall *chef kiss* I'd say I can see myself in the middle of a moshpit if they play this song when I (eventually) see them live.

4. XOXO

I'm gonna say that this is Niko's album becaue holy shit, y'all, he's on fucking fire with the screaming and the rapping and the lyrics and the everything. The chorus is another Blind Channel Big Chrorus™ and guys from From Ashes to New fucking delivered too.

And let's not forget about that breakdown, which sure, isn't that big or heavy compared to what other bands can do, but coming from Blind Channel and what we're used to get from them, it's a fucking lot. I hope they do something like this again, because it's one of my top tracks in the album for sure.

5. KEEPING IT SURREAL

This isn't doing it for me, the guitar riff is cool but there's something missing. It makes sense that if you make an album to be played live you are going to need a song that is a bit slower, for both their sake as performers and for the audience. But I don't know, it didn't blow my mind like other songs, maybe I need to give it a few more listens.

Oh, and the transition from the bridge to the last chorus is underwhelming. I was expecting something more after the "please don't", but it never came.

The lyrics are cool tho.

6. DIE ANOTHER DAY

The mandatory ballad of the album, I'll admit I didn't listen to it that much after it was released because I didn't like RØRY's vocals in the verses (and I still don't). It's somewhat good, but it's not at a Bad Idea or Feel Nothing or Enemies with Benefits level of good, y'know.

The lyrics hit you like a truck.

(If you need to ask, yes, I'm still salty about the music video with just the singers and that adds to my dislike of the song).

7. PHOBIA

I am incredibly angry at this song because it has fucking power chords (that reminds me of some Nightwish songs, I wish I could pinpoint exactly which one) and Niko's amazing growls FOR ONLY TWO VERSES. It should be a crime to make a song that starts like the EDM summer remix of a radio friendly song and a catchy chrous, and that then gives you a very brief taste of something really fucking good, to take it away after, like 10 seconds.

I mean, I can't complain when the band has EDM Teen Sensation Alex Mattson in their lineup, but like with WHERE'S THE EXIT it feels like two unrelated songs mixed in one.

Again, deep lyrics, but the music isn't doing it for me.

(It's weird that tracks 5 to 7 were written with Dan Lancaster, who is a well known producer that has been working with Bring Me The Horizon, and yet... I'm not convinced of any of the songs. I wonder why.)

8. HAPPY DOOMSDAY

The relief I felt upon hearing this song can't be described. I don't have that much so say because it has been released a while back and I listened to it a lot, but I like it. It's a good song, like finding salvation in the middle of the trainwreck that are the three previous songs.

9. RED TAIL LIGHTS

This song is amazing, full of energy, very beautiful very powerful. The line "red tail lights is all I got" could be a jingle on a commercial, don't ask me why but it gives me that vibe. It's not missing anything, it combines all of Blind Channel's elements in such a flawless way and it left me very pleased. Niko rapping with the heavy riff killed it again.

I only have one question: why is the guitar solo so fucking short? 10 more seconds wouldn't have killed anyone 🙄

10. NOT YOUR BRO

GUYS. GUYS GUYS GUYS. This one is my absolute favorite in the album, oh my god. These petty motherfuckers can make bangers when they're fueled by rage and spite (at least this time it isn't against the music industry lmaoooo). There's something very 2000ish about the way they sing the chorus and some of the melodies, I swear I heard something like this but less heavy when I was a child and I love it so fucking much. Another perfect song blending everything this band is, and it was produced with just Johnny! To me it's proof that they don't need to go after other songrwiters/producers to make a fucking great track.

BUT OH MY GOD THE BRIDGE!!!!!!!!! NFGJHBJGVDEHNNBY FUCKING AMAZING, I LOVE THIS BAND SO MUCH. THIS IS THE KIND OF PART WHERE I CAN'T HIDE MY HUGE ASS SMILE. IF THEY PLAY THIS LIVE AND I GET TO SEE IT I'M GONNA GO SO FUCKING HARD AND 100% BE JOEL FALLING OVER THE BARRICADE DURING ZITTI E BUONI IN ESC2021 I SWEAR.

I need them being dramatic as fuck while playing this song. I desperately need to see what the live visuals will look like because there's a lot they can do. And I need a music video to go with this song.

I don't understand why this wasn't released as a single and was placed 10th in the album. The people who clocked out after track 7 are missing on such a great gem of a song.

11. FLATLINE

I listened to this one a lot, I love the electronic music vibes it gives, overall it's a great song to listen to and to play live. I gotta say that their stupid cringey dance kiiiiiiiinda ruined the song for me when it was released, but I've been learning to appreciate it a lot more lol

12. ONE LAST TIME... AGAIN

It's a good song to close the album, I liked it a lot too! The verses and the first part of the bridge gives me vague The Weeknd vibes, I don't know if it's the way it's sung or what, but it was the immediate comparison my brain came up with. And the second part of the bridge is fucking cool.

I'm happy we get to hear about the band's breeding kink, because what else could these lyrics mean? 😏

Come insidе One last time again One last time again

I'm happy with the album. I preordered both the LP and the CD without second thoughts and now I'm glad I didn't waste my money LMAO. Congratumothafuckinglations, Blind Channel.

If you made it this far and you still don't want to throw me from a high cliff, I love you and thank you for the patience 💕💘💗💕💘💘

Have some cookies, you deserve it:

[crowandmoonwriting]

Sci-Fi: Dreams and Nightmares, an Essay

You know, I have a problem with sci-fi. That isn't to say I dislike it, I just have a problem writing it, conceptualising it, and enjoying it. I'm a historian, and a traditional medieval historian at that, and I find most of my comfort in the past. My ideas about the future are very dark, and although I explore darkness and even horror in my writing very often, it's a darkness for once I'm not comfortable with. It's a little too close to home, I think. The further into technological advancement we go as a species, the worse I feel about the future. I have a few cyberpunk ideas I came up with in high school or even middle school that I doubt I will ever finish. I can't do it anymore. I feel vaguely sad about it all, and maybe I can work on them someday, even if I just adapt the characters and situations to a genre I'm more comfortable with.

I used to love sci-fi in all incarnations. I have always adored Star Wars and Star Trek. I favoured Star Wars for a while because it smacked more of fantasy, being a space opera and completely unrelated to Earth. It was escapist, it was mystical, it was just a bit closer to my true fictional love, Lord of the Rings. Star Trek I fell in love with later on, as I came to appreciate the social and political commentary and the intricate hard sci-fi aspects (I should note, I only adored the original series, and the other Star Trek media never captured me quite the way it did). When I found Dune, it swept me away, another fantasy, another mystical technicolour dream, and I loved it. When I first saw Bladerunner I was obsessed, and when I first read Asimov's Robot Series I was fascinated.

But something happened when I was in high school. Something that has ravaged my mental health and sense of well-being, my sense of self and my faith in humanity. It's something most of us rely on now, and it's something I can't escape (unless I do finally run away to the woods and live in a cabin as though it's 1470, growing and raising my own food and hunting to have furs to keep warm in the winter etc, as I long to do). I have to be online. I have to be on social media. I have to promote my brand, my writing. I have to be here to be aware of the news (I don't watch live TV at all). And worst of all, most crippling of all, I have to find inspiration. My desire to find media that will take me away (media I don't have to make myself) is what keeps me coming back. It's one of the things that keeps me here.

But I admit, I'm getting very tired. I'm traditional in several senses, and I'm tired. I miss dearly how I used to look at sci-fi. It was a wonder. Even dystopian sci-fi had its charm, its allure, its fascinating aspects. But then whatever electric sheep dreams I had became nightmares. And waking up, I found the nightmares all around me. It's painful that something I used to love I now avoid. Something I used to turn to for fun or pleasure is something I now fear.

But I am determined to love what I can. I am determined to have hope. As someone who's suffered from great mental illness in my life, and has come to a place finally, finally of stability, I think I can now reflect on things. The truth is, whether a dusty tome-perusing historian like me wants to hear it or not, the future is not a nightmare. It's not a dream at all, but reality. And fiction is not reality. Sure, I see things in real life I thought were just nightmares from Orwell's 1984. But I also see dreams, the iPad in my hand filled with hundreds of books, the stylus gliding brilliant colour over a smooth screen, the little device at my side an Alexandrian library of writing and music the likes of which no one in previous centuries could have imagined. I can type up a few words and my friends can respond to me within seconds. Through the gleaming portals at my fingertips I can learn about the entire world. I am connected. And connection is terrifying. It's vulnerable, and I think we're all just trying to figure out how this new type of human connection works.

I do have hope for the future. And I think it's time we saw that in sci-fi. Now I do note, there is some utopian sci-fi media. Star Trek the Original Series being my favourite. But I want to know what you have to say. Writers, artists, musicians, whatever you do, I want to see some hope.

I am not exempt of course! I need to change the way I think about sci-fi too. I need to take that hope in me and make something that will give someone else hope. Or at least let them have a little fun with a book, whether it's a paperback or leatherbound copy, or an intangible but nevertheless legible file. The interesting thing about sci-fi is that it's always somewhat based in reality (in science, of course!), but it's the 'fi' of sci-fi that's the best part. It's fiction. It's the dream. And as we have seen before, the dreams of one generation can become the reality of another. So it's time to write sci-fi with hope. It's time for me to stop being afraid of the future, and start looking forward to it.

[razieltwelve]

My Origin Story

I’m often asked about how I got into self-publishing. It’s something I’ve talked about in previous posts, but I want to talk about it again. It’s been years since I started, and I think time has given me something of a different perspective.

I’ve wanted to be a writer for a long time. However, I first began to take my writing more seriously in high school. I started posting my writing on the internet under various pseudonyms, and I gradually honed my skills. I won’t say I was good back then, but I steadily became less horrible. It still wasn’t something I showed to people I knew in my everyday life, not even to my family. My writing was, in my opinion, still too rough and raw to present to others, except via the anonymity of the internet.

Fast forward to university. I continued to improve my writing as best I could. In fact, I devoted most of my spare time to writing. It was at this point that I began to write fan fiction. Now, I can already tell what some of you are thinking, but writing fan fiction was honestly the best decision I could have made at the time. Fan communities are wonderful things. You don’t have to be the best writer to be welcomed, and you can get access to a far larger amount of critique and advice than you would get as some random lone writer on the internet.

My writing improved markedly during this time since I was now getting regular feedback. Now, obviously, it’s true that most fan fiction readers aren’t professional writers or critics. Sometimes, all you get is “I like the bit where people got stabbed”. Yet amongst all of the one word reviews, random hate messages, and simple but welcome words of encouragement, you do meet people who are genuinely interested in helping you improve. I’m talking about detailed reviews that can be pages long, covering everything from sentence construction to overarching plot critiques.

In my Honours year, I finished my first novel. Before you ask, it’s not something that I’ve published although I do intend to go back and fix it up one day. What mattered wasn’t how good it was. No. What mattered was that I actually finished a novel-length story. It was a bit of mess at times, but it was 100,000 words of original fiction. Sure, it wasn’t great, but it was mine. I actually printed it out and had it bound in a manner similar to my Honours thesis.

During my PhD years, I continued to write, and I began to submit my short stories to fiction magazines while sending out inquiry letters to agents and publishers about my longer stories. Over the four years of my PhD I wrote three novels and many short stories.

And this is where my origin story takes a bit of a dark turn.

Do you want to know how many short stories I got published?

Zero.

Do you want to know how much interest I got from publishers and agents about my longer stories?

Zero.

That’s right. I got absolutely zero interest from anyone about my original fiction.

That’s not a good feeling, let me tell you. It can be very disheartening. I might have thrown myself into fan fiction with a bit more enthusiasm then because at least there, in those communities, people liked what I wrote. Despite all the rejections from publishers and agents, I could at least say that in certain communities, my writing was well-loved and respected.

After bashing my head into the proverbial wall for a couple of years, I began to look into self-publishing. If my writing was genuinely good, then surely I’d be able to sell at least a few copies if I self-published. I wasn’t going to get ahead of myself and predict best-seller status or anything, but I had to be able to sell something, right?

I spent the next few months studying the market and learning how to make eBooks and design covers. Finally, I was ready. The very first book I self-published was The Last Huntress. That book was a labour of love. I pored over every sentence. I obsessed about the characters and the setting. I promoted it as best I could via the communities I was a part of, and then I sat back and waited for the magic to happen.

That last part, the bit about the magic? That was sarcasm.

There was no magic.

In that first month, I sold something like 17 copies.

All told, that translated to around $6.50 for me.

Staring at that result was not the happiest moment of my life. I did the mental arithmetic. Even if I increased my sales a hundred fold, it still wouldn’t be enough for me to make a living via writing. Heck, I could increase my sales three hundred fold and it still wouldn’t be enough.

Luckily, my years of unrelenting failure had somewhat numbed me to this latest failure. I decided to try again. The sequel and some other stories actually managed to do a little better, but that was hardly saying anything. It’s kind of like how if your leg has been cut off, you probably won’t feel the pain of a broken finger all that much.

After a full year of massive failure, my knee decided to explode because of course it did.

Cue surgery.

Cue misery.

Cue six weeks with my leg locked straight in a brace.

Sitting on my couch with my leg propped up beside me, I decided that I wanted to write something different. No more serious fantasy. No more high fantasy. My humorous fan fiction was what had first endeared me to readers, so maybe it was time to write something funny. Besides, it might take my mind off the fact that I had weeks of my leg in a brace to look forward to along with months of physiotherapy.

And don’t even me started on how awkward it was to have a bath or use the toilet.

I was throwing around ideas for what kind of story I could write when a scene came to mind: a necromancer being forced to beat his own wayward creation to death. All I really had was that one scene. It sounded pretty funny to me, so I started writing just to see where it would go.

Two Necromancers, a Bureaucrat, and an Elf is what that idea became.

That book sold more copies in a month than all of my previous books combined had managed in a year. In fact, it managed to outdo all of my previous books combined several times over.

I can’t tell you how much it meant to me to see those numbers rolling in. It wasn’t a bestseller by any means, but it was the first time that I began to think that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t wasting my time, that maybe I could actually do this.

Things have changed a lot since then.

I’ve written more books, and although they’ve had varying degrees of success, they’ve all done so much better than I could ever have imagined during the doldrums of that first year. Humour, it seems, is what I’m best suited to, along with slice of life, and I’m more than happy to embrace that. I’ve even been lucky enough to have some of my books turned into audiobooks.

So there’s my origin story.

It’s easy, I think, to only remember the things that worked, but it’s important to remember the failures too. Writing isn’t an easy thing to do, especially if you’re aiming to make a living out of it. People can be cruel. You’re going to get reviews from people saying that you’re awful, that your story sucks, and that you should quit writing. But you’re also going to get reviews telling you that your story made someone’s day, that you made someone smile, that they can’t wait for the next book.

I wouldn’t be the writer I am today without those years of failure and disappointment. One of the most important qualities to have if you’re going to write humour is the ability to laugh at yourself and to make light of both the very strange and the very mundane. Moreover, a writer should be honest with themselves if they want to improve.

You can argue with reviewers. You can argue with critics. But you can’t argue with $6.50 worth of sales in a month.

I suppose that’s why I tend to be quite sympathetic to the underdog in my writing. I am one. I know what it’s like to put your heart into something and come up empty handed. I had that happen to me for years. I also know how important it is to celebrate the little wins and the small triumphs. Sometimes, they lead to bigger things, and sometimes, they’re all you have.

Well, that’s it. That’s my origin story.

It’s not exactly glorious. It’s filled with more than its fair share of failures. But it is my story. Mine. And that matters. Anyone who tells you that there isn’t some luck involved in the writing business is crazy. Luck is definitely a thing. But just being lucky isn’t enough. It takes years of hard work to become good enough to make the most of that luck, and it takes a certain level of idiocy/stubbornness to keep going despite everyone slamming doors in your face.

It’s a good thing, then, that I’m a lucky, stubborn idiot.

If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.

I also write original fiction, which you can find on Amazon here or on Audible here. Also, just in case you missed it… The Sheep Dragon is out on Audible now! Get it here. It’s 26 and a half hours of fun, humour, and adventure!

[lord-rosenth0rne]

Just thoughts and a bit of a rant on recent events.

You can skip this if you want. I just need to get it out and don’t plan on making a discussion out of it. “You” does not refer to the reader, just to people who have done what they did. I did that on purpose. I promise that every post from here on will be pleasant and unrelated to personal crap.

LONG post under cut.

You know, I have been through a lot with my mother. Growing up, I knew she did not like me and there were a couple of instances where she did things she shouldn’t have done. I was the black sheep, something people tend to forget and what I went through, they pretended it happened to them to fuel their agendas. Half the time I wonder if they actually believe they’ve been abused by her or have taken abuse from someone they’ve dated and imposed it on her because I seriously think that is the issue in one case. Interestingly enough, all three of them were the ‘can do no wrong’ Golden Child at one point or another and one of them got very jealous when the spotlight was not on her. How easily that is forgotten. They feed on drama and like the whole ‘my abusive parent has forsaken me’ angle.

Anyway, Mom’s grown out of a lot of it, become pretty lax about life over the years and has apologized to me for what she’s done. It happened out of the blue one day and caught me completely off guard but it was a nice surprise. I have chosen to forgive her. She also went onto explain that she really did not know how to handle me as I was noticeably different than the others. I was not the girly girl she was hoping for, I had a lot of anger in me, and I did not have the same interests as her and my siblings. I will admit, I was a difficult child and a lot of the memories I had do reflect what she’s told me. She still makes me want to scream at the top of my lungs at times and drives me up a wall to the point I just want to leave but if someone was to go and hurt her intentionally, I will go feral.

I don’t care what she’s done to me and if I have forgiven her, that’s my choice.  I cannot stand hearing that woman cry. It unlocks something in me that makes me want to destroy the cause of it.  Bringing up my past with her to justify your actions against her and telling me I’m wrong to forgive her will make things worse for you. Only those who are in my inner circle are allowed to talk about it without me getting angry. Anyone outside of that circle will be told off. You need to have a damn good reason to make my mother cry. So far, I have been offered none since a lot of the reasons were built on lies and deceit that certain people don’t realize I know or forget I was present. 

Recently, this week actually, someone told a very hurtful, disgusting lie to get their way, claiming my mother threatened them and they were in ‘fear for their life with their unborn child’. That lie spread to people who want to see my mother hurt due to what they’ve done to her in the past and they quickly took that someone’s side. That someone did not realize that I was home during the event they claimed and had witnessed what they did which caused me to come forward with what really happened; Golden Child bit the hand that fed her when she was told no and do something she didn’t want to do. Also, this person is pregnant and Mom was extremely excited for a grandbaby she could actually see and hold. There was no way in hell she would have threatened her.

I also found out that this person was lying to several others. There are harmless little lies that one can tell and no one would be any the wiser. Those are told on a daily basis and mean no harm. We all do it. Then there are lies that could actually protect or save people and could be tolerated, within reason of course. I’m not that unreasonable since different situations will have varying circumstances. However, these were neither. These were tailored to hurt Mom and a severe game-changer that could potentially hurt others if they go on long enough, lies that should have never been started in the first place. They were lies to fulfill a very selfish agenda that now have a very high chance of backfiring. It was going to do so maybe later down the line but it might happen sooner now. I absolutely cannot tolerate these.

When I rectified this by going to the people who had a right to know, I was descended upon by all three Golden Children who want to see my mother hurt. I was told to ‘step off’, that it was ‘none of my business’, and to ‘stay out of their lives’. These people don’t live anywhere near us but think they know everything they need to know about what’s going on. They don’t care that I witnessed what was going and yes, it was my business that the truth got out. It is my business if someone is blatantly hurting my mother. I was not backing down. I was not going to apologize for what I had done. I feel no regret or remorse for those who had started the lies to begin with. In fact, those who supported the liar despite knowing that the accusations were lies are now disowned by me. One actually tried making the entire situation about herself and she lives states away. The fucking audacity, I swear!

I am deeply sickened by the people who thought I should have kept my mouth shut. They cannot be trusted and I feel sorry for anyone who comes in contact with them. They have done so much to hurt others in their short lives that they shouldn’t be allowed in relationships or have kids if I’m honest. They want to point fingers at my mother for past transgressions? What exactly are you doing to the people around you now that makes you any better? One thing I am extremely proud of is I have NEVER gone out of my way to hurt anyone the way they have. I don’t believe in those kinds of lies, I don’t believe in cheating, I heavily believe in Karma which I know is going to be a complete bitch when it hits, I don’t do this sort of shit and they cannot pin anything against me like I can them. Most of the conversations were them stating the obvious about me, thinking they were insults or I was supposed to be ashamed about still living at home. Was that supposed to hurt me? You have meant very little to me over the past couple of years. Even if you had something I was ashamed about, did you think it coming from you would hurt me?

Well, I guess once they realized I wasn’t backing down or out, and/or realized that me being the black sheep for my entire life has given me the advantage of gathering incriminating information that could cause them grief (I honestly have no intentions of airing their dirty laundry unless they decide to do something drastic), they blocked me and it’s safe to say they won’t be coming back even if they want to. I know at least one of them is going to come back to try to talk to me as if nothing has happened but it’s too late. The lack of communication I’ve dealt with and could deal with since we could pick up at any time (I’m not that great with keeping connections with people who don’t live nearby minus part of my inner circle), but the harmful intent is what I cannot forgive. They ‘can’t forgive me’ for telling people who have the right to know certain truths? I can’t forgive them for being horrible people who want to make others as miserable as they are. Mom, at least, apologized for her past and did her best to change. They have not done so for theirs and it will be held against them from now on. They either ignore what they’ve done or pretended it didn’t happen.

What these idiots do not realize that if someone had done this to them, I more than likely would have done the same damn thing for them. It’s one of those situations where NO ONE should go through. Needless to say, they can go back to their miserable little lives and enjoy estrangement. They are not allowed to contact me under any circumstances unless someone has died. I have my family now and I’m very happy with it. 

Though, I want them to try to explain their side of the estrangement to people or why they’ve blocked me. “Oh, she told the truth about what was going on to the right people and it was not right. She should have stayed out of it.” Yeah. Says a lot about your character. Being offended by the truth might be a sign that you need to take a long hard look at yourself and ask WHY you were offended. I just hope they’re happy with their choices and the fact they caused Mom to step back and rethink some things that they may not like to find out. That’s what lying gets you.

What I did was in no way revenge for anything. It was something that was promised to be done weeks ago and was neglected which meant another broken promise. You can hate me for it all you want but I did the right thing. I cannot say the same for you. I am not ashamed of it and I do not regret it. You ‘cannot forgive me’ for it? I cannot forgive you for harming others and trust me. I’m detached enough as it is. What you did was a death sentence with not only my trust but the potential to be forgiven and reunited. I want absolutely nothing to do with you. You’ll be lucky it hasn’t done the same for Mom.

[ii-thiscat-ii]

Oooh, how about The Wizard of Lanata?

Sure. The Wizard of Lanata.

(DVD-style commentary is the single most self-indulgent thing the author has ever done and should be taken with a grain of salt and probably whiskey.)

Again, this is a story of Dipper pretending to be human. Unlike most of the others, the setting is an unimaginable amound of time in the future, probably on a different planet, in a society that has regressed to a medival type technology level.

I have repeatedly stated that I could probably write an entire novel about this story, but I won’t. What I have written was written over the course of two days during December last year, and is rushed, summarized, and probably full of typoes, but I still love it and so do many others.

It just happens to be the perfect blend of TAU and the more Pratchettian medival bizarre village stories, where strange things happen and people learn to live with them. I thoroughly enjoyed writing it and would gladly revisit it if I got a new idea.

Chapter 1

I wanted “Tyrone” to come across as somewhat fey. He was supposed to appear as something that attempted to be human, but didn’t really know what that meant, just like how his sheep seem like they kind of know what a sheep is, but not entirely.

The way it takes him a while to figure out how people are supposed to dress, the way his house materializes overnight, and the way he entirely forgets to age are all important things to have in the introduction, to establish the mood I wanted the fic to have. If there is anything I would change if I rewrote this, though, it’s his name. The whole “old man Tyrone” thing sounds nice, but doesn’t really make sense if he doesn’t look old.

Then there’s the Flock.

It was not unusual for shepherds to bring an animal or two into their houses during harsh, cold winter nights. It was stuffy and it smelled, but it was by far preferable to freezing to death.

Tyrone brought his flock into his home on a very different basis. Unrelated to the seasons, every single sheep in his corral walked into the house once a day, regularly as clockwork. No one could understand how they all fit in there, and no one could understand why, either.

When anyone dared ask, Tyrone only smiled and said, “Well, it can’t do for them to miss their reality shows, now can it?” which made no sense at all.

I always have the Flock watch reality shows if I can. It’s one of those details that are just funny in themselves. Of course, the fact that they can get reality shows in a place where TVs generally don’t exist adds another layer of unreality to the whole place.

Either they’re watching through weird time-shenanigans, or they’re actually getting shows from another planet, which honestly makes more sense.

The conclusion they ended up falling back on was the Tyrone simply did not know the proper method by which to shear a sheep. And that he should probably not be invited to any more shearing events. 

Lanata’s reaction to Tyrone is probably my favourite part of the whole story. Whether he’s doing things that are blatantly impossible, having actual fair folk buy his wares at the farmers market, or having his sheep spy on people and predict the future, he’s not hurting anyone, so Lanata accepts it and moves on.

Of course, there’s also the detail that the sheep never predict the future while he’s around to see, implying that they’re taking the whole “pretending to be mortal” thing slightly less seriously than he does, and that they’re not afraid to have a little fun on his behalf.

The incident with the sheep thieves has been written out and is hilarious. Here.

It’s one of many scenes I had ideas for for this fic, not all of which I could include. I liked the idea of one sheep herder borriwing one of the Flock for studding purposes just because it was ridiculous and we all know it wouldn’t work, but unfortunately I forgot to write in the one where someone somehow burns a truckload of yggdrasil, fogging down the entire valley and accidentally swarming the village with demon sheep high off their asses. Ah, next time.

As any other special thing that happens to such a community and stays around, and that they can do nothing about, they developed a kind of pride around him. Sure, he was creepy and unsociable, and his sheep randomly announced people’s small but dirty secrets to the world, maybe he infuriated people at times, maybe he scared the living daylights out of most of the youngsters who were dared by friends to approach his house at night, maybe eerie music could be heard from his home, and maybe he was a wizard, and wizards were rumoured to be fickle and dangerous, but he was their wizard, dammit, and they were proud if him. 

Incredible what you can decide to be proud of if you can’t remove it.

Tyrone isn’t a wizard, of course, but that’s what people think. At this point in time he’s been around for long enough that going a decade without a proper deal isn’t the biggest problem, which of course leaves him with more time to fuck around, but he does still make deals if they’re offered, and that does probably help the way the village sees him.

He’s not someone whose help you want to need, but if you do, you can get it, and that’s important. It helps cement in people’s minds that he’s not just weird and magical, he’s also powerful, and on average he does good.

The tax collector was funny though. I had a lot of people saying they felt sorry for him, which tells me I wasn’t clear enough about the fact that his demand for one of Tyrone’s sheep was not, in fact, his job, but an abuse of power. It’s a bit of a staple for stories of this genre that the tax collector is someone no one likes and who does no good, and considering how remote Lanata is, you have to wonder if it ever actually gets anything back for its taxes.

Either way, it was a fun joke.

Chapter 2

I wasn’t actually planning for this fic to become as long as it did, but my things have gotten this tendency lately to grow entirely out of proportion. I wasn’t happy about having to chop it up, but in the end, it was probably for the best.

The first chapter was mostly Tyrone and Lanata, and how they feel about each other. In this one, we get more outside views.

Liam is just a random travelling wizard, mostly there to show what Tyrone looks like to one of this planet’s actual wizards. He gets scared quickly and leaves without having any large effect on anything.

The next outsider to try to meddle is a king, because if I didn’t include a king, what kind of genre conventionalist would I be?

The part I like about this passage is that Tyrone himself doesn’t do much to dissuade anyone. All he does is tell two separate people no and then warn the tavern owner that someone is trying to set her house on fire, and letting Lanata sort out its own business.

Only when the king bothers to come himself does Tyrone decide to give him his time of day. This of course ends with the king gaining a lifelong fear of demons and eventually to the Circle of the Dreamers’ Star becoming a national religion, but that’s more or less irrelevant. The point is that Tyrone doesn’t need anything that he doesn’t already have here. He is, in fact, entirely content. I like writing fic like that.

The wizard and his sheep had lived in the house on the hill for so long the oldest woman in the village remembered her grandmother speaking of him as if he had always lived there. For all this time, there had been very little change in how he acted out his days.

Then, Iirah happened.

Iirah is one of my own favourite Mizars. She’s “the old wizard’s beautiful daughter”. She is so much fun, and she changes the game.

At this point, Dipper has been Tyrone the sheepherder, and then the Wizard for several centuries, and it was about time for something to change. Iirah gives him a reason to interact with the townfolk on a more personal level. She humanizes him, in a way, because she is undoubtedly human where he is undoubtedly not, and it creates an entirely new dynamic.

Not to mention all the random theories that arise about where she comes from. We know that he probably just kidnapped her from neglecting parents off another planet, but they still have to wonder if he made her out of straw.

Iirah is also what makes him give the second king a chance, because he is soft as hell for his children’s puppy eyes no matter how old he gets, and Iirah wants to see a castle and wear a princess dress, and honestly she has a great time.

She’s such a spoiled child.

He was numbered among their curiosities, a seemingly normal man with antlers like a stag growing from his head, antlers made of wood and bone with cranberry leaves growing from them. They called him Bet, and he visited the tavern one night that Iirah worked the till. He caught her eye immediately.

Kaleb’s story is one I really wish I could have taken more care with. I don’t think anyone will be surprised to hear he’s a Henry reincarnation, what with the antlers and all.

They’re physical because of an incident in his youth, and they’re also the reason he’s more or less a slave at the point invtime where he enters the story.

I wish I could have had his and Iirah’s meeting flow better, and I wish I could have had a bunch of village boys corner him and tell him that she had never learned to protect herself so if he hurt him they would stab him dead for his own good. I wanted him to be taken in by the village absolutely and completely, only because Iirah liked him and Iirah is the wizard’s daughter. I wanted him to hear rumours about the wizard but never really meet him before he walked out of Iirah’s room that one morning after, to find Tyrone sitting in a chair and looking at him.

I wish I’d found a more elegant way to deal with his name, and what that meant.

“For as long as you are within the boundaries of this village, you will have no name. No designation attached to you will stick, no memories of your previous names will remain, written records will smudge, and spoken words will be caught by the wind.”

I still like this part, though. Any beast can kill someone. Any monster can torture someone, but if something steals your name, you can be pretty damn sure you shouldn’t mess with it. It’s one of those scenes that formed the basis I built the rest of the story around.

And then it ends. Iirah dies, and Dipper can’t stand to live in the village anymore, though he gifts it with enough magic to keep the village special for centuries after, in the form of neon coloured sheep herds.

Maybe some day I’ll sit down and actually write that novel, but for now, this is it for Lanata.

[greatdrams]

A thoughtpiece on naming in Whisky

In branding, everything lies in the name.  If it’s too hard to pronounce, people wont like it, if it’s not related to the product, people won’t respond well or if it’s just plain weird, no one is going to bother buying your product.

Clearly no one sent the memo to Whisky brands however, because they are some of the hardest names to pronounce and some of them aren’t even related at all.

We’ve brought together some of the different Whisky names according to location, founder and just random objects (or are they?) so you can learn a bit more about what it takes to name a Whisky.

  Location

Glenfiddich

Glenfiddich translates as Valley of the Deer in Gaelic and this is a meaning that is not lost on their marketers.  This explains why the deer adorns all their bottles and merchandise and really makes for a recognisable symbol for the brand.  The deer is an animal that is deeply linked to Scotland, a country with a lot of myths surrounding stags, so really this makes a lot of sense.

Ben Nevis

This couldn’t have been a better choice for this brand.  Ben Nevis is the tallest peak in the British Isles and so it’s pretty well known.  There literally couldn’t be a bigger symbol to represent this brand.  It is a great way to capture tourists’ attention as well, since they’ll definitely know that Ben Nevis is a thing, whereas Glenfiddich? Who the heck knows what that is?

Knockdhu

Knockdhu is interesting because it’s called after the area of Knock, where it is locted.  However, the Whisky produced here goes by the name AnCnoc.  Remember that point I made in the intro about brand names being easy to pronounce? And what’s with the weird capitalisation in the middle of a word? Get it together AnCnoc!  It’s actually pretty simply and it pronounced Ah-Knock, and is used in place of Knockdhu so people don’t get confused with Knockando Whisky.

Bunnahabhain

Now is AnCnoc was hard to pronounce then let’s not even bother with Bunnahabhain.  I’ve looked this up and there are conflicting reports about the true pronounciation.  It’s either Boo-Na-Ha-Ban or Boo-Na-Ha-Van.  If any of ou out there knows, please enlighten us!  This distillery is called after the village it is situated in, which means foot of the river in Gaelic.

Oban

What fascinates me about Oban is that before the distillery, there was nothing there.  And then after the distillery, a town sprung up around it.  I love this simply for the fact that is shows the positive impact that the Whisky industry has on the Scottish economy, where a distillery appears and suddenly a town grows around it.

  Founder

Johnnie Walker

The world’s most popular blend bears the name of its founder, John Walker.  This brand was started in Walker’s grocery store, where customers would seek out the young entrepreneur’s home blends.  The brand likes to stay close to their roots, and created a pretty successful ad called The Man Who Walked The Earth in homage to their founder.  John was pretty influential on the Whisky world, so it makes sense that his brand should still bear his name today.

Grant’s

The brand founded by William Grant is today a brand in its own right as well as the owner of several other successful brands.  Just as with Johnnie Walker, William Grant and his family have had a massive impact on the Whisky world and represent many of the brands we love and the distilleries that make them.  so it only make sense that their names should be forever remembered in the name of their Whisky.

Jack Daniel’s

Jack Daniel has become something of a megend in the American Whisky world.  Funny thing is, he was actually called Jasper, which does quite have the same ring to it as Jack.  I couldn’t really imagine anyone ordering a Jasper and Coke at a bar, could you?  There are many myths surrounding Jack, including his methods of marketing his Whisky, which included making himself so memorable that people would never forget his name and therefore his Whisky’s name.  Which in hindsight, really seems to have paid off quite well.

Douglas Laing

Originally founded in 1948 by Fred Douglas Laing and is one of the few companies to remain in the hands of the same family since its beginnings.  But remain it has, and it is now in its third generation of Laing owners.  This company is so into their family ties that they even commemorated the family Fox Terrier with a blend called Scallywag.

Jim Beam

The Böhm family emigrated from Germany to America in the 19th century and changed their name to Beam.  They settled in Kentucky, and this is where the legendary Jim beam Boubron was born.  It was originally started by Johannes "Reginald" Beam and after many years of development was finally left in the hands of James Beauregard Beam.  It became the Jim B. Beam Company in 1935.  The family remained as Master Distillers at the company for many decades after with the exception of Jerry Dalton, who passed away in 2007.  His replacement however, was a member of the Beam family.

  Random

Monkey Shoulder

This one sounds a bit odd at first, but once you know what it is you’ll understand.  Monkey Shoulder is in reference to the way the arm of the workers who turned the barley would droop down after a days work.  this is a traditional reference and one that now adorns the bottle of a very fine blend, despite the fact that labourers aren’t used to turn the grains as often today as they were many decades ago.

Timorous Beastie

This batted malt from Douglas Laing that commemorates the famous poem by Scottish bard Robert Burns.  Douglas Laing are great at naming their Whisky, and this one hits the nail on the head.  It represented a great person in Scottish history while at the same time provides a memorable mascot for the blend to be remembered by.

Cutty Sark

Cutty Sark is named after a magnificent ship, the exact one that adorns its label.  The founders, all the way back in 1923, were hoping to capture the spirit of adventure with the name, and also the ship had just returned to England so it was probably fresh on everybody’s mind.  This was the first Whisky made to be mixed, which during the days of prohibition was becoming more common.

Sheep Dip

This one is an example of naming your product after something unrelated that you probably don’t really want it to be related to.  Sheep dip (not the Whisky) is a mix of insecticide and fungicide in which sheep are bathed with the hope of ridding them of parasites.  Sounds exactly like the kind of thing you’d be reaching for on a lovely summer’s evening.  But the brand seems to have been quite successful despite the name, and lets be honest, we will all definitely remember this one.

The Famous Grouse

Upon first hearing this name my initial questions were what is a grouse and why is it famous?  Of course I have come to learn that a grouse is a type of bird and it was famous as Scotland’s national game bird, the red grouse.  The bird has a name but I can’t quite remember what it is right now, so maybe if one of our wonderful readers knows they can tell us!  The brand was originally just called The Grouse, but clearly they have grown so popular that they had to distinguish themselves from all the other bird based Whiskies on the market.

    The post A thoughtpiece on naming in Whisky appeared first on GreatDrams.

from GreatDrams http://ift.tt/2nCxpRf Greg

[andersonguy-blog1]

Empowerment

A new year, a new me is an exemplary lack-lustrous goal, a goal with little-life in it because it’s aim is to continue to use the outer to complete the inner and in this particular case the outer is in the form of ‘time’. 'A new me’ is a big statement it’s nearly always inflated and elaborate, it doesn’t just hint at small improvements it implies a complete new person and life. The reason I say inflated is because in this context it involves becoming 'bigger and better’ not being humble, gentle, grateful, open, kind. The phrase at the start of this paragraph becomes even more clearly distorted when the idea of becoming 'a person of success with a successful life’ is going to be due to an ambiguous and unrelated cause - a change of date in the calendar. '2017 is going to be the year I make it’ is overlooking the simple truth that one has already made it. One is a perception that one has not yet found life and needs too and the other is knowing they are life itself.

Goals become empowered with divine inspiration when they serve universal intent. Essentially anything that helps us appreciate the fullness of life in the moment is the higher intelligence at work and anything that can help keep us in the dream state of separateness goes against it. Music that connects, ice cream that tastes soooo good, businesses that unexpectedly give back or surprise, inspirational stories, David Attenboroughs commentary and the production of planet earth and so on are things that humanity offer to enhance the moment of the now. Nature, the solar system, beautiful scenery, beautiful animals and the space that allows everything to exist are the greatest enhancements to the now though and they are created by the same intelligence that created us. We are one and whole with the source of all life, we are intrinsically connected to a higher intelligence greater than ourselves and we are here to serve it. We can’t serve it without serving each other so a goal that includes and not excludes, that serves 'we’ and not 'me’, that inspires others and a goal that resonates with the 'higher energy frequency that created all that is’ are the only goals that are free from polarity (turning off and on) because they both fulfil and create simultaneously. The most important aspect of a universally aligned goal is to honour every moment in time of creation/improvement/innovation. It’s important to know what direction your going in but it doesn’t need to be compulsively revisited in the mind, when every step of the way is appreciated and honoured then the goal is continually fulfilling in itself. When the now is priority and past/future are rarely visited then life is a celebration, the concept of failing is no more and instead joy and enthusiasm become the predominant states of being independent of results or anything else external. One simply enjoys every moment of creation not the thought of the fruits of it so a goal is just a lovely addition to continuing to revel in life’s 'now’, it doesn’t make life we are life but it can add to it beautifully.

The three best things I learnt in 2016 was what true love is, how destructive preaching can be and how to cease judging myself and others. I don’t mean all these things are permanent, they can all come and go still but I often taste 'the nectar’ their virtuosity provide. The best thing I have learnt is that I am not 'me’ I am 'we’ and I see the angel in everyone when I see my own. For some good time now I have spoken nothing but sweetness of others and when I do see the 'faults’ operating in them I nearly always speak of them peacefully, this has been perhaps the greatest achievement in my life. It’s a conscious choice that liberates because it goes against the conformity grain of social acceptability, I no longer follow so many thoughts that many others follow. It’s insane that true love isn’t usually socially acceptable, an example could be sitting next to a homeless person and spending time with him or her, maybe even eating dinner with them, something I’d love to do actually. (I wrote about it a few weeks ago and I am still yet to give gifts to the homeless because I reconsidered my idea about giving them books, I don’t think this is loving now, anyway il talk about this in a separate post). But yea many people won’t exactly embrace an act of kindness such as this, 'it’s too much’, and they will be uncomfortable with the idea, some may even think what the hell are you doing haha. Following one another or rather people acting like sheep is only people wanting to be around others who think and subsequently act the same as they do. There is comfort to be found in finding people who think-alike because loneliness is lifted 'oh, I’m not as separate as I thought’ - until another debilitating thought comes up. Destructive thoughts are allowed to roam free because so many are possessed by their mind, they value it higher than their inner beauty because they don’t yet know how it feels. Once they experience it though they won’t want anything else, nothing will or will want to be valued higher. Destructive thoughts create destructive effects and in the physical realm the effects can’t alleviate until the cause is resolved. Rather than being possessed by mind one can be possessed by God (or possessed by love if you don’t connect with the word God). I spend more of my life free of being comforted by thoughts and burdened by them too, and the best thing about it is it’s a gift available to anyone. The overcoming the preaching bit has taken the most time to see-through. The definition of preaching is 'to publicly proclaim or teach (a religious message or belief) or to sincerely advocate (a belief or course of action).’ So the definition of preaching is rather beautiful and peaceful but the word has got a heavy connotation to it. That’s because most preaching isn’t so accepting, it could otherwise be known as forceful-preaching and I used to do it much more often, i bought up spirituality and the idea of it to my friends and family in conversation without them showing interest. If you have found yourself preaching and you find it hard to stop it’s certainly something you will do less of the more you become aware of the mechanism behind it. And the driving force is usually 'look what I know that you don’t yet, look how great I am’. Because I haven’t had a big ego for sometime now I have never lived so gracefully, because it operates in me less I don’t feel so much pain. I do still feel pain but it becomes more obvious how diminished it is when things happen that would usually really pain me don’t anymore. So instead when I feel any thing unsettling I go straight to the 'problem’ in me not the problem I perceive caused it outside of me, which never really does it’s always me causing my own suffering. We all create our own pain and the more we believe someone or something else did or does the more intense we feel it and the longer its vibrational frequency operates. Whenever I may meet someone my upmost priority is to be free of suggesting she finds her radiant inner beauty in any situation by trying to tell her how too. Instead I want to watch what’s not beautiful in her like I do in me, i want to let it all go. I want to always be playful and light with her which may seem impossible but it’s kind of fun to do the impossible as Walt Disney said or at least aim for it. Although I may know that she has not yet seen how powerful she is it takes great power to let her be as she is anyway, the more she is celebrated for who she is in the moment no matter how hateful or judgemental she may be being the more love flows through the cracks. Suggesting that there is euphoria to be experienced is lovely but not so lovely when you suggest how - which can only be by facing ones own negativity/problems/inner devil otherwise known as ego. The ego is on high alert to anything that may reduce and bring about its end so the 'thought’ of its destruction will make it stronger. This is why true love cannot be bestowed on another, it’s a delicate process becoming aware that one has an entity in them that is self destructive. And it’s even more delicate to realise the entity is so prominent it’s pretending to be who one thinks they already are nearly all the time. 'You have an entity in you that is inhabiting your life greatly and also your not conscious of it either, you don’t even know you think it’s you’ are words if uttered to another become just as insane as the ego itself. Expressed in this way makes the insanity more obvious, maybe it will help you too if you have ever found yourself trying to change another because you are absolute certain it’s for 'their own benefit’, maybe reading what I wrote is as clear to you too just how insane it can be (and negative) to say such elaborate words to try and help someone realise their own love, beauty, life essence. No matter how good and noble it may feel to want to try and help save someone it is incomparable to loving them just as they are. The secret to experiencing euphoria is to see the ego in them just like you do in you but let it happen, let it continue to operate in them and love them. Your love is likely to hurt him or her when they can’t yet reciprocate your trueness by them feeling bad/guilty but their opposition to true love is their ego and we are powerless to stopping this for them. But we can be exceptional by accepting them in their entirety and when we can’t we can see what in us in not accepting, not what they need to do differently.

[mrlnsfrt]

Rules of Engagement

You can read the story found in Genesis 29, I will take come creative freedoms as I retell the story below, please make sure to read the biblical account.

With God’s promises hidden in his heart (discussed here), Jacob continued his journey and came to the land of the people of the East. When he spotted a well he figured it would be a good place to stop, after all, it was at a well that Abraham’s servant met Rebekah (Genesis 24:10-11). Moses learned a similar lesson for he too met his wife at a well (Exodus 2:15-21). Sadly, Jacob never had a chance to meet Moses, but I’m sure he would be happy to know they shared a well experience.

When Jacob arrives, however, he finds only men at the well. A bit disappointed he had not met the love his life right away, he begins to chat with the men at the well and ask about Laban son of Nahor. The shepherds inform Jacob that they know Laban and that he is well and as a matter of fact, here comes his daughter Rachel with the sheep.

As Jacob looked in the direction those men pointed, time slowed down, the voice of the men faded into the background, Jacob became very aware of his heartbeats, it felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest! He could hear each heartbeat, and wondered if others could see his heart beating or hear it the loud sound it was making. His mouth felt dry and he forgot to blink. This was it! Just like the story his mother told him so many times about how she came to be his mother, Rachel, she would be his wife!

After what felt like a long time, Jacob snapped out of it and told the shepherds, “It’s time to water the sheep!”

To which they replied, “No, it isn’t! …and by the way, you just got here. That’s not how we do things here. See that stone over the mouth of the well? Well, we have to wait for everyone to gather together and for the stone to be rolled out, and then we water the sheep.”

“What?! How long will that take? Why can’t we just go there and remove the stone? C’mon guys…”

While Jacob was talking with those shepherds Rachel came with her father’s sheep. She was a shepherdess! How perfect! David was a shepherd (1 Samuel 16:11; 17:15, 20, 28, 34), Moses spent 40 years taking care of sheep (Exodus 3:1; Acts 7:29-30), and Jesus often used shepherd imagery in His teachings!

“This is a great sign if I ever saw one!“ Thought Jacob, or he would have thought if he only knew what we know.

Jacob couldn’t wait any longer. He had a young woman to impress and she was not going to be impressed if he just hung out with the shepherds. He needed to do something heroic, something manly, something impressive, lift something heavy, especially since he lacked Esau’s facial, body-hair (more details here). Yes, something heavy, like the stone over the mouth of the well! Yes! That’s what Jacob would do, Rachel would totally fall in love with him once she saw his stone rolling abilities!

Well, it turned out the stone was much heavier than Jacob had expected. Now he knew why all those shepherds had been sitting around waiting for help. But he could not back down now, he needed to impress Rachel! This was his moment and he could not pass it up, especially not after he began to try to roll the stone. Keep in mind that Jacob was his mother’s favorite son, Rebekah had drawn water from the well to give to Abraham’s camels (more details here), so Jacob would follow his mom’s example and water the flock of Laban. There is a bit of a reversal here. Part of it probably due to the fact that Abraham’s servant had arrived with camels and wealth (Genesis 24:53) and Jacob has, well, nothing, except God’s promise (Genesis 28:13-15, more details here). Jacob has nothing with which to impress Rachel or her family, except his hard work. So he begins to work hard and he rolls the stone off the mouth of the well and waters Laban’s sheep.

Afterwards, Jacob was sweaty, tired, and smelly. He was not sure what to do next. So, he figured his next step should be to kiss Rachel, obviously. He kisses her, and realizes he has no idea what he is doing. He feels guilty for not acquiring her consent, realizing the possible catastrophic outcome of his most recent move he lifts his voice and cries. (I’m not making this up, read Genesis 29:11)

Rachel just had a stranger walk up to her, roll the stone away from the mouth of the well all by himself, which was impressive, and water her father’s flock, which was nice. But the kiss was way too forward. But now he was crying? Rachel was completely confused. In between tears and sobs, Jacob tells Rachel he is her cousin, hoping it would make her feel better. But Rachel takes off and runs to her father.

Jacob sits there surrounded by sheep wondering on how many levels he had botched his first encounter with the love of his life.

And you thought you had an awkward first interaction with your crush...

Upon hearing what his youngest daughter told him Laban grabs his shotgun and runs out to meet Jacob. Okay, maybe he didn’t grab his shotgun, but the Bible does say that Laban ran to meet Jacob after hearing what had happened.

Then it came to pass, when Laban heard the report about Jacob his sister’s son, that he ran to meet him, Genesis 29:13a

Laban had decided to give Jacob a taste of his own medicine. “Do unto others” correct? So Laban decided to embrace and kiss Jacob (Genesis 29:13). Jacob was now at least as confused as Rachel, but he figured the worst had passed and things were now cool between him and Laban. Jacob was even wondering if he could start calling Laban Dad, but he had no idea what uncle Laban had in store for him.

Jacob was not yet aware of how greedy and deceitful uncle Laban was. No one had told Jacob how Laban had paid close attention to the gold and wealth Abraham’s servant had brought and given to Rebekah (Genesis 24:29-33)all those years ago. Jacob did not come with with camels and gold but he did show himself to be hard working, and Laban just happened to be in the market for some good free labor, emphasis on free. Laban makes it very clear that Jacob is family, and for a month Jacob stays with uncle Laban, working for free. After all, you don’t have to pay family members right? As uncle Laban told himself each night, “It’s not exploitation if you’re related.”

After a month had passed Laban was convinced he wanted Jacob to stay long term and it would be profitable to him to make some kind of arrangement with his hard working nephew.

Then Laban said to Jacob, “Because you are my relative, should you therefore serve me for nothing? Tell me, what should your wages be?” Genesis 29:15 NKJV

Uncle Laban approaches Jacob and says

“Jacob my boy, my nephew, we consider you one of the family, one of the household. You know I don’t pay my family members to work here, we are all in this together! Don’t you want to belong and be a member of our family? Or do you want to be treated like a hired servant?”

Jacob notices what his uncle was doing and that it would be offensive, given how the question was posed, to ask for payment, so Jacob suggests an arrangement. Jacob is willing to work for a wife. Since his uncle wants Jacob to work but does not want to pay him, Jacob also wants to get married but has no funds to pay for a dowry, or bride price (Exodus 22:17; Deuteronomy 22:29).

It is important, at this point, to announce that Laban had two daughters. The elder daughter was named Leah, which literally means “cow,” maybe that was a compliment back then. The younger daughter was called Rachel which literally means “ewe,” (unrelated side note: English is my second language and I have a hard time pronouncing “ewe” it always sounds more like “ew,” a word used to express disgust at something distasteful or repellent [such as a bad odor]). Rachel’s name seems appropriate since she is a shepherdess.

There is one more thing that should be noted regarding Leah Rachel and it is found in Genesis 29:17 (click on link for comparison of several English translations).

Leah had lovely eyes, but Rachel was shapely and beautiful. Genesis 29:17 Good News Translation.

We are not sure what the differences were between the two sisters, besides their age. One thing is clear Jacob loved Rachel and was willing to work 7 years for her, a generous offer. Laban agrees that it would be better for Jacob to marry his daughter than to another man and invites Jacob to stay.

So Jacob served seven years for Rachel, and they seemed only a few days to him because of the love he had for her. Genesis 29:20 NKJV

The last day of the seventh year Jacob said to Laban,

"Give me my wife, for my time of service is up. I want to have marital relations with her." Jacob (Genesis 29:21b NET Bible)

“Okay, okay,” replied Laban, “easy there eager beaver, and no need to be so direct, I know what married couples do.”

So Laban gathered together all the men of the place and made a huge feast! This was surprising since Laban had a rather greedy nature. You almost get the idea Laban needed a big even and lots of commotion in order to keep Jacob busy and distracted. When it got dark Laban took Leah and brought her to Jacob. Keep in mind that lighting at night was not the best in the ancient world, and that the bride would have worn a veil the entire duration of the ceremony. It must have been awkward for Leah to have Jacob call her Rachel all night. I also wonder what the wedding invitations would have said, perhaps “You are cordially invited to the wedding of Jacob and Laban’s Daughter.” It is unclear how willing a participant Leah was in all of this, but it is clear that Laban had planned it and Jacob fell for it. Laban even gave his maid Zilpah to his daughter Leah, uncle Laban is so generous and careful to follow the period customs.

In the morning, as the birds sang and the sun rays came in through the window, Jacob turned to kiss his wife, the love of his life, the woman for whom he had worked hard for seven long years, and behold, it was Leah!

Noooooooooooooooooo!

Talk about a traumatic experience for both Jacob and Leah.

Jacob marched out of his room and found Laban.

“What is this you have done?” (Genesis 3:13; 4:10, 12:18; 20:9; 26:10; Exodus 14:11; Jonah1:10) Jacob demanded! Was I not clear that I was serving you for Rachel? 7 years I worked for Rachel! Why have you deceived me?

Jacob had been deceived. It did not feel so good to be in the receiving end. Jacob the deceiver had met his match in his uncle. Jacob had deceived his brother and his father and now he was on the receiving end. Laban thought the whole thing had been funny, but he knew that it would not be appropriate to laugh right now. He was wondering how Jacob would react.

Laban, matter-of-factly explained to Jacob the customs of the land and how in their country he simply could not give the younger before the firstborn. Laban looked at Jacob, raised an eyebrow and added “you know how birth order works in our land right Jacob?” “Let’s do this,” Laban added, “fulfill her week and you will get me other daughter for another 7 long years of hard labor, outdoors, in the desert.”

Uncle Laban seemed so careful to follow the customs of the land, yet seemed so at ease in being dishonest and conveniently keeping such vital information from Jacob.

Sure enough a week later Jacob finally received Rachel as his wife and Laban gave Bilhah, his maid, to Rachel to be her maid.

Jacob loved Rachel more than Leah, and this is not good. But we will talk more about this on our next post.

In his hour of need, when he was alone and had nothing, the one person Jacob thought he could trust, the one man Jacob thought he could count on, his uncle, blood of his blood and bone of his bone, took advantage of him. Jacob was hurt by someone who should have been there to help him. Jacob learned that God was his helper and God would provide for him, and that the road would not be an easy one.

[hollyeyoung-blog]

I am not kind

It is the time of year you’ll be getting an influx of self-reflective personal essays and articles about the approaching end of the year and the beginning of a new one. I guess you can count this among the fold, but at the risk of being annoying I’m going to push my luck and ask that you consider me as being the black sheep of the group. So, if you please, bear with me while I air some of my self-depreciating thoughts and watch me attempt (with all the grace of a drunk Gough Whitlam at a Young Liberals meeting) try to articulate my genuine, yet masked in sarcasm, thankfulness and hope for the future. 

This week, I had every plan to write about being kind to yourself, but I ran into some trouble. Yes, even at Christmas I found this difficult, feel free to chalk it up to my atrocious year. The trouble I’ve run into hasn’t been a lack of thoughts or convictions on the subject, but rather an entire lack of confidence and practice in the execution of any such so-called self-kindness. 

In short, I am not kind to myself and you shouldn’t listen to me on the subject. 

It does feel as if every other day there is some advice piece or personal essay on self-care or being kind to yourself and they’re all very nice. I read them, I nod… I think yeah, that makes sense, I’m sure I do that, but in truth I don’t. In fact, I do the opposite. I won’t bore you with the specifics…yet, but I’ve had a bad year. truly. Friends talk to me about all my important learnings and how I’m going come out the other end a stronger and wiser person. I’m glad they believe this and I hope they’re right. 

So, the marriage didn’t work out, you get not one but two triple figure bills at the same time, things aren’t working out at work, you lose your appetite, your plans for the future fall through… these are all shit. there is no denying this and I am not even going to bother wasting your time or mine by trying to dress them up as lessons in disguise, because they’re not. they are all entirely unrelated things that happened. We can chose to learn from them, or we can continue making the same mistakes. this is something only time will be able to tell. *side note: time is on your side and friendship is a privilege. 

Also, Trump really did get sworn in as President of the United States of America back in March, we didn’t dream that, it wasn’t some new version of the Mandela effect (sadly). 

At the time of writing this (isn’t it terrible I had to stipulate that?) there have been EIGHT school shootings in the U.S.A.

Severe flooding lead to deaths running into the thousands in India, Bangladesh, Nepal, Sierra Leon, Sri Lanka, Zimbabwe, Peru and China. Landslides in Colombia, the Democratic Republic of the Congo as well as snow avalanches in Afghanistan lead to hundreds of deaths, and major earthquakes in Mexico also lead to further deaths running into the hundreds.

 Here are some more natural disaster for the month of December alone. It’s a collection of natural disasters as well the knock-on effects felt by those living in the social and economic constructs imposed upon them within the criminality of late capitalism (she types arrogantly on her MacBook air). One headline reads “Debts add to disaster for climate-hit nations”. lovely…. 

oh yeah… and one million people in Puerto Rico are STILL without power, you know… only three months after Hurricane Maria. 

Also, women all over the world had to repeatedly endure the infuriating lecture that “not all men” hurt women and that getting angry won’t help us. Well, complicity hasn’t protected us much at any stage in history either. But thanks for your input Matt Damon, now kindly shut the fuck up.

(image nicked from a Facebook feed. If it’s yours please speak up)

Naturally this is not an exhaustive list of the 2017 shit. There are four days left of 2017 and that isn’t enough time to cover it all. 

But as for you, I’m sure you had your own shit going on too. 

Yeah…. that bad thing/things that happened to you this year? yes. it really did happen. 

Here comes a good thing…. a great thing that happened to me this year, was I learned to ask for help. I know this sounds dumb, but it was a revelation. I was musing earlier today with a friend about how isolating it can be when things go bad. You find yourself in shame spirals, even over things that were not your fault. However, as soon as you start talking, as soon as you begin to open up and become just a little bit vulnerable this magical thing happens… people start wanting to be there for you, friends from long ago call out of the blue and come back into your life. You start seeing the beauty in small kindnesses. Even strangers jump out of bushes screaming “MEEEEE TOO!!!! LETS HAVE COFFEEE OKKKKKKKK????”… no? was that just me? ok, that was me. 

Back to the point. 

We internalise our problems and blame ourselves. Hey, it’s what we do. This constant pushing of blogs and personal essays flying the positivity flag over look one thing, it’s healthy to feel sad and uncomfortable, maybe not all the time… but we aren’t robots…yet. Or are we??? what did I miss??? THE BOTS.

It’s totally human to feel like a failure. It’s well rounded to wonder what the hell the point in all this is and if there is even a place for you in this world. how could you ever possibly know what makes you happy, what makes you feel alive if you never considered why you’re even here? I realise this sounds bleak, and I promise this is not a cry for help (but it would be ok if it was, and it’s definitely ok if you need help. Do you need help?).

All I’m trying to say here is that if you don’t ever question what you tolerate, how could you ever possibly know why you tolerate it or if you should? 

Why do we tolerate debt, jobs we hate and people we could do without? No, really, I’m asking. why? In the stark light on the truest drunkest honesty, I’ve yet to have a conversation with anyone who has been able to attempt this question without crying. 

My wonderful housemate gave me a book for Christmas (books are my love language). This particular book is called You Do You, I’ve only just started it so no reviews yet, but so far, it’s been a laugh out loud type of read and already it’s done one thing for me. That one thing? it has drummed into me that I am a-ok. I really am. 

It has been a heck of a year, on both micro and macro levels. When considering what everything looked like this time last year, I certainly do not recognise this world, or even myself. Maybe, for better or for worse, you feel the same way. 

I think it will be ok. You know how I know? Because the world kept spinning, and so far, we’ve survived 100% of everything that has happened on this little blue ball. Truly, we’re fucking killing it. 

also, I’ve been listening to this  a bit today. Have a safe new years kiddies!