#harkness test whom

[randomshyperson]

Little Freaks - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: A longtime crush can sometimes turn into more with a tough test and a demanding teacher. Or the one where Natasha insists that Wanda is a simp and you both are a clueless gay disaster. [Requested]

Warnings: Some implications at the end but nothing explicit, fluff and teasing, mutual pining, emo Wanda being grumpy and jealous.| Words: 2.925k

A/N-> Yep, the title is inspired by a Harry Style song title.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

Some things really were a gift from heaven.

After months of what her best friend referred to as 'hopeless gay pining' to tease her, Wanda finally had a chance to make her presence known.

Well, it would of course be incorrect for her to say that you didn't know who she was - In fact, you had been classmates at the same university for 3 years, the first contact happened in the first year not by an academic coincidence, but personal since your sister was Kate Bishop who by the occurrence of fate, started a relationship with Yelena Belova that happened to be the younger sister of Wanda's best friend. Although you all attended NYU, with the addition of many friends in common, you and Wanda were not exactly close. Different courses, different schedules. The vast majority of your meetings took place in the presence of other friends, mostly for parties and movie nights or study in the dorms. It was only a few months ago when Bucky Barnes's motorcycle - who would cordially offer you a ride to work since the university started as you both worked in the same place - broke down and you ended up bumping into Wanda on the bus heading to the university. Your gentle interruption to the loud music coming out of her headphones as you touched Wanda's shoulder to greet her, made it possible for a total of twenty minutes of talking to each other alone for what seemed like the first time and resulted in Wanda having a ridiculously intense crush on you afterward.

Of course, Natasha tormented her endlessly when she let slip about her own feelings, the redhead even going so far as to offer to be some form of cupid - which Wanda immediately denied, thinking she couldn't live on the childish humiliation of having her feelings discovered. It was foolish of course, but she couldn't avoid insecurities about matters like this, especially for someone with whom she shared a group of friends. If rejected, everything would be awkward between her, you, and your friends, and she wouldn't want to cause a difficult situation. 

Still, since the feelings started, she couldn't help but notice your presence around campus, and between exchanges of polite greetings and shy smiles in the few shared classes, Wanda fell harder every passing day.

She finally came to the acceptance that she would have to act on it and that at least a rejection would allow her to move on. The problem was finding the opportunity to do so, mainly because the late acceptance came during a testing period, and with everyone so busy with studies, she feared she would miss the opportunity before the winter vacation.

Her luck changed in one of her favorite classes - Ms. Harkness was a very demanding teacher and getting perfect grades with her was a personal victory for Wanda. 

When that afternoon period started and you were late enough that the only vacant seat was on the brunette's side, Wanda thought it was a gift from heaven.

"Sorry, Miss Harkness. My shift ended later." You justified as you walk into the crowded classroom. "May I come in...?"

"Of course, honey, we haven't started yet. You got lucky." Agatha offered you a wink, dismissing the apologies with a smile and moving to pick up the printed papers on her own desk.

You moved quickly to the back of the room, smiling shyly and a bit out of breath - perhaps from the race there -until you sat down in the seat next to her, and Wanda thinks she did a good job of keeping her expression indecipherable despite the racing heart in her chest.

“Hey, Wands.” It seemed that the nickname escaped you naturally, and Wanda was thankful that you were distracted with taking your things out of your backpack to notice the color her cheeks achieved with a simple greeting. 

Natasha is right, what a hopeless homo she was.

Her hoarse reply was drowned out by the beginning of the explanation about the test, and Wanda had to force herself to ignore the hyper-conscience of your presence beside her to focus on the teacher's words.

"[...] our final assessment will focus on the readings of the semester, by now I expect you all to have finished the mandatory books from the beginning of the year." Agatha commented, distributing to each row a stack of papers. Most of the room seemed alright with it, but you grunted low. Wanda risked a corner-of-eye glance. "I will allow doubles if you keep the volume down." Agatha warned last with a nod and the mood improved considerably.

With papers in hand, Wanda bit her lip anxiously. You were completely crestfallen beside her, and she risked another corner glance before feeling her heart leap when you looked at her, a defeated laugh escaping you.

"I'm screwed, Wands. I was going to read over the vacations, but because of work, I didn't even get halfway through the books. Can you believe it?" You blurted out briefly, shifting your gaze back to the paper in your hands. 

Wanda blinked, not knowing what to say at first, too excited about a potential conversation, before stealing another glance at the paper and realizing she had the perfect opportunity to impress you. 

First, she checked to see if Ms. Harkness was already in her typical bubble of indifference to cheating - a book of erotic romance in hand that she brazenly read during exam periods and a mug of coffee - then Wanda leaned her hand over the paper, switching them between you and ignoring your confused look.

"What are you...?" But your question was shushed, and when you noticed Wanda choosing the alternatives, you leaned in just enough to disconcert her for a moment. "That's nice of you, but you don't have to-"

"I'm trying to answer my test, miss." She interrupted you with a falsely serious tone, a smile threatening to break on her lips. You stared at her but had to turn away at the look of curiosity Agatha cast in your direction, deciding to take Wanda's hint and pretend you were reading the paper in front of you.

Wanda decided that you were somewhere between impressed and grateful when the papers were exchanged again a little less than 10 minutes later, and she merely offered you a quick smile.

The class began to empty out and you sighed, starting to gather your own materials since your paper was finished. Wanda didn't have time to let the insecurities go to her own head, as in the motion of getting up, you leaned gently toward her.

"I'll make it up to you, Maximoff. Just tell me how." You whispered before walking away completely, and even after she went to hand over her own article, Wanda was still shaking.

Keeping it together, she left the class in search of Natasha, needing to share the occurrence with her friend for reassurance that she was not delusional.

Natasha, as expected, did not miss the opportunity to torment her as she listened: A hearty laugh escaped her when she heard the way the event was described.

Wanda crossed her arms. "Stop it." She demanded to the laughing other, waiting for Nat to wipe away the tears of laughter.

"For the love of god, you are total simp." Mocked the redhead, to which Wanda huffed in irritation. "I'm kind of jealous of Y/N now, Maria never performed my exams in my place."

Grunting in embarrassment, Wanda turned her body in the opposite direction in the gym. P.E. wasn't her favorite class, but it was one of the few mandatory ones she shared with Natasha so it served to gossip at least. 

And her friend, who was wearing a sports uniform like her, was still having an easy laugh about the whole story.

"Hey, don't get all grumpy. Even though you're a disaster with no game at all, it's cute to see someone like you with all the puppy dog eyes." And Nat was specifically talking about the mixed look between emo and skater girl that Wanda carried as her signature style, which made the smaller girl squeeze her eyes at the thought.

"I don't do puppy dog eyes for anyone." She retorted between teeth. She turned her attention back to the sports court, where some of the class evaluations had already begun. Some of her classmates were playing a friendly basketball match, with coach Okoye taking notes on performances in the corner of the gym. And fate played with her once again when you went through one of the side doors, your eyes circling the place for a moment until you found Okoye, who interrupted the game when you reached her.

You and the trainer chatted briefly about something - Wanda couldn't deny that she was staring, nor did she care for the teasing smile Natasha gave you about her expression. 

The next moment you walked clumsily into the game, greeting the people around you with polite smiles.

Okoye stepped forward. "Five baskets, Miss Bishop. And you get your A." Announced the coach, resulting in a chorus of excitement from the rest of the class and a shy chuckle from her.

Some of the boys passed the basketball to you and with a sigh of preparation, you moved into the shooting position. By now the whole class had stopped to watch, and at least that was an excuse for Wanda's watchful eye.

You hit three in a row, and Wanda had to bite her tongue to keep the sighs down with every bit of skin exposed by the leaping motion to shoot the basket.

Natasha was almost bursting into laughter again. 

Missing the fourth by a hair's breadth, the small audience reacted with a chorus and the noise was enough for Wanda to wake up from her trance, her cheeks burning.

You got your A shortly after and were surrounded by the improvised team, receiving some clapping and praise. Bucky was in the crowd and made a comment about inviting you to join the team the following year officially, his hand on your shoulder as you laughed half breathless and red-faced, from the activity of course.

"They're way too close, don't you think?" Wanda commented bitterly to Natasha beside her, her chest burning every second longer that Bucky's hand remained on your shoulder. Natasha raised her eyes to the scene trying to understand what it was all about. She laughed shortly when she did.

"You know Bucky is not really into...?" She began but Wanda didn't absorb her words, simply standing up next and walking away. "Hey, don't do something stupid!" Natasha warned as she saw the direction her friend was going.

Your relaxed posture broke completely when Wanda appeared in your field of vision, and her determined look made you swallow dry.

"Hey, Wands, what's up?" You tried to sound casual, definitely not used to the intense gaze in your direction. 

Before Wanda could answer, Bucky entered the conversation, still touching you for some reason.

"Hey, Maximoff, did you see what Y/N just did? I was just saying how incredible it would be to have her on the team next semester! But the geek here thinks it has nothing to do with sports, how about helping me convince her?" He was so friendly that Wanda almost felt bad that she wanted to strangle him. Almost. He slung an arm around your shoulders, and she clenched her wrists.

"Actually I think it's quite important to respect her choice." Wanda returned in a coolness sufficient for Bucky to stare at her in shock. "And personal space." She added, her gaze on his arm around her. 

Bucky chuckled uneasily. "Of course, I was only joking..." He muttered embarrassedly, moving away. You frowned in confusion at the whole scene, but Wanda cast another near-deadly glance at the boy next to you.

"Very funny indeed. Will you excuse us so I can talk to her in private?" She practically demands, a deadly stare in the boy's direction, who swallows dryly in fear and simply waves goodbye, leaving you two alone. 

You chuckle cluelessly as you stare back at her. "Did you two have a fight or something?" 

Wanda narrows her eyes at you. "Does it matter to you? Do you like him or whatever?"

Though the aggressiveness surprises you, you smirk, raising an eyebrow at her. "Actually I do." You retort, studying every micro-expression of the deadly look on Wanda's face and reveling in it. "I've known Bucky since elementary school."

Wanda lifts her chin, crossing her arms. "You know what I mean."

Imitating her posture, your expression is one of teasing while hers is one of pure irritation. "Wow, do I? I'm not sure. You wanted to know if I'm friends with Bucky, right?" You challenge, cracking a smile as Wanda huffs in irritation and looks away. Having a little pity finally, you add, "I know what you mean. But my question is... why do you care?" 

You sounded more vulnerable than you originally planned, but it was a good thing because it affected Wanda. She looked down at the floor, taking a deep breath before uncrossing her arms and risking a look at you again, something she couldn't maintain for long once she started talking.

"I was just thinking... we have fun together and it would be nice, I don't know if we did that more often.... hang out, I mean." Natasha was right. She was a disaster. Swallowing dry again, Wanda tried to sound firmer. "I would like to go out with you. Just the two of us, if you like the idea. If not, it could be as a way of thanking me for the test, as friends. I...could live with the pain of rejection, I guess."

You break into a shy laugh with the last sentence, nodding slightly. Wanda smiles, equally coy, and tries to study your face the answer. She doesn't need to, because you move close enough for her to notice the difference in the shades of your iris color.

"I would love to go out with you, Wanda. But are you sure you want to throw your thanks away like that? I'll do whatever you want to pay you back..." Your tone ends low and suggestive, and Wanda holds her breath, blushing heavily at the line her thoughts go.

"Anything?" She asks in a husky voice, and you hum back, noses brushing together. 

Wanda even closes her eyes, expecting the impact that never comes. Instead, the sound of a whistle makes you both jump.

All this time, she has forgotten that she was in the middle of the sports court, and you walking away with an embarrassed laugh and waving in apology to Coach who has restarted the tests makes her blush even more than before.

She has no resistance to your hand entwining itself in hers to pull her off the court, to the benches on the opposite side.

"I have to go now, sorry. Will you text me?"

Wanda pouts. Damn, if Pietro could see her now, he would mock this for the rest of the century. You smile, your hands coming up to squeeze her cheeks.

"Sorry, cutie. They changed my shift because we're short-staffed, that's why I asked the coach to take the PE exam so promptly." You clarify, and Wanda is pleased by the color your cheeks acquire when she slips her arms around your waist.

"It's all right, I understand." She assures you with a smile. "Would it be okay if I picked you up from work today? We could hang out after...?"

You bite back a smile, eyes glittering with mischief. "Actually, Bucky usually drives me home..."

Wanda raises an eyebrow and you break into a laugh. She snorts, turning her face away. "I could drive you to work."

"Sounds romantic." You mutter, and Wanda bites the inside of her cheek.

"And for school, too."

"And we're not even dating, look at that." You tease, and she giggles shyly, swallowing dryly at your hands moving across her shoulders.

"We can change that." She risks, and despite the color of your cheeks, you move one of your hands to touch the tip of her nose in a playful gesture.

"Take me on a date first. If you do well, maybe I'll think about it." You retort, and she rolls her eyes in amusement. She's about to complain that you're having too much fun with her awkwardness when you simply break the distance and kiss her on the mouth.

Wanda gasps, squeezing your waist and reciprocating in the next second. But just as she's going to deepen the best feeling she's ever felt, you gently push her by the shoulders.

"Easy there, tiger. We're in school." You taunt, giggling shyly and as breathless as she is. 

Wanda thinks her brain has melted: All she can do is stare at you with a stupid grin and nod silly at everything you're saying. 

"I really have to go now. Although I doubt I'll be able to concentrate on work after this." You confess in a casual tone and Wanda bites her lips, resisting the urge to kiss you again as she watches you pull away. With a wink, you turn your back on her and leave the gym.

When Wanda sits back down next to Natasha, the redhead laughs low beside her.

"No puppy dog eyes my ass." She mutters wryly, falling into laughter when Wanda slaps her on the back of the head.

[deathlessathanasia]

„Yet, to refrain from begetting powerful children with Hera is not enough to stabilize the theogony. The pattern of the father being overthrown by the son cannot be resisted just by Zeus’ self-control. It needs to be transformed. To understand the nature of this transformation, we should note that in Hesiod’s Theogony there was from the beginning a substantial difference between the part played by males and by females. The male god is a ruler who tries to safeguard his position, only to be eventually overthrown by his son. The goddesses collaborate with these sons against the oppression of their husbands, and they survive the coup themselves: Gaia, and to a lesser extent Rheia, were still worshipped in classical times. Hera is another goddess in this female line, and is thus an heir to the ambivalent female energy of Gaia. Her situation, though, is more complicated in that Zeus takes care not to beget with her a son of real importance. Hera reacts by regressing to the most ancient stage, in which Gaia started to produce by parthenogenesis: if Zeus does not give her a mighty son, she can give birth to one on her own. She tries this with Hephaistos, but the god is lame and even Hera herself is ashamed of him. Hera is not deterred and tries one more time: according to the Homeric Hymn to Apollo (311–352) she engenders an offspring no less formidable than the monstrous Typhon, the most dangerous enemy Zeus ever had. It is only when Zeus defeats even this terrible monster that Hera finally ceases in her attempts to imitate Gaia directly.

Hera’s engendering Typhon is no doubt the most striking instance of her troublesome marriage with Zeus, but on closer look it appears as the key that allows us to understand the nature of Hera’s troublemaking. First of all, the Hymn makes it clear that Hera sees her action as linked to that of Gaia (who in HES. Th. 821 was Typhon’s mother herself): it is she to whom Hera prays (together with Uranos and the Titans), and who answers the prayer (334–342). But as Pirenne-Delforge and Pironti point out, there is also a significant difference: while both Gaia and Rheia are “truly maternal goddesses” who turn against their husbands to protect their children, Hera begets Typhon “in order to defend her proper status, to take revenge for being harmed in her rank and her prerogatives”. It is in response to Zeus’ begetting of Athena by which she feels dishonoured that Hera acts as she does (Hom. hym. Ap. 311–330). In other words, Hera’s aim is not really to overthrow Zeus but solely to ensure that within the order he has established her place is fully respected. … That Hera does not really want to put an end to Zeus’ rule comes out clearly from a version of the story that we find in a scholium on Il. II,783, in which Hera helps to give birth to Typhon on account of “being angry” with Zeus, but as soon as the monster is born, “she makes it up with Zeus, tells him everything, and he kills Typhon by his thunderbolt”.

While Hera does hark back to the ancient female powers, therefore, she transforms the direction of this chaotic feminine energy: instead of striving to overthrow Zeus, she uses it to test his strength. As Pirenne-Delforge and Pironti put it: If the intergenerational conflict in which the mother unites with the son against the father … vanishes from the divine family with the disappearance of the figure of the heir, the conflict as such is not driven out altogether, but it transforms. More precisely, it changes its strategy and turns from the verticality of the lineage into the horizontality of the couple. In effect, the strife “stabilizes” into a permanent dynamic between the two sovereign spouses, a dynamic that is disruptive but necessary.”

- Radek Chlup, Hera and the Dangers of Marriage

[csmingy]

Hi, I was notified about some asks about me on this blog concerning feral porn, and I wanted just to send in a post to clear things up since I do not want to be associated with anything feral-related. The art for my dragon!AU was never in any way or form intended to be feral art. The pieces for both AUs were made with the "Harkness test" in mind, They're both presented as sentient human beings that can shapeshift (same for my werewolf AU).

I was unaware that some of my art was perceived as feral, and I am/was extremely uncomfortable when I found out it was perceived that way, I removed those pieces a while ago and believe they are no longer on my blog. I cannot control if they have been reuploaded on third-party sites, but to my knowledge, I have removed all of them and those i have access to.

I apologize for any discomfort my past work may have caused, and I want to clarify that creating art that could be deemed feral was NEVER my intention.

On the other point of contention, I also have in the past talked about the defending of the writer, but I can only share my part and reasoning of the story since another closed species owner was involved,whom I am no longer in contact with and wish to not be associated with, hope you can understand.

Unlike how other people might have reacted I very much needed a second to come to terms with the fact that somebody i deemed a good friend created some fucked up content I wasn't aware of. it's admittedly very hard for me to deal with situations like this since I put a lot of time and effort into my online friendships and sadly I get VERY over-attached and care too excessively for people I deem friends and or users in my server,, EVEN if they don't have my best interest in mind, so finding out about stuff like this doesn't equal turning off a simple light switch for me, this is very much one of my flaws. After I had time to process and had time to talk with my mods and make them aware of the situation, the person in question has been blocked, banned and removed.

I am not seeking approval or forgiveness from others; you are welcome to make your judgment and form your own opinion of me. I strongly disapprove of feral art and regret making others uncomfortable with my past work, this was and has never my intention.

thank you for this, it was very well worded. we were unaware of any old apologies or conversations about this so we are glad to hear directly from you

following this post we will no longer be answering asks about this subject! we do believe that people can change, so out of respect for that and this apology, we hope y’all understand !🍋

[raccoonfallsharder]

Hi! I'm the crush-since-2014 and hickey/straw anon. In all seriousness, I've realised I'm incredibly embarrassed about crushing on Rocket (sexually as well) because of the whole raccoon thing. I had crushes on a couple of anthropomorphic characters when I was younger, but the fact that Rocket was originally an *actual* raccoon rather than an anthro/extraterrestrial is where it feels I'm crossing some line. I'm worried people will laugh at me, or find me weird or disgusting. Just wondering how you "reconciled" with his being a raccoon like you mentioned? Is there any way I can feel less weird about this?

Anyway! You're an incredibly talented writer and I hope you're having a good day 😊

First of all, you are very very sweet and I want you to know that.

I don’t have all the answers and what works for me may not work for you, but I’m happy to share what I can.

I’m a pretty private person irl, and I know my audiences. If a person isn’t someone with whom I would normally share my sexual fantasies, then I’m definitely not telling them “I wanna fuck that raccoon.” It’s none of their business and it doesn’t matter. (Of course a lot of people know I find Rocket’s story to be one of the most emotionally resonant, compelling, and well-crafted narratives in recent pop-culture memory, and even more know gotg3 is my fave movie of the year and maybe ever.) I think this is one of the great things about online communities tbh.

As far as my own internal monologue and coming to terms with it for myself, I found the Harkness Test (based on Captain Jack Harkness from Doctor Who, a prestigious alien-fucker) was really helpful for me.

It also helps me personally to acknowledge that I’m attracted to Rocket, not to the average raccoon on my neighbor’s garage roof. Philosophers have spent actual millennia trying to figure out it means to be a person, and by all accounts except biological, Rocket seems to be a person. Even biological identity may be questionable at this point since he’s been a victim of alteration right down to his DNA.

Maybe this is a lot of mental gymnastics other people don’t have to do when crushing on imaginary sentient gunsmiths with tails. But I think part of the battle is figuring out why it squicks you out, and if those things are really important in terms of fictional characters. (Sometimes they are, and sometimes they aren’t. If supporting a certain kind of smut perpetuates harm against real-world people, for instance, I’d avoid it. And in general I’d say if it involves real living creatures and it squicks you out, it’s probably better to avoid than justify.)

I hope that helps but more than anything, please know you’re not alone. Look at all these amazing fuckin creators out here, writing and drawing and dreaming up amazing fantasies (some smutty! some fluffy! some not!). They get the attraction! And a lot of people have been on similar journeys of reconciliation too. You are in good company. ♡♡♡

[princess-of-the-corner]

Wasn't Fire Emblem Awakening the first game in the series to implement the whole "here's a centuries old romance option who looks and acts like a young child" thing?

Basically. Other games had characters like that, such as Tiki, but they specifically were NOT romance options for any character. Whilst some creepy Japanese fans like to ship Tiki with Marth, their relationship was always purely platonic.

Awakening's Nowi, whom is basically a sexualized version of Kid Tiki, had to be written a ton in the western localization.

In the Japanese version, Nowi actually is a child by her race's standards. Adult members of Nowi's dragon race look and act like adults, with elderly dragons even having age related health problems.

The western localization rewrote Nowi's personality to make it so her childish behavior was just a facade to stay cheerful, whilst in the Japanese version, that was actually how she acted as 1000 year old dragons aren't emotionally, mentally or physically mature yet.

Also Nowi's Japanese name, NoNo, summarizes my thoughts on her as a character, No+No!

Oh yeah no like.

It's one thing to be like 'this character /looks/ like a child but is actually a fully grown adult', it's an entirely different thing for 'this character is 1000 which means they're 18+ but they're still a child'.

The Harkness Test explicitly includes being of a sexually mature age /for the species/, not just 'over 18'!!

[shewholovedthem]

Find the treasure within yourself.

Ind. Selective low activity rp blog for a very headcanon based canondivergent Terapagos.

Please do not impose your own headcanons on my Terapagos.

Muse | Mun | Lore

Exploration of: Alien psychology, trying to understand that which is fundamentally different from you, being an endling, believing in the best within other lifeforms, trauma of an alien mind, connection across species and dimensions.

Read the rules underneath, please. Thank you.

My name is Nayen. You might know me from @exnusquam or @prmafrost, as well as a number of others.

This blog is very heavily headcanon based and I ask that you respect that. If your muse operates under their own lore in relation to Terapagos, that's fine, but don't oocly assume that my Terapagos will adhere to YOUR lore. - If you do that I'm not inclined to continue interacting with you.

Terapagos will, if ever even in the first place, only be shipped with other legendary pokemon, or with grown adults, should I ever decide to go the same Greek God allegory route I do for my legendary pokemon usually. This is however not that likely, as shipping is not what this muse is for.

Terapagos is inherently a very overpowered muse, which leads to the fact that battling it will be very unbalanced. Within her lore, she is almost as powerful as Arceus, even if she doesn't use that power actively, let alone has full control over it. - For this reason, you should be absolutely certain that you want your muse to battle her, and if you do, you will be expected to plot it with me oocly and to accept that I will not artificially nerf Terapagos just so your muse can come out of it unscathed. - Terapagos is not naturally evil. She is however very alien in nature and psychology, and while most of the time with good intention, the road to hell is paved with those, and she will inevitably end up hurting someone.

I will not interact with anyone under the age of 18 for reasons of my own comfort.

Your muse cannot inherently know all there is to know about my rendition of Terapagos. They are, however, free to make assumptions based on their own canon for Terapagos. It just will likely be at least mostly incorrect.

I'm fully OC and crossover friendly! I am however still selective with whom I follow and interact with. Please respect that. I have my biases, we all do. - I'm only going to be interacting with people who I follow back. - Do not hound me for replies.

I do not touch anti/proship discourse. I'm here to write a hobby, and not to fight. Roleplay is my escapism. - That said, if you have proof someone is engaging in outright ooc abusive and illegal behaviour, do let me know and show me the evidence, so I can make my own judgement. - If you believe I'm an abuser or anything like that because I simply do not want to touch this sort of shitty discussion, I dearly invite you to please go outside and touch grass, and also would like to inform you that you're calling a survivor these sort of names. Fuck off. I shouldn't have to wear my trauma like a fucking ID badge just to not get harassed, and yet, here we are.

Generally, ooc drama is not tolerated here. - Rule 7 does not go hand in hand with Rule 8. Ooc drama is not the same as straight up abuse, illegal shit or anti/proship discourse.

On this blog we endorse the Harkness test, but not with any pokemon that aren't legendary pokemon (i.e. literally gods with ability to communicate and consent). - Pokephil/i/a blogs and pokemon IRL will be hardblocked.

About censorship: while I do believe that all art has some level of merit to it for different reasons, I also do believe that certain art has lesser value than others for subjective reasons. While I myself do not engage in certain types of fiction, that doesn't mean I believe that those type of fiction deserve to be banned outright. That's called bookbanning, and the n/a/zis did similar shit to what they called "degenerate art". - This is an online space in which we curate our own social circles. Be sure to curate your own according to your needs, and don't police how others curate theirs so long as they aren't literally hurting anyone else.

Thank you for reading. I know it's a lot, but I've grown up on tumblr rp and made a lot of exeriences and trauma here that I want to avoid experiencing again here.

I know inevitably I cannot please everybody. If you don't want me to follow you, please HARDBLOCK ME. Softblocking will not work as my bad memory issues will make me believe I either haven't followed yet or that tumblr made a mistake and unfollowed me unintentionally.

I promise I'm much friendlier than I sound like here. I just have anxiety and trauma.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask!

CREDIT: Header art by agentc0rn on tumblr.

[teabooksandsweets]

A City of Bells

Chapter VIII — Part II

Yet when next morning he set out to spend Christmas Day at the Close he had the manuscript under his arm. He had promised Henrietta to read it to them and he would keep his word, even though his additions to Ferranti’s original work had, in his opinion, ruined the whole thing … One could not disappoint Henrietta and see the light in her eyes flicker and die out … For Henrietta was very excited about this story. She had told the others that Uncle Jocelyn was finishing a fairy story begun by a friend of his and that he would read it to them on Christmas Day. He should do so, she had ordained, between tea and bed, and Mrs. Jameson and Felicity, who was to arrive at Torminster on Christmas Eve, were to come to tea and listen too.

It had seemed to Jocelyn in anticipation that the hours until tea, Felicity and the story would be a howling wilderness of impatience, but it proved not to be so, for on this first Christmas Day since his own childhood that he had spent with children he found himself recapturing a glamour that he thought had vanished completely.

For years Christmas Day had been for him a day when one ate too much so as not to disappoint cook, stifled a great many yawns and made a lot of silly jokes to hide an inner sadness that was both a lament for romance and belief that had faded and a vague sense of unsatisfied expectation.

belief and satisfaction were vicariously his again. He stood in the Cathedral during morning service with the children one on each side of him and sang, “Hark, the herald angels sing,” aware that Henrietta, whose eyes were beaming with joy and whose muff was swinging from side to side like a pendulum as her figure swayed in time to the music, was seeing a starlit sky full of wings and a manger with a baby in it, and seeing them with her. Hugh Anthony on his other side was singing the tune a semitone flat with the full force of his lungs, but he looked happily distrait and his left hand was plunged deep in his pocket; it clutched, Jocelyn knew, the knife with two blades, a corkscrew and a thing for getting stones out of one’s horse’s hoofs (if one happened to have a horse that got into this predicament) that had been in his stocking … Jocelyn seemed to feel the delightful outside roughness of the knife against the fingers of his own left hand and knew the sensation of satisfaction that it brought.

Beyond Henrietta was Grandmother. She was sitting down with her eyes shut because she was tired with the Christmas preparations, but her mind was thankfully fixed upon the fact of God made man. She was too practical, of necessity too concerned with the details of daily living, to be romantic in her religion like Henrietta, or quixotic like Grandfather, but her faith was the strength of her strong-minded life.

As she sat there she was in that state of detachment and tranquil concentration that brings one mind very near to another, and Jocelyn could distinctly feel her sober certainty reaching him through Henrietta’s stars and wings, as though what she and her like believed was the thread strung through the lovely bead of things that Henrietta and her like imagined, giving them form and value.

During the Dean’s sermon Jocelyn’s thoughts wandered, for the Dean’s remarks never brought conviction to sceptical minds … Yet to-day he was almost persuaded by the silence of others, Grandfather, Grandmother, Henrietta and the small, thin Bishop who sat opposite him on his throne. It struck him as he meditated that if these four, whom he held to be his superiors, were believers, then their belief was more likely to be true than his own unbelief. The Bishop, a distinguished scholar with a mind far more able to test and probe than his, Grandfather with his artist’s perceptiveness, Grandmother with her everyday common sense and Henrietta, sensitive and romantic, playing so happily with the toys of religion and finding reality through them, had arrived through their different avenues of approach at the same place and who was he, in the face of their evidence, to say that the place did not exist?

[docgold13]

365 Marvel Comics Paper Cut-Out SuperHeroes - One Hero, Every Day, All Year…

March 29th - Tigra

Greer Grant had been an adventurous young woman who married quite young yet was sadly widowed when her police officer husband was killed in the line of duty.  In order to support herself, Greer took a position as a laboratory assistant to an experimental biology researcher named  Dr. Joanne Tumolo.  Funded by a health-obsessed tycoon, Tumolo was working on a means of artificially augmenting physical attributes.  

Greer ended up a test subject for the process and was bestowed substantially enhanced speed, strength and dexterity as well as highly amplified senses.  Wanting to utilize the successful results for nefarious purposes, the project’s benefactor planted a bomb that killed Tumolo.  Greer discovered what had happened and decided to use her newfound abilities to bring the villain to justice.  She donned a cat-themed costume and, calling herself ‘The Cat,' was ultimately successful in taking down the murderers.  

Greer chise to continue on as a costumed hero and had a number of adventures, one of which saw her teaming up with the Amazing Spider-Man.  Greer would later discover that Dr. Tumolo had not perished in the explosion but had actually managed to survive.  Furthermore, Tumolo was secretly a member of ancient race of beings known as The Cat People.  These were cat/human hybrids who were created by magic some time in the middle ages and had continued on in isolation.  

Tumolo sought out Greer after she had been mortally wounded battling a cell of Hydra agents.  To save her life, Tumolo and the Cat People mystically transformed Greer into the legendary half-human, half-cat warrior they called the ‘Tigra.’  Greer was imbued with even greater physical and sensory abilities and was transformed into a cat/human hybrid, with orange fur, sharpened claws and a tail.  Taking on the mantle of Tigra, Greer helped the Cat People defeat the Hydra agents.  

Greer would have further adventures as Tigra, ultimately joining The Avengers for a brief period of time before relocating to San Fransisco where she had adventures alongside Jessica Drew.  Tigra was later recruited to serve as a member of the West Coast iteration of The Avengers.  

During her time with The West Coast Avengers, Tigra began experiencing increasing difficulties controlling the more primal, animalistic nature of her hybrid form.   This ultimately resulted in her devolving into a four legged cat-like creature.  She was eventually cured thanks to the help of the sorceress, Agatha Harkness.

Later, Tigra joined Iron Man pro-registration forces during the superhero Civil War.  She also became an instructor for the Avengers Initiative Program at Camp Hammond, taking special interest in her student Reptil.  

Around this time, Tigra entered into a romantic relationship with Hank Pym, unaware that he had recently been replaced with a Super Skrull imposter.  Following the Secret Invasion event, Tigra discovered she was pregnant and she was quite frightened over the potential ramifications of her baby being half-Skrull.  As it turned out, the Skrull imposter had duplicated Hank Pym on a completely genetic level and, as such, Tigra’s son was born without any traces of Skrull DNA.  The child, whom Tigra named William, did however possess the properties of the Cat People and, like his mother, is a half human/half cat hybrid.   The circumstances of the child’s conception notwithstanding, the real Hank Pym was happy to be a part of his genetic son’s life and offered to support Greer and the baby in any way she liked.  

Following Hank Pym's apparent death, Tigra introduced William to Hank’s daughter, Nadia Pym, who was overjoyed to meet her half brother.  Both Tigra and William have since participated in the adventures Nadia has had as the Unstoppable Wasp.  

The heroine first appeared in the pages of The Cat #1 (1972).  

[local-angst-dispenser]

Bound By An Oath

The day the Primordial Gods were bound to their duties.

This is set LONG before any current events. I just wanted to give some insights on how the world of Mej works!

Only three of the Pantheon are mentioned because they're the only ones I'll ever actually use!

"Ne'r forget thy oath. Thy oath is thy life. Thy oath is thy blood. Thy oath is thy intent."

The Primordial Pantheon stood in front of the imposing figure. All of their features were hidden behind a flowing cloak.

"Sanitive, third Goddess of Negativity, thou shall be the chaos of this orb. Thou shall cause strife, spleen, and suffering."

The figure reached out and touched Sanitive's cheek gently. A wash of immense power flooded the young goddess's body. She groaned in pain but stayed standing. She would not look weak.

"Vortex, God of Judgement, thou shall be the judge of this orb. Thou shall test those whom would to rise above and see would they are worthy."

The figure walked up to Vortex and touched his cheek, just as they had with Sanitive's. His body tensed as the flood of power came, but he stayed standing, too. He could not look weak.

"Star, God of Morality, thou shall test the morals of this orb. Thou shall see and determine who good and who evil, whom deserves punishment and whom doth not."

The figure touched Star's cheek next and caressed it for a moment. The god inhaled sharply and his knees buckled for just a moment. The power flooding his body was immense.

As the cloaked figure continued, Sanitive, Vortex, and Star took notice of how they were given the most important duties, while others had not been. The trio looked at each other, confused, before standing back to attention once the imposing figure returned.

"From this day forward, Sanitive, Vortex, and Star are thy leaders. They shall command thou. They shall guide thou. They shall hast top priority 'i deciding the fate of mej. They are thy elders. Thou shall hark to 'em."

Said trio stiffened as they looked at the members of the Primordial Pantheon. They had no time to voice any complaint, as the cloaked figure imposed over them again.

"Till the end of time, thou shall be bound by thy oath. Thy oath is thy life. Thy oath is thy blood. Thy oath is the life-force allowing thou to live. To exist. Ne'r forget this."

It was quiet before the cloaked figure spoke again.

"And ne'r fail me."

The response was quick, loyal, and obedient by all. The Primordial Pantheon kneeled before the cloaked figure, closing their eyes and bowing their heads.

"We will never fail you, Shining One."

[interpretingtexas]

The Women’s Airforce Service Pilots

WASPs Frances Green, Margaret (Peg) Kirchner, Ann Waldner and Blanche Osborn in front of a B-17 Flying Fortress. These four female pilots leaving their ship at the four engine school at Lockbourne are members of a group of WASPS who have been trained to ferry the B-17 Flying Fortresses. (U.S. Air Force photo)  [source]  

Formation As the United States geared up for World War II after Pearl Harbor, it became clear that there were not enough military pilots to serve both home and abroad. Two women sprang into action to address this need. Nancy Harkness Love and Jacqueline Cochran both began lobbying for using women pilots in the war effort in 1941, but it would take a while for the lack of male pilots to be felt and overcome the prejudice against female pilots. In the summer of 1942, Love began recruiting women under the direction of the American Army Air Force and they were commissioned in September as the Women's Auxiliary Ferrying Squadron to ferry airplanes from factories to flight schools across the country. Meanwhile, Jacqueline Cochran had returned from setting up a similar group in Britain and was put in charge of the Women's Flying Training Detachment in November of the same year under the Army Air Force commander, General Arnold. The first class of WFTDs started training at the Houston Municipal Airport before more permanent quarters were found for them in Sweetwater, Texas at the Avenger Airfield. Both groups continued to operate until August 1943 when they were merged to form the Women's Airforce Service Pilots under Jacqueline Cochran.

WASP trainees, c. 1943. [source]

Training and Duties At Avenger Field, the women were subject to military order, but were still considered civilians. They had to pay for their room and board and had no benefits if they were ill. The women were required to already have some flying experience, but also received addition training. They gained about 210 hours of flight time, spread between several of the most used military aircraft, and 285 hours of classroom instruction over seven months. Male pilots would often come visit the training grounds and Avenger Field was eventually limited to emergency landings only to prevent them from disrupting the women's training, though that didn't stop men from planning emergency landings to get a chance to spend time with the women. The planes were not designed for the women's smaller frames and the WASPs would often carry extra parachutes to be used as booster seats. Despite this, these women often ferried some of the largest aircraft, including B-17 bombers. As they proved themselves as pilots, they were tapped to drag targets for live ammunition target practice, helped with flight training, and tested damaged aircraft. The WASPs were often the first to fly a plane off the line or after it had been repaired, jobs which required numerous emergency landings. Altogether, 1,074 women graduated from the program at Avenger Field, 38 of whom would die in the line of duty. Jacqueline Cochran refused to accept black women as WASPs - she was afraid their presence would jeopardize the program - but two Chinese women were accepted, one of whom, Hazel Ying Lee, died in a plane crash. Altogether, the WASPs ferried more than 12,000 planes and flew 60 million miles between 1942 and the end of the abrupt end of the program in December 1944.

President Barack Obama signs S.614 in the Oval Office July 1. The bill awards a Congressional Gold Medal to Women Airforce Service Pilots. The WASP program was established during World War II, and from 1942 to 1943, more than a thousand women joined, flying sixty million miles of non-combat military missions.  Of the women who received their wings as Women Airforce Service Pilots, approximately 300 are living today. (Official White House photo/Pete Souza)  [source]

Delayed Recognition The WASPs were never officially considered part of the military. In 1944, General Arnold supported a bill in congress to make the WASPs part of the regular military, but it failed. As the war wound down in Europe and more male pilots returned, the WASPs were considered superfluous and the program was terminated. The women were left in whatever city they happened to be in with no resources. The other WASPs would take up collections to help them get home. Since they weren't considered veterans, they also had no access to veteran's benefits, such as health care or education. Most of the women continued on with their lives, keeping in touch and forming reunion groups as the women aged, but not talking too much about their service. Then, in 1976, the Air Force released a statement they were accepting women to be pilots and it would be the first time women had flown for the Air Force. The WASPs were furious at the erasure of their history. After persistent lobbying, Congress granted the women veteran status in 1977. The women began speaking more about their service and built an archive at Texas Women's University. Today, Dr. Katherine Sharp Landdeck of Texas Women's University is one of the experts on the WASPs and has done a lot to bring their story into the public eye. She was interviewed a few years ago on the @missedinhistory podcast [Part 1, Part 2], and has a book forthcoming in 2020, The Women with Silver Wings, which has already been optioned as a film. In 2010, the WASPs received the Congressional Gold Medal, though by that time, only about 300 of the WASPs were still alive. And the fight for their legacy continues. In 2018, the Texas Board of Education included the WASPs on a list of figures to remove from Texas history books in an effort to "streamline" curriculum, though the motion failed after public outcry.

[draculalive]

Jonathan Harker's Journal

29 June. -- To-day is the date of my last letter, and the Count has taken steps to prove that it was genuine, for again I saw him leave the castle by the same window, and in my clothes. As he went down the wall, lizard fashion, I wished I had a gun or some lethal weapon, that I might destroy him; but I fear that no weapon wrought alone by man's hand would have any effect on him. I dared not wait to see him return, for I feared to see those weird sisters. I came back to the library, and read there till I fell asleep.

I was awakened by the Count, who looked at me as grimly as a man can look as he said:---

"To-morrow, my friend, we must part. You return to your beautiful England, I to some work which may have such an end that we may never meet. Your letter home has been despatched; to-morrow I shall not be here, but all shall be ready for your journey. In the morning come the Szgany, who have some labours of their own here, and also come some Slovaks. When they have gone, my carriage shall come for you, and shall bear you to the Borgo Pass to meet the diligence from Bukovina to Bistritz. But I am in hopes that I shall see more of you at Castle Dracula." I suspected him, and determined to test his sincerity. Sincerity! It seems like a profanation of the word to write it in connection with such a monster, so asked him point-blank:---

"Why may I not go to-night?"

"Because, dear sir, my coachman and horses are away on a mission."

"But I would walk with pleasure. I want to get away at once." He smiled, such a soft, smooth, diabolical smile that I knew there was some trick behind his smoothness. He said:---

"And your baggage?"

"I do not care about it. I can send for it some other time."

The Count stood up, and said, with a sweet courtesy which made me rub my eyes, it seemed so real:---

"You English have a saying which is close to my heart, for its spirit is that which rules our boyars: 'Welcome the coming; speed the parting guest.' Come with me, my dear young friend. Not an hour shall you wait in my house against your will, though sad am I at your going, and that you so suddenly desire it. Come!" With a stately gravity, he, with the lamp, preceded me down the stairs and along the hall. Suddenly he stopped.

"Hark!"

Close at hand came the howling of many wolves. It was almost as if the sound sprang up at the rising of his hand, just as the music of a great orchestra seems to leap under the bâton of the conductor. After a pause of a moment, he proceeded, in his stately way, to the door, drew back the ponderous bolts, unhooked the heavy chains, and began to draw it open.

To my intense astonishment I saw that it was unlocked. Suspiciously, I looked all round, but could see no key of any kind.

As the door began to open, the howling of the wolves without grew louder and angrier; their red jaws, with champing teeth, and their blunt-clawed feet as they leaped, came in through the opening door. I knew then that to struggle at the moment against the Count was useless. With such allies as these at his command, I could do nothing. But still the door continued slowly to open, and only the Count's body stood in the gap. Suddenly it struck me that this might be the moment and means of my doom; I was to be given to the wolves, and at my own instigation. There was a diabolical wickedness in the idea great enough for the Count, and as a last chance I cried out:---

"Shut the door; I shall wait till morning!" and covered my face with my hands to hide my tears of bitter disappointment. With one sweep of his powerful arm, the Count threw the door shut, and the great bolts clanged and echoed through the hall as they shot back into their places.

In silence we returned to the library, and after a minute or two I went to my own room. The last I saw of Count Dracula was his kissing his hand to me; with a red light of triumph in his eyes, and with a smile that Judas in hell might be proud of.

When I was in my room and about to lie down, I thought I heard a whispering at my door. I went to it softly and listened. Unless my ears deceived me, I heard the voice of the Count:---

"Back, back, to your own place! Your time is not yet come. Wait! Have patience! To-night is mine. To-morrow night is yours!" There was a low, sweet ripple of laughter, and in a rage I threw open the door, and saw without the three terrible women licking their lips. As I appeared they all joined in a horrible laugh, and ran away.

I came back to my room and threw myself on my knees. It is then so near the end? To-morrow! to-morrow! Lord, help me, and those to whom I am dear!

[technato]

Carnegie Mellon is Saving Old Software from Oblivion

A prototype archiving system called Olive lets vintage code run on today’s computers

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Illustration: Nicholas Little

In early 2010, Harvard economists Carmen Reinhart and Kenneth Rogoff published an analysis of economic data from many countries and concluded that when debt levels exceed 90 percent of gross national product, a nation’s economic growth is threatened. With debt that high, expect growth to become negative, they argued.

This analysis was done shortly after the 2008 recession, so it had enormous relevance to policymakers, many of whom were promoting high levels of debt spending in the interest of stimulating their nations’ economies. At the same time, conservative politicians, such as Olli Rehn, then an EU commissioner, and U.S. congressman Paul Ryan, used Reinhart and Rogoff’s findings to argue for fiscal austerity.

Three years later, Thomas Herndon, a graduate student at the University of Massachusetts, discovered an error in the Excel spreadsheet that Reinhart and Rogoff had used to make their calculations. The significance of the blunder was enormous: When the analysis was done properly, Herndon showed, debt levels in excess of 90 percent were associated with average growth of positive 2.2 percent, not the negative 0.1 percent that Reinhart and Rogoff had found.

Herndon could easily test the Harvard economists’ conclusions because the software that they had used to calculate their results—Microsoft Excel—was readily available. But what about much older findings for which the software originally used is hard to come by?

You might think that the solution—preserving the relevant software for future researchers to use—should be no big deal. After all, software is nothing more than a bunch of files, and those files are easy enough to store on a hard drive or on tape in digital format. For some software at least, the all-important source code could even be duplicated on paper, avoiding the possibility that whatever digital medium it’s written to could become obsolete.

Saving old programs in this way is done routinely, even for decades-old software. You can find online, for example, a full program listing for the Apollo Guidance Computer—code that took astronauts to the moon during the 1960s. It was transcribed from a paper copy and uploaded to GitHub in 2016.

While perusing such vintage source code might delight hard-core programmers, most people aren’t interested in such things. What they want to do is use the software. But keeping software in ready-to-run form over long periods of time is enormously difficult, because to be able to run most old code, you need both an old computer and an old operating system.

You might have faced this challenge yourself, perhaps while trying to play a computer game from your youth. But being unable to run an old program can have much more serious repercussions, particularly for scientific and technical research.

Along with economists, many other researchers, including physicists, chemists, biologists, and engineers, routinely use software to slice and dice their data and visualize the results of their analyses. They simulate phenomena with computer models that are written in a variety of programming languages and that use a wide range of supporting software libraries and reference data sets. Such investigations and the software on which they are based are central to the discovery and reporting of new research results.

Imagine that you’re an investigator and want to check calculations done by another researcher 25 years ago. Would the relevant software still be around? The company that made it may have disappeared. Even if a contemporary version of the software exists, will it still accept the format of the original data? Will the calculations be identical in every respect—for example, in the handling of rounding errors—to those obtained using a computer of a generation ago? Probably not.

Researchers’ growing dependence on computers and the difficulty they encounter when attempting to run old software are hampering their ability to check published results. The problem of obsolescent software is thus eroding the very premise of reproducibility—which is, after all, the bedrock of science.

The issue also affects matters that could be subject to litigation. Suppose, for example, that an engineer’s calculations show that a building design is robust, but the roof of that building nevertheless collapses. Did the engineer make a mistake, or was the software used for the calculations faulty? It would be hard to know years later if the software could no longer be run.

That’s why my colleagues and I at Carnegie Mellon University, in Pittsburgh, have been developing ways to archive programs in forms that can be run easily today and into the future. My fellow computer scientists Benjamin Gilbert and Jan Harkes did most of the required coding. But the collaboration has also involved software archivist Daniel Ryan and librarians Gloriana St. Clair, Erika Linke, and Keith Webster, who naturally have a keen interest in properly preserving this slice of modern culture.

Bringing Back Yesterday’s Software

The Olive system has been used to create 17 different virtual machines that run a variety of old software, some serious, some just for fun. Here are several views from those archived applications

1/8

NCSA Mosaic 1.0, a pioneering Web browser for the Macintosh from 1993.

2/8

Chaste (Cancer, Heart and Soft Tissue Environment) 3.1 for Linux from 2013.

<img src="https://spectrum.ieee.org/image/MzEzMTUzMg.jpeg&quot; data-original="/image/MzEzMTUzMg.jpeg" id="618441086_2" alt="The Oregon Trail 1.1, a game for the Macintosh from 1990.”> 3/8

The Oregon Trail 1.1, a game for the Macintosh from 1990.

<img src="https://spectrum.ieee.org/image/MzEzMTUzNQ.jpeg&quot; data-original="/image/MzEzMTUzNQ.jpeg" id="618441086_3" alt="Wanderer, a game for MS-DOS from 1988.”> 4/8

Wanderer, a game for MS-DOS from 1988.

<img src="https://spectrum.ieee.org/image/MzEzMTU1MA.jpeg&quot; data-original="/image/MzEzMTU1MA.jpeg" id="618441086_4" alt="Mystery House, a game for the Apple II from 1982.”> 5/8

Mystery House, a game for the Apple II from 1982.

6/8

The Great American History Machine, an educational interactive atlas for Windows 3.1 from 1991.

7/8

Microsoft Office 4.3 for Windows 3.1 from 1994.

8/8

ChemCollective, educational chemistry software for Linux from 2013.

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Because this project is more one of archival preservation than mainstream computer science, we garnered financial support for it not from the usual government funding agencies for computer science but from the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation and the Institute for Museum and Library Services. With that support, we showed how to reconstitute long-gone computing environments and make them available online so that any computer user can, in essence, go back in time with just a click of the mouse.

We created a system called Olive—an acronym for Open Library of Images for Virtualized Execution. Olive delivers over the Internet an experience that in every way matches what you would have obtained by running an application, operating system, and computer from the past. So once you install Olive, you can interact with some very old software as if it were brand new. Think if it as a Wayback Machine for executable content.

To understand how Olive can bring old computing environments back to life, you have to dig through quite a few layers of software abstraction. At the very bottom is the common base of much of today’s computer technology: a standard desktop or laptop endowed with one or more x86 microprocessors. On that computer, we run the Linux operating system, which forms the second layer in Olive’s stack of technology.

Sitting immediately above the operating system is software written in my lab called VMNetX, for Virtual Machine Network Execution. A virtual machine is a computing environment that mimics one kind of computer using software running on a different kind of computer. VMNetX is special in that it allows virtual machines to be stored on a central server and then executed on demand by a remote system. The advantage of this arrangement is that your computer doesn’t need to download the virtual machine’s entire disk and memory state from the server before running that virtual machine. Instead, the information stored on disk and in memory is retrieved in chunks as needed by the next layer up: the virtual-machine monitor (also called a hypervisor), which can keep several virtual machines going at once.

Each one of those virtual machines runs a hardware emulator, which is the next layer in the Olive stack. That emulator presents the illusion of being a now-obsolete computer—for example, an old Macintosh Quadra with its 1990s-era Motorola 68040 CPU. (The emulation layer can be omitted if the archived software you want to explore runs on an x86-based computer.)

The next layer up is the old operating system needed for the archived software to work. That operating system has access to a virtual disk, which mimics actual disk storage, providing what looks like the usual file system to still-higher components in this great layer cake of software abstraction.

Above the old operating system is the archived program itself. This may represent the very top of the heap, or there could be an additional layer, consisting of data that must be fed to the archived application to get it to do what you want.

The upper layers of Olive are specific to particular archived applications and are stored on a central server. The lower layers are installed on the user’s own computer in the form of the Olive client software package. When you launch an archived application, the Olive client fetches parts of the relevant upper layers as needed from the central server.

Illustration: Nicholas Little

Layers of Abstraction: Olive requires many layers of software abstraction to create a suitable virtual machine. That virtual machine then runs the old operating system and application.

That’s what you’ll find under the hood. But what can Olive do? Today, Olive consists of 17 different virtual machines that can run a variety of operating systems and applications. The choice of what to include in that set was driven by a mix of curiosity, availability, and personal interests. For example, one member of our team fondly remembered playing The Oregon Trail when he was in school in the early 1990s. That led us to acquire an old Mac version of the game and to get it running again through Olive. Once word of that accomplishment got out, many people started approaching us to see if we could resurrect their favorite software from the past.

The oldest application we’ve revived is Mystery House, a graphics-enabled game from the early 1980s for the Apple II computer. Another program is NCSA Mosaic, which people of a certain age might remember as the browser that introduced them to the wonders of the World Wide Web.

Olive provides a version of Mosaic that was written in 1993 for Apple’s Macintosh System 7.5 operating system. That operating system runs on an emulation of the Motorola 68040 CPU, which in turn is created by software running on an actual x86-based computer that runs Linux. In spite of all this virtualization, performance is pretty good, because modern computers are so much faster than the original Apple hardware.

Pointing Olive’s reconstituted Mosaic browser at today’s Web is instructive: Because Mosaic predates Web technologies such as JavaScript, HTTP 1.1, Cascading Style Sheets, and HTML 5, it is unable to render most sites. But you can have some fun tracking down websites composed so long ago that they still look just fine.

What else can Olive do? Maybe you’re wondering what tools businesses were using shortly after Intel introduced the Pentium processor. Olive can help with that, too. Just fire up Microsoft Office 4.3 from 1994 (which thankfully predates the annoying automated office assistant “Clippy”).

Perhaps you just want to spend a nostalgic evening playing Doom for DOS—or trying to understand what made such first-person shooter games so popular in the early 1990s. Or maybe you need to redo your 1997 taxes and can’t find the disk for that year’s version of TurboTax in your attic. Have no fear: Olive has you covered.

On the more serious side, Olive includes Chaste 3.1. The name of this software is short for Cancer, Heart and Soft Tissue Environment. It’s a simulation package developed at the University of Oxford for computationally demanding problems in biology and physiology. Version 3.1 of Chaste was tied to a research paper published in March 2013. Within two years of publication, though, the source code for Chaste 3.1 no longer compiled on new Linux releases. That’s emblematic of the challenge to scientific reproducibility Olive was designed to address.

Illustration: Nicholas Little

To keep Chaste 3.1 working, Olive provides a Linux environment that’s frozen in time. Olive’s re-creation of Chaste also contains the example data that was published with the 2013 paper. Running the data through Chaste produces visualizations of certain muscle functions. Future physiology researchers who wish to explore those visualizations or make modifications to the published software will be able to use Olive to edit the code on the virtual machine and then run it.

For now, though, Olive is available only to a limited group of users. Because of software-licensing restrictions, Olive’s collection of vintage software is currently accessible only to people who have been collaborating on the project. The relevant companies will need to give permissions to present Olive’s re-creations to broader audiences.

We are not alone in our quest to keep old software alive. For example, the Internet Archive is preserving thousands of old programs using an emulation of MS-DOS that runs in the user’s browser. And a project being mounted at Yale, called EaaSI (Emulation as a Service Infrastructure), hopes to make available thousands of emulated software environments from the past. The scholars and librarians involved with the Software Preservation Network have been coordinating this and similar efforts. They are also working to address the copyright issues that arise when old software is kept running in this way.

Olive has come a long way, but it is still far from being a fully developed system. In addition to the problem of restrictive software licensing, various technical roadblocks remain.

One challenge is how to import new data to be processed by an old application. Right now, such data has to be entered manually, which is both laborious and error prone. Doing so also limits the amount of data that can be analyzed. Even if we were to add a mechanism to import data, the amount that could be saved would be limited to the size of the virtual machine’s virtual disk. That may not seem like a problem, but you have to remember that the file systems on older computers sometimes had what now seem like quaint limits on the amount of data they could store.

Another hurdle is how to emulate graphics processing units (GPUs). For a long while now, the scientific community has been leveraging the parallel-processing power of GPUs to speed up many sorts of calculations. To archive executable versions of software that takes advantage of GPUs, Olive would need to re-create virtual versions of those chips, a thorny task. That’s because GPU interfaces—what gets input to them and what they output—are not standardized.

Clearly there’s quite a bit of work to do before we can declare that we have solved the problem of archiving executable content. But Olive represents a good start at creating the kinds of systems that will be required to ensure that software from the past can live on to be explored, tested, and used long into the future.

This article appears in the October 2018 print issue as “Saving Software From Oblivion.”

About the Author

Mahadev Satyanarayanan is a professor of computer science at Carnegie Mellon University, in Pittsburgh.

Carnegie Mellon is Saving Old Software from Oblivion syndicated from https://jiohowweb.blogspot.com

[acapelladitty]

enjoy this small drabble for @dolphinsjukebox which features the Gotham Rogues banding together to help Waylon Jones celebrate his birthday

It wasn’t every day the local human-crocodile hybrid celebrated a birthday but given that Waylon Jones was on relatively good terms with his fellow rogues, he should not have been too surprised to find that a few had banded together to wish him good tidings.

His gaze sweeping across his small sewer-based lair and the individuals whom had ventured down with gifts, a swell of something warm rose in his chest and caused a small grin to appear on his lips.

Greetings had been exchanged and hugs, for the ladies at least, had been provided and some gifts had been given.

Nygma had created an underwater rebreather to allow him to spend longer underwater without having to resurface for air while Tetch had crafted him a delicate-looking skip-cap which he had no intention of ever wearing.

At least not until he’d made sure it didn’t have any of Tetch’s tech hidden inside it.

Selina had given him a hoodie; large enough to ensure that his skin was covered when he ventured out amongst people in public. It looked black but when it was put under light it showed up as a very deep bottle green which he was privately very excited to test out.

He loved receiving clothing.

It made him feel human.

“My turn!” Harley squealed, her hands hidden behind her back. “Both me and Pammy,” she indicated to Ivy who was by her side, “clubbed together to get you this.”

Pulling her hands out, she thrust a large crocodile plush in his face, her grin splitting her face with enthusiasm.

“What d'ya think of it?”

Plucking the gift from her, Waylon brought it closer for inspection. The texture was soft as silk but it was sturdy enough to be in little danger of his scaled hands as he turned it over and saw his name sewn onto the small tag at the back. The emerald green crocodile had a wide smile which showcased its sharp, white teeth and Waylon’s jaw stretched into a similar smile as he took in the sentimental gift.

“Thanks.”

The word was sincere and both Harley and Ivy gave him warm looks of appreciation.

“I have no gift,” stepping up, Crane was next to speak, “but I do have an offer of potential work which I want to provide to you before I look in other areas.”

“What a generous soul.” Ivy rolled her eyes.

“I would not make this offer,” Crane met her haughtily, “unless it carried a great reward for him to achieve.”

As Cranes’ eyes never left his own, Waylon gave a sharp nod of agreement that their business could be discussed at a later date when less bodies were present.

“Last but not least, eh?” Digger cut in as he presented the last gift of the evening.

Handing over the small, almost dirty-looking box, Digger gave a greasy smile as he tilted his head at his fellow squad survivor.

“Just so ya know, mate,” he secured the box in Waylons’ hands with a cheeky wink, “I got ya a gorgeous pair ‘a thongs.”

Silence.

“You bought him what?” Crane was the first to recover his thoughts.

“Thongs.” Digger repeated, now confused by the changed atmosphere. “Even got 'im green and yellow ones to match his scales!”

More than one head found itself being shook of unwanted mental images as Digger further explained his gift.

“Harkness…” Selina began but was quickly interrupted.

“Why would ya buy him thongs?” Harleys’ frown was matched by her pouted lips as she spoke her thoughts aloud.” “Crocy ain’t really a thong type-a guy. I think?”

She looked to Waylon for support and was met with a negative look.

“Disappointed to hear that, big guy.” Digger shrugged. “Thought ya could have used 'em when you were bouncing in and out the water.”

“Why would he-” Edward piped up, finally involving himself in the conversation. “Why would that matter? What impact can thongs have in water?”

Faced with a room full of faces varying from confusion, to suspicion, to vague amusement, Digger held up his hands in defense. Opening his mouth again, it snapped shut just as quickly as an obvious thought came to him.

“Flip-flops.” He sighed, rubbing his head in his hands. “You people call 'em flip-flops.”

Again, silence held steadfast in the room before the inevitable explosion as realisation dawned.

Laughter, a deafening cacophony, erupted from each member of the party as the mistake came to light with the loud rumblings of Waylon being easily detectable over the higher-pitched humans.

Digger Harkness.

Human disaster and noted Australian.

They always seemed to forget that second part.

[astrognossienne]

moon signs in the 11th house

The eleventh house, ruled by the sign of Aquarius and the planet of Uranus, symbolizes how we contribute our resources to the community and in service of future generations. This house is usually referred to as the “house of friendship”, and indeed it highlights your friends and acquaintances, as well as the influence of groups and societies on your life, but really, your very closest friends are the realm of the seventh house. Eleventh house friends tend to run in packs—groups of people bound by common interests and circumstance, like your Harry Styles fan club or the gang of work friends who get together for Friday happy hour. Your general hopes and aspirations reveal themselves through this house, as well as how well you function as part of a system. This can extend to indicating how you manifest your creativity against the background of the community and your political activity. This house also covers global awareness and ecological matters, as well as other humanitarian issues. When lunar energy is filtered through the house of social groups, hopes and global awareness, different veils of emotional vulnerability are displayed.

moon in aries in the 11th: Many of your friends hark from your early days of childhood. It’s a struggle for you to let go of the past so that the future can unfold. Your apprehension about the future causes you to resist change and limits your ability to take advantage of opportunities. You are assertive and independent, but you can be too hasty at times. You might be tempted to test your friends from time to time. You need a higher and consistent level of freedom in your life when it comes to your friends and other close relationships.

moon in taurus in the 11th: You’re far more resourceful and qualified than you know. A career that makes demands will force you to use your natural talents and, thus, pay you well. It is amongst groups of people that you feel at your most secure and comfortable. You are sociable, fun-loving and you love music. You love beautiful things, good food, fine clothes and warm friends, often in large quantities. You truly enjoy being surrounded by family members, friends, and acquaintances with whom you are warm and demonstrative.

moon in gemini in the 11th: You have an original and intelligent mind, which has the potential to stir the emotions of large groups of people. Because you’re so effective in communicating with the pubic, you should look for a job that requires direct involvement with people. People often tell you their problems because the know you understand them. You are in a perpetual state of inquiry, but be careful because continual chatter may prevent the discussion of anything truly meaningful. The novel and the unique easily distract you and your mind jumps from one thing to another with alacrity.

moon in cancer in the 11th: You mother your friends and expect them to mother you back when you need it. In fact, your circle of friends may even evolve into a surrogate family for you. You also tend to regard your mother as more of a friend. You want to be sure you’ve satisfied your family’s needs so that you’re no longer beholden to them. Your anxieties about the future will decrease by improving your ability to earn, which may entail some sacrifices. You sympathize with humanity in general but receive no reciprocity when it comes to others sympathizing with you.

moon in leo in the 11th: It is not unusual to find you taking a leading role within a group, because amongst your many talents is the ability to stir the feelings of large groups of people. Your family is very important to you, and you’re constantly worrying that they have everything they need. Your efforts, however, would be best directed toward using new skills when your family no longer needs your attention. People who are indifferent and uncaring turn you off.

moon in virgo in the 11th: You may say that you can’t to retire, but when the time comes you may resist it, because you enjoy being involved in the world around you. You don’t need to worry about how to occupy your time, since you have a vast array of outside interests. Sometimes life can seem disappointing because no-one or nothing ever seems to live up to your expectations. You may not have a huge circle of friends because you are so discriminating.

moon in libra in the 11th: You work very hard to convince your partner that you care, when it probably isn’t necessary. Your partner already gives you the support you need to extend yourself in your career. You are a very diplomatic person, partly because it forms a part of your courteous nature, and partly because you need emotional calm. You have a tendency to chase elusive people as friends instead of cultivating a strong and lasting friendship.

moon in scorpio in the 11th: Although you don’t have that many really close friends, your circle of acquaintances is very wide. You don’t give yourself full credit for what you can accomplish i given the opportunity, although others around you are aware of it. As long as people act above board with you, there is nothing you won’t do for them. On the other hand, if they act treacherously against you, you will nurse a grudge for a very long time and can be quite vindictive.

moon in sagittarius in the 11th: Because you fear the unknown, you usually stay with tried and true methods rather than taking risks. However, you know your fears are unwarranted; you’ve come this far without running into major trouble. Education may help you achieve security and success in life. Your emphasis is more on outside activities than home-based activities. Affectionate, outgoing, and sociable, you have many friends and acquaintances.

moon in capricorn in the 11th: Groups, organizations and clubs can provide you with a sense of belonging as well as a much needed rest from the challenges of life, for you tend to find life a constant struggle. You may enjoy a certain satisfaction in your career because of the return you get for your efforts, however you should continue to extend yourself even more and capitalize on your wealth of knowledge. You want to be recognized as capable and independent, not needing to rely on anyone.

moon in aquarius in the 11th: It is likely that you are interested in active community or local politics, and you may be tempted to push aside your personal life for the sake of your involvement in larger issues. If you feel apprehensive about the future, you’re only projecting your own feeling of inadequacy. You should establish fairly easy goals at first, so that you feel assured that you can succeed. Then you can enlarge them. You can be aloof at times and quite unpredictable because you love freedom.

moon in pisces in the 11th: Your aims and objectives in life tend to fluctuate and vary according to your moods. You are also easily influenced by other people’s opinions about what is best for you. Because of your hesitancy about the future, you must plan ahead so that you know what’s coming. Your talents will be fully appreciated if you use them for social causes, and you’ll soon see good results. You are very aware of the problems of the world and your social obligations, but it is difficult for you to find the means or the motivation to do something about them.

moon signs in the first house ☾ moon signs in the second house ☾ moon signs in the third house ☾ moon signs in the fourth house ☾ moon signs in the fifth house ☾ moon signs in the sixth house ☾ moon signs in the seventh house ☾ moon signs in the eighth house ☾ moon signs in the ninth house ☾ moon signs in the tenth house ☾ moon signs in the eleventh house ☾ moon signs in the twelfth house

classy. bold. provocative. depraved. sophisticated. intelligent. unique. click here for a much more realistic and refined view of astrology (18+ ONLY)

[getfawked]

The Best It Can Get.

As we look back over the two years of this pandemic we gain some insight, though as people in positions of responsibility like to lament 'it is still too early to tell'. Or is it? The entire debacle from start to finish can be broken down into chapters, and just like a book the twists and turns that took place on a global scale made the story quite compelling, but where does it end? Or has it already slipped away in the night, like a meandering, forest dwelling loner?

The best scenario that we could probably hope for, would be a highly contagious, and prevalent week form of the virus which prepares the immune system (in the majority of cases) for any additional and possibly more lethal versions of first the virus, and ultimately the disease(s) it may cause. This would be the quickest, most effective, most economic, and least damaging path through this situation. Currently we have a few vaccines which give the human immune system a heads up on what may lay ahead, but science can rarely produce what nature can. The vaccines, I am sure have helped to a large degree, but with the approach lacking a 'preparation mutation' it leaves us in the icy grip of a failure catalog. This failure catalog has many entries, from the short term there is the closing of businesses, the lack of travel and the stranding of people around the world, who cannot afford to circumvent the system like some 'chosen few'. With the lock-downs came anxiety, and depression to minds that had never been touched by the black dog. Care homes were filled with infected people, driven out of hospitals to make way for more Trojan horses, whom in turn were sent to care homes, as though they had a job to finish. This for me will be the underlining failure above all, as it is a needless failure, the powers that be are guilty in that case of gross negligence, how else can we accept that these decisions could have been made, if they were not made badly?

We knew from the start that this virus had the potential to infect anyone, we learned quickly that the disease that it caused was on average, markedly worse for the elderly and those with underlying health problems. Still, people were shifted from hospitals (or disease farms) to take up residency with those most vulnerable without being cleared first. It harks back to the illogical inadequacy of blood screening of the 1980's, when blood plasma was imported from US convicts to the UK. Most of this blood matter was not screened for hepatitis and latterly HIV. These are the kinds of historical, needless mistakes that resonate in today's practice. 'Lessons must be learnt' comes the unimaginative rhetoric, but in reality they are often not.

Also included in the failure catalog (if you will indulge my slight return) is the lateral flow test, not for its inaccuracy as 70%ish seems better than nothing, but for the future generations that will be fishing billions of these things out of the oceans. Along with all the other paraphernalia included in conducting a screening, and a testing on each.

Our greatest clinicians, chemists, doctors, nurses, laboratory staff, virologists, epidemiologists, et all, have been up to their bow ties in it over these last two years. The set back to our global medicinal progress is immeasurable, as their expertise has been wrapped up in this primary threat. The backlog of patients requiring treatment for existing conditions, has also claimed many lives, as these cases were pushed back to make way.

There is enough from anyone country on this topic to fill a volume of novels, let alone approaching the subject on an earth wide scale. We (I am sure) will try to cover as much of this as we can, as succinctly as we can, when the podcast goes out.

Ultimately, if this is as bad as it gets, it could have been far worse. For those who have lost loved ones directly or indirectly due to the rise of this pandemic, our hearts go out to you.

It looks as though this coronavirus is here to stay, and will mutate itself evermore, similar to influenza, in which case the best we can hope for is fewer fatalities, and for most, cold like symptoms.

We are also going to require fast actions by those in power, tougher decisions, better insight, and most importantly though seemingly least likely, common sense.

If there were to be a new viral pandemic to hit this planet over the next few years, I can only hope that it will be dealt with, with 'lessons learned', said not as rhetoric or with irony, but in the very literal and meaningful sense. That, though not perfect, is our best human response to any crisis, knowledge is the foundation of science and reason, and they are our best tools to negate any problem.

That for the future, is... The best it can get.

[maincatclub]

I want to add an entry about songs and songwriters. Have added my favourites so far all of whom could easily fall into the category of singer songwriters these range from Bob Dylan to Paul Simon. I am not one of those that believe that the singer songwriters have to stand up with a guitar a microphone and pass there words on. For instance one of Bob Dylan’s most creative periods was when he played with the Band. So I want to hark back to over half a century ago and talk about Cat Stevens. Again there is caveate that many people will be split over what his best album is but for me I would say Teaser and the Firecat.

Cat Stevens fifty years after its release released Teaser and the Firecat 2 a reworking of the album 50 years on, but the original has stood the test of time well. I was lucky enough to have seen Cat Stevens in concert on what what was a greatest hits tour called the Magicats Tour. It was in a barn of a place called Bingley Hall at the Staffordshire County Showground. He was good his band were excellent and there was generally a peaceful vibe about the place.

Soon after this tour Cat Stevens quit the music business and accepted Islam as his religion. He worked tirelessly for the rights of children and has won many honary awards for this work. Because he became a Muslim he changed his name to Yusef Islam and recorded three albums under this name. It must be said having listened to then, there is little difference between his work as Yusef and his work as Cat Stevens, shortly after the recording of the third album he toured small intimate venues in the U.S. using the title Yusef/Cat Stevens together.