#macro teaching

[instrill]

Best Commerce, Business Studies and Economics Lesson Plans for B.ED all Semesters/Years students and teachers Class 9, 10, 11, 12 in English..

[shadowcow]

Messing around with a macro lens that lets you take giga closeup pics of things, tried it out shooting an old instruction manual. Actually kinda cool how much detail you can get on these!

[splendidbadger]

Tfa bulkhead 💜💚

Hes such a sweetie i love him i kiss him. I kiss him I kiss Prowl I kiss Ratchet I kiss Nanosec I kiss Masterson.

[unopenablebox]

apparently, by happening to know that you need to preallocate arrays in matlab, i've saved my labmate like five days of simulation time

the shock of having had useful programming-related knowledge not already known to all of mankind was so enormous that i may need to lie down

[avianautopsy]

Merry Christmas!!!

My keyboard broke like an hour ago

This is the worst time it could have broken as everywhere is shut

Feels like Jesus is gonna appear and teach me about the spirit of Christmas or something and breaking my keyboard was part of the lesson

I’m gonna suplex him the moment he appears

It might be his birthday but he doesn’t get a free pass

Guy out here taking my keyboard away mid essay + stopping me from drawing

My violence is justified

[tikitakatia]

Swapsies — A.Putellas x Reader

WC: 0.9k

Summary: It was supposed to be a quiet night just watching netflix. Now you're late, Alexia's wearing toothpaste, and someone definitely packed the wrong lunch.

You wake up in a panic.

The kind of panic that comes from realizing you and Alexia were definitely not watching Netflix until 2am like you promised yourselves. No. There were zero shows. Just a lot of kissing. A little dancing in the kitchen. And then… Well, let’s just say the couch is never going to look at you two the same way again.

Now the sun is way too high in the sky, and both of you are tangled in sheets, limbs, and disaster.

“Mierda,” Alexia mumbles, hair a complete mess from how many times your hands had been in it last night: angled, tousled, and very much the result of non-sleep-related activities. “I have that meeting at the foundation.”

“And I’m late for my first day at the new school,” you groan, pulling on pants backwards and realizing only after you’ve buttoned them.

Chaos becomes teamwork. You pass her a hoodie while brushing your teeth. She hands you a banana with her mouth still full of toothpaste. Somehow, two lunch boxes make it into two bags and kisses are exchanged like a panicked currency.

“I love you!”

“Don’t die!”

And you both vanish into the day.

You’re halfway through your substitute teaching gig, taking a small food break when you realize: something’s wrong.

This isn’t your lunch.

You open the container expecting your sad, weird combo of a PB&J sandwich, half a granola bar, and the cookie you accidentally sat on last night during “couch activities.” Instead, you’re staring at a perfectly arranged, macro-balanced meal of grilled salmon, quinoa, avocado, and steamed broccoli. There’s even a tiny tupperware of tahini dressing.

You’ve made a terrible mistake.

Across town, Alexia is chewing on your sandwich like it personally offended her.

The granola bar crumbles in her hand. The cookie is fused to its wrapper in a way that feels disrespectful. By 11:30, she’s in a boardroom, smiling politely while her stomach growls loud enough to register on nearby seismographs. One of the interns glances under the table like a small animal might be loose.

Alexia excuses herself with the calmness of someone about to rob a bank.

The school receptionist doesn’t even question her. Just blinks twice as Alexia, hair in a bun, hoodie half-zipped, marches through the door like she owns the place.

She’s almost made it to the staff room when it happens.

“OH MY GOD.”

Three kids spot her first.

Then five more.

Then ten.

Suddenly, she’s swarmed.

“ALEXIA PUTELLAS?!”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”

“Are you a substitute now? Is it for P.E.?!”

“Can I touch your hair?!”

“Do you live in Messi’s old house?!”

Before she can say a single word, one kid is hugging her leg. Another is already climbing her back like she’s a jungle gym. A small girl with sparkly glasses hands her a crayon drawing of “Alexia and a lion fighting crime.” A boy in a Spider-Man T-shirt asks if her knees “make robot sounds when she runs.”

Someone gives her a juice box.

Someone else tries to trade her a Pokémon card for “one goal in a real match.”

She’s signing a notebook when a group drags her to the gym for an impromptu penalty shootout using a foam ball and a laundry basket as a goal.

“Play fair!” one girl yells. “You’re a world champion, not a cheater!”

Alexia raises her hands in surrender. “I’m just trying to eat!”

They don’t care. She’s theirs now.

By the time she finally finds you, she looks like she’s survived a toddler uprising. Her hoodie is covered in stickers. There’s glitter on her face. A “Be Kind” badge has been clipped to her chest, crooked.

You’re sitting in the cafeteria, already smirking, watching her approach. You know what’s coming. Alexia, with her signature determined look, angling straight for your lunch, ready to reclaim her stolen meal. She’s probably plotting her usual move to swipe it from right under your nose.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you say, leaning back in your seat with your arms crossed, making sure to place her lunch in front of you like a prized possession.

“They mobbed me,” she says, eyes wide. “I got tackled. Tackled. I played an entire match and didn’t get this bruised.”

You raise an eyebrow, trying to suppress a grin. “Did you win?”

She looks down at her foam ball trophy with marker scribbles and shrugs. “Barely.”

You chuckle. “You’re always so dramatic.”

She raises an eyebrow back, giving you a pointed look. “I’m not the one who stole food.”

You’re about to respond when she makes her move. She shifts toward your lunch, clearly intent on getting back the meal you “borrowed” from her. You brace the usual swift maneuver, but instead of snatching your food, she pulls out another lunchbox, a second one, and slides it in front of you with a grin.

“You’re not the only one who can play the food game,” she says. “I figured you might need something healthier today.”

You stare at the neatly packed lunch: grilled chicken, roasted veggies, quinoa, and hummus. A smile tugs at the corner of your mouth.

“You’re a sneaky one,” you say, shaking your head in amusement.

She smirks, sitting down next to you. “Just making sure you actually eat something that won’t leave you starving in an hour.”

You look at the meal in front of you and then back at her. “This is way too nice for me.”

“Yeah, well,” she shrugs, picking at her own lunch with a satisfied look, “you’ve earned it.”

You lean over, kiss her, glitter and all, because even after a chaotic morning, she’s found a way to take care of you.

And somehow, she still looks like she could score a hat trick right after.

[3liza]

every new medical resident I meet at the teaching clinic where I have my primary care assignment is so stupid it is unbelievable.

today a nice young woman in her 20s asked me if I was "in therapy for my ADHD" (what?) and then asked me to "take a picture" of the next cold sore I got in one of my nostrils. "i don't think I can take a macro photograph inside my own nose" I said. "well it's just that cold sores don't usually form there" okay, that's, first of all, irrelevant to the fact of me not owning an endoscope, and secondly, 100% not true, it is just normal human pathology knowledge that herpesviruses colonize nerves and erupt anywhere there are nerves, preferring but not limited to mucus membranes. you can get herpes sores on your fingers. it's called herpetic whitlow and every family doctor should already be aware it's a basic differential for any kind of paronychia because it's extremely common for people to transmit cold sore virus (hsv1) from their oral mucosa to their fingers, because all of us are constantly stuffing our stupid fingers in our mouths because were stupid and gross, this is just what humans do. so yes it is inside your nose most of the time too, whether you notice or not, which I suspect most people dont because it just feels like an itchy nostril zit or ingrown nose hair unless you are a true connoisseur of constant pointless suffering like myself

I don't understand why I'm called upon to convince actual medical professionals of either documented symptomology that is decades or hundreds of years in the literature, hold their little hands while begging them to look it up themselves (they won't), and then talked to like i am a moron for reading the papers on PubMed i can't fathom why you were allowed to, apparently, skip over entirely. when I say "herpesviruses are known to erupt in mucosa but can colonize any nerve tissue, particularly in immunocompromised individuals, which I apparently am" you should at most just be nodding brusquely because I am telling you something that you already know. this is like saying to you that urinary tract infections can cause cognitive effects in the elderly. it's like simple family doctor, first suspected diagnosis, take two of these and call me in the morning level doctoring. it should have been covered in your undergraduate classes because it is a medical complication of most humans on earth.

[leashybebes]

fuck it no-longer-friday

i'm only sort of here this weekend, but @bidisasterevankinard tagged me yesterday and i have a little allying snippet so let's go!

In the end, Bobby does most of the actual cooking, but he does set Buck to work chopping some things and mixing others. They're twenty minutes into the process before Buck realizes Bobby's doing the same thing he does in the field - just dropping bits of information alongside the process. Not lecturing, not even really teaching in the way Buck usually thinks of it, but showing Buck what to do, and sprinkling in the why as they go. Like, Buck understands fat content of different meats in terms of macros, but he had no idea about how that would influence texture. He didn't know that you should add different seasonings at different points so nothing ends up bitter.

Like it's the same as telling Buck how not to burn the garlic, Bobby says, "It's good of you to do this for Tommy. I didn't realize you knew each other."

"Yeah," Buck says. "He used to come into a bar I worked at before I started the academy. He's a cool guy."

"Yeah, Tommy's good people," Bobby says, and Buck makes a mental note to tell Tommy he said that.

By the time they're done, they have a double batch of meatballs, but Bobby's recommended cooking the pasta from scratch so Buck guesses he'll pick some up on the way over after his shift. The others pile in to the kitchen while Buck's boxing up the extra portions, and it's Bobby who lets them know.

[tobiasdrake]

It's easy to be spiteful. I'm mad. I'm so, so mad. I am absolutely furious in a way that leaves me with little sympathy for the people who put us in this situation.

It would be one thing if you got in the car drunk and drove into a lightpole, and now I was standing over your bed in the hospital.

But I was in the car next to you. My family was in the car. You hurt us too. In fact, you probably hurt us worse than you hurt yourself. It's hard for me to muster sympathy from the hospital bed next to yours.

I'm angry. I'm so angry. And scared. And hurt.

...

But I keep coming back to the Civil War. Something that I don't think we, as a country, ever truly reckoned with was how the Civil War ended.

We think of the Civil War as, "There were these people who betrayed the country and tried to form their own country to enshrine slavery, and we beat them." That's the end of the story. The Confederates were defeated, slavery ended. We won.

But. Like.

We didn't. Like. Get rid of the Confederates and their ideology or something. At the end of the war... they and their ideas became Americans again. Their voices rejoined our own, equally weighted. That was literally the goal of the conflict.

The Confederacy didn't go away. It just came home. It was still there, burning in the hearts of all those people that were made Americans once more. And it perpetuated and grew and spread unchecked while we got drunk on stories of how we'd vanquished it.

...

There is no version of the future where we drive all the Trump Supporters into the sea and then Trumpism is never spoken of again. When all is said and done... they're still going to be here. With their ideas and their beliefs, adding their voices to our own. If we make it through this, we will still be in community with these people. That is how democracy works.

I see people talking about conversations they've had with Trump regretters in their lives. And it's so easy to be cynical about it. You fool. You absolute fool. If someone voted because they wanted the price of eggs to drop and now they're just pissy that the price of eggs hasn't dropped, I do not trust that person not to sell us out to the next charlatan who comes along.

...but if someone voted because the news was lying to them about how cool slashing regulations would be and now they're realizing that they're going to lose healthcare and their children's education is going to take a hit? I don't know. If they're starting to realize that they're being duped, then maybe that is a learning opportunity. But only if they have someone willing to teach them.

A long time ago, I saw political activism put on, like, a five point scale. Like, 1 and 5 are people with dug-in Left and Right politics. These people are not here to be convinced. They know what they believe and they think you're a sucker at best and the enemy at worst if you start spouting the other side's talking points near them.

3, in the middle, that's people who are completely unengaged. They're up for grabs.

And then 2 and 4, those are the voters who are leaning in one direction, but can be plied by the other side. They haven't hardened their beliefs into the iron wall of a 1 or 5, and it may be worth trying to convince them to come across the fence.

So if you're talking to a 5, you should save your breath. It's a waste of both their time and yours to try and get them to see your point of view. But a 3 or a 4 might be worth the time to sit with and discuss their beliefs and politics if you're trying to bring more people over to the Left.

...

On the macro scale, as far as the Midterm elections go, none of this matters. Nothing Trump's doing right now will be relevant in November 2026. This is a dirty little secret of politics.

After every election, there's about a 12-18 month grace period where you can do whatever you want without fear of electoral consequences, because people vote in November of Current Year based on how they are feeling about the state of the country in that moment. They do not take a referendum of all your political actions over the course of your term. They just vote based on the vibes they're feeling at time of voting.

You know how a kid can misbehave he wants for eleven months out of the year but then has to put on his best face for Santa when December rolls around? Politics are kinda like that. As destructive as this is, none of it will matter in the Midterms. What Trump does from January to November of 2026 is what will matter in the Midterms, with increasing relevancy the closer it is to that election.

If someone is upset with Trump today but then he gives them free vaccines or something in September 2026 then they'll think the Republicans did super well for those last two years. He is currently gleefully indulging in his consequence-free grace period.

But.

If the chaos he's unleashing on his own supporters is enough to momentarily crack a 5 and bring it back down to a 4?

...

Feelings don't care about your facts.

Cults don't build membership based on their ideas. Their ideas are stupid. Nobody listens to someone ramble about how the lizard people are working for Xenu to trick us all into thinking the moon exists and goes, "Yeah, that sounds reasonable. That's accurate to my life experience. I think this guy's making some solid points!"

People join cults because they're isolated. They're lonely. The cult offers a sense of community, a sense of belonging to something. People are social creatures, first and foremost, and they follow where their desire for a group dynamic leads them. They embrace the ideas that the community embraces. The rhetoric is their cost of entry. And they shun the ideas that the community shuns.

A key element of cult indoctrination is isolation from outside voices. So that they're only hearing these ideas, they can only find acceptance with these people. They will do the mental gymnastics that they need to do in order to be embraced and loved by someone, and the cult makes sure they feel that the only someone who ever could embrace and love them... is the cult.

But when that rhetorical armor cracks?

It can be repaired. Left to their own devices, they can do the mental gymnastics. They can find a way to make this make sense, so that they can return to the only community that will ever accept them.

Or they could let it break. Take the slap in the face, take the sudden shock for what it is, and walk away.

There's no way of guaranteeing what a person will do. But they're more likely to leave if there are people waiting for them outside, willing to take them by the hand and walk them out the door.

On a macro level, nothing Trump does today will be remembered in November 2026.

But if what Trump does today cracks someone's rhetorical armor, and they walk away? If they change what they believe between now and then? They might not go back to him.

...

I don't know what to do with all of this.

I am so, so angry. There are people in my life that I feel personally betrayed by. I don't want to hear that I should be patient with them. That I should be civil towards them. IT'S NOT MY FUCKING JOB TO EDUCATE YOU, YOU STUPID PIECE OF--

...

But if someone is suffering a crisis of faith in conservatism, the voices that guide them through it can't be Ben Shapiro, Jesse Watters, and Andrew Tate.

Because when all of this is over, they're still going to be here. And we're still going to have to try and move forward as a democracy, with their voices joined to ours.

...

I don't know where we go from here. I don't even know if we'll survive this moment in history.

I just have a lot of feelings.

[misssmina]

Characterizing Characters:

Kirishima Eijirou.

I’ll be using the source material to create a simple list of traits he has already, then based on those traits, things we can infer about him based on those behaviors.

SourceMaterial!Kirishima curses. He has a potty mouth, especially in battle.

SourceMaterial!Kirishima is a shit talker. You can hear him cracking jokes at/about other characters in the show, not maliciously of course.

SM!Kirishima was insecure as a young teen, and still struggles with negative self talk.

SM!Kirishima is very observant and emotionally intelligent.

SM!Kirishima is a big eater. Hungry boy

SM!Kirishima has a strong moral compass, it’s gotten him in trouble.

SM!Kirishima actively pushes pasts his physical limits, regardless of injury or exhaustion.

SM!Kirishima always gives people their flowers. He regularly recognizes his classmates/colleagues growth and lets them know it. He is the pep talk king.

SM!Kirishima can and WILL correct bad behavior. He regularly calls out his peers when they behave poorly.

SM!Kirishima handles criticism extremely well for a teen, takes everything he learns and applies it immediately.

SM!Kirishima is very street smart. Struggles with book smarts but is fairly studious.

SM!Kirishima has mission anxiety, probably from his first very intense missions.

Now we can make some inferences based on the information we have already.

Prohero!Kirishima has lots of scars (obviously) but based on how he uses his quirk, he’d probably have similar hand scars to Midoriya. Scars focused on his knuckles, wrists, and elbows.

Prohero!Kirishima cracks jokes at his sidekicks/mentees to keep the mood light when training.

Prohero!Kirishima is excellent with kids, probably would regularly do events for kids to teach them about heroic/chivalrous behavior.

Prohero!Kirishima eats like a dumpster. BUT macros matter more to him than calories. He will eat a carton of boiled eggs.

Prohero!Kirishima is a combat hero but made sure to learn the calming and descolation techniques that rescue hero’s use.

Prohero!Kirishima still has moments of quirk insecurity, but he talks about it openly with the public for others to relate to.

Prohero!Kirishima has pre-mission anxiety. Does better when just thrown into action.

And here are some personal head cannons I have for him. 🪨

Cracks his knuckles as a nervous tick

Will crouch to make himself shorter in a crowd so people can see over him

As a pro, he’s somehow always shocked to see fan pages and edits of himself

Hates the sound of his own voice in recordings

His memory is awful. Always remembers important dates like a day late.

Loves giving nicknames but forgets his own sometimes. (“Hey, Riot!” “*Points at himself* Me?” “???”)

Keeps telling himself he’s gonna stop swearing, keeps forgetting to stop.

Falls asleep on FaceTime kind of guy. Doesn’t just have to be with his partner, has fallen asleep on FT with Denki countless times.

Smells like sandalwood and eucalyptus.

Gives guys fist bumps and girls high fives.

Makes silly faces at kids at the grocery store.

I’m currently rewatching the show so I may do another post or other characters.

[mythalism]

finding out saburo is a ww2 veteran actually changed my life bc its like saburo and johnny and yorinobu and hanako and v and the trauma of war leading to cycles of violence and exploitation on the macro scale of military exploitation of soldiers turned into tools for state/corporate imperialism reflected in the microcosm of family dynamics and patricide and fratricide but also even smaller scale in taking over someone's brain and body as your own its corporate colonialism its just another form of colonialism and now you're becoming the thing you sought to destroy and being used as a tool for violence against your will and it happened to you first and now you're perpetuating it you are becoming the violence you can try taking ownership of it as a way to exert control over the horrible things they did to you but it doesnt make a difference im on stage and almost can’t breathe im so full of hatred and then I let it all out into a mic and i realize it didn’t help and i am what you made me filth teaches filth and the metaphor for how the military uses and discards people as cannon fodder the way saburo uses his son the way johnny is forced to use v the war took the same limb from them the cycle of violence is inevitable and even if you are cognizant of it you cannot stop it no one is above it no matter your wealth or status or fame all you can do is your best to fight it and your fight matters the principle matters even if you can never win never stop fighting, v

[adelheidvonschicksal]

KNY Vongola crew x Yor-like Fem Reader platonic! S/O is pretty much the only Varia member who’s not hostile towards Tsuna and his friends, even genuinely being nice and welcoming to them. I think Tsuna as a boss would be a bit relief if there was at least one Varia member who’s cooperative.

Tsuna Sawada

You’re his favorite member of Varia. Though, that isn’t hard to be considering how the other members of your team are—loud, angry, downright scary.

He feels much more comfortable when you’re in the room. Tsuna knows at the end of the day, Xanxus is the one in charge of your faction of the family, and he needs to learn to deal with the violent man but it’s so much easier for him to ask you to do that for him, often leading to Reborn telling him to man up about the situation.

He prefers your methods of teaching others. You’re usually so patient, so he’s even more surprised about how strong you actually are—he doesn’t know why. He guess it’s because of your sweet nature, but then he remembers that you’re a cloud guardian—like Hibari—then it becomes more obvious that he should’ve realized how strong you were beforehand.

Hayato Gokudera

He doesn’t trust you. Go figure. He doesn’t really trust anyone in Varia further than he can throw them after the entire Ring Battle incident.

Even if you came after that incident, it’s still hard to trust you. It isn’t until you help the family in the future that he comes to have some level of respect for you.

Too bad your cooking is only better than his sister’s. You might trigger his PTSD when you offer him something to eat.

Takeshi Yamamoto

You two get along great! He’s one of the members you’re more familiar with since he was training with Captain Squalo for so long.

Takeshi likes you too, and he’s the first to vouch for you when it comes to interacting with the family.

He also tries to teach you how to cook. Luckily, sushi is one of the few things you learn how to make because it doesn’t require a stove much.

He’s definitely called you Mom by accident at least once.

Ryohei Sasagawa

Like Gokudera, he’s a bit wary of you at first but quickly warms up to your sunny nature.

Loves your cooking because it fits all his macros as a boxer. He also likes to spare hand-to-hand with you when given the chance.

He’s willing to help you with a lot of things, and he’s usually very polite to you because you remind him of his younger sister.

Overall, he has faith in your abilities when it comes to being on the battle field with you.

Hibari Kyoya

He didn’t show much interest in you at first. At least until he learns from Dino that you’re the new Cloud Guardian for the Varia. Then, he’s much more interested.

The giant machine they had masquerading as a Cloud Guardian didn’t provide entertainment for him, so he’s curious to how strong you are. To put it mildly, he wants to fight you any and every chance he gets.

He’s impressed at first that you manage to last much longer than the Gola Moska; and the next thing you know, you’re in some sort of rivalry with the other Vongola Cloud Guardian.

You don’t mind though because it’s fun to get your energy out with him, and he kind of reminds you of yourself as a spunky kid. And frankly, Dino thinks you might be just as crazy as his student is under the sweet nature. At least it stops the Bucking Horse from getting attacked instead.

Chrome Dokuro

She feels comfortable around you as another female member of the family. You’re also sweet spoken and protective of her so she feels like your family.

You do sweet things for her, like helping her with her hair, or giving her fighting advice.

However, she can still be a bit shy sometimes due to your affiliation with Varia but she does appreciate you.

Mukuro Rokudo

Unfortunately, he doesn’t carry much opinion of you.

He’s curious to the degree that he’s curious about all things, but he hasn’t marked you as someone of special interest. You’re strong but so are a lot of people.

However, he does appreciate that you’re kind to Chrome, so he has a decent relationship with you when it comes to his vessel.

Lambo

Since he’s still a little kid, it’s easy for him to adore getting your attention and having you take care of him. He feels much safer when you’re carrying him.

However, when you fight, you scare him very easily to the point he’s scampering away from you, and you have to work to get back on his good side and to remind him that you’d never hurt him like you would the enemy.

It takes time for you to learn how to get really small kids to like you, especially after feeding him some not-so-good food on accident. It’s a work in progress.

[wendigoruble]

Father Figure Franco HCs/AU Thing? 🍼

[Inspired by @skeletons-and-roses ]

To preface these HCs I just wanna say I don't think Franco would ever wanna be a father, I don't think he'd be a good one. I just like to entertain the idea!

Franco somehow managed to knock up one of the working girls, and come 6-7 years later, she dumps little Marco on him.

Marco is a quiet kid who's mostly independent and barely ever takes his pacifier out of his mouth. This causes him to have an overjet bite. He also carries around a stuffed bear everywhere. He does pretty much everything for himself, from cooking simple food to household chores like cleaning.

He was also born with an enlarged skull but he does not develop hydrocephalus like Franco does. He just has a big head and slightly bugged out eyes.

Franco is very not happy that he now has a child in his care, and he tries multiple times to get random women to take him, but they won't.

While Franco allows this kid to exist in his house, he doesn't exactly do much in the way of being a father. He sees that Marco is rather independent and decides he doesn't need to do much.

Franco will occasionally drop little lines to Marco. Things like "You gotta get thick skin" or "You ain't no different from me." It's his way of trying to offer support even though these things don't exactly land right all the time.

He also gets excited if Macro shows interest in his work. He'll sit the kid down and tell him stories of all the people he's taken out, maybe teach him about the proper way to shoot. But he will not touch lupara. No one touches that gun but Franco himself.

He would buy Marco his own gun when he comes of age though, but that's way down the line.

Franco would also teach Marco about drugs, grading them and selling them. Also transporting them and alike. He was exposed to all of these things as a child so he sees nothing wrong with informing Marco on them. He does tell him not to sample too much product.

[Marco will never do drugs or drink because of the way he sees Franco act]

In a way hes better than Sal, but not by much at all. He's pretty absent, mostly aloof, but he doesn't inflict any physical violence at all. Maybe the occasional yelling, but that's it.

Sure he never wanted this kid, but the kids a Barbi and Franco will protect his own.

[edenspoem]

Ellie trying to teach kiddo how to play guitar for the first time..♡♡

YES YES YES ok so obviously, context preluding, we're (voices in my head) thinking older kid. seven maybe? around there. ♡

"kay' so, press here.. and your middle here— andd.." the delicacy of her long digits shrouded over a pair of stubby ones, pinching and plucking them to particular spots along a column, "there— go ahead n' strum."

ellie was dead set determined on teaching the mastered art of acoustic guitar to your kid. like— earthbent on it. a promise spoken to soil and vicariously explored through you, and now your sweet baby. your little–more–than–a–babbler, little–less–than–a–tween now sat atop you and ellie's shared bed, just between the hurl and crease of blankets bedraggled, and with a bay oaken apparatus as big as them sloped in their lap— the one joel bestowed. and you always idled as a bystander, watching, leaning on that jutted doorframe.

their blunt fingertips pecked the chords in a row, the lovely resonance lighting something in the white of your child's eyes, "woahh, that sounded like how you play it.." they awed, their jupiter-like eyes darting up to hers for a token of validation— 'did i do it right mom?'

a token she gave, pearl teeth revealing under the fat stretch of her coral lips, "yeah buddy, cus' you're a natural." oh my goddess, the enthusiasm cracking in her voice. ahh, swoon.

"yes.." they exclaim quietly, their forearm perched on the guitars waist pulling back and jubilating with a backwards fist pump. just like mom.

'picturesque, beyond camaraderie', you deemed the whole diorama before you; streaky mix of light and gray–blue shade over their features, faces that proclaim content, the narrow sliver separating their knees, matching criss–cross apple sauce positions, the oval crater both their weights burdened in the mattress, the macro view. 'heartwarming, entangling endearment', if you cherry–pick the easily neglected traits; synchronized cocks of their heads whenever a strum rings, fiddly tapping of her fingers on their tucked shin and how it lowers into a full grasp when she expresses avidly how proud she is, thumbprint–sized dimples mirrored on both margins of their mouth, and funnily— the mismatched socks on hers and their feet. one a pattern of dinosaurs, one a spangle of stars. in gospel truth, they are a likeness of the same flesh and bone, indistinguishable. undeterred by the genetics, the same person.

"keep it up n' maybe we can start a band together." ellie proposes, clear as spring bloom to be an fun promise, nothing sworn, but the idea swirls their young mind a kernel of imagined prospect. she and they upon a stage, grandpa in the crowd, his smile tender in wrinkles boosting morale among the many elated face.

"really?" and he sounds so filled of that idea, eyes popping from their hold.

"mhm," she untucks her own feet and sprawls them, stooping her torso straight and lightly booping them on the nose, a golden orb so happy left under that gesture, "only if you pick a cool name." and weighing her elbow into her thigh, head laying and perched.

"oh, i'll pick a better name than you can."

and suddenly her head is perking back up, "what's that spose' t'mean?" 'offended.

"you tried to name mr. snuggles 'bootyhole bandit'!"

"ey' you can't say that word!" she grimaces fakely atop a curling lip and squints her thick auburn worms, positioning balled fists on her hips like a distressed mother. so esentially just mimicry of you. oh, how ellie cackled buffoonish along with your kid on any occasion you held a scold to their faces, pointer at their noses.

"pbbhhhh." their tongue peeks out and a known all-too-well blowing sound grates the air, only to be tackled by your lanky-limbed girl, guitar discarded to the sloven pillows far opposite of you.

this shall be an anecdote, unforgettable. "hmph, dorks."

have I worsened your domestic!ellie fever yet?

[evilsoup]

Nearly 20 years ago I did an "ICT" GCSE (uk qualification at age 16) which was basically how to use microsoft word and so on; it was only semi-useful, but could be made better if the curriculum was built around like encouraging students to understand the computer as a human-made thing that is under their control. Teach the distinction between plain text and rich text, demonstrate multiple different software suites to achieve the same or similar ends. Microsoft word and libreoffice and a normal plain text editor (teaching the standard text manipulation shortcuts, ctrl+right-arrow to go to the next word etc) and vim and something like pandoc. Get the kids thinking about using keyboard shortcuts, and in terms of macros. A little bit of shell scripting -- just basics, variables and for loops and wildcards. Admin work power user training, basically.

[crimson-and-clover-1717]

Mother Teach, Ed, and Self-Determination CW: Emotive

I want to explore Ed’s mother in the red silk flashback, and its lasting impact on Ed.

Mother Teach begins with the imperative, ‘Feel it, boy’. There seems to be a certain lesson in showing Ed the thing he cannot have, before explaining the rich folk she works for own many items of this quality; so matter of fact as if it’s nature’s law.

When Ed asks in innocence the question, ‘Why can’t we have things like this?’ Mother Teach comes up against an alternate line of thinking which she seems never to have considered. She blinks in what could be surprise before giving what appears to be an obvious answer: ‘It’s up to God. He decides who gets what’. This establishes the idea that life is ‘not up to us’, but controlled by an external locus: God, providence, fate… ‘He decides’.

Mother Teach is conditioned to believe in determinism, and who can blame her. Her life is decided for her. What hope of agency for a poor, indigenous woman in a world run by a rich, white patriarchy? And it’s easier to attribute the decision to God, His unfathomable will. God is also likely and conveniently a rich, white man, so the issues blur somewhat in who is actually doing ‘the determining’; but frankly, the outcome is the same. It is safe to say God isn’t a poor, brown woman.

Ed carries this belief into his future life, struggling with agency, succumbing easily to manipulation; not having beautiful things despite acquiring riches, and giving up quickly in the face of setbacks. The second part of Mother Teach’s explanation, ‘We’re just not those kind of people’ further reinforces Ed’s class and race inferiority, which again he carries painfully into adulthood. These words are spoken with some emotion. We hear the shake in her voice as she acknowledges certain truths about the limitations of their existence.

The impact of his father on Ed’s psyche is largely plain in the cycles of abuse with older white men, but the transmission of generational trauma via Ed’s mother is also significant.

Mother Teach isn’t trying to be cruel. She clearly loves her son, and the silk is a love-token which she possibly took without permission so her child could have at least one chance to look upon and own a ‘beautiful thing’. But her own trauma means she further damages her son’s self-esteem during this interaction. She doesn’t want Ed to be a dreamer or believer in a better life. Best accept your lot, know your place, then you won’t be disappointed. There is a certain wisdom to it; and had she an average son with a dullish mind, it’s probably sound advice in this particular time and place.

But her son isn’t ordinary. He is a genius, an empath, a creative, as well as prone to overthinking and melancholy. His race foremost, and class also, are against him, and that is outside of his control; but everything else is up for grabs with someone as brilliant as Ed if he can find inner worth. He might always have to live within a subculture to find both success and happiness, but he may have done so sooner with a stronger internal locus of control, and belief in his own worth and agency, had he received a different message in childhood.

As it is, he lives a life in the shadows, emulating and enhancing further the toxic masculinity revered in the dominant culture which is so against his true nature. He uses his genius for strategy and theatre to enrich himself for protection and subsistence only, never going beyond and allowing luxury or beauty; and when finally world-weary and screaming for change, finds himself trapped by the ghosts of his childhood, some of whom are reshaped into new human forms.

One of many things which saddens me regarding Ed’s sacrifice in killing his father as an act of protecting his mother is I don’t feel it changed anything much. It was a micro action against a macro problem. If Ed possibly then ran away, his mother would’ve had to do what she always did: find another male protector, possibly a white man to enable a certain social standing, and she would likely be back within a similarly psychological and physically abusive situation. It isn’t inevitable this would happen to a woman in her situation, but it’s the most likely outcome because her choices are so limited. And that’s hugely tragic for both herself and Ed.

It’s often said for Ed, there’s a psychological affinity between Stede and Mother Teach. The rich, white man who is kind and optimistic is everything Ed’s mother could’ve been with those same sociological advantages. Stede is able to self-determine. He is a repressed gay man in a heteronormative society, but much of the world is built with his empowerment in mind, and he is able to take full advantage of that and change his path. Both Stede and Mother Teach love or loved Ed, and in an unequal world, one of them at least is able to model a different way of living; help push open the psychological door enough to allow Ed himself to begin to change his stars, and self-actualise as the person he truly is.

Writing this made me sob…I’m sorry if it does the same for you reading it