#poorish

[ciaomarie]

This scene breaks my heart. Then the following scene where John Thornton cries on his mother's lap....I wanna destroy Miss Hale and help him forget she ever existed!!!!

Mrs. Thornton is right!! That girl is stupid! Who cares if you have colder northern ways, don't simper like a prissy swan and flogged a man! He deserved it!!

[unsoundedcomic]

From what I've seen in your QnAs-- it seems like you kinda re-engineered the environment of Alderode from Duane himself. I was wondering how the people in that setting, like Will, Lem, Leysa, Miki and others came about. Were you reusing old concepts from your roleplaying days? Or did the characters start to take form as you fleshed out the setting?

Many of the Aldish characters and particularly the Adeliers were born in a short novel called "Rose Garden" that I wrote years and years ago. Living Duane and his (very different) brother investigated some corruption at the Temple, and got wrapped up in some hijinks.

Still other characters and ideas came from another novel called Tanners, which also took place in Durlyne, Alderode. Bastion and his family were fleshed out in a long story called Morningmont, which took place in rural Winalils. I've been playing with Alderode most of my life, I suppose.

Many of these guys got used and developed in different ways in RP, including the Argentis - though they were the Robinsons, then. William Robinson Sr was a major foil in our games, and teenage Will Robinson was a heart throb~

The more supernatural elements like the Dammakhert and the castes came later with Unsounded, and also were a result of being in Kasslyne, with its bizarre cosmology. The Adeliers were always poorish so it was natural to think of them as part of an ethnic underclass. Much sprang from this, and it resulted in some really good conflict, as I'd modestly say we've seen.

I don't think one can - or rather, that one should - develop setting and characters separately. Setting informs character. We largely are who we are because of where we were born and to whom we were born. As a result of this, one can use a very firmly realised character to reverse engineer their background, but if you make major setting tweaks, you're probably going to have to tweak the characters too. Duane's original brother was a whole different character that did not work in Kasslyne, so he got the axe. Lemuel is an Unsounded exclusive. The Foi-Hellick Affair, the civil strife, the Soud bigotry all inform his motivations and have shaped how he's grown into a man. Duane always had other factors - his pymary gifts, his religious conviction, his family. His brother was an environmental sponge, soaking up the state of the world and giving it a face.

[regina-bithyniae]

Productivity and Inequality Thought Experiment

The year is 1900, and you are the Finance Minister of Argentea, a mid-sized country in the Americas. You care deeply about the standards of living of the poor. You can choose one of two economic growth paradigms:

Leave incomes of The Poor at their present $1000, and focus on economic growth. Incomes to increase at by 3% per year.

Intervene in the economy to heavily redistribute and protect working-class jobs. This will triple The Poors' incomes to $3000 immediately, but GDP growth will be slower, and only increase their incomes by 1% per year.

In both cases, growth is a normal variable with given mean and SD 3%. Which spherical cow do you choose?

Your Data Genius runs a simulation and you get the following:

Near-catchup at 40 years, permanent crossover from the high-growth regime around 50, and then it leaves the other in the dust.

---

Growth rate parameters and the value of redistribution are arbitrary, as is probability seed, but these are largely favorable to the redistribution case. Growth rates are low for a 1900s poorish country on some track of development, and probably high for one going on a redistribution spree.

The point of the exercise is that the long-run gap between different economic growth rates is massive, even for small rates. If you accept GDP/Capita as a dominant proxy for standards of living (which I do, and think everyone should), and value long-run human wellbeing, then mental effort and advocacy should go towards growth rate boosting policies rather than mere (*scoffs*) redistribution.

[dracula-dictionary]

Dracula Dictionary, August 1st - Addendum

"It be all fool-talk, lock, stock, and barrel; that's what it be, an' nowt else. These bans an' wafts an' boh-ghosts an' barguests an' bogles an' all anent them is only fit to set bairns an' dizzy women a-belderin'. They be nowt but air-blebs. They, an' all grims an' signs an' warnin's, be all invented by parsons an' illsome beuk-bodies an' railway touters to skeer an' scunner hafflin's, an' to get folks to do somethin' that they don't other incline to. It makes me ireful to think o' them. Why, it's them that, not content with printin' lies on paper an' preachin' them out of pulpits, does want to be cuttin' them on the tombstones. Look here all around you in what airt ye will; all them steans, holdin' up their heads as well as they can out of their pride, is acant—simply tumblin' down with the weight o' the lies wrote on them, 'Here lies the body' or 'Sacred to the memory' wrote on all of them, an' yet in nigh half of them there bean't no bodies at all; an' the memories of them bean't cared a pinch of snuff about, much less sacred. Lies all of them, nothin' but lies of one kind or another! My gog, but it'll be a quare scowderment at the Day of Judgment when they come tumblin' up in their death-sarks, all jouped together an' tryin' to drag their tombsteans with them to prove how good they was; some of them trimmlin' and ditherin', with their hands that dozzened an' slippy from lyin' in the sea that they can't even keep their grup o' them.":

It's nonsense, all of it; that's what it is and nothing else. These curses and spirits and ghosts and bogie-men and the the like are only fit to make children and dizzy women cry. They're nothing but illusions. They, and all the scary signs and warnings were invented by priests, and mean-spirited academics, and highwaymen to scare and confuse halfwits, and to get people to do things that they otherwise wouldn't have. It makes me angry to think about them. They're the ones who aren't happy just printing lies on paper and preaching them from their altars, so they have to cut them into tombstones as well. Look in whatever direction you want; all these stones trying to hold their heads up out of pride - they should all be falling over under the weight of the lies that are written on them. "Here lies the body" or "Sacred to the memory" written on all of them, even though half of them don't even have a body under them; and their memory is worth about as much a pinch of snuff, it's certainly not sacred to anyone. All of it is lies, nothing but lies one way or another! My god, it’ll be a strange pushing and shoving at the Day of Judgment when they come tumbling up here in their shrouds, all jumbled together and trying to drag their tombstones with them to prove how good they were in life; some of them will be trembling and frail, with their hands so numb and slippery from lying in the sea that they can't even keep their grip on them.

"Yabblins! There may be a poorish few not wrong, savin' where they make out the people too good; for there be folk that do think a balm-bowl be like the sea, if only it be their own. The whole thing be only lies. Now look you here; you come here a stranger, an' you see this kirk-garth." I nodded, for I thought it better to assent, though I did not quite understand his dialect. I knew it had something to do with the church. He went on: "And you consate that all these steans be aboon folk that be happed here, snod an' snog?" I assented again. "Then that be just where the lie comes in. Why, there be scores of these lay-beds that be toom as old Dun's 'bacca-box on Friday night." He nudged one of his companions, and they all laughed. "And my gog! how could they be otherwise? Look at that one, the aftest abaft the bier-bank: read it!":

Perhaps! A few of them might not be wrong, except for those parts where people are being praised too much; because there are people who mistake a chamber-pot for the sea, as long as it's their own. Now look here, you came here as a stranger and you see this churchyard. Do you believe that all these stones are standing above people that are burried here? That is where the lies start. Many of these graves are as empty as old Dun's tobacco box on a friday night. And my god, how else could it be? Look at that one, the first one behind the bench: read it!"

"Who brought him home, I wonder, to hap him here? Murdered off the coast of Andres! an' you consated his body lay under! Why, I could name ye a dozen whose bones lie in the Greenland seas above"—he pointed northwards—"or where the currents may have drifted them. There be the steans around ye. Ye can, with your young eyes, read the small-print of the lies from here. This Braithwaite Lowrey—I knew his father, lost in the Lively off Greenland in '20; or Andrew Woodhouse, drowned in the same seas in 1777; or John Paxton, drowned off Cape Farewell a year later; or old John Rawlings, whose grandfather sailed with me, drowned in the Gulf of Finland in '50. Do ye think that all these men will have to make a rush to Whitby when the trumpet sounds? I have me antherums aboot it! I tell ye that when they got here they'd be jommlin' an' jostlin' one another that way that it 'ud be like a fight up on the ice in the old days, when we'd be at one another from daylight to dark, an' tryin' to tie up our cuts by the light of the aurora borealis.":

Who brought him back home to burry him here, I wonder? Murdered off the coast of Andres! And you really believe his body is buried here! I could name a dozen people whose bones lie in the sea of Greenland up north, or wherever the currents have taken them. Theirs are the headstones around us. With your young eyes you can read the lies from here. This Braithwaite Lowrey - I knew his father, used to serve on the Lively, lost off the coast of Greenland in 1820; or Andrew Woodhouse, drowned in the same seas in 1777; or John Paxton, drowned by Cape Farewell a year later; or old John Rawlings, whose grandfather sailed with me, drowned in the Gulf of Finland in 1850. Do you think all of them will be rushing back to Whitby when the trumpet sounds for Judgement Day? I have my doubts about it! If they did all come here they would pushing and shoving each other in such a way that it would look like one of the fights on the ice back in the old days, when we were at each other's throats from dawn to dusk, and trying to bandage our wound by the light of the aurora borealis.

"Well, what else be they tombstones for? Answer me that, miss! How will it pleasure their relatives to know that lies is wrote over them, and that everybody in the place knows that they be lies?" He pointed to a stone at our feet which had been laid down as a slab, on which the seat was rested, close to the edge of the cliff. "Read the lies on that thruff-stean":

Well, what else would the tombstones be for? Answer me that, miss! How would it please their relatives to know that there are lies written about them, and that everybody here knows that they're lies? Read the lies on that gravestone.

"Ye don't see aught funny! Ha! ha! But that's because ye don't gawm the sorrowin' mother was a hell-cat that hated him because he was acrewk'd—a regular lamiter he was—an' he hated her so that he committed suicide in order that she mightn't get an insurance she put on his life. He blew nigh the top of his head off with an old musket that they had for scarin' the crows with. 'Twarn't for crows then, for it brought the clegs and the dowps to him. That's the way he fell off the rocks. And, as to hopes of a glorious resurrection, I've often heard him say masel' that he hoped he'd go to hell, for his mother was so pious that she'd be sure to go to heaven, an' he didn't want to addle where she was. Now isn't that stean at any rate"—he hammered it with his stick as he spoke—"a pack of lies? and won't it make Gabriel keckle when Geordie comes pantin' up the grees with the tombstean balanced on his hump, and asks it to be took as evidence!":

You don't see anything funny! Ha ha! But that's because you don't know that the sorrowing mother was a malicious woman with a fierce temper who hated him because he was a cripple, and he hated her so he commited suicide so she wouldn't get any of his life insurance. He blew off the top of his head with an old musket they had for scaring off the crows. It didn't scare the crows off then, because it brought the flies and the crows to him. That's how he fell off the rocks. And as far as the hopes of a glorious resurrection go, I often heard him say myself that he hoped he'd go to hell, because his mother was so devout that she would definitely go to heaven, and he didn't want to end up where she was. Now isn't this gravestone a pack of lies? And won't it make the archangel Gabriel cackle when George comes hobbling up the stairway to heaven with the tombstone on his back and asks it to be taken as evidence!

"That won't harm ye, my pretty; an' it may make poor Geordie gladsome to have so trim a lass sittin' on his lap. That won't hurt ye. Why, I've sat here off an' on for nigh twenty years past, an' it hasn't done me no harm. Don't ye fash about them as lies under ye, or that doesn' lie there either! It'll be time for ye to be getting scart when ye see the tombsteans all run away with, and the place as bare as a stubble-field. There's the clock, an' I must gang. My service to ye, ladies!":

That won't harm you, my pretty; and it might make poor George happy to have such a fine girl sitting on his lap. That won't hurt you. I've been sitting here occasionally for almost the last twenty years, and it hasn't done me any harm. Don't worry about who lies under you, or who doesn't lie there! It will be time for you to get scared when you see all the gravestones run away and this place is as empty as a field after the harvest. That was the clock ringing, and I must be going. Nice talking to you, ladies!

[kathegoose]

what if.... the mimic could like,,. talk or something but not mimicking and being kinda original for once

(sorry for poorish image quality, needed to be quick!)

also a more finished version of the previous tired mimic doodle i did some night

*cartoon flop sound effect*

[anauro]

ooh i’m curious which povs did you switch? and why do you think it gave you such a big writer block?

I swapped Regulus for James.

It’s the exact same scene: them settling into the cottage Regulus rented, but for some reason it flows better if it’s James narrating.

I’m thinking part of it is probably my own poorish mental health and the fact I can relate to James more lol. Which is kinda sad cause this fic was supposed to be just Regulus, but then there was a scene I thought would look better as James and now we’re here.

Regulus will have his moment as well though, there’s a scene I’m fairly certain I can only write from his pov rather than James’

[wellthatwasaletdown]

"It’s well documented that managers of boy bands pick poorish, unhappy teens desperate to escape their life. // I don’t know that all boyband members were picked because they were unhappy. I think it’s more that the structure of the music establishment actively discriminates against people who aren’t at least middle class. The managers of boybands target young men wanting a music career who are structurally locked out of the music industry. They are young and naive and don’t realise how much control they will have to give up."

Not sure if many people know but L T actually had a very good upbringing (inspite of his parents divorce). He even went to some really good schools and had some early opportunites in the entertainment industry. Just thought I would mention that.

Like I said, I think it comes down to who was desperate enough for the fame.

[hwajin]

i have a new series planned so

[wordpimp]

never alive as that july when you were here in the bushes

Under the train tracks, at the bridge in dacula Where I grew up and never left Where they would say, you take the words decatur and atlanta and you put them together Bullshit

Ugly town, mainstreet america precursor, and fail A strip of squat square buildings and a traffic light (just one) Poorish, farmland and trees

Mama always had a trailer, sometimes a house, that was better I started jerking off when I was 13, or 12? It started in the woods, swinging from a long vine

That boy had a crush on me and I waited too long, years It would have been so easy to have him believe in me Let him love me

Broken nose, car crash, blood and underwear flying all over the cab, floating. Then time skidded out, lines blurred.

When I could wake up, I almost didn't I just thought about that and why

Things I would say to the anorexic girl at duke hospital. This latin's not only depressing, it's the rest of your life. I wonder if that's what she eats. Or has she moved on from it, does she know I was kidding?

When you grow up with a telephone, first it has a cord and you have to dial it Then it has buttons but still a cord Then it's all in your hands, for a certain distance Then it's forever

I'm happy that I made it

There is something I need to tell you, and very soon

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

9.19.24 Thursday-crime hoping for crimeless!

7:07 am

Still,have windblow...

I need to process my card today in Teleperformance... I need to process my BPI card this time ans hoping for a success... I need to maintain a job coz I have so many creditz that I need to pay like on Tala and Ely.... I will go to Imus in a lil while...

12:39 noon

Still,have windblow...

Thank God! I'm not a bad person! I deserve this blessing and more to come...

I wanna travel and my expenses for John....Oh! GOD ALMIGHTY THANK GOD!

I need to pay my creditz...

1:45 pm

Still, have windblow...

It was a bit funny coz I went first to Imus Anabu then I saw the picture that was sent by Ms Sasa the image of Imus District BPI along Emilio Aguinaldo Highway... Then, I went out from Anabu branch... I didn't know that she is reffering to BPI inside the actual District mall...

I accidentaly talked to Melvin and other girl and I just asked a candy coz my GERD is attacking me again around quarter to 11 am... But they don't have candies... Whew!!! I need to control and bear the pain inside my tummy...They are both on Healthcare account,from 2 to 10 pm, I guess....

I really do have self-pity... I'm supposed to be one of the nicely spoiled daughter but life has its own ups and downs... Like what I said I feel somehow jealous on people who are working in call center and driving a car given by thier parent's, coz someone told me that they are in a way the priority and I totally agree....

I totally agree and bow down to the spoiled daughter's and son's coz I used to be nicely spoiled or pampered that I was able to buy stuff before... I totally agree that they should be on a priority in a way but I hope they can balance their yin-yang... I know some spoiled or a truly elite mostly are genuienly nice but some are provoked to kill coz there are so many mean kids or bad hearts on the lower bracket which I'm on that level now... It is hard coz the people here in the lower bracket are mean people but I have new found friends that I know I should set a good example that life should respect other life...

Like in UP, even if you are the most intelligent then coming from poorish state, a lot will hate you on the upper coz that intelligent will compete unfairly the upper....Gets?

The lower is sometimes really unfair coz they wanted to prove their intelligence, sometimes they act unfairly on people coming from the middle-class or higher...

That's why if you are super intelligent but having bad attitude or weird point of view, the upper will wipe you out...

Coz for example you are a doctor but you are not spoiled but you keep on believeing on yourself that what you are doing to some people are correct or probably giving some a weird situation that you angle them on that route... But you are just poorish I mean you became a doctor coz of your strive hard of thrift, cheapness way of living... It is somehow difficult to go up... In UP even in UST these kinds of shallow-minded doctors are being killed by aristocrats. It is still matter or a big deal where you came from....What was your process, thrift and cheap or spoiled and spending... Still,matter...

Call center is somehow a still a "status quo"...

But in BPI awhile ago the employee there were matured... I can really tell... It depends on the "freewill"...

I saw some immature again on the line outside... 3 OR 4 girls again... They are not aristocratz I'm not gonna talk to them,unless the situation will allow us to be friends but saying hi to them that they look crazy, I'm gonna ignore them...I'm not gonna dwell on mean lower people!

Still, a "status quo"...

4:12 pm

Still,have windblow...

I figure out my insurance probably made by Manalo's or any traitor members of "Church Of Christ"...

9:27 pm

Still,have windblow...

There is a dress code by Monday... I always wanted to be "clueless" where all of her wardrobes are in the computer... But now I have major complex... We should wear "Smart Casual"... Whew!

I love clothes angels... I love "dressing-up" that's why I wanted vanity... Let's just play around and wear what we can... Enjoy life,right angels?!! Though, I'm so broke...

I miss buying stuff, I'm having self-pity...

9:37 pm

Still, have windblow...

Wearing "chaleco" is a smart casual...

Smart Casual... Not comfortable anymore...

My medrep days....

Can I be Carrie of Big Daddy,here???

Until here for now... No longer comfortable... My younger clothes...

Dieting for my cousin white???

Yeah!

10:45 pm

Still,have windblow...

They don't like me here for 17 years... I will just "BLAZE" here...Self-pity modeling...

My California thing... Bitterish...

[triviareads]

Who are your favorite dilfs in romance books?

Tremont from M is for Marquess by Grace Callaway: He's a widower with a son Thea saves from getting kidnapped by his governess; Tremont's also been obsessed with Thea since he met her but is *too afraid* to act on his feelings because he's *depraved* and Thea's *so innocent*. Spoiler alert: she isn't and she isn't going to let her poorish health and asthma stop her from being with this man; there's a light M/s dynamic, and it's also very reminiscent of Win and Kev from Seduce Me At Sunrise by Lisa Kleypas.

Max from My Dirty Duke by Joanna Shupe: Max is Violet’s ne'er-do-well dad’s equally slutty friend; He’s 41 and has a teenage son and she’s 18 and he’s been frantically avoiding her since the start of her season until she corners him by pretending to be his paramour. She’s also very into photography and ye olde nudes are taken (front AND back).

Haddon from Wicked Again by Kathleen Ayers: Haddon is 40 and has a teenage daughter and Marissa is 49 with three(?) grown sons. He seduces her at a house party (in the beginning of the book!) and wants more but Marissa is busy enacting revenge plots against the family that killed her husband. He attempts to get close again by asking her to help him with his daughter's debut, but ultimately what does the trick is him dicking her down multiple times while telling her "we're MORE than a fling".

Sinclair from Rules for a Proper Governess by Jennifer Ashley: Sinclair McBride aka BASHER MCBRIDE is a BLOND widowed barrister who hires the gal who tries to pickpocket him as his children's governess because she has a way with them. Bertie is super fascinated with him and actually kinda stalks him (which is how she gets the job lol) and there's this really funny part where she's suuuuper jealous of his widowed lady friend and freaks out on him, only for it to end with him SUCKING THREE OF HER FINGERS IN HER MOUTH. Insanely hot, v unexpected.

Simon from The Secret She Kept in Bollywood by Tara Pammi: Suuuuch a dilf, I mean really, who else could successfully calm a random woman having a panic attack on the floor, and then tenderly make love to her like 10 seconds later in such a smooth transition? Simon is also the adoptive father of Anya's biological daughter who she had as a teenager and gave up, not that either of them know that when they hook up.

Enzo from Mafia Madman by Mila Finelli: okay but for all his insanity and propensity to lock Gia up in his yacht cage, Enzo is actually a good dad who's really cut up about having to be separated from his kids for their own safety; there's this really interesting bit where he's telling Gia about teaching his daughter how to ride a two-wheeler and Gia's sadly thinking about how her dad never taught her :( and that's a peak dilf/dad/daddy moment for me.

Here are some that are specifically ex's dad (so totally dilfs) books:

[somedaytakethetime]

Me, when I have secured the match footage but it's of poorish quality and I also don't really feel like watching it without anything to do so I have to find something to knit while I watch it:

[ohimesama]

2.12.23 Sunday

6:32 am

Good Morning Angels....Still have this windblow trap cult of Manaloz?!!!

"Karma begets karma" " Do good things and people will remember you"

I wrote it at the back of diary of Mommy Adnil... And there is also a saying about happiness, the thought is do job that makes you happy...

8:15 am

I remember someone an old friend and I hope he can still remember me...After 30 years... I still wanna leave the hometown and thinking of money...

I hope he kept my letters and everything... Now,I'm better...

How, I wish to see Mitch and only if I can turn back the time...

But you Daniel, I hope we can meet up soon even as good friends or group now that I needed your hands...

9:57 am

Done,watching... Loving Pamela... I think she is a homecoming queen but spotted...

10:58 am

My moment ... This is my moment...

Wow! Yummy... My moment... Simple but elegant ;)

My yummy patah ;)

12:27 noon

My final white fish & veggies...

1:43 pm

I feel bitter and I still feel ugly and fat and I'm thinking of money angels... I feel really ugly and I'm not fixing at all...

I wanna leave the hometown... I wanna buy starbucks everyday... I feel so ugly here in Cavite, I can't find my old bf's and some group stole my bf's and I can't meet new upper bf's who are willing to help me fly...

Later, will attend the party of my niece Cassie, I think she is my 2nd favorite after Phem2x...

Will be wearing something like a kiddoe outfit the disadvantage of being poorish..

3:05 pm

Weird feeling...I feel lazy but I will attend the party of my niece Cassie in Mc Donulds....Weird... Coz it is nearly summer...

4:09 pm

Someone stole my key room again... It feels like unlucky day...

4:11 pm

I saw it on the floor....

4:46 pm

My brother

My sister in law and my sister at the back..

With mother of Janna, Tita Joanna...

7:24 pm

The party is over.... It was kinda weird for a 7 year old celebrant, to have a 7 roses, 7 lollipops, 7 candles...

I was really shocked when I heard my name that I was one of her godmother... I just wished her a good fate, be a good girl, have a good heart, be religious and be pretty like me...

7:34 pm

My personal case:

I still have this self-pity and still wanna leave the hometown...

I feel fat and super ugly... I hate seeing skinny women... I don't feel the gang of George anymore, I was just decent there... His youngest daughter is skinnier than me, I don't like her... I sensed a demonic group on George.... I sensed a cult on George.... They are successful and I can't go up...

They need to eat skinny people... I'm still thinking of money and I'm thinking of better chances in life....

9:12 pm

I still have the windblow trap... I feel self-pity... I can't see my old bf's, I need a lift these days... I can't see JP, I need a lift for old time sake... I can't meet new upper men's friends, I need a lift...

To be continued....

[thanat0sis]

making horrible creations as we speak 

[shy-petty-weirdo]

hearing your parents gossip about you to each other is weird

what's even weirder is when they come to the conclusion that you, one of the only kids to graduate, not be involved in any teen pregnancy, or get any addiction, is the rebellious bad kid

I just...jeez

please go back to ignoring my existence please

[trainwreckweather]

.