#semantic matching

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Google’s enshittification memos

[Note, 9 October 2023: Google disputes the veracity of this claim, but has declined to provide the exhibits and testimony to support its claims. Read more about this here.]

When I think about how the old, good internet turned into the enshitternet, I imagine a series of small compromises, each seemingly reasonable at the time, each contributing to a cultural norm of making good things worse, and worse, and worse.

Think about Unity President Marc Whitten's nonpology for his company's disastrous rug-pull, in which they declared that everyone who had paid good money to use their tool to make a game would have to keep paying, every time someone downloaded that game:

The most fundamental thing that we’re trying to do is we’re building a sustainable business for Unity. And for us, that means that we do need to have a model that includes some sort of balancing change, including shared success.

https://www.wired.com/story/unity-walks-back-policies-lost-trust/

"Shared success" is code for, "If you use our tool to make money, we should make money too." This is bullshit. It's like saying, "We just want to find a way to share the success of the painters who use our brushes, so every time you sell a painting, we want to tax that sale." Or "Every time you sell a house, the company that made the hammer gets to wet its beak."

And note that they're not talking about shared risk here – no one at Unity is saying, "If you try to make a game with our tools and you lose a million bucks, we're on the hook for ten percent of your losses." This isn't partnership, it's extortion.

How did a company like Unity – which became a market leader by making a tool that understood the needs of game developers and filled them – turn into a protection racket? One bad decision at a time. One rationalization and then another. Slowly, and then all at once.

When I think about this enshittification curve, I often think of Google, a company that had its users' backs for years, which created a genuinely innovative search engine that worked so well it seemed like *magic, a company whose employees often had their pick of jobs, but chose the "don't be evil" gig because that mattered to them.

People make fun of that "don't be evil" motto, but if your key employees took the gig because they didn't want to be evil, and then you ask them to be evil, they might just quit. Hell, they might make a stink on the way out the door, too:

https://theintercept.com/2018/09/13/google-china-search-engine-employee-resigns/

Google is a company whose founders started out by publishing a scientific paper describing their search methodology, in which they said, "Oh, and by the way, ads will inevitably turn your search engine into a pile of shit, so we're gonna stay the fuck away from them":

http://infolab.stanford.edu/pub/papers/google.pdf

Those same founders retained a controlling interest in the company after it went IPO, explaining to investors that they were going to run the business without having their elbows jostled by shortsighted Wall Street assholes, so they could keep it from turning into a pile of shit:

https://abc.xyz/investor/founders-letters/ipo-letter/

And yet, it's turned into a pile of shit. Google search is so bad you might as well ask Jeeves. The company's big plan to fix it? Replace links to webpages with florid paragraphs of chatbot nonsense filled with a supremely confident lies:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/14/googles-ai-hype-circle/

How did the company get this bad? In part, this is the "curse of bigness." The company can't grow by attracting new users. When you have 90%+ of the market, there are no new customers to sign up. Hypothetically, they could grow by going into new lines of business, but Google is incapable of making a successful product in-house and also kills most of the products it buys from other, more innovative companies:

https://killedbygoogle.com/

Theoretically, the company could pursue new lines of business in-house, and indeed, the current leaders of companies like Amazon, Microsoft and Apple are all execs who figured out how to get the whole company to do something new, and were elevated to the CEO's office, making each one a billionaire and sealing their place in history.

It is for this very reason that any exec at a large firm who tries to make a business-wide improvement gets immediately and repeatedly knifed by all their colleagues, who correctly reason that if someone else becomes CEO, then they won't become CEO. Machiavelli was an optimist:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/microincentives-and-enshittification/

With no growth from new customers, and no growth from new businesses, "growth" has to come from squeezing workers (say, laying off 12,000 engineers after a stock buyback that would have paid their salaries for the next 27 years), or business customers (say, by colluding with Facebook to rig the ad market with the Jedi Blue conspiracy), or end-users.

Now, in theory, we might never know exactly what led to the enshittification of Google. In theory, all of compromises, debates and plots could be lost to history. But tech is not an oral culture, it's a written one, and techies write everything down and nothing is ever truly deleted.

Time and again, Big Tech tells on itself. Think of FTX's main conspirators all hanging out in a group chat called "Wirefraud." Amazon naming its program targeting weak, small publishers the "Gazelle Project" ("approach these small publishers the way a cheetah would pursue a sickly gazelle”). Amazon documenting the fact that users were unknowingly signing up for Prime and getting pissed; then figuring out how to reduce accidental signups, then deciding not to do it because it liked the money too much. Think of Zuck emailing his CFO in the middle of the night to defend his outsized offer to buy Instagram on the basis that users like Insta better and Facebook couldn't compete with them on quality.

It's like every Big Tech schemer has a folder on their desktop called "Mens Rea" filled with files like "Copy_of_Premeditated_Murder.docx":

https://doctorow.medium.com/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself-f7f0eb6d215a?sk=351f8a54ab8e02d7340620e5eec5024d

Right now, Google's on trial for its sins against antitrust law. It's a hard case to make. To secure a win, the prosecutors at the DoJ Antitrust Division are going to have to prove what was going on in Google execs' minds when the took the actions that led to the company's dominance. They're going to have to show that the company deliberately undertook to harm its users and customers.

Of course, it helps that Google put it all in writing.

Last week, there was a huge kerfuffile over the DoJ's practice of posting its exhibits from the trial to a website each night. This is a totally normal thing to do – a practice that dates back to the Microsoft antitrust trial. But Google pitched a tantrum over this and said that the docs the DoJ were posting would be turned into "clickbait." Which is another way of saying, "the public would find these documents very interesting, and they would be damning to us and our case":

https://www.bigtechontrial.com/p/secrecy-is-systemic

After initially deferring to Google, Judge Amit Mehta finally gave the Justice Department the greenlight to post the document. It's up. It's wild:

https://www.justice.gov/d9/2023-09/416692.pdf

The document is described as "notes for a course on communication" that Google VP for Finance Michael Roszak prepared. Roszak says he can't remember whether he ever gave the presentation, but insists that the remit for the course required him to tell students "things I didn't believe," and that's why the document is "full of hyperbole and exaggeration."

OK.

But here's what the document says: "search advertising is one of the world's greatest business models ever created…illicit businesses (cigarettes or drugs) could rival these economics…[W]e can mostly ignore the demand side…(users and queries) and only focus on the supply side of advertisers, ad formats and sales."

It goes on to say that this might be changing, and proposes a way to balance the interests of the search and ads teams, which are at odds, with search worrying that ads are pushing them to produce "unnatural search experiences to chase revenue."

"Unnatural search experiences to chase revenue" is a thinly veiled euphemism for the prophetic warnings in that 1998 Pagerank paper: "The goals of the advertising business model do not always correspond to providing quality search to users." Or, more plainly, "ads will turn our search engine into a pile of shit."

And, as Roszak writes, Google is "able to ignore one of the fundamental laws of economics…supply and demand." That is, the company has become so dominant and cemented its position so thoroughly as the default search engine across every platforms and system that even if it makes its search terrible to goose revenues, users won't leave. As Lily Tomlin put it on SNL: "We don't have to care, we're the phone company."

In the enshittification cycle, companies first lure in users with surpluses – like providing the best search results rather than the most profitable ones – with an eye to locking them in. In Google's case, that lock-in has multiple facets, but the big one is spending billions of dollars – enough to buy a whole Twitter, every single year – to be the default search everywhere.

Google doesn't buy its way to dominance because it has the very best search results and it wants to shield you from inferior competitors. The economically rational case for buying default position is that preventing competition is more profitable than succeeding by outperforming competitors. The best reason to buy the default everywhere is that it lets you lower quality without losing business. You can "ignore the demand side, and only focus on advertisers."

For a lot of people, the analysis stops here. "If you're not paying for the product, you're the product." Google locks in users and sells them to advertisers, who are their co-conspirators in a scheme to screw the rest of us.

But that's not right. For one thing, paying for a product doesn't mean you won't be the product. Apple charges a thousand bucks for an iPhone and then nonconsensually spies on every iOS user in order to target ads to them (and lies about it):

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

John Deere charges six figures for its tractors, then runs a grift that blocks farmers from fixing their own machines, and then uses their control over repair to silence farmers who complain about it:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/31/dealers-choice/#be-a-shame-if-something-were-to-happen-to-it

Fair treatment from a corporation isn't a loyalty program that you earn by through sufficient spending. Companies that can sell you out, will sell you out, and then cry victim, insisting that they were only doing their fiduciary duty for their sacred shareholders. Companies are disciplined by fear of competition, regulation or – in the case of tech platforms – customers seizing the means of computation and installing ad-blockers, alternative clients, multiprotocol readers, etc:

https://doctorow.medium.com/an-audacious-plan-to-halt-the-internets-enshittification-and-throw-it-into-reverse-3cc01e7e4604?sk=85b3f5f7d051804521c3411711f0b554

Which is where the next stage of enshittification comes in: when the platform withdraws the surplus it had allocated to lure in – and then lock in – business customers (like advertisers) and reallocate it to the platform's shareholders.

For Google, there are several rackets that let it screw over advertisers as well as searchers (the advertisers are paying for the product, and they're also the product). Some of those rackets are well-known, like Jedi Blue, the market-rigging conspiracy that Google and Facebook colluded on:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jedi_Blue

But thanks to the antitrust trial, we're learning about more of these. Megan Gray – ex-FTC, ex-DuckDuckGo – was in the courtroom last week when evidence was presented on Google execs' panic over a decline in "ad generating searches" and the sleazy gimmick they came up with to address it: manipulating the "semantic matching" on user queries:

https://www.wired.com/story/google-antitrust-lawsuit-search-results/

When you send a query to Google, it expands that query with terms that are similar – for example, if you search on "Weds" it might also search for "Wednesday." In the slides shown in the Google trial, we learned about another kind of semantic matching that Google performed, this one intended to turn your search results into "a twisted shopping mall you can’t escape."

Here's how that worked: when you ran a query like "children's clothing," Google secretly appended the brand name of a kids' clothing manufacturer to the query. This, in turn, triggered a ton of ads – because rival brands will have bought ads against their competitors' name (like Pepsi buying ads that are shown over queries for Coke).

Here we see surpluses being taken away from both end-users and business customers – that is, searchers and advertisers. For searchers, it doesn't matter how much you refine your query, you're still going to get crummy search results because there's an unkillable, hidden search term stuck to your query, like a piece of shit that Google keeps sticking to the sole of your shoe.

But for advertisers, this is also a scam. They're paying to be matched to users who search on a brand name, and you didn't search on that brand name. It's especially bad for the company whose name has been appended to your search, because Google has a protection racket where the company that matches your search has to pay extra in order to show up overtop of rivals who are worse matches. Both the matching company and those rivals have given Google a credit-card that Google gets to bill every time a user searches on the company's name, and Google is just running fraudulent charges through those cards.

And, of course, Google put this in writing. I mean, of course they did. As we learned from the documentary The Incredibles, supervillains can't stop themselves from monologuing, and in big, sprawling monopolists, these monologues have to transmitted electronically – and often indelibly – to far-flung co-cabalists.

As Gray points out, this is an incredibly blunt enshittification technique: "it hadn’t even occurred to me that Google just flat out deletes queries and replaces them with ones that monetize better." We don't know how long Google did this for or how frequently this bait-and-switch was deployed.

But if this is a blunt way of Google smashing its fist down on the scales that balance search quality against ad revenues, there's plenty of subtler ways the company could sneak a thumb on there. A Google exec at the trial rhapsodized about his company's "contract with the user" to deliver an "honest results policy," but given how bad Google search is these days, we're left to either believe he's lying or that Google sucks at search.

The paper trail offers a tantalizing look at how a company went from doing something that was so good it felt like a magic trick to being "able to ignore one of the fundamental laws of economics…supply and demand," able to "ignore the demand side…(users and queries) and only focus on the supply side of advertisers."

What's more, this is a system where everyone loses (except for Google): this isn't a grift run by Google and advertisers on users – it's a grift Google runs on everyone.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/03/not-feeling-lucky/#fundamental-laws-of-economics

My next novel is The Lost Cause, a hopeful novel of the climate emergency. Amazon won't sell the audiobook, so I made my own and I'm pre-selling it on Kickstarter!

[braceletofteeth]

Love In The Air (1x02) || Semantic Error (1x02)

[kingofanemptyworld]

the soulmates au where Ichigo’s known his soulmate was dead from the moment he was born is no longer merely an idea because I have no self-control so here’s. this. for now.

[idanit]

tfw your native language doesn't differentiate between a valet and a butler... *shakes fist* let me be precise and correct!

[swingstep]

could you maybe make refs for your swap au?

oh! i dont technically have Proper ones (and im always fidgeting with colors in some way or another skdjgns) but i do have colored refs of the crew on hand! the:

consider these pretty tentative (AND ALSO NOT TO SCALE these were two images i put next to each other), but its what im workin with for right now! might make proper ones...eventually. skdjgn

[pyromaniac-cyndaquil]

Just realized I made a mistake on my eos all starters mod post, bc I said all the non traditional starters aren't hero options but that's not actually true 😭 Pikachu, Eevee, Skitty, Riolu and Shinx are still options...

I've updated the post to reflect that now, but I'm thinking about how popular Vulpix is as a hero and wondering if I should swap one out 🤔

[yuinova]

Warning!

[carcinized]

I FINISHED WARRIOR NUN. I CAN REST. HOLY FUCK THAT WAS A GOOD SHOW

[bl-bam-beyond]

The Doppelganger Series

Obviously not an exact match. But there are similarities in these two actors.

This is Jae Chan.. He is a South Korean Singer, Songwriter, Composer, Rapper, Dancer & Actor known for being a member of boy band DKZ (formerly known as DONGKIZ) and his role as Chu Sang Woo in Semantic Error

This is Yoon Hyun Soo... He is a South Korean Actor that made his debut in 2021 series Racket Boys. Also known for KDramas Hope or Dope and it's sequel Hope or Dope 2.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How Google’s trial secrecy lets it control the coverage

I'm coming to Minneapolis! Oct 15: Presenting The Internet Con at Moon Palace Books. Oct 16: Keynoting the 26th ACM Conference On Computer-Supported Cooperative Work and Social Computing.

"Corporate crime" is practically an oxymoron in America. While it's true that the single most consequential and profligate theft in America is wage theft, its mechanisms are so obscure and, well, dull that it's easy to sell us on the false impression that the real problem is shoplifting:

https://newrepublic.com/post/175343/wage-theft-versus-shoplifting-crime

Corporate crime is often hidden behind Dana Clare's Shield Of Boringness, cloaked in euphemisms like "risk and compliance" or that old favorite, "white collar crime":

https://pluralistic.net/2021/12/07/solar-panel-for-a-sex-machine/#a-single-proposition

And corporate crime has a kind of performative complexity. The crimes come to us wreathed in specialized jargon and technical terminology that make them hard to discern. Which is wild, because corporate crimes occur on a scale that other crimes – even those committed by organized crime – can't hope to match:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/12/no-criminals-no-crimes/#get-out-of-jail-free-card

But anything that can't go on forever eventually stops. After decades of official tolerance (and even encouragement), corporate criminals are finally in the crosshairs of federal enforcers. Take National Labor Relations Board general counsel Jennifer Abruzzo's ruling in Cemex: when a company takes an illegal action to affect the outcome of a union election, the consequence is now automatic recognition of the union:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/06/goons-ginks-and-company-finks/#if-blood-be-the-price-of-your-cursed-wealth

That's a huge deal. Before, a boss could fire union organizers and intimidate workers, scuttle the union election, and then, months or years later, pay a fine and some back-wages…and the union would be smashed.

The scale of corporate crime is directly proportional to the scale of corporations themselves. Big companies aren't (necessarily) led by worse people, but even small sins committed by the very largest companies can affect millions of lives.

That's why antitrust is so key to fighting corporate crime. To make corporate crimes less harmful, we must keep companies from attaining harmful scale. Big companies aren't just too big to fail and too big to jail – they're also too big for peaceful coexistence with a society of laws.

The revival of antitrust enforcement is such a breath of fresh air, but it's also fighting headwinds. For one thing, there's 40 years of bad precedent from the nightmare years of pro-monopoly Reaganomics to overturn:

https://pluralistic.net/ApexPredator

It's not just precedents in the outcomes of trials, either. Trial procedure has also been remade to favor corporations, with judges helping companies stack the deck in their own favor. The biggest factor here is secrecy: blocking recording devices from courts, refusing to livestream the proceedings, allowing accused corporate criminals to clear the courtroom when their executives take the stand, and redacting or suppressing the exhibits:

https://prospect.org/power/2023-09-27-redacted-case-against-amazon/

When a corporation can hide evidence and testimony from the public and the press, it gains broad latitude to dispute critics, including government enforcers, based on evidence that no one is allowed to see, or, in many cases, even describe. Take Project Nessie, the program that the FTC claims Amazon used to compel third-party sellers to hike prices across many categories of goods:

https://www.wsj.com/business/retail/amazon-used-secret-project-nessie-algorithm-to-raise-prices-6c593706

Amazon told the press that the FTC has "grossly mischaracterize[d]" Project Nessie. The DoJ disagrees, but it can't say why, because the Project Nessie files it based its accusations on have been redacted, at Amazon's insistence. Rather than rebutting Amazon's claim, FTC spokesman Douglas Farrar could only say "We once again call on Amazon to move swiftly to remove the redactions and allow the American public to see the full scope of what we allege are their illegal monopolistic practices."

It's quite a devastating gambit: when critics and prosecutors make specific allegations about corporate crimes, the corporation gets to tell journalists, "No, that's wrong, but you're not allowed to see the reason we say it's wrong."

It's a way to work the refs, to get journalists – or their editors – to wreathe bold claims in endless hedging language, or to avoid reporting on the most shocking allegations altogether. This, in turn, keeps corporate trials out of the public eye, which reassures judges that they can defer to further corporate demands for opacity without facing an outcry.

That's a tactic that serves Google well. When the company was dragged into court by the DoJ Antitrust Division, it demanded – and received – a veil of secrecy that is especially ironic given the company's promise "to organize the world's information and make it universally accessible and useful":

https://usvgoogle.org/trial-update-9-22

While this veil has parted somewhat, it is still intact enough to allow the company to work the refs and kill disfavorable reporting from the trial. Last week, Megan Gray – ex-FTC, ex-DuckDuckGo – published an editorial in Wired reporting on her impression of an explosive moment in the Google trial:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/03/not-feeling-lucky/#fundamental-laws-of-economics

According to Gray, Google had run a program to mess with the "semantic matching" on queries, silently appending terms to users' searches that caused them to return more ads – and worse results. This generated more revenue for Google, at the expense of advertisers who got billed to serve ads that didn't even match user queries.

Google forcefully disputed this claim:

https://twitter.com/searchliaison/status/1709726778170786297

They contacted Gray's editors at Wired, but declined to release all the exhibits and testimony that Gray used to form her conclusions about Google's conduct; instead, they provided a subset of the relevant materials, which cast doubt on Gray's accusations.

Wired removed Gray's piece, with an unsigned notice that "WIRED editorial leadership has determined that the story does not meet our editorial standards. It has been removed":

https://www.wired.com/story/google-antitrust-lawsuit-search-results/

But Gray stands by her piece. She admits that she might have gotten some of the fine details wrong, but that these were not material to the overall point of her story, that Google manipulated search queries to serve more ads at the expense of the quality of the results:

https://twitter.com/megangrA/status/1711035354134794529

She says that the piece could and should have been amended to reflect these fine-grained corrections, but that in the absence of a full record of the testimony and exhibits, it was impossible for her to prove to her editors that her piece was substantively correct.

I reviewed the limited evidence that Google permitted to be released and I find her defense compelling. Perhaps you don't. But the only way we can factually resolve this dispute is for Google to release the materials that they claim will exonerate them. And they won't, though this is fully within their power.

I've seen this playbook before. During the early months of the pandemic, a billionaire who owned a notorious cyberwarfare company used UK libel threats to erase this fact from the internet – including my own reporting – on the grounds that the underlying research made small, non-material errors in characterizing a hellishly complex financial Rube Goldberg machine that was, in my opinion, deliberately designed to confuse investigators.

Like the corporate crimes revealed in the Panama Papers and Paradise Papers, the gambit is complicated, but it's not sophisticated:

Make everything as complicated as possible;

Make everything as secret as possible;

Dismiss any accusations by claiming errors in the account of the deliberately complex arrangements, which can't be rectified because the relevant materials are a secret.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/09/working-the-refs/#but-id-have-to-kill-you

My next novel is The Lost Cause, a hopeful novel of the climate emergency. Amazon won't sell the audiobook, so I made my own and I'm pre-selling it on Kickstarter!

Image: Jason Rosenberg (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/underpants/12069086054/

CC BY https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

--

Japanexperterna.se (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/japanexperterna/15251188384/

CC BY-SA 2.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

[sonic-vacation]

Sound Blur

The use of words that when repeated turn into other words, can be like match-cuts slowly blurring in transition. This is particularly interesting when it comes to words that link for meaning, and are from similar families, but in different regions. Saying the words flora, flori, and fleur, link into one another creating a navigationally themed transition, of semantic commonality but differentiation in regional use. A bit like going on a journey in the head, where a train has the same meaning with a sound blurring it together, but with the several shades of the differences experienced during the journey. 

I am interested in using when words link in terms of sounds, but are from other regions, and unrelated when it comes to having a shared semantic meaning. Instead, these words not all of a romance family, or sounding the same but distinctly different, can be linked and blurred to suggest relationships based on those differences. 

Acoustically, I want to explore object based parallels of this, more so. What sounds like one thing but is another, or transitions within a repeat to become another. 

Overlapping: 

Popcorn - fireworks - explosions - tapping hydrophonic pickup underwater  

Different actions, but blurring together: 

Rubber gloves being out on - a balloon being tied - something being slapped - a rubber hair tie being snapped around a ponytail 

[bloompompom]

Vengeful Hearts Club

♡ content: ~2.7k word count. eren jaeger x fem!reader, infidelity (reader's ex-boyfriend cheated), grinding, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected piv sex, consensual recording, rough sex, dirty talk, revenge, alcohol, explicit sexual content, explicit language. reader discretion advised. 18+ ♡ a/n: just a quick lil something-something for valentine's day

What were you supposed to do when you found out your (ex-)boyfriend was cheating on you days before Valentine’s Day?

Easy: you fuck his friend. 

Admittedly, the stunt wasn’t that calculated. And if you were to debate semantics, the real answer to that question was to cancel your dinner reservation, which you did between sobs.

But once you pulled yourself together, you decided it was time to rip the bandage off, move on, and fuck someone else—because he certainly had. Twice, actually. The first time was a drunken accident, he told you, then the second was on purpose, but only because they ‘just so happened’ to bump into each other again.

Yeah, right. 

If your ex could move on—while he was still in a relationship with you, nonetheless—then you could, too. On a whim, you redownloaded a couple of dating apps and dusted off your old profiles. You weren’t looking for anything in particular, just swiping and swiping and swiping. You were giving into meaningless conversations in hopes they would lead to even more meaningless sex. But that never happened. No one held your attention for a day. No one’s witty one-liners were all that witty. No one remotely excited you until…

Eren Jaeger. 

You were about to swipe his profile away on impulse, but something in you gave you pause. You moved your thumb aside to look at his face, only in the first photo, but that led to the second, then the one after that. 

You couldn’t say your ex’s friend was the first person you had in mind, but now that you had no ties left to him, you could finally confess you found Eren attractive. Up until now, it was merely a forbidden thought, one you had stowed away since you were first introduced. You wouldn’t dare finish the sentence, even in the sanctity of your mind, because that would make you a bad girlfriend. Eren was strictly off-limits.

Now, you could argue it was more of a grey area, which only made him all the more interesting to you. Maybe it was karma, how the universe ‘just so happened’ to drop Eren into your lap.

No, it had to be karma because why else would it have been an instant match between you? Eren had already made his choice. Dug his own grave, so to speak. But it was you who decided you would make this mess together. 

Didn’t think I’d see you on here.

You wondered if Eren even knew about the breakup, let alone the details of it. You made it crystal clear for him.

I didn’t think I’d have to dump your friend for cheating on me, but here we are :)

His reply: Fuck, you serious? I’m sorry.

It arrived in two separate messages, and strangely enough, it disarmed you. Not because of his sentiment but because of the familiarity, the specific sense of comfort he evoked. For once, it wasn’t a grueling performance where each of you would spend no less than fifteen minutes crafting every message. 

You knew Eren well enough—about as well as anyone knew their boyfriend’s friends, as deep as conversations shared in loud sports bars. When you thought about meeting up with him, your stomach didn’t pit the way it did when you imagined a stranger. 

So I figured I deserved to have a little fun now that I’m single.

You weren’t forthright with it, but the intent was obvious enough. And God, it sent him absolutely reeling. From Eren’s perspective, you were entirely off-limits. Like blaring horns and flashing-red-lights level of off-limits. He couldn’t just go and fuck his friend’s ex-girlfriend!

But he was going to. 

Which brought you to tonight; not just any old Friday night, but Valentine’s Day. You could have complained about it, but getting drinks with Eren consoled your ego more than spending the day alone. Though you could do without the incidental comments mistaking you and Eren as a lovestruck couple. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day. You make a stunning couple, by the way,” the bartender said. Earnestly, too, in the way you could tell she wasn’t just doing her job. 

“That’s all her,” Eren replied, tossing you a cheeky grin.

Okay, maybe the night wasn’t all that bad. 

Halfway through your second drink, you drummed up the courage to ask the question you weren’t sure you wanted to hear the answer to. 

Stirring your drink, you asked, “You didn’t know about it, did you?”

You didn’t need to specify what ‘it’ was before Eren answered, “Of course not.”

You found relief knowing you weren’t the only clueless one, the person ambling around with the ‘kick me!’ note taped to your back for everyone’s entertainment. 

“Of course not,” you repeated. A confident answer if you’d ever heard one. You sat higher in your seat, interested. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, I would’ve told him to come clean about it. Any of us would’ve,” Eren said, listing a few of your mutual friends. Well, they were just your ex’s friends now; you had nothing in common with them anymore.

“And,” his gaze lifted from the drink swirling in his hand to you, “maybe I was waiting for you to break up.”

Your eyes narrowed, but your smile widened. “Why?”

“You’re full of questions tonight,” he said with a slight laugh. He took a long sip. “Isn’t the answer kinda obvious?”

Between the lines, you read: Because I wanted tonight to happen. Because I wanted to get with you. Because I want to fuck you. 

You tossed back the rest of your drink, slammed it back onto the bartop with, “Your place then?”

And that was exactly how you wound up back at his apartment, in his bed. With limbs strewn amongst tousled sheets. With legs pulled apart and his hand between, fingers buried inside you, working in tandem with his thumb against your clit.

You could hardly hold your eyes open, only catching glimpses of him fucking you with his fingers through fluttering eyes. He’d found a rhythm you could only describe as mind-numbing, leaving you desperate and twitchy in his arms. 

It didn’t take long for him to get you nearly there; for either of you to get each other half-naked, with him stripped to his boxers, and you with panties still circling your ankle, shirt shoved over your tits; for him to have you slick with hot desire after a few chaste kisses placed thoughtfully against your neck. 

It had been over a year, nearly two, since you’d last been with anyone other than your ex-boyfriend. You’d forgotten the dizzying rush that came along with it. The exhilaration of someone new’s hands exploring your body for the first time, discovering the parts they like best. Every touch came as a surprise, keeping you teetering the edge in the best way possible, with your mouth slack and gasping, and your skin prickling in delight.

You puffed an exhale when Eren slipped his fingers from you. It was a much-needed moment of respite, allowing you to steady your shallow breaths, but you ached for release just as much, squeezing your thighs together like you could replicate the loss. 

Eren indulged himself with a taste, bringing his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean. Before you could register it, he used the same fingers to grasp your jaw, angling you for a kiss. Heat radiated through your stomach as you tasted yourself, the muscles clenching hotly as his tongue rolled against yours. 

You lightly pushed him down onto his back and crawled atop. You straddled him, perched on your knees as you worked his boxers down until they were out of your way. His cock bounced to tap his lower stomach, only for you to ignore it. 

You made yourself comfortable, palms flattened to his chest, with your cunt settled against his ungiving abdominals. You rocked your hips, teasing not only him but yourself as you showed him just how wet, how warm, you were. 

You made a mess of him, your arousal coating his front and the pretty trail of hair leading to his insistent cock. Swollen and begging for your attention, you felt it resting against the curve of your ass, jolting with every one of your little movements, and your little moans to match. 

Sitting a bit higher this time, you took him in your hand and slipped him between you. You glided your soft cunt over the length of him, back and forth, your head lolling to one side as you enjoyed the steady pressure of the head of his cock nudging your clit. 

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Eren groaned. His voice lowered, grew breathier, encouraging you with every word.

He placed his hands on the tops of your thighs, squeezing and smoothing over them, guiding you from a languid pace to something less torturous. Your hips spasmed then, your mouth dropping to a small O for him to pop his thumb into, wetting it before circling your clit.

You were caught in the headrush, in the frissons pulsing through your being before overtaking you like a power surge. Something came over you, you didn’t know what, but when you decided you needed him inside you right then and there, you told him, “I have an idea.”

Despite his better judgment, Eren would probably do just about anything you asked if it meant he could fuck you. Even if it entailed him recording the act just to send to his friend in some sort of revenge scheme. 

He couldn’t tell if you were serious at first, but your eyes were full of purpose when you asked for his help a second time, throwing in a ‘pretty please’ and all. 

Eren knew he wasn’t thinking straight, but frankly, he didn’t care. Seeing you, like this, he found his friend an even bigger idiot than before. How could he possibly give this up?

So that was how he would justify sending his friend a video of him fucking his ex-girlfriend raw. 

Eren angled his phone so the camera only captured you from the waist down. The video would remain entirely anonymous to just about anyone—except you, Eren, and your ex. He wouldn’t need to see your face to recognize you; he would be able to tell even as you sat reverse cowgirl on Eren’s lap. He would recognize your giggle of a moan as Eren pinned your wrists against the dip in back with a single hand, and recognize your frantic whines as he began to fuck up into you.

While the video was intended for your ex, that didn’t mean Eren couldn’t film it for himself just as much. It was hedonistic, the way he spread the fat of your ass for a better view, filming how your pussy gripped him so fucking perfectly. He thumbed over your tight hole, letting the camera catch the cute way you flexed in response. Eren touched you wherever he pleased, every place your ex no longer could. 

He yanked you down on him, stealing your breath as you cried, “Oh, fuck, Eren. I’m gonna come.”

Eren watched you on the screen of his phone, watched how your body slacked with disappointment when he pulled out just shy of your orgasm. You thought it was an accident until he stopped you from putting it back in. You let out a pathetic whine of his name as your greedy cunt clenched around nothing.

“So impatient,” Eren tutted, his voice teeming with self-satisfaction as he stroked himself at the sight. 

He locked his phone and tossed it to the other side of the bed. It was becoming a needless distraction from what he really wanted. He sat upright, pushing you down onto all fours. 

If he was going to make you come, he wanted it to be on his face. 

You expected to feel his cock bullying at your entrance, but he met you with something much gentler: his tongue lapping a broad stripe through you. Your toes curled like he had licked a spark up your spine as he continued flicking and focusing on your clit.

He was methodic with it, dedicated to your undoing. He found the pressure you liked, the right speed, then he stuck to it. 

Your head dropped between your shoulders as you panted, “Ah, hah—that feels so fucking good. Don’t—don’t stop.”

He wouldn’t dream of it, licking and licking you until you came crashing down, quite literally. Your orgasm stole whatever strength remained in your wobbly elbows, and your chest collapsed to the bed. It put such a pretty arch in your back, your ass high in the air for Eren to push back inside your fluttering, now sopping cunt.

Your mouth fell open with a silent yelp, smothered by your cheek smushed in the sheets. You were so sensitive, whimpering with every maddening ram of his hips, but all you could think about was how you wanted a recording of this, the obscene sight in the mirror opposite you. 

Eren’s eyes were trained on your reflection, dedicated and concentrated as if you would disappear if he dared to look away. He was mesmerized by you, your body, every bounce of it as he tugged you back by your hips.

You caught his eye in the reflection, his sharpened gaze meeting your dreamy—or as he’d call it, fucked-out—one. You reached a hand back to try and touch him, fingertips barely grazing his thigh. 

“Don’t worry, pretty girl. I’m not going anywhere,” Eren shushed softly, contrasting the harsh, deep, thrust that had your vision spotting white. 

You didn’t notice when his movements turned sloppy or how shameless he became in getting himself off the more it closed in on him. 

He curved a hand around your neck, just beneath your jaw. He tilted your head back to look at him, not with a choking force but with a caress of your face. It was tender despite the filthy way he asked you, “He never fucked you like this, did he? Never made you feel this good, like you deserved.”

You could only moan incoherently, but Eren felt his word’s effect on you. Your walls throbbed around him, like you were sucking him in for more. You wanted more. 

He pinched your cheeks together. “Tell me what you deserve.”

Your voice was a moony babble, barely-there whispers of, “To make you come. Please, Eren. Come for me.”

He moaned—practically whined—at your unexpected pleas, quite possibly the hottest thing he’d ever heard. He didn’t last another second before pulling out just in time, pumping his come across your back.

You finally let your heavy limbs drop to the bed, shooting Eren a lazy smile over your shoulder. He breathlessly returned it, running a hand through his hair. He plucked a few tissues from his nightstand and wiped you off before you rolled onto your back. 

You watched the rise and fall of your chest, the valley between your breasts sporting a thin layer of sweat as you sweltered in the heady bedroom. You stayed like that for what felt like too long, leading Eren to worry he was too rough.

He propped himself on his elbow, pushing some of your hair from your face to get a good look at you. When he asked if you were okay, you assured him you were. You were only a bit dazy, basking in the comedown of it all. 

Eren remembered the recording and searched for his phone. He flipped through it, ready to ask if you seriously wanted him to send it to your ex-boyfriend (and secretly crossing his fingers you wouldn't ask him to delete it), when he interrupted himself with, “Fuck.”

“What?” you asked, unbothered and lying there with your eyes closed. 

“I didn’t press record,” he groaned. 

You shot upright. “Seriously?”

“Sorry, I was a little occupied,” he deflected. You pulled a face. “Listen, I’m just as disappointed as you. Trust me.”

You flopped back to the bed with a sigh. You supposed it didn’t matter much; who knew if you even had the courage to send it anyway?

Eren thought it over as another silent minute passed between you. He had already crossed the point of no return, so surely, there was no harm in innocently asking, "We could try again, you know?"

thank you for reading xo

[awoefulstudent]

Hello everyone!

My name is Amina and I am a BSc Psychology with Honours student at the University of Hertfordshire. I am also the principal researcher of a study that aims to investigate whether judging category relatedness within semantic memory can be influenced by the level of typicality the items have alongside whether high versus low autistic traits have any effect on the performance of different types of processing.

I am currently taking volunteers for this online study. Any adults aged 18 to 65 can volunteer and you do not need an official Autism diagnosis to take part.

In the study, you will be given an item/ definition/ scenario at the top of your screen and will have to decide which of two following words match best to that using your keyboard. After that is completed you will be given the RAADS-14 questionnaire to complete.

It will take roughly 15 minutes to complete. However, a maximum of 30 minutes is given for the entire study to be completed including the information sheet, consent form, debrief sheet, and the “breaks” given (which are just for momentarily resting your eyes and hands), otherwise I cannot use your data. Please note that this study cannot be completed on a mobile phone or tablet, it must be done on a computer/laptop as the keyboard is required for the study’s completion.

You can completed this study at anytime until 23:59 GMT on Friday 1st of March here:

https://research.sc/participant/login/dynamic/0D915D45-8D85-44F9-9B63-376AF0C70573

This study has been approved by the Ethics Committee at the University of Hertfordshire and is also being conducted under the supervision of Dr. Nicholas Shipp.

Your participation is very important for this study and is very much appreciated.

Thank you for your time!

Many Thanks

Amina

EDIT: Study is now no longer taking participants!!! Thank you all who took part and spread the word of my study, it definitely means a lot to me 💟

[najia-cooks]

[ID: The first image is of four stuffed artichoke hearts on a plate with a mound of rice and fried vermicelli; the second is a close-up on one artichoke, showing fried ground 'beef' and golden pine nuts. End ID]

أرضي شوكي باللحم / Ardiyy-shawkiyy b-al-lahm (Stuffed artichoke hearts)

Artichoke hearts stuffed with spiced meat make a common dish throughout West Asia and North Africa, with variations on the recipe eaten in Lebanon, Syria, Palestine, Algeria, and Morocco. In Palestine, the dish is usually served on special occasions, either as an appetizer, or as a main course alongside rice. The artichokes are sometimes paired with cored potatoes, which are stuffed and cooked in the same manner. Stuffed artichokes do not appear in Medieval Arab cookbooks (though artichokes do), but the dish's distribution indicates that its origin may be Ottoman-era, as many other maḥshis (stuffed dishes) are.⁩

The creation of this dish is easy enough once the artichoke hearts have been excavated (or, as the case may be, purchased frozen and thawed): they are briefly deep-fried, stuffed with ground meat and perhaps pine nuts, then stewed in water, or water and tomato purée, or stock, until incredibly tender.

While simple, the dish is flavorful and well-rounded. A squeeze of lemon complements the bright, subtle earthiness of the artichoke and cuts through the richness of the meat; the fried pine nuts provide a play of textures, and pick up on the slight nutty taste that artichokes are known for.

Terminology and etymology

Artichokes prepared in this way may be called "ardiyy-shawkiyy b-al-lahm." "Ardiyy-shawkiyy" of course means "artichoke"; "ب" ("b") means "with"; "ال" ("al") is the determiner "the"; and "لَحْم" ("laḥm") is "meat" (via a process of semantic narrowing from Proto-Semitic *laḥm, "food"). Other Palestinian Arabic names for the same dish include "أرضي شوكي محشي" ("ardiyy-shawkiyy maḥshi," "stuffed artichokes"), and "أرضي شوكي على ادامه" ("ardiyy-shawkiyy 'ala adama," "artichokes cooked in their own juice").

The etymology of the Levantine dialectical phrase meaning "artichoke" is interestingly circular. The English "artichoke" is itself ultimately from Arabic "الخُرْشُوف" ("al-khurshūf"); it was borrowed into Spanish (as "alcarchofa") during the Islamic conquest of the Iberian peninsula, and thence into English via the northern Italian "articiocco." The English form was probably influenced by the word "choke" via a process of phono-semantic matching—a type of borrowing wherein native words are found that sound similar to the foreign word ("phonetics"), and communicate qualities associated with the object ("semantics").

"Artichoke" then returned to Levantine Arabic, undergoing another process of phono-semantic matching to become "ardiyy-shawkiyy": أَرْضِيّ ("ʔarḍiyy") "earthly," from أَرْض‎ ("ʔarḍ"), "Earth, land"; and شَوْكِيّ ("shawkiyy") "prickly," from شَوْك‎ ("shawk"), "thorn."

Artichokes in Palestine

Artichoke is considered to be very healthful by Palestinian cooks, and it is recommended to also consume the water it is boiled in (which becomes delightfully savory and earthy, suitable as a broth for soup). In addition to being stuffed, the hearts may be chopped and cooked with meat or potatoes into a rich soup. These soups are enjoyed especially during Ramadan, when hot soup is popular regardless of the season—but the best season for artichokes in the Levant is definitively spring. Stuffed artichokes are thus often served by Jewish people in North Africa and West Asia during Passover.

Artichokes grow wild in Palestine, sometimes in fields adjacent to cultivated crops such as cereals and olives. Swiss traveler Johann Ludwig Burckhardt, writing in 1822, referred to the abundant wild artichoke plants (presumably Cynara syriaca) near لُوبْيا ("lūbyā"), a large village of stone buildings on a hilly landscape just west of طبريا ("ṭabariyya," Tiberias):

About half an hour to the N. E. [of Kefer Sebt (كفر سبط)] is the spring Ain Dhamy (عين ظامي), in a deep valley, from hence a wide plain extends to the foot of Djebel Tor; in crossing it, we saw on our right, about three quarters of an hour from the road, the village Louby (لوبي), and a little further on, the village Shedjare (شجره). The plain was covered with the wild artichoke, called khob (خُب); it bears a thorny violet coloured flower, in the shape of an artichoke, upon a stem five feet in height.

(Despite resistance from local militia and the Arab Liberation Army, Zionist military groups ethnically cleansed Lubya of its nearly 3,000 Palestinian Arab inhabitants in July of 1948, before reducing its buildings and wells to rubble, The Jewish National Fund later planted the Lavi pine forest over the ruins.)

Artichokes are also cultivated and marketed. Elihu Grant, nearly a century after Burckhardt's writing, noted that Palestinian villages with sufficient irrigation "[went] into gardening extensively," and marketed their goods in crop-poor villages or in city markets:

Squash, pumpkin, cabbage, cauliflower, lettuce, turnip, beet, parsnip, bean, pea, chick-pea, onion, garlic, leek, radish, mallow and eggplant are common varieties [of vegetable]. The buds of the artichoke when boiled make a delicious dish. Potatoes are getting to be quite common now. Most of them are still imported, but probably more and more success will be met in raising a native crop.

Either wild artichokes (C. syriaca) or cardoons (C. cardunculus, later domesticated to yield modern commerical artichokes) were being harvested and eaten by Jewish Palestinians in the 1st to the 3rd centuries AD (the Meshnaic Hebrew is "עַכָּבִיּוֹת", sg. "עַכָּבִית", "'aqubit"; related to the Arabic "⁧عَكُوب⁩" "'akūb," which refers to a different plant). The Tosefta Shebiit discusses how farmers should treat the sprouting of artichokes ("קינרסי," "qinrasi") during the shmita year (when fields are allowed to lie fallow), indicating that Jews were also cultivating artichokes at this time.

Though artichokes were persistently associated with wealth and the feast table (perhaps, Susan Weingarten speculates, because of the time they took to prepare), trimming cardoons and artichokes during festivals, when other work was prohibited, was within the reach of common Jewish people. Those in the "upper echelons of Palestinian Jewish society," on the other hand, had access to artichokes year-round, including (through expensive marvels of preservation and transport) when they were out of season.

Jewish life and cuisine

Claudia Roden writes that stuffed artichoke, which she refers to as "Kharshouf Mahshi" (خرشوف محشي), is "famous as one of the grand old Jerusalem dishes" among Palestinian Jews. According to her, the stuffed artichokes used to be dipped in egg and then bread crumbs and deep-fried. This breading and frying is still referenced, though eschewed, in modern Sephardi recipes.

Prior to the beginning of the first Aliyah (עלייה, wave of immigration) in 1881, an estimated 3% of the overall population of Palestine, or 15,011 people, were Jewish. This Jewish presence was not the result of political Zionist settler-colonialism of the kind facilitated by Britain and Zionist organizations; rather, it consisted of ancestrally Palestinian Jewish groups, and of refugees and religious immigrants who had been naturalized over the preceding decades or centuries.

One such Jewish community were the Arabic-speaking Jews whom the Sephardim later came to call "מוּסְתערבים" or "مستعربين" ("Musta'ravim" or "Musta'ribīn"; from the Arabic "مُسْتَعْرِب⁩" "musta'rib," "Arabized"), because they seemed indifferentiable from their Muslim neighbors. A small number of them were descendants of Jews from Galilee, which had had a significant Jewish population in the mid-1st century BC; others were "מגרבים" ("Maghrebim"), or "مغربية" ("Mughariba"): descendents of Jews from Northwest Africa.

Another major Jewish community in pre-mandate Palestine were Ladino-speaking descendents of Sephardi Jews, who had migrated to Palestine in the decades following their expulsion from Spain and then Portugal in the late 15th century. Though initially seen as foreign by the 'indigenous' Mista'avim, this community became dominant in terms of population and political influence, coming to define themselves as Ottoman subjects and as the representatives of Jews in Palestine.

A third, Yiddish- and German-speaking, Askenazi Jewish population also existed in Palestine, the result of immigration over the preceding centuries (including a large wave in 1700).

These various groups of Jewish Palestinians lived as neighbors in urban centers, differentiating themselves from each other partly by the language they spoke and partly by their dress (though Sephardim and Ashkenazim quickly learned Arabic, and many Askenazim and Muslims learned Ladino). Ashkenazi women also learned from Sephardim how to prepare their dishes. These groups' interfamiliarity with each other's cuisine is further evidenced by the fact that Arabic words for Palestinian dishes entered Ladino and Yiddish (e.g. "كُفْتَة" / "kufta," rissole; "مَزَّة⁩" "mazza," appetizer); and words entered Arabic from Ladino (e.g. "דונסי" "donsi," sweet jams and fruit leather; "בוריק" "burek," meat and cheese pastries; "המים" "hamim," from "haminados," braised eggs) and Yiddish (e.g. "לעקעך‎" "lakach," honey cake).

In addition to these 'native' Jews were another two waves of Ashkenazi migration in the late 18th and early-to-mid 19th centuries (sometimes called the "היישוב הישן," "ha-yishuv ha-yashan," "old settlement," though the term is often used more broadly); and throughout the previous centuries there had also been a steady trickle of religious immigration, including elderly immigrants who wished to die in Jerusalem in order to be present at the appointed place on the day of Resurrection. Recent elderly women immigrants unable to receive help from charitable institutions would rely on the community for support, in exchange helping the young married women of the neighborhood with childcare and with the shaping of pastries ("מיני מאפה").

In the first few centuries AD, the Jewish population of Palestine were largely farmers and agricultural workers in rural areas. By the 16th century, however, most of the Jewish population resided in the Jewish Holy Cities of Jerusalem (القُدس / al-quds), Hebron (الخليل / al-khalil), Safed (صفد), and Tiberias (طبريا / ṭabariyya). In the 19th century, the Jewish population lived entirely in these four cities and in expanding urban centers Jaffa and Haifa, alongside Muslims and Christians. Jerusalem in particular was majority Jewish by 1880.

In the 19th century, Jewish women in Jerusalem, like their Christian and Muslim neighbors, used communal ovens to bake the bread, cakes, matzah, cholent, and challah which they prepared at home. One woman recalls that bread would be sent to the baker on Mondays and Thursdays—but bribes could be offered in exchange for fresh bread on Shabbat. Charges would be by the item, or else a fixed monthly payment.

Trips to the ovens became social events, as women of various ages—while watching the bakers, who might not put a dish in or take it out in time—sent up a "clatter" of talking. During religious feast days, with women busy in the kitchen, some families might send young boys in their stead.

Markets and bakeries in Jerusalem sold bread of different 'grades' based on the proportion of white and wheat flour they contained; as well as flatbread (خبز مفرود / חובז מפרוד / khobbiz mafroud), Moroccan מאווי' / ماوي / meloui, and semolina breads (כומאש / كماج / kmaj) which Maghrebim especially purchased for the Sabbath.

On the Sabbath, those who had brick ovens in their sculleries would keep food, and water for tea and coffee, warm from the day before (since religious law prohibits performing work, including lighting fires, on Shabbat); those who did not would bring their food to the oven of a neighbor who did.

Palestinian Jewish men worked in a variety of professions: they were goldsmiths, writers, doctors, merchants, scientists, linguists, carpenters, and religious scholars. Jewish women, ignoring prohibitions, engaged in business, bringing baked goods and extra dairy to markets in Jerusalem, grinding and selling flour, spinning yarn, and making clothing (usually from materials purchased from Muslims); they were also shopkeepers and sellers of souvenirs and wine. Muslims, Jews, and Christians shared residential courtyards, pastimes, commercial enterprises, and even holidays and other religious practices.

Zionism and Jewish Palestinians

Eastern European Zionists in the 1880s and 90s were ambivalent towards existing Jewish communities in Palestine, often viewing them as overly traditional and religious, backwards-thinking, and lacking initiative. Jewish Palestinians did not seem to conform with the land-based, agricultural, and productivist ideals of political Zionist thinkers; they were integrated into the Palestinian economy (rather than seeking to create their own, segregated one); they were not working to create a Jewish ethnostate in Palestine, and seemed largely uninterested in nationalist concerns. Thus they were identified with Diaspora Jewish culture, which was seen as a remnant of exile and oppression to be eschewed, reformed, or overthrown.

These attitudes were applied especially to Sephardim and Mista'arevim, who were frequently denigrated in early Zionist literature. In 1926, Revisionist Zionist leader Vladimir Jabotinsky wrote that the "Jews, thank God, have nothing in common with the East. We must put an end to any trace of the Oriental spirit in the Jews of Palestine." The governance of Jewish communities was, indeed, changed with the advent of the British Mandate (colonial rule which allowed the British to facilitate political Zionist settling), as European political and "socialist" Zionists promoted Ashkenazi over Sephardi leadership.

Under the Ottomans, the millet system had allowed a degree of Jewish and Christian autonomy in matters of religious study and leadership, cultural and legal affairs, and the minting of currency. The religious authority of all Jewish people in Palestine had been the Sephardi Rabbi of Jerusalem, and his authority on matters of Jewish law (like the authority of the Armenian Patriarchate on matters of Christian law) extended outside of Palestine.

But British and European funding allowed newer waves of Ashkenazi settlers (sometimes called "היישוב החדש," "ha-yishuv ha-khadash," "new settlement")—who, at least if they were to live out the ideals of their sponsors, were more secular and nationalist-minded than the prior waves of Ashkenazi immigration—to be de facto independent of Sephardi governance. Several factors lead to the drying up of halaka (donated funds intended to be used for communal works and the support of the poor in Sephardi communities), which harmed Sephardim economically.

Zionist ideas continued to dominate newly formed committees and programs, and Palestinian and Sephardi Jews reported experiences of racial discrimination, including job discrimination, leading to widespread poverty. The "Hebrew labor" movement, which promoted a boycott of Palestinian labor and produce, in fact marginalized all workers racialized as Arab, and promises of work in Jewish labor unions were divided in favor of Ashkenazim to the detriment of Sephardim and Mizrahim. This economic marginalization coincided with the "social elimination of shared indigenous [Palestinian] life" in the Zionist approach to indigenous Jews and Muslims.

Despite the adversarial, disdainful, and sometimes abusive relationship which the European Zionist movement had with "Oriental" Jews, their presence is frequently used in Zionist food and travel writing to present Israel as a multicultural and pluralist state. Dishes such as stuffed artichokes are claimed as "Israeli"—though they were eaten by Jews in Palestine prior to the existence of the modern state of Israel, and though Sephardi and Mizrahi diets were once the target of a civilizing, correcting mission by Zionist nutritionists. The deep-frying that stuffed artichokes call for brings to mind European Zionists' half-fascinated, half-disgusted attitudes towards falafel. The point is not to claim a dish for any one national or ethnic group—which is, more often than not, an exercise in futility and even absurdity—but to pay attention to how the rhetoric of food writing can obscure political realities and promote the colonizer's version of history. The sinking of Jewish Palestinian life prior to the advent of modern political Zionism, and the corresponding insistence that it was Israel that brought "Jewish cuisine" to Palestine, allow for such false dichotomies as "Jewish-Palestinian relations" or "Jewish-Arab relations"; these descriptors further Zionist rhetoric by making a clear situation of ethnic cleansing and settler-colonialism sound like a complex and delicate issue of inter-ethnic conflict. To boot, the presentation of these communities as having merely paved the way to Zionist nationalism ignores their existence as groups with their own political, social, and cultural lives and histories.

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Ingredients:

Serves 4 (as a main dish).

For the artichokes:

6 fresh, very large artichokes; or frozen (not canned) whole artichoke hearts

1 lemon, quartered (if using fresh artichokes)

250g (1 1/2 cups) vegetarian ground beef substitute; or 3/4 cup TVP hydrated with 3/4 cup vegetarian 'beef' stock from concentrate

1 yellow onion, minced

Scant 1/2 tsp kosher salt

1/2 tsp ground black pepper

1 pinch ground cardamom (optional)

1/4 tsp ground allspice or seb'a baharat (optional)

1 Tbsp pine nuts (optional)

Water, to simmer

Oil, to fry

2 tsp vegetarian 'beef' stock concentrate, to simmer (optional)

Lemon, to serve

Larger artichokes are best, to yield hearts 3-4 inches in width once all leaves are removed. If you only have access to smaller artichokes, you may need to use 10-12 to use up all the filling; you might also consider leaving some of the edible internal leaves on.

The meat may be spiced to taste. Sometimes only salt and black pepper are used; some Palestinian cooks prefer to include seb'a baharat, white pepper, allspice, nutmeg, cardamom, and/or cinnamon.

Medieval Arab cookbooks sometimes call for vegetables to be deep-fried in olive oil (see Fiḍālat al-Khiwān fī Ṭayyibāt al-Ṭaʿām wa-l-Alwān, chapter 6, recipe no. 373, which instructs the reader to treat artichoke hearts this way). You may use olive oil, or a neutral oil such as canola or sunflower (as is more commonly done in Palestine today).

Elihu Grant noted in 1921 that lemon juice was often served with stuffed vegetable dishes; today stuffed artichokes are sometimes served with lemon.

For the rice:

200g Egyptian rice (or substitute any medium-grained white rice)

2 tsp broken semolina vermicelli (شعيريه) (optional)

1 tsp olive oil (optional)

Large pinch salt

520g water, or as needed

Broken semolina vermicelli (not rice vermicelli!) can be found in plastic bags at halal grocery stores.

Instructions:

For the stuffed artichokes:

1. Prepare the artichoke hearts. Cut off about 2/3 of the top of the artichoke (I find that leaving at least some of the stem on for now makes it easier to hollow out the base of the artichoke heart without puncturing it).

2. Pull or cut away the tough outer bracts ("leaves") of the artichoke until you get to the tender inner leaves, which will appear light yellow all the way through. As you work, rub a lemon quarter over the sides of the artichoke to prevent browning.

3. If you see a sharp indentation an inch or so above the base of the artichoke, use kitchen shears or a sharp knife to trim off the leaves above it and form the desired bowl shape. Set aside trimmings for a soup or stew.

4. Use a small spoon to remove the purple leaves and fibers from the center of the artichoke. Make sure to scrape the spoon all along the bottom and sides of the artichoke and get all of the fibrous material out.

5. Use a paring knife to remove any remaining tough bases of removed bracts and smooth out the base of the artichoke heart. Cut off the entire stem, so that the heart can sit flat, like a bowl.

6. Place the prepared artichoke heart in a large bowl of water with some lemon juice squeezed into it. Repeat with each artichoke.

7. Drain artichoke hearts and pat dry. Heat a few inches of oil in a pot or wok on medium and fry artichoke hearts, turning over occasionally, for a couple minutes until lightly browned. If you don't want to deep-fry, you can pan-fry in 1 cm or so of oil, flipping once. Remove with a slotted spoon and drain.

8. Prepare the filling. Heat 1 tsp of olive oil in a large skillet on medium-high and fry onions, agitating often, until translucent.

Tip: Some people add the pine nuts and brown them at this point, to save a step later. If you do this, they will of course be mixed throughout the filling rather than being a garnish on top.

9. Add spices, salt, and meat substitute and fry, stirring occasionally, until meat is browned. (If using TVP, brown it by allowing it to sit in a single layer undisturbed for 3-4 minutes, then stir and repeat.) Taste and adjust spices and salt.

10. Heat 1 Tbsp of olive oil or margarine in a small pan on medium-low. Add pine nuts and fry, stirring constantly, until they are a light golden brown, then remove with a slotted spoon. Note that, once they start taking on color, they will brown very quickly and must be carefully watched. They will continue to darken after they are removed from the oil, so remove them when they are a shade lighter than desired.

11. Stuff the artichoke hearts. Fill the bowl of each heart with meat filling, pressing into the bottom and sides to fill completely. Top with fried pine nuts.

12. Cook the artichoke hearts. Place the stuffed artichoke hearts in a single layer at the bottom of a large stock pot, along with any extra filling (or save extra filling to stuff peppers, eggplant, zucchini, or grape leaves).

13. Whisk stock concentrate into several cups of just-boiled water, if using—if not, whisk in about a half teaspoon of salt. Pour hot salted water or stock into the pot to cover just the bottoms of the stuffed artichokes.

14. Simmer, covered, for 15-20 minutes, until the artichokes are tender. Simmer uncovered for another 5-10 minutes to thicken the sauce.

For the rice:

1. Rinse your rice once by placing it in a sieve, putting the sieve in a closely fitting bowl, then filling the bowl with water; rub the rice between your fingers to wash, and remove the sieve from the bowl to strain.

2. Place a bowl on a kitchen scale and tare. Add the rice, then add water until the total weight is 520g. (This will account for the amount of water stuck to the rice from rinsing.)

3. (Optional.) In a small pot with a close-fitting lid, heat 1 tsp olive oil. Add broken vermicelli and fry, agitating often, until golden brown.

4. Add the rice and water to the pot and stir. Increase heat to high and allow water to come to a boil. Cover the pot and lower heat to a simmer. Cook the rice for 15 minutes. Remove from heat and steam for 10 minutes.

To serve:

1. Plate artichoke hearts on a serving plate alongside rice and lemon wedges; or, place artichoke hearts in a shallow serving dish, pour some of their cooking water in the base of the dish, and serve rice on a separate plate.

Tip: The white flesh at the base of the bracts (or "leaves") that you removed from the artichokes for this recipe is also edible. Try simmering removed leaves in water, salt, and a squeeze of lemon for 15 minutes, then scraping the bract between your teeth to eat the flesh.

[txttletale]

dnd is written the way it is because every goddamn table becomes a semantic war only matched by the backend of a Wikipedia page as soon as two people want to play pretend slightly differently

i mean yes dnd is written with this exact level of built-in assumption that nobody at the table respects or likes each other and so every single piece of rules text must erect dozens of barriers to creativity or play in an attempt to preempt the worst most annoying people in the world ruining other people's fun on purpose. however i think roleplaying games should not be written with this assumption and should instead be written for people who like playing games together and having a nice time

[withacapitalp]

On the first day of school, Eddie had stood on their table in the cafeteria and declared that this was going to be his year. 

Well, ‘86 was going to be his year. Technically it was still ‘85 for three more months, but semantics semantics.  The rest of the club was confused, not exactly sure why he felt like this year was going to be different to the years of torture and mayhem that had proceeded it, but they appreciated Eddie’s insane amounts of optimism. 

Then two weeks later, Eddie spotted a group of lost little freshmen sheep. The one wearing a Weird Al t-shirt introduced himself as Dustin Henderson when Eddie came over to offer them refuge amongst the freaks of the school, and there was no doubt in the world that Eddie had been right. 

‘86 was going to be his year. 

Because it wasn’t like Dustin was a super rare name, but Eddie had never met a Dustin in Hawkins before that day. Meeting Dustin Henderson wasn’t just a fantastic coincidence, it was fate in action. 

Because Dustin Henderson was going to be the reason Eddie met his soulmate. 

Eddie had never shown anyone but Wayne his words. They had always been something sacred, special, no one else needed to know. There were people who showed everyone in the world, always looking for the person that might be the one to complete them, the one who would have words that matched their own. Eddie wasn’t one of those people. 

Even Gareth didn’t know.  

But, every night before bed, Eddie would carefully unwrap the bandage he always kept wound around his upper arm, looking down at the words and carefully tracing them with a single fingertip. 

Yeah. On Dust-Dustin’s mother. 

Dustin’s mother. They were so distinctive, so unique. It wasn’t the thing everyone dreaded- ‘How are you?’, ‘How can I help you?’, or even the worst, ‘Hi’. Eddie’s words were special, and that meant his soulmate was special too. 

Eddie had no idea what to expect from that first conversation, but he knew it was going to be wild. Probably some long winded crazy debate with laughter and sharp quips, and finally those words pushed out between giggles, which was the reason they would be shuttered. 

What Eddie never would have expected was to hear those words come out of Steve’s Harrington’s mouth. 

He never even thought that the words might be stuttered in fear, not laughter. Fear because of Eddie. Fear because of the broken bottle being held against his neck by his own damn soulmate.

Except no. No it couldn’t be him. Steve Harrington was not his soulmate. Steve Harrington was a jock douchebag, the kind of person Eddie had spent his entire life campaigning against. Steve Harrington was the epitome of everything Eddie wasn’t, and there was no way the universe or fate or god meant for them to be together. 

There had to be someone else in the room, someone he hadn’t seen who was going to appear out of the darkness and repeat exactly what Steve said.  

“Did you just say the words Dustin’s fucking mother to me?” Eddie growled out, desperate to be wrong, watching as Steve’s face grew impossibly whiter. There was a sharp burn on his upper arm, and he shakily dropped the bottle, hearing it shatter on the ground between the two of them. 

No doubt about it. Steve Harrington was his fucking soulmate. 

“Oh my god,” Robin Buckley said faintly from the background, but Eddie didn’t turn to face her. He couldn’t turn away from Steve, who was staring at him with the widest, most beautiful set of brown eyes Eddie had ever seen. 

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” Steve offered, his voice barely more than a whisper. 

Eddie stumbled backward, the back of his thighs hitting up against the boat he had been hiding in. He roughly jerked at the right sleeve of his shirt, pulling it upward until the deep black words were visible, standing out against his pale skin. 

Steve fell back against the side of the boat house with a shaking sigh, slowly pulling off his jacket and peeling back one side of his stupid button down polo. He had left the top three buttons undone which made it easy for Steve to expose his soulmark to the rest of them. 

And there, sitting right over Steve’s heart, were the words he had just said.

Did you just say the words Dustin's fucking mother to me?

The first words Eddie Munson had ever directly said to Steve Harrington.