#text id

[snaffirmations]

[Id: an image of a pale brown snail sitting on a toy motorcycle. Above and below the snail is text that reads "They want you to give in to the despair" "They want you to give up." "There IS a future for us" "and we WILL live to see it". The words "is" in "There IS a future for us" and "will" in "and we WILL live to see it" are bolded and capitalized. Next to the motorcycle, a red Lego helmet sits on the ground. End Id]

[eco-lite]

My favorite moments from David Mack's Control. Most of them are Garak, even though he's barely in this book...

[Text ID: “’I'm well aware that you're all fugitives of the highest order in the Federation. Nothing new for you, Doctor, or for your inamorata"—he let contempt drip off that last word—"though I have to imagine being the target of an interstellar dragnet must be something of a new experience for your friends.’” End ID]

Okay this is hilarious. David Mack establishes that Sarina Douglas (the genetically-engineered woman Julian helps in "Statistical Probabilities." Remember her?) and Julian have been in a relationship for a while, but he's also clearly a garashir shipper who loves to make Garak suffer. Jealous!Garak my beloved.

[Text ID: “Garak shot a wary look at his bodyguards, then he moved closer to Bashir. ‘Are you asking as a Starfleet officer? As a doctor? Or as a man in need of asylum?’ ‘I'm asking as your friend.... Help us, Elim.’ It might have been nothing more than Bashir's imagination, but he thought he saw the faintest hint of jealousy in Garak's eyes when the castellan glanced at Sarina. But then Garak looked back at Bashir and smiled. ‘Very well, Julian. For an old friend... anything is possible.’” End ID]

Poor Garak. This is truly painful. Especially since Julian recognizes his jealousy and doesn't ever address it.

[Text ID: “’Executions without judicial oversight? It's an obscenity masquerading as national security.’  ‘Yes. And it's also how the Obsidian Order kept total control over the Cardassian Union for nearly a century.’ That put an end to Bashir's perambulation. ‘Wait, no. I didn't mean to say—' ‘That any part of the Federation could ever have anything in common with the Obsidian Order? Or with the Tal Shiar? Oh, how I envy your naïveté, Doctor. To believe that any nation state could ever endure without having an appendage willing to stain itself in blood—what a luxury it must be to live in the arms of such delusion.’ He expected a tirade from Bashir. A red-faced defense of the Federation's principles, its integrity, its virtue. Instead the doctor reined in his dudgeon and approached Garak's desk. He set his knuckles on the polished wood and bowed his head while he drew a calming breath. ‘I can't deny there's rot in the core of Starfleet. In the heart of the Federation. I've seen it.’ He looked up at Garak, and his eyes had the hard, unyielding focus of a man ready to go to war. ‘I came to you because I need to know how to stop it. How to end it. How to destroy it.’ ‘Well, that's simple, Doctor. What worked for Cardassia will work for the Federation. To excise this cancer from your body politic, all you need to do is kill the body, burn it down to ash, then resurrect and rebuild it with wiser eyes and a sadder heart.’ Bashir's brow creased with scorn. ‘You mock me.’ ‘Not at all, Doctor. You saw what happened to this world at the end of the Dominion War—to all the planets of the Cardassian Union. The Dominion burned us to the ground. Slew all but a fraction of our population. Left us with nothing but cinders and cenotaphs. That is what it took to free Cardassia from the grip of the Obsidian Order. Are you ready to pay that price so the people of the Federation can bask in the purity of their liberty? Is it worth the blood of billions? Is it worth seeing your worlds on fire?’ ‘You make it sound as if there's no middle ground,’ Bashir protested. ‘No choice besides surrender or slaughter.’ Garak saw no reason to blunt the truth's cutting edge. ‘Why else would such programs exist, Doctor? What is the value of intelligence if it doesn't lead to action?’ This time Bashir rose to Garak's challenge. ‘What is the value of action if it betrays all that we stand for?’ His shoulders slumped as if they bore a terrible weight. ‘Garak, I didn't come here to be lectured, or to be told I'm too idealistic. I came here for advice.’ ‘Of what sort?’ ‘The kind that will help me stop Thirty-one. Permanently.’ Maybe the doctor was foolhardy. Perhaps his mission was doomed to fail. But there was no denying the man possessed the courage of his convictions. Garak tried to remember what that had felt like in his long-ago squandered youth—and then he realized, to his shame, that he had never known the sweet sting of such passions. ‘If you want to kill Section Thirty-one,’ he said, ‘you'll need to turn their greatest strength against them—transform it into their most dire weakness. They thrive on secrecy, on anonymity, just as the Obsidian Order once did. Take that away from them. Expose them and they'll be vulnerable—and that's when you strike the killing blow.’ He set his palms on the desktop and leaned forward to emphasize his final piece of counsel. ‘But make sure you leave nothing of your enemy intact. When your work is done, don't try to turn their assets to your advantage. Destroy them all, every last one—or else the monster will simply rise again.’” End ID]

Although the concept and plot of this book is really interesting, I was generally not impressed by the characterization in this book. But Garak is an exception. I love this passage because it's a brief return to Garak and Julian's cherished philosophical debates. And it so perfectly encapsulates Garak's world-view after all he's been through. He's under no delusions of how far a society will go to "protect itself." Or how hard it can be to dismantle a broken system. He's experienced both tragedies first-hand.

[Text ID: “’The codicil concerning Doctor Bashir indicated a ninety-four percent likelihood that he would seek the aid of his former lover and Deep Space Nine crewmate, Captain Ezri Dax. Instead, he ran to Castellan Elim Garak.’" End ID]

Ha. That's telling, isn't it...

[Text ID: “’Have you considered the possibility that you've chosen the wrong side?’ The question felt to Bashir like a vote of no confidence. He hoped he had heard Garak wrong. ‘What do you mean, the wrong side?’ ‘I merely mean to ask, Julian, if you've ever stopped to entertain the notion that perhaps Section Thirty-one serves a valid purpose?’ The question itself offended Bashir. ‘Don't be absurd, Garak. Thirty-one wields deadly power with absolutely no legal accountability or oversight. It commits countless crimes against Federation citizens and foreign peoples. It steals, defrauds, counterfeits, murders. It acts in the name of the Federation while betraying every principle for which we stand. Its continued existence is an insult to our entire civilization.’ Garak struck an imperious pose. ‘Really? An insult? What if that insult to your Federation is the only reason it still exists?’ He prowled forward, crossing Bashir's imaginary boundary of personal space. ‘Every nation-state in history has relied, at one time or another, on the services of such organizations for their very survival. Why should yours be any different?’” End ID]

Devil's advocate as always. But Garak has a point. Cardassia was only able to maintain it's strictly military society--the status quo--because of the Obsidian Order. Based on his own experience, it's reasonable to think that Section Thirty-one may be the only thing holding the Federation together. No matter how much its actions go against the holier-than-thou principles the Federation claims to uphold.

[Text ID: “’Beliefs are dangerous things, Julian. Once we invest in them, it can be hard to challenge them without invoking cognitive dissonance. But in this case, I suggest you try. Because if I'm correct, going to war with Section Thirty-one can only end badly for you. Either you will lose, and you and all your friends will suffer gruesome fates I'd rather not imagine; or you will win—and in so doing, end up inflicting more harm than good upon your beloved Federation.’" End ID]

Not Garak trying to predict the ending of the book. Somehow the real ending was a mix of both. And that "beliefs are dangerous things" line... Yeah.

[Text ID: (Referring to the décor of the Federation Headquarters in Paris, which is scientifically constructed to be soothing and discourage potential violent behavior) “Like the Federation's pervasive imperialism, the lobby's social controls were subtle and hideously effective.” End ID]

Damn, you said it, not me. I do love this book's determination to deconstruct every charitable feeling the reader might have about the Federation.

[Text ID: “Alone with Bashir, Garak looked at his friend. He circled in front of him. ‘Are you still with me, my dear doctor?’ He squatted in front of the hoverchair and tried in vain to make eye contact with his friend. ‘Are you blind to the sight of me? Deaf to the music of my voice?’ Bashir's silence and his wounded stare into an empty distance disturbed Garak in ways he feared to confront. This was not the man he remembered from Deep Space 9, or the confidant with whom he had trusted his private musings in the aftermath of the Dominion War. This man was detached from the world, in it but separated from it by a barrier as unbreachable as it was intangible. This was the shattered husk of a good man, the sorry remains of one who had refused to bend to the cruelties of the world and ended up broken instead.” End ID]

I didn't realize this book leads directly into Una McCormack's Enigma Tales (excellent book, go read it!) until this point. That knowledge makes this moment hurt more, I think.

[Text ID: “There was naught left for Garak to do now but keep his friend safe, in a clean and well-lit place, and give him whatever time he needed to heal himself—or at least to die in peace, with his last measure of privacy intact and jealously guarded by someone who loved him.” End ID]

Time to curl up in a ball and stare into the middle distance for a while...

[chronicsymptomsyndrome]

I follow tons of disability/chronic illness/mental health tags and I keep seeing memes or infographics without alt text or image IDs. This is not okay for content of any subject matter, but its beyond ridiculous for these spaces in particular. You can’t call yourself an advocate if you are declining to use accessibility tools like this. There are absolutely no excuses, especially with the technologies we have now. Most devices can read and copy the text out of any image, for example.

Basically if it’s not worth including everyone, it’s not worth posting. Make it accessible or don’t post it. Thank you

[briarlovesclara]

there's something about a friendship between a ghost and the only person who truly still loves them like that

[shikasual]

eleventh ✨

24.01.2022

[thefirstofthefakeones]

im so high, my jumpsuit takes me so high, im flyin from a fire, from nico and the niners (woah)

(drawing of myself for my pfp)

[text id: a drawing of a tanned man with short, fluffy brown hair, yellow eyes, small horns, and goat ears. he is wearing a fluffy hoodie that is cream with a dark cream checker pattern. the left side of his face has a large blast scar and his eye is squinted from injury. his left ear is missing half from the same injury. he has a scar on his chin and on his right cheek. his right ear has a notch missing and has a loop earring. his facial expression is bored or uninterested. end text id.]

[curiositysavesthecat]

*Talking about posts with photos that ONLY focus on what the texts inside them said (those photos that are simply white background with words written on them).

*This poll was submitted to us and we simply posted it so people could vote and discuss their opinions on the matter. If you’d like for us to ask the internet a question for you, feel free to drop the poll of your choice in our inbox and we’ll post them anonymously (for more info, please check our pinned post).

[t0rschlusspan1k]

— William Blake, The Sick Rose, from "Songs of Innocence and Experience" (1794)

[Image I.D. — “O Rose thou art sick. / The invisible worm, / That flies in the night / In the howling storm: // Has found out thy bed / Of crimson joy: / And his dark secret love / Does thy life destroy. .” — End I.D.]

[snaffirmations]

[Id: an image of a pale brown snail sitting one a miniature blue sofa. Above and below the snail is text that reads "You are doing what you can." "It is enough." "Self-hatred helps no one." The sofa is patterned with darker blue flowers and the image background is a gradient of yellow. End Id]

[eco-lite]

Time to share both sillies and beautiful words from @dianeduane 's The Wounded Sky!

[Text ID: “’And greetings to you also, Mr. Sc’tt; well met indeed! A long time now I’ve wanted to meet the man who has so many times has pulled the estimable Captain’s nuts out of the fire.’ Jim put up an eyebrow. Scotty reddened, and held his grin back from becoming a laugh. ‘I thank ye, lady,’ he said, ‘though it’s not often been so dramatic.’ ‘The idiom, though, would be “chestnuts,”’ Spock said, utterly deadpan. ‘Oh? Thank you.’” End ID]

Okay, starting out absolutely bonkers, got it. For real, I wish ST media played more with language mistranslations/misunderstandings.

[Text ID: “For once Jim had no eyes for the window in the officer’s lounge, despite the radiant view outside. He managed to get a good part of his steak down before the ship’s computer spoke softly to him, telling him that Spock has logged off the Bridge and had instructed the lift to drop him at deck six. Jim bolted the rest of the steak, had the table dispose of it, and was working on a salad when Spock came quietly in. ‘May I join you, sir?’ Jim waved a forkful of greenery in invitation.” End ID]

This is so freaking funny. This could either be taken as Jim not wanting to offend the vegetarian Spock by eating meat in his presence, or that Jim knows he's supposed to be on a diet and doesn't want Spock to see him cheating. And the way he's instantly acting casual with his salad as Spock walks in. Perfection.

[Text ID: “’This would normally be morning for me. Bit I wanted to be here at “night.” So do a lot of my people, evidently…’ Jim nodded, smiling slightly; the computer, somewhat bemused, had told him that such shift-trading and shuffling was going on all over the ship. ‘Some “dawn” for you,’ he said. ‘Well…it is. It is.’ Uhura didn’t take her eyes away from the great silent pool of light. ‘First time any of us have seen this light after all…’ ‘I would hardly say that, Lieutenant,’ said the quiet voice on Jim’s left hand. Jim didn’t even have to move; he just let out a small breath of amusement and gazed out into the dark, listening to the old familiar game among his officers begin. ‘This light has rarely left Enterprise’s hull since her keel was flown. For an expert in communications, you exhibit a shocking imprecision of expression. Were you instead to say that you have never seen the Galaxy in this particular fashion—’ ‘Mr. Spock,’ Uhura said with great affection, ‘you are incorrigible.’ ‘Only impermeable, Lieutenant,’ Spock said. His voice was calm as usual, and revealed nothing; but Jim stole a sideways glance and saw that shadow of a smile that Spock occasionally wore. The Vulcan did not lean on the railing. He stood straight, but his stance had comfort about it, and his eyes were lifted up to the great darkness as if inviting it to appreciate his humor—though not to do anything so gauche as laugh out loud. It cooperated.” End ID]

I love banter.

[Text ID: “Jim bent his head a bit, speaking only for Spock to hear. ‘I was going to congratulate you on your timing, by the way.’ ‘Sir?’ ‘Getting us out of there. –We were there?’ ‘Surely I was. And I perceived you to be.’ ‘Mindlink?’ ‘Again, I think not, sir. Though stress on either member of a …team… that has mindmelded in the past, will sometimes reactivate the linkage, this experience did not have the same “flavor.” Also, I was unable to break it, as I would have been able to do were it a true link—so I must decline the congratulations with regrets. We must look for another solution—and, I suspect, a more complex one.’” End ID]

...team... .........TEAM........

[Text ID: “’This the popular name, “creative physics.”’ There was an amiable snort from a ways down the railing, to Spock’s left. Jim glanced in that direction and noticed that McCoy had joined them, and Harb Tanzer was leaning on the railing on Bone’s far side. ‘How do you “discover” a statue you have yet to sculpt?’ McCoy said in good-natured derision. ‘Because you have sculpted it, even before you pick up your first chisel. This time scheme discards both succession—“cause and effect”—and simultaneity, as fragmented and incomplete glimpses of the larger continuum in which both coexist. In such a scheme, the rude comment you make in a moment has existed complete since the beginning of time—it “was, and is, and shall be,” to borrow a phrase, “forever and ever.”’ McCoy glared at him and said nothing. Harb laughed. ‘But Mr. Spock, he didn’t say it!’ ‘That is entirely like the Doctor,’ Spock said with an expression of mild annoyance. ‘He cheerfully flouts that natural course of a whole Universe to prove me wrong.’” End ID]

Bones is so belligerent. I love him.

[Text ID: “Deliberately, then, as if turning away from even her slight safety, Jim brought himself about to look at what cast the starlight on her hull. And the view was very different from the vista available on the observation deck, where one was snug inside a ship. There it hung above him. A galaxy, the Galaxy, not shut safely outside a clearsteel window, not even nearby any longer, but more distant than the Magellanic; a bright-shored island hanging grand and silent in the airless wastes displaying all of its starry majesty at once. Jim just drifted there, letting himself see. Sol was lost in the sweep of stars in the leftward arm, an utterly insignificant 24th-magnitude spark that not even the great ten-meter Artemis/Luna reflector could have made out at this range. The whole Federation, from the Orionis worlds to the Vela Congeries, was a patch of sparkle that an upraised finger could cover The Klingon and Romulan empires were almost entirely— Awe grew in him again, and a muted joy; but also an increasingly powerful disquiet, so strong that inside the suit Jim simply shook for a moment. The world that all his life had been around him, was suddenly outside him—and he was outside it, way out in the coldest deeps where no star shone. Jim gazed in uneasy wonder at the little spiral-shaped home of life, with all its lights left burning in the dark. It finally sank in, as it hadn’t even after the first jump, what he’d done to himself and the people he commanded. He’d gone too far, this time. He and four hundred thirty-eight souls were truly where no man had gone before, alone as no one in history had ever been. It delighted him. It terrified him. His voice sounded loud in the helm as, meaning it, he whispered that old phrase he’d read first in Anglish: ‘O Lord, Thy sea is so great, and my vessel so small…’” End ID]

And now we get to the beautiful language parts. For context, the Enterprise has transported outside the Milkyway galaxy in a very dangerous way, and Jim is taking in the vast beauty of his home from this far vantage point. But it's also finally sinking in how deeply in trouble they are.

[Text ID: “The doctor saw Jim’s stunned look, spoke a word or two to a couple of the people who were keeping him company, and left them behind to see to Kirk. Kim literally had to squeeze his eyes shut as Bones approached. McCoy blazed, not with light, but with an intense compassion that could be felt on the skin, even from a distance, like the sun in a desert. Jim had always known Bones cared deeply about people, but he was unprepared for the full truth of the matter—” End ID]

Bones literally glows with compassion in this strange liminal space realm. Yeah, that makes sense. I love how Diane writes Bones' character. I feel like she really understands him.

[Text ID: Two pages. The first page says: “’Captain,’ the other familiar voice said on his other side, ‘are you well?’ And Jim turned to look at Spock, and was dazzled again, but this time he couldn’t look away. Spock hadn’t changed; but here his spirit showed as it never had before, even in the harrowing intimacy of mindmeld. From the meld, Jim was already familiar with the incessant activity of that cool, curious mind as it tirelessly hunted answers. But now he saw where the activity came from—Spock’s utter certainty that there was no higher purpose for his life than to burn it away in search of the truth, and to give that truth away when he found it. More, Jim saw what fueled and underlay the certainty: a profound vulnerability paired  with a great, unreasonable joy—the deepest-hidden parts of Spock’s Earth-human heritage, both of them sheer terror to a Vulcan mind. Even when Spock had been trying to suppress or deny those hidden legacies, they had managed again and again to escape and express themselves as valor, and wry humor, and the endless good-natured fencing with McCoy. But Spock wasn’t denying the inheritance so vehemently any more, and the power of the older, wiser man was a joy to behold, and a terror. This great mind has been standing behind me and quietly obeying my orders for all these years? Why?? He could be so much more—But in this place, the answer was plain to read. Loyalty was frequently unreasonable and illogical—and Spock had long since decided that this one aspect of his life could do without logic. ‘Spock,’ Jim said—and ran out of words. He was deeply moved, and didn’t know how to adequately express it—until he abruptly felt Spock feeling the emotion with him, and knew there was nothing more that needed saying on the subject. ‘I’m fine, Spock,’ he said then, and glanced over at McCoy. Bones was gazing at Spock in a curious, almost grudging calm.” The second page says: ‘Leonard,’ Spock said, ‘you are not seeing anything now that you have not long suspected was already there. Nor am I.’ The shadow-smile, the flash of humor, pierced Spock’s outer and inner sobrieties once more. ‘And you need not be concerned about your “dark” placed revolting me. I have seen them before, in meld, and may yet see them there again. More apparent here is that neither of us is quite the hopeless case the other has sometimes considered him to be.’” End ID]

This is so powerful--this understanding of each other they've all come to. Being able to see each other fully, and not shy away. This is the emotional connection stuff that should be explored more in sci-fi. The genre is a perfect medium for it.

[Text ID: “Moved far past words, Jim gave his gift, the thing sweetest to him. To sit at the heart of four hundred thirty-eight souls, and be truly their heart, and their head; the one they gave their power to—not unquestioningly either, but after consideration, by choice, and sometimes )though he would never understand it when it happened) by love. To command them, to be (by that command) in service to them. To suffer their pains and joys as they did his. To be companion to them, to delight in what the all did together—explore, dare, adventure, work, play. In all the Universe he could think of nothing better to give, nothing more worth being remembered when he and all the humanities and the Galaxy itself were merely old stories. He gave the memory, the feeling of what he loved, to the Others; and tears fell again as he realized who he was, and how lucky he was to be him.” End ID]

It's complicated, but essentially the Enterprise crew has awakened this entity with their zero-space jumping, and now the entity doesn't want to give up their sentience. The solution was to erase the memory of their encounter with the Enterprise crew, but let them keep their sentience and create a whole new universe in this other dimension they live in; one made up of all the qualities the Enterprise crew wants to share. This is what Jim shared. I love seeing this side of him. As always, Diane is a legend at believably expanding upon the TOS characters, and further exploring their emotions and relationships. It's really beautiful to see.

[dogboyklug]

sogy

[interpolationz]

Text ID and full page under cut

i'm surprised i've never heard this sentiment before, but i've definitely experienced it to be true

the parts of my style that i love most, the ones that really stick around, have never come about through trying to trying to develop stylizations.

often they come around entirely without notice and only in hindsight do i recognize them

[Text ID, first image: a photo of a book page with excerpt highlighted, it says:

'When you go to art school, you'll find everybody sitting around practising how to do their signature, and sure enough, there they were, some of them doing just that.

She also gave me this great advice: 'Don't try to develop a style. Ignore style. Just concentrate on the drawing and style will just occur.'

the second two sentences have a bolder highlight /End ID]

full page from The Animator's Survival Kit by Richard Williams

[Text ID, second image: a full photo of a book page, the top half of the page is occupied by a graphite figure drawing of nude woman facing away from the viewer, the text reads:

I showed my ex-illustrator mother several of these life drawings when she was bed-bound just before she died. 'I've been working at reconstituting myself, Mom, doing all these drawings.' She looked at them carefully for some time, then said, 'Very nice, very nice ... Nothing new.' Advice from the inside - from one's family - somehow doesn't have the same impact as from the outside. However my mother had once said, 'When you go to art school, you'll find everybody sitting around practising how to do their signature, and sure enough, there they were, some of them doing just that.

She also gave me this great advice: 'Don't try to develop a style. Ignore style. Just concentrate on the drawing and style will just occur.'

Of course there's an opposing view to all of this 'you've got to learn to draw' stuff.

The great Tex Avery, master of animation's ability to do the impossible and make the unreal spring to life - and the first director of Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd - said:

'I was never too great an artist. I realised there at Lantz's that most of those fellows could draw rings around me... I thought, Brother! Why fight it? I'll never make it! Go the other route. And I'm glad I did. My goodness, I've enjoyed that a lot more than I would have enjoyed just animating scenes all my life.'

/End ID]

[ladyfarona]

Trick or treat! 🎃🐈‍⬛🖤

I'm sorry, I went to sleep early. 😅

Picture ID: a clear bowl of various popular chocolate candies such as Twix, Snickers, Kit Kat, Reeses, and others. /end ID

Hope you had a nice night! :)

[samsbigkill]

[ID: A two panel mini comic.

The first panel shows a back view of Disappearance Before Dawn, an Iterator OC. Light is hunched over, gingerly putting a hand to light's face. Text beside light says as follows:

Puppet... undamaged.

Structure... similarly...

What did it (caps) DO- (end caps)

End text transcription.

The send panel shows a front view of Disappearance, now touching one of his eyes with the opposite hand, looking downwards in shock. The rain world symbol for "predator/danger" has been messily painted on his face. Text around him says:

Ah.

I see, now.

So that's how it is...

(Caps) UNGRATEFUL BEAST.

End text transcript.

"Beast" is in a dark red, while the rest of Disappearance's text is in a dark purple-blue.

End ID.]

bit sloppy but i finally finished this woooooooo woo

fucken empaths man...

[t0rschlusspan1k]

[Text ID: Tired // I am so tired of waiting, / Aren't you, / For the world to become good / And beautiful and kind? / Let us take a knife / And cut the world in two - / And see what worms are eating / At the rind. // Langston Hughes.]

[snaffirmations]

[Id. An image of a black and orange snail on a white piece of paper. Above and below the snail there is text that reads "Rushing things is a scarcity mindset", "There is plenty of time for the thing you want to accomplish". End Id]

Source _@/ \@_