#today… is one of those wikipedia days

[afoggymirror]

Sigh............ should I retcon Devotion so that Irene smokes hella tobacco, in one of these really cool early-modern Korean pipes I just found out about, and she puffs on Seulgi's face and burns her a little with the metal part, just like Harin Pyramid Game?

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How lock-in hurts design

Berliners: Otherland has added a second date (Jan 28) for my book-talk after the first one sold out - book now!

If you've ever read about design, you've probably encountered the idea of "paving the desire path." A "desire path" is an erosion path created by people departing from the official walkway and taking their own route. The story goes that smart campus planners don't fight the desire paths laid down by students; they pave them, formalizing the route that their constituents have voted for with their feet.

Desire paths aren't always great (Wikipedia notes that "desire paths sometimes cut through sensitive habitats and exclusion zones, threatening wildlife and park security"), but in the context of design, a desire path is a way that users communicate with designers, creating a feedback loop between those two groups. The designers make a product, the users use it in ways that surprise the designer, and the designer integrates all that into a new revision of the product.

This method is widely heralded as a means of "co-innovating" between users and companies. Designers who practice the method are lauded for their humility, their willingness to learn from their users. Tech history is strewn with examples of successful paved desire-paths.

Take John Deere. While today the company is notorious for its war on its customers (via its opposition to right to repair), Deere was once a leader in co-innovation, dispatching roving field engineers to visit farms and learn how farmers had modified their tractors. The best of these modifications would then be worked into the next round of tractor designs, in a virtuous cycle:

https://securityledger.com/2019/03/opinion-my-grandfathers-john-deere-would-support-our-right-to-repair/

But this pattern is even more pronounced in the digital world, because it's much easier to update a digital service than it is to update all the tractors in the field, especially if that service is cloud-based, meaning you can modify the back-end everyone is instantly updated. The most celebrated example of this co-creation is Twitter, whose users created a host of its core features.

Retweets, for example, were a user creation. Users who saw something they liked on the service would type "RT" and paste the text and the link into a new tweet composition window. Same for quote-tweets: users copied the URL for a tweet and pasted it in below their own commentary. Twitter designers observed this user innovation and formalized it, turning it into part of Twitter's core feature-set.

Companies are obsessed with discovering digital desire paths. They pay fortunes for analytics software to produce maps of how their users interact with their services, run focus groups, even embed sneaky screen-recording software into their web-pages:

https://www.wired.com/story/the-dark-side-of-replay-sessions-that-record-your-every-move-online/

This relentless surveillance of users is pursued in the name of making things better for them: let us spy on you and we'll figure out where your pain-points and friction are coming from, and remove those. We all win!

But this impulse is a world apart from the humility and respect implied by co-innovation. The constant, nonconsensual observation of users has more to do with controlling users than learning from them.

That is, after all, the ethos of modern technology: the more control a company can exert over its users ,the more value it can transfer from those users to its shareholders. That's the key to enshittification, the ubiquitous platform decay that has degraded virtually all the technology we use, making it worse every day:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/19/twiddler/

When you are seeking to control users, the desire paths they create are all too frequently a means to wrestling control back from you. Take advertising: every time a service makes its ads more obnoxious and invasive, it creates an incentive for its users to search for "how do I install an ad-blocker":

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/07/adblocking-how-about-nah

More than half of all web-users have installed ad-blockers. It's the largest consumer boycott in human history:

https://doc.searls.com/2023/11/11/how-is-the-worlds-biggest-boycott-doing/

But zero app users have installed ad-blockers, because reverse-engineering an app requires that you bypass its encryption, triggering liability under Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act. This law provides for a $500,000 fine and a 5-year prison sentence for "circumvention" of access controls:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/12/youre-holding-it-wrong/#if-dishwashers-were-iphones

Beyond that, modifying an app creates liability under copyright, trademark, patent, trade secrets, noncompete, nondisclosure and so on. It's what Jay Freeman calls "felony contempt of business model":

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

This is why services are so horny to drive you to install their app rather using their websites: they are trying to get you to do something that, given your druthers, you would prefer not to do. They want to force you to exit through the gift shop, you want to carve a desire path straight to the parking lot. Apps let them mobilize the law to literally criminalize those desire paths.

An app is just a web-page wrapped in enough IP to make it a felony to block ads in it (or do anything else that wrestles value back from a company). Apps are web-pages where everything not forbidden is mandatory.

Seen in this light, an app is a way to wage war on desire paths, to abandon the cooperative model for co-innovation in favor of the adversarial model of user control and extraction.

Corporate apologists like to claim that the proliferation of apps proves that users like them. Neoliberal economists love the idea that business as usual represents a "revealed preference." This is an intellectually unserious tautology: "you do this, so you must like it":

https://boingboing.net/2024/01/22/hp-ceo-says-customers-are-a-bad-investment-unless-they-can-be-made-to-buy-companys-drm-ink-cartridges.html

Calling an action where no alternatives are permissible a "preference" or a "choice" is a cheap trick – especially when considered against the "preferences" that reveal themselves when a real choice is possible. Take commercial surveillance: when Apple gave Ios users a choice about being spied on – a one-click opt of of app-based surveillance – 96% of users choice no spying:

https://arstechnica.com/gadgets/2021/05/96-of-us-users-opt-out-of-app-tracking-in-ios-14-5-analytics-find/

But then Apple started spying on those very same users that had opted out of spying by Facebook and other Apple competitors:

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

Neoclassical economists aren't just obsessed with revealed preferences – they also love to bandy about the idea of "moral hazard": economic arrangements that tempt people to be dishonest. This is typically applied to the public ("consumers" in the contemptuous parlance of econospeak). But apps are pure moral hazard – for corporations. The ability to prohibit desire paths – and literally imprison rivals who help your users thwart those prohibitions – is too tempting for companies to resist.

The fact that the majority of web users block ads reveals a strong preference for not being spied on ("users just want relevant ads" is such an obvious lie that doesn't merit any serious discussion):

https://www.iccl.ie/news/82-of-the-irish-public-wants-big-techs-toxic-algorithms-switched-off/

Giant companies attained their scale by learning from their users, not by thwarting them. The person using technology always knows something about what they need to do and how they want to do it that the designers can never anticipate. This is especially true of people who are unlike those designers – people who live on the other side of the world, or the other side of the economic divide, or whose bodies don't work the way that the designers' bodies do:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/20/benevolent-dictators/#felony-contempt-of-business-model

Apps – and other technologies that are locked down so their users can be locked in – are the height of technological arrogance. They embody a belief that users are to be told, not heard. If a user wants to do something that the designer didn't anticipate, that's the user's fault:

https://www.wired.com/2010/06/iphone-4-holding-it-wrong/

Corporate enthusiasm for prohibiting you from reconfiguring the tools you use to suit your needs is a declaration of the end of history. "Sure," John Deere execs say, "we once learned from farmers by observing how they modified their tractors. But today's farmers are so much stupider and we are so much smarter that we have nothing to learn from them anymore."

Spying on your users to control them is a poor substitute asking your users their permission to learn from them. Without technological self-determination, preferences can't be revealed. Without the right to seize the means of computation, the desire paths never emerge, leaving designers in the dark about what users really want.

Our policymakers swear loyalty to "innovation" but when corporations ask for the right to decide who can innovate and how, they fall all over themselves to create laws that let companies punish users for the crime of contempt of business-model.

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

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/2024/01/24/everything-not-mandatory/#is-prohibited

Image: Belem (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Desire_path_%2819811581366%29.jpg

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

[bvidzsoo]

A world in your colours

𐀔 Cherry Blossom, March Event 𐀔

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Daycare teacher!Kang Yeosang x Florist!reader

𐀔 Warning: none 𐀔 Word count: 6.2k 𐀔 Rating: sfw 𐀔 Genre: fluff, soulmates: you see all the colours for the first time when you meet your soulmate, strangers to lovers, fated together 𐀔 Summary: A world through the faint hues of your soulmate's eye colour isn't the most colourful life to live. Approaching twenty-five and still being unable to see all the colours the world has to offer has you worried that you'll never meet your soulmate. Doubts and questions riddle your mind day and night, but at least you have the one thing that makes you happy no matter what, your little flowers. You can't actually see their colours, but you can imagine their vibrancy. And then, one day when you're making a bouquet for a lovely man, your whole world gets covered in an overwhelming amount of colour, rendering you stunned.

A/N: Here it is, our lovely Yeosang's drabble. I love this guy and I love this little fluffy story, man, I was smiling so widely while writing these two, they are so endearing. Despite writing a florist!au...I cannot take care of my plants for the life of me, even though I really love them...especially pretty little flowers, but oh, well, I'll have to get better at taking care of them once I move out...I hope you enjoy this drabble and let me know what you thought of it, your feedback is much appreciated! Enjoy! ^^ divider @cromernet

𐀔 Join the taglist here! 𐀔

Taglist: @thecarnivaloflies @faeriehwa @mingiatz @kang-ulzzang @xylatox

@mintchocolatto @mintsugarr93 @solaris-amethyst @foxinnie8 @marvolos

@licityvibes @amoryeonjun @nkryuki @matchahintonagar @k1ttym0nkey

@justconniez @ateezswonderland @lemonkait00 @youcanstayalways @cristy-101

@my-atiny-kookie-rkive @wooyouz @cosmicrecs

            Colour, as defined by everyone’s best friend, Wikipedia, is the visual perception based on the electromagnetic spectrum. Although colour is not a fundamental attribute of matter itself, the way we perceive it is intricately tied to how an object absorbs, reflects, and emits light, as well as the subtle play of interference within those light waves. That was another sentence you had long ago read on the internet, and it stuck with you. Your peers have always considered you a bit strange for your obsession with colours, but then again, in a world that was painted mostly grey with hues of brown, amber, and copper, you couldn’t help but obsess over it. It wasn’t by choice that you couldn’t see all colours…if it were up to you, you’d coat your whole life in nothing but a mess of bright and light pastels. You sighed at the reoccurring thought as you walked over to another plastic vase to grab a purple Lily to add to the bouquet. You double-checked the label before grabbing it, though; you didn’t need another embarrassing incident today.

The sole reason as to why you couldn’t see colours yet was because you hadn’t met your soulmate yet. In a way, it was something you were glad for because you’d know for sure who your soulmate was. You’ve read stories written by famous novelists who fantasized about a world where your soulmate's first words directed at you would be inked into your skin, and you wondered whether that felt as magical as the author made it seem. What if five different people said the same exact words to you that were on your wrist? What then? How would you decide which was your soulmate? You didn’t like thinking about that, though, content with the reality of your world. Sure, it was a bit depressing and quite literally grey, but it also brought a sense of excitement and anticipation with it. Whenever you allowed yourself to fantasize about the moment when you’d meet your soulmate, your cheeks would burn hot, and your heart would race. You’d close your eyes and try to imagine all the vibrant colours that suddenly coloured your surroundings.

You figured it would feel overwhelming at first, making you sentimental or sending you into a panicked sobbing. You thought it would blind you and make you feel nauseous as all the colours would be suddenly as vivid as an explosion in the distance that was now right under your nose. You thought you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself anymore, that you’d need a second to piece your thoughts back together, to make sense of the situation, to tell yourself that everything was okay. That’s how you imagined you’d react, but you were always a person full of surprises, even to yourself. Besides, diving too deep into this topic always leaves you with a sour aftertaste. You were twenty-five, and your world was still gloomy, devoid of the warmth and brightness everyone around you gushed about. It wasn’t unusual to be still single by twenty-five, but most people have found their soulmates back in high school. Your parents, for example, were even luckier than that and met in middle school; their worlds suddenly filled with all colours. You were jealous of them, but you also admired them profoundly.

Their love was deep and unlike anything you’d seen before. Their respect for each other went even deeper than their love, kindness and devotion, just a few sentiments that could be added to their plate when cherishing one another. You wished for a gentle love like theirs, for quiet moments where no words had to be uttered to be understood, for genuine kindness and laughter that filled the longing in your chest. You smiled at your customer as you tied her bouquet together, getting an excited grin back in return.

“Oh, this is gorgeous!” She exclaimed as you grabbed a little butterfly sticker, searching for the perfect leaf to press onto, “My little one will love this!”

You were happy that the mother was excited; seeing your clients excited and happy over the flowers you loved so much always filled your chest with warmth. You imagined being with your soulmate felt like that, too. You handed the bouquet over to the woman once you were done with it, accepting her card when she said she had no cash.

“I’ve never seen anyone combine these colours so beautifully before,” The woman mused to herself as her eyes took in the plethora of flowers, a mixture of white, yellow, pink and even a little bit of purple in there, “You’ve got an artistic eye for it.”

You felt proud at the praise as you handed the card back, grinning at the lady as you bowed your head in gratitude, “That’s a lovely compliment, thank you so much!”

You didn’t have the heart to tell the lady that you had no idea what the flowers looked like in colour, whether the pink bow you’d tied to keep the bouquet together matched with the flowers you had chosen. The lady left soon after as she was in a rush, and you sighed, looking around the flower shop. You could tell the walls were a lighter orange, the shades a dark brown and probably your soulmate’s exact eye colour since the colour was so rich in hue. You’ve always wondered if the other colours were just as beautiful as the ones you could lightly see from time to time—or more pronounced if they were the same colour as your soulmate’s eyes—and your conclusion had always been that, yes, no matter what nuance or hue, all of it was just as gorgeous.

You thought of colours as you thought of flowers, special and unique in their ways, distinguishable and rather easy to remember once you learned their properties. Flowers have been your escape since a young age when your preschool teacher tasked you with growing little beans, encouraging you to name them and speak to them daily. After that, you had asked your parents whether you could try and cultivate your little garden in your room, and once they’ve given you the go, you had never turned back. The flower shop that you were working at wasn’t yours just yet, but its owner—a lovely middle-aged woman—was considering passing it on to you once she had grown old and tired of her business. You’d gladly take over it as you had no big plans for your future. You were content living in the place you had been born, surrounded by friends and family. You realised you were luckier than most that you could live a comfortable and fulfilled life, and that’s why you always made sure to give back to your community, even if it was something little.

You were just about to walk over to the vase with sunflowers when the doorbell chimed, signalling a new customer. You plastered a small smile to your lips and straightened your back, welcoming the man who had decided to walk inside your store, “Hello, how may I help you?”

“Hi, uhm, it’s my mother’s birthday today.” The man spoke, surprising you with his deep voice. His features were soft and relaxed; it was an unexpected juxtaposition, “Her favourite flowers are Magnolias; do you have any of that?”

You nodded your head, walking over to the vase placed right by the entrance. They were fresh as they had come in just today, so they were gorgeous as they were in bloom, “Silk Magnolias are mostly used for bridal bouquets, but I can make you a simpler one if you want me to.”

“I’d love that, please.” The man said as you two looked at each other, and for some unexplainable reason, your heart skipped a beat. You averted your eyes shily and crouched down to grab three Magnolias, your long skirt brushing past your ankles.

“They go well with Gardenias; would you like me to add some of those too?” You stood back up, realising that since the bouquet would be all white, you could add a deep red coloured ribbon to it, or perhaps even a soft pink one. The challenge, however, would be to find the right nuances since your coworker messed up some of the colours after her shift. You’d be embarrassed to ask the man for a little guidance, and that would be also you assuming that he had found his soulmate already, which would be a bit rude as you didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable. Due to you being unable to see all colours, everything inside the store was labelled with little post-it notes, bold letters stating the colour of the flowers. With that also came the shelf behind the front counter always being organised after a system that you had already memorised, no need to read the labels anymore. All ribbons and coloured foils were placed in their designated spot so that you’d know which one was which colour, but your coworker had mixed up the black and blue ones, resulting in you embarrassing yourself not even half an hour ago when a customer asked for blue ribbons and you had given them black ones. You quickly fixed your mistake, and the man wasn’t even upset, but your cheeks still burned with shame as now the man knew you still hadn’t met your destined partner.

“Uh, if you think it’ll be pretty, sure.” The man said, walking to the counter as you went behind it to organise the bouquet for him, “May I ask…what colour it’ll be?”

You froze for a second before you hummed, going over to the Gardenias to grab two of them, “White, if that’s alright.”

The man nodded eagerly, letting his green briefcase rest on the counter where it didn’t invade your space, “That’ll be perfect, my mother loves the colour white.”

You smiled as you glanced up at the man, and somehow it seemed as if the sunrays shining through the window were brighter, creating a white haze around him. He looked really pretty with his curly hair falling over his forehead, curling around his cheekbones, and you noted its copper hue with slight admiration. Afraid you were starting to stare, you lowered your eyes and started working on the man’s bouquet. You first made sure all the flowers were fresh and in perfect shape, undamaged by transport, and then cut into the ends a bit. Then you held the Magnolias together, arranging the Gardenias in between and adding a few dark green weeds for a better aesthetic. The handle of the tape was almost black, and you found yourself humming a melody as you taped the flowers together just until you’d tied the ribbon around it. You pulled the bouquet away from your face and felt the customer’s eyes on your face, almost insistent, but you kept working with a small smile on your face, catching a glance at your bright orange nails. You remembered your mother saying that colour might be a bit too bright, but since you couldn’t see it well as it was dulled to your eyes, you decided to still go for it. It was fun, after all.

You turned then and looked at the shelf behind you, tilting your head in wonder. There was the blue ribbon that had embarrassed you earlier, small white dots decorating the fabric, and you found it cute how the pastel colours blended nicely together. You glossed over the black and blue ribbons, they wouldn’t make the white pop right now. You needed something intense and eye-catching—like the burgundy fabric that would look gorgeous in contrast with the white flowers! You grinned triumphantly and grabbed it off the shelf, turning around to tie it tightly around the bouquet, making sure the flowers didn’t move while you worked on making the perfect bow, not too small nor too big. Your chest felt warm, and you were aware of your cheeks burning, but you couldn’t decide whether it had gotten warmer inside the shop or if it was the man’s eyes following your every move that made you feel shy. Nonetheless, you smiled brightly as you raised the bouquet and extended it towards the man. His eyes were slightly wide as they frantically searched your face, and you felt a little disheartened as you couldn’t decipher what his reaction meant. Was your bouquet really that gorgeous, or did he perhaps not like it and wasn’t sure how to voice his thoughts?

“Oh,” You muttered, eyebrows slightly raised as you glanced at the man’s burgundy red hair and then at the ribbon, “The ribbon matches your hair! What a coincidence…”

Your smile froze on your face, your heart stilling in your chest. The ribbon matches your hair, kept repeating in your head like a distant echo as your fingers slightly trembled, your eyes running all over the man in a panic. He was taller than you, a bit buff underneath his dark green suit, tailored to fit his body prettily. His necktie was a light orange, a lighter shade that still matched his beautifully dyed hair, his lips a cherry red much like the small heart-shaped discolouration on his left temple. Your breath stuttered in your chest as your hands fell to the counter, mindful of the bouquet in your hands still.

“You’re…”

“I am.” The man sounded just as winded as you did, a huff of disbelief leaving his mouth, “Your socks are so bright, they match your nail colour.”

Your bottom lip trembled as you laughed, looking down at your socks that peeked out from underneath your skirt. They were bright, really bright actually, a neon colour worse than your nails. You had no idea you even owned them, and you wondered why your mother had never said anything about them.

“The bouquet will be 15€.” You said as you typed the amount into the cash register, and the man nodded, opening his dark green briefcase.

“Right, thank you so much.” The man said, fumbling with his wallet as he opened it, pressing the crumpled-up money on the counter. He reached out for the bouquet but hesitated slightly, and you averted your eyes as your fingers brushed together. You had a feeling it wasn’t by accident, given that the man’s cheeks also flushed pink, eyes abashed, “My mother will love it.”

“Happy birthday to your mother.” You found yourself saying as the man pressed his wallet into the small pocket of his suit jacket, briefcase in his firm grip. You didn’t want him to leave, not yet, but you couldn’t keep him here all day…it was his mother’s birthday, after all.

“I’ll come by tomorrow, same time as today. When does your shift end?” Your heart skipped a beat as the man stumbled into the open front door as he was walking backwards, his eyes not leaving you for one second. You chuckled and bit your bottom lip, playing with the money in your hands.

“I have the morning shift; I’ll be ready to go by the time you make it here.” The man’s lips pulled into a wide smile, lighting his whole face up. He looked gorgeous, and you felt breathless as you watched him wave at you and almost get stuck on the door handle, his cheeks flushing pink again as he finally left the store with haste. He glanced back inside through the huge window, and you told yourself to hold it together until you couldn’t see him anymore, and then came the squeals you could barely contain in front of him, your heart racing a mile. You had to take a seat and press your forehead against the cool counter, and even that didn’t help the warmth from spreading throughout your body as if winter was finally over and the first spring sun was here to warm you up from the inside out. That man was your soulmate. Your fingers trembled as you raised your head, blinking hard.

The world was so…different. Everything had colour, absolutely everything, and you didn’t know how to react to it all. The counter, which you thought was a light green or blue, was actually a cute beige colour, the stickers stuck to it a whirlwind of bright colours. You traced them before looking back up, eyes taking in all the beautiful flowers. You couldn’t believe that you could see the yellowness of the Sunflowers, a little taken back that they looked mustard coloured…or was that right? You hadn’t seen mustard yet, so you couldn’t tell; you’d have to test your theory out once you got home. The Lilies, the purple ones, left you in awe of their beauty, and you couldn’t help but walk over to the blue Orchids and trace their petals with a fond smile. You wondered who the man was as you looked out the window dreamily, your heart racing in your chest uncontrollably. He was a gorgeous person, and he also seemed kind; you couldn’t wish for tomorrow to come faster. You giggled to yourself and hurried back behind the counter, hands shaking as you dialled your boss in your excitement, too eager to tell her that you could see all the colour around you now.

            Your hands trembled as you clocked out, locking eyes with your grinning co-worker. She was a bouncing ball of nerves, even more excited than you over the fact that your soulmate was supposed to show up any time now. You chewed on your bottom lip and smoothed down your kaki long skirt, your black blouse thin so you had to cover up due to the morning chill. Your warm and long coat was a bright orange, and on your way home yesterday, you had realised that orange was slowly becoming your favourite colour. Judging based on your wardrobe, littered in colours you had no idea even existed, you had concluded that even unknowingly, your world had always been infused with colours. Your mother cried, and your father jumped around in happiness when you told them about this new development, right while having dinner, accidentally slipping up by saying sunflowers were definitely not mustard coloured. You had wanted to tell them in a cosier setting, perhaps in a cuter way too, but what was done was done. Your mother then made you call your grandmother, who was groggy since she was getting ready for bed, but the soft smile on her lips told you that she was just as happy for you as your parents, co-worker, and boss.

“What was your first impression of him?” Your co-worker smiled brightly at you, fiddling with a ribbon she had difficulty tying around the thick bouquet.

“He’s just…he seems very sweet and caring.” You heard yourself saying, chewing on your bottom lip as your eyes were glued to the huge window. He was supposed to be here a few minutes ago, but then again, he hadn’t specified an exact time when he’d stop by, “His features are really delicate, but he looks manly still. I love his hair, though; it’s so rich in colour.”

“What colour is it?” Your co-worker followed up with her question quickly, too invested to pay any attention to the bouquet she was supposed to finish in five minutes.

“Burgundy, and he has a matching—” You gasped, eyes widening as the man was here. He wore a tailored suit again, a beaver brown—you’d stayed up until a very late hour last night, researching colours and hues, shades and tones, trying to memorise them all in your rush of excitement—and his tie was a darker orange. Your heart was racing furiously as it felt impossible to look away; your eyes met when the man arrived by the door. His eyes were wide, and his cheeks slightly flushed a light pink colour, and you took a deep breath before you turned to wave at your co-worker. She looked stunned, eyes frozen on the man before her grin spread wider, ushering you out the shop with a squeal. It was embarrassing, but you were more preoccupied with walking straight without having your knees give out as you watched the man open the door for you.

“Thank you.” You lowered your eyes as he hummed, stepping aside to make space for you, “Hi…uhm, it’s lovely seeing you again?”

You wanted to facepalm yourself for making it sound like a question, but the man didn’t seem bothered as he chuckled, ducking his head. His suit jacket was nicely folded over his arm, his white shirt clinging to his body. It had gotten significantly warmer by noon, but you were someone who easily got cold, so you didn’t take your coat off.

“Hi, it’s really nice seeing you, yeah.” Then, the man cleared his throat and looked up with more confidence on his face, “I didn’t introduce myself yesterday. I was honestly too stunned to function properly. My name is Kang Yeosang.”

You extended your hand to shake Yeosang’s hand, your soulmate, and blushed when your skin made contact with his. His palm was bigger than yours, and his skin was really soft, but his grip was confident and strong without hurting you. You told him your name, and his eyes sparkled under the bright sunlight, and you felt yourself unable to look away. Yeosang was gorgeous; seldom did you see a man like him. It felt slightly surreal that he was your soulmate, and you felt extremely lucky all of a sudden. You didn’t know him yet, but something told you he was an amazing person.

“Where would you like us to go?” Yeosang’s question reminded you of the fact that you were still standing outside the flower shop, quite blocking the entrance actually, and you flushed darker when you realised your co-worker was most likely watching the two of you.

“Maybe for a stroll in the park just there?” You pointed across the street, the gates of the lovely park in the heart of the city visible. Yeosang nodded enthusiastically and motioned in front of himself as a way to tell you to lead the way. As you took off, you found yourself walking as close by Yeosang’s side as you could without making it weird, and your heart hadn’t stopped racing ever since you saw him. There was something magnetic about the man, about your soulmate, and you felt like you couldn’t last another day without being in his presence. Matter of fact, you didn’t want to be since you’ve waited twenty-five years for this moment.

“Would you like some coffee? Or tea?” Yeosang asked as you two noticed the small coffee stand at the same time and you hummed, looking at Yeosang a little sheepishly.

“I don’t like coffee, but I really like tea.” Yeosang chuckled, something like endearment appearing on his face as he grabbed your elbow gently and veered you away from the oncoming crowd of teenagers.

“That’s funny. I don’t like tea but basically live off of coffee.” You chuckled too, your eyes meeting as Yeosang walked you two over to the coffee stand. There weren’t a lot of tea options, so you settled for wild berries, glad that the vendor had some homemade honey for you to mix with your tea instead of sugar. Yeosang asked for a simple black coffee with ice, a bit of milk and one spoonful of sugar, and you found yourself reciting his order in your mind until you could recall it easily.

With your drinks in your hands, you headed for the crosswalk, having to wait since it was red for the pedestrians. The street was bustling with many people at this hour, and not everyone was as self-aware as you—and it seemed like Yeosang, too—so they either didn’t look where they walked or purposefully pushed people around to get further to the front. You had to make space for a guy on his phone, not paying even a little bit of attention to those around himself as you, too, could hear the music coming from his headphones. You tried to make space for everyone, but before you could step behind Yeosang, you felt fingers sneaking between yours, a warm palm pressed against yours as you were gently guided into Yeosang’s side. His eyes were still sparkling, his cheeks were red—not as red as the discolouration on his temple—and you thought for a second you could hear his rapidly beating heart.

“Is this okay?” He asked almost too quietly for you to hear with the honking cars and loudly conversing people, but you did catch it, and you nodded eagerly, making sure to squeeze Yeosang’s hand for extra confirmation.

“Yes! More than okay, actually.” You sounded more confident than you felt, and Yeosang was suddenly smiling widely, his cheeks pulled up and making him look the softest. Before you could do something as crazy as lean up and nuzzle your nose against his, the light turned green, and you followed the crowd, crossing the street. The walk to the park’s entrance was quiet, your hands fitting perfectly into each other’s, and you revelled in the comfort of it all as Yeosang occasionally glanced at you. The park wasn’t as packed as the sidewalks, and you could freely roam around without bumping into anyone, and yet, your hands stayed intertwined.

“So,” You spoke up, taking a sip of your tea before you faced Yeosang while walking, “What do you do for work? I’m a florist, but you know that much about me already.”

Yeosang hummed, facing you with that adorable small smile on his lips, “I’m a daycare teacher. The school isn’t far from here. You actually saved me yesterday. I was running late for my mother’s birthday dinner, and I thought there weren’t any flower shops close by.”

You chuckled, veering Yeosang away from the flock of birds that didn’t look too friendly, “Did your mother like the bouquet?”

“Yes, she loved it, thank you.” Yeosang then stopped, tilting his head with furrowed eyebrows, “I told them…my parents…that I found my soulmate, and they, well, uhm, they want to meet you. I know it’s too soon, and I asked them to wait a little bit until we’ve gotten to know each other, but they are just too impatient and excited to finally meet you.”

You felt your heart swell and almost burst out of your chest as your smile grew into a wide grin. You didn’t even realise it, but you had taken a step closer to Yeosang, smiling up at him so widely that your cheeks ached. Yeosang looked stunned for a second before he returned your smile, biting his lower lip as he averted his gaze down to the ground, “I’d love that, but I want to do what makes you feel comfortable. If you think we should wait, then we will; if not…just let me know when it’s good for you and your parents.”

Yeosang nodded, his eyes finding yours, “You are so kind.”

“You are too, Yeosang.” You chuckled, and it was your time to look down. Yeosang seemed to feel proud over that compliment before he took off, guiding the two of you through the park.

“I don’t feel like we are rushing, but I think it’s more responsible if we go on a few dates first.” You felt like a high school girl, wanting to squeal over the fact that you’d be going on dates with Yeosang, “My parents are nice people, but they are…well, they had gotten a bit desperate about me finding my soulmate. Honestly, they thought you were dead.”

Well, that thought had never crossed your mind before, but it definitely didn’t sit well with you as you looked at Yeosang with a frown. His expression looked neutral, but he squeezed your hand, “I’m twenty-seven, so they think I’m too old to be single. My parents’ families were close friends, so they’ve always known they are soulmates. They had it easy, so it was weird seeing their son struggle to find his soulmate.”

“Did it hurt you? That you sought me out without success for so long?” You found yourself asking, curious to know how Yeosang felt. He seemed to think for a second, humming as he looked down at his cup of coffee.

“It was frustrating at first, mostly because my parents were also pressuring me.” He looked at you from the corner of his eyes, then shrugged, “Then I realised I wouldn’t find you faster if I made myself mull over it, so I just let it go. Since we are fated to be together, I realised I couldn’t trick fate and quicken the process.”

You hummed in agreement, realising you’ve had a similar mindset to Yeosang’s for the past one or two years, “I’m twenty-five and had lost hope at some point. My parents, similar to yours, met very early on, in middle school. I thought I’d also find my soulmate around that time, and when it didn’t happen, I thought it would come in high school…but then that didn’t happen either, and I felt disheartened, like something was wrong with me. And then I realised I can’t push something that isn’t meant to happen just yet.”

“I’m sorry I made you wait.” Yeosang’s answer was quick, his hand squeezing yours as your eyebrows furrowed.

“Don’t apologise, the wait was worth it in the end.” You giggled, averting your eyes shily.

“Yeah?” Yeosang sounded surprised, perhaps even a bit cocky, “You think so?”

“I think that you’re very handsome, Yeosang, and soft.” There was no reason to be embarrassed in front of your soulmate, certainly not when it came to complimenting him, “You have an aura of kindness and brightness around you; I think it’s everything I wanted in a partner.”

Yeosang was smiling widely again, nodding his head as he became shy once again, “You’re cute and vibrant; your smile makes my heart race. I’m thankful that you are my soulmate.”

You stopped walking, the sudden urge to hug Yeosang wasn’t something you could control, so you threw your arms around his torso and leaned into him, smiling to yourself as your head landed on his shoulder. Yeosang’s arms were quick to go around you, squeezing you into himself, and you realised he smelled like oranges and fresh grass, refreshing and calming. You loved the fresh smell of nature, and you loved Yeosang’s natural fragrance. You heard a chuckle, and suddenly something was plucked out of your hair, making your eyebrows furrow as you slightly pulled back, looking at Yeosang’s hand. A dry leaf was between his fingers, his expression amused.

“You’re like a garden fairy, do bees gravitate towards you during summer?” You laughed and shook your head, feeling a bit embarrassed as Yeosang pocketed the leaf instead of letting it fall to the ground. Your cheeks burned as you two let go of each other, fingers naturally intertwining as you headed for a bench, “Why did you choose to become a florist?”

You sat down on the bench, facing each other, and Yeosang’s knee brushed lightly against your thigh. You held your cup of tea in both hands, playing with it as you looked down in your lap, “Well, I just really love nature. I’ve always felt at ease around my little plants in my room, and then I realised I just really love flowers. They are so beautiful and tender, you have to nurture them and take care of them as if they were human. I feel like I have a connection to nature; it’s like I can be completely myself around all that beauty—and the colours! Oh, I love their colours, they are so gorgeous! I’m so glad you walked into the shop yesterday. I had no idea I was missing out on—so much!”

Yeosang watched with fascination on his face as you spoke, a little overexcited that he wanted to hear your hobbies and likes. It was only normal; you’d have to gradually get to know each other, yet it still felt surreal that the sky was an almost transparent blue, the clouds completely white, the barks of the trees various shades of brown, the grass so green, all the leaves, and all the colourful flowers. You loved seeing all the colour on people, too, how they expressed themselves by their outfits, all the colours inside buildings and outside. You’d have to buy some more colourful furniture for your room since it’s mostly beige and yellow. You wanted to cover your world in the colours of the rainbow, in every possible hue and shade.

“Yes, the world is so…intense now, vibrant. It’s impressive how I could live without it all.” Yeosang’s deep voice was soft and quiet as if he was speaking to himself, “I like being in nature, surrounded by wildlife, away from the noisy city. We could go on hikes and maybe even camping.”

You nodded eagerly, having fond memories of the hikes you had gone on with your friends and family, “I’d really love that, Yeosang. I’ve always wanted to go camping, but my parents don’t like bugs, so we never stayed out after nightfall.”

Both you and Yeosang laughed at that, and then you were eager to learn too about Yeosang, “I imagine you love children since you are a daycare teacher; how did you realise that?”

“It’s nothing too revolutionary,” Yeosang chuckled, finishing his cup of coffee, “I would babysit for our neighbours when I was a teenager, and then my cousin had a baby brother, and I’d spend a lot of time with them. As I was growing up, I realised I was fond of those little ones, so…it just happened, I guess.”

You nodded, understanding him, “Would you want children?”

The answer was obvious to that, but you still wanted to ask, “Definitely, if you’d also like to have children, of course.”

Your whole face flushed, and you coughed, a little taken off-guard by Yeosang’s direct answer. His eyebrows raised and his ears flushed, and suddenly he was stumbling over his words, “I mean—like, whoever is my partner, I care about that! You know, like, whatever my partner wants—whether it’s you or someone else, not that I’m thinking of anyone else—but I’m just…yeah, I think that was too soon, wasn’t it?”

He was adorable, you had to shield your mouth with your hand as you laughed quietly, shaking your head at Yeosang, “I mean, since we are soulmates, I don’t think any topic is too soon, Yeosang.”

“Yeah?” Yeosang asked, not quite looking at you yet, “Right, I mean, sure, that makes sense.”

Comfortable silence settled over the two of you, and you picked a stray string off Yeosang’s knee. He watched you quietly, taking in your serene expression, and your eyes met as you raised your head. You smiled at Yeosang without saying anything for a second, then chuckled, this whole situation feeling unreal. Just yesterday, your whole world was covered in grey and hues of brown, amber and copper—and now, your soulmate sat next to you on a bench, the world infused with so much colour you still weren’t used to it, and to top it off, your soulmate was kind and loving, good with children and soft-spoken despite his uncharacteristically deep voice. His face was gentle, his features almost as if they were sculpted by Greek Gods, his burgundy hair even curlier than yesterday as it was pinned back by a little pink bow, and it made you wonder if it was a child from the daycare that had placed it there. Yeosang’s expression looked a bit baffled as you continued to stare at him without saying a word, and not wanting to look weird, you spoke up, “I’m just admiring you because I cannot believe you are real.”

A surprised gasp left Yeosang’s lips at your words, and he didn’t shy away this time, leaning forward to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You grinned as he caressed your cheek, his palm warm and his skin soft, and for a second, you forgot there was anyone else in the world beside the two of you, “I’m as real as it can be, and I’m here to stay, by your side, for an eternity, Y/N.”

And your heart skipped another beat hearing his words, your body freezing when Yeosang suddenly started leaning towards you. You were ready, if he wanted to kiss you, then you wanted to feel his plush lips against yours. Your eyes fluttered closed as it felt like your heart was in your throat, but instead of kissing your lips, you felt something warm press against your cheek, underneath your left eye, then your right eye, and it felt more intimate than any other kiss. You bit your bottom lip and opened your eyes, staring deeply into Yeosang’s rich brown ones, an almost red-like hue licking around his irises.

“Would you like to spend the rest of your day with me, Yeosang?”

“I don’t think I want to spend any time away from you from now on, Y/N.”

And you knew in your heart, in your whole being, that the future ahead of you two was bright, vibrant, gentle, and so, so colourful.

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY & BVIDZSOO 2025 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating our work is not allowed.

[mylittleredgirl]

one of the rats i took in is named socks, same as the clintons’ white house cat, so i thought i could source names for the others that way

and now my favorite wikipedia article is the list of presidential pets

did you know:

andrew jackson had a parrot named Poll who attended jackson's funeral... but had to be removed for screaming profanity

"Fido" became the default dog name because of lincoln's dog fido, and i am definitely naming my next dog fido because we need to bring that back

andrew johnson had no pets of his own but fed the mice in the presidential bedroom

there were a few dogs named Hector and Caruso over the years, which is not notable except that i really like those names for rat purposes.

hands down the best name is a snake named Emily Spinach

many pets named for the political process, in escalating order of hilarity: Veto (good solid sounding dog name), President (definitely named for joke potential), possums named Mr. Reciprocity and Mr. Protection (not qualities especially noted in possums; named for the republican party platform of the day) and a pair of lion cubs named Tax Reduction and Budget Bureau.

calvin coolidge was the one to name Tax Reduction and Budget Bureau. his presidential successor was Herbert Hoover who came to the white house with "Mr. Cat - a cat."

the only rat in the list is named jonathan (and he was a piebald/hooded rat like socks, so the rat who started this wikipedia dive may need to be renamed after all)

"Rebecca – raccoon. Rebecca was intended for a Thanksgiving feast; First Lady Grace had a tree-house built for her instead."

Fala, FDR's scottish terrier, seems to be the most famous presidential pet in history and has a longer wikipedia page than most people. he is credited with helping FDR win re-election, and is even immortalized in FDR's memorial statue. in fact, fala was so popular with american soldiers that they used "what's the name of the president's dog?" as a field test in WWII if they suspected a german soldier had snuck into their ranks.

lyndon johnson had two beagles named Him and Her

Pushinka, daughter of russian space dogs, instrument of world peace

amy carter named her cat Misty Malarky Ying Yang, and good for her for making newspapers print a made-up-song-about-your-cat kind of name.

ronald reagan had a fish named Ronald Reagan II

both FDR and joe biden had german shepherds named Major who had to be "removed from the premises for biting incidents."

the funniest name here isn't even a pet, it's "Zebulon Pike," the guy who gave thomas jefferson a pair of grizzly bear cubs. pike's peak is named for him. there aren't nearly enough babies named zebulon today.

FDR and Fala immortalized.

[luimnigh]

So I stumbled onto an interesting Wikipedia page today.

In the aftermath of 9/11, iHeartRadio (then Clear Channel Communications), circulated a list among it's radio stations of songs they were advised against playing.

And a lot of these do make sense. Songs about airplanes, explosions, violence, falling... yeah, no, I get that stuff. Completely understandable to avoid them.

However, there's also plenty of stuff on the list that's questionable.

For some, I just have no idea what the connection is. Green Day's Brain Stew (a song about insomnia), Metallica's Enter Sandman, The Hollies' He Ain't Heavy He's My Brother, Alanis Morrisette's Ironic... All of those seem like they shouldn't have anything objectionable.

There also seemed to be a ban on mentioning New York? Like, okay, AC/DC's Safe In New York City would be in poor taste, but Frank Sinatra's New York, New York is practically the city's anthem. Feels weird to ban that.

But there's also some stuff that, looking back, is absolutely a political choice.

To begin with, they banned the entire discography of Rage Against The Machine. Which, yeah, that's a choice.

They also banned The Bangles' Walk Like An Egyptian, and The Clash's Rock The Casbah, which appear to have been excluded purely based on their references to the Middle East. The banning of Neil Diamond's America (a pro-immigration song) also feels incredibly suspect.

But the reason I ended up on this Wikipedia page in the first place is that I was looking up a song, and it's page mentioned it was one of the banned songs:

War, by Edwin Starr.

You know the one:

War! Hoo! Yeah!

What is it good for?

Absolutely nothing!

Telling stations not to play one of the most famous anti-war songs at a time where America's leadership, and a large chunk of the American populace, was chomping at the bit to illegally invade multiple countries and destabilise the entire region based on flimsy evidence?

Absolutely a politically motivated choice. And an act of moral cowardice.

[fuck-customers]

insane how many asks this blog gets complaining about smokers in the most entitled way possible. i get that cigarettes are an unpleasant smell but you don’t gotta be such an ass about it. not to mention addiction is a struggle and cigarettes are incredibly popular in the working class because it can offer stress relief or a break when you otherwise wouldn’t get one. my coworkers smoke in the bathroom cus we can’t get out of the building without going thru security and i couldn’t give less of a shit, honestly i respect it. whatever helps you get thru the day in this hellscape is fine by me if it doesn’t hurt anyone. also your health problems are absolutely not your coworkers responsibility, unless they’re blowing smoke directly in your face grow the fuck up, step away, or request to not work near them if it’s seriously that bad. acting like everyone who dares to smoke a cigarette is a scum of the earth dirtbag is straight up childish, you can acknowledge negative aspects of smoking without building yourself a victim complex it’s really not that hard. then again this is the website of asthmatics and celibates so why am i surprised

Looks like someones diaper is on a bit tight today huh?

Let me explain why. When you are a constant smoker or live with a constant smoker you lose the ability to smell it. Its called "Olfactory fatigue". It is not just like a bad smell, it's like getting hit with a 18 wheeler of bad smell.

For those of us that no longer live with smokers and or those that don't know anyone that smokes, smelling it can cause physical illness to the point of vomiting. For others (like myself) it will give an instant asthma attack.

On a personal note the last smoker that insisted on getting in my face put me in the hospital for 2 days. So I will not allow myself to be near it. I have no living family left as they ALL have died from smoking related illnesses (mostly cancer).

To non smokers it's like if we insisted on walking up to people covered in sunk assholes and expect everyone to just be cool with it.

-Rodney

P.S.

[seat-safety-switch]

Every hobby has some weirdo that takes things way too far. Whenever I find myself somewhere that can be easily described as "nerd-like" but unfamiliar, I always seek out the biggest nerd in the building. Often, they will lead me down the golden path of separating several hundred dollars from my wallet in an attempt to find a part of human accomplishment that Wikipedia won't even write about anymore.

The other day, I was at a parking lot, trying to change my rear differential, when I heard a strange noise. Thinking it was private security, I began to panic. However, nobody arrived in a Chevrolet Cruze to harass me about my God-given right to leak 75W90 on private property that is connected to a major roadway, pig. Instead, some strange vans and cars appeared, and with them a stranger noise.

Within minutes, the occupants of those vehicles had dispersed onto the tarmac and began speaking a strange, alien language. Amps. Watts. Decibels. You guessed it, folks: I was dealing with car stereo nerds. In this community, they have working radios in their cars, and they use them to make a louder noise than the next person. Hoping to avoid social interaction, I continued with my axle-swapping, but soon tired of the physical labour inherent in the ordeal. Perhaps one of these folks would help out, if I pretended to be interested in why their windows kept flexing.

Let me tell you this: audio is a complete rabbit hole. It's a cliche that you've never heard music until you've heard it on good speakers, sure, but I certainly had never heard a Supertramp CD with my sternum before. The fact that the amplifier then caught on fire thrilled me even more. After the fire was put out, I could wait no longer. I took another car (parked nearby – always bring a spare) to the thrift store and paid almost thirty bucks for a set of speakers. Today, the quality of the AM farm report (FM radio is a fad) sounded better than ever before. Perhaps there was something to this hobby, I thought. Gives you more projects to not fix, which is what life is all about.

[cripplecharacters]

Hello! Hi. Hope you guys are doing well. I wanted to ask about referring (pretty blatantly) to autistic characters before autism was a formal diagnosis. One of my characters is nonverbal and autistic and communicates primarily using a notepad (in the Victorian era). Her family (positively coded characters) doesn’t really care or like think negatively of her for being autistic, but they still recognize that she’s not neurotypical, however other characters who appear (not the villains necessarily but negatively coded characters) do care that she’s “abnormal”. Are there any words that really shouldn’t be used to describe her (I have been using ‘odd’ by both groups of characters) or that only one group should use (for example having the ‘mean’ characters use ‘abnormal’ but the ‘nice’ ones use ‘odd’) so I can clearly specify that she is autistic and that it’s not a big deal, while also making sure that the characters who think negatively are portrayed in a negative light (even though they’re not the main villains). While still, not offending anyone or accidentally referring to the character in a pejorative light.

Hi asker,

I'm including some extra context, not just for you the writer, about the Victorian era but also to anyone else reading this ask to learn a little more and maybe be able to apply information to their own characters as well.

The Victorian era is used to refer to the period roughly from 1820 to 1910 in the UK, and often the use of this word for the time is extended to the US as well. Sometimes people use it for other places in Europe, even though Queen Victoria herself only ruled the UK and from 1837 until 1901.

Your character might have been described as 'dumb' or 'mute,' at the time, since she does not speak; for both clarity and reason's sake I would avoid using 'dumb' and only use 'mute' instead. 'Dumb' is, these days, only used as an insult.

Other words people might use for her in the time to denote her as being 'strange' but not necessarily negative might have been (aside from 'strange' and 'odd' that you've already stated): peculiar, eccentric, or unusual. They might use 'queer' as well, as in behaving outside of the norm and not as in gay; that meaning was more by the 1920s.

'Weird' as in "off-puttingly strange" is a more modern word, but it started in the 1820s, so people could conceivably call her weird, especially if they mean to speak ill of her. 'Bizarre' might work, but earlier or in its usage it also had a connotation of unpredictability, too. These two would probably not be used by her family or those who think highly of her, but might be used by people who are fairly neutral on her.

A note on 'moron' and 'imbecile,' which were diagnoses in the early 19th century of intellectual disability but also applied to other people they didn't know how to categorize and could include autistic people: they are definitely used as insults now and were definitely used as insults then when they were diagnoses, but they wouldn't be used on your character because they were not used in that way until the 1910s and 1920s. 'Idiot' is an older word, but it usually was used to refer to people who had more severe intellectual disability; I don't think this would be used for your character much, nor would I recommend it. I don't think it would work to convey what you want the readers to get out of it. Not to mention, it's still very much an insult today.

Now, there's two people from a bit earlier in history who might have been diagnosed as autistic today: Henry Cavendish and Hugh Blair of Borgue. (Obviously we can't know for sure, they've been dead for 200+ years.)

Hugh Blair (wikipedia link) lived from 1708 to 1765. He was described as 'eccentric' and 'daft,' and his behaviors as 'unusual.' He was nicknamed "the daft lad of Borgue." He engaged in a lot of repetitive behaviors, seemed unaware of social norms, and had very strong interests. It's noted that despite being seen as strange, he was generally well-liked.

Henry Cavendish (wikipedia link) lived from 1731 to 1810, so a bit closer to the Victorian era. He was a scientist, a very wealthy man, and notably very shy. He was close basically only to his family, was very solitary, had trouble speaking to others and was noted as wearing old-fashioned clothes. Since he was so solitary, he had trouble publishing his findings, even though he put a lot of work into them. It seems people referred to him as 'solitary' and 'eccentric.'

Some people suggest Emily Dickinson (wikipedia link), who lived from 1830 to 1886, might have been autistic. I am less familiar with her than the above two, but am including her because she is directly in your time period so the way people in her lifetime described her can be relevant. She was very socially isolated, although she was also very affected by deaths around her during her life, and later often ill, which can also be reasons for isolation. She mostly communicated with others via letters in her adulthood. She was seen as an 'eccentric' by others.

I will note that all three of those people were wealthy, so their eccentricities were more tolerated by those around them. A poor person might not have been afforded that second thought.

Now that I've said... all that, I will add my final note:

I think more important than the words themselves is how other characters use the words to describe her.

"Elizabeth is such an odd woman, I should like to write to her and see what she thinks about this" is very different from "Elizabeth is such an odd woman, I can't stand to be around her when she's doing that!" So is "My cousin is a bit peculiar, she does not speak but she can understand you just fine; if you can be patient she will write out her answers" versus "My cousin is incredibly peculiar, she doesn't even speak for goodness's sake! Can you believe it? It's ridiculous."

The way your characters speak about her will not be entirely dependent on the specific words the use, but also in the way they describe her and refer to her. Especially in a time where many things are referred to with euphemisms or vague words (which 'odd' and 'strange' and 'peculiar' definitely are or can be), which the Victorian era absolutely was, both groups of characters can use the same words but their intent can come across due to what else they say about her.

Sorry this is super long, but I hope it helps!

mod sparrow

[trainsinanime]

Trains in Miraculous Ladybug - The Season 6 Tram

Part 1: The Metro Train

Part 2: The Metro Station

Part 3: Startrain

Part 4: The Gare du Nord

Part 5: The Bus

It's a new season, and we got a new art style, new trains, buses, cars, villains and anxieties in the world of Miraculous Ladybug! Mostly trains, of course!

At the end of season 6, the right person got elected mayor, which immediately transformed Paris into a wonderland of walkable urbanity and plentiful urban transit, even more so than before. That's literally canon. As part of that, the city has gotten trams. A lot of them. And they're weird. Time to restart this series of posts that I thought I'd finished long ago!

This will only focus on the trams we see, because there's just one episode out yet, "The Illustrhator". This will contain spoilers for what happens to the trams there. There is also a new bus that we see very briefly, but I'm hoping other episodes will tell us more about that.

The Vehicle

The trams we see are single four-axle vehicles. Yes, four axles, we do get to count them.

The design looks like they're individual small wheels rather than connected axles, which is a common design that has its advantages and its drawbacks. The floor tram is entirely at one level, seemingly about 30-40 cm above rail height.

We do get to see its interior as well. Nice big windows, different seating layouts, a big wheelchair area, and readers for Navigo RFID tickets at all doors. And, interestingly, fold-down seats, which are a feature on older Paris metro rolling stock.

We get a tiny hint of the inside of the cab as well. According to the display, we're going forward, and we're on line T3A towards Porte De Vincennes. And we're going 70 km/h.

There is actually a real-life Paris line T3A that does terminate at Porte De Vincennes (where you can change for the T3B), and I want to talk more about that, but before we can go there I need to talk about the rear of the train first. It has an open platform!

The rear platform

Don't worry about it being raised in the air here, that's just because the tram is currently falling down because the bridge is collapsing.

But don't worry, that is not a supervillain thing, the bridge just did that on its own, that's perfectly fine…

…right? The characters treat it like it's perfectly fine that this bridge just partially collapses without any supernatural interference, but, uhm, I have concerns. Questions even. Frankly I'm far more worried about that than about any supervillains. Alya and Nino later interview the mayor, and they completely ignore that a city bridge collapsed while a tram was going over it.

Sorry, I keep getting distracted. The rear of the tram has an open platform, which looks silly, is silly, is completely unrealistic, and I love it! See, while I am not aware of any trams like that, unless you count partially open ones like the San Francisco Cable Cars, but those are not quite the same.

However, there is a precedent for this platform, because Paris has a long history of city buses with such platforms. A good example is the Renault TN series

Picture from Wikimedia Commons, taken in 1950 by Sven Goliath, published by the Stockholm Transport Museum Commons

These were mostly a thing in the 1930s, but then got brought back in limited numbers in the 1960s after a Saviem SC10 had an accident that destroyed most of its rear, and RATP decided to be funny while rebuilding it. Later Saviem built these busses in series.

Picture from Wikimedia Commons, Tumblr won't let me link to the actual page there but it's on the Wikipedia article, taken by Sauvabus (bus historical association), published under CC-BY 4.0 international

All buses since then have put their engine at the rear, which has a lot of benefits, but also means it's right where this platform would go, so this has fallen out of fashion. Today you can only experience it when the one private transport museum near Paris has its monthly opening day, which is something I really need to visit one of these days. Here's a video showing the experience:

So there is precedent for this rear platform. Does it serve any purpose? Not really. Is it fun? Absolutely! And that's all it was on the Saviem SC10 as well, really. I love this platform. It's historic, it's quirky, it's fun, it's great.

The show definitely aims for a retro-futurist vibe now, seen e.g. in cars, like this modern take on the Citroën DS:

This modern take on this 60s and 70s legendary classic is what the modern DS brand should do, instead of their array of generic boring SUVs. Anyway, I'm not going to go too far into that, if I start talking about the cars in Miraculous Ladybug I'll never stop (yo is that a modern Peugeot 504? They literally modernised Aphrodite from Only Murders in the Building!). But I will say that this detail matches nicely.

The Infrastructure

Look at that station! Gorgeous! The designers of this show have created a tram stop in the style of the famous Guimard metro entrances, with their beautiful Art Nouveau design. That's amazing. I wish real tram stops in Paris look like that.

As for the tram stop itself, it's a low floor island platform with walkways to the sides, which matches modern standards for new tram stops worldwide. The track has gras planted on it, which is also common and popular, as it helps absorb noise, water, heat and pollution and it just looks nice. Yes, side platforms are more common, but this is still what a modern urban light rail network can and should look like. The only thing unrealistic about it is how pretty it is.

It should be noted that there's no overhead lines here, so the trains are powered by batteries, probably. That, or hydrogen, but a hydrogen tram would be a supremely bad idea, nobody would ever build something like that…

…except for Hyundai for some reason.

God that thing annoys me by its very existence. Hydrogen is expensive and will remain expensive for the next few decades, and this is what you're spending it on? A tram!? Trams should run with overhead wires. That's the good thing about a tram, you know where it's going to be, so you can put a wire there to give it power, and then you don't have to worry about batteries or hydrogen storage or whatever…

Sorry, I got distracted. Anyway, no overhead lines is realistic, and if they ever say, "it's a hydrogen tram" in future episodes, that'll be realistic too, even if it shouldn't be.

Instead let's look at this!

Closer…

Yeah! They finally fixed the metro map! The old one was an unholy mess of lines that didn't match anything (which I complained about before), but this one clearly has the Seine flowing through Paris as it should, with the island in the middle. The transport lines on it don't seem to match anything I can recognise, neither Metro nor RER, but let's just assume they are the new tram lines that happen to go this way.

Compared to the real thing

Real-life Paris abandoned trams in the 1930s already, being a negative trend-setter there. It didn't help that trams were limited to lower top speeds than buses were at the time. However, since the 1990s, trams have made a huge comeback in the Paris region.

(Aside: Note that I say the Paris region. There's only really one tram line in Paris itself (plus a few stops from the other ones). Where Berlin or London absorbed most of their suburbs at some point in the 20th century, Paris didn't, so the actual Paris part of the Paris region is surprisingly small. That's why Paris has both far fewer and way more inhabitants than e.g. Berlin, depending on what you count.)

Anyway, the tram lines in Paris mostly serve the suburbs, providing tangential connections from one suburb to the next so you don't have to take the metro or RER into the city centre, change at fucking Châtelet-Les Halles, and ride back out again. A unique feature of the the tram network is that each line is separate, with its own tracks and maintenance facilities, and at times very different technologies used. Most of the tram lines don't connect to other tram lines at all, each line is just out there doing its own thing. And since they're out in the suburbs, as a tourist you're unlikely to ever see one if you don't go looking for it.

The exception to that is the T3, divided into T3A and T3B, which runs in a 3/4 circle around Paris along the outer boulevards. The final quarter is where rich NIMBYs live, so it'll be a while until the circle gets closed, I fear.

This actual T3 is run with long bi-directional vehicles with no open platform anywhere in sight, and pleasant but considerably more boring stations. It does have green track (meaning with grass) in many places, though, and it has overhead wires.

In Paris, the trams are used as very long buses (with some overlap with really tiny metros) in underserved areas. Serving areas outside the city core is really the main thrust of Paris transit development at the moment, with a 200 km metro extension, the Grand Paris Express, being built exclusively to better connect the suburbs. This mega project is one of the coolest things happening in public transport anywhere in the world at the moment. The trams augment this.

I do actually think that some trams in Paris's city centre could make sense, to replace the busier bus routes. And there are definitely thoughts about that, but with all the money going towards doubling the size of the Metro, I don't think we'll see that very soon.

The verdict

I like that tram. I don't think it's what Paris would actually have, a longer articulated bidirectional model without a rear platform would make more sense, but I love the quirkiness of it. This season is off to a good start.

[damnfandomproblems]

We received a handful of very similar submissions not too far apart from each other, so I've decided to break format a bit and include them all in one post together here to get them out of the way. Each will have their own Fandom Problem number but we will still be getting the same amount of posts today, this will just be one item in the queue.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fandom Problem #6735:

I saw someone complain that Hatsune Miku drawn as an Israeli teenager is exactly the same as drawing Nazi Germany Miku!

This is an example of an antisemitic trope called Holocaust inversion - but that's actually beside the point.

I saw the same person post their own lovely fanart of an Egyptian Miku.

Look, I don't think random ass Egyptians nowadays are to blame for their government's or their ancestors misdeeds. Nor do I think Egyptian Miku somehow represents them.

But I find it hypocritical that they're implying Israeli civilians are just like the fucking Nazis when they're from a country where ~20 Jews live.

There are over 50 000 Egyptian Jews in the world! They had to leave Egypt because there they're were being murdered or having their houses firebombed. Most went to Israel because no other country would take them.

I guess by this person's logic they're just as bad as Nazis.

But since this is a fandom blog, let's bring Miku back into this:

Miku is Japanese.

Japan is a nation with an imperialist past. Japanese nationalism is still going strong. The Ainu people and Ryukyuan people had their homelands colonized, and were forcibly assimilated. To this day the Japanese government does not recognize them as minority ethnic groups.

The Wikipedia category page for Japanese war crimes has well over 50 entries, sorted by the nation they were committed in. Between them, hundreds of thousands were killed, and hundreds of thousands were raped or forced into sexual slavery. This is not a distant past, there are "comfort women" survivors still alive today. The Japanese government didn't apologize for any of this until the 1990s. Japan continues to not have any laws in place to prevent racial or ethnic based discrimination.

Does Miku represent imperialism, colonialism, mass murder, genocide, racism, and state sponsored mass sexual slavery, just because she is Japanese?

No, of course not. That would be dumb. We don't hold individual Japanese people, and certainly not random Japanese fictional characters, responsible for this. That would be both racist and pointless.

If you think that it's somehow different for a fanmade Israeli teenager Miku design,

🫵you are an antisemite🫵

Fandom Problem #6736:

'white people participating in the international hatsune miku trend is LITERALLY colonialism' isn't a take i expected to see and yet here we are!

I think it's time we all go outside!

Fandom Problem #6737:

I really don't want to be judgemental and I know that the whole Mikusona monday/personal Hatsune Miku design trends from a while ago were all about redesigns based on the artist's tastes.

But you know, sometimes the design is so far removed from the original that its just unrecognizable as Miku?

I mean if your character has a different silhouette than Miku, a different outfit than Miku, a different face than Miku, a different hairstyle than Miku, a different hair color than Miku, nothing that would thematically connect it to Miku, then that's not Hatsune Miku, that's your OC!

Fandom Problem #6738:

"I drew Palestinian Miku because Israeli Miku made me feel sick!"

Really? Seriously?!

You drew Palestinian Miku, not because you love Palestine, not because you love Palestinian culture, but because you wanted to stick it up to those pesky Israeli artists?

That's... I don't even know what to say. That's awful, and it reveals an awful lot about you.

You're not even Palestinian - you're appropriating Palestinian culture to fuel your hatred of Israeli citizens.

You aren't pro-peace. You aren't even pro-Palestine. You're just antisemitic.

Fandom Problem #6739:

Artist draws Chinese Hatsune Miku

People: 😍🥰🤗💗

Artist draws Iranian Hatsune Miku

People: 💖☺️😄🤩

Artist draws Afghan Hatsune Miku

People: 😊😻💞🥰

Artist draws Indonesian Hatsune Miku

People: 👏🤗💗🙂

Artist draws British Hatsune Miku

People: 😄♥️😽💕

Artist draws USAmerican Hatsune Miku

People: 🥰😍✨💝

Artist draws Israeli Hatsune Miku

People: I literally feel sick rn kill yourself you racist nationalist genocidal colonizer! How dare you touch Hatsune Miku! Your culture is fake and your art is ugly as shit!

...somehow, I feel that it isn't about genocide being bad 🤔

(and yes, I have actually seen people say each and every single word I wrote there. It's not an exaggeration.)

Fandom Problem #6740:

There's a trend going around of people drawing Hatsune Miku if she was from their own countries, which is really fun to see, but I gotta say,

If seeing someone's drawing of Israeli Miku makes you 'feel sick' (actual quote that I saw), or if you think someone drawing Israeli Miku means they support genocide,

I need you to step back and realize that this line of thought isn't normal, it is in fact really fucking racist.

Random citizens of Israel aren't to blame for their government's actions, if you can't realize that, you have been radicalized and not in a "cute" way!

People are not to blame for their government's actions. Random people sharing their culture and making a drawing fucking Hatsune Miku aren't showing approval for everything their country does.

If you can respect, say, Chinese, Russian, or Iranian artists (or anyone, really) in spite of their countries' rampant human rights violations - because it's not their goddamn fault - but you are unable to do the same for Israeli artists -

That is just racist, it's a double standard, and it reeks of antisemitism.

This sort of performative outrage, this performative disgust - it does JACK SHIT to help people in Gaza.

Please do better.

Fandom Problem #6741:

I can't help but to side eye people who draw their blorbos with Palestinian flags... OK, you drew Miku with a keffiyeh on her ass. Exactly how is that supposed to help? By creating awareness? You really think anyone on this site isn't aware by now?

It seems like performative activism at best.

If you really want to use your art to help people in Gaza, take charity commissions or something that'll help materially you know!

[vanessalocke]

Britain in the Cold War

These past few days, while searching for material to write my fanfic (FrUK/UKFr), I have spent time reading about British foreign relations in the 20th century. I read from a basic and perhaps unreliable source, English Wikipedia (or rather, quite a few Wikipedia pages). However, from the way it is written, it is clear that the people who wrote the wiki pages I read are British. So, if there are any mistakes, please let me know. Please note that you should not take what I write here as fact. I just write everything based on my memory and bias. You should always fact check everything you read before you use these things for your purposes.

When I read about Britain, I learned that during the Cold War, the country that hated the Reds (as well as the Soviet Union) the most was not America but Britain. Britain was terribly anti-Soviet, and also had a more ferocious arms race than any other country in Europe when fighting the communist wave. The reason Britain maintained close relations with the United States was because the British leaders during the Cold War were extremely anti-communist and needed American weapons to fight the Soviets. They hated the Reds so much that they became paranoid, and at that time, only America could counter the Soviets. From Churchill to Margaret Thatcher, it was the same.

Meanwhile, France actually did not hate the Reds that much. From 1960 onwards (I don’t remember the exact time frame), France began to re-establish contact with the Soviet Union and recognized the People’s Republic of China. The EEC established by France was actually a declaration that Europe was not under the control of the two factions in the Cold War.

NATO actually originated from a separate treaty between Britain and France, the Dunkirk Treaty of 1947. Later, the new treaty gradually added Benelux, gradually expanding it. After this military alliance expanded, Britain worked with the United States to turn this alliance into NATO aka the anti-red stronghold, adding the United States and Canada to this alliance. That is, the information that the United States established NATO that websites often talk about is actually a fake fact, the United States was actually the one who joined later, not the one who presided. The predecessor of NATO was not to fight the reds, but it became an anti-red outpost because of Britain's will. Considering the starting point as well as the time when the alliance was transformed into NATO, the presiding one was Britain. Later, France wanted to separate from the Cold War situation, so France withdrew from the military command for 43 years.

Actually, the anti-red wave in Britain is not a difficult phenomenon to understand. Britain has Adam Smith as the father of capitalism, the industrial revolution as the premise for the means of production and the creation of the working class, the utilitarianism that people are selfish, Britain itself is an empire... that is, capitalism is closely linked to British identity. All the stereotypes that characterize Britain today started from capitalism and the glory that Britain once had was also from capitalism. I always feel strange that when people think of Britain, they think of royalty, court culture, and aristocracy, but in fact, those are things that Britain is heavily influenced by the continent (mainly from France) and are not unique to Britain. What is truly a prominent feature of Britain is utilitarianism and capitalism, which no one really cares about.

The British leaders in NATO once said "to keep the Russians out, the Americans in, and the Germans down" 🫠 Yes, you guys are right, after WW2 the British were not only anti-Red but also hated the Germans. They were one of the countries that most fiercely opposed the annexation of East and West Germany after the Cold War.

Actually, at first, Britain had the same idea as France. That is, after WW2 ended, Britain considered leading Europe with France to counter both America and the Soviet Union (still, every scenario is anti-Soviet). That is, we almost had an EEC/EU in which the leaders were not France - Germany but Britain - France. But the problem here is that at that time, Britain was bankrupt, had given up all of their colonies, Canada had exempted Britain from paying its debts, but Britain was still deeply in debt. In addition, America was eyeing the markets of former British colonies, trying to push Britain out of the Middle East so that America could get in. In the end, Britain could not bear the cost, so it let America take over all of Britain’s market share and heritage. Or it can be said that Britain went home to retire, from now on, all the family matters were handed over to his son (and if Britain did not hand it over, it would be impossible because if he did not, America would strangle the old man =)))))))) ). France saw that Britain siding with America was not good, there was no longer any pride of the former empire (and what the hell is this pride, Britain even owed their colonies and the colonies had to forgive the debt). So France said: "If you don't do it, I will." France turned to shake hands with Germany to establish the EEC.

But talking about this, it leads to another. The establishment of the EEC by France with Germany was a consequence of Britain's previous actions. It was not without reason that France abandoned Britain and went with Germany. The thing is, before the peak of the Entente Cordiale, these two countries had been at peace with each other for nearly 100 years (since 1815, after Napoleon, there had been no more wars) and during that time, the two countries became increasingly closer to each other, colonial disputes were all negotiations, not fighting anymore. But the problem here is that in this relationship, Britain was the dominant party and had greater influence. There was even a time when France had to withdraw from a territory only at Britain's request, because "Fashoda was a diplomatic victory for the British because Paris realised that in the long run it needed friendship with London, especially in the case of a war between France and Germany.". Yep, that's it, Germany was the subject that Britain used as a condition for negotiating with France. "Either you listen to me and I will fight the Germans with you, or you defy me and I will let you fight the Germans yourself."

With Germany's growing power, Britain always had a conciliatory attitude, "forbearance is better than forgiveness". The brutality of WW1 left the British with a fear of war, so in the period between WW1 and WW2, Britain actually always had a policy of concessions to Germany, while France hated Germany so much that France triggered everything that had Germany in it, always demanding to attack Germany. Just imagine the British-French team at that time, one wanted to bomb the neighbor while the other tried every way to stop his friend, making peace with the neighbor. Britain even tried to ease the Versailles Treaty so that Germany would pay less compensation, as well as telling France to let Germany occupy Czechoslovakia "to satisfy their own needs". Many people also said that actually letting Germany attack Poland at the beginning of WW2 was Britain's intention, using Poland as a scapegoat for Germany. As mentioned above, in the Anglo-French relationship at that time, England actually had the upper hand, and most decisions from the Anglo-French team at that time had to have England's consent.

After that, everyone knows what happened 🫠 After WW2 ended, Britain hated Germany so much. France, after WW2 and during the Cold War, felt that they could no longer trust Britain, so they turned to play with Germany. France's reason was that at this time, Germany still had half of their territory, and their army was prevented from redeveloping their military and waging war, so France thought that if they established the EEC with this guy, they would be able to control this guy 🫠 and as mentioned above, because the nature of the EEC was to be independent of both America and the Soviet Union, so when Britain applied to join the EEC, France said: "This is my territory, stop doing business with the Americans and I'll let you in 🤗". Britain was so upset that Britain cried (literally. The British Prime Minister was so upset that he cried after the negotiations to join the EEC). Because England couldn't give up the special relationship with America, if they did, they wouldn't have a source of weapons to fight the Soviets.

TL;DR: Britain hated the Soviet Union more than the US, so Britain's main focus in its relations with the US was to fight the Soviet Union (oh, Britain never expected that the US would never hate the Soviet Union the way Britain hated the Soviet Union. When the Soviet Union was dying, the US sent experts to find ways to help the Soviet Union, while when the Soviet Union died, Britain celebrated). Britain was angry with the Franco-German relationship because Britain had neglected to defend against Germany, which led to Britain having to confront Germany in WW2. Not only that, the war with Germany made Britain bankrupt, in debt, and had to side with America in the Cold War instead of being self-sufficient. Because they couldn't be self-sufficient, Germany later took the position that should have been Britain's in the cooperative relationship with France.

[emperor-forneus]

hello to all the lui fans and supporters! today he's the victim of my deep-diving tendencies so let's see if there's anything more we can learn about him from his name. starting with his surname, shirasagijō (白鷺城), which is comprised of three kanji:

白 (shira) - white, innocent

鷺 (sagi) - heron

城 (jō) - castle, fortress

there is very much a "castle of the white heron" in japan, also known by its more famous name - himeji castle (姫路城). built around the year 1300, it's one of japan's most famous and well-preserved castles. it was given the name shirasagi-jō due to its architecture being inspired by white herons taking flight (and until this day there's still herons in the area!) but why would they model an entire castle off of a bird?

in a lot of olden japanese literature the heron is depicted in a negative light, occasionally even as a yōkai (suspicious spirits). in sei shōnagon's "pillow book", which serves more or less like a diary, she writes "鷺は、いとみめも見ぐるし。まなこゐなども、うたてよろずになつかしからねど" / "the heron is ugly in appearance, especially in the eyes. it has creepy eyes which aren't cute." the yōkai artist toriyama sekien has an art piece called "aosaginohi" (青鷺火, "blue heron fire") depicting the bird transforming into a yōkai while being engulfed in blue flames:

chances are the heron met the 50/50 quota for being graceful enough during flight and having a scary enough reputation to have something as important as a royal castle / fortress based off of it. a graceful building for those inside, and a warning sign for any outsiders. and i think all of this fits lui pretty well! his appearance (especially his eyes) can be considered scary, and unless you know him personally you probably will be shaking in your boots every time he appears. due to this reputation that he has we've also seen a lot of characters refer to him as an oni (to a point where even his island is called 鬼が島, onigashima. this is also a real thing in japanese mythology.) and that can fall under the yōkai label as well. also the art of the blue heron fire... like c'mon. boy's hair is literally blue flames. and his feathery white boa? certified bird boy he is /hj i was gonna end this off here because i thought there wasn't much that can be said about his first name, BUT, according to japanese wikipedia, ルイ(rui, or as we know it - lui) is actually supposed to be the name "louis". a name from french-speaking counties first and foremost which means "famous warrior". since we know lui comes from a country abroad, and suoh trained under him in canada out of all countries, i think it'd be safe to assume lui is originally from one of the french-speaking provinces of canada

if you read through all this tysm and here's a picture of our unhinged boy with his boa resembling a heron taking off

[unbidden-yidden-deactivated20240]

To follow up on my Hosanna poll, I think before things go any further, it'd be good to actually explain and define it. I was initially going to wait until the end of the poll, but it seems that google is giving people a lot of bad and/or conflicting answers and I'd rather people walk away with the correct information.

So! Hosanna is an anglicized version of the Hebrew words "hosha na" [הושע נא or as a contraction הושענא]. Hosha na is a little enigmatic and hard to translate, but the simplest translation is probably "save us, please." It's traditionally used as an exclamation to G-d to rescue us, but it also has shades of being a triumphant shout (the implication being confidence that G-d will save us.)

Jews say "hoshanot" (the plural of hosha na) as part of our traditional Sukkot liturgy, and is something we do still today.

For us, the multi-faceted meaning of the root word allows us to have multiple layers of meaning. During Sukkot, we start praying for rain in its proper season and amounts, and we shake the lulav and etrog as part of these processions and liturgy. On Hoshana Rabba [the "great hoshana"], the last day of Sukkot, we process around the bimah (front lectern) seven times as a completion of our season of repentance and our starting of the new year with abundant blessings.

My siddur (prayer book) Lev Shalem has this as an explanation and translation:

[Image ID is of the Lev Shalem siddur, pages 382 & 383 - I tried hard to find a pdf of this that would be readable using a screen reader, but the versions I'm finding cut off at pg. 376 at the latest. If anyone has bandwidth to type this up, I would greatly appreciate it]

For the curious, here is a recording of the Hoshanot liturgy and procession:

Christians mostly know the word from the gospels and hymns.

Here is what Wikipedia says about its use in Christianity:

Historical meaning

Since those welcoming Jesus were Jewish, as of course Jesus himself was, some would interpret the cry of "Hosanna" on the entry of Jesus in its proper meaning, as a cry by the people for salvation and rescue.

Christian reinterpretation

"Hosanna" many interpret as a shout of praise or adoration made in recognition of the messiahship of Jesus on his entry into Jerusalem

It is applied in numerous verses of the New Testament, including "Hosanna! blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lᴏʀᴅ!" (Matthew 21:9,15; Mark 11:9–10; John 12:13), which forms part of the Sanctus prayer; "hosanna in the highest" (Mark 11.10); and "hosanna to the Son of David" (Matt 21:9). These quotations, however, are of words in the Jewish Psalm 118. Although not used in the book of Luke, the testimony of Jesus' entry into Jerusalem is recorded in Luke 19.

In church music

The "Hosanna Anthem", based on the phrase Hosanna, is a traditional Moravian Church anthem written by Bishop Christian Gregor of Herrnhut sung on Palm Sunday and the first Sunday of Advent. It is antiphonal, i.e. a call-and-response song; traditionally, it is sung between the children and adult congregation, though it is not unheard of for it to be done in other ways, such as between choir and congregation, or played between trombone choirs.

The bottom line:

Jews and Christians have different connections, associations, and meanings attached to this word as expressions of our different theologies and texts. The word is derived from a Hebrew word and was created by Jews and is still used by us today. (Like literally today - we are currently in the middle of the Sukkot festival.) Christians changed the meaning to fit within their own context, and pronunciation of the word evolved with linguistic drift over time. In the same way that there's not a reason to pitch a fit over saying Jesus rather than Yeshua, there's no compelling reason to change hosanna back to hosha na; if anything, the distinction helps make it clear that it's effectively a different word and concept from ours.

On the other hand, I do think Christians ought to know the original meaning of the word if they're going to use it. To only ever know their version when it was derived from ours is yet another small way of playing into supercessionism by erasing and replacing the Jewish context of things that were originated in Judaism that Christians have embedded in Christianity. While the Christians of today cannot unwind the supercessionism of Christian history, they *can* choose to understand their present Christianity in ways that do not play into supercessionism and that respect the Jewish community of today.

I hope this was helpful and gives folks a new perspective on an obscure Hebrew word!

[hyperpotamianarch]

Hello. Today, I'd like to make some random anecdotes about Rabbi Avraham Ibn Ezra - poet, commentator, linguist, mathmatician, probably not too bad at chess and cursed to be poor for the entirety of his life.

After a cursory look at his wikipedia page, I must admit I didn't really know much about his life: only that he was born and raised in Spain, went travelling, had terrible luck with everything, wrote his commentaries on the Torah for money (which I think didn't help with the "cursed to be poor" thing), befriended Rabbenu Tam in France, possibly married the daughter of Rabbi Yehudah HaLevi and promptly died... somewhere... oh, and also wrote lots of poetry in the middle.

Historically speaking, he lived at the end of the Golden Age of Judaism in Spain, around the 11th-12th centuries CE. This puts him right after Rashi - which allows him to snark at everything he thinks Rashi was wrong about, but before Rambam - which means he doesn't get to snark at everything Rambam got wrong. His commentary on the Torah leans a little towards the linguistic side, though he has a couple of other things going on as well, like roasting people he disagrees with (Ben Zuta is the only friend a bull has, anyone?) and dancing around verses he thinks were added later to the Torah, like every time it says "to this very day".

He also wrote one of the first math books in Hebrew - Sefer HaMispar, he wrote a poem about chess, one about how whatever he'll work at he won't get enough money. And generally, he wrote poems. Quite a lot.

I suppose at this point I should mention something: Hebrew linguists were, at the middle ages, predominantly Sepharadi. I mean, sure, there could be a non-Jewish Hebrew linguist, but for some reason I don't hear much about those. And there probably were Ashkenazi linguists, but there weren't many of them. Rashi does deal with linguistics - but half the time he does, it's using the books of two famous Sepharadi linguists. The Sepharadim, living in Muslim lands as they were, simply had a better background with learning Hebrew, since they were surrounded by speakers of a closely related language - Arabic. And Ibn Ezra's deep understanding of Hebrew led to him loving linguistic riddles, which I can never figure out - and I was reading an eddition with footnotes! Though maybe I didn't make enough effort or something.

But no, the reason I wanted to talk about Ibn Ezra was the impossible standards for poetry, as set by Sepharadi poets. You see, Jews were always influenced by their surroundings, in multiple facets. and poetry is definitely one of them. So, the influence from Arab poets includes strict rules for rhythm and - and this is what I actually wanted to talk about - rhyming.

The rythm thing is bad enough. Only once in my life have I tried keeping up with that. It was very, very hard. It's probably because I'm not used to this, but no song I write can keep a consistent rhythm and meter, and that's without trying to apply the standard Sepharadic rules. So trying to have such a strict meter... didn't work well for me. I guess I'm the frenchman from

וּמִי הֵבִיא לְצָרְפַתִּי בְּבֵית שִׁיר,

וְעָבַר זָר מְקוֹם קֹדֶשׁ וְרָמָס;

וְלוּ שִׁיר יַעֲקֹב יִמְתַּק כְּמוֹ מָן,

אֲנִי שֶׁמֶשׁ, וְחַם שִׁמְשִׁי וְנָמָס.

which was actually written about Rabenu Tam, but I'm a distant relative of his so this might still be applicable. Besides, as far as you know my name is Ya'akov, just like Rabenu Tam! (Sorry for not providing a translation, the gist is "how dare a frenchman trample all over poetry?!")

But rhymes. Oh, the Ibn Ezraic rhyming standards.

According to Ibn Ezra, one must always rhyme with the entire syllable. So no, just the last sound isn't enough. In Ibn Ezra's book, rhyme and dime don't actually rhyme - though I don't think he'd care about English at all. For the Ibn Ezra, shor and ḥamor can't be rhymed with each other; shor can rhyme with Mishor, and ḥamor can rhyme with har hamor, but you can't rhyme any other pair of those with each other. And I can't stay up to this challenge. It's nearly always impossible for me to find proper words to rhyme even without the extra demand for the rhyme to be the entire syllable. With English I don't think I even bothered or ever will. You have too many weird syllables for me. But with Hebrew... I do try with Hebrew, really. But I can't keep this up. And the most frustrating thing? It doesn't appear other Ashkenazi writers had this problem.

Now we get to the interesting part. I have been trying lately a new possible format for my very-anticipated-and-definitely-not-only-I-want-it Jewsade fanfic: introduction, preface and Haskamot to books. I just really enjoy reading prefaces for books, and one of my recent favourite pieces of writing is the conclusion piece of the Vilna edition of the Babylonian Talmud. If you're interested - it can be found in most editions of the Talmud at the very end of Masechet Nidah. The piece describes the trouble they went through to publish this edition of the Talmud and it's very interesting. Another favourite piece of mine is the preface of the Levush, a slightly obscure Halachic book from the time of the Shulchan Aruch. If you've ever seen me talk about the race to Halacha - this is my source for that, because the poor author was upstaged about three to four times by other people doing exactly what he planned on doing. I highly recommend this piece as well, though I don't know how easy it is to find. And the Levush - Rabbi Mordechai Yeffe - is a nice Ashkenazi guy. So he must be more lenient with his rhymes, right?

Well, I guess I didn't establish that part. Yes, the preface to the Levush starts with a poem. It's fun. It's great. It's also up to the Ibn Ezraic standard, while my attempt to write an equivalent is... not.

Huh. This post is oddly rambly. Ah well, maybe someone will like it. Anyway, the preface portion that really takes the cake is actually one from a fairly recent obscure book - like, this one was written barely a century ago. I only found it because one of my favourite singers, Aharon Razel, made a song out of it, but the song doesn't really capture the hilarity of the piece. Do ask me if you want to hear more, this one's great.

Signing off with a "darn you, Ibn Ezra! Why must you set such high standards!"

[schroedingerscryptid]

good evening mothers and fuckers of the jury today i bring: Amphoreus Is A Neural Network 

my credentials: i’m a first year CS student in 2025.

if y’all’ve been on hsrtwt in the past few days and watching leak after leak come out, then you probably know what i’m yapping about. if not, check this, this, this, and this out.

if you’d rather wait for 3.4 to come out, this is your chance to scroll. rest of y’all are with me lets go gamers

to summarise the 3.4 leaks, lygus and cyrene are apparently running tests on phainon to make the perfect lord ravager, and phainon’s been through 33550336 loops (girl help him wtf) by now. in each loop, he has to watch everyone die over and over again, and phainon, obvi, cannot remember anything. each loop, he’s a complete blank slate, ready to be traumatised over and over again. lygus keeps track of each loop, and keeps refining the data he puts in at the start of each timeloop to remove the ‘imperfections’ from the previous loop that were corrupting his experiments. 

ok anyways this is not about this shit we’re here to talk about why amphoreus is a neural network.

all of us here hate ai so i’m pretty sure you know the basic strokes of how it works, but if you don’t, then here’s a simple explanation: a neural network works based on input data. there’s many methods to training a machine, but the most generalised ones are the supervised vs the unsupervised models. how they work is what’s on the lid: supervised models mean that the input data is clearly labeled, and unsupervised models mean the input data is not labeled, which forces the ML algorithm to identify data on its own. based on what we know, i’m inclined to think that lygus is probably using a supervised model each time by removing outlier data and/or noise. 

wonderful, let’s talk about mydei now. y’all’ve probably seen a bunch of theories and leaks, but mydei’s highly likely to be a glitch in the system, or even worse, might be a virus that someone’s trying to use to break everyone out of this loop. between all of the theories i’ve seen, the one that connects mydei to the amphoreus loop is the theory that he’s a type of fileless malware. 

Tweet ref: https://x.com/tts_maruadelei/status/1932082549217751271

much like the other chrysos heirs, mydei doesn’t actually exist, but let me say: ain’t it interesting how mydei, the demigod of strife, who should have risen to be a titan that governed disputes, is the one who caused glitches in lygus’ system during the forgotten years?

let’s go back to the theory for a second: fileless attacks, simplified, operate based off of memory alone, which makes it much, much harder to detect compared to normal malware and viruses in a computer system. these fileless attacks can manifest in multiple ways, and one of those ways is a Distributed Denial of Service attack, aka, the infamous DDoS attack. DDoS attacks are among the most common cyberattacks of the modern century, and involve ‘botting’, where multiple bots attack one system to overwhelm the system with a high volume of requests.

the idea of ‘overwhelming’ a system can come in the form of exhausting resources like bandwidth, the Central Processing Unit (CPU) and, most importantly, the Random Access Memory (RAM). you know, the RAM being where most fileless malware operates out of. i’m sure you see where i’m going with this. 

for more psychic damage, there’s a type of attack called a ‘buffer overrun’ or ‘buffer overflow’. wikipedia defines data buffers as regions of memory that store data temporarily while it’s being moved from one place to another. a ‘buffer overflow’ is a type of DDoS (SIGHS) attack in which data in the buffer exceeds the storage capacity and flows into the following memory location, and corrupts the data in the secondary memory locations, and are the most common DDoS attack styles. sound familiar? 

bringing allllll of this back to amphoreus, i wouldn’t be too surprised if mydei’s older versions gained sentience, and started botting lygus’ AI/neural network and caused a DDoS attack, which caused his saves to be completely wiped due to a buffer overflow. thank u for listening can 3.4 hurry Up.

[gweniala]

Some thoughts on The Left Hand of Darkness (by Ursula K. Le Guin)

I have finished listening to a recording of Ursula K. Le Guin's The Left Hand of Darkness, and I have thoughts.

Having a genderless Gethenian society but calling everyone a "he", because you've gotta choose a pronoun in the 1960s, is the same choice I've made with the Neverhoodian society. It made me feel immediate kinship with Le Guin. It's diegetic, too, as male still appears to be the default in the Ekumen. Genly Ai complains early on that he has to call them something, so he calls them all guys and then gets super uncomfortable about their feminine ("effeminate") aspects. When he calls the same person "a landlady" and a "he", it's priceless. Personally, I approve of the use of "he" throughout the novel, because I thrive on homoerotic tension. I do wonder, however, if we in the 2020s are already somewhat past that outrage that a real manly man should feel at seeing an effeminate man. Ai's disgusted remarks about the feminine traits he sees in others sound a little bigoted to me today. I wonder if it was impossible back then to predict ("thought experiment", as Le Guin said in the foreword) that gender roles would go out of fashion in the future. Pretty near future, at that. Not the first time I read an old sci-fi novel and wonder why, after technology has changed everything and thousands of years have passed, gender roles are still frozen at "man politician, woman at home with children". I think it was Dune that gave me that feeling previously.

The folk tale chapters were utterly fascinating. Only after I finished the book and confirmed on Wikipedia that Estraven swore kemmering with his brother Arek, had a child with him and was widowed, and only after that did he make a "second vow, a false one" with Ashra, did I realise that the first incest-related folk tale actually applied to Estraven. At that time, I thought it was just to introduce kemmer and Gethenian culture in general. Does this mean Estraven tried to kill himself upon Arek's death but came back? The later folk tale chapters, like about the foretelling of death or Estraven the traitor, were more obviously immediately relevant. And still amazing. Simple story in-sets that not only gave background and cultural context, but also foreshadowed later events. Awesome storytelling tool.

During and after Estraven's daring jailbreak, Le Guin began describing him more feminine and caring, and every time I thought: "No. Don't do it. You're gonna put them in a tent for two months, kemmer rolls along TWICE, and you're on a whole journey about understanding and building up trust. Le Guin no, don't make the main characters have sex." And… she doesn't! The restraint during kemmer was pre-established when Estraven was unsuccessfully seduced, the faithfulness of those who had vowed kemmering was also set in stone… but I was still worried the low-hanging fruit would be plucked. And it wasn't. It's funny that, of the whole alternating storytelling by Ai himself and from Estraven's journal, this scene where they nearly have sex is the only part told from both their POVs. And their accounts differ a little, endearingly. At the end of the night, they both agree "yep having sex is a bad idea" and then Estraven's second kemmer is not even mentioned. I thought they might at least stop and have a break, akin to treating a woman in kid gloves when she's menstruating, but no, Estraven continues hauling that sledge right through his kemmers. Now that I think of it, it was probably preferable to spending two days in a tent with Ai… who is constantly cold… and hasn't got laid in two years… I mean yes, this was probably the topic of the first fanfiction of this book. Like I said. Low-hanging fruit.

Still on the topic of the trek across the glacier, it fascinated me when the characters delved (sometimes implicitly) into the strengths and weaknesses of either sex. Estraven describes Ai as "strong but fragile", and that strength is used by the plot several times, like when Estraven plummets into an ice pit and Ai manages to pull both him and the sledge safely out of it. Funnily enough, Estraven's endurance and long-term thinking are not appreciated by Ai explicitly. He's still in that pit of "manly good, womanly bad". But it was very much on my mind, and I like to think it was intended by Le Guin.

I was intrigued by the bit of worldbuilding that Gethenians don't know which sex they'll become during kemmer and have no control over it. It's heavily implied in-universe that, actually, bearing a child as a woman is more valued than siring one as a man. Ai's landlady sighs that he (never stops being funny, let Ai out of his confused bisexual hellhole) has never born a child of his flesh. In succession, most prominently with king Argaven, children born of the person's womb are the default heirs. I do wonder what happens to all the kids who are born out of a kemmering vow, but I think it was said they just stay with the mother and become a part of her hearth. When lactation stops 6-8 months after birth, the child is brought up communally. Without a "dad" sometimes, but with lots of uncles. That's a very reassuring fantasy for a mother of two babies who lives away from her extended family. But the fantasy cools a little when Le Guin mentions that, in Orgoreyn, it is common to influence which sex you come into during kemmer… with drugs. Wouldn't that sorta… reintroduce gender roles all at once? Man, what's not having a child of your flesh when you can have all the kids you want and you don't have to stop your starlit political career for them? A bit of a cold shower in the comforting warmth of this particular thought experiment.

I only realised Genly Ai had adopted some of Gethen's worldview when he described the timeline at the end of the book, and said there was no rush. He goes "17 years to the nearest inhabited world, 50 years to the core worlds, eh, who cares, no hurry, there's a lot of time". Which is a sentiment he has never shown yet, and which he has directly attributed to the Gethenian way of thinking. It was cool. I'm sure there were other signs (most explicitly when he's made uneasy by the clear-cut sexes of his crewmates, some voices too shrill, others too deep), but this was the one that caught my attention.

I enjoyed that, most of the time, I genuinely could not tell what Le Guin was going to do with Estraven. Ai's fate was evident, since he's telling the novel in retrospect. He even gets his foretelling that his mission will be successful and Gethen will join the Ekumen within 5 years. Ai was going to survive and see his mission completed. But Estraven, from his introduction to the parade to his haunting upon re-entering his country, I couldn't predict. After he's initially exiled, I thought he might drop from the narrative altogether. Then you get his own storytelling and realise, oop, no, that's a secondary POV character. Only when Ai is sent to the labour camp and Estraven gets all distraught and goes after him did I realise, shite, that's the deuteragonist. The partner, the love interest, the narrative yin to yang. And when he gets shot in the end, I was like… "Okay I realise this was the most poignant way you could have spun it, but also, how dare you. This is the literal spirit of the Czech phrase 'you should stop at the best part'. AI HAS USED THE L-WORD, YOU GOT A GREAT BROMANCE GOING, AND YOU END IT FOR FEELS."

Ai's description of the night raid on the Orgota village across the Karhide border, and then his description of the four days in the transport… It's dry. Matter-of-fact. And scary AS FUCK. I was like, are we in the horror genre now? Why is Ai leaving out all emotions from his storytelling? Is it because he's a manly man and won't admit to them? Is it because all the prisoners were so stoic that no one, beside the one Gethenian in kemmer, felt terror? Is it because he's making a report to his higher-ups and doesn't think his emotions are relevant? I had to fill in all that terror myself, and that was not comfortable. Le Guin goes: "I remember distinctly that I planned to tell the inspector I didn't want the drug shot" (okay solid plan if not likely to succeed) "then the inspector would turn into the weaver Faxa and we would discuss the handdarata" (wait no, I think you're hallucinating) "and after I got the shot for real, I don't remember anything else" (…um?! have we just lost the main character?!) before finally the story switches to Estraven's POV. You know Ai has plot armour. He'll survive. But also, damn.

I think "bisexual" was used in the novel as opposed to "androgynous", but it was hilarious to think it implied that in the Ekumen, bixesuality (and not heterosexuality) is the norm. In my little speculative heaven, Ai got confused why all the Gethenian kemmer couples (mention of kemmerhouse orgies notwithstanding) are heterosexual. Like where's the girls having sex with girls and guys having sex with guys? If having sex with a man as the manly man he is (I'm sorry Ai, you are just so… unintentionally misogynist) was pretty standard in his society, it would also add weight to the decision not to have sex with Estraven. Which, you know, was probably mostly a matter of mutual respect, but it's comforting to think there wasn't that "WAIT WOULD THAT MAKE ME GAY" pulling the strings. Bisexual Ekumen for the win.

Great novel. Great quotes. High among them, patriotism being not a love for one's homeland, but a fear of the other. Ugh, that one's relevance stung. Plus, of course, Arek's parting words to Estraven: Light is the left hand of darkness, and darkness the right hand of light. Two are one, life and death, lying together like lovers in kemmer, like hands joined together, like the end and the way.

Go read The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin. It's awesome.