#when they say ‘those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it” they def also mean your own life and family history

[hussyknee]

The fact is that an unscrupulous tyrant mobilizes the suppressed fears and anxieties of those who were beaten as children but have never been able to accuse their own fathers of doing so. Their loyalty to these fathers is unswerving, despite the torments suffered at their hands. Every tyrant symbolizes such a father, the figure whom the abused children remain attached to with every fiber of their being, hoping that one day they will be able to transform him into a loving parent by remaining blind.

This hope may have been what prompted the representatives of the Roman Catholic Church to demonstrate their compassion for Hussein. In 2002, I turned to a number of cardinals for support when I presented the Vatican with material on the delayed effects of spanking and asked the authorities there to do what they could to enlighten young parents on this subject. As I have said, not one of the cardinals I approached with this request showed the slightest interest in the universally ignored but crucially important issue of physically abused children. Nor did I come across the slightest indication of Christian charity or compassion in connection with this issue. Today, however, those same representatives are eager to show that they are indeed capable of compassion. Significantly, however, this compassion is lavished not on maltreated children or on Saddam’s victims but on Saddam himself, on the unscrupulous father figure that the feared despot symbolizes.

As a rule, beaten, tormented, and humiliated children who have never received support from a helping witness later develop a high degree of tolerance for the cruelties perpetrated by parent figures and a remarkable indifference to the sufferings borne by children exposed to inhumane treatment. The last thing they wish to be told is that they themselves once belonged to the same group. Indifference is a way of preserving them from opening their eyes to reality. In this way they become advocates of evil, however convinced they may be of their humane intentions. From an early age they were forced to suppress and ignore their true feelings. They were forced to put their trust not in those feelings but solely in the regulations imposed on them by their parents, their teachers, and the church authorities. Now the tasks facing them in their adult lives leave them no time to perceive their own feelings, unless those feelings happen to fit in precisely with the patriarchal value system in which they live and which prescribes compassion for the father, however destructive and dangerous he may be. The more comprehensive a tyrant’s catalogue of crimes is, the more he can count on tolerance, provided his admirers are hermetically closed off from access to the sufferings of their own childhood.

(Source: The Body Never Lies by Alice Miller)

[darkspace7]

Y'all...

Now just a moment here, while I'm usually an exceedingly stubborn proponent of looking on the lighter side of things and that with all the bad that seems to exist in the world there's at least a smidgen of things that make it worth saving.

It's a list of which seems to be growing smaller every single day unfortunately.

Once more I'm genuinely beginning to wonder if anything this god forsaken timeline really is worth saving or if y'all are just aching for the absolution of utter destruction.

Is the call of the void so strong that you all are just hellbent on having everything destroyed by some rancid flavour wannabe Villain-of-the Week preaching 'Peace and Order' while holding a cocked-gun right at your head?

(Most of them don't even have a sense of style for frick's sake.)

This shit's beyond parody at this point and it's kind of pissing me off.

And I swear, if another thing happens (and no I am not actively tempting fate here, because I have a more than healthy respect for the cycle of karma and my own place within this already tenuous balance as well as the sword of Damocles hanging over our collective head) I'm gonna yeet Apollo's Dodgeball of Prophecy back at your fucking asses.

[hiddenbeks]

so many thoughts abt how schewpid the jedi council is in kotor but also not sure if i should write abt any of them before i finish the game because it's entirely possible that i'm still missing some critical information,

[tatisources]

- 𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑

❝ Being your friend should come with a warning label. ❞

❝ It’s amateurs like you who give kidnapping a bad game. ❞

❝ Are you mansplaining my power? ❞

❝ Emotion isn’t exactly your strong suit. ❞

❝ I don’t believe in heaven or hell, but I do believe in revenge. ❞

❝ Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it. ❞

❝ There’s nothing quite like the feeling of being proven right. ❞

❝  Because trust and cooperation have always been the hallmarks of our relationship. ❞

❝  Anytime I grow nauseous at the sight of a rainbow or hear a pop song that makes my ears bleed, I’ll think of you. ❞

❝ I’ve learned so much from you. Part of it is admittedly criminal behavior. ❞

❝ Not hugging is kind of our thing. ❞

❝ When the dance floor calls, you gotta answer. ❞

❝ Typically I have great admiration for well-executed revenge plots, but yours was a bit extreme, even for my high standards.  ❞

❝ Except I won’t cry and whine like a child. ❞

❝ I can’t believe you were in a secret society and didn’t tell me. ❞

❝ You brought a gun to a sword fight. Probably the first smart decision you’ve made today. ❞

❝ Emotion equals weakness. ❞

❝ I find social media to be a soul sucking void of meaningless affirmation. ❞

❝ These are all traits of great writers. And serial killers. ❞

❝ Sometimes I act like I don’t care if people like me. Deep down, I secretly enjoy it. ❞

❝ I like to win. Is that so wrong? ❞

❝ For the record, I don't believe that I'm better than everyone else, just that I'm better than you. ❞

❝ Use the words 'little' and 'girl' to address me again and I can't guarantee your safety. ❞

❝ If he breaks your heart, I'll nail gun his. ❞

❝ You guys are making me nauseous. Not in a good way. ❞

❝ When I look at you, the following emojis come to mind: rope, shovel, hole. ❞

❝ You know the old saying, never bring a knife to a sword fight. Unless it’s concealed. ❞

❝ Secrets are like zombies, they never truly die. ❞

❝ Tears don’t fix anything. So I vowed to never do it again. ❞

❝ Please, flattery will get you nowhere. ❞

❝ I’m not friend material, let alone more-than-friend material. I will ignore you, stomp on your heart, and always put my needs and interests first. ❞

❝ Every day is all about me. This one just comes with cake and a bad song. ❞

❝ Emotions are a gateway trait. They lead to feelings, which trigger tears. I don’t do tears.❞

❝ It’s either they write our story or we do. You can’t have it both ways. ❞

❝ I don’t need your help or your pity. I already have a mother and a therapist. That’s enough torture, even for me. ❞

❝ I don’t bury hatchets. I sharpen them. ❞

❝ Friends are a liability and can be exploited. That makes them weaknesses. ❞

[ziskeyt]

Christie Pits

Today is the 90th anniversary of the Christie Pits Riot. The largest race riot in Canada. Christie Pits is a park in Toronto, Ontario. It's pretty large, and these days is a very active park in the summer and a place for sledding and ice skating in the winter. On this day in 1933 the tensions between the Jews who lived in the neighbourhood around the Christie Pits park and the white Canadians who wished to ally with the nazis, who made up what they called Swasitka Clubs, came to a head during a baseball game. The Jews were joined in the fight by their immigrant neighbours, primarily Italians, who also had come head to head with the white nazis before. These hate-filled Canadians wished to restrict Jews from jobs, education, going to the beaches, owning property, and really, given their alignment with the nazis and proudly waving the swastika flag, we can be pretty sure they wanted us dead as well.

The Toronto Star paper noted that there were ten thousand people who ended up joining the fight.

This is the only photo that exists:

(ID in alt) Christie Pits resulted in one of the first prohibitions against hate speech with the Mayor of the time saying that he would prosecute any future displays of the swastika. If you'd like to read more, Jamie Michaels, who wrote the graphic novel Christie Pits published an article today about the riots:

There was an event today in the park to commemorate the anniversary. As well as a few in May and June, Jewish and Italian heritage months respectively. While I don't know the best way to commemorate a fight like this, remembering that it happened, and why it happened is incredibly important. We're in a time that is very reminiscent to what people were dealing with then; from money seemingly meaning less while everything costs more, to the wealthy flaunting their great discrepancy from the majority, to people walking off work to strike for better conditions. Times of turmoil are times when people will often turn to trying to find a reason for their uncertainty, and as history has taught us, this often leads people to explaining their misfortune by finding a scapegoat -- and that scapegoat is usually Jews. In today's world, there are those who are virulently antisemitic with their whole chests, and those people are easy to point to and say they are what they are. But, we're also in a time where there is a lot of coded antisemitism around, from age-old conspiracy theories, to various racist tropes finding rebirths in memes and "jokes", to character types and appropriation of Jewish culture to make something seem exotic and mystical. You as an individual have the responsibility to educate yourself about racist dogwhistles and coding so you don't go around parroting things you don't believe, and eventually find yourself falling down the rabbit hole of white supremacist rhetoric. They say those who do not know history are doomed to repeat it, but doom makes it sound like something that people aren't able to do anything about it. Learn history. Learn what hatred has looked like in the past and morphed into today. Learn history. You are not doomed and you are not helpless. You too can take part in stopping rising fascism by learning what it looks and sounds like. You have a responsibility to yourself and to the future to learn about where we came from to get to where we are today.

[ivorydice]

Writing Meme: First Line Patterns

Rules: List the first line of your last 10 (or however many you have) posted fics and see if there's a pattern!

I was tagged for this by @amiyade and @avianscribe a little while ago, thank you!! <333

Without further ado:

Noctis walks through the Citadel corridors until he reaches the heart, then he slows his pace. | crystalline

He shouldn’t be out here in the city. | neon lights

A flash of red, and the world spins. | redshift

He should have seen it coming a mile away. | Fade

They say those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it. | when the stars collide

Ardyn had the same dream he had been having for two millennia. | The Memory of You

“When's your birthday?” | i'm longing to linger till dawn, dear

The house seemed to have every cliche Noctis could think of, and he wasn’t sure if it was something to be impressed by while simply carrying on with their job, or if they should actually follow Prompto’s paranoid rambling advice and turn around to leave. | Flesh Damage

It was ridiculous. | And Dream of Sheep

They’re dealing with a sudden ambush at Wennath Riverhead when everything goes to hell. | Pins and Needles

Some of these are so old, I'm cringing (affectionately) lmao. But I think my first line pattern is I just try to sound as mysterious and interesting as possible haha - definitely in more recent years anyway. I know I've been very conscious of writing advice posts/articles that go on about how the first line is an important hook. So I do try to make it as interesting as possible and try to get the vibes of the fic across immediately lol.

I have no idea who has been tagged for this, but I'm gonna give no pressure tagging to: @wrencatte @kaelinaloveslomaris @omgfloofy @zanarkandfayth @marmolita @every-lemon and anyone else who wants to do it!

[gingus-doon]

omfg i always manage to mistakingly think there is nothing left to Know that will shock me and make me reconsider concerning feminist and queer histories but oh my mother fuckin god yall DID YALL KNOW..ALISON BECHDEL SUPPORTED BI LESBIANS

like i just hhn i wouldve had no idea i would not have even known the concept EXISTED and i, here, stand on neither side as i don't know enough about anything to make a firm point (i lean against but hearing ppl say trans women are facing the brunt of anti bi-lesbian sentiment & the strange insistence on Lesbians Cannot Like Men when trans men in lesbian history, right there-- [how can you say this without undermining trans men's manhood? i don't think you can. hence im content to describe lesbian relationships as those without cis men {though not all relationships without cis men are lesbian relationships, for ex trans gay guys or straight trans relationships} & im not one to brush aside the queer history of transmasc lesboys so easily when i know. So many very lesbian tguys] makes me reconsider)

ITS SO FUCKING NUTS TO REMEMBER THAT FEMINIST AND QUEER PPL BEFORE US ALREADY HAD THESE DISCUSSIONS ALREADY SPOKE WHAT NEEDED TO BE SPOKEN IN MANY CASES AND FORGOING THE ADVICE OF OUR FEMALE AND TRANSSEXUAL FOREBEARERS JUST LEADS US TO HAVE THE SAME POINTLESS DISCOURSES ON TUMBLR DOT COM AGAIN AND SEVER COMMUNITY OVER IT AGAIN AND AGAIN OH MY GOD ITS LIKE A CURSE ITS LIKE WE'RE SISYPHUS ALIENATED FROM OUR TEACHERS CONDEMNED TO ROLL THE SAME BOULDER UP THAT HILL

im just going fucking nuts bcauae it's always like this i will cry ahahhh like

LESLIE FEINBERG. HIR PROPHETIC STATEMENT

AND ITS HAPPENINGGGG ITS HAPPENING THERE ARE TERFS AND THE SEX ABOLITIONIST RADICALLY QUEER RADICAL FEMINISM OF OUR FOREMOTHERS HAS BEEN ABANDONED AND NOW NO ONE LOOKS TO THAT ESTEEMED TRADITION BESIDES A FEW BECAUSE EVERYONE HATES TERFS (rightfully so) BUT DONT KNWO THE EXTENT OF RADICAL FEMINISM UGHDHHHG OOHghhuhh OuhchhHHhn SHAKING .

AND I JUST LEARNED ABOUT RIKI WILCHINS AND THEY WERE A TRANSSEXUAL LESBIAN FEMINST!!!!! TRANSSEXUAL LESBIAN FEMINIST A BEAUTIFUL PHRASE AND NOW WERE IN AN AGE WHERE QUEER NON-LESBIANS ARE LESPHOBIC AND DAMN THE ENTIRETY OF LESBIAN FEMINISM WHILE TERFS DAMN THE ENTIRETY OF QUEERNESS AS IF LESBIANISM CAN EXIST WITHOUT IT OR TRANSNESS AND I JUST.........IDK im crying im rocking back and forth i am holding my temples those who do not know their history will be doomed to repeat it truly

[alpydk]

Eclipse (Part 3) - "Wish"

As Elminster left her home, his eyes passed over the traces of the magical essence that seemed drawn to her, a glowing around her that left his heart broken knowing what was to come; another potential that he may have to play the role in guiding, another pawn in Mystra’s games.3

Ao3 Link

She’d had her eyes on him for some time, the young boy with the natural gift of the weave flowing through his fingertips. It had been centuries or what felt like that since such a mortal had shown capabilities such as his, and for some time she gazed at him from the Outer Planes of her existence. Gale of Waterdeep; he had the potential to be magnificent, to be her chosen as Elminster and so many others had been before him.

Mystra watched as he grew from a young boy with guilt-filled tears in his eyes over burnt roses, to when he became a young man, confident and knowledgeable. Blackstaff had been the perfect proving ground for him, allowing him to be moulded into something she deemed useful, something powerful. As he conjured stars and gazed at clouds, she made plans for him, plans where he would protect the weave that he was indebted to. She gave him time to say goodbye to those around him, promises of his return before he reported to her, before she struck.

To love a goddess is what so many wished for and to be loved by one was more than most could even comprehend, but she gave it to him, nonetheless. There was no real time outside of the material plane, only the flow of energy, of their bodies wrapped together, entwined as if they were strands of the Weave itself. Days passed on Taril, but to them it was minutes, decades, centuries, or mere moments of passion and yearning. Times that she’d had before, with so many others, with Elminster, with Kelemvor, and now with young Gale.  

All these moments became the same though, it did not matter the face or the body; with time came unrest. She had given him all she wanted to and yet still he asked for more, more power, more ways to be better for her as she turned her back on him. To be immortal was both a blessing and a curse. Why would they always ask her for more?

She rolled her eyes as he begged and pleaded for her touch again. Like a small creature of Taril, he looked at her through those guilt-filled tears again and, rather than feel sympathy; she felt bothered by him. Like so many others before him, he wanted more than she was willing to hand over; such was the curse of mortals and their ambition.

“You are already enough.” Her words fell on deaf ears as again he tried to ask for her forgiveness. He had done nothing wrong; they had simply done everything they could together and now she was ready to move on, ready to find someone else who could light that dimming spark within her. It was time for Gale to carry out his duties as her chosen, just as Elminster was already doing. Elminster, with whom she had also grown bored with as time had gone by. Time that meant so little to her. Only a series of moments she was doomed to repeat.

She allowed Gale to leave, hoping that he would learn to accept his role. Love was always the worst of the mortal emotions to deal with, another experience she wished she could erase from her own story. If he was but another god, then maybe this would have turned out differently for them both. Gale was certainly ambitious enough, so possibly he could be what she wanted, be the one to keep her spark alive, but godhood would never be granted to him, no matter how much he wanted to impress her. He was just another expendable mortal.

Again, he came back, now with hypothetical situations, what-if’s she could not ignore, questions of the weave itself and its making, of history long buried and forgotten. She disregarded what he said as old mortal legends, of stories of bardic creation with no truths behind them. She would not grant him the power he wanted. He was to remain beneath her, like all others had before him. His role was as her chosen, nothing more, and he should have been satisfied with that.

Gale, though, of course, was desperate, finding the strand of Weave hidden from all mortals. She watched as he walked down the corridor, his fingers trailing over the dust covered tables, the oak door being pushed open for the first time in generations. She did not interfere as he read the book, as the shadows enveloped his body and he crumpled to the floor in agony. This is what he deserved for his misdeeds, for the greatest of all follies. He screamed, his voice one of nothing but terror as the Karsite weave tore him apart right down to his very essence.

Nothing at all was left of Mystra’s chosen, his body gone, and soul decimated. Gale Dekarios was dead, and there was no possibility of ever bringing him back.

She sighed as she turned her gaze from the closing book. Again, it would be left until another poor soul would find it; Gale was not the first, and as with all mortals, he would certainly not be the last. She sent word to Elminster, a request for a new potential, and observed the drop of his head at the news; so many centuries alive and still he felt for the ones he brought to her.

“Do as you must.” A dismissal of him from her plane of existence as she returned to watching over a projection of a future young girl who polymorphed a beast to protect another. A possible chosen amongst so many soon to be born into existence; Mystra’s magic granted and spread where needed to keep balance. She could sense a familiarity with this one though, a passing glimpse of a moment in time; just another interchangeable face of a loved chosen now gone.

---

“Do as you must.” Elminster had heard these words so many times over the years. Another family to give the news to of the loss of their son, daughter, partner. It never got easier but Gale, Gale was one he had enjoyed watching over, entering his life far sooner than he had others of Mystra’s chosen. Raising him and drinking tea with the boy’s mother. For Elminster, this one was not just another young mage with power and ambition; it was his family. He’d been given the information on what had happened. A lesson is what Mystra had called it, and he had felt the disappointment in all around him. If only he had protected Gale and dissuaded him from Mystra’s clutches, then maybe things would have been different, but there was little point in thinking over what he now wished for.

He first spoke with Morena and watched as she broke down in the only way a mother could do. A desperate keening to have her boy back in her life, a curse towards Mystra and all she stood for. He had wanted to ease her pain but knew that this was something he was unable to do, that the pain she felt was nowhere close to the ache he felt in his bones over this loss. He watched as Tara flew out of the window, most likely in search of a truth she wished she could find, and he longed to give her it; to bring Gale back, or to at least know he had found peace away from the realm of mortals.

The personnel at Blackstaff took the news with dignity, giving silent prayers to their goddess. He’d avoided conveying the exact information to them for fear it would lead to other ambitious magic users trying to retrace Gale’s steps. It was simply an unfortunate accident and one that even Mystra herself could not rectify. They arranged a small collection for Gale’s mother and planned to create a small memorial to him, most likely a painting for their grand walls.

Elminster’s last visit was the one he dreaded the most, to the other student he had watched grow up alongside Gale. She’d been a part of their lives for so many years, meeting Gale on her first day at the Academy as he had threatened to lick the frog from their alchemy class. Elminster had seen the sparks of young love immediately between them, the taunting comments, the blushes and gazes they tried to keep hidden from one another. Even when their relationship became official, he had tried to act surprised for them, asking questions about how long they had known and humouring their newfound love for one another. And yet he knew of Mystra’s demands and so he played his role as expected of him.

She didn’t react to his apologetic words; her face pale and eyes cold. Maybe on some level she already knew as he visited her home to convey what had happened. He gave the same vague explanation to her of what had occurred in the short two months since Gale had left and saw how she simply nodded before sitting down, her muscles growing exhausted against the waves of grief, the mindless turning of the amethyst engagement ring on her wedding finger. He could only give her the words he too had been given when he’d discovered his lover Ammaratha’s methods to bear him a child; “Even the waves of fate can break upon the shores of will.” Gale was lost forever, the fate of their love destroyed by the will of his ambition.

As Elminster left her home, his eyes passed over the traces of the magical essence that seemed drawn to her, a glowing around her that left his heart broken knowing what was to come; another potential that he may have to play the role in guiding, another pawn in Mystra’s games.

---

Gale woke the next morning in his tent at the campsite, his body aching and the orb craving another magic item. He tugged at the ring on his finger, pressing it to his chest and letting his body absorb the traces of the weave, hoping it would keep him going a little longer at least. I spy with my little eye… something beginning with R. Another memory he couldn’t recall: a ring being placed on a finger, tears burning in his eyes, knowing in his heart that something was not right with the moment.

He rubbed at his chest, trying to ease the dull ache that sat there, curious if it was caused by the orb or a remnant of heartbreak he hadn’t felt since Mystra. Though the artefacts were working well, this was not a permanent cure and soon he would have to come up with another solution. His year in the tower had done little to aid in his research. A year, or was it longer than that? He tried to shake off the sleep that was clearly affecting his senses; of course it had been a year. How could he even confuse it with anything else?

He thought over the night before and the sending message he hadn’t received. He had hoped for a reply and yet only restless slumber had been given to him, dreams that made little sense to him and words spoken that only confused him further. His hair lay messily over his forehead as a result and he shook it back, running his hands through it, his mind drifting to a night not long ago with Astarion, where there had been a quiet moment of pale fingertips exploring through dark tresses. Gale wondered if he should try to make things up with him, possibly pay him back by finding a way to remove the taste of the orb from his blood for a short while. If that failed, then wine was always a suitable alternative.

[jessequinones]

Writing Lesson: Remembering the Past

I moved from the United States of America to Australia and since then I’ve tried to rewatch some cartoons from my childhood, mainly ones from either Cartoon Network or Boomerang and I can't find them. They're not on any streaming services and I can’t buy physical copies because they’re extremely expensive. Sure Tubi might have some old cartoons such as Popeye or the original Superman, but I didn’t grow up with them. I wanted to rewatch cartoons from the 60s-early 2000s, shows such as The Jetsons, Flintstones, Yogi Bear, the original Animaniacs, Dexters Laboratory, you get the picture.

So why am I bringing all of this up when it comes to writing? Well it got me thinking that yes, while these shows were racist, and aged like milk being left out in the sun, I would argue that it’s still important to rewatch them. Not just for nostalgia shake but as a writer it’s a good idea to remember the past so we don’t repeat it.

I know, “if you don’t remember the past you’ll be doomed to repeat it” but the thing about that saying is, it’s not actually wrong, but I think it get’s overused so no one understands why we say it.

Stories change and evolve over time. The stories we read and were told as kids, might not be the same ones we tell our children because it doesn’t work for them and that’s ok. Stories are supposed to evolve over the years because they show that we as humans are evolving as well. However, if we start to no longer show the past what lessons can we learn to improve?

You see history is a funny thing, if we know our history and the lessons it brings we can do stuff to avoid making the same mistakes as the previous generations. However, if the previous generation's mistakes are lost in time, how can we avoid them if we don’t know what those mistakes are to begin with?

That’s what the saying means. Remember the mistakes our parents, grandparents, great grandparents and so on so we don’t make those same mistakes. This is one of the reasons why every couple of generations society seems to go backwards since the mistakes of the past are being forgotten or ignored and we do them again.

Now I’m not one of those people who think we should stay in the past, life was better back in the old days because let’s be honest, it wasn’t. We were just kids and didn’t understand how the world works. I think we should be able to tell new stories while also not wiping the old ones from existence just because the old ones no longer make money. Of course, they aren’t going to make money the people who like old things are old and there'll always be fewer old people compared to younger ones.

All I'm saying is that if we could keep the old stuff available for as long as possible, we should try and do so. Is the past embarrassing and racist? Yes, but so are we. As a society, many stories are being told that I already know aren’t going to age well in the next couple of decades but we shouldn’t forget about them. Keep learning, keep improving, keep being better.

If you want to reread some old books as a bit of a history project I got some for you. "The Giving Tree", "Gone with the Wind", "Lolita" (my god is that a bad story, why was that ever popular?) "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn", "Stranger in a Strange Land". I could go on but those are some classic stories that it would be best not to forget about them. It’s important to understand why they were popular and what newer lessons we can get from them.

I also understand history for most people is kind of a boring subject, and while I don’t have advice on how to make learning fun. Perhaps if you’re a writer, and don’t want to read some old books in the genre you writing in, there might be a Youtube video you could put on or something? I’m not asking anyone to do a ten-page history report, just to try and remember some of the mistakes that were being taught in the old days so we could create new and more progressive ones instead of just repeating the same mistakes and never moving forward.

[mazm-imagines]

Erik, why you hold so tightly to your "made up stories hold no value” claim? When I believe you coudl see yourself as to for example Creature from Mary Shelley book called Frankenstein

"Remember that I am thy creature; I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed. Everywhere I see bliss, from which I alone am irrevocably excluded."

The infamous quote from the Creature struck a few chords within Erik. One of the few fictional stories he let himself read.

"Yes, I am familiar with the Modern Prometheus. While I may relate to Frankenstein's Monster, I must say: there is no use for empathy. What good will it do me?"

Erik buried down his heart a long time ago. Even if he yearned to enjoy his humanity, he didn't see the point.

"Even then... when I do pick up a book, it is bound by the author's feeble knowledge of the world. It makes me yawn. At least with reality, there are many wonders to be uncovered."

"Those who do not learn history are doomed to repeat it. I would much rather not be doomed."

[thepowerisyouth]

"History is doomed to repeat itself". It always didnt sit right to me. Time to ask myself why and walk through my thoughts

The concept of time really confuses people (as it should), and any science fiction that is showing things like time travel arent really helpful.

Time is fluid in a sense, yes. But its important to note that while we are all stuck on a firey, warming hellscape known as colonizer Earth-- for all intents and purposes for the next 50 years on mortal, warming earth, time is extremely fixed +/- 1 second/yr nuance for really big heavy things on earth

When I'm talking about us mortals stuck on mortal earth-- No, I'm not talking about "Rich men shoot off to space and watch us from their ships" type people. Because 1) I dont count them as a real, feeling human beings while they dont treat me as one (fairness). Those people are monsters trying to abandon the poor in sake of something for only themselves. And 2) time will start behaving differently in space than on Earth, and those differences in technical maths can be a distraction for real Earth issues

What do I mean it can be a distraction? Well.. science that promotes ignorance & bliss under capitalism is mostly the science that gets propogated is what I'm saying. Like trying to convince people a wormhole 5ft wide could appear in front of them and watching people fail to understand time from that confusing, none realistic lens

Time is 1 second. If its been a minute thats an accumulation of 60 seconds. A year is ~525,600 minutes. 100 years is literally 50 million minutes. One after another and only in that direction. During that time, every single person on this Earth felt the effects of that minute the same we do today

There are a measurable, estimatable amount of collected minutes that this earth has been around. As hard as that is to grasp fully since it would be a DAMN lot of minutes. Imagine the 1990s cell bill Earth would get

Likewise, I get frustrated a lot by the mentality that "history repeats itself". I really think people confuse feedback-effect cycling with time accumulation effects and its not at all the same thing

Political idealogical cycles represent a feedback effect. It plays into my argument about "self-destructive vs self-promoting" behavior.

The place where time comes into the argument is only for the trendline of the cycle. This trendline, time, represents an accumulation of all collective learning which has ever happened in history.

Once a collective learns something, there is no going back on that science unless all the believers of it are murdered in cold blood by genociding colonizers

This is your friendly reminder that it is defeatest, self-destructive mentality to say "history is doomed to repeat itself".

Nope. You just love being a negative nelly who votes against progressive change and is observing the world devolving from those actions on a much smaller timeframe than human development has trended these social concepts exponentially upward

"Narrow minded" I guess is fitting here

[inquisimer]

❛ i can’t do this without you. ❜ for surana and anders PLEASE (and thank you if you decide to indulge me) PS happy friday :D

I think you're the one indulging ME, letting me write my angst Circle friends🥺🥰 wc: 1326

for @dadrunkwriting

~~~

The sixth time they brought Anders back to the tower, she didn’t see him for a year.

They all knew about the cells in the basement, dank and dark and fitted with manacles that they kept clamped around your extremities all hours of the day. But she’d always thought it was a warning, a legend, told to apprentices without any real evidence, just to keep them in line.

Until Anders came back, looking more like a bundle of toothpicks than a person. There were bruises around his wrists and ankles and his cheeks were so sunken, she could see every bone in his face. When he first reappeared, Neria froze, unblinking and disbelieving. She lifted a hand to brush at his mottled face, but he caught her arm and yanked it back to her side.

“Not here,” he hissed. “The back closet, upstairs, half a bell past supper.”

So that was where she went.

The closet was filled with robes, ceremonial, she surmised, from the various gilded accoutrements and the plastic casing that protected them from mothballs and general wear. There was hardly room to breathe, but she slipped between the hangers with some confusion, until a hand wrapped around her ankle and yanked her to the floor.

There was next to no lighting in this space, but it didn’t matter. The image of bruises blossoming across Anders’ jaw was seared in her memory, whether she was seeing it in real time or not. She wasn’t as successful in taming her outraged, anguished expression either, based on how Anders pursed his lips and avoided her gaze.

“It’s hardly unexpected,” he muttered. “Six times? I’m luck I haven’t gone under the brand yet. Greagoir’s influence, I suppose, or Sol.”

“Or both.” Neria cupped one hand against his jaw, giving him a moment to refuse. When he didn’t, she summoned the healing magic; hardly her specialty, but she knew enough to ease this particular ache. The blood vessels calmed and his skin returned to its usual alabaster shade. Anders sighed, catching her hand before it could fall and tracing the lines of her palm almost absentmindedly.

“I’m going to try again.”

She wished she could say she was surprised. But those who didn’t learn from history were doomed to repeat it, and Anders was nothing if not an ostrich with his head buried in the sand. She flipped their hands so she was tracing his palm instead, and sighed.

“Of course you are. Don’t you ever worry about what will happen when you’re caught? Cause you know they will. Unless you can destroy your phylactery before you go.”

“Seems like that would only draw attention. And I’m sure they’ve got mine in some super special vault at this point.” Anders scoffed. “There has to be a way to get far enough that their tracking spell won’t register.”

“You’d have to go to the Marches, at least. Or Tevinter.”

“Tough trek to make alone,” said Anders, and if it had been anyone else she might have missed the catch in his voice. But she knew what Anders sounded like when he was causal, and this was faked, at best.

What was he playing at?

“Might be easier with a plan. Or an extra set of eyes.”

Oh. That’s what he was getting at.

“That is a spectacularly awful idea. Possibly the worst you’ve ever had. And that’s saying something.”

“Please Ria. I…don’t think I can do this without some help. Without you.”

His voice was scraped raw, desperate with the years spent caged and the brief glimpses of freedom he’d stolen. The stories he’d told her of life outside the Circle tugged at her heartstrings; but she’d spent so much time balancing his extremism with Solona’s loyalism. This would be like choosing sides, like choosing one friend over the other, something she’d managed to avoid all these years. And…

“This tower is all I know,” she said softly, not meeting his eyes. “It is one thing to listen to your stories, to read about places and adventures in books. Living them out is something else entirely—Maker’s sake, I’ve never even been off this island, Anders.”

He opened his mouth, and then closed it, thinking on what she’d said. However dim and tainted with bitterness, Anders had memories of a life before the Circle. He remembered his parents and the small cottage they’d shared, the children he used to entertain in the village square, walking barefoot through the rolling farmland that surrounded it, and so many other sensations that Neria couldn’t even imagine.

She knew nothing more than the cold stone and drafty corridors of Kinloch Hold. And if you believed the Templars, she never should.

Anders grabbed both of her wrists, sliding his hands down to intertwine with her fingers. His were bony and raw from his time in chains, and they dwarfed hers as they always had. He squeezed, firm and steady.

“There’s people out there who will help us. Not everyone agrees with the Chantry and the Templars, no matter what they say. Enough of the network knows me now—we could get halfway to Amaranthine before the search party hits the mainland.”

He brushed his thumbs lightly over her knuckles. “Think about it, Ria. Freedom, real freedom with no walls or guards intruding on your privacy. Freedom to choose where to go and what to do whenever you want. Freedom to…wear pants, and eat properly seasoned food.”

A snicker slipped past Neria’s pressed lips, but she couldn’t deny the temptation to sit cross-legged outside the confines of their bedroom.

Anders released her hands and moved his back up her arms, clasping her shoulders with pressure enough that she finally looked at him again. His eyes glowed with anticipation and yearning and unrestrained pleading, even sunken as they were, and an undeniable note of sincerity lined his voice when he spoke.

“You won’t be alone,” he promised.

Her heart stuttered, for he’d touched on the fear she couldn’t voice. She’d never been alone, not in all of her memories, because no mage was ever alone in the Circle. But all the space and freedom that made the outside world enticing, also meant the space and freedom to fail. And out there didn’t have a safety net of Templars or senior enchanters when things went awry. Plus, she might not be alone, but—

“What about Solona?”

“You can’t tell her,” he said immediately, straightening up and pressing a finger to Neria’s lips when she started to protest. “You know she’d go straight to Irving, and he’d go straight to Greagoir. What would be the point, anyway? It’s not like she’d go with us.”

“I know, it’s just….” Just that Solona was the closest thing she had to family. Could she walk away without notice from the person she’d shared nearly every memory with for over a decade?

“Please Neria.” His voice cracked and shattered like a window under an escaped force blast. “You deserve so much more than this stone prison and I have to go—I’ll break if I stay here. And there is no one else I trust enough to go with me. Please.”

Neria bit her lip and looked down again.

There is no one else I trust.

Solona might be her dearest friend, but Anders held a piece of her heart as well—and his escapades had made him a pariah among most of their peers. Solona would be angry and disappointed if Neria left her….but Anders would be dead, or worse.

Cold, steely resolve tightened around the fear in her throat, drawing it down until the anticipation and excitement hiding underneath rose to the forefront. It must have shown on her face, for Anders’ uncertainty vanished and a triumphant grin stretched his lips. He lifted her wholly onto his lap and buried his head in her shoulder, so her chin rested against the greasy strings of his hair.

“Where do we start?”

[canonicallyobserving911]

Buck said he doesn’t want to make the same mistakes but…

Buck is so afraid of making another mistake that he is doing everything he can to avoid making important decisions that will affect his own life and happiness. Since May 2022, he’s mentioned to three different people that he doesn’t want to keep making mistakes but the method he’s using to accomplish his goal is unsustainable.  

First, he told his ex-girlfriend in 5x18 “Starting Over” while he was breaking up with her, “I don’t want to keep making the same mistakes”. 

Second, during his conversation with Eddie in 6x1 “Let the Games Begin” he said, “Maybe I don’t want to pick the wrong couch again” after Eddie told him that he could have replaced his couch (metaphor for relationship) by now since he broke up with his ex-girlfriend more than four months ago (related post: Timeline of Couches). 

Third, during a conversation with Bobby in 6x1, he asked Bobby if he didn’t select him to be interim captain because he doesn’t have a couch and when Bobby asked him why he doesn’t have one Buck replied, “I guess I’ve been having trouble picking one out. Like I’m afraid of making a mistake again”. Buck’s problem is he wants to completely avoid making any mistakes so that he doesn’t get hurt again but his way of thinking is NOT realistic and it’s flawed because he doesn’t understand that making mistakes is a part of life.  By trying to avoid making mistakes altogether, he hasn’t realized that he will continue to make them over and over again because he’s missing ½ of the mistake making process, which includes LEARNING from those mistakes.  One of the ways people grow and become mature adults is by learning from their mistakes and there’s a quote that says, “Those who do not learn history are doomed to repeat it”.  Therefore Buck is certain to repeat his mistakes if he does not start learning from them.

When a person understands the things they did that caused them to make a mistake, they acknowledge them, learn from them and do their best to avoid doing those things again so that they won’t make the same mistake twice.  Buck can learn from his mistakes and the first thing he should do is look internally and do some self-evaluation so that he can start to address all the mistakes he’s made in the past. Then he should acknowledge the role he played in making those mistakes, accept that he couldn’t do anything to change the other person’s behaviors, learn from them and then start to move on so that he can be at ease with himself. By trying to avoid making mistakes, Buck will continue to go in circles and he will not be able to move forward because he won’t acknowledge the things that caused him to make the mistakes in the first place.  Whenever he ignores making decisions about his own life, he’s simply pushing himself closer to having a mental breakdown because he will remain unsettled and he will keep making irrational decisions (related posts: Before Buck’s Breakdown and Buck Breaks).  Lately he’s made several irrational decisions including him vying for the interim captain role in 6x1 but when he didn’t get it, he never mentioned it again and it was kind of like he just forgot about it.  He didn’t say if he will or will not continue to pursue the role of being a captain someday nor did he mention if it was still even a goal that he has for his future.  In 6x2 “Crash and Learn” he started reading self-help books without having the proper context for them along with searching for the secret to happiness after a victim named Lev died but he has yet to address the hurt he felt after the 118 left the scene of that Happiness Convention.  In 6x4 “Animal Instincts” he agreed to be a sperm donor for someone even though he openly admitted to them that he doesn’t know what he wants for himself yet.  He’s isolating himself again which didn’t work the first time when he tried to stay away from the firehouse before he filed the lawsuit since he’s outgoing and energetic; therefore it won’t work this time either because that’s not his personality.

Until Buck starts to address the way he uses unhealthy emotional and mental coping mechanisms, he will continue to delay any growth he could have achieved over the past six years (related post: Emotionally and mentally incapable of making big decisions). There are things he can do to address his mistakes but it will not be easy and it won’t happen overnight.  First, he needs to return to therapy so that he can talk through his issues with a licensed, impartial and objective person.  If he doesn’t want to talk to Dr. Copeland again, there are other therapists he should consider and if he needs a referral, Frank or Dr. Lim could assist him. Second, he needs to learn how to say NO whenever someone asks him to do something that he doesn’t want to do (related post: No is a complete sentence).  Saying no is not a bad thing and he wouldn’t owe anyone an explanation for why he would be choosing to say no. Third, he needs to learn that he doesn’t have to keep giving parts of himself away to other people just because they asked him to do it, which in the past has meant that they were doing it for their benefit and not his. Those people were only concerned with achieving their own happiness and not even considering his happiness which means Buck needs to learn that his happiness is important too (related post: Unhappy Buck).  Doing this will require him to learn how to make his own happiness a priority instead of him allowing other people’s happiness to take precedence within his decision-making process (related post: Buck being used for his parts).  Finally and most importantly, Buck should start focusing on the things he wants for his own life and future.  If he truly wants to be a fire captain someday, then he should schedule some time to speak with Bobby so that they can create a career plan for him.  Additionally if he wants a family of his own then he should talk to the person (Eddie) that he wants to have a family with so that they can discuss all the particulars together instead of assuming they know what the other one needs or wants.  In order for Buck to determine the things he wants out of life; he has to first look internally so that he can make those decisions on his own. Once he understands that making mistakes are inevitable and that he can learn from them, then and only then will he be able to identify the things that will make him happy.

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

KAEDE AKAMATSU WINS! FATALITY

Also that Monosuke pack hitting hard!

*Says smoking a blunt*

OH CRAP! KUB DOWN! KUB DOWN!

Monotaro! We've gotta get outta here! Retreat!

*Monophanie and Monotaro rocket themselves out of the lab to escape.

Hey! Get back here! We're just getting started!

Don't! ...hah...Don't antagonize them.

I'm not kidding when I say that took basically every last drop of energy out of me.

*Monokid's Exisal, piloted by Sora, turns towards Kaede, and the hatch opens to reveal the phone inside.

Oh, alright...But hey, we managed to fend them off, so that's a plus!

...

*The hatch for Monodam's Exisal also opens, and the bear peers out to look at the remains of his brother.

I'm...I'm sorry Monodam...

DO-NOT-APOLOGIZE. MONOSUKE-HAS-A-TENDENCY-TO-RUN-HIS-MOUTH-LIKE-HE-IS-BETTER-THAN-EVERYONE.

THAT-MOUTH-IS-WHAT-GOT-HIM-KILLED-BEFORE. THOSE-WHO-DO-NOT-LEARN-FROM-HISTORY-ARE-DOOMED-TO-REPEAT-IT.

Yeah...I guess...

Ugh...

Kaede!?

Hah...The room is...spinning...

*Kaede nearly collapses, but Sora uses the Exisal's arm to catch her.

I think her wounds might have reopened.

SHE-WILL-BE-FINE-IF-WE-GET-HER-TO-THE-MEDICAL-BAY.

Alright...But I'M carrying her.

VERY-WELL.

*With the threat pushed back for now, Sora carries Kaede using the Exisal, while Monodam follows.

[inkofamethyst]

November 11, 2022

I actually did the worst on my open book popgen exam lol (not that it mattered anyway).  I’m in a good place grade-wise, I think.

You know, all of these programs conveniently leave out the fact that not only do you have to submit a personal statement, but you have to also write four, five, six other little essays on random (they’re related) topics.  Like,,, HUH.  I just thought I’d pop in with a quick “boy howdy I wanna be a scientist, a woman in stem, a personified bunsen burner” and then be met with a round of applause and a stipend but apparently that’s not enough these days.

Also some of my apps are asking about my sexuality and that was definitely not a thing four years ago and like idk I know some ace folk feel like they fit in the queer community and that’s totally fine and I love my little hahaheehee’s on acetok but putting it in writing (yes, I recognize the irony considering the nature of this blog)???  FIRST of all I don’t know if this is real or if it’s purity culture-induced guilt.  I could get married and it all falls away and suddenly you’ve got a sexual being on your hands (one in need of therapy tho bc I’ve heard it’s a difficult switch to make).  SECOND what if it changes.  I dunno I just.. there is no truly permanent sense of self and.. ugh.  I mean I could say I’m aro/ace and they’ll be like “wow so she won’t be distracted by boys she’s a safe bet” but what they don’t know is that I’ll be distracted by everything else.

On a lighter note, listen.  I get it, LMM maybe wasn’t at all what we were expecting from Hermes.  I love the jokes, I think they’re silly because, ultimately, that man is a dork.  A theatre kid (who makes pretty bangin music ngl).  All adult theatre kids deserve ridicule.  No exceptions.  Obviously I want him to do well because I want the show to be good and I trust Rick.  I love the silly jokes, but I feel a little bad bc we’re circling back to that time on tiktok when Hamilton had just been released on D+ and everyone was watching it and making fun of the guy even though he wasn’t doing anything except loving being on stage.

And, breaking news, it turns out that I may not get into that education class after all which kind of sucks.  I have to wait until the start of next semester to see if the section has seats available at which point anyone will be able to register.  Until then, I’m registered for a greek art class in its place.

Lastly, it’s surprisingly easy to slip into supporting eugenics and I blame this on the fact that geneticists find eugenics to be so abhorrent and such an uncomfortable part of the discipline’s history that it’s rarely actually discussed or taught.  And this is the same problem with minimizing slavery or the holocaust or the treatment of indigenous Americans.  Those who do not learn and critically consider history are doomed to repeat it.  Scientists have an ethical responsibility to go beyond providing data.  They must nip misinterpretations in the bud by addressing the context of their work.  We read an article (more like a saga of articles, it was the scientific equivalent of a fight over twitter) in popgen which got me completely wired by the way that it used eugenics rhetoric without addressing that issue explicitly, and that feels so much more irresponsible than saying your a eugenics advocate outright (my prof had to assure me that the author was not, in fact, a eugenics guy).  I just... science doesn’t exist in a vacuum, and we live in an age where information is readily available to any person at any time.  Scientists need to keep that in mind and consider the social ramifications of their work, especially if it relates to humans.  Neutral science does not exist!!  We’re all influenced by the context in which we are raised!!  Anyway, back to the original point, eugenics should be taught sensitively in science classes so that people understand a) how to detect the warning signs of a budding eugenics-based argument and b) why they’re wrong to begin with.  Only then can we civilly discuss issues like how to mitigate the problems of the (fairly theoretical to begin with) human genetic load or whatever.

Today I’m thankful for the walks promenades I took last night and tonight!!  It was decently warm and I just needed to blow off some steam (we’re a mere week into daylight savings and I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate how sunset starts at 2 pm I hate how I feel down more often now).  Plus CRC3E38 was released yesterday and I tore through that thing on my walks.  I’m thankful that there’s a big open area on campus where people often frequent so I feel safe walking at night.  I’m thankful that I, a patron of the arts, went to see an (free) a capella show tonight, a lovely and uniquely collegiate experience.  I’m thankful that my cello-friend liked my arrangement draft!!  Finally, I’m thankful that I know people who will straight up tell me who the red flags in my field of choice are because I was definitely unknowingly flying close to one.

[almaqead]

"The Surrender." Conclusion to Surah 12, Yusuf.

Worship of God is the same regardless of the religion: not through a dream of peace but within its effort. The Quran however, insists on calling God by Allah, "the measurement", which is endemic only to Arabic, and this sets the faith of Islam apart from all the others.

Muhammad's hypothesis from the beginning of the Quran to the end is God's behaviors which are obvious, and man's which are latent. The two are doomed to be far apart unless man surrenders his hidden plans and works out in the open for peace.

Following concludes the Surah called Yusuf, "to quieten in the name of God."

12: 106-111:

"And most of them do not believe in Allah without associating others with Him ˹in worship˺.

Do they feel secure that an overwhelming torment from Allah will not overtake them, or that the Hour will not take them by surprise when they least expect ˹it˺?

Say, ˹O Prophet,˺ “This is my way. I invite to Allah with insight—I and those who follow me. Glory be to Allah, and I am not one of the polytheists.”

We only sent before you ˹O Prophet˺ men inspired by Us from among the people of each society. Have the deniers not travelled through the land to see what was the end of those ˹destroyed˺ before them? And surely the ˹eternal˺ Home of the Hereafter is far better for those mindful ˹of Allah˺. Will you not then understand?

And when the messengers despaired and their people thought the messengers had been denied help, Our help came to them ˹at last˺. We then saved whoever We willed, and Our punishment is never averted from the wicked people.

In their stories there is truly a lesson for people of reason. This message cannot be a fabrication, rather ˹it is˺ a confirmation of previous revelation, a detailed explanation of all things, a guide, and a mercy for people of faith."

Commentary:

Not enough is being done to punish the wicked and very little is being done to help those who are in need. This is not reasonable. Humanity does not need to learn the lessons associated with abandoning the will of God one more time.

Have the deniers not travelled through the land to see what was the end of those ˹destroyed˺ before them?

The fate of this place rests upon the shoulders of inspired men from each society who understand why history cannot repeat itself.

This is place is the Home of the Herafter, it must be world without end, please will you understand?

Thus ends the Surah.

Yu and Suf.

يوصوف

"The Fabric of God's Personality."