Inktober Day 12 - Remote

Product Placement
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

Origami Around
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Sade Olutola
DEAR READER
wallacepolsom
taylor price
Cosimo Galluzzi
cherry valley forever
noise dept.

ellievsbear
Today's Document

tannertan36
ojovivo
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

Kaledo Art
NASA
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Show & Tell
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@bibulous
Inktober Day 12 - Remote

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#this is how easy it is though fr#music is your human gift (via @tuulikki)
Many conversations about atheism don't consider the existence of the second generation atheist, let alone more. Atheism is almost universally framed as some kind of personal rejection of one's upbringing, culture, family, and/or society, to one degree or another. There is not much widespread awareness of the fact that some atheists were raised that way.
But second generation and more atheists already exist, and as open atheists grow as a demographic, for more and more of them the answer to "Why are you an atheist?" is not going to be a long, involved story of self discovery or a bitter rejection, a principled decision or a sharp retort, but simply "Well, that's how my family was." Does your concept of atheism account for their existence?
How does the concept of children being raised by atheist parents make you feel? If it makes you feel uncomfortable, or like the children are missing out on something, you may need to unpack that. What responsibilities do you feel that atheist parents have to their children's religious education, and do you apply those same standards to religious parents? If you find yourself with a double standard, ask yourself if the higher one or the lower one is more reasonable to apply broadly.
The big question here is this: do you consider atheism to be an idea that can be held independently, or a solely reactive concept?
A summary of the responses so far: "Oh hey, it me, and here's the positives."
"Oh hey, it me, and here's some drawbacks."
"I'm just concerned about atheists forcing their children to not be religious."
"Every belief system can be abusive, and all children should have the freedom to make their own choices."
"Jewish atheist here reminding people that 'atheist' does not mean we're not Jewish."
"Wait, was this not already widely known?"
"What? I didn't know that was becoming common."
"I've never seen anyone bring this up before."
"I thought this was a normal part of life."
let me explain why i’m flooding your dash with posts about the harpercollins strike
As a bookseller, I want you to know that one of the worst things about our industry is the unsettlingly pervasive idea that we should financially suffer for working in it. There is a powerful idea in creative fields (as in many, many fields under late capitalism) that one should be willing to forego necessities of life – namely, an adequate wage – in order to have work that one resonates with emotionally.
In bookworld, I’d say that this is frequently aided and abetted by two factors. First, we often feel a strong sense of community with our coworkers and the book creation/promotion world at large and feel we should sacrifice personally for them; that to do so is right. Second, we have a sense that, due to a confluence of factors from Amazon monopolization to the rise of the Internet to the pandemic’s financial tolls, we work in a permanently struggling industry – that we should be willing to take the hit, as it were, to help keep our business afloat.
Neither of those feelings is accurate in an independent bookstore. It doesn’t matter how narrow the profit margins are or how close you are with your coworkers. Your labor is labor, and it must be compensated. They are even less true in the context of a multi-billion-dollar publishing corporation, where the people at the top (including the parent company’s owner, who is literally Rupert Murdoch) benefit from growing monopolization while employees are unable to afford basic cost-of-living expenses. May I remind you that of HarperCollins’ thousands of employees, many are required to live in New York City – one of the most expensive metropolitan areas in the world. While working long hours, HarperCollins staff making a starting salary (45,000/year) make $18,600 less than the average annual cost of living in New York City for a single person.
This is unacceptable. As one sign carried on the picket line read– PASSION DOESN’T PAY THE RENT.
Fair wages do.

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“Here’s my life. My husband and I get up each morning at 7 o’clock and he showers while I make coffee. By the time he’s dressed I’m already sitting at my desk writing. He kisses me goodbye then leaves for the job where he makes good money, draws excellent benefits and gets many perks, such as travel, catered lunches and full reimbursement for the gym where I attend yoga midday. His career has allowed me to work only sporadically, as a consultant, in a field I enjoy. All that disclosure is crass, I know. I’m sorry. Because in this world where women will sit around discussing the various topiary shapes of their bikini waxes, the conversation about money (or privilege) is the one we never have. Why? I think it’s the Marie Antoinette syndrome: Those with privilege and luck don’t want the riffraff knowing the details. After all, if “those people” understood the differences in our lives, they might revolt. Or, God forbid, not see us as somehow more special, talented and/or deserving than them. There’s a special version of this masquerade that we writers put on. Two examples: I attended a packed reading (I’m talking 300+ people) about a year and a half ago. The author was very well-known, a magnificent nonfictionist who has, deservedly, won several big awards. He also happens to be the heir to a mammoth fortune. Mega-millions. In other words he’s a man who has never had to work one job, much less two. He has several children; I know, because they were at the reading with him, all lined up. I heard someone say they were all traveling with him, plus two nannies, on his worldwide tour. None of this takes away from his brilliance. Yet, when an audience member — young, wide-eyed, clearly not clued in — rose to ask him how he’d managed to spend 10 years writing his current masterpiece — What had he done to sustain himself and his family during that time? — he told her in a serious tone that it had been tough but he’d written a number of magazine articles to get by. I heard a titter pass through the half of the audience that knew the truth. But the author, impassive, moved on and left this woman thinking he’d supported his Manhattan life for a decade with a handful of pieces in the Nation and Salon. Example two. A reading in a different city, featuring a 30-ish woman whose debut novel had just appeared on the front page of the New York Times Book Review. I didn’t love the book (a coming-of-age story set among wealthy teenagers) but many people I respect thought it was great, so I defer. The author had herself attended one of the big, East Coast prep schools, while her parents were busy growing their careers on the New York literary scene. These were people — her parents — who traded Christmas cards with William Maxwell and had the Styrons over for dinner. She, the author, was their only beloved child. After prep school, she’d earned two creative writing degrees (Iowa plus an Ivy). Her first book was being heralded by editors and reviewers all over the country, many of whom had watched her grow up. It was a phenomenon even before it hit bookshelves. She was an immediate star. When (again) an audience member, clearly an undergrad, rose to ask this glamorous writer to what she attributed her success, the woman paused, then said that she had worked very, very hard and she’d had some good training, but she thought in looking back it was her decision never to have children that had allowed her to become a true artist. If you have kids, she explained to the group of desperate nubile writers, you have to choose between them and your writing. Keep it pure. Don’t let yourself be distracted by a baby’s cry. I was dumbfounded. I wanted to leap to my feet and shout. “Hello? Alice Munro! Doris Lessing! Joan Didion!” Of course, there are thousands of other extraordinary writers who managed to produce art despite motherhood. But the essential point was that, the quality of her book notwithstanding, this author’s chief advantage had nothing to do with her reproductive decisions. It was about connections. Straight up. She’d had them since birth. In my opinion, we do an enormous “let them eat cake” disservice to our community when we obfuscate the circumstances that help us write, publish and in some way succeed. I can’t claim the wealth of the first author (not even close); nor do I have the connections of the second. I don’t have their fame either. But I do have a huge advantage over the writer who is living paycheck to paycheck, or lonely and isolated, or dealing with a medical condition, or working a full-time job. How can I be so sure? Because I used to be poor, overworked and overwhelmed. And I produced zero books during that time. Throughout my 20s, I was married to an addict who tried valiantly (but failed, over and over) to stay straight. We had three children, one with autism, and lived in poverty for a long, wretched time. In my 30s I divorced the man because it was the only way out of constant crisis. For the next 10 years, I worked two jobs and raised my three kids alone, without child support or the involvement of their dad. I published my first novel at 39, but only after a teaching stint where I met some influential writers and three months living with my parents while I completed the first draft. After turning in that manuscript, I landed a pretty cushy magazine editor’s job. A year later, I met my second husband. For the first time I had a true partner, someone I could rely on who was there in every way for me and our kids. Life got easier. I produced a nonfiction book, a second novel and about 30 essays within a relatively short time. Today, I am essentially “sponsored” by this very loving man who shows up at the end of the day, asks me how the writing went, pours me a glass of wine, then takes me out to eat. He accompanies me when I travel 500 miles to do a 75-minute reading, manages my finances, and never complains that my dark, heady little books have resulted in low advances and rather modest sales. I completed my third novel in eight months flat. I started the book while on a lovely vacation. Then I wrote happily and relatively quickly because I had the time and the funding, as well as help from my husband, my agent and a very talented editor friend. Without all those advantages, I might be on page 52. OK, there’s mine. Now show me yours.”
—
Ann Bauer, ““Sponsored” by my husband: Why it’s a problem that writers never talk about where their money comes from”, http://www.salon.com/2015/01/25/sponsored_by_my_husband_why_its_a_problem_that_writers_never_talk_about_where_their_money_comes_from/ (via angrygirlcomics)
This is so important, especially for people like me, who are always hearing the radio station that plays “but you’re 26 and you are ~*~gifted~*~ and you can write, WHERE IS YOUR NOVEL” on constant loop.
It’s so important because I see younger people who can write going “oh yes, I can write, therefore I will be an English major, and write my book and live on that yes?? then I don’t have to do other jobs yes??” and you’re like “oh, no, honey, at least try to add another string to your bow, please believe that it will not happen quite like that”
It’s so important not to be overly impressed by Walden because Thoreau’s mother continued to cook him food and wash his laundry while he was doing his self-sufficient wilderness-experiment “sit in a cabin and write” thing.
It’s so important because when you’re impressed by Lord of the Rings, remember that Tolkien had servants, a wife, university scouts and various underlings to do his admin, cook his meals, chase after him, and generally set up his life so that the only thing he had to do was wander around being vague and clever. In fact, the man could barely stand to show up at his own day job.
It’s important when you look at published fiction to remember that it is a non-random sample, and that it’s usually produced by the leisure class, so that most of what you study and consume is essentially wolves in captivity - not wolves in the wild - and does not reflect the experiences of all wolves.
Yeah. Important. Like that.
(via elodieunderglass)
she is reading : )
Today in Amusing Middle English, I came across an adjective meaning "noble" or "lovely" or "beautiful". It can also mean, in various contexts, "graceful," "lush," "splendid," "mirthful," or "majestic".
The adjective in question is "wlonk".
it’s really important that everyone read mallory ortberg’s sir gawain and the green knight parody
agree 100%. so important that I am going to paste the rest of it here. (one note– I think that the author goes by Daniel Ortberg nowadays, but don’t quote me on that. regardless, Ortberg is a treasure)
GAWAIN: your clothes – your hair – your face – they’re all green
GREEN KNIGHT: that’s not all of me that’s green
GAWAIN: what is that supposed to mean
GREEN KNIGHT: let’s play a game you hit me today and i’ll hit you a year from now
GAWAIN: it’s Christmas
GREEN KNIGHT: fine hit me today and i’ll hit you a year and a day from now happy?
GAWAIN: I don’t understand the rules of this game or the prize what is the end goal here
GREEN KNIGHT: are you going to try to cut my head off or what
[GAWAIN cuts the GREEN KNIGHT’s head off]
GREEN KNIGHT: great hit see you in a year
[The GREEN KNIGHT picks his head up and rides away]
GAWAIN: oh my God
KING ARTHUR: honestly my advice to you is not even worry about this
GUINEVERE: yeah do not take this seriously
GAWAIN: why would I do that that’s a terrible idea this man can’t die and I have to let him strike me in a year
KING ARTHUR: look i just said that was my advice
GREEN KNIGHT: welcome to my castle, we’ve definitely never cut off each other’s heads before, my name is Bertilak and I am a regular human color, how are you
GAWAIN: Hello thank you for your hospitality, but I cannot stay long I have an appointment with a man at the Green Chapel in a few days
GREEN KNIGHT: that is JUST down the road from here, probably you should just stay here until it’s time for that, stay here with me and my wife
GAWAIN: very well I accept
GREEN KNIGHT: oh but shoot I have to go on a hunt, like right now so why don’t we just agree to play a game for as long as you’re staying here where I bring you whatever I find during the day and you bring me whatever you find during the day
GAWAIN: what an odd suggestion why don’t I just come hunting with you instead?
GREEN KNIGHT: NO YOU STAY HERE IN THE CASTLE AND YOU GIVE ME WHATEVER YOU FIND HERE
GAWAIN: but you already own everything in the castle, it’s your c –
GREEN KNIGHT: I WILL SEE YOU ON THE MORROW
LADY BERTILAK: whatcha kissin’
GAWAIN: what? nothing
LADY BERTILAK: let’s make out
GAWAIN: I don’t feel like we should do that
LADY BERTILAK: if you don’t kiss me at least once it would really hurt my feelings
GAWAIN: well if it would hurt your feelings
LADY BERTILAK: great now you can make out with my husband tonight
GREEN KNIGHT: GAWAIN I have brought you a deer from today’s hunt what do you have for me
GAWAIN: I uh I guess I have some kissing for you to have
GREEN KNIGHT: sounds great [they kiss] ok see you tomorrow
GAWAIN: oh I really don’t want to play this game again, this is making me sort of unco –
GREEN KNIGHT: see you tomorrow
LADY BERTILAK: let’s have sex
GAWAIN: Okay, no for two reasons one is that you are my host’s wife and also it goes against every vow of knighthood ever and the second half of the second reason is that then I would have to also have sex with your husband according to your weird castle sex game
LADY BERTILAK: mm that sounds like a Gawain problem not a Lady Bertilak problem
GAWAIN: I’m not having sex with you
LADY BERTILAK: fine here’s my underwear though, you have to take it otherwise it would be rude
GAWAIN: well I don’t want to be rude excuse me, I have to go kiss your husband again
GREEN KNIGHT: Well, Gawain it’s been a great time here at Castle Makeout but you’d better go fight that Green Knight you keep talking about
GAWAIN: I will probably perish when it is his turn to deliver the blow Farewell, friend
GREEN KNIGHT: Gawain Gawain it was me the whole time
GAWAIN: what
GREEN KNIGHT: I’m the same guy and I’m not gonna kill you I’m just gonna fuck up your neck a little because you kept my wife’s underwear and didn’t tell me but you’re all right, guy you’re all right
GAWAIN: what the hell what the hell was the point of any of this why the hell did you set all this up for
GREEN KNIGHT: :)
GAWAIN: what the HELL
KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND TABLE: henceforth we shall all wear green sashes to celebrate the valuable lesson we have learned this day
GAWAIN: WHAT LESSON WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED
KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND TABLE: :)
the canterbury tales (c. 1400) - geoffrey chaucer
“hot wench summer”

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The Empress/The Wife of Bath from the Literary Tarot
Catherynne M. Valente paired the Canterbury Tales’ Wife of Bath, a widow in her fifth marriage who argues that women and men who have had multiple partners are morally equal, with the Empress, a card of beauty, femininity, and abundance.
I love this card; she’s a colorful character and I wanted to convey her clear love of living well! Warm colors and fine clothes and a smile that shows off her gap-toothed smile, which she claims is a sign of Venus, while the pomegranates on her skirt are poached from the classic version of the card. I had fun drawing her little audience’s scandalized/entertained expressions, too, although they’re so small in the background!
You can see more of the cards, and read the author’s reasoning behind each pairing, on the Kickstarter Page!
CATS + BOOKS
Anyway this Twitter thread by NK Jemisin is all I care about
Nothing is funnier to me than Mr Darcy telling his best friend not to propose to the girl he loves bc 1. Her family are unsuitable and 2. She doesn't truly like him enough to marry... only to then himself propose to a woman who is 1. From the exact same family and 2. Has done nothing but roast him since they met

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fuck it, colorful home libraries
she’s not into you shes just social