JKR is a POS

But what about the "Let's talk about the bitch behind their back like they're not in the room" song, or "singing s*** behing a bitche's back". There's a surprising amount of them.

"Belle" from Beauty and the Beast

"Scrooge" from Muppet Christmas Carol

"Maria" from The Sound of Music

"Look at Me I'm Sandra Dee" from Grease

"You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch" from How The Grinch Stole Christmas

"Jackass In a Can" from Galavant

"Phony King of England" from Robin Hood

"Stepsister's Lament" from Rodgers and Hammerstein's Cinderella

"Non-Stop" from Hamilton

And, of course, the man, the myth, the legend...

"We Don't Talk About Bruno" from Encanto

"Jack's Obsession" from The Nightmare Before Christmas

There are real labor problems here. Base pay is often insulting. Customer tips carry too much of the burden. Workers need better protections, more transparent algorithms, protection from arbitrary deactivation, and actual recourse when the app or a customer screws them over. Car-dependent delivery is also an environmental and infrastructural problem, though in a denser city I’d still be doing this work; I’d just be doing it by bike.

But when people talk about delivery work, I rarely see them talk to actual delivery workers. I see a lot of abstract arguments about convenience, consumer decadence, “hustle culture,” and internalized neoliberalism. Meanwhile, when I’m out working and waiting in restaurants for orders, the other Dashers I meet are usually people who only speak Spanish, people who read as neurodivergent, visibly physically disabled people, or some combination of the above.

I have not met this mythical Disco Elysium poor ultraliberal hustlegrinder-wannabe people seem to be arguing with. Maybe that archetype exists somewhere. If it exists among any kind of gig worker, it would probably be rideshare drivers. But most of what I see looks less like “rise and grind” and more like “this is one of the few forms of work available to people who need flexibility, low barriers to entry, limited managerial surveillance, or a way to work around language barriers, disability, burnout, chronic illnesses and injuries with symptoms that come and go unpredictably, caregiving, résumé gaps, or discrimination.”

That does not make the current system good. It means the current system is filling a real gap that a lot of supposedly better systems do not even acknowledge.

As a disabled person who is burnout-prone and demand-sensitive, contracting as a delivery driver has given me an unprecedented level of financial flexibility. I can work when I have capacity. I can stop when I’m deteriorating. I can build my day around my actual body instead of being trapped under a manager who thinks “reliable” means “able to perform the same way every day no matter what.” That matters. It does not cancel out the exploitation, but it is also not fake just because it is politically inconvenient.

And delivery itself is not some inherently decadent evil. Sometimes people live alone. Sometimes they are sick. Sometimes they are disabled, exhausted, overwhelmed, grieving, overloaded, or recovering from something else - perhaps the stress and fatigue induced by their own job. Sometimes they need medicine, groceries, or a meal that will actually unplug their sinuses instead of whatever generic community-care slop someone thinks they should be grateful for. Humans are allowed to need specificity. “Food” is not the same as “the food I can actually eat right now.”

A serious labor critique would ask how to make delivery work safer, better-paid, less tip-dependent, less car-dependent, less algorithmically punitive, and less precarious. It would ask what kinds of flexible, accessible work should exist for people who cannot thrive in conventional employment. It would ask how cities could support bike delivery, worker cooperatives, public infrastructure, and real protections without simply replacing one bad system with a moral sermon about how nobody should ever want takeout.

But a lot of the discourse does not do that. It treats convenience itself as suspicious. It treats wanting flexible work as false consciousness. It treats the needs of disabled people, immigrants, and other people who can't fit into traditional employment structures as details to be swept aside in favor of a cleaner political image.

#oh that last line gutted me #is there a place between perfect and failure?

Good news! There is!

The unmarked tomb was discovered at Svetitskhoveli Cathedral, which is located in the city of Mtskheta, in modern-day Georgia. The burial site dates back to about 250-350 CE, when Mtskheta served as the capital of Kartli (also known as the Kingdom of Iberia), which covered most of what is now Eastern Georgia.

The tomb lay undiscovered for more than 1,600 years, as it was tucked into the foundations of the cathedral; it contained the body of an unidentified woman in her 40s or 50s, along with an assortment of jewelry and a gilded writing set, which had been placed by the woman's waist. Her identity is still a mystery, but the contents of her tomb suggest that she was a member of royalty and/or nobility.

The writing set contains several different components, including a gilded pen case with the Greek muses depicted across the back, a silver frame depicting three historical figures, an openwork cover made of gold, a gold ink pot, three silver pens, and a small "pencil-box" made of silver.

All nine of the Greek muses are depicted on the pen case. The figures are divided into three rows; each muse is identified by name, and each is depicted with its own unique attributes/objects.

Above: the top row of the pen case is decorated with gilded images of Clio, Euterpe, and Thalia

The three figures in the top row are identified as Clio, Euterpe, and Thalia, which are the muses of history, lyric poetry, and comedy, respectively. Clio is shown holding a slate pencil in her right hand and a book in her left, while Euterpe is depicted with a trumpet and a wind instrument, and Thalia carries a comic mask and ploughshare.

Above: Melpomene, Terpsichore, and Erato

The figures in the second row are identified as Melpomene, Terpsichore, and Erato, who are the muses of tragedy, dance, and romantic poetry. Melpomene carries a tragedy mask, Terpsichore has a lyre in her left hand and a plectrum in her right, and Erato is depicted with a flanged lyre.

Above: Polyhymnia, Urania, and Calliope

The figures in the third row represent Polyhymnia, Urania, and Calliope. Polyhymnia is the muse of song, sacred dance, and mime, and she is depicted with a scroll in one hand and a mask in the other. Urania is the muse of astronomy, so she carries a pointed slate pencil in her right hand and a globe in her left. Calliope is the muse of epic poetry, and she's depicted with a scroll.

Above: the writing kit also includes this silver frame, which features three more figures that are identified as Menander, Homer, and Demosthenes

A small silver frame attaches to the front side of the pen case. That frame is decorated with portraits of Menander, Homer, and Demosthenes, who are identified by the Greek inscriptions above each figure ("MENAN[ΔΡΟΣ], OMEROC, ΔHMOCΘENHC"), though the inscription of Menander's name is partially damaged.

The frame fits neatly around a small ink-pot, which is then fixed to the front of the pen case, along with an openwork cover made of gold.

Above: the openwork cover was crafted from a sheet of gold, and it features an elaborate laurel motif along with a Greek inscription

The cover includes a two-line Greek inscription ("BACIΛEΩC OΥCTAMOΥ TOΥ KAI EΥΓENIOΥ") that can be translated as "king Oustamos-Eugenios" or "kings Oustamos and Eugenios." There is no written record of any king(s) by that name in Kartli, nor in any other part of Georgia, but the written history for this period is sparse, and the names of many Georgian rulers have been lost.

The writing set also includes three silver pens and a "pencil box" made from a pair of silver sheets. One of the silver sheets has a corrugated design that holds the pens in place.

Above: three pens and a silver "pencil-box" are shown on the right, while the openwork cover, frame, ink-pot, and pen case are shown on the left; the "pencil-box" is supposed to slide between the pen case and the other components

The artifacts from this unmarked tomb (along with the ink pots and styli that have been found at other sites nearby) suggest that there was a high level of literacy among the elites of Mtskheta during this period. The burial also contains several artifacts that were likely crafted in foreign workshops, reflecting the significant trade relationships and cultural exchanges that existed between Kartli and the peoples of Colchis, Greece, Rome, Iran, Armenia, Scythia, and the Levant.

Sources & More Info:

Phasis: A Rich Burial from Mtskheta (Caucasian Iberia)

Georgian National Museum: Pen Case

Colors and Stones: Writing Tools from Mtskheta

Greek and Latin Inscriptions from Classical Antiquity in Georgian History: Inscription on a Pen-Case from Mtskheta (p.269)

Hadrian and the Christians: Georgia in Roman Times (1st to 4th Centuries AD)

Phasis: Judicial Practices in Ancient Georgia (p.7)

International Black Sea University: Reinterpretation of a Late Roman Artifact

The Greeks and Romans in the Black Sea: What's in a Name? Who Might be Basilissa Ulpia from Mtskheta?

Let’s GO!!!!!!

16. lazily

Time with Spike has always felt compressed to a single point. The mingled misery and urgency of her early twenties meant that every second with him was saturated in someone’s going to find us and someone’s going to find out and no place on earth is ever going to hide me from how disgusting I am for doing this. Her late twenties, while a bit more conflicted, still had that lingering sense of guilt—that overwhelming certainty that she could never fully enjoy the sharp magnet that draws her in his direction. 

Buffy is older now, and she’s had time enough to herself, time with other people, time with Spike and without Spike. Time to heal. It’s one of those crazy things she’d never have considered possible in high school, when the bone-deep certainty of dying before being legally able to vote took up too much time and brain space to get her homework reliably done on time. 

Cookie dough takes a really, really long time to bake. Buffy’s had that time.

She kisses Spike hello in the morning and she doesn’t bite. There are moments when she does, now, and enjoys it without shame, but today’s not a bitey kiss. They picked out these freaky enchanted curtains at a magic shop that let light in through the windows in a way that won’t hurt him, and she told him it was for safety concerns, but really it’s because she likes the way his hair looks in the sunlight. The last time she saw him like this, she was nineteen years old, and he was on one of his Let’s Kill Buffy kicks because he’s always kinda sucked at just talking to cute girls.

Spike opens his eyes slowly, and the crazy thing is that he still looks at her like he did when she was twenty-one and everything was wrong with her. She likes to say that he always saw who she was going to become. He says she’s never been anything other than what she is.

“Morning, Slayer,” he rumbles.

The Amur Leopard and Clouded Leopard (which recently celebrated its 50th cub born at the zoo!)

The Sumatran Tiger

The Red Ruffed Lemur and Ring-Tailed Lemur

The Cotton-Top Tamarin and White-Cheeked Gibbon

The Colobus Monkey and De Brazza’s Monkey

And the Mexican Spider Monkey!