I love it when media fucks up the wording of the Rasputin disclaimer and ends up with shit like "any resemblance to people or locations living or dead is coincidental". I'd love to know what committing libel against a dead location would entail.
#Sorry what do you mean “rasputin disclaimer” (via @big-condiments-official)
For once I'm not actually doing a bit; those "any resemblance to real persons living or dead" disclaimers genuinely exist because of Rasputin.
(In brief, the 1932 MGM Studios film Rasputin and the Empress is a dramatisation of the life and times of Grigori Rasputin which is partially adapted from the personal memoirs of Felix Yusupov, one of the principal conspirators responsible for Rasputin's assassination. The film, which was heavily marketed as being based on real events, falsely claims that Rasputin fucked Yusupov's wife, Princess Irina Alexandrovna. As both Yusupov and Princess Irina were still alive at the time, they jointly sued MGM for libel – and won. This is actually, literally the reason the practice of including those disclaimers was taken up.)
Ra Ra Rasputin
Life adapted to the screen
But doing so they slandered a prince
Ra Ra Rasputin
Felix hatched a legal scheme
And MGM was thoroughly rinsed
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I love that Jules Verne asked the question "What kind of person could circumnavigate the world in 80 days?" and decided that the answer was not a groundbreaking explorer or genius inventor, but a guy who's really, really, really obsessed with train and boat schedules.
my final paper for my CS degree was literally "how can we algorithmically optimise for the fastest possible circumnavigation route on commercial flights?", which incidentally required me to adopt a very good working knowledge of what flight options are available at what times (and also led to me accidentally memorising several hundred airport codes)
incidentally the fastest possible route seems to be about 51 hours, if you're working from 2022 schedules like i was. if you use current schedules and are very optimistic about how quickly you can transfer between flights, you can maybe get it down to around 48 hours (also known as 25 millivernes).
For those of you who aren't familiar, I live in an exceptionally flammable part of the United States, and despite the fact that every goddamn year multiple parts of my state catch fire, destroy homes and kill people, the local assholes insist on getting drunk and setting fire to a bunch of illegal explosives anyway.
In 2023, God granted me a Miracle that prevented my house from burning down.
Last year, I had to resort to Psychological and Chemical Warfare to keep the patriotic arsonists at bay.
This year is apparently An Important Birthday for the clusterfuck we have the nerve to call a nation, so despite the fact there is so much smoke in the air that the sun has literally been blood red for the last week, the pyrotechnic fetishists are out in force.
Last year, I hit upon the concept that if my neighbors were going to act like problem animals, it would make sense to use the management techniques on them that you might use on say, a Bear that was doing serious property damage. Thusly, I created The Stench, a nontoxic but FOUL smelling concoction that I could discretely spray around the flammable gatherings and render the area extremely uncomfortable to occupy for the rest of the night, forcing them to give up or move on.
If this seems harsh:
There is no story from 2024 because a grass fire was started by fireworks less than 12 miles from me and the high winds put me in the evacuation zone in under an hour.
Over fifty people lost their homes.
Errant fireworks burning my house down is a very real possibility, and I pay the price in anxiety and insurance premiums.
The Stench is noxious but harmless, and also very effective at building a buffer zone around my home. But sneaking up to parties on foot in this heat is both exhausting and nerve-wracking. There have to be more effective ways to do this
-And there is!
It involves Weeds and Business Cards :)
All of this spring, I've been battling Bindweed and my City Code Enforcement Officers.
The city code people have been professional, but the truth is that one of my neighbors is calling them on use because one of my housemates is transgender. It's extremely grating to get these notices, having to explain repeatedly that I *AM* working on the weed situation, I just have a heart condition and No Money. It's also deeply paranoia-inducing to know that the city is regularly coming by and photographing my house.
The Solution to the Bindweed is 1 gallon of high-concentration vinegar, half a cup of Borax, a quarter cup of salt, and a couple tablespoons of dish soap. Get one of those weed sprayers from a hardware store and mix it up in there. Spray it on your thistles, bindweed, kudzu, garlic mustard or whatever your local herbaceous invasive is on a day with bright sunlight, and in a few hours the entire part of the plant above the soil is Deceased. It's non-toxic to insects, pets and wildlife (just wait a few months before trying to plant anything in the area for the traces to wash out).
The only real downside to this stuff is that it smells HEINOUS.
Sure, The Stench is nauseating, but WeedFucker 5000 is genuinely painful to inhale. Again, it wont hurt people- even my asthmatic housemates can use the stuff- but boy howdy it sure smells toxic. I've got the ingredients for about 40 gallons of WeedFucker 5000 prepared and ready to go.
I've also got a disposable hazmat suit, rubber boots and gloves, respirator, goggles and a shitty little golf cart from the free section of craigslist to haul my shit around in.
I also have Business Cards!
See, the very nice officers from the City Code department left some Very Nice business cards so that I may contact them about "the fucking bindweed is gone, get off my back".
So I scanned the business card into my computer, fired up Clip Studio, and made my own business cards. I've turned my City's Abstract Triangle Logo into an Eye of Providence and the slogan of "E Pluribus Unum" to "E Plurbis Anus", Changed my city's name to a dumb pun, and stated the card originates from "The Department Of Public Nuisances".
Crucially, where the name and contact information of the real city employee has been replaced with the name and business email of the neighbor who has been bragging on facebook about calling the city code department on my home because he hates my housemate :)
It looks, at a glance, very much like the business cards of city employees. If you look at it for like 5 seconds though, there's no way it could be mistaken for the real thing.
I've printed out 500 of these bad boys and will have them on hand as I, a put-upon employee, am forced to work overtime on a national holiday doing weed mitigation, because my boss can't manage deadlines for shit.
You're mad about it? I've been out here since 5 AM! But if we don't finish by the deadline we lose the contract and I could get fired. You know what the economy is.
Here, this is my Boss's Business card- how about you send him an email about how this has ruined your barbecue?
It's golden hour now, so I'm Suiting Up and preparing to embark on some civil service in the form of Noxious Weed Eradication, and by coincidence, Fire Mitigation.
I'll report back later Tonight🫡
(If you'd like to support your local disabled storyteller in their Acts Of Public Service, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or supporting me on Patreon)
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"The America I loved still exists, if not in the White House or the Supreme Court or the Senate or the House of Representatives or the media. The America I love still exists at the front desks of our public libraries."
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The rule for making an English compound word that you didn’t know that you know is that the first word describes the second word. The second word in the compound word is more important.
For example a bluebird is a bird that is blue. A birdblue would I suppose be a blue that is bird but it certainly doesn’t mean the same thing as bluebird whatever it is.
An airplane is a plane that is in the air. A planeair just isn’t anything. Maybe it would be the air inside of a plane.
Or perhaps it would be plane air with a space in it. Because we kind of just make compound words all the time like Germans do but sometimes we put a space in there. Where you put the space kind of doesn’t stop it from being a compound word.
So think to yourself. What would be the difference between a clockdog and a dogclock? Or, a clock dog and a dog clock. Very different things, right?
Not every language does this. This is a very Germanic language thing that English does.
Which is why if someone calls English a Romance language they’re talking out of their ass. A Romance language can’t invent a clockdog or a birdblue off the cuff. Absolute fakenewsinventor of them.
You probably invent compound words/phrases all the time if you speak English. Like the recent slang thing of calling yourself an enjoyer. A cat enjoyer. A pillow enjoyer. A Mario enjoyer.
It would kind of be the same thing if you took out the space. Marioenjoyer could absolutely be a word and almost every fluent or native English speaker in the world would immediately know what it meant even if they’d never heard it before.
Found my 53yo very-much-not-online father in the kitchen today meticulously arranging cutlery on the countertop and i was like 'what are you doing' and he looked up at me with the world's most shit-eating grin and said "Your mother told me this is how you rick-roll the Youth" and i looked over and it was fucking. Loss.jpg.
i must stress that he's never seen the original comic. My mother simply showed him the shorthand symbol and he memorized it. As far as he is aware this is just a fucking hieroglyph that deals instant psychic damage to everyone under the age of 30
I think my feelings about Edmund Bertram and Fanny Price can be summed up in the idea that of all the Jane Austen heroines, she's the only one who has a zero percent chance of getting cunnilingus.
Captain Wentworth thinks there is nothing so proper as going down on Anne. Henry Tilney? You cannot doubt. Charles Bingley? Jane would be completely embarrassed but he'll talk her into it. Elizabeth needs to bring Darcy around but we know she can do it. Edward would go on his knees for Elinor. Colonel Brandon needs to protect his knees but Marianne doesn't even make a single old age joke about it. Emma can ask for what she wants but Fanny Price...
Fanny Price takes what she is given and expresses endless gratitude. And while Edmund is perceptive, he was the only one to help when she couldn't write home to her brother, he bought her the chain when she needed something for her cross... he also has this quietly selfish quality to him (the Portsmouth letter that doesn't ask anything about her and "Fanny think of me!") and a penchant for expecting Fanny to be his mirror and go along with all his expectations ("asking" for advice about joining the play and their conversation about Henry's proposal) which leaves me absolutely certain that he will just do whatever satisfies himself in bed and never think about giving Fanny anything more. And she'll be content, just like she was with his half-written little note and the endless useless gifts from Tom, and never understand that she could have so much more. Mary Crawford could have gotten head out of Edmund, but never Fanny Price.
And yes, I know I know, it was the Regency times, women are not basing their happiness on their expectation for orgasms but I can still want the very best things for them can't I?
(I realize not all people who identify as female want or like cunnilingus, but I just want the possibility to be there)
this is so correct and you know what's worse? edmund would convince himself that there's some reason it's not necessary or 'bad for fanny' or some other excuse not to do it and basically treat it like it's empirical fact when it's really just his own selfish feelings about it.
he does this in how he feels about mary crawford, again and again. not only that, he sees fanny as a person right up until the moment it conflicts with something he wants, and we all know how well-documented that is in the book.
Your tags! #it makes me so tempted to write a fix-it fic where henry crawford never elopes with maria rushworth#he is true to fanny and gives her everything she could ever dream of and edmund has to sit there and watch basically#not only does he not get mary he doesn't get fanny either and she's deliriously happy with henry because he devotes himself to her#in the way no one else ever did#and i'd possibly tell it from edmund's POV
(I want this for entirely selfish Edmund-hating reasons)
Also, you might really like this fic where Fanny marries Tom and Edmund is soooo Edmund about it:
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Not to be all "the children have forgotten the sacred texts!" but I just saw someone refer to a ship between two people who are good friends in canon as a crackship.
Hon. No. Crackship doesn't just mean "not canon". It's difficult to imagine two people who spend significant canon time together as a crackship. Crackship is when you write Galactus getting fucked by Tony the Tiger.
