There Was Only the Chase // Desdemonakaylose (Dez for short), she/her, queer, gender abolitionist, tumblr veteran since 2012. This is my main blog, mostly fandom and memes.
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it’s kind of insane how much you watch star trek run into the same brick wall over and over again with the klingons because they’ll do a good interesting episode regarding klingon society and then they’ll be like btw they’re like this because of BIOLOGY and you’re like ok man. you ruined it
similarly you’ll have characters being like oh klingons are a violent xenophobic warrior race because it’s in their blood and then you’re like ah i see this is a perspective we are going to refute by the end of the episode to gain a more nuanced and rounded perspective of klingon society and then they just won’t do that
signs at stores? émail? menu ?? instruction ? post online ? caption with andswer to question ? group hand outs ??? street sign ??? no. The Written Word Is The Enemy
#The number of compliments i have gotten for reading a thing
The ability to occasionally Read A Thing will make you a hero in your workplace, especially if it is for example an error message that tells you what you need to do differently, or instructions on unjamming a printer.
I work in tech, and much of what I do is support sales reps within the company by resolving errors with the software they use.
There is one sales rep who, every single time I send her a message or email with extremely specific instructions that will resolve her issue, does something completely different from what I tell her. Every time. Without fail. It is so glaringly obvious that she has never read even a single word that I have written to her.
So one day, she sends me a message that says little more than "(software) is broken, help"
So I do my standard song and dance of asking her what she's trying to accomplish, and what specifically is stopping her from doing that. And eventually, after much unnecessary back and forth, she tells me there's an error message. I ask her to send me a screenshot of the error message. She does.
The error message basically says, "these two required fields are blank. To resolve this, please fill in these two specific fields, and then click save."
So I take a few deep breaths.
Then I lie to her.
I message her back, saying "hey yeah, for some reason it's not loading that screenshot on my end. Could you type out the full text of the error message for me?"
Client is reporting that Some Thing Program doesn't work. I ask if there's an error message with further information about what's not working. Client says "no". I go over and ask Client to open Some Thing. Client double-clicks on the icon for Some Thing, it starts to boot, an error message dialog flashes up on screen, Client closes error message before I can read it, Thing closes after the error.
"What did that error message say?" I ask.
"What error message?" asks Client.
I tell Client to open the Some Thing again and then not click anything else. Client opens Some Thing, error message appears, Client clicks it away again.
I tell Client to stand up, step away, and give me physical control of the computer. I open Some Thing, start looking at the error message without closing it, and Client says "You should close that." I tell Client that I am reading the error message. Client is apparently accustomed to treating error messages as a kind of spam email that should be deleted as fast as possible, and gets agitated that I'm reading it.
I read the error message. It tells me what the problem is. I fix the problem. Some Thing works now.
---
Later, I start thinking about how such an error message might perhaps be engineered to be more attention-grabbing and close-resistant as a way of making people read it. It's not important for some random program here, but there are more important systems (medical, etc) where it would be reasonable to demand the user's attention because people's lives depend on paying attention to the error message.
But then people with a perverted intellect would still be thinking about ways to avoid reading the message, like dragging it off edge of screen or hiding it behind another window. So maybe the dialog box could have an always-in-front feature to override other windows, and the alert could use the computer's hardware "beep" functionality that can't be switched off by muting the regular sound system, and keep beeping... shit, I realize I'm reinventing pain, and get philosophical about it.
She was a computer programmer / analyst, a... Long Time Ago. Called in for a system she'd installed before, the office folk said they kept having problems where it Didn't Work Right (no error, a malfunction)
She investigated, and told them that could only happen if they did 3 specific things in a specific order, which they should not ever do.
So, she asked, did they ever do that?
No! Of course not, was the answer.
So she made a couple of small changes, packed up and said that should be fine, but they should call her if there were problems.
The next week
She had a call saying "We're getting a strange error message on the system, can you help?"
“This means… of Rocky, possessive. Of the speaker.”
“My.”
“Correct. But only for names.”
“So you’re calling me…?”
Rocky repeats the word: “My Grace. Yes.”
“Are there other Graces? Why do you need to specify?”
Rocky considers this, tapping his xenonite-encased claws idly against the floor.
“No other Grace,” Rocky says. “We just do this.”
“Like an honorific,” Grace guesses. “It goes before everyone’s name? Everyone you know?”
Rocky whirs in surprise. “No, no, no. Not at all.”
“Okay, then who? What makes me qualify?”
Rocky is silent for a moment.
“...Does this offend Grace?” he asks, voice lower.
Grace blinks. “No! I don’t think so. Is there a reason to be offended?”
“Good,” Rocky says, relieved. Grace is starting to recognize what Eridian relief sounds like. “No, no reason.”
“Who else do you call that?”
“You don’t have this on Earth?”
Grace considers. What for, friends? He couldn’t call Marissa “my Marissa.” That would be weird.
“I still don’t know what it means,” he settles on. “So I couldn’t tell you.”
Rocky groans in frustration. He’s a very impatient tutor. “We just say it.”
“Are you my Rocky?” Grace asks. He hits the two keys to make the my note.
“I don’t know!” Rocky says. “You decide this.”
“I decide? Who do you use it for?”
“You. Adrian. I will use it for my pebbles.”
Grace blinks. “So few?”
Rocky shifts. “I am… you do not have the word yet. Eridian who works alone often, not close to many other Eridians.”
“What, mechanical engineer?”
Rocky chitters with amusement. “Acceptable.”
“Is Adrian your only friend?”
Rocky draws back, like he’s taken offense. “I have friends. Coworkers. But different.”
So just Adrian. And him.
“This worries you,” Rocky says.
“Adrian is your mate,” Grace points out. “I’m not your mate.”
“Correct. You are not. You do not like to be a mate.”
Grace isn’t sure how to respond to that, so he ignores it.
“I’m your friend,” Grace says.
Rocky hesitates, for a second. “...Correct.”
“Like your coworkers.”
“No.”
Grace sighs, rubbing his hand across his face. Okay, maybe that’s fair. It’s not like he felt about any of his coworkers like he feels about Rocky.
“Best friend,” Grace amends. “You’re my best friend, too.”
Rocky hums. “Acceptable.”
“Just acceptable? Now you are offending me. Can you just explain?”
This makes Rocky fall silent for a minute longer than usual. Grace is half-ready to apologize and to say let’s move on and to retype his own name without the superfluous my.
“The Earth ‘best friend’ is not strong enough,” Rocky says finally. “It does not translate this way.”
Grace runs his fingers through his hair, a little nervous, for some reason. “Okay.”
“It is…” Rocky pauses. He has to pause more often, now that they’re not using the translator, to simplify his language. “It means that I am not Rocky without my Grace. You are part of… of the whole. When I wake up, I think of you. When I work. When I eat. When I think I am going to die.”
Rocky speaks slowly, but it’s still a lot of Eridian for Grace to grasp all at once. Even as he works out the sentences in his head, he can feel hot tears rising in his eyes.
“It means that when you are sick, I am sick,” Rocky continues. “And it means I will take care of you, because taking care of you is taking care of myself.”
Grace bunches up his sleeve, wiping it across his face, blinking furiously.
Rocky’s voice is soft. “So Grace is part of Rocky. Grace is like a cell. You see? My Grace.”
Grace is quiet, for a moment, trying to get himself together. When he speaks, his voice is shaky.
“...Oh.”
Rocky hums, pressing his carapace gently against Grace’s arm. “You are leaking. Does this make you sad?”
Grace shakes his head, sniffing, crossing his arms across his knees and resting his chin on his sleeves. “Not at all.”
“Good, good.”
“I feel like that,” Grace mumbles. “Just like that. Just exactly—exactly like that.”
“About your old mate?”
“Don’t act stupid. You know I’m talking about you.”
Rocky hums, burrowing closer. Grace curls one arm around his carapace. That’s not enough, so he leans over, dropping his head down so his forehead presses against the xenonite.
“My Rocky,” Grace whispers in English.
“My Grace,” Rocky echoes in Eridian. Grace can recognize the note at the start. He will add it when he plays Rocky’s name.
“How long have you called me that?” Grace asks. “Must’ve been a while. I didn’t notice it change.”
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unconvinced i'll ever find "the vitamin" that makes me all better so i can get real work done but i do expect they'll elucidate whatever my deal was post-mortem, after which what i did manage to accomplish with my life will be regarded on the level of Beethoven composing despite being deaf or Gordon Ramsay cooking despite being british
Thinking about how stratt learned about grace because everyone said he’s this rude, stuck up, egotistical scientist who called the leading scholar in his field a "staggering waste of carbon". She must’ve been so glad to have someone like that working with her until she actually met him.
To be clear, THIS is how nights of the future should be lit
This is bat friendly street lighting, which not only looks sick as fuck but allows bats to pass through without disturbance, as they cannot see red.
orange and especially white lights deter bats and prevent them from reaching feeding grounds at nighttime. Please if you can, write to your local council and encourage red street lights!!!!
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at the start of every month everyone reblogs some insane poetry that’s like “august has arrived and again I swallow my bones in the burning sun” and every time I’m like damn that makes no sense. but kind of true.
stop stop stop making appeals to some 'natural state of humanity.' war and slavery and xenophobia are in fact some of the most universal human behaviors ever recorded. humans do not have any kind of innate Noble Spirit that is being corrupted. You can just say "war is bad because it hurts people" you can just leave it at that! that should be an effective statement just by itself! shut the fuck up about Essences!
"if i had a time machine i would go back in time and kill hitler"
I would put sea mines around medieval britain. i would give hannibal barca ww2 era heavy artillery and tell him not to stop till he starts seeing gauls. i would give boudica a fucking abrams. i would appear before jesus like an angel and tell him "you gotta stop. not cause theyll kill you, youre fine with that, surprisingly, but because your fanclub is gonna spend about 1500 years making everything worse for everyone, everywhere." I would take a glock back in time and shoot romulus, shoot remus, and shoot that damn dog too just to be safe. i would be on the side of christopher columbus' ship in a scuba suit planting c4 on that bitch like rainbow six siege. i would be waging a one woman campaign of terror across andalusia to prevent the reconquista. i would be getting way out in front of that shit is what im saying,
this is the other thing I find frustrating about infodumping “discourse” such as there is—it’s not a perfect transference of pure, unbiased data. we infodump because it feels good and fills an emotional/social need that can be difficult to articulate or meet in more conventional ways. but we are human actors subject to human shortcomings. characterizing a negative response to an infodump as inherently a disdain for receiving knowledge ignores the complex human factors at play—including the possibly that the information may be subjectively interpreted, biased, outdated, or even fully debunked since you acquired it. there’s a lot at play! not all of it is ableist and a lot of it can be improved upon if you keep in mind that every human including yourself is an unreliable narrator to a nonzero degree (and understood as such by everyone else).
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this two year old doc in my notes app is titled "mouse symposium"
mouse 1: I don't get how a praise kink is like, a real thing
mouse 2: what do you mean?
mouse 1: I mean like, isn't that just normal? everyone wants to be praised, right? we are social animals, and it makes sense for approval of those around us, especially those we admire and respect, to be highly positively motivating. it's a need, like food or sleep.
mouse 3: hmm.
mouse 1: I like to be told I do a good job under most ordinary circumstances, so it would track that I would enjoy being told I did a good job in bed.
mouse 2: we know half a dozen people off the top of our heads who would be absolutely furious to be told they were doing a good job in bed
mouse 1: ok yeah, that's fair. I guess it can come across as condescending or infantilizing, depending on the circumstances.
turnnoffyourmind
dailybridgerton
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areudirty
snowghoul
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