Had a dream where Johnny from “The Devil Went Down To Georgia” came out as a trans woman and the response was so unanimously positive it reversed nearly all of the transphobic bills in the South. She played live in Georgia to an audience of about a third of the US.
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I saw a post saying that Boromir looked too scruffy in FotR for a Captain of Gondor, and I tried to move on, but I’m hyperfixating. Has anyone ever solo backpacked? I have. By the end, not only did I look like shit, but by day two I was talking to myself. On another occasion I did fourteen days’ backcountry as the lone woman in a group of twelve men, no showers, no deodorant, and brother, by the end of that we were all EXTREMELY feral. You think we looked like heirs to the throne of anywhere? We were thirteen wolverines in ripstop.
My boy Boromir? Spent FOUR MONTHS in the wilderness! Alone! No roads! High floods! His horse died! I’m amazed he showed up to Imladris wearing clothes, let alone with a decent haircut. I’m fully convinced that he left Gondor looking like Richard Sharpe being presented to the Prince Regent in 1813
*electric guitar riff*
And then rocked up to Imladris a hundred ten days later like
My friend. My colleague. My brother my captain my king. I too have been pondering this question, and in my mind there can be only one ultimate outcome.
This is actually my ragebait specifically to talk about AtlA Korra. I'm like, lightning bending is this symbolic art that can only be achieved by cleaving yourself from humanity and morals (thus is evil and why Zuko can't do it), and then the intro to the show has some ding dong lightning bending into a diode when you would be much better off using coal to boil water and spin an electromagnet.
This is actually my ragebait specifically to talk about AtlA Korra. I'm like, lightning bending is this symbolic art that can only be achieved by cleaving yourself from humanity and morals (thus is evil and why Zuko can't do it), and then the intro to the show has some ding dong lightning bending into a diode when you would be much better off using coal to boil water and spin an electromagnet.
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The parachute study is actually a wonderful piece of art because it demonstrates so succinctly the kind of situation where randomized controlled trials are not the gold standard of evidence, and in fact reach misleading conclusions.
Because you can't recruit people to willingly jump out of mid-flight passenger planes for science, you redesign the study to engineer a scenario where the risk to the control group is minimsed. The plane is landed.
And then, because you've removed the main reason to use a parachute, you find that parachutes have "no effect" on mortality or injury.
The constraints of performing an ethical RCT guarantee this result. A result that we obviously know is dangerously wrong to extrapolate to the real-life uses of parachutes.
Now here's the thing: The people insisting that "evidence-based medicine" says we need RCTs of trans healthcare know this is what they're doing. It's extremely well established that you can abuse these "standards" to engineer incorrect results.
SEGM and their ilk are doing this on purpose because they know it's an effective way to dress up science denial in a veneer of scientific rigor.
I keep noticing parallels between how guitar players talk about theory and how TTRPG players talk about learning systems. "It'll stifle my improvisation" buddy you play the same 3 licks over and over.
it's genuinely kind of shocking when you think about how, despite the sheer number of rpgs that theoretically feature (or at least borrow iconography of) the swordsman who uses a normal sword in one hand and nothing in the other, how few actually mechanically encourage you to do this ever
the mechanical reason for it is kinda obvious, because whether you look at it as an issue of fairness to other builds or not is largely incidental to the root issue of a "dead slot" that isn't explained by the weapon taking both hands, so eventually something usually ends up in that slot just to make sure it's not empty, but still
I see the point people are making about this being somewhat rare in real life as well, and I agree, but I'd also point out that one of the answers to what you'd have in your other hand provided by computer rpgs is very often "a second, full-sized sword"
I think there is an interesting problem here between the relationship between tabletop and computer RPGs. Older TTRPGs often state clear disadvantages to having the off-hand occupied, and they provided relatively minimal benefit to holding items like another weapon or a shield. Like, a shield generally provided +1 AC in D&D, and in AD&D 2nd, the best bonus you could get is like +3 after a lot of investment. Using the off-hand to engage with the environment, grapple opponents, use utility items, and perform funny manuevers (like grabbing poeple's weapons and other items), are often not considered or not feasible to apply to a video game. My darling BG1/2 falls for this trap because, in that game, there is relatively few reasons to use only 1 weapon in hand despite being able to invest into a fighting style to boost it, slightly. Getting, at most, a +2 AC and a +1 Crit Adjustsment is not great compared to being able to hold a magical shield or a magical weapon. Additionally, you don't need a free hand to use items like potions or wands in BG1/2, there's no grapple, you can't yoink items from enemies' hands, etc. So there is basically no reason to do this.
Video games take the fetures that are easiest to apply to a computer, and then video games feed back into tabletop games. Maximizing a free off-hand requires a game that is both really interested in combat but also does not have enough stacking factors to make that free hand completely dead weight. So games like PbtA are not crunchy enough to care whether the Character has a weapon in each hand or not, but 3.5 is so crunchy that you're basically throwing if you are not maximizing every possible part of a character that can hold another magic item for your build (as a martial-focused character). The bleed in philosophy from Tank, Support, DPS also influences tabletop games where characters have "roles" in combat (even if they are not these three). These were not exactly a thing in the past. In the past, characters did not have roles so much as they had features which somtimes synergized into a clear vision during combat, but combat was also not the sole vector of game balance consideration. Thieves in games in and off of D&D were utility characters in the old days that could resolve environmental challenges without magic. Now, they are often designed to be "DPS" or a similar "role."
Anyway, the increased focus on numbers, builds, and roles in both computer and tabletop RPGs makes the humble free-hand an increasingly vestigial element of design philosophy from an older age.
isn't it fun how quality standards just do not apply to AI?
I just had to call a customer service hotline - but now they put you through to an AI. I had a pretty simple request, a simple piece of information to be relayed to a responsible party. But the AI couldn't do that, so we went in circles (drip-drop goes the water~) until I finally got put through to an actual human person employee, who took my message and e-mailed the person and that was it.
BUT what's interesting is: I got the announcement "Your call might be recorded, please stay in the line to evaluate this conversation-" between my "conversation" with the AI and before I got put through to the human employee. Not before talking to the AI. Before talking to the actual person. Mind you, the AI failed this pretty simple task and went in circles and was useless. The employee was friendly and immediately helped me, no problem. But I can only evaluate her, not the crap AI.
Any negative evaluation on my part would reflect poorly on the person who helped me, so obviously I give a positive evaluation - but that also means that from the perspective of the company, customer satisfaction remains constant ("yay AI was a success!") OR it gets worse for the human employees when people take out their frustration with the AI on them. Pisses me off.
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So Kylian got brutalized and insulted by the Paraguayans for 100 minutes straight but somehow he's an arrogant asshole for wanting to celebrate his win instead of shaking hands with that piece of shit? And isn't it funny that no one has a problem with that man throwing the ball at Kylian when it's objectively a much more disrespectful thing to do...
If the roles were reversed they would've said Kylian was an arrogant asshole resorting to violence because he can't handle rejection but since it's that white man being agressive they found a way to victimize him instead
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)
Well.
It's not quite an hour into July 5th.
I am very tired, may have destroyed my sense of smell, and am not sure if I'm proud of or VERY disappointed in my fellow citizens.
On one hand: FAR fewer fireworks parties this year!
- Only nine to last year's thirteen
- three of them had the good sense to be firing their recreational explosives out over the local reservoir
- That's far from foolproof
- and really bad for the fish
- also y'all are RIGHT NEXT to where the Bald Eagles are nesting
- but congratulations on at least attempting some risk mitigation!
On the other hand.
Absolutely NOBODY questioned why the hell I was out spraying weeds.
- In a Hazmat Suit (technically it's a coverall for painting rooms, which is much more breathable, but looks the part)
- In a Residential Area
- After Dark
- On a Federal Holiday
Like I'm glad I didn't get into a fight or something, but like.
I was Ready.
I had that conversation locked and loaded.
I MADE BUSINESS CARDS.
...But instead of Very Reasonably asking What The Fuck I Was Doing, the crowds at these parties saw me (5'0" flat, potato-shaped, sweating profusely) trundling up on the slowest and least-intimidating motor vehicle in the county*, hanging a bit out the side to spray thistles and bindweed on the streets and sidewalks**, and instead of raising a rival stink, I was instead greeted by some derisive muttering and a couple of "OH COME ON!"s, but the groups dispersed and retreated indoors or at least away from the general direction of my home.
*Like genuinely, I think Barbie's Dream Car has more horsepower than this golf cart. This thing doesn't have horsepower. It doesn't even have ponypower. It's running on duckpower. It waddles, something I didn't know a wheeled vehicle could do.
**Actually completely legal and a welcome community service in my city. Thank you Neighbor Barbara for telling me the exact part of city code that details what civilians are allowed to do about weeds on public roads, which is apparently "LOTS". Theoretically I could bill the city for my time tonight.
Do people not know how to Make A Scene anymore?
I was absolutely sure I was going to get filmed and shit thrown at me, or someone would call the cops. My beloved was terrified I was going to get shot. I at least had ONE woman shout "YOU'RE RUINING EVERYTHING!" at me, which isn't quite as good as being told I'm ruining Christmas, but she said it with a genuinely heartwarming anguish while gesturing to a homemade "HAPPY BIRTHDAY AMERICA!!" banner, with an attempt at rendering The Evil Orange that as so enthusiastically yet talentlessly executed I almost stopped to get a picture of it. He looked like he'd been put in a wafflemaker.
I promised my beloved that I would turn around and come home at midnight, and I did, having eliminated every fireworks party and Scottish thistle in a five-block radius despite the lackadaisical maximum speed of my Steel Steed.
The complete lack of protest is honestly shocking to me. My flabbers are completely gasted. I waddled home on the golf cart in a sort of stunned silence that this HAS worked so well. The whole world is almost eerily quiet, and reeking of vinegar.
...Which is maybe why I didn't notice the cop pulling up beside me at a red light until he rolled down his window and leaned out at me.
"WHAT'RE YOU DOIN'?" He asked, in a voice that could be used as a foghorn in emergencies.
I probably would have jumped were I not currently melting into a semblance of the Chernobyl Elephant's Foot in the heat, which was the first thing that saved me.
The second was the voice of my Grandfather, coming to my aid through decades of generational memory, to tell me his words of wisdom, usually spoken right before doing something wildly inadvisable:
The Age Of Miracles Is Not Yet Over.
"Weed Mitigation!" I called back.
"CHRIST ON A BIKE, THEY GOT YOU GUYS WORKING THE HOLIDAY TOO?" He said, in the same fontissimo as before. Apparently Officer Foghorn just talks like this.
"Yep." I nodded.
"SHIT." He blared in solidarity. "WHEN DO YOU GET OFF?"
"Just finished."
"MOTHERFUCKER. THEY GOT ME OUT HERE UNTIL GODDAMN 5 AM." Officer Foghorn whined in THX.
"Shit." I commiserated.
The light turned green.
"ALRIGHT YOU GET HOME SAFE! GOD BLESS!" He waved, and drove off at something significantly above the speed limit, and I trundled on home.
I must have still looked shocked when I came in, because My Beloved immediately got up to hug me and ask if I was alright.
"The Age Of Miracles Is Not Yet Over." I nodded slowly as the animals all battered me about the legs for attention. "...For real though, absolutely nothing happened."
"What?" he squints, wobbling slightly as Charlie tries to shove him aside for better access to me. "That's... Is it weird to say I'm almost disappointed?"
"I mean, I confirmed that I inherited my Grandfather's supernatural ability to get out of trouble for no good reason, but we knew that from the code enforcement people." I shrugged. Selene finally noticed the smell of vinegar and retched in disapproval.
"How about a shower and some Ice cream?" My Beloved suggests.
So now it is July the 5th.
- My house is not ablaze
- There are four medium-sized carnivores sleeping on me
- I am freshly bathed
- and I have a pint of Americone Dream all to myself
Here's to you, your health and your happiness, and a reminder to go make good trouble. Goodnight all.
---
(If you enjoy reading about my adventures (and the occasional curious non-adventure) I'd appreciate it if you could tip me on Ko-Fi. Apparently my Patreon link is fucked but it's basically 1 in the morning and I can't be arsed.)
Here's an idea about why kids are so anxious and depressed all the time...the environments kids are in most of the time are very stressful and don't fulfill their needs for play, rest, proper variety of foods, positive social opportunities, and freedom from fear pain punishment etc
Like everyone with any basic understanding of animal welfare knows that if you put an animal in an enclosure that is too crowded, without hiding spots, with no freedom to move around, no ability to avoid harsh and stressful stimuli, and scare it by shouting at it and punishing it, the animal will become stressed and start chewing its own fur off or hurting itself or become sick or unable to eat...
But we expect human children to grow up in these conditions and literally blame them when they develop the exact type of problems that any creature under those conditions would
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used to live in a college town that was huge on sports. 80% of small talk was sportsball and so i developed an Evil Habit: whenever the conversation inevitably turned to the upcoming Big Game i would act excited and then confused. I would earnestly insist they had the details wrong. "the game next Saturday? don't you mean the Thursday after? playing against the [predator species]? no we're playing against the [other predator species]." And so on. i would draw this argument out for as long as feasibly possible, until eventually someone would pull out their phone to prove to me my wrongness. At which point I would squint exaggerated at the screen, slap my forehead in an eureka moment, and exclaim "oh you meant the MEN'S team!!! are they doing a game? that's nice."
#i have the rare joy of living in an area where the college team people care most about is women #but that also makes interacting with anyone not from here on the subject feel very odd #like wdym you only watch the men’s version of the sport. wdym you treat that as the default?? we root for our girls here
Finally a hand sewing tutorial on a hemline that isn't just the ladder stitch! the ladder stitch disappears when you tighten it, but it's not meant for hemlines because it breaks really easily! The overlock stitch is more stable, so it holds much longer, and it won't pucker or warp the fabric!