In the first part of chapter 6, Harry enlightens McGonagall about the planning fallacy via an incredibly maladaptive coping mechanism.
Welcome to episode 5 of HPMORALOR!!! In which we start to suspect Eliezer Yudkowsky may not be that great at this rational thinking thing.
Join us as we explore:
Framing a puppy for murder
Anthea's existential crisis
The SCIENTIFIC METHOD!!!!
Becoming disillusioned with Yudkowsky's easter eggs in record time
Sir Terry Pratchett, and how a bunch of rationalists seem to think he should have pursued cryonics despite that not being what he said he wanted (This section has warnings for dementia/Alzheimers and end-of-life discussion.)
Yudkowsky's 50% hit rate when it comes to accurately describing the planning fallacy
A couple notes from me (Elisa) about the episode below the cut.
I obliquely reference Harriet Jacobs' Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, Written by Herself. I can't recommend this book enough, it is fantastic, please read it.
I also reference Inuit child-rearing practices, and I was sort of right but sort of wrong in what I said! Here's a resource I found compiled with input from Inuit elders. I do think it's fascinating that a number of these practices, passed down as generational wisdom, are in line today's best practices for raising resilient children here in what I'll loosely call white settler culture.
This episode contains a quote in which Yudkowsky calls himself and others "heroes" in a seemingly casual way and just moves on. And we don't comment on it, but I promise you, WE HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN and we'll get to it.
Remember when pride was a sin?
Order goeth before the fall.
Remember when we stole fire from the gods?
Remember when our mothers were like, the worst,
and our fathers
had their reasons?
Remember when Saturn ate six of his children?
Chaos from calories.
Remember the great nothing of sea and sky?
Remember the flood?
Remember when blood ran the clocks,
when we tumbled the moon out of heaven
and drove thorns through our tongues?
Remember the great mother? Her tail is split like history.
She tributaries, capillaries to capulet capture:
her scattered children drink.
Remember when we lived in the swamp
in a chicken-legged house?
Remember when Hera wished for a son
and whipped ordered eggs to parthenogenesis?
Remember when the husband laid down
at the feet of his wife? Remember the lamb?
Remember when property was a sin?
Leave all things you have.
Remember what the wolves did under scarcity?
Remember when all the witches got together
and hanged the town fathers from a linden tree?
Me neither.
Remember when the regiments came?
Remember fire?
Chaos from orders.
Remember when my homegirl taught you
to play vinyl backwards and reknit Osiris?
Remember when the girls were turning into laurel trees
and the boys were turning into swans?
Remember when the angels came down from heaven
and fucked the shit out of us?
Remember how this poem is not a biography?
Remember Gaia? She loved all her children
the same. Alpha and omelas.
Remember when I gave birth to you?
Remember how you told your mother
the material world was an illusion
and she smacked you with her jewel-encrusted spoon?
Remember the queen who was feted
with her own two sons?
Chaos from hors d'oeuvres.
Remember when love was a commandment?
Remember when the girls were wine,
how their laughter fizzed like champagne floats
and we drank and drank?
Remember when the men stiffened with milk?
How we drank and drank!
You mistook the trees for the harvest again,
orgasm from chaos.
Remember when you were wet with miracles?
Remember when we could always tell what not to do
by the little piles of ash?
Every natural law looks like chaos
while you're inside of it.
Remember how late you got to the vineyard?
Remember more things in heaven and earth?
All that is seen and unseen?
Remember all the things we can't see?
Remember when the world was an egg?
Remember before it all went wrong?
Remember when pride was a catalyst?
Remember how I stopped apologizing for my body
and now my body lives rent-free in your head?
Remember when I was made of flowers?
Remember when I was made of blood?
Wearing Hecate's three faces of maiden, multiplier, swamp.
Remember when I went skinny-dipping
in an ocean of milk?
Remember how physiologically,
you're bigger than me with more upper body strength,
and how spiritually I don't care?
Remember when I hid my heart in a knotted oak
so I couldn't be killed?
Remember how I danced the night after
my wedding was spoiled:
Drowned and dragging seaweed,
order from choreography.
Remember how this poem is not a biography?
Remember when flesh was a prison?
Life sentence.
Remember the lady in a cage?
Remember how we really lost Eden?
Remember how evil is not just good backwards?
Remember when the mask of your face sloughed off
and all that was left was a hole no man could fill?
Remember that this poem is a biography?
Remember when love was a commandment?
Do you remember when pride was a sin?
-Elisa Chavez
A previous version of this poem appeared on this blog here. Apparently this was three years ago, which is absolutely fucking not okay. Anyway, happy pride my darlings, go fuck shit up in a mythical way.
Grab the THIS HOUSE horror bundle before it’s gone! Get 23 house horror projects for only $20! This bundle ends IN LESS THAN A WEEK SO GET IT WHILE IT’S HOT AND FLESHY AND GROSS!!!!!!!!!!!
In chapters 4 and 5, Harry becomes fabulously wealthy and meets Draco Malfoy. Anthea, Elisa, and Jake are joined by Ernie to discuss effecti
HPMoR and the Limits of Rationality, a podcast by MY BEST FRIEND, is back! In this episode, enjoy as we discover:
The lack of Latines in rationalism
Effective altruism, which I think I honestly was too nice about and will be meaner about in later episodes :knife emoji:
Moral arbitrage
The many errors involved in describing the fundamental attribution error
The comedy rule of sevens!!!
How much Eliezer Yudkowsky loves Lucius Malfoy, just like, loves him, man
We're still figuring out audio, so if you're picky about audio quality this may not be the greatest experience for you!
On the other hand, if you've been dying to hear people outside of rationalism talk about it and you've already listened to Behind the Bastards, this could be awesome!
In chapter 3, Harry learns about Death Eaters, and the hosts rescue jokes from a burning podcast.CONTENT WARNING: discussion of real life vi
Mea culpa for not posting this earlier, but episode three is out! Which implies the existence of an episode two. Highlights from this episode which also double as trigger warnings:
In-depth discussion of the feasibility of fantasy familial flayings
Kitty Genovese and the bystander effect ):
Elisa forgetting that Harry Potter has a lightning scar
a bit of news!! some pals and i are opening a ZINE BOOKSTORE
seattle has a program that matches folks with empty storefronts and they gave us a sdlfsdkjl frankly absolutely enormous space that will be a popup shop between APRIL 15TH and SEPTEMBER 15* (*ish) !!!
we're looking to stock zines and indie published books from anyone and everyone... the app is NOT going to be rigorous at all so please send in your stuff and we'll send you money!! i can't emphasize enough how much space there is and we need fill it in One Month hahahaha
Paper Pushers is a 6-month pop-up bookstore, print shop and community space based in Seattle, WA.
We are currently accepting consignment s
One woman's quest to understand the Harry Potter fanfic that created the modern world.
Hey it's a cool thing my friend made!!!
@runonthewater has launched the inaugural episode of her podcast breaking down Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality, aka "the fanfic that created the modern world." I am a guest!
In this first episode, you'll hear:
The first chapter of HPMoR, lightly abridged and with heckling!
A story about the worst date of my life!!!
The word "adultification" 170 times!
Join us as we learn about Rationalism, discuss the devil's threesome of Peter Thiel, Eliezer Yudkowsky, and Curtis Yarvin, and wonder at the narrative necessity of a hot and lithe Aunt Petunia.
Exciting times: Hugo-award-winning writer, podcaster, and (full disclosure) dear friend Rebecca Fraimow started a grassroots campaign to nominate my poem WHAT YOU NEED TO BE WARNED for a Hugo! (cw: Neil Gaiman, sexual assault)
This is a piece I first drafted hours after reading the devastating, nuclear work "There Is No Safe Word" by Lila Shapiro. I found the article so upsetting that I kept lunging out from the guest room to confront my parents with new revelations. Despite the tiny carbon footprint the poem has had so far (several kind people tried to blaze it, but Tumblr refused), I was honored to hear from a Gaiman survivor who found it, and found meaning in it.
If I had to pick one reason I write, that's why. In the hope that my attempts at witnessing and recording strike a chord in people who need to feel less alone.
If you would like to join this grass at the roots, I have no idea what you should do next! Signal boost? Tag the Hugos' social media accounts? I plan to scream into the void and see what happens.
Further reading:
There is No Safe Word by Lila Shapiro (archive link) - Exhaustively researched and deeply upsetting (though still, I should note, not comprehensive) account of Gaiman's abuse.
Neil Gaiman Seeks $500,000 from Accuser Caroline Wallner also from Shapiro
The Cuddled Little Vice by Elizabeth Sandifer - Crucial essay exploring Neil Gaiman's path from abuse victim to celebrated writer to abuser again. Fun fact: this piece is ALSO Hugo-eligible, as it was written in February of 2025. I'M JUST SAYIN'.
Neil Gaiman Sexual Assault Link Roundup - More survivor stories, compiled by Dreamwidth user muccamukk in summer of 2024
You are eligible to nominate for the Hugo Awards if you became a member of LAcon V by January 31, 2026, or were a member of the Seattle Worldcon 2025.
Nominations will close on Saturday, March 28, 2026 at 9:00am Pacific Time / 12:00pm Eastern Time / 4:00pm GMT.
The final ballot will be announced in April, and only members of LAcon V will be able to vote for the winners in each category.
TLDR: It's too late to join to nominate works (people who have already joined can nominate this and other works). You can still join to vote on the winners.
Exciting times: Hugo-award-winning writer, podcaster, and (full disclosure) dear friend Rebecca Fraimow started a grassroots campaign to nominate my poem WHAT YOU NEED TO BE WARNED for a Hugo! (cw: Neil Gaiman, sexual assault)
This is a piece I first drafted hours after reading the devastating, nuclear work "There Is No Safe Word" by Lila Shapiro. I found the article so upsetting that I kept lunging out from the guest room to confront my parents with new revelations. Despite the tiny carbon footprint the poem has had so far (several kind people tried to blaze it, but Tumblr refused), I was honored to hear from a Gaiman survivor who found it, and found meaning in it.
If I had to pick one reason I write, that's why. In the hope that my attempts at witnessing and recording strike a chord in people who need to feel less alone.
If you would like to join this grass at the roots, I have no idea what you should do next! Signal boost? Tag the Hugos' social media accounts? I plan to scream into the void and see what happens.
Further reading:
There is No Safe Word by Lila Shapiro (archive link) - Exhaustively researched and deeply upsetting (though still, I should note, not comprehensive) account of Gaiman's abuse.
Neil Gaiman Seeks $500,000 from Accuser Caroline Wallner also from Shapiro
The Cuddled Little Vice by Elizabeth Sandifer - Crucial essay exploring Neil Gaiman's path from abuse victim to celebrated writer to abuser again. Fun fact: this piece is ALSO Hugo-eligible, as it was written in February of 2025. I'M JUST SAYIN'.
Neil Gaiman Sexual Assault Link Roundup - More survivor stories, compiled by Dreamwidth user muccamukk in summer of 2024
For a plain text version (no footnotes), see below the cut.
WHAT YOU NEED TO BE WARNED
(OR: INVENTORY AND APPRAISEMENT
OF NEIL GAIMAN, HEREAFTER "DECEDENT")
prepared by Elisa Chavez
I.
Do you know how much beauty
there is in the world
that you didn't create?
II.
The whole time, I wanted to put my hands
to the screen to stop you coming through.
In 2007 while you squirreled away another victim,
I met you in San Diego. Asked a question.
She and I were both 18 that year,
our hair and skin the same shade
and more in common with each other
than we'd ever have with you.
But of course, I didn't know that. Then.
III.
I have read your poems.
Yikes.
If you understand you have failed,
and if you pretend not to understand
you have also failed.
Eating is not sacrifice.
Even birds know how to mimic.
For years I wished I'd never
seen those poems of yours,
but I couldn't forget what they taught me:
your hollow. Your knowinglessness.
IV.
Some of us are starting to feel
like all these stories that gleamed stardust
were really bits of ground-up glass
you tricked us into swallowing.
This is complicated by knowing
that watching us swallow ground-up glass
would probably get you off.
When I cut myself on something in my house,
the blood is scarlet.
Once I stepped on a pin,
saw an inch of it vanish in the meat
of my big toe, and all I thought was,
That's got to come out.
V.
Other men got to me, of course,
which I think is my point:
Even at your worst,
you are replaceable.
VI.
In the forest,
just past the thorned-over castle
where the princess sleeps,
there is a woman.
Do not rape her.
Turn left,
where there is another woman.
Do not rape her either.
Do not trust the you that breaks
the wishbone of no between his fingers
and spells success with it.
Do not trust the little chorus
you raised up from radishes.
Sometimes the act of handing out instructions
demonstrates why they will not work.
VII.
Don't worry. Most of us will outlive you,
and then we'll get to tell the story.
I'm drafting your eulogy as we speak:
It's an anthology
of tricks women learned to survive you,
how they chewed through
your paper cages to hold each other,
how they are putting out new leaves.
VIII.
I get my mushrooms from the supermarket
or the farmer's stand.
I am not a myth about creation.
Just like you are a master
of holding the truth underwater
until it stops moving.
You ghost.
You could strip a thousand women
and you still wouldn't have
anything.
Hello new friends and old! I have some news I've been dying to share with all of you.
In 2025, I spent 6 months attending a far-right Christian nationalist church here in Seattle. Now I'm working on a memoir project about it!
Elisa, what?
You may remember I've written on this subject before. This church was part of an anti-LGBTQ+ hate rally that took place in my neighborhood park, Cal Anderson. I did what I normally do to process disturbing events–read a bunch and then wrote poetry–but I still had so many questions. Why were these people in the middle of a city whose population they seem to despise? How many of them were there? How far would they take their "spiritual warfare"?
So I bought a wig and went undercover.
Can I see a photo of the wig?
Oh you know it.
REAL ME:
FAKE ME:
Okay, what happened at this church???
God, so many things. The project I'm working on is shaping up to be book-length. Highlights from my experience include:
Speaking in tongues!!
Prophecy!
Two big deaths–Charlie Kirk's and that of a parishioner in a drive-by; this latter death occurred in the parking lot of the Seattle location I attended
Watching Paula White-Cain, Sean Feucht, and Charlie Kirk's pastor speak and perform at church events
So much bigotry against the poor!!!!
Laying on hands!
Putting on ANOTHER wig to protest the same church I was attending as part of a Chappell Roan Kazoo Karaoke event
The MAGA candidate in a local city council race, who owns a New Age shop in my neighborhood, joining this church (dw she lost to the WFP candidate!!!)
Homophobia and transphobia
Worship music that violates the Geneva Convention!!!!!!
That's wild. But where do I come into this?
After my 6 months on the ground, I have pages and pages of notes, a smattering of photos, and lots of research left to go. As I collate all that I observed, I want to sharpen my approach to factor in communities I am and have been part of.
So I put together a reader survey, which you can find here: https://forms.gle/rf2Qjy7ocytw9Bj3A
If you are so inclined, fill out the survey! It's fewer than 10 questions, and some of those are just giving you the option to stay informed about the project's development.
Please share the survey link with anyone you feel might be interested!
And of course, if you have other questions or comments for me, feel free to ask them here or in asks or whatever. Be good to yourselves and each other, love you all.
ETA: In response to a survey question that felt urgent and which I can answer quickly, nobody worry about me! I am safe and have a wonderful support network.
Hello new friends and old! I have some news I've been dying to share with all of you.
In 2025, I spent 6 months attending a far-right Christian nationalist church here in Seattle. Now I'm working on a memoir project about it!
Elisa, what?
You may remember I've written on this subject before. This church was part of an anti-LGBTQ+ hate rally that took place in my neighborhood park, Cal Anderson. I did what I normally do to process disturbing events–read a bunch and then wrote poetry–but I still had so many questions. Why were these people in the middle of a city whose population they seem to despise? How many of them were there? How far would they take their "spiritual warfare"?
So I bought a wig and went undercover.
Can I see a photo of the wig?
Oh you know it.
REAL ME:
FAKE ME:
Okay, what happened at this church???
God, so many things. The project I'm working on is shaping up to be book-length. Highlights from my experience include:
Speaking in tongues!!
Prophecy!
Two big deaths–Charlie Kirk's and that of a parishioner in a drive-by; this latter death occurred in the parking lot of the Seattle location I attended
Watching Paula White-Cain, Sean Feucht, and Charlie Kirk's pastor speak and perform at church events
So much bigotry against the poor!!!!
Laying on hands!
Putting on ANOTHER wig to protest the same church I was attending as part of a Chappell Roan Kazoo Karaoke event
The MAGA candidate in a local city council race, who owns a New Age shop in my neighborhood, joining this church (dw she lost to the WFP candidate!!!)
Homophobia and transphobia
Worship music that violates the Geneva Convention!!!!!!
That's wild. But where do I come into this?
After my 6 months on the ground, I have pages and pages of notes, a smattering of photos, and lots of research left to go. As I collate all that I observed, I want to sharpen my approach to factor in communities I am and have been part of.
So I put together a reader survey, which you can find here: https://forms.gle/rf2Qjy7ocytw9Bj3A
If you are so inclined, fill out the survey! It's fewer than 10 questions, and some of those are just giving you the option to stay informed about the project's development.
Please share the survey link with anyone you feel might be interested!
And of course, if you have other questions or comments for me, feel free to ask them here or in asks or whatever. Be good to yourselves and each other, love you all.
Tu esposa dice que relucías,
y dios sabe que
necesitamos la luz.
Tu madre dice que cuidabas
de otres toda tu vida,
que podías perdonar y perdonar.
¡Ay, mamá! ¡Ay, mujer!
Jinete del coche en las calles,
poeta bella. Hay jaulas
para todes nosotres ahora.
Tu eres una perla de collar
demasiado largo.
Lamento los nombres
como rosario de sangre.
Pienso que los lamentarías también.
Pienso que perdonarías
aun a tus asesinos,
si pudieras.
She was driving an explosive.
Two tons of Subaru barreling
at three-point-turn speed.
And if she wasn't doing that
she was steaming in a sous vide
of anti-policing prejudice.
And if she wasn't doing that
she was jingling in the streets,
striking bell-hollow fear
in the hearts of our agents.
And if she wasn't doing that
she was affronting the family.
And if she wasn't doing that
she was smirking.
Consider donating to Monarca and MIRAC
More poems in the "Miss Translated" series: La sirena y el pescador | El vampiro / ICE
"Four migrants die in US immigration custody over first 10 days of 2026" (Reuters)
Reblogging myself to add this locally sourced list of organizations, donations, and trainings:
Ways to Support Minnesota’s Immigrant Communities as ICE Activity Escalates
If you are in Washington state (like meee) and you want to get plugged into specifically accompaniment/know your rights/rapid response trainings, hit me up! I am a baby volunteer with WA orgs but I can tell you how I got started and a bit about the process of becoming a volunteer.
Tu esposa dice que relucías,
y dios sabe que
necesitamos la luz.
Tu madre dice que cuidabas
de otres toda tu vida,
que podías perdonar y perdonar.
¡Ay, mamá! ¡Ay, mujer!
Jinete del coche en las calles,
poeta bella. Hay jaulas
para todes nosotres ahora.
Tu eres una perla de collar
demasiado largo.
Lamento los nombres
como rosario de sangre.
Pienso que los lamentarías también.
Pienso que perdonarías
aun a tus asesinos,
si pudieras.
She was driving an explosive.
Two tons of Subaru barreling
at three-point-turn speed.
And if she wasn't doing that
she was steaming in a sous vide
of anti-policing prejudice.
And if she wasn't doing that
she was jingling in the streets,
striking bell-hollow fear
in the hearts of our agents.
And if she wasn't doing that
she was affronting the family.
And if she wasn't doing that
she was smirking.
Consider donating to Monarca and MIRAC
More poems in the "Miss Translated" series: La sirena y el pescador | El vampiro / ICE
"Four migrants die in US immigration custody over first 10 days of 2026" (Reuters)
Alpha News, our local fascist outlet that "leaked" Jonathan Ross's video of him murdering Renee Good, which also pushed George Floyd conspiracy theories, with an anchor married to loathsome fascist police union boss Bob Kroll (Liz Collin), has set up another doxx line, this time for ICE observers.
WE NEED THEM TO BE OVERWHELMED WITH USELESS INFORMATION.
Please help us! We are under occupation!
Their post about it:
This is something you can do 100% remotely that is VERY HELPFUL to stop observers from being intimidated out of doing this vital work. It is not an exaggeration to say spamming this line will save lives: the more observers we have, the fewer people ICE can abduct, abuse, murder, and send to concentration camps.
that the bible and the qu'ran and bhagavad gita are sliding long hairs behind my ear like mom used to & exhaling from their mouths "make room for wonder"--
-Renee Nicole Macklin, On Learning to Dissect Fetal Pigs
37 is not a blessed number. More like counting steps
up the tower of blood I'm heir to. Make room now for many under god
(though the state will of course except itself)
make room in your ribs for the line-movers to take
what they will, which has always been every thing.
Make room for a murderer's amble, for the candle-kick.
I watch the men's bald pates sprout hanks of fur,
their mouths swelter with bacteria. They gamble hungers
and dishonor the unburied dead, but what else is new in America?
They say power is the law. So be it;
I have to believe in the things I know, but cannot see. Necklaces of jeweled light
hanging past their appointed date, as if to say you in the dark, don't forget.
Something like agape as the Greeks would have it, "love of fellow-man."
Like a creature's pastel fluff in the glove compartment, something to give comfort
later, even though later is either impossible or a graveyard.
In the background of the news, I hear harmonies: dona nobis pacem.
And I think this is what I mean by struggle. By mutual aid.
I think I mean, make room in your diaphragm for a bigger breath.
Let alveoli crown themselves with blood. Transfigure waste
to something you can use, even if you don't know yet what for.
There is still good in your lungs. Find someone to sing with,
and make room–
CNN: Mother of 3 who loved to sing and write poetry shot and killed by ICE in Minneapolis
MPR: Statement from Renee's wife
Donate: Renee's family has paused donations to their GFM. Locals I saw on Reddit suggest donating to Monarca and MIRAC.
Renee Nicole Good, 37, mother to a six-year-old boy, was murdered earlier today by an ICE agent in Minneapolis, a few blocks from her home.
Renee Nicole Good, who was murdered yesterday by ICE, also won the prestigious Academy of American Poets Prize in 2020 for a poem called “On Learning to Dissect Fetal Pigs,” which you can read here.
You can donate in support of her wife and son here.
