he was there during siege of the North. he infiltrated the spirit oasis. he has an uncle who studies spirits and the spirit world. he watched the sky go dark then the moon suddenly reappear like everyone else in the entire world did. and most importantly he watched zhao get eaten by a giant godzilla fish spirit.
Also, Iroh was there? He literally watched Sokka make out with the moon spirit. And you want to tell me that a romantic sap like him would not have immediately told Zuko about this romantic tragedy? Please, Zuko has known about this for ages, he just knows that this is not an acceptable situation in which to say “yeah, I know.”
i once wrote an entire academic paper with the central thesis of ‘everyone is kind of a dick to Data and it honestly kinda reflect how people treat neurodiverse people, which is also why we neurodiverse people relate to him so hard’
I’ve reblogged this post before but I just remembered that Julian and Data are friends and Julian loves some good literature. I bet he LOVES Data’s poetry.
shoutout to the words "overmorrow" and "ereyesterday". english losing these words was stupid. "the day after tomorrow" "the day before yesterday" clunky-ass constructions. revolting. i'm bringing overmorrow and ereyesterday back in my idiolect and there is nothing you can do about it
There's a lot (a lot) I hate about franchises; I love the kinds of works that get franchises made out of them, but pretty much invariably despise the franchise itself. I've always tended to dislike fanon, and at least that's free-range organic social pressure to accept whatever headcanons it's coalesced around, most of the time. Some company's focus-tested proclamations of authority are 100x worse.
That said, the single most aggravating, contemptible way that a franchise can operate—and always seems to do, sooner or later—is to insist that the works that make it up can't actually stand on their own strengths. It might seem like this character or that had a whole arc that resolved by the end of the show or the film or whatever, giving every impression that the future's going to be brighter and the character's growth will allow them to finally move forwards as a person and in their life, soon.
But a franchise will almost always look at a satisfyingly resolved arc with hope for the future, and see it as a problem. The argument is almost always, "okay, it might have seemed like they had all that growth and are going to move forwards after the story, but they didn't really, and the story wasn't actually complete. You'll have to watch Trek Wars Before Time XVIII: 2 Warp 2 Hyper, Part III to get what you need to really understand what was going on in that first one thing you liked."
And the prequels/sequels/whatever that work for me, the ones I can really love, are the ones that don't modify resolved character arcs that way. Lord of the Rings immeasurably expands on The Hobbit without suggesting that Bilbo's growth didn't really happen or that he'd need to keep repeating it for some reason. He's a minor presence in LOTR but he's very much the Bilbo from the end of The Hobbit, not the beginning.
My big fear with Rogue One is that it would sand my OT blorbo Anakin Skywalker down into generic fanboy one-dimensional Vader or he'd be much more ROTS-adjacent than OT-adjacent, without the mix of horror, menace, pathos, and occasional (terrifying) cringe that I think defines the character of the OT. Keeping Anakin to a few appearances without pushing his growth backwards or forwards for where he should be at that point, and including the quirks of his OT characterization ("don't choke on your aspirations" as an echo of "apology accepted..." <3), made it possible for me to also love Rogue One for its own sake and characters— there was no insistence that the arcs and resolutions of a completely different work that has been over for ages only seemed satisfying as a big fake-out in order to prop it up. It props itself up!
In fact, Rogue One draws on the conclusive, hopeful cohesion of the OT to underscore its own themes and arcs. When the injured Cassian asks if anyone heard and Jyn assures him someone did, we not only know from other scenes in the film that the Rebellion has heard, we've got the OT in the back of our heads, and the unbending commitment of the OT Rebellion to fighting the Empire. Rogue One doesn't say "maybe they aren't really," it says "maybe this is how they got that way." The very completeness of the OT is treated as a strength, not a problem.
This isn't an argument that Lucasfilm is The Good Franchise that doesn't pull the "lalala what arc" nonsense; it does the obnoxious franchise shit all the time. Rogue One specifically, though, steps carefully to avoid framing anything in the OT (or the prequels, for that matter) as incomplete, as any kind of fake-out that somehow needed Rogue One decades later to truly succeed as a story. Even the explanation for the fault in the Death Star design doesn't carry the sense of "this missing detail needed to be fixed" so much as an opportunity for storytelling that wouldn't disrupt the OT.
But "it seems like they finally learned X but actually they didn't" or "it seems like their future is hopeful... but actually it's bleak and full of suffering so that we can keep looping through the same story beats," or even the same for "it may have seemed like a satisfactory long-finished tragedy but sike here's your blorbo back"? Hate it, hate it, hate it.
My FAVORITE THING is researchers who wholeheartedly embrace the Ms. Frizzle aesthetic and wear their field of study on their literal sleeve. Everyone in the invasive crayfish consortium has tiny lobster-print shorts or socks. All the middle-aged dad scientists here at the lab have shirts with fish and/or fishing tackle patterns on them. My moss specimen and ammonite earrings keep getting noticed by women who are wearing silver fishbone-shaped or native plant-themed earrings themselves. Every single person on the outreach team has at least one shirt with an anchor pattern on it from Old Navy, and almost all the younger researchers have tattoos featuring their research interests – one fisheries biologist has a half-sleeve of native species she literally uses as an outreach tool. We are self-aware and having a blast with it, honestly.
they are sexually mature at ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY YEARS OLD.
their (live!) young gestate for. wait for it. eight to eighteen (??) YEARS. can have up to 10 at a time. good grief.
longest lifespan of any vertebrate, up to five hundred years
toxic flesh
has giant eyes but is usually blind because of a weird little crustacean that's evolved to live on and eat their eyes. this doesn't seem to bother them much.
lives in deep cold water and has the lowest swim speed and tail-beat frequency for its size across all fish species. just generally lives life in extreme slow motion
largest genome of any shark
eats everything including moose and polar bears
ma'am you are delightfully strange and I'm privileged to share a planet with you
i know you can just say "none of your business" but phrasing it as a question with a jarringly formal tone is the ideal way to shoot an overfamiliar unwelcome overture dead in its tracks and force the person making it to confront the boundaries they're taking for granted + it would really piss people off which is funny
I enjoy a joke about fucked up German fairy tales as much as the next nerd, but it's genuinely striking how often the source for the really fucked up stuff turns out to be "yeah, this is only in the Brothers Grimm version and doesn't appear in any extant oral tradition, and we're like 80% sure they added it themselves". To a large extent it's not German fairy tales that are fucked up, it's two specific German dudes.
“For me this glass is already broken. I enjoy it; I drink out of it. It holds my water admirably, sometimes even reflecting the sun in beautiful patterns. If I should tap it, it has a lovely ring to it. But when I put this glass on the shelf and the wind knocks it over or my elbow brushes it off the table and it falls to the ground and shatters, I say, ‘Of course.’ When I understand that the glass is already broken, every moment with it is precious.”
this was submitted as a one sentence horror story, but it feels like it could be an old jewish joke, like the one about the two rabbis proving g-d doesn't exist or the saying 'people plan, g-d laughs'
Even more, it sounds like the beginning -- the set-up -- of the joke. Can’t you hear Carl Reiner opening a bit with this line, or Shalom Aleichem using it to kick off a story?
Well I'm not quite an old Jewish man just yet, but let me give it a shot...
Losing confidence in Himself, G-d became an atheist. He decided to go down to Earth, to walk among humans and see how they found meaning.
He wandered the world until he came to a town, where he happened upon a pastor. "Come to our church this Sunday!" said the pastor. But G-d shook his head. "I don't believe in G-d anymore," he told the pastor sullenly. "And besides, I really shouldn't be working weekends." . . .
He continued wandering, and as night fell, he realized he had no money for a hotel. Walking down the darkening sidewalk, he passed many shivering folk, some young and thin, others old and worn and grizzle-bearded, looking not unlike himself. Just as the rain began to fall, he happened upon a priest. The priest looked him up and down, and said, "You look cold, my son. We're hosting a men's shelter at the church tonight; you can sleep there, and come to Mass tomorrow." This time G-d agreed. He slept well and was warm, and in the morning sat for Mass. They blessed him in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, but he felt beside himself and decided to leave.
By this time G-d was quite hungry. He stopped by a deli, but still had no money, so all he could do was watch the fresh steaming bagels be made. On a bench outside the deli, a man was eating a bagel with lox. As he finished eating, G-d noticed there were still some scraps of food on the waxpaper. Unable to help himself, he asked if he could have the scraps, before the man threw it away. "Please sir, I'm so hungry. I'd just like that crumb of bagel there, and that little shred of lox. I think I could make a bisl of fish last quite a while." The man shook his head. "I cannot in good conscience give you my trash," he said, "But come inside, I'll get you your own bagel. I'd offer to get you coffee—but that's trash too."
So the man bought G-d some breakfast and sat with him on the bench. "Thank you so much," said G-d. "How can I ever repay you?" But the man just shrugged and said, "I'm a rabbi. Buying bagels I don't get to eat is part of the job description."
G-d thanked the rabbi again, and ate in silence. "Rabbi, can I ask you a question? I feel I haven't been on this Earth too long, but already I've seen much misery. How do you do it? How do you still believe in G-d?"
The rabbi pondered this. "I believe in joyful things. I believe in kindness, and people choosing to help each other. And isn't that a kind of godliness?" (G-d suspected there was a bit more to godliness than that, but he let it slide.) The rabbi continued: "I've prayed to G-d every day for the last 30 years, and I will every day til I die. And if He answers my prayers, all the better! But tell me, my new friend, what's your name?" G-d hesitated and said, "It's a little hard to pronounce..." The rabbi chuckled and said, "No matter. Say, it won't be anything like Shabbos dinner, but my wife is baking a delightful fig pie today, and I'd like to have you over for dinner to enjoy it." G-d nodded. "I do like figs..."
That evening, G-d sat for dinner with the rabbi, the rabbi's wife, and their four children. The meal was delicious, the rabbi's family was incredibly welcoming. Their conversation was friendly but never prying, and the children laughed and played with each other. Several times, the youngest child tugged on G-d's sleeve for his attention before her father motioned for her to go play with her siblings. G-d began to see what the rabbi had meant about the joyfulness of life.
At the end of the night, G-d stood up to leave, and felt renewed. The rabbi said, "My friend, don't leave us so soon!" And G-d replied, "I will always be with you, for I am the Lord Your G-d." And they understood it to be true.
He had done this sort of thing a few times before and generally knew how it went. As expected, the rabbi and his family fell to their knees, weeping with joy and awe. He did not expect the youngest child to walk right up and tug G-d's sleeve again. He smiled graciously down at her, and she looked up with the wonderful bright eyes of a child who understands nothing but the urge to play. In a high voice, she said, "Knock knock!" G-d couldn't help but laugh. "Who's there?" He replied cheerfully.
Suddenly from across the room, the rabbi swore loudly and rudely. Dismayed, G-d asked, "What troubles you?" He saw the rabbi was trembling, half in rage and half in embarrassment. "I'm sorry Lord! Thank you for this, thank you so much for gracing us with your light, Baruch Atah and so on, it's just..." The rabbi swore again. "Thirty years of daily prayer, Lord, and a KNOCK-KNOCK JOKE is what you'll answer?"
hey captain-acab, this is the highest compliment i can bestow: it would not have surprised me had i found that story in a book of traditional fables in the shul library
Look, someone has to be the first to make up any traditional Jewish story, why not @captain-acab? If we all keep telling it, then in a generation or two it'll be traditional.
If you could have one Shakespeare play done by the Muppets what would it be?
obviously a Midsummer Night's Dream, can you imagine? Kermit as Oberon, Miss Piggy as Titania, the non-fae characters are played by the only humans, when Bottom is transformed he physically becomes a muppet, Puck is naturally Gonzo with bonus Rizzo
"I don't want to cook my chickens before they're hatched. wait. wait that's not the phrase is it. cooking your chickens before they hatch is just eggs. eggs is normal I think."
I really want to put the phrase "eggs is normal I think" on something now but idk what
