Im enjoying the longevity of tumblrs recontextualization style of humor. a seemingly innocuous post followed by like "posts that a gnome would make" or like "are you a phone"
For those who don't know, recently this Bill was proposed in Parliament in Aotearoa New Zealand by an MP from New Zealand First, a right-wing party that makes up part of our current coalition government:
This Bill proposes adding definitions of "woman", "female", "man" and "male" to the Legislation Act 2019, making these the new legal definitions of these terms that apply across all New Zealand Legislation.
This Bill ignores the fact that trans people in Aotearoa have been able to legally amend their gender markers since 1995, and that people can register their legal gender as non-binary. It also fails to account for the existence of intersex people and general variations of sex characteristics that make this binary impractical (and ironic given the use of the term "biological reality"). AND it does not take into account the fact that Māori (the indigenous people of Aotearoa) recognise multiple genders and did not follow gender roles as westerners see them until colonialism happened.
On top of all that, the claims of protecting the integrity of sex-based rights fall short when you realise that the ambiguity of what "adult" refers to here will actually potentially remove rights, especially around reproductive rights of young people.
The Bill was read at Parliament, and the other parties making up the coalition voted to allow the Bill to pass on to a select committee to review the Bill, gather information, and make a formal report for the House with their recommendations. A part of this process is accepting public submissions.
People can make submissions in support of or in opposition to the proposed bill. You can make your submission online here:
If you need support with drafting your bill, there is a guide on the Parliament website, and some helpful folks have put together a site of resources including a submission generator. (If people have more resources for support, please feel free to add them in reblogs or comments)
Submissions close on Thursday, 02 July 2026 at 23:59 New Zealand Time.
Rhetoric like this is often pushed on the message of a "silent majority" who secretly agree with it. The best way to show that isn't the case is by showing up and making our voices heard. If you are in Aotearoa, I strongly urge you to make a submission and let the Select Committee know you do not support this bill, and you do not support legal discrimination of trans, intersex, takatāpui and non-binary people in our country.
hello i am a very sad bean, i had to put my cat to sleep this week and i need Gale content to soothe my soul. Bonus points if it includes Tara or another feline companion. Start a chain/train/whatever you wanna call it for all to enjoy, now that reblog apocalypse is postponed. Pls and thanku lovely humans of Tumblr x
Hope the pain eases soon, here’s my contribution to the chain along with the headcanon that Professor!Gale totally keeps a running list of the wildest things he’s had to say out loud to his students. (Source: I’m a substitute music teacher, and I absolutely have a list like this.)
one way to combat this is to be confidently proactive and no-shame reactive. they're still little enough that they think the world of you as a parent or an adult. the key is being casual instead of shocked and upset.
"oh, i don't think that's just for girls. it's pink, but anybody can like pink."
"oh yeah, purple is a great color! colors are for everybody."
"you're right-- i am a girl. that means i have a strong body just like a boy, and i can [climb/use a drill/take out the trash] with my arms."
"hm i don't think we're letting private parts make a decision about this toy."
"if other kids give you a hard time, you can just say you like this toy (or this color) and that's why. if anyone is rude to you, it might hurt, but they're the ones being wrong."
"i think it's cool that we both have eyes that can cry if we're feeling overwhelmed or sad. it helps us communicate how we feel."
"some kids might tell you this is for girls, but it's really just for people. we can have fun and play with anything safe that's interesting. it's sad that some kids don't have adults that teach them that."
"it's important to play and learn all kinds of skills. what if you find out you like to cook? what if someday you have a friend who needs help?"
"you know who buys the MOST glitter? people who make paint for boats. guys who go fishing spend more time with glitter than anyone else."
"it's divided into girls and boys because some grownups maybe care more than they should about colors. but that's not a real rule."
like. you gotta prepare them to stand up for themselves and you gotta normalize *recognizing* and dismissing those comments, or they WILL start to win out. walk your toddler sons or nephews down all the toy aisles. let them hold a baby doll. take your girls through the hot wheels and nerf sections.
and don't make the mistake of swinging to the other extreme. trying to talk a four year old boy into the pink version, or trying to talk a four year old girl out of wanting a frilly dress are JUST as gendering. you're sending signals that they should ignore their own preferences to appease an adult's preferred worldview, and they're going to equally cave when it's in support of an ideology you don't like. let them gravitate toward what they like and give them the language to recognize it as personal preference-- to identify and disregard comments, or defend others-- even if their preference is 100% mainstream.
the goal isn't to make sure little boys have pink toys and play house, or that little girls get construction tools and wear blue.
the secondary goal is to strip away the gender-signaling in toys and prepare kids to stand up for OTHER HUMANS.
the primary goal is to equip kids to play and wear what they like without shame or fear.
and it's so fucking sad it starts so early, but it can work both ways-- you can have kids going home from the same daycare suddenly equipped by peers to say, NO I DO WANT THE TOOLBOX FOR MY BIRTHDAY, NOAH SAYS HIS MOM FIXES EVERYTHING IN HER HOUSE and I LIKE THE ONE WITH FLOWERS, SOPHIE SAYS HER DAD LOVES FLOWERS.
maybe this means liam in kindergarten spends most of his playtime with baby dolls and glitter stickers. or maybe it means liam plays with monster trucks and wears red shirts with basketballs, but will tell a peer, "oh it's cool that you like pink. is that your favorite color? i like red but pink icing is my favorite on cake." and it's because a beloved uncle or big brother or parent said, "oh strawberry icing is MY favorite, too! i always want pink icing on my cake. the cake doesn't care if i'm a boy or a girl."
or maybe liam had an experience like my five year old, where he was going across a construction store parking lot in his bright pink crocs and a man tumbled out of his SUV fifty feet away to stick a leg in the air and yell, "HEY, WE BOTH HAVE PINK CROCS!" just to be nice. because pink is for humans.
tl;dr -- i get the grief here. i've felt it, too. but the way we change this isn't with shock or dread. it's with intention and grace and being involved. in modeling conversation and comments without spite or criticism.
Summary: Hermes takes you on a "mystery date" that becomes very cute and silly, very quickly.
A/N: I'm doing it, I'm being brave and posting one of the drabbles I wrote like over a month ago but felt kinda shy about. Biggest, most fluffy Thank-You to @lickoutyourbrains for reading and rereading and encouraging me through everything.
If you guys enjoy this one I'll consider posting the others. Please let me know what you think, and as always let me know if I missed any tags!
Read on Ao3 here!
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Hermes' domains were a wide net that covered a lot. Travelers, Messages, Thieves, Trickery and Cunning, Athletes, Merchants, Speed, Language; the list went on for a while. And in keeping with the diversity of his domains, his moods and interests tended to whirl and swing around with the days.
It made for some chaotic date nights.
But really, you enjoyed the chaos; the thrill of his surprises, not really being able to guess but being able to follow where his mind was going. You could keep up with him, and he loved you for that. Therefore, date nights like tonight were surprising, but not completely out of left field.
You were bundled up in a thick coat with ear muffs on your head; it wasn't snowing yet, but it was cold enough that the snow predicted for the following days would stick, and probably make a thick blanket on the ground.
You faintly wondered if Hermes had ever made snow angels…
“Ready?” he asked at the front door of your apartment building; he was wearing a wide-brimmed hat instead of his usual helmet, and it cast a shadow over his eyes in lieu of his sunglasses. He also had a warm-looking red cloak, apparently lined with fur or some other fluff over a thin shirt that you couldn't quite see. He probably didn't need the cloak, he never seemed to feel cold, but it was important to keep up appearances when visiting public places.
So you were going somewhere that would have other people.
You huffed, checking the strap of the bag you carried to make sure it was close to your chest - he could still easily steal your wallet and phone, but it was a little harder when he couldn't just reach into your pockets. One of these days, you might just cave and buy the weird chest-strap bag that kept all your valuables up high and theoretically safe from nefarious hands. See if he could break into that…
Belongings secure, coat and muffs adjusted, you nodded and his face lit with a grin as he effortlessly lifted you into his arms. You could barely see the glow of his eyes under the shadow of the hat - the longer you dated Hermes, the more you learned to look closer for the little things. Right now, he was excited; more childlike joy than gleeful mischief, which was even more exciting for you. As much as you enjoyed his pranks and silliness, it was rare that he had this much anticipation for something.
He was usually all soft smiles and warmth, but this was bright like a star.
You tucked your face into Hermes' chest, knowing he was going to fly directly to wherever he was taking you. There would be no sight-seeing on this trip; another mystery to confuse you about potential locations. He pressed a gentle kiss into your hair before taking off, the wind quickly whipping around the pair of you as he sped towards your destination.
It was still bright out - the sun wouldn't set for another hour or two, and the light and wind surrounded you for a few moments before you felt Hermes slow and finally land. At least this time he hadn't gone high enough to make your ears pop.
You waited for his arms to loosen, looking up at him after a few moments.
“Put me down?” You asked, teasingly. He shrugged.
“Nah. It's pretty cold, it's nice to have a personal heater.” He replied. He only laughed when you lightly slapped his chest with the back of your hand, and finally released you.
“How does your hat not fly off?” You asked, noticing the tips of his hair under the brim were ruffled, but the hat itself remained secure. He shrugged again.
“God magic?” he theorized, jokingly. That was his answer to a lot of questions about his anomalies, and you knew better than to press. You rolled your eyes and huffed, crossing your arms.
“Ok, fine,” you gestured for him to lead, “where exactly are we?” He took your hand and began to walk across a rather large expanse of grass, passing a little gravel parking lot full of cars, and you could see some farm buildings in the distance.
“We’re gonna meet some friends!” the wide smile returned, as if his statement wouldn't raise more questions, but you just chuckled and followed. You were definitely on some kind of farm-store property; a place that probably did apple picking or a pumpkin patch in the fall. Right now, though, all of the trees were bare, the grassy field yellowish from winter frost, and the rows of dirt in the distance empty as the plants that grew there waited for spring.
The pair of you walked up to a little gate, where an older man was sitting with a little cash box. The man smiled as you approached.
“Well, how can I help you two?” he asked, a bit of a ‘country lilt’ to his words. You expected Hermes to wave a hand and work his ‘god magic’ on the man so he allowed you to pass, but instead your godly boyfriend handed over a real, American ten-dollar bill and responded “Two please.”
You tried not to look at Hermes in shock and confusion; he ‘paid’ for a lot of your dates, but not usually with actual money. You faintly wondered if he was starting to understand the difference between stealing from corporations and small businesses; a subject of many debates and discussions throughout your time together. You were impressed.
The man took the bill and traded it into his cash box for two bright green silicone bracelets, and began to fish out some change before Hermes held up a hand and told the man to keep the change.
The god handed you a bracelet and led you around the gate as the man wished you both to have fun. After it appeared Hermes was not going to say anything about it, you tugged on his hand, causing him to stop.
“Who are you and where is my boyfriend?” You asked, only half-jokingly. Maybe even less than half.
He bounced on the balls of his feet; damn he was really excited. “I learn things when we talk! I'm supporting some local farmers!” He defended with a grin. “I’m not only a Patron of thieves, you know.”
With that response apparently being all he planned to say, he began to walk again, taking your hand, and by extension, you, with him. The pair of you were walking around the main building which you were now certain was some kind of store, and as you turned the corner you could hear the excited jabbering of children.
What the heck.
‘Meeting friends,’ he said. You were on a farm. There were little kids. You looked at the bracelet now on your wrist which read ‘Friendly Fields Local Craftworks and Petting Zoo’ in thin yellow letters.
Well, this was certainly the most unique date he'd ever taken you on.
In the rapidly diminishing distance, you saw a series of low fences housing several animals, and about a dozen children with parents in varying stages of exasperation. Most of the little ones were crowded around a hutch of extremely fluffy rabbits, but there was also a pen with mini ponies, one with two alpacas, one with a cow, one filled with chickens, and one with a small handful of sheep. You were pleased to notice that all of the pens had little heaters for the animals, and were sheltered in case it rained.
You had to admit, this was kinda cute.
Hermes continued to lead, heading straight for the sheep who ‘baah’d at him as you both came near. This one was the farthest off, and it seemed none of the children were very interested in visiting the sheep.
“Hello, lovely ladies,” Hermes said as he leaned down and began to scratch one under its chin. You were a bit surprised; normally petting zoo animals were pretty apathetic towards their visitors, unless there was food involved. But all four of the wooly sheep had wandered over and were waiting for Hermes' attention.
“So you're the god of sheep.” You said, a wry smile on your face as you watched him pet one animal with each hand.
“Ha! You're close,” he replied, “I’m the god of shepherds. But sheep are one of my animals.” He paused, realizing you hadn't joined in, and stood back up to look at you. “Is this ok? You like petting things…” he asked, and now his face was hesitant.
You did like petting things. You constantly tried to pet the stray cats around your apartment complex, and the second someone offered for you to pet their dog you were all over those good boys and girls. You had even been to petting zoos before! Sheep were one of your favorite animals (although now you were absolutely not going to tell Hermes that). You felt your cheeks get hot, and it wasn't from wind burn.
“Well, you looked like you were pretty excited to see them, and I didn't want to get in your way…” you said lamely. In truth, you just thought watching Hermes talk to a small herd of sheep was adorable, and had forgotten you were also supposed to be interacting with the animals.
Hermes smirked, and pulled you a little closer, holding out a hand to the sheep closest to him, “here, just let her sniff you first. They'll probably feel a lot safer than normally because I'm here.”
You followed his lead, surprised when the sheep forewent sniffing your hand and plopped her little chin in your palm. You could almost believe she was smiling at you. A surprised giggle bubbled out of you; no animal had ever done that.
Seeing that there were now enough hands for all four to get pets at the same time, the whole little herd came up to the fence to vie for attention. It was strange and a little wonderful; their wool was thick and dense and incredibly warm, once you pushed your fingertips into the fleece. Hermes was saying something to the two in front of him, but you were only barely aware of that as you watched the little sheeps’ tiny, nubby tails wagging and twitching.
He was probably giving them a blessing, the big softie; to be warm and live long and always have the tastiest grass.
You had no idea how long the two of you had stood there, spoiling the little sheep with your scritches; thankfully the sun hadn't set yet, but it was a little darker. Hermes led you around to the other pens, now significantly quieter as several of the families and children left for the evening. There were still a good number of people around, but not so rowdy. One of the alpacas was interested in the pair of you, though not nearly as much as the sheep. The horses looked at you like you were some kind of aliens; as if you were the ones in the pens for their entertainment. Hermes avoided the cow, saying she was giving him a dirty look.
You knew he had a history with cows but you didn't think it went that deep…
The chickens were also quick to look for Hermes' attention, running over to the fence posts to investigate. They formed a wide clump of feathers, and would have been centered around him if there hadn't been a barrier in the way. As it were, several chickens were reaching their heads through the fencing, clucking and (apparently) trying to peck at the god. You giggled. Hermes looked around a moment, that mischievous smile on his face, and you saw him pull his hat down in the back just far enough to free the wings behind his ears, which flapped a few times at the chickens in return.
The chickens went wild, some of them darting away, some of them flapping their wings back, some almost screeching; to the point that one of the farmhands came over to make sure they weren't fighting, and Hermes had to quickly slip his hat back in place.
You'd never pet a chicken before; and the farm hand was kind enough to let you and Hermes each hold one. They were warm, surprisingly heavy, and you were taken aback when you realized the bird was purring. Not as deep and consistent as a cat’s purr, but still noticeable; the vibrations just barely palpable in your hands. Hermes' face was practically glowing in the low light, looking at you holding the chicken. After a little more cuddling of the soft feathers, and watching Hermes (probably) whispering a blessing to the other birds as well, the farmhand helped you place the chicken back in her coop, and Hermes led you to the last pen; the bunnies.
Angora rabbits, to be specific, with their carefully brushed fur and softly padded pen. A visitor could see clearly that these were the prized animals for the farm. And they certainly were cute; well-socialized and hopping over to see the newcomers, hoping for treats, clearly relaxed while being handled by the humans.
You opted not to hold a rabbit, but you did get to pet a few of them as they wandered from person to person - their fur was as silky-soft as you imagined; always hearing about angora wool being special and extra soft (and probably extra expensive) but never going out of your way to find clothes made with it.
The sun was finally setting in earnest, and the farmhands were beginning to pack up the petting area and move the animals back into their warm barns and hutches; the little country store was still open though, and it only took a little bit of begging to convince Hermes to go inside and look around.
He’d already been planning on going in, but you were cute when you made your sad-eyes and exaggerated pout.
Inside, the shop was warm and smelled like fresh cinnamon and vanilla. There were a few people milling around, looking at the different products - lots of fresh baked goods, homemade preserves, craft items, and even a cubby of milled goat milk soap. There was also a large sign on the counter that read “Chelly is OUT” in large red letters, and you assumed the tile that read OUT could be flipped to say something like IN as well.
You wondered if you'd get a peek at Chelly. You did love shops that had kitties wandering around.
Hermes unpinned his cloak so it hung at his shoulders instead of clipped at his throat, and you loosened your coat as well; the shop was nice and warm, and you were getting a little too warm under so many layers.
Hermes was definitely just showing off his shirt - a meme shirt, because of course he'd been collecting those recently...
You took your time looking at different things, eventually Hermes handed you a little shopping basket with a knowing grin, and you blushed again as you carefully placed a bottle of lavender oil for baking and a pack of flaky, delicious looking chocolate pastries into the basket. You were a bit surprised when Hermes actually added some things to the basket - namely two little crochet sheep that had a tag reading [80% angora, 20% wool] and a crochet chicken that apparently had a squeaker in its body.
Oh gods. That was going to drive his siblings insane.
And then suddenly, Hermes yelped and jumped, floating just a second too long before landing and looking down at the floor.
Looking at a little tortoise riding around on a skateboard-like contraption.
The yelp had attracted the attention of the woman running the counter, but Hermes was unbothered; consumed with the sheer delight upon seeing the little reptile appear from under the shelves.
“Oh, I'm so sorry!” the woman said frantically, “she's perfectly healthy, I promise, she just gets a little feisty when it's close to closing time, because she knows once the customers leave she gets a strawberry. She didn't bite you, did she?”
Meanwhile, Hermes had become a metaphorical kid in a candy store, sitting down right on the floor and cooing at the tortoise. He waved the woman off, saying, “She's so cute! So fast!” And then addressing the turtle, a mess of babbling that included “Look at your little wheels!”
You'd seen many moods from your godly boyfriend. You'd seen him happy, frustrated, confused, annoyed (usually by your car and your coworkers). You'd seen him drunk and giggly, when he had twirled you around until you both threw up. You'd seen him cry, though rarely; he rarely felt safe to do so. You'd even seen him divinely angry once when a nymph at one of Dio's parties asked why a mortal like you were allowed to attend.
You had not seen him like this. This was newborn-baby-cute-aggression levels of babbling. He gently scratched around the tortoise’s shell, watching the reptile wiggle when he apparently hit a good spot. (It was admittedly adorable.) You were pretty sure you could see his wings ruffling under his hat.
Thankfully, the woman was pleased with Hermes' excitement. “Oh, yes. Poor Chelly was hatched without her back legs working. My son made the little wheel board for her. She has one that only has wheels on the back, but she seems to prefer the ability to race around.”
Ah. Chelly was the tortoise.
“It's brilliant!” Hermes' replied, and then after a moment of hesitation, he surprised you again. “Can I pick her up?” He asked, almost bashful.
The woman only laughed. “Sure, if she'll let you! Just be careful, she likes to give love bites.” She patted the reptile’s shell gently and asked if you needed any help before returning to the counter to attend another customer.
Your boyfriend was still sitting on the floor.
Not knowing what else to do, you joined him on the floor.
He gently wiggled his fingers in front of Chelly, and when she didn't reach out and bite, he carefully scooped her off of her skateboard and held her right up to his face.
“Helloooo, Darling! You like to go fast, huh? Go Zoomies? You're such a pretty girl!” He was almost blushing, and for the second time you wondered what clone had spontaneously replaced the man you were dating. Meanwhile, the tortoise was content to extend her neck and brush his nose with her face. Her front legs wiggled as if she was still walking or possibly swimming, and he continued to talk to her.
The longer you sat there, the more you wondered if they could understand each other.
With a sigh, you gave Hermes a kiss on his cheek, told him you were going to look some more, and left to explore the other shelves. (You may or may not have snapped several dozen photos of him cooing at Chelly in the meantime.)
He sat there with the tortoise a full ten minutes; meanwhile you found your own mischievous gift. You had paid quietly and hidden the item at the bottom of your purse, under the ‘valuables’ and wrapped in a brown paper bag. That was for later.
When he finally rejoined you, you playfully bumped him with your elbow as he took some offered hand sanitizer from the counter to clean his hands. He paid for the rest of the items in your basket, once again with real money, and you knew better than to question it at this point. The pair of you rebuttoned your extra layers and prepared to go out into the night.
“So, are you replacing me?” you asked. He smiled, nuzzling your cheek with a little huff.
“Nobody could replace you.” He replied softly, and your face suddenly felt a little warmer. He easily picked you up once more, having put your purchases into his trusty messenger bag, and with little warning he took off.
This time, he did fly a little higher, just so you could see the stars on the way home. The cold wind bit your nose and you would probably have chapped cheeks in the morning, but it was worth it.
He landed easily outside your apartment building, fishing the brown paper bag out of his pack. He would have to be back on Olympus tomorrow morning, and was leaving tonight to have time to leave a trap for Apollo. You barely had a moment before he pulled you into a kiss, then twirling you around and dipping you backwards, throwing off your balance. At least he kept you from falling, even if it was an almost cartoonish dip. He was probably floating to have you so far back.
“So,” he panted lightly, his breath making little bursts of fog in the night air, “did you have fun?” You laughed, patting his shoulders as a request to stand back up. His face was positively glowing as he helped you right yourself.
Yes, he had been floating, damn god powers…
You laughed anyway; “Yes. More fun than I have in a while.” You said, and it was the truth. Hermes' silly side was your favorite thing about him, and you had gotten to see so much of it tonight. His smile was brilliant once more, and under the shadow of his hat you saw his eyes start to glow silvery.
“I love you.” he said, and kissed you again. “I'll be back in two days. I'll pick you up from work.”
“Okay. Don't be too mean to Apollo, okay?” You teased. He rolled his eyes, and began to break away, before you grabbed the strap of his messenger bag and stuffed your own small gift inside, feeling it disappear into the organized clutter of the bottomless bag. He quirked an eyebrow in question.
“Don't open it until you get back to Olympus. Promise?” You asked, and held up your pinky finger.
He snorted. “Sure. Promise.” He linked his pinky with yours, and you shook. Truly a sacred oath. One last stolen kiss, and then he was gone, zipping away into the night sky. You hugged the bag from the store to your chest, and went inside to your (thankfully warm) apartment.
The treats went into the kitchen, to be enjoyed for breakfast tomorrow. You were already scrolling your phone for that lavender shortbread cookie recipe you'd seen a week ago and thinking you would have to go to the store tomorrow after work anyway. The little sheep plushies (you now noticed one was a ram and one was an ewe. Dork.) went onto your shelf of ‘Hermes Trinkets’ for now, though you knew you would probably move them to your bed for cuddling soon. Damn those things were soft. There was also a pair of thick purple socks that you hadn't seen him grab, equally soft, and you already planned to change into them with your pajamas.
Not even an hour later, as you were settling in for bed, you received a text message with a photo attached.
Hermes, his hair wild and hat off, with a gigantic grin on his face. Proudly wearing the crochet headband with a carefully curled pair of stuffed ram horns. Captioned: ‘Better than my laurels.’
You suddenly really hoped he wouldn't wear that to council meetings. You'd created a monster.
The Joe Hills Hermitcraft Coup, as told by the Juppet Themself, summarized by Enkay
Source: Joe's evening Hermitcraft Stream on January 12, 2025. As Joe only archives his reading VODs, the only way to catch moments like this is to tune in!
During early Season 1, GenerikB called the shots on who was added, and to the rest of the Hermits, new people would just pop onto the server with no consultation with the others
There was no structure of organization other than the fact that GB was in charge because it was his server, and everyone was fine with this
Eventually, GB left to focus on Mindcrack, and the server kinda ran on its own for a while, with people doing whatever they wanted on the server and making videos without any larger plans for the future
Eventually, there had been so many updates to Minecraft that some people wanted to start over with a new world with new people, since there had already been some hermits that had gone inactive
It was very difficult for the group to make decisions because there was no final word on any topics, even though there was a general consensus on a seed and potential new people to join.
Enter Joe "Group organizational structures is my passion" Hills
PS: Joe highly recommends this essay on the importance of group organization if you want to do ANY word as a group
THE DAY BEFORE they had agreed to record the first day of the server, they were STILL humming and hawing over the seed and new hermits
so Joe says "howdy y'all, here's what I'm going to do: I'm staging a coup, I'm going to decide that we will go with this seed that people generally agreed with, and we're going to add these two people that people generally agreed with. If ANYONE wants to disagree and do something different, feel free to step up! I will gladly give them the decision making power!"
crickets
Joe says "someone get in contact with Mumbo, I'll take care of Cleo, we get them sorted out, get the seed set up, we're recording tomorrow"
still crickets, but now with nodding
They recorded Season 2 the next day, with two VERY confused and new Hermits named Mumbo and Cleo, who found out potentially earlier that day they were joining the server
Crack AU where Anakin can all of a sudden hear the background music that we all hear. Those pleasant chats with Palpy become a lot more ominous. Though Anakin admits that the fights have become a lot more epic. Thoughts?
Hahahahaha. Love it!
And okay, my first though was “and the galaxy was saved because even Anakin Skywalker would struggle to keep trusting Palpatine with that music playing in the background”
Anakin think he’s gone COMPLETELY insane (maybe he’s finally been electrocuted too many times and its fried his brain). He doesn’t tell anyone though because he can still fight just fine just… everything is a lot more musical. He doesn’t want to be thought crazy and taken off the front lines.
Once he figures out what the various musical cues mean he actually finds them useful in figuring out how dangerous a situation is. Also battles are so much cooler now and boring landscapes are slightly less boring because at least now they have mood music. Yep, he can live with this.
(Although he is always confused why the ominousness that is The Imperial March starts playing at some of his decisions)
Anakin: I’m so worried about something. I should probably keep my feelings to myself and attempt to solve my problems by working with Palpatine. He seems like he has my best interests at heart.
Music: DUN DUN DUN, DUN DA-DUN, DUN DA-DUN!
Anakin: [pauses] [looks around] Uh…OK. I mean, I’ll…go talk to Obi-Wan?
Music: [hopeful woodwind instruments]
Anakin: …and be open and honest about my life and what is bothering me, and try to work out a non-violent resolution to my problems?
#lol#i’m just imagining the force throwing its metaphysical hands in the air like ‘subtlety obviously isn’t working with this one so have a whole#symphony of hints young reckless one’ (via @likealeafonthewind)
I’m crying from laughter, this is beautiful.
Anakin: *fucks up*
The Force: Son, please… Guess I’m gonna enable the hints menu.
Maybe Obi-Wan hears the music, too, and then the day is saved.
Obi-Wan: [walking away] Welp, guess it’s off to kill Grievous I’m sure Anakin will be fi –
Music: [Duel of the Fates]
Obi-Wan: OMG not this shit again [runs back down the hall towards Anakin]
Anakin: [running back towards Obi-Wan] Obi-Wan I just heard that Ominous Music again and also I secretly married Padme and she’s pregnant and I haven’t slept in 6 days and I keep thinking she’s going to die and I AM FREAKING THE FUCK OUT and if you leave I will 100% end up killing everyone and –
Obi-Wan: – oh my God! OK…it’s OK, I heard my own ominous music a second ago when I was getting ready to leave and so I won’t and we’ll fix th –
Anakin: – I heard mine when I thought about maybe talking to the Chancellor instead of y–
Palpatine: [sidling up behind them smugly] Everything all right, gentlemen?
ok hear me out reacting to discord messages with emojis essentially serves the same purpose as aizuchi (interjections that show the listener is paying attention or understands the speaker). if a friend is going on a spiel in discord DMs, reacting with emojis to successive messages can be a more efficient way of showing you're listening without interrupting the flow of messages by responding with "yeah" or "yep."
and then you have custom emojis that vary across servers which allow individual servers to develop their own emoji dialect. joining a new server and looking at its custom emojis scratches my linguist brain because immediately i think about when/where/how said custom emojis are used.
i also think about nitro discord users being able to spread server emoji dialects (but only to a limited extent because regular discord users can't save and use custom emojis outside of their original server). i've now been in a handful of interactions where i've had to ask about the etymology of certain custom emojis and the explanations i've received are always fascinating.
I have been in enough discords/slacks over the last 5-10 years that I'm totally fascinated by this, the variety of uses of the stock emoji (OH THE LANGUAGE OF HEART COLORS) along with the localized languages of custom emoji and how and where those spread from one to another:
I've now seen the use of 🐼 as an expression of sympathy jump from one Slack to another to another (overlapping membership)
I had a coworker at my last job who I originally met on an event's Slack, and the two of us pulled over several "critical" emoji from that Slack. Those spread out among our team, as well as his particular use of 💙 (again, as a sign of sympathy; I think there might be something special about trying to find a particular visual icon for reacting with care/sympathy/empathy: I've also seen 💗, 💜, and 🫂 used that way)
The variety of Elmos on fire (including one discord where the elmo has been replaced by a red furby and another where it's Ed Teach)
Which leads to, of course, the blorbos, as a more particular way of getting something that doesn't quite have a face emoji equivalent?
It's cool stuff and I hope (assume?!) someone is studying it.
I am pleading once again for white liberals to read The New Jim Crow and see how racist policing and law enforcement is 1) bipartisan and 2) the key to how people of color (Black people specifically) are systemically, violently, and purposely kept in check in this country. Begging y'all to see that someone doesn't have to say a slur to be antiblack in the entirety of their belief system, that the status quo you live under is maintained by the suffering (both current and potential) of millions
hey let's start spreading the reminder now that you cannot safely self-manage an abortion with herbal medicine or essential oils. natural abortifacients function by poisoning you; you wait for your body to realize you're dying and reject the pregnancy in order to conserve resources, and hope that happens before the rest of your organs shut down.
i think there will be an upsurge soon of unscrupulous and/or malicious actors preying on desperate pregnant people; do not help them kill people. don't spread recipes for herbal medicines or ingestible essential oil mixtures that purport to cause a pregnancy termination.
Sherlock Holmes modern adaptation but the main characters (Sherlock, Watson, Mrs. Hudson, Irene Adler, and maybe even Lestrade) are all vampires and they’ve just been doing their thing since the time period of the original books
Irene gets to be from New Jersey like she is in canon and she’ll occasionally show up and help Sherlock with a case but they don’t ever date or hook up or anything
the latest one isn’t even a cop she works nights at the 7-11 and Sherlock keeps coming in at 2am to slam two gallons of Monster Energy and ask her what what the fuck an “amogus” is (it’s case related) and tell her how much better she is at lateral thinking than her tragically straightforward ancestor and also is her girlfriend still going to school to be a defense attorney, how’s she handling the workload
1) Irene adopts and yes she is The Cool Grandma for generations of children forevermore
2) Mary is also a vampire, she got turned at the same time as John, she and Sherlock have Wine Wednesdays every third Saturday of the month
3) Mrs. Hudson is immortal but she’s not a vampire and nobody can figure out what her deal is
4) absolutely 100% correct
whenever anybody asks how they got turned the response is something along the lines of “that was like. Over five years ago. How do you expect me to even remember that.” or “idk man I just woke up like this” or “got bitten by a mosquito on a case” and it’s never the same twice
Yes the Sherlock Holmes books exist and whenever they’re brought up Watson gets very upset that this dude stole his writing and considers him his archnemesis despite the fact that Doyle is a totally normal human and dead as hell
imagine Watson’s frothing rage at the Doyle estate insisting Holmes can never be shown having emotions. like he didn’t personally watch Sherlock weep during the moon landing.
Okay, but consider
The Problem (Aka Sherlock Holmes) doesn’t hit ALL The Lestrades, only those that Holmes can rightfully refer to as “Inspector Lestrade”.
Obviously, police inspectors and detectives are affected by The Problem (as family lore refers to Holmes) but, like, subsequent generations have learned how loose the definition is.
Our latest Lestrade, let’s call her Billie, gets called up by her boss one day, and her boss is like “hey, Corporate says somebody at the store needs to know about health regulations and stuff. If you take a couple night classes and get this certification, we’ll give you a bonus on your next paycheck, and one of your jobs will be to sign off that we don’t have mold everywhere”. And Billie is like “Sure, sound good, whatever” and goes to the night classes and takes the test at the end and the tired bureaucrat who runs the course is like “Okay, congratulations, you’re now a Certified Health And Hygiene Inspector (Class D-Small Retail Food Storage and Service)” And Billie just freezes and is like “Ummmm, is it possible to get something different? Maybe I can be a Health and Hygine Expert?
And the bureaucrat is like “No, you passed the test, you’re now a Certified Health and Hygiene Inspector (Class D- Small Retail Food Storage and Service)”
And Billie is just SWEATING as she leaves the building, because she knows about The Problem, but maybe this wouldn’t count? Like, it’s not like she works for the government or anything. It’s just a dumb piece of paper that says she’s allowed to fill out other dumb pieces of paper. That can’t count. It’s not like her JOB changed or anything.
But, as soon as she steps out into the night and makes her way to the Bus stop, a slim figure steps out of the shadows and falls into step next to her.
“Ah, Inspector Lestrade, congratulations on the promotion. I have a few questions for you about-”
And Health And Hygiene Inspector (Class D- Small Retail Food Storage and Service) Billie Lestrade repeats the three words that have become motto and mantra for her family.
“Go Away Holmes”.
Stuff my camp kids did during snack free time today from most to least expected.
1. Eat their snack (the primary thing they are expected to do)
2. Ships and sailors (normal camp game)
3. Big kids sang the National anthem in four part harmony while the little kids buried a tenth grader in leaves and grass. (I put these together because these events clearly were connected but I’m not sure how)
4. Held a “funeral” where the girl was resurrected by everyone singing “Love Story” over her dead body.
5. Turned on “fire ambiance eight hours” on somebody’s phone, buried the phone completely in sticks in the shape of a campfire, and roleplayed as monkeys/cavemen discovering fire for the first time.
😭 I'm so relieved, the predictions were so grim last month when Macron called the election. The left only had 5 days to form an alliance and the far-right was basically celebrating their majority of seats in advance. The left being 1st and the far-right 3rd seemed like the least likely scenario and yet
Thanks for voting everyone—highest turnout since 1981 !
Today I'm going to talk about a form of radical resistance that anyone, no matter their situation, can engage in: cultivating hope.
Are you filled with hopelessness and despair at the state of the world? I have some good news and some bad news.
The bad news is you've fallen for a tool of the status quo. Despair freezes us. It keeps us from imagining and working towards a better world. Despair is easy, because it means we have no reason to take action to make things better. Capitalism? Our oppressors? They want you hopeless for a reason. Because you're easier to control that way.
The good news is! There's a lot of very real reasons for hope. However, hope is something you have to cultivate. It takes work. It is a radical act. It is looking at the status quo and going "actually, no. I refuse."
Maybe you can't risk losing your job to unionize your workplace. Or maybe you're an oppressed minority who can't risk going to protests because our criminal justice system is racist. But cultivating hope in yourself is just as radical an act of resistance as those two things. It is another form of imagining and working towards a better world.
It's not as flashy as starting a union or going to a protest, true. Maybe it feels selfish, like you're only helping yourself. But that's not true. It's a lot harder to help others when you, yourself, are frozen by despair. By working on yourself, you are making it easier for you to help others, in whatever form that takes for you.
For me, since I started my hopepunk practice I have been more able to engage in activism, even if I no longer post about it. Before calls to action froze me. I was so overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of our problems that I was unable to address any of them.
Since I've started cultivating hope in myself, I've unfrozen enough that I was able to choose the causes that matter to me and put my energy there. I engage in more charitable donations and political actions now than I did before. I am happier and also helping others more than I did before.
Cultivating hope in yourself is hard at first. You feel defeated before you even start. But you start putting work in and you find a little hope. And then a little more. And a little more. And then, suddenly. It snowballs and you're doing better than you have in years, and hope comes easier to you now.
If you don't know where to start, go follow @hopepunk-humanity @hope-for-the-planet @afeelgoodblog and @reasonsforhope or follow the hopepunk tag
There's also things like the good news network, who have a daily email they send out with a handful of positive news stories. Some of them I find kinda dumb and shallow like "lost dog returned after 3 years" type stories. But there's also a lot about scientific advancments in green energy, medical care, etc that I find helpful for cultivating hope. Did you know about the CRISPR gene editing tool that's being used to cure incurable illnesses? I didn't! And now I do! afeelgoodblog also runs a substack "best news of last week" newsletter every Monday that I find has stories with more substance, tho it is US focused.
Despair isn't helping anyone, especially not you. Engage in a radical act and start cultivating hope in yourself. You deserve to leave that despair behind, and in the process, you are directly going against the powers that have decided we are easier to control if we are miserable.
