"Grace Ryland is Rocky's dog" is such a funny fucking dynamic when you think about it
Eridians are further behind than humans technologically right? They dont have computers, relativity, quantum mechanics, etc. In fact, Eridians probably dont even know about the Big Bang because their atmosphere would filter out most of the cosmic microwave background radiation we use to detect it. On a human timeline, theyre anywhere between like early-mid 20th century. Rocky's basically a cosmonaut.
So the human civilization is pretty advanced from Rocky's perspective. Rationally he understands this. On a conceptual level he knows this to be true.
But at the same time... imagine youre one of the first ever cosmonauts to make it into space. Then you meet a 10 year old alien dog who cant do 2+2 without pulling out its calculator. It forgets everything constantly and has to keep notes everywhere, like it basically lives in Memento (2000). Also if it doesnt nap constantly it gets even stupider. And you somehow has to reconcile this with the fact that this dog has a better understanding of physics than your entire civilization does. Like the dog knows how the universe started.
This isnt better from Grace's perspective btw. Eridians never developed computers, so all their ship systems are steered using basically the manual labor of 24 Eridians. Also theres no radiation shielding on their ship. Actually im pretty sure half the reason why Rocky is always busy fixing shit is because the radiation keeps frying all the onboard electronics, so hes always building and fixing and replacing components
Like imagine being a modern day sailor navigating the Pacific with GPS and strong hulls to protect against the raging ocean. And from portside you see like an honest to god viking ship. Except its made of some high tech carbon fiber material. But like, its still very definitely a viking ship. You can clearly see there's 24 oars along the hull where sailors are supposed to use to manually row their ship. Also the ship is leaking and theres like one little dude on board whos skittering around patching the holes constantly. Also this little dude is blind and doesnt know about water. Thats how insane Eridians look being an interstellar species without computers or radiation shielding.
Both of them thinks the other one is the completely ridiculous and absurd one and theyre both totally amazed at how far the other has come in spite of it
There really really ought to be a book about how the staple crops of different civilizations shape and influence those civilizations, and I really want to read it.
Salt: A World History by Mark Kurlansky and A History of the World in 6 Glasses by Tom Standage (three are alcohol, three have caffeine) are not quite that, but may still be of interest?
I read Salt back in the day and it's so so good, second the rec. I have heard of 6 Glasses and not read it but I am sure I would probably love it. Gotta see if the library has it. Thank you!
A Short History Of The World According To Sheep by Sally Coulthard blew my mind. So many things are tied to wool and sheep and weaving and so many words and phrases are tied to wool, people have no idea.
Example words which come from textiles/weaving, if not specifically wool (go look them up!): subtle, shoddy, tabby, Brazil, rocket, twit, warped, going batty, on tenterhooks, text...
I'll throw in a rec for Pickled, Potted, and Canned by Sue Shephard - a very interesting look at food preservation and how the availability of different types of food preservation shaped cultures and cuisines.
The Lost Supper: Searching for the Future of Food in the Flavors of the Past might also be up your alley. It's about "forgotten" foods and staples. They talk about different types of wheat, sauces, veggies, etc and a little about the cultures from whence they come
DO I HAVE A SERIES FOR YOU. University of California Press has a gift for you and it is a 80+ book series on food studies. There are even some that are open access (legally free), but the rest are in libraries.
I also highly recommend Frostbite by Nicola Twilley. Itâs about the impact refrigeration has had/is having on food preservation and culture, globally. It was one of my favorite books of this last year.
the fact that we only have âherculean taskâ and âsisyphean taskâ feels so limiting. so hereâs a few more tasks for your repertoire
icarian task: when you have a task you know youâre going to fail at anyways, so why not have some fun with it before it all comes crashing down
cassandrean task: when you have to deal with people you KNOW wonât listen to you, despite having accurate information, and having to watch them fumble about when you told them the solution from the start (most often witnessed in customer service)
feel free to chime in i ran out of ideas much faster than i anticipated
Promethean task: opposite of a Cassandraean task. You have the right information, and SOMEONE has to share it. But it's all in the delivery and if you're the person to identify the problem you WILL be hated forever.
Oedipal Task: (1) Attempting to avoid an unspeakably awful outcome and in doing so creating the circumstances that will bring it about.
(2) Trying to solve an problem and discovering that you are in fact the problem you are trying to solve.
Medean Task: Doing this is going to destroy you and what you love just as much as the person you're trying to destroy. Everyone is telling you this, and you already know this. But your "fuck that guy and what he thinks he can do to me" instinct is just that strong. Also admittedly you get an extremely badass exit when all's said and done.
Okay, so. First thing we need to address about Sumeru is Hoyoâs colorism. Most Sumeru characters should be brown, and itâs an undeniable, racist travesty that they arenât. Keep that in mind when I say that some of the anti-racist story beats are actually well-done and subversiveâbecause, honestly, they should have been even better. But no media is perfect, and we have to evaluate the narrative on its own terms while acknowledging its flaws.
Second thing you should understand about Sumeru? Itâs cyberpunk. The moment you arrive, you get Google Glasses⢠(the Akasha). These glasses let you search everything on the internet⌠except not really! Thereâs censorshipâyouâre not authorized to look up info about the Dendro Archon. Thatâs why the Traveler starts seeking alternative sources of information, just like in any good cyberpunk story.
And, like in any good cyberpunk, corporations control the government. The Akademiya is heavily corporation-coded. Theyâve usurped the legitimate government (Nahida), they control Google (and its censorship), and most importantly, they decide where research funding goes. A huge theme in Sumeru is scientists being forced to abandon their passions and take on military projects just to secure Akademiya fundingâexactly like the real world.
So, the Akademiya are the undeniable villains of Sumeru, established in Act 1, and we should view the entire narrative through that lens.
When we see the Akademiya persecute religious minorities, artists, and desert people, weâre meant to see it as straightforwardly bad. Especially because we meet and befriend members of all these groupsâDunyarzad, Nilou, Dehyaâwhile from the Akademiya, we only get Alhaitham, whoâs sus as hell and standoffish (and later defects from the Akademiya). Iâm specifying this because Iâve seen some frankly insane sinophobic takes claiming that Hoyo showing this persecution means they approve of itâbecause theyâre Chinese, so they must be pro-religious persecution (??). Never mind that all the persecuted groups win in the end.
The point is, the corpo-Akademiya is trying to enforce homogenous obedience on its citizens, and as players, weâre set up to sympathize with everyone fighting against that.
The Samsara dream time loopâwhere the Traveler and the people of Sumeru get trappedâis LITERALLY corporations exploiting the dreams of common people to extract resources from them. Itâs an incredibly on-the-nose metaphor. The same day repeating over and over? Thatâs capitalism trapping us in the hopeless, monotonous loop of routine, grinding us down with no promise of change. And just like in real life, the most vulnerableâpeople like Dunyarzad, whoâs disabled and chronically illâare the first to pay the price, because they donât have the physical stamina to survive the systemâs brutality.
And what breaks this corrupt, soul-crushing cycle? An artist.
Nilou, a dancerâsomeone whose entire existence is dismissed by the Akademiya as "frivolous" at the same time as they try to use her as foundation of their propaganda loop âis the one who shatters the illusion. Because art does that. It exposes truths that rigid systems try to bury. The Akademiya, with all its cold logic and "progress," canât comprehend something as intangible as creativity, so they never see it coming. But when Nilou performs, she disrupts the Samsara, proving that the human spirit expressed through art canât be fully controlled, even by the most oppressive structures.
Itâs chefâs kiss storytelling. The Akademiya thinks theyâve perfected their dystopia, where everyone is a docile, productive cog in their machine. But they forget that people dream. And dreamsâreal ones, the messy, emotional, human kindâcanât be commodified forever.
But then it only gets better. Because breaking the Samsara loop isnât enough to bring down the whole system. That would be too easy, too cheap. What Nilouâs rebellion does is ignite a sparkâsomething that shakes people awake, makes them question, but doesnât magically dismantle centuries of oppression overnight. Real change takes more than one defiant dance.
Now, letâs talk about the desert people in Sumeru.
The Akademiya built a literal fucking trump wall to keep them out. They oppress them, demonize them, and treat them like second-class citizens. And the first time we see desert people in the story, aside from Dehya? Theyâre religious fanatics confronting Alhaithamâwhich, at a glance, plays right into the most tired Western stereotype: Middle Eastern terrorists. But letâs put a pin in that.
Because then we meet Setaria, a desert woman who had to abandon her religion and heritage just to fit in. This is the Akademiyaâs imperialist assimilation in actionâdesert people are forced to conform, no matter how brilliant they are. And Setaria is brilliant. Sheâs a genius, and thatâs the only reason she got as far as she did in the Akademiya. But even then, she had to erase herself to survive.
Then comes the entire quest about reminding her of her roots, urging her to embrace her people again, and, most importantly, using her privilege to help them. And hereâs the kicker: itâs Nahidaâthe Dendro Archon, a god the desert people actively opposeâwho pushes Setaria to reclaim her heritage. Not out of some patronizing "enlightened savior" nonsense, but because Nahida, despite being the figurehead of the very religion that marginalizes them, values truth above dogma. Because desert ppl don't know Akademiya traps and supresses Nahida herself!
Nahida doesnât demand Setaria convert or assimilate further; she tells her to remember who she is. Because liberation isnât just about tearing down wallsâitâs about refusing to let your identity be dictated by the people who built them.
The game doesnât just show the oppressionâit shows the way out: reclaiming your history, refusing to be pitted against your own, and leveraging your position to lift others up. And the fact that itâs Nahida of all people who facilitates this? Thatâs the narrative acknowledging that justice isnât about which god you worshipâitâs about whose humanity youâre willing to recognize. So accusations of Sumeru narrative somehow being pro-oppression of opposing religions is not only sinophobic, but missing the entire, very obvios point.
And thenâjust when you think the Akademiya couldnât get more villain-codedâwe learn their endgame: Theyâve been using the energy drained from the Samsara dream cycle to build an artificial god. A corporate-made deity, designed to replace Nahida entirely. And whoâs helping them? Dottore, a foreign warmonger exploiting Sumeruâs resources for his own ends.
I mean, come on. If you wanted a more blatant anti-imperialist, anti-corporate metaphor, youâd have to start handing out pamphlets in the streets. The Akademiya isnât just content with controlling knowledgeâthey want to manufacture divinity itself, outsourcing the labor to a foreign power that couldnât care less about Sumeruâs people.
And thenâNahida sacrifices herself.
After everything, after being imprisoned, erased, and treated as a figurehead, she still chooses to give up her freedom to stop Dottore from harming her people. Not because sheâs a martyr, not because sheâs blindly selflessâbut because she understands power. She knows the Akademiyaâs artificial god wonât save Sumeru; itâll just put a new face on the same exploitation. So she takes the hit. Voluntarily.
This is where the narrative really sticks the landing. Because Nahidaâs sacrifice isnât framed as some tragic inevitabilityâitâs a strategic move. Sheâs playing the long game, proving that real leadership isnât about control, but about knowing when to step back so others can step up. And in doing so, she forces Sumeru to confront its own complicity. The Akademiyaâs downfall doesnât come from some outside forceâit comes from the people they oppressed finally rising, because she gave them the space to do it.
And so, of course, in the next act, we move to the desertâwhere the narrative flips the script entirely.
We meet Alhaitham, whoâs already defected from the Akademiya. Then we confront Cynoâand this is critical: people misread him as a "cop," but heâs not. The actual cops of Sumeru are the Corps of Thirty; the Mahamatra (Cynoâs former role) are the corporate enforcers, the Akademiyaâs private security. And hereâs the thing: Cyno was *promised* justice, but when he tried to audit the Akademiyaâs artificial god project, they shut him down.
And what did he do? He didnât comply. He defected.
This isnât just a character beatâitâs a thematic one. Cynoâs entire arc is about choosing justice over institutional loyalty, even when the institution claims to serve justice. The game wants you to question who the "law" really works for.
Then we arrive at Aaru Village, where we meet Candace and the other desert peopleâall portrayed as good, kind, and suffering under Akademiya oppression. And in a lesser story, this would be the endpoint: "See? Not all brown people are evil terrorists! Some are noble victims!" (Which, admittedly, is still more nuance than most Western media manages.)
But Sumeruâs narrative isnât satisfied with that. It doesnât just want to humanize the desert peopleâit wants to contextualize their resistance. Because the next step isnât just proving theyâre "good." Itâs asking: What made the Eremites into âfanaticsâ in the first place?
And thatâs where the story gets really bold.
t doesnât just tell you the desert people are oppressedâit forces you to confront their reality. They have no chances. No fair trial, no voice, no future under Akademiya rule. And when Dehyaâa desert-born warrior whoâs spent her life caught between worlds - risks everything to broker peace, the game doesnât give you a choice. You have to negotiate with them. No "both sides" compromise, no patronizing "maybe if they just assimilated harder." The narrative makes you stand with them.
And thenâthe revelation.
Deshret, the god of the desert people, was never Rukkhadevataâs enemy. They were friends. Allies. And when disaster struck, Rukkhadevataâthe very goddess the Akademiya claims as their own sacrificed herself to save the desert people from extinction. The history the Akademiya taught was a lie.
And the narrative never walks this back. Later world quests double down: Deshret wasnât some mad tyrant. He was a beloved, fair ruler. His peopleâs faith isnât some backwards fanaticismâitâs legitimate, as sacred as Nahidaâs. The game refuses to frame desert culture as something that needs to be "fixed" or abandoned.
This isnât just subversionâitâs narrative justice.
And the entire Sumeru finale is about exactly that.
Itâs not a lone heroâs journey. Itâs not a divine miracle. Itâs every marginalized groupâartists, desert people, religious minorities, Akademiya defectorsâcoming together to overthrow their oppressors. The narrative makes this collective struggle the centerpiece. Azar, the Grand Sage, is a deliberately bland villain because he doesnât matter. Heâs not some complex tyrantâheâs just another greedy man at the top of a corrupt system. The real story isnât about him. Itâs about who rises against him.
And at the heart of it all is Nahidaânot as a traditional archon dispensing wisdom from on high, but as a child god who connects people. Her power isnât in domination; itâs in unity. She doesnât command an armyâshe links minds, letting Sumeruâs people see each otherâs struggles, dreams, and defiance.
This is the ultimate rebuttal to the Akademiyaâs ideology. They believed in hierarchy, in control, in a world where only the "worthy" (read: those they approved of) had a voice. But Nahida proves true wisdom isnât hoardedâitâs shared. And when she breaks free, she doesnât just liberate herself, she gives Sumeru back to its people.
And crucially? They couldnât have won without the desert.
The desert people werenât just "allowed" to helpâthey were essential. Their knowledge, their strength, their history became part of the resistance. The narrative doesnât frame them as "redeemed outsiders" joining the "real" fightâit says their fight was always legitimate, and Sumeruâs freedom depended on them.
The finale of Sumeruâs arc isnât just a victoryâitâs a reckoning.
The wall dividing the desert and the rainforest crumbles. The Akashaâthe internet turned tool of controlâshuts down forever. The narrative makes it clear: technology should connect and empower people, but when itâs weaponized against them, it deserves to die. And Sumeru doesnât mourn its loss, because freedom is worth more than convenience.
But the real triumph isnât in whatâs destroyed, itâs in whatâs rebuilt. Desert people are welcomed, not as tolerated outsiders, but as equals. The Akademiyaâs chokehold on knowledge is broken. Artists, scholars, outcasts, and visionariesâall of themâhave a voice now.
This is the core message: No one fights alone. Corpo tyranny falls when the oppressed stop competing for scraps and stand together. Not out of charity, not out of pity, but because liberation is collective or itâs nothing.
This is why Sumeru storyline rings true.
Yes, itâs simplified. Itâs a fantasy, not a political manifesto. But the core idea is real, and thatâs what matters.
Sumeruâs revolution works because it understands something fundamental: Oppression isnât defeated by lone heroes or divine intervention. Itâs defeated when the people no longer accept their own erasure. When artists, outcasts, racial minorities, and even disillusioned enforcers realize theyâre stronger together than they ever were apart.
The Akademiya thought they could control truth by rewriting history. They thought they could commodify dreams, exploit faith, and wall off the "undesirables." But in the end? They underestimated the one thing they couldnât algorithmize: solidarity.
Is it idealistic? Sure. But the best stories often are. Because they remind us that the fight isnât hopelessâjust unfinished.
i get a tablet and the first thing i do is draw cyno instead of setting a password.
for first time digital art tho, im p happy with it. like wowo!! the drawing is not smudged!! clean!! smooth!! and bro, i finished the drawing and asked "how the fuck do i colour." i'm so used to just adding pressure to a pencil, it's all i've ever known đ i found the bucket though so it's okay.
edit: few seconds in and i spot two mistakes, this feeling is media universal bro pls... đĽš
