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Cookie Run:Kingdom Official!

ellievsbear

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❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
taylor price
Sade Olutola
cherry valley forever
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
RMH
KIROKAZE
Show & Tell
YOU ARE THE REASON
Game of Thrones Daily

oozey mess
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Product Placement
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titsay
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Jar Jar Binks Fan Club
seen from Japan
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@sanguinepanther
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NO FEAR. The actors who played Long John Silver and Captain Flint in Black Sails FULLY ACKOWLEDGE that the Muppet adaptation was the best
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Okay, so fun thing - our friends taped it from Sky for us when it premiered there way back in the 90s before we had the VHS. I have no idea why, but there was a little 10-15 minute behind the scenes thing (that may or may not be on the DVD. Would need to go hunting) but basically, they were “interviewing the cast”, so Piggy and Kermit and Tim were all there being filmed separately in talking heads sections.
The interviewer raised speculation of an on-set romance between Piggy and Tim Curry. Kermit flailed, Piggy tried to be coy and Tim frigging Curry gave the most wickedly mischievous look straight into the camera and said “Well I do love a bacon roll”
20+ years ago, I saw that and I cackle every time I think of it.
Inktober Oct 5 - Chicken
[“The reason I have begun to shy away from the Divine Feminine and the Sacred Masculine is their unfortunate identification with gender and, more importantly, their overidentification with humans and their myopic classifications generally.
Animacy is plushier. Springier. More mosslike. It seems a soft spot to rest on while I try to understand and explain how very sentient the world is to me these days. I am attracted to the constellations of meaning that sparkle like distant stars inside the word anima: breath, spirit, soul. And animate: to give vigor or life, to ensoul. I enjoy the animal itself, furred, horned, hoofed, clawed, scaled, and indeterminate, that bucks and bays and howls inside the word. I enjoy how philosophers try to clip it grammatically, like a twitchy nerve, and it keeps flinching away. It is a term I think most closely related to the original meaning of the word spell: the performative utterance. To summon magic. To myth. To story. To make happen.
Animacy is the degree to which the referent of a noun is sentient. It is the “soul” that invigorates syntax with something very much beyond language. Ultimately, I am a poet, and my choices often originate from a darker soil than common sense. Animacy, to my poet self, seems the “everything” of my actual lived ecosystem. The bright-blue darning needles weaving through thimbleweed and clover. The vultures wheeling through a hazy sky. The microbes in my gut, keeping me alive and nourished. The mycelium below my feet, holding the soil together.
The opposite of anthropocentrism is not any Divine Gender. The opposite of anthropocentrism is Everything. And what a tender beautiful thing it is to walk outside on a bright spring morning. Swathes of clementine light wash the pollen from the bricks of a nearby building. The robin’s song is like the key turning in a lock. A handful of doves float down from the red-green cloud of a newly foliated maple tree. What a relief to realize that, unlike Adam and Eve, we haven’t been severed from the Garden. The Everything still includes us. The Everything is us, but it needs something in return. It needs us to melt our ideas of sentience as a purely human property. Or as a purely animal property. Or as a purely individual property. Relationships are sentient. Anima is the inhalation, carrying molecules and spores and pheromones into our bodies from the landscape. And then we exhale, sharing cells that have clung to our deepest cells, slept inside the pith of our blood. With every exhalation we decant ourselves back into the world.
How could we be one, or two, or three? We are more gerund than cold, hard noun. More animacy than strictly animal. We ensoul the world and are ensouled in return. Our myths about individuation and linearity no longer hold all the trouble. And all the love. We need to stop sticking out our two hands like it proves everything comes in oppositional dualisms. How many hands does the tree have? The peony? The pileated woodpecker? How many hands is the mycelium using to crochet intimacy from plant to tree to plant through the soil?
Divine Feminine just isn’t big enough for all the relationships holding and constituting me these days. She thins my language into a one-toone relationship. Even if she includes saints and “mother earth” and all women, it’s easy to slip into the language of the singular. One mother. One relationship. One sacred gender expression. One temporality. One thinking animal. One species. I’m not throwing her out, the Divine Feminine. I’m throwing her in. Melting her down. Mixing her into the messier, polytemporal animacy of everything I touch, change, and become.
The animate earth is a verb. An assemblage of verbs. A mycorrhizal system sewing together a whole forest. A shared breath. A midsummer celebration where everyone is invited.”]
Sophie Strand, from The Flowering Wand: Rewilding the Sacred Masculine
Whenever I think about the value of something being done by a person who really understands the job from a lifetime of experience, I think of my first restaurant job. My goal was to work every position, and I started with a year and a half in the dish pit at 16yo.
When i started as a dishwasher, i was trained by an old career dish pit man named Claudio. He'd spent his whole life washing dishes. It allowed him to move to just about any city in the world that he wanted to and get a job without having to deal with complex hiring processes or strict resumé requirements. Which was the main thing he wanted out of a career. I still think about him.
He'd seen a lot of people come through that station who either didn't consider it a real job or thought it was beneath them, on their way to "better" or "more important" things. And, in retrospect, those first two days he was sort of doing the minimum with me that he could do and still respect himself when he told the manager he'd trained me.
But, maybe it was because i was really interested in learning all the positions there were in a restaurant because i knew they were ALL important, or because i was a hard worker, or maybe it was because i tried to have real conversations with him in my broken spanish and did my best to not make him speak any english unless he wanted to, but after a couple days there was a big shift in the way he and i worked together, and he started to really teach me.
That place ran the dish pit with one dishwasher, so when he was done training me I was going to be doing the job on my own.
The thing that stuck with me the most, for the rest of my restaurant career, was this... and it wasn't just the actual things he was saying, but a completely new way of looking at what i was doing within the context of how the restaurant ran. I came in for my 3rd day and he said
"When you work alone, you want to go home by midnight?"
we clocked on at 3:30 and took a half hour lunch break and usually skipped our tens, so, yeah i absolutely did want to get off work by midnight
Then, even tho i already knew where most of everything was by that time, he took me around and showed me all the dishes, cups, pots and pans, spatulas, silverware, had me look at all of it. Then he told me to remember that almost every one of the dishes I was looking at would be used more than once by the end of our shift- we were clocking on to wash the entire building full of dishes multiple times.
Then he led me back over to the industrial dishwasher most restaurants have, which looks like this:
and then this 60 year old career dishwasher from Mexico City said the thing that changed how I looked at restaurant jobs forever
"This machine takes two full minutes to run a cycle. We are on the clock for 8 hours. That means we have a maximum of 240 times we can run this machine. If you want to wash all those dishes, clean your station, mop, and clock off by midnight? This machine has to be on and running every second of the shift.
If you don't have a full load of dishes collected, scraped, rinsed, stacked, and ready to go into the dishwasher the second it's done every single time? You can't do it. If, over the course of 8 hours, you let this machine lay idle for just one minute in between finishing each load and being turned on again? Instead of 240 loads, you'll do 160 loads.
[like, literally, he had done this math, he had these exact figures]
160 loads instead of 240 loads means you are doing 20 loads in an hour instead of 30 loads. That means the dishes are going to pile up. The cooks will run out of pots and pans and will have to stop and wait for you, the servers will run out of plates and cups and have to stop and wait for you, and your night is going to SUCK. Every part of how this restaurant works can grind to a halt because of that idle minute between dish loads, and if it does you'll have an entire building of people in a hurry and all waiting on you.
And it means you're going to be here until 2 am doing the 200+ loads of dishes this restaurant goes through every night.
For this to work, you MUST have this dishwasher on and running every minute of the shift. As soon as you turn it on you have two minutes to have the next load ready. See these large items i put to the side down here? One or two of them takes up all the space in the machine. I keep them here so that if the machine finishes and shuts off before i'm ready for it i can stick one of these in there and turn it on again immediately. You have to think like that to do this job without stress."
The way he was looking at how the whole restaurant ran, the way he was looking at how he'd spend each minute of the entire shift, the way he broke down what the physical limits were and how to max them out so he could do his job and go home on time without stressing out... The way this 60 year old guy, who had never had professional ambitions beyond being a dishwasher, was still such a competent and brilliant expert in his field.
It was all such an important lesson, and one that stayed with me through every position i went on to work in restaurants, dish pit, busser, server, cook, all the way up through manager before I finally got out of my restaurant career
Claudio never wanted to be anything but a dishwasher who didn't stay any later than he had to.
But he knew how that restaurant ran better than most of the other people in it. I never had a chance to truly thank him for the specific lesson he taught me, because while it had an immediate impact, I didn't really understand how valuable a lesson it was until much later.
But I've thought about Claudio and what i learned from him many MANY times in my life.
I worked in the dish rooms of the dining halls where I went to college. Not my first job, but my first job that wasn't just a summer gig. Because of being an art student, I usually came into the middle of a breakfast or lunch shift and had to float around, filling in, picking up the slack wherever it was. Because of that, I learned the dish room top to bottom. I would notice something was off at the clean end and dive in to clear trays or load the machine and vice versa.
I was fast, efficient, and competent. I caught when peanut butter was left on flatware in the third wash instead of going back through. I races the running conveyor that was the large dish machine that served over 600 people per meal.
The only thing that kept me from going back there after I graduated, after teaching didn't work the way I thought, was because I was able to find other work that used my degree in some way.
if that hadn't happened, I'd be back in that dish room.
at the end of my last shift, my managers told me good luck with teaching, and that I'd always have a job if I wanted back. It's still one of my favorite jobs, and still set a very high bar for employers because they saw when people came through and understood the systems, and they appreciated people like me.
WHEAT Thomas Hart Benton C. 1967 oil on wood
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I was today years old when I learnt about what those symbols in Aboriginal art represented I honestly can't believe we never got taught that, even when I was studying art. I always assumed they had meaning but no one [no white person] had ever bothered to mention it. I'm glad I learnt something new today.
Yeah, I think a lot of people tend to look down on Aboriginal art because they think it's a form of abstract art that is just lines and shapes but almost all of them tell a story. Sometimes it's a very obvious story, such as the emu dreaming where the waterhole flooded, and sometimes it's more symbolic.
the circle in the middle is a waterhole/dam or billabong. The squiggly lines coming out of it are small rivers. the dots represent the earth but because they are in neat lines, it almost feels as if they have been flattened by the flooded water, especially as the vector lines draw out from the waterhole in the middle. the emu tracks are heading toward the waterhole, and the three lines in the middle are marks left by their tail, implying that they are wading through the mud to get there.
It's a birdseye view of a moment just after the waterhole floods and afterwards the emus go looking for food.
It's Interesting, because the original artist D. J. Ross was from Yuendumu which is in central australia, so this would have been a rare time that there was enough rain to flood the waterhole.
Dreaming stories, kinship links, sacred rites, keeping track of biodiversity and songlines are some other topics covered by Aboriginal art.
In the same way monet painted the middle class and the local landscape in the late 1800's/early 1900's Aboriginal people also paint the average lifestyle of our people. It just looks different.
For example, this picture shows a LOT of activity. The men at the top left of the picture are doing a cultural burn near and around a sacred site, the women at the bottom left are digging for food. across the river, on the right the people are preparing food and in the center, two people (presumably elders) are preparing for a ceremony.
I wouldn't say these all happened at the same time, more that this was a common undertaking over a set of time.
it takes time to understand and not all symbols are the same in all areas, but once you do understand them it becomes easier to see the story being told.
So yeah, I hope this gives you the chance to look at Aboriginal art with new eyes
We live in a disgusting reality where the people expected to care for those at highest risk and morbidity don't do everything they can to keep them safe. The person making these tags deserves three thousand promotions. This was a big issue before the pandemic too, covid just made the cracks in the system bigger and more obvious.
My grandmother legitimately just died this month after catching covid because her facility gave zero shits about it.
Supposedly a staff member came to work sick. I can't even imagine how many other people in that facility got sick or died because of this.
And the facility straight up does not care.
Airborne transmission is one of the main routes of SARS-CoV-2 spread. It is important to determine the circumstances under which the risk of
my house is getting a dog named theo this week and i assume that just means god but maybe you can find out something interesting about it?
Oh boy, can I!
Theo is short for Theodore, from the Greek Theodoros, which means "god's gift" from the roots theos+doron. But one of my favorite things about this name is that it has a secret feminine version that many people don't know about: Dorothy. Dorothy is constructed from the same Greek roots in the opposite order, doron+theos = "gift of god." I have yet to stumble upon another name pair with that same relationship in a Western language (not uncommon in Chinese and Japanese, I believe), so that's pretty cool!
Theodore has been wildly popular since Ancient Greece, the name of ancient generals, multiple saints, two popes, lots of political leaders - you name it! Because the earliest saint to bear the name was Greek, Theodore stayed most popular in Eastern Europe. It had a sudden explosion of popularity in Britain and the US around the 1830s, but in trying to find a notable person to attribute the jump to, there were no obvious characters... except maybe Theodore Forbes Leith, a Scottish physician who taught Benjamin Franklin how to make Parmesan cheese. He's probably an unspoken national hero, tbh.
Anyway, Theodore had a bit of a dip in the US but is on a serious upswing now, breaking its previous US rankings and currently sitting pretty at #4, so your roommates are very on-trend. Theo as a given name is lagging behind a bit as a legal name (as is typical) but is currently the more popular nickname of Theodore compared to Ted or Teddy. (Though Teddy had a huge spike in the early 1900s due to Theodore Roosevelt and the Teddy bear.)
Since your dog will just be "Theo," if you wanted to play hipster and keep from seeming too in the trend, you could always claim that it's ackshully short for the similar but unrelated Germanic name Theodoric, meaning "ruler of the people." In that name, Theo on its own would simply mean "people," so you really gotta decide if you want a dog that thinks it's god or a dog that thinks it's people. Tough choice. Good luck.
@sanguinepanther god or people, what do you think?
eeeeee......
definitely people. Seems too cognizant of the needs of humans to be a god.
Her name was Judy-Lynn del Rey. And she became the most powerful editor in science fiction history.
Born in 1943 with achondroplastic dwarfism, Judy-Lynn grew up devouring science fiction in New York City's public libraries. At a time when the genre was dismissed as pulp fiction for teenage boys, she saw something else entirely: the future of storytelling.
She started at the bottom—an office assistant at Galaxy, the most prestigious science fiction magazine of the 1960s. Within four years, she was managing editor.
Then Ballantine Books came calling.
When she arrived at Ballantine in 1973, science fiction and fantasy were afterthoughts in publishing. Fantasy in particular was considered unsellable—unless you were Tolkien. Judy-Lynn thought that was nonsense.
Her first major move was audacious: she cut ties with one of Ballantine's bestselling authors, John Norman, whose "Gor" novels were popular but notoriously misogynistic. It was a risk. She didn't care.
Then came the gamble that changed everything.
In 1976, someone brought her an opportunity: the novelization rights to an upcoming space movie by a young director named George Lucas. Hollywood thought the film would bomb. Studio executives were skeptical. Most publishers passed.
Judy-Lynn said yes.
The Star Wars novelization sold 4.5 million copies before the movie even premiered.
She would later call herself the "Mama of Star Wars."
In 1977, she launched Del Rey Books—her own imprint, with her husband Lester editing fantasy while she oversaw everything else. Their first original novel was Terry Brooks's The Sword of Shannara. It became a phenomenon.
She didn't stop there.
Remember The Princess Bride? The original 1973 novel had flopped. It was headed for obscurity. Judy-Lynn rescued it, reissuing it in 1977 with a striking gate-fold cover and an aggressive marketing campaign. Without her intervention, there might never have been a movie.
She published the Star Trek Log series. She championed Stephen R. Donaldson's Thomas Covenant trilogy—convincing Ballantine to release all three books on the same day from a completely unknown author. Unprecedented.
She published Anne McCaffrey's The White Dragon—the first science fiction novel ever to hit #1 on the New York Times bestseller list.
And she did all of this while competitors called her imprint "Death-Rey Books"—because she was utterly dominant.
Between 1977 and 1990, Del Rey Books had 65 titles reach bestseller lists. That was more than every other science fiction and fantasy publisher combined.
Arthur C. Clarke called her "the most brilliant editor I ever encountered."
Philip K. Dick went further: "The greatest editor since Maxwell Perkins"—the legendary editor of Hemingway and Fitzgerald.
But here's what burns: the science fiction community never nominated her for a Hugo Award while she was alive. Not once. The men who ran the industry praised her in private and overlooked her in public.
In October 1985, Judy-Lynn suffered a brain hemorrhage. She died four months later, at 42.
Only then did the Hugo committee vote to give her the Best Professional Editor award.
Her husband Lester refused to accept it.
He said Judy-Lynn would have objected—that it was given only because she had just died. That it came too late.
He was right.
Judy-Lynn del Rey transformed science fiction from a niche hobby into a cultural force. She made fantasy into a mainstream publishing category. She bet on Star Wars when no one else would. She saved The Princess Bride from oblivion. She published the first #1 New York Times science fiction bestseller.
She did all of this standing 4'1" tall in an industry run by men who underestimated her at every turn.
The next time you pick up a fantasy novel, or watch a Star Wars movie, or quote The Princess Bride—
Now you know who made it possible.
I didn't get to see movies often. That book was my intro to Star Wars.
Sorry for posting tiktoks on main but this was articulated so well it made me get up and pace
depressed steampunk guy: like nothing makes me happy anymore i feel like my fantastical flying contraption just ran out of coal
do you think steam just magically comes out of nowhere im so sick of these people who dont understand steampunk it makes me want to get into my submersible bathysphere and never reemerge
Steam. Is. Water. Coal. Makes. Smoke.
what is the coal doing to the water
Makes sense to me
I had a classmate in college, in a digital illustration class, who had this solar steam punk world, drew pictures of people making steam illegally, with machines that made black smoke, said some bs about typing into the solar steam system illegally..... ..
what?
..
You mean they didn't just *BURN SHIT* to make the steam instead of paying the central power authority?
there's an antique steam tractor event each summer I used to go to. I told this student to study how steam engines work before talking about their steam punk art. The art *made sense* the description was illogical.
I want to take all them back to engineering school from c. 1920
I’ve been thinking a bit about Harry Potter again and specifically why it feels so different to me from other bad things I’ve enjoyed.
I’m trained in literary criticism, I personally study a lot of stuff from people with stupid opinions in my freetime, including opinions about people like me, I enjoy reading in general. What is it about Harry Potter that makes me just not want to come back to it?
I think it’s kind of how it became a part of culture for a while. And at the time it wasn’t criticized as heavily as other things I witnessed, at least from my child’s perspective. Poking holes in media has been a favorite pastime of mine for long time, including with Harry Potter, but the fundamental emotional core of the thing never quite felt flawed.
Yes Rowling put some stupid things in there but that’s to be expected from a white woman in Britain who has had most of her life being taken care of for her. At the end of the day, the intentions always felt solid even if the execution was less than perfect.
Then came the slow eroding of her reputation. I picked up on it before most people did. The moment she went “mask off” in 2020 I and many others were surprised that people saw it that way. She’d been consorting with transphobes for years at that point. In online trans spaces she’d been a known radfem apologist for a long time.
But then she got worse. Like she started materially hurting people with her money. And that’s about when to me I really started to get sick when thinking about Harry Potter.
It’s like. She’s not just a privately bigoted person who accidentally made a story about misfits finding a place that they belonged. She’s taking the power that the marketing machine behind that series granted her to cause active harm right now.
It’s at about that point I no longer found myself with the ability to turn on my critical brain trained in the ways of lit analysis or my casual consumer brain just liking fun things even if they’re bad. I just felt a pit in my stomach. I moved the family copies of the Harry Potter books from my room into the communal family bookshelf and then into my dad’s room because I couldn’t stand looking at them anymore.
It’s not just that Rowling is an author with bad opinions. I’ve read plenty of those. It’s not just that the series isn’t what I thought it was. That’s par for the course of most things you read as a child and revisit as an adult. It’s the combined power of her and her brand being everywhere and inescapable and her currently using the power that gives her for evil. Not only was the core of the series disingenuous but the series itself is currently actively causing people harm and normies just casually walk by it at Barnes and noble vaguely wondering if they should buy a mug for their cousin not knowing or not caring what that actually represents.
I can read dumb shit. I can handle my beloved childhood media being worse than I remember it. I can even handle my favorite authors turning out to be absolute garbage but the level of how all this happened with Harry Potter almost has no equivalent that I can think of because it is so big and so destructive and so intertwined with its author in the way that very few other things are.
The author cannot be dead with Harry Potter because she keeps coming back in to twist the knife. She has implanted herself into the series itself so firmly that trying to remove her from it make the entire thing implode on itself into something else entirely. And she uses that firm rooting that she’s established to materially harm people. People like me just one continent over. I’m sure she’d also interfere in other countries politics if she legally could.
It’s like. You can’t think critically through the full scope and ramifications of something when she hasn’t even stopped twisting that knife of hers. I can playfully stick my tongue out at shakespeares bad opinions because he isn’t alive right now spending his money on bad things. And even most authors alive now don’t have financial knives big enough to make much of a difference.
Rowling though? She can just throw a million dollars at something. It’s no wonder I can’t look at those books. My siblings are being threatened with them. It’s a lot easier to study a knife in a museum than one that’s currently being held to someone’s throat.
I don’t think I can be trusted to ever study this particular knife objectively ever again. Because I’ve seen what it can do. I’ve seen where it’s pointed. I can’t really have rational academic thoughts while I’m watching that.
Thank you. This phrased it better than I’ve been able to
That's exactly what it feels like seeing new HP editions in the window of a bookshop. It's the reason my HP books (recently along with the Neil Gaimann books) live in the part of my bookshelf that has doors, because I can't look at them without feeling devastated. It's honestly surreal how all of that has happened and is still actively happening and the general public just... doesn't know or care.
“It’s a lot easier to study a knife in a museum than one that’s currently being held to someone’s throat.”
these books have joined the camping supplies as tinder for firestarting.
I can only stand to see that artwork, those fonts, that typeset if I will be ripping the pages from the spine and quickly putting match to paper