Happy Winter Solstice!
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Happy Winter Solstice!
Winter Solstice has begun!
This photo by English Heritage captures tonight’s sunset. Clouds interfere a bit but the alignment is clear. This is the end of the shortest day of the year. Tonight the track of the sun stops moving southwards across the line of the stones and starts its return journey. Tomorrow’s sunrise marks the start of the new solar year when every day is just that little bit longer.
The live stream of sunrise is tomorrow with dawn predicted to be at 08:09 Greenwich Mean Time.
21-22.12.2022
Happy Solstice! Watch it live here!
Both the sunset on Wednesday the 21st and the sunrise on Thursday the 22nd are part of the “winter solstice”. The shortest day and the longest night are the period of the solstice, between sunset and sunrise, when the earth is reborn.
Stonehenge was built between 3000 and 2000 BC, and it is aligned to capture the setting sun on the winter solstice, more precisely than the dawn the following morning- which is why the photo above has the sun rising just marginally to the right of centre- where it set the night before. Archaeologists think that the sunset of winter solstice was more important to the people who built it than the dawn.
It is more common these days to think of the summer solstice as THE Stonehenge event, but that is wrong. Both the sunset and sunrise at the winter solstice were more important to the builders than the summer solstice.
Proof of that can be found in the other monuments that are in the same area as Stonehenge. Built a full 500 years before any of the standing stones of Stonehenge, the Cursus was built by neolithic people as a bank and ditch earthwork just 800 metres north of Stonehenge. The Cursus measures three kilometres long, enclosing an area that it about 100 meters wide.
The cursus has a mound and the remnants of a pit for a large standing stone at either end, which were designed to trace the path of the summer solstice, tracking the sun from dawn until it set - on the longest day of the year. The best viewpoint on the plain to see this effect is indicated below at the bottom of the triangle. What is interesting is that exact spot is where you will find today the Heel Stone.
Are we surprised that this is EXACTLY in line where the stones of Stonehenge were put in place 500 years later? It’s purpose, however was to look in the opposite direction, to see the point where the sun set at the winter solstice.
If Much Ado About Nothing premiered today and had a thriving tumblr fandom (don’t think about it too hard), it would be made up of the following groups:
Beadick stans who genuinely don’t understand why anyone else is here but are the majority, so they can filter a lot of this out and just make parallel posts. This is the stuff that gets cross-posted to Instagram.
Subset of the above who call it Benetrice because it’s less embarrassing but who have lost the war
Claudihero shippers who think everyone else is literally missing the point of the play
Claudihero ENJOYERS who think the above are literally missing the point of the play but enjoy exploring the dynamic and writing divorce fic
Members of both of the previous two groups that start regular flame wars with Beadick shippers even though their ships don’t intersect in any way
Benedick/Claudio slash shippers, most of whom make angst content about the dual that never happens
A somehow even larger contingent of Borachio/Conrad slash shippers
A somehow even LARGER contingent of Dogberry/Verges slash shippers
Hero/Beatrice femslash shippers, most of whom end up in flame wars over whether the ship is problematic because they’re cousins
Hero/Ursula shippers, all of whom promote their ship as the Ethical Alternative to the above
Margaret/Benedick shippers that are mostly just doing their own thing although Beatrice stans do screenshot and mock them
The extremely small group of Margaret/Beatrice rarepair shippers that are just *chef’s kiss* the most valid group on this list
People who are only here to write like 50k word Margaret/Borachio fix-it fics
People who are only here to write Don Pedro x Reader fic
Don Pedro stans who write whump fic about Beatrice turning down his proposal
Don John stans who write meta about how his villainy and deceit is fine because he’s sad that he’s a bastard :( (“Don John apologists”)
People who create blocklists of the above
Weird class of Benedick stans who are NOT Beadick shippers and instead write screeds about how Beatrice is abusive because she’s less outwardly affectionate
Weird class of Claudio stans who are NOT Claudihero shippers and instead come just shy of actually calling Hero gendered slurs (“Claudio apologists”)
People who create blocklists of the above
“Beadick is clearly compulsory heterosexuality” truthers
People who are only here to call Leonato a DILF
People who create blocklists of the above
All of the above groups are participating in the site-wide #anti maan #maan critical discourse “Is tricking your friends into falling in love abusive.” Greatest thread in the history of forums, locked by a moderator after 12,000 pages of heated debate.
I’m sorry but I can’t stop thinking about ‘what if tumblr had existed in the 90s’, cause:
It would have been nuts
THE FAN ART. OMG it would have been AMAZING.
A really harrowed-looking man who was probably in his 60s came into the shop today. He was wearing a gold-colored tie that kept sliding down the side of his neck because it was tied very poorly, and a rumpled light blue dress shirt. I did not see his legs or shoes. Part-time cashiers are sometimes just not afforded the luxury.
We said hello to each other as I scanned his items (diet coke and a nature valley granola bar- $2.69), me sounding more interested than usual just because he sounded so out-of breath and very engaged in his purchase. Also maybe because I could not see his shoes.
“How’s your life going?” He suddenly asked, swiping his card, not casually but almost pleadingly curious.
“Uhm, all right I s’pose” I said, too startled to think of a more cheery lie.
He nodded somberly. “Me too… I guess.” He paused and looked at me for a minute and then just said “it’s a Monday, ya know.”
“Mondays are like this sometimes” I supplied, feeling like we were having a really weird conversation hidden under the one that was actually taking place.
And then he left. I forgot to look at his shoes.
PART II
Honestly I had no idea that I would ever have the privilege of writing a sequel to this post. I considered it an odd moment, an interaction that changed me in a way, but a fleeting one. I automatically assumed our paths would never cross again, there was such a finality to that window of time on Monday August 22nd of 2016. And yet.
He returned.
I didn’t truly notice him come in, glancing up from whatever menial and already forgotten task I was busy with, but not registering who it was or why he seemed to put out an aura of familiarity. It had been weeks and I haven’t even caught a glimpse of him; the memory of Monday August 22nd of 2016 had faded like a dream. But lo he appeared before me, dressed in exactly the same fashion that made him look like he had just crawled out of carwash (albeit with a pink shirt and purple tie this go-around.)
His face lit up when he saw me, again holding a diet coke and a nature valley granola bar. ‘How is your day going?’ He asked earnestly.
‘Pretty well.’ I said, professionally containing myself, “how are you?”
“I’m good, I’m good” he said, sounding more cheerful than before but just as harried. When I handed him back his change and items and he looked like he was going to cry.
“Thank you” he whispered with a look of reverence I have only seen on the faces of ancient church members receiving the eucharist.
“It’s no trouble,” I promised, trying not to look perplexed.
He bowed (LITERALLY BOWED) and then made a hurried exit stage left, reminiscent of Lear just before the second act, halfway into madness.
A Lear I had again forgotten to note the footwear of.
PART. 3.
Okay I’m not even bothering with the pretentious Hemingway style for this one; I’m still reeling over the fact that he came back after four months AND on a Friday instead of a Monday no less.
Notes:
He was wearing literally the exact same shirt and tie he had on from part one, only with an orange sweater and fancy jacket over the ensemble to indicate that it was winter
He bought Lay’s sour cream and onion potato chips this time instead of his standard granola bar, but the diet coke was as usual
He told me that he always felt guilty for buying snack food but ‘you have to do what you have to do’
He then smiled sadly at me and said ‘enjoy your weekend… If you can.’
I sat in stunned, unblinking silence for about six minutes until a customer came up and looked me over worriedly
Who is this man
WHY DO I KEEP FORGETTING TO LOOK AT HIS SHOES
Part Four
First thing’s first,
Probably about two years of wear on them but otherwise well cared for. Socks were white, which I was only able to notice because this human being has zero clothes that fit and his pant cuffs were hovering about 3 inches away from his shoes. I keep thinking his outfits can’t possibly get any better, but this one takes the cake:
Crumpled white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, gigantic scarf that looked as though it were made out of mouldy carpet, neon orange striped tie, and a matching neon orange plastic digital watch that probably came out of a box of honeycombs back in 1988.
He did not grace me with his odd conversational charm today, but I received something better. A clue.
Today he was buying a red notebook and three ballpoint pens instead of snacks (which was questionable but this is a Thursday we’re talking about; the day that falls on the chaotic spectrum and which I am known for my overzealous distrust of), and when he pulled out his luxury black Mastercard to pay for his items he said eight words which shook me to my very core.
“I do get a staff discount on these.”
This has never come up before because discount plans don’t apply to food items. I have no need to ask the identity of a man buying a granola bar and a diet coke. But now.
I didn’t speak as I handed him his receipt, just nodded courteously. Only staff members know about the specific discount so I had no real need to ask for an ID for proof, and I was cursing my mistake in not asking for it anyway.
I must find this man. I have been here for three years and yet have only seen him within the confines of the store at odd intervals. I’ve never even seen him step into the store, or leave (another customer is somehow always in line behind him and demanding my attention.) I spent half an hour going through the college’s entire staff directory this afternoon… and may have found something. I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up, I am not yet certain and will have to gather a few more items of information, but for the first time I can promise a part to follow. Perhaps, an ending.
Cinq
Not an ending of any sort, but a very brief update from the field. My work schedule has changed since January and I was honestly beginning to wonder if I wouldn’t see the man again until the fall, as it’s been more than two months now. He startled me quite a bit when he literally blew in as if by a gust of wind right as my shift was ending.
He was in quite a hurry and only bought a diet coke ($1.50) before blustering(?) off, giving me no chance to run an investigation or perception check, but if fashion checks were a thing…
Please imagine, if you will, a man wearing a yellow polka-dot tie that was not even tied, an orange scarf, the watch mentioned in my previous entry, khakis, a bright periwinkle shirt… and an impeccably matching woolen periwinkle cape. He was also carrying a very large black satchel with tartan lining, every single pocket of which was unzipped.
He looked like a hedge wizard.
I want answers.
6.
I found him.
Masters in theology from Harvard
Distinguished professor of philosophy
God-tier identification photo; I cannot believe that I have not been hallucinating this man for the past 12 months and 41 days.
I could have sworn I’d reblogged this before, but I took Aesthetics from this man which started my art philosophy journey. He is a wonderful human and I’m not surprised by anything in this post, but I was VERY surprised to see a familiar face at the end of it.
World Heritage Post
I was totally concerned for this poor man until I hit the word “campus” and then just said “ah. Just a weird professor, then.” And lo and behold.
I am very sorry for this, but my brain would not shut up until I made it
you ever have a
moment with an entire fandom's perception of a character
i hope this one breaches containment. i want to see your blorbo tags. they are welcomed and encouraged
Christianity.
OKAY. THIS ONE WINS. YOU GUYS CAN STOP REBLOGGING THIS NOW
*nods*
Look, I wanted to be the type of person who was going to read Moby Dick, I really did, and then today's edition was just over three thousand words of quotes about whales, that's it, just...a bullet point list of quotes about whales, for three thousand words, and Idk I think I have to accept I'm not a person who's going to read Moby Dick lol
You have made a truly freeing decision. Low-key literary guilt is so unnecessary.
Dangit. I just pissed away a literal hour I Do. Not. Have. today perusing tumblr. I have as little self-control here as everywhere else in my life. Quelle suprise!
Whenever someone (especially a bigot) says something like they want the world to be like a Norman Rockwell painting or use Norman Rockwell paintings as some sort of shining example of a perfect world I’m reminded that he also painted this:
Rockwell also painted this.
Norman Rockwell: Murder in Mississippi Photo of a study for "Murder in Mississippi (Southern Justice)" 1965 Photograph This
More info (and various early versions) of the latter work, for anyone who like me had never seen it before.
We had a Rockwell show at our museum last year and the final room were his social issue paintings, including the above two. The Ruby Bridges painting is big and it confronted you right at the door, it was something else.
Those people who constantly reblog your stuff but you never really talk:
I do notice my regulars. You guys are the best.
“Regulars” makes me feel like a bar-tender…
Wiping down my dash at the end of an evening, I see your read-more, over-hear your rant in the tags, so I pour you a drink.
“…what’s troubling you, kid?”
It’s nine o’clock on a Saturday As the regular crowd tumbls by There’s an old fandom queen blogging next to me And her little gray tags catch my eye
She says tumblr I’m feeling like shit today can you send me some posts for a smile can we talk about slash, can you fill up my dash so I won’t have to think for a while
Laa dahdah didee dah La dahdah didee dah dadum
Fill up my dash, you’re my followers Fill it with pictures and fic Yeah we’re all in the mood for some memery And occasional pictures of dick
Now Jill is a centaur novelist And she writes of her girlfriend and wife She reblogs from Toni, who’s in My Little Pony, And probably will be for life.
As the staff implements wretched changes And we think of how aliens bone We are writing a lot about loneliess: It’s much better than writing alone.
AND sometimes we blog about politics
And sometimes we blog with a beer
And when I proudly boast that I’m older than most,
They say ‘gross, what are YOU doing here’.
*wild applause!!
nothing unites a city like a piece of publicly funded art that everyone hates
i'll go first the fucking bacon outside the IMA in indianapolis
paging @copperbadge
EYES.
Eyes everywhere
GLOWING eyes
Fucking eyes why
@tardigreatest you leavin this in the tags?
San Diego has the sun god statue at UCSD. Colloquially known as the sun chicken, was a huge disappointment when unveiled in the 80s but has since been embraced by students who walk backwards through the arch for good luck. Cyclist for scale.
It's real, it's a thing. No one understands it. We all make jokes.
London statue commemorating Mary Wollstonecraft, honouring her work for women's rights by making her nude and emerging from a shapeless mass in order to represent "every woman"
I can’t not contribute Blucifer, the deeply cursed horse that GREETS YOU as you leave the Denver International Airport.
At night it’s eyes glow red. Why??
Also, famously, blucifer the demon horse of DIA, killed his maker.
Personally, I embrace our satanic blue city guardian diety.
Ok, one more minor life goal established! Blucifer at night! I have been through the Denver airport on three (four?) trips so have admired Enormous Demon Blue Horse at least 6 times and I have never seen it after dark.
Obviously the cheapest fare Southwest can offer is no longer my only consideration.
(Science Daily article; Washington Post; NY Times)
The FUEL for these reactions is the dangerous, hard-to-store, thousands-of-years-half-life waste products of our current fission reactors.
The waste products of fusion have a half-life measured in decades.
This could change everything.
Here's the AP wire: https://apnews.com/article/science-business-california-climate-and-environment-d6cb7b048ce916e04be809482fd9cbe6?utm_source=homepage&utm_medium=TopNews&utm_campaign=position_01
Explanation from the article: "Fusion works by pressing hydrogen atoms into each other with such force that they combine into helium, releasing enormous amounts of energy and heat. Unlike other nuclear reactions, it doesn’t create radioactive waste."
i'm going to make a life i love even if it's not the one i expected or thought i wanted. and i am going to let myself be proud and grateful of what i do have. i am allowed to be proud of it without other people realizing gravity of what i have accomplished in scale to my life and abilities. i do not need permission.
The "hanging out with friends, acquaintances, co-workers, & family we may not see that often" season is upon us. Time for a reminder.
@gathermoments
I would buy this entire building based solely on this photo.
Life has gotten exceptionally busy lately, and may well remain so through to the New Year. Almost entirely good or at least neutral, so no worries. THE POINT (I do have one however uninteresting) is that I haven't even had a chance to look at tumblr in AGES. In OH SO LONG.
Or at least that's how it feels. In reality, it has been a week. Just one week. Time, man.