i always feel irrationally angry at Things (posters, ads, whatever) that specify something is happening on some date but not the year. i see them, some unspecified time in the future, and suffer burning curiosity
won’t someone please think of the future
[Original post]
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#yes this
“Please give me [sound of mid 90’s disc reader reading/buffering… it’s indescribable if you’ve never heard it]… one half tray of salad… Please give me… [more brief disc reading noise] one half tray of… Thank you! [loud munching noises]“
JumpStart 1st Grade, Knowledge Adventure, 1995
#oh my god, #this is an astonishingly specific nostalgia trip, #“what kind of school cafeteria will just give you one half tray of cookies and one half tray of ice cream” i wondered (itsbenedict)
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#games #my childhood #yes this #I have not thought about this game in a *very* long time
wish i could idle on netflix without it playing some preview like……chill the fuck out i need 150 seconds to physically contact my brain and another 150 seconds to decide if i’m going to watch more ds9 or pack a damn bowl
Seriously though the trailer auto play is anxiety inducing
And really, sometimes I want to watch the credits! I get autoplaying the next episode but it’s a movie, I don’t want to see some shitty trailer
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#yes this #(I almost never use our Netflix account) #(but I’ve [been in the same room while Mom uses it] enough to relate pretty strongly to these posts)
thereallieutenantcommanderdata:
Things that should happen in a Sci-Fi story with a Universal Translator
One character who constantly makes bad puns … except the UT totally fails to translate them. “I guess you could say he … had a bad time”, “Well, I don’t think they’ll be … visiting again any time soon”. There’s some other aliens of the same species who groan every time
A group of aliens who share a common language get into a discussion about grammar … but the UT translates the word they’re arguing about the same way every time. “It looks like they left in a hurry … or is it ‘left’?” “You’re expressing uncertainty, so you have to use the subjunctive form ‘left’” “No, you don’t use the subjunctive here, you’re expressing a deduction based on evidence, so you have to use the deductive form ‘left’” “Wait, you say ‘left’ for the deductive? Are you from the Southern Continent?” “Yes, I am. Wait, what’s it in your dialect?” “We say ‘left’ where I’m from”
A character unexpectedly becomes angry at another character. At the end of the episode you find out that the first character had switched verb forms to a more affectionate form when speaking to the second character and was mad that they were ignoring the obvious indication of their feelings
The captain nearly derails tense diplomatic negotiations because of a UT slip up, inadvertently implying a definite claim to a particular planet, as opposed to a tentative claim subject to negotiation
The crew is visited by a group of aliens whose UT is a few centuries out of date, so they’re greeted with Early Modern English
An alien recites the equivalent of Jabberwocky and the UT just completely gives us “’Twas something and the something something did something and something in the something …”
okay but I once went researching pumpkin names in French and Google autotranslated and I read with my own eyeballs the sentence, “Pumpkins, pumpkins and pumpkins are all different from each other.”
‘no es lo mismo ser que estar’, or in english, ‘being and being are not the same thing’
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#language #story ideas I will never write #yes this #some of these would be a bit embarrassment-squicky for my *personal* taste in stories #but still #and anyway when writers ignore translators sometimes they *still* end up with cringe-comedy mistranslations by accident #so it’s not perfect protection #(like in one of the comments that I will be rounding up soon) #((Cardassians try to hold a detective denouement #but due to a translation error half the people there think it’s a trial and try to apply a trial’s rules))
I don’t get seasonal depression, I just get slightly sleepier and more irritable and mopey when I don’t get any sunlight, but when I said this to my doctor she was like “you should still get a lightbox” and I did and now I have way more energy.
The moral of the story is, if you spend time thinking to yourself “well I don’t actually have [diagnosable problem], I have [milder version that I can just ignore]”, you could instead of just ignoring it get the accommodation for the problem and see if it improves your life. I do not expect to remember this next time I “don’t actually have the real problem”, but maybe eventually I will learn.
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#yes this #(though for this *particular* case I managed to skip the doctor part and go straight to the buying-a-lightbox part)
There is a particular take on the destruction of Tumblr that I keep waiting for someone to write, but no one has yet. Which means I apparently need to do it myself.
The take is, essentially, that not only should adults have access to adult content – in itself, valid and true – but also it is important to cultivate SOME social spaces where the overtly/explicitly sexual overlap with the non-sexual. (Not all spaces; I still think it should be illegal to have sex on the sidewalk. But SOME spaces that enable the sexual and the non-sexual to exist side-by-side)
Part of what I think leads to the dehumanization of sex (and subsequently allows the stigma and shame to cling so heavily to it) is the complete bifurcation of life into SEX and EVERYTHING ELSE and never the twain shall meet. When we – at every turn – put all aspects of human life into one sphere, and sex into another, we dehumanize it. We remove the full subjectivity of people from it, which is a problem.
I think we need to actively cultivate spaces LIKE before-time!Tumblr where we can be people, and talk about what happened at work today, and the funny thing our dog did, and how our parents make us crazy during the holidays, and how dare they do X thing on Supernatural, and here’s a great version of that distracted boyfriend meme, and ALSO be able to talk about being horny on main, as the saying goes, and find the right porn clip to fap to. Or post nude selfies. Or hunt down that sweet, sweet NSFW Symbrock fanart.
Having spaces where the explicitly sexual and the non-sexual overlap is important to humanizing sex and, subsequently, de-stigmatizing it (which, it should go without saying, is particularly salient for marginalized people who often suffer way more heavily from sexual stigma)
I think this should be the final word on my NSFW blog before Tumblr purges it. Ironic as it is, on a blog that was created to separate my horny from my main.
But there’s a reason that the tag on @sinesalvatorem that this blog sprung forth from was “#is this nsfw?” Because sometimes you just don’t know, and spaces where you can exist at that boundary are important in themselves.
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#yes this #The Great Tumblr Apocalypse #The Last Tumblr Apocalypse #sexuality and lack thereof #(fun fact: according to Know Your Meme the first known use of the term ”horny on main” was someone on hypno-fetishist Twitter)
But seriously, on the whole? I’m gonna miss this place when it finally enters it’s final FINAL FINAL death throes, because for all of its faults, all of its shitty design, Tumblr was undoubtedly great platform in one respect at least: the micro-blogging format here was ideal for lurkers.
Reblogging coupled with the unique style of tag-comments the fandom developed here suddenly made visible the big chains of lurkers who normally don’t interact with the work or its creator directly, but they pass it along in their own little circles, putting up your content up in their own spaces, adding all these heartwarming tags like “it’s great!!”, “omg i love u” or “i’d read that”s.
I create sometimes, when the mood strikes, but I was always mostly a lurker, actually! Especially back on LJ.
I’m old enough for my ancient, defunct LJ account with less than 10 entries to be still floating out there somewhere, and old enough that migrating to DW is less painful due to nostalgia factor. Yet, it is a nostalgia factor brought on mostly by the fact that for years, LJ was primary place to lurk on!
After clicking through all the “yep I’m old enough to view those entries :) :) :)” buttons on the way, of course.
((The image below: old-school “Lurker Day” LJ/DW banner, one of many you can still find out there – this one’s from https://soc-puppet.dreamwidth.org/))
This so hard. It’s the reason Tumblr became my home rather than any other social network.
Because Lurker is my creature-type. I started on Tumblr exclusively reblogging things and adding those little comments about what I liked about them. And I always felt like those comments were inadequate to express how much I got out of the thing, but I figured saying a small amount badly was better than nothing.
And then I gradually gained more confidence in the idea that I could say original things and they’d also be good. At least good to me. Maybe other people too, if they happened upon it, but that wasn’t necessary. It just had to be good to me.
And then, well, I became sinesalvatorem. Like, me. /I/ became this fucking blog. It stopped being a url I registered so Tumblr would let me have a dashboard to lurk a bunch of cool people. I became the blog because I was able to really believe that I could let my Self out here.
Which only happened because I had a place where I could reblog other people’s stuff with mediocre commentary, and that was OK. So it was also OK if my mediocre statements stood on their own. And maybe, eventually, stopped being mediocre – but only to the extent that I stopped caring if they were.
Because what mattered was (-matters -is) they’re /me/
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#same!!! #if I am capable of pulling off Dreamwidth blogging now it is only because Tumblr gave me the space to grow #and yes I have an LJ with one entry #(it’s an entry directing people to my Tumblr) #The Great Tumblr Apocalypse #The Last Tumblr Apocalypse #Livejournal #Dreamwidth #yes this
Look I DON’T CARE if I won’t haVE TIme FoR reading I WILL BRING MY BOOK ANYWAY cause having a book with you when you go somewhere is such a good feeling, OKAY?
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#yes this #I bring paper books a lot less often than I used to #(I’m more strongly germophobic now that I work at an outside-the-home non-freelance customer-facing job) #(there are never times anymore where I can just take a week off from my life with no knock-on effects) #(if I get sick every possible response involves letting a bunch of people down) #(including my future selves who needed those wages for food and shelter and stuff) #((yes of course I take the stay-home response)) #((I am neither amoral enough nor desperate enough to sink to such levels of evil)) #((and my boss gives out unpaid leave very freely as long as you tell him in advance or have a decent reason why you couldn’t have known)) #anyway my point was that paper books are kind of a pain to disinfect #and if you have a dedicated Outside Book you won’t make much progress in it because yeah there often *isn’t* time for reading #what I do have is a vast and ever-expanding archive stored on my smartphone #much of it in the form of text #and quite a bit of that in the form of ebooks #I agree that it’s not *quite* the same visceral feeling as clutching a chunk of paper to you #but I find it does manage to capture *most* of the comforting emotions #tag rambles #in which Brin has a job #Brin owns *two* 2010’s computers now #tangents #I guess I’m in a tag-rambly mood today
does anyone else have a Misophonic Anger Switch and a Misophonic Shame Switch that are triggered by totally different categories of sound? I just want to go up to evolution and ask it w hat
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#yes this #(I was gonna say I don’t know whether I qualify as misophonic) #(but then I looked it up and apparently nobody *else* knows who qualifies either‚ so) #((although with the anger one I’m not sure if it’s really *those* sounds)) #((or if I’m just very general-sound-sensitive right after eating dinner)) #church bells chiming out hymns manage to sound like unfulfilled obligations #sometimes I wonder if they do it deliberately to try to convince lapsed churchgoers to return #but the effect seems to get weaker the more familiar you are with the song #and lapsed churchgoers would presumably be pretty familiar with *all* the songs #so maybe not #(one time I was staying in a place within earshot of a church that chimed two hymns three times a day) #(and a person came door-to-door asking for signatures for a petition) #(about noise pollution) #(from the *trains*) #((however I was not the one who answered the door)) #((so I had no chance to tell him his noise-pollution priorities were sorely misplaced)) #tag rambles #is the blue I see the same as the blue you see #misophonia
man this has been said before by cleverer folks than me, but sometimes you have to sit down and let the sheer size and age of the storytelling tradition just completely overwhelm you, ja feel?
like— think for a second about how mind-bogglingly incredible it is that we know who osiris is? that somebody just made him up one day, and told stories about him to their kids, and literally thousands and thousands of years later we are still able to go “there was a god whose brother cut him into pieces”, it’s so arbitrary, it’s so incredible
that in talking about scheherazade and her husband, you are doing something that someone in every single generation has done since it was written— you are telling stories that have lasted an impossible amount of time
can you conceive of telling a story, and then traveling into the future and hearing that same story told— with alterations, and through media that you could not possibly conceive of, but your story— in the year 3214?
the fact that we! as a species! have been telling the same damn stories for so long— the fact that we’ve seen homer’s troy and chaucer’s troy and shakespeare’s troy and troy with fucking brad pitt because we never fucking stop telling stories! never ever ever!
we never stop caring about stories, or returning to the same stories, or putting our own spins on stories. we never stop talking about the characters as if they were real, or asking what happened next, or asking to hear it again.
generation after generation, they never ever ever stop mattering to us.
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#history #my past self has good taste #yes this #I feel like also relevant is the post I reblogged a while back #in which somebody makes a joke that relies on knowing who Ea-nasir is #(for anyone who doesn’t already know: he was a merchant ~3750 years ago) #(the earliest surviving complaint letter we know of is complaining about his substandard copper) #(and now you too know who he is and can understand the abovementioned joke)
Brinens and Things 