@intentandinvention / intentandinvention.tumblr.com
No matter how progressive or well-read you are, there are always going to be moments in your life where somebody pushes back against something that's so culturally ingrained you never even considered it before. And you'll say "Huh, it never occurred to me to challenge this but you're right" and that doesn't mean you were "morally toxic" before, it means you're a non-omniscient human capable of growth.
U.S. conservatives always talk about creating jobs but get SO MAD whenever anyone mentions banning prison labor like imagine the insane ammout of jobs that would be created literally overnight if companies in your country had to actually employ people instead of using slave labor from people that got caught with weed 10 years ago.
Daily reminder that the US, who love to scaremonger about "communist labour camps," have legal slave labour if you're in prison
Since in canon hobbits are good at hiding and finding things, and their home is generally considered a paradise to other races for its peace and prosperity, I think it would be a fun little thing if for some reason Maglor ended up just being hidden in the Shire and accepted there despite being Unfortunately Tall and allowed to heal
Like maybe, when the Shire was being settled a group of Hobbits continued westward just to scope out how safe their land would be, and happen upon the shores enjoying the sound of distant singing. They set up camp and unfortunately didn't realize the tide was coming in until it was too late and are all scrambling and crying out for help as one of their party gets washed away to sea.
Maglor, who was nearby but didn't notice these tiny sneaks until the screaming started, rushes up and in a panic and sees what he thinks are a group of children (with pointed ears, he can't see their large feet under the water and sand, and thinks they're Elven) alone and Drowning and thinks "not again" and dives in to save them
Which he does, but he's had 4 thousand years of malnutrition, lack of care for his body and mind, and has his wounded hand that is black and scarred, which he had to use to pull these young ones to shore. Once everyone is saved he collapses to the ground, exhausted and unconscious.
The Hobbits, of course, can't just let their savior stay on the beach like this where he could also drown or be swept off to sea, and they MUST thank him for the life debt, so they carry him to their pony cart and head back to the Shire where they can give him a proper thank you
Maglor is out cold for weeks though, long enough to be brought back to the Shire and situated in one of the guest rooms in the newly built Great Smial of the Took Clan. They clean him, bandage and heal his wounds, put him in some hastily made Tall Folk clothes made out of bedsheets, and wait for him to wake.
When he does, he's in a panic and then confused, for he's never seen hobbits before, and under the fear and dread he's a little amused. All throughout the First and Second ages he's managed to avoid others and has never been kidnapped, yet here he is, at the mercy of folk that look like children.
Some things get lost in translation between Hobbitish, Westeron, and Sindarin, and Maglor thinks that he's now a prisoner to these small people, and the Hobbits think that they are going to care for him and have him be a guest of theirs for as long as he likes. Maglor, who hasnt had great mental health for the past 2 ages, agrees to be their prisoner, for honestly, he believes he deserves it.
So he heals, and once he heals (minus the blackened hand which gets medicated and wrapped and secured under a leather glove which reminds him of his eldest brother and he grieves) they put him to work. Or well, they allow him to help in their gardens, to sing songs of the sun, of joy and family and all things Hobbit. They let him help in the kitchen, where he shares recipes long since lost to the sands of time, and he helps them build a forge and how to do basic metal working, for even if his craft is one of voice and song, he is still his father's son and a Prince of the Noldor- he knows how to use a forge.
And time moves on. They build him his own smial, one that suits his height, and Maglor heals, both in mind and in body, and he goes from not wanting to escape his captors because he deserves enslavement to finding a second family amongst these folk. He gets adopted into the Took Clan, and the Hobbits all affectionately call him "Old Maggie Took" or "Songbird" or if his singing is particularly a little to loud a little too early in the morning "that damned Rooster"
He helped protect the Hobbits, weaving Songs of illusion around their home, fighting Goblins and Orcs off with Bandobras Took, making daggers and leather gear for Belladonna Took as she travels the world, and trying his best to fight off the wolves during the Fell Winter. Not as many Hobbits die to fang and claw that winter, but they did to cold and starvation and sickness.
After Belladonna and her husband died that winter, her young son Bilbo often spent time with him (mostly to escape the well wishers and their looks of pity) and so Maglor taught him things to keep his mind from loss. Taught him Quenya, and Sindarin, all about the Noldor, about Elves and Men of old, what little he knew of Dwarves from Maedhros and Caranthir, and when Bilbo asks in a quite voice, how it feels to be the only one of his family members left
He, and the whole of the Shire really, also play a very fun game of Keep Away with Gandalf whenever he visits, and while he knows Something Is Up with the Shire, he never found out about Maglor (even though he has heard about Maggie Took, and all her apparent namesakes)
While Maglor wasn't there to see Bilbo off on his own adventure he was able to make sure that when he came home it was to a home at all, even if some silverware did go missing. And when he sensed something fowl lingering in Bagend after his return, Maglor just brushed it off as something tainted from a dragon horde (later he weeps for how wrong he was and all the lives lost that he could have prevented if he investigated more)
And when Bilbo goes off to Rivendell, old and grey, all those years later guided by his dwarves, he has a silent, nervous, elven companion with him.
And its not the first or last time Elrond was grateful for the nature of Hobbits, but he wept tears of joy as he hugged his father nonetheless
how have you been?
Update:
spider eye arrangements
Me for the last 15 years: Starting a timer when you have to wait for something or stand in line can be helpful, because no matter how impatient you feel you can check the timer and remind yourself it has not been several eternities and has in fact only been five minutes.
Me setting a timer when I got to bag claim just now: I'm so clever! I will now be reminded that it's only been five minutes and bag claim usually takes about twenty!
Me looking at the timer thoughtfully: ...another Very Neurotypical Moment With Sam, it appears.
FTR it was 17 minutes from "arriving at the bag claim" to claiming my bag, so right on time.
Someone tagged this post "#it’s all fun n games until baggage check takes over an hour" which is 100% legit; a common sentiment in notes is that sometimes you don't want to know how long something has taken. But that is one of the reasons I started doing the stopwatch thing in the first place!
On the one hand, timing something is about reminding myself "No, it's only been five minutes," but it is ALSO about knowing when something is taking way longer than it should.
If I'm put into an exam room in a doctor's office, I start a timer. Because I have been forgotten about in a doctor's office before, I get nervous that I'll just be sat in there forever, and the timer tells me "No, they haven't forgotten you, it's only been 10 minutes." But it also tells me if I have been there longer than appropriate (generally more than 40 minutes) so that I know when it's justifiable to flag down a nurse to find out what's going on.
At bag claim, because I know it usually takes about 20 minutes to get my bag, I don't get concerned until the timer passes the 20 minute mark without any bags appearing. At that point I know I need to take off my headphones and start paying attention -- looking at signage, maybe asking someone if I'm at the right carousel. Maybe don't worry yet, but start double-checking. Perhaps the delay is unavoidable and it'll just be an hour, but at least, having asked, I KNOW it'll be an hour, and the timer will tell me when the hour is past and I should maybe check in again.
Now, if the bags do start showing up before 20 minutes but my bag hasn't shown up by the 40 minute mark, I know that again it's time to put my head on a swivel, and at the 50 minute mark it's time to go speak to someone in the baggage claim office. This has more than once helped me locate my bag when it's accidentally been sent to the wrong part of the airport. There is no point at which, without the timer, I would go "man this is taking a long time" and then actually go ask, because I wouldn't actually know how long it had been.
The timer both prevents me from worrying before I need to and tells me when to start worrying -- essentially, because I'm both perpetually impatient and also infinitely patient, I've outsourced my patience to a stopwatch. And because I time a lot of things, I now know the average time a lot of things take, which helps me calibrate my concerns appropriately. Ten minutes is a long time to wait for a burger from McDonalds, but it's actually on the short end of the time it takes to get a burger from Shake Shack. It's not a long time to be on hold with the HR office of my old employer, but it's longer than I'd usually be on hold with my pharmacy. Et cetera.
I know I say this all the time but I still find it hilarious that I didn't know I had ADHD until I was forty years old.
[ID: an image of a baggage claim carousel in Chicago Midway Airport, followed by a gif of Idris Elba from Pacific Rim saying, and captioned, "RESET THE CLOCK!"]
My cats have this meow that means "please come with me to fix this" after which they'll lead me to the problem in question, usually a empty (or 'empty') food bowl or a closed door they want open. They look at the 'problem', they look back at me, clear message.
What fascinates me is how this illustrates what they percieve as being in the realm of my 'power.' I control the food, I control the door, sure, but my cats love to sit on the balcony in the sun, and it has happened plenty of times that on a rainy day they come get me, go to the balcony and show me... the rain. "Please fix this" they say. "Please get rid of the wet"
"Silly kitty," I say, "I can't control the rain." I then walk into the shower and turn on the rain.
Robot characters who are given names like SL-308-62 but instead of their human friend going Well let's call you Sally for short, they instead ask the other if they Like their current name.
"Do you like your serial number?" they ask. "Yes, quite. It reminds me of who I am" the robot replies. "I have heard others like me go by different names after some time, and maybe one day I'll choose one for myself, too. But right now that is my full name, yes" they continue.
Because it's not your decision to make whether or not the robot will receive a new name. It should be theirs only. What's the difference? One is more complex and the other is simplified. They were both given by strangers instead of themselves.
"62 will do," they conclude. "It's my model number - there will be no other 62 after me."
Robots who instead start assigning numbers to their human friends
“Not that I mind,” I tell SL-308-62 one afternoon as we enjoy our shared lunch break (I have my packed lunch, and 62 has connected themself to their portable power bank) “but why do your call me ‘four’?”
The LEDs along 62’s appendages twinkle- a tell that they’re mulling over an answer.
“It’s a nickname,” they explain, “you are my fourth acquaintance aboard the station, and I’ve assigned you a serial number. Your full designation is F-001-04.”
“What does the ‘F’ stand for?” I ask, curious and charmed.
“Friend,” SL-308-62 says, their tone fond. “It stands for friend.”
now im imagining what pride events in ankh morpork are like
there will EXCLUSIVELY be kink at the ankh morpork pride parade
(Tags via @romanceyourdemons)
Extremely correct response, leaving out the inevitable debacle over citizens declaring counterfeit genders in order to have rarer pronoun pins to sell to collectors in the underground pronoun market.
Dibbler, only mildly discouraged, eventually realizes he can sell embellishments for your pronoun pin, which he claims will upgrade your gender.
Also of note is that there are no cops present at Ankh-Morpork Pride. This is not because they aren't welcome (everyone knows Nobby is as kinky as they come), but because the festivities include throwing bricks at the City Watch building and they are busy trying to make sure they still have a place to work the next day. The Night Watch prepares each year with a barricade, and pre-marriage Vimes always collects the good bricks so he can save for a house. Nobody is really sure where the tradition came from, but it's good fun and usually nobody gets hurt too badly.
The bricks are provided by Vetinari, who considers it a good test of city infrastructure and training for the Watch.
More from the tags, I love all of you
@seventhscorpio COME HERE
At one particularly memorable Pride, a bunch of Drag Queens from Fourecks had a fight with one of the wizards (some bloke with a hat with Wizzzard) on it because they claim he nicked their travelling luggage.
I am in discworld heaven right now laughing, it's all so perfect and Terry would love it.
ik how reviving looks in a game but imagine irl if you died in battle and then wake up 5 minutes later to your healer mage going "chop chop let's go you're not done here! finish killing that guy" like thanks for unbreaking my bones but jeez
me with my life flashing before my eyes: mourn for m-
the guy casting resurrection: no time for that, get the fuck up harry
if you like dishonored and cool, dangly things to hang off your bag or keys, come check out the shop! it'll be taking an indefinite hiatus this friday sep 1st, so come get some while you can 💃
Use code SUMMER20 for 20% off your order!
Why blood? Because hemoglobin in our blood has a lot of iron and thus has a metallic scent, similar to the coppery smell of a bunch of pennies collected together.
People who do things like floor an entire room in pennies counsel that you really need to seal/varnish the finished surface otherwise the smell can be pervasive.
what if i want to smell like blood?
You want vampires? Because that’s how you get vampires.
Ralf, that’s the kind of reply you can post everywhere but Tumblr.
Of course they want vampires.
Running through the haunted woods in my copper penny dress like a jangly human-shaped windchime to drive all the vamps wild.
talking to preschoolers is awesome bc they have not fully differentiated stories into 'true stories' and 'imaginary stories' yet so you will tell them about something that happened you once (coyote came out of a bush right in front of you and got startled) and they will tell you about how one time their house was full of coyotes in every room 'including five in the garage' and they're not even like, aware i think of the idea that they are technically 'lying'. they are simply telling stories about coyotes bc its time to tell stories about coyotes.
Concept: a mermaid who collects human artifacts, but, like, exclusively objects that humans have dramatically cast into the sea in moments of high emotion, catharsis, or personal revelation. Each item is carefully mounted above a little index card that outlines the circumstances of its hurling in terse, clinical prose.
How many outdated cellphones does she have from businessmen who realize that Family is more important?
Fewer than you’d think. For a variety of fascinating demographic and cultural reasons, importance-of-family cell phones are considerably more likely to be hurled into lakes than oceans. She’s co-authored a paper on the subject that’s due to be published next month.
hey i said this in a group chat earlier and honestly it fucks, so i’m gonna post it here too
Be just a little curious about it. Why do you feel disgusted by something? What is it about the thing that disgusts you? Is it the whole that disgusts you, or just a part? Do you feel disgusted because you’re supposed to? Has someone told you to feel disgusted? Are you just disgusted because something looks unfamiliar to you? Do other people seem disgusted or are there people opposing your disgust (or do they, on the flipside, like it?). Is there a cultural context you might be missing? More importantly, could there be biases like racism, sexism, classism, homo- or trans-phobia at play? Is the object of your digust actually causing harm? Does someone benefit from your disgust politically?
Disgust is a powerful emotion, but one that deserves a lot of self-reflection. It’s easily weaponised and often deeply flawed.
…is this supposed to apply to finding wet moldy produce in the back of the fridge, because I don’t see how, and if it isn’t supposed to apply to that, how are users supposed to tell when to use it?
Mould is an excellent place to go to talk about the application of interrogated disgust. There are a lot of cases were foods are intentionally laced with mould for the flavour it produces. We control rot and mould in a lot of ways in food - kimchi, stilton, sour cream, they’re all produced by allowing things to rot in specific ways. And some ways are more blatently obvious than others! You can look at stilton and see the green penicillin moulds used to create it, whilst you might look at bread and go ‘this isn’t going off’ - but yeasts are creating alcohol and CO2 inside the bread, which is a sort of spoilage.
In relation to food in the back of the fridge, absolutely throw it out. You’re not harming anyone by not wanting to eat food you know is past its best. But there are cultures who ferment foods in ways we might immediately balk at because your brain connects the mould in your fridge and the sensible ‘probably not good to eat’ warning with something harmless, and that’s the danger of disgust.
You might genuinely find them disgusting. Icelanders can do what they want, nothing about kæstur hákarl (fermented greenland shark)* appeals to me and I think I’m fine in saying I’m disgusted by it. All theirs.
But, you can see how this could be weaponised, yeah? There are plenty of cultures and peoples where ‘they’re disgusting, vermin-like’ were used as legitimate reasons to oppress and destroy. In that case, their food - harmless and controlled as the spoilage might be - might be used as evidence to prove their point UNLESS you interrogate your initial gut reaction to their fermented foods.
Back to our questions - Does the person telling you about the fermented foods have an agenda? Yes, they do, bigotry. Is your unfamiliarity playing in? Yeah, you’ve never actually tasted the food, you don’t know what it’s like. Is there cultural context you’re missing? Might be! Again, in the case of kæstur hákarl, Iceland is a hard place to grow food and you make edible what you can. Has someone told you to feel disgusted? Yes! Do other people disagree with the speaker? Yes - the culture that created the food think it’s swell!
In this case, you might want to hold back on acting on your disgust. There’s enough rhetorical evidence here to suggest it might be displaced.
(* I’m using kæstur hákarl as an example because the sort of strongly fermented fish products scandinavians make are a good example of food you might not want to eat that doesn’t have any other strongly anti-Scandinavian things attatched to it. I can discuss a theoretical here in a way that means I don’t have to walk into someone’s pre-existing biases. White Scandinavians don’t have to worry about it, no-one is actually using kæstur hákarl to oppress Icelanders.)
I had things like kink culture, purity culture ect. in my mind when I wrote the original post, and you might be able to see now how weaponised disgust is used against fandom and kinksters. A gut-level disgust is what drives a lot of homophobia and transphobia too, when you scratch down deep enough.
I hope that gives you some more context on why I wrote what I did and how you might apply it to the real world!
It’s a good example of how easy it is to assume “deconstruct” or “interrogate” means “throw out” or “disregard” or even “treat in the opposite way you would otherwise.
…It’s something that I think is both interpreted and intended - a lot of the time, someone will say “you should question X”, but really they mean “You should decisively be against X.” Honestly, it’s kind of rare for someone to say Question and really mean it, like what OP is doing. Refreshing!
this needs more detail but Pratchett’s strength as an author wasn’t that he was revolutionary. Everything he wrote had been invented before and circulated through academia and discussed and dissected. Raw genius is only a small part of what makes a work of fiction good. The other pillar on which every book stands is how it communicates. You can read the same sentiment or have the same thought over and over again and not truly understand it, because it was never put in a way that you can relate to or feel intrinsically. Terry Pratchett’s main talent was putting old, worn ideas into words that really Connect
Going Postal is a great example of this because the thesis of the book is ‘Nationalising communication networks adds a tremendous value to people’s lives that far outweighs the cost to taxpayers of running them’.
who cares about that? Your average rando doesn’t have the educational background to do the math and won’t be able to see past corporate lobbyists talking about tax rises. They’ll vote to carve up and sell off health care, transportation, and communication to people hell-bent on taking their money.
But Going Postal reframes the problem from the bottom up. It’s so stealthy that you don’t even notice that it’s about the pitfalls of privatisation and the role government investment plays in the tech sector. It doesn’t talk about time value or discount factors or cost-benefit ratios, it talks about communications networks as a highway for human emotion, it talks about the desperation of unsaid words, it talks about what freedom means to people VS what it means to capitalists, it talks about the blood that greases palms and the way that capitalism and finance eat actual innovators and researchers alive.
The messages of Going Postal come out of the push for liberalisation in the UK in the 1980s. They’re old, they’re debated, they are worn and they are tired But it is the way they are communicated that makes the book so electrifying.
“i liked it before it was cool” well i liked it AFTER it was cool when everyone abandoned it
It's never been cool and I still liked it 🤷♀️
i liked it when i liked it and at some point it was cool and i have never figured out where the overlap is
I like it and I'm not cool
checkmate, people who think it's cool.
