mbta moment

Official Post of Massachusetts

genuinely inconsolable I can't have one of these pompeii bread plushies fr.

Blorbo from my mosaics.....

mbta moment

Official Post of Massachusetts

Pro-writing tip: if your story doesn't need a number, don't put a fucking number in it.

Nothing, I mean nothing, activates reader pedantry like a number.

I have seen it a thousand times in writing workshops. People just can't resist nitpicking a number. For example, "This scifi story takes place 200 years in the future and they have faster than light travel because it's plot convenient," will immediately drag every armchair scientist out of the woodwork to say why there's no way that technology would exist in only 200 years.

Dates, ages, math, spans of time, I don't know what it is but the second a specific number shows up, your reader is thinking, and they're thinking critically but it's about whether that information is correct. They are now doing the math and have gone off drawing conclusions and getting distracted from your story or worse, putting it down entirely because umm, that sword could not have existed in that Medieval year, or this character couldn't be this old because it means they were an infant when this other story event happened that they're supposed to know about, or these two events now overlap in the timeline, or... etc etc etc.

Unless you are 1000% certain that a specific number is adding to your narrative, and you know rock-solid, backwards and forwards that the information attached to that number is correct and consistent throughout the entire story, do yourself a favor, and don't bring that evil down upon your head.

Editor here. Can confirm.

"Two centuries later" just triggers a mental note to check if timing is consistent throughout the book, because it may mean more time jumps are ahead. "200 years later", or heaven forbid, "201 years later" will have me draw up a time line. The more specific the number, the more critical people become.

Strange phenomenon. Well spotted, OP.

actually i think i might have an explanation for this from linguistics? i think folks get more nitpicky if you have specific numbers because of gricean maxims, specifically the maxims of quality and quantity

basically gricean maxims are a set of guidelines that we all carry in our heads that we expect other people to follow when having a conversation in good faith - i’m copying and pasting definitions from someone else because my attempts at summing up quality and quantity weren’t going so hot

so basically, when you put a rough number in a text, people think subconsciously ‘oh, the exact number isn’t important, because if it was they would tell me an exact number, so i don’t need to worry about this’, whereas if you put something precise in, people’s brains go ‘wait, they think i need to know this information so i’ll remember it, but now it’s later and they’ve said something that contradicts it, so at least one of those times they were lying and i must figure out which time it was’

Also: don't specify data storage sizes. Just, you know, don't.

Bronze incense burner in the form of a peacock, Seljuk Empire, 12th-13th century

from The Brooklyn Museum of Art

I want it to skitter up to me on all its little legs because it's *so sure* that what I need to fix my problem is to be censed with myrrh, and then do a jump of surprise and let out a smoke ring when I wave it away.

I feel bad immediately and lure it back over with the combustible bay leaf off my dinner.

A gardener reports that I really should stop feeding them, because a flock of incense peacocks has burnt through a prized lavender bush and the smoke has sedated his beehives.

@kedreeva

@elodieunderglass !!!

You will LOVE this thing!!!

I think people on EBT should be allowed to eat at a five star restaurant for completely free once a month minimum and I'm not joking. It should be a human right to have the roses not just the bread.

Etch this in marble and put it on my grave

"If you have two loaves of bread, sell one and buy a hyacinth." -Iranian proverb, I think, maybe

As we come marching, marching, unnumbered women dead Go crying through our singing their ancient song of Bread; Small art and love and beauty their trudging spirits knew— Yes, it is Bread we fight for—but we fight for Roses, too.

I've asked this question before and been surprised by the results, now I have access to more weirdos it's your problem:

It is the middle of a Sunday afternoon. You have nothing on, and aren't expecting visitors, deliveries or post.

Unexpectedly, there is a knock at the door.

Not naming options to skew votes but...

I think there's something fundamentally baffling with the way most of you think.

love this egyptian figurine of a woman baking bread in the brooklyn museum. she looks exactly like me while i'm waiting for my food to be done in the microwave. truly an eternal experience

"can't emphasize enough that it has a LOT of claws and it is NOT happy. good luck out there."

get weirder get gayer & by god my friend you must get hairier

lycanthropy

On of the less intuitive things about love, I've found, of any kind, is the importance of needing things.

I didn't realize it until recently, but I've always seen love as something requiring sacrifice, selflessness, patience, and generosity- to ask for nothing is to be the best person I can be, small and quiet and never in the way, always happy and helpful, self-sufficient and present when desired.

It's only as an adult, now, that I'm beginning to see the selfishness of wanting nothing.

I cut my friend's hair in my kitchen the other day. They wanted a trim and I had the skills, so I offered, and was genuinely excited when they stopped hesitating over "bothering me" and took me up on it. It was a peaceful afternoon, and we had tea and chatted for an hour or more.

My brother and I shared popcorn at the movies a while ago. When I came time to pay, I pulled my card out like a wild western sheriff and slapped it on the machine before he could fight me for it first. The satisfaction was delightful.

Someone called me crying on the phone the other day. Kept apologizing for disturbing me at work, talking about how they were bothering me on my lunch break. I was telling the truth when I told them that really, I was flattered and honored and relieved, knowing that if they were hurting I would know, that I didn't have to worry in silence. It felt good to hear them slowly come down, and to know that they knew it would be better soon, and to hear them laugh wetly on the other end. We're getting together for a visit next week.

It's hard to need things, if you've trained yourself not to. It's hard to want things, when you don't know how to want anymore. Trusting people is difficult, and so is relying on them, but I don't know where I'd be without the people who rely on me.

I've heard a lot of people say, "Nobody will love you unless you love yourself". I've had a lot of thoughts about it. It's not right, but it's not wrong, either, I think.

"Nobody will love you unless you love yourself"... I've always taken that to mean, "You will not be lovable until you develop a positive view of yourself as a person".

Now, I think it's sort of inside-out.

"Nobody will love you unless you love yourself"... because nobody can show their love to you in a way that you can accept until you treat yourself kindly, and learn what you need, and what you want, and how to ask for it, and then give that vulnerability away.

Love, for me, is someone I ask for a ride to the airport. Whether they end up doing this or not is irrelevant.

It's not needy, or selfish, or taking up energy. It's giving the gift of being wanted, and needed, and thought of. It's giving someone the security of being part of someone's life.

academic bias is so funny because you’ll be reading about the same historical event and one person is like “Despite the troubles that befell his homeland and near constant criticism of the court King Blorbo remained strong in the face of adversity” and the other one is like “after letting his people carry the brunt of his cringefail decisions Blorbo the Shitface refused to listen to any reason and continued to be a warmongering piece of shit. Also he was ugly.”

tags by @hexjulia

#third paper: King Blorbo's actions were not actually as influential as has often been assumed by both cringefail authors A and B and-

#fourth paper: too much focus has been placed on the causes of the trouble (e.g. author 1 author 2 and author 3)#with too little focus on the actual lived experiences of it.#this paper therefore ignores King Blorbo all together and follows the lived daily experiences of Monk Blorbo#academia#history - @hamletthedane

Demons and monsters that torture people because they feed on human suffering are so dumb. People are suffering everywhere my guy go literally any place and take a deep whiff.

Monster that feeds on suffering becomes a professional caretaker for people with chronic pain and terminal illnesses. They can't change the fact that these people are suffering, but they help a bit and in the meantime they're fat and happy off that Sweet Sweet ambient pain in the air.

Two towns over there's a demon lord trying to get their cult to abduct people for torture, but they keep getting stopped by heroes and the like, so they're barely scraping by. Meanwhile Belogarth the Registered PCA is chowing down on back pain, medication side effects and looming mortality for eight hours a day and has become the most powerful demon on earth without realizing it.

"But don't their clients feel weird knowing that they're feeding off their suffering?" No they think it's hilarious and they're real shits about it.

Finally a medical professional who believes that they are in pain. Because the fucker is actively chowing down on your agony. Not only am I going to get treated by them I'm going to invite all of my chronically ill friends to come as well.

Turns out if you treat the pain then the humans will bring you more humans who are suffering. It's like a restaurant where the waiter is so impressed by your ability to eat food they're giving you more on the house

They say things like "well, it's a real feast day for Belogarth today!" and "if my meds are held up at customs again I'm gonna put Belogarth in a food coma" and Belogarth is the one feeling weird about it

... I literally wrote a bloodline for Vampire: the Requiem that is like this. The Nosoi.