#‘and quarts obviously’ well obviously

[vigilskeep]

Harker I was raised super religious southern baptist and I didn’t get the Angel shit until you said it. On the other hand I also didn’t care to learn. win some lose some. 40283938 lost memories

your religious trauma permit to not know anything has been successfully approved

[robylovi]

“Of course she would want to create life, finally, after destroying so much of it.” My god, op, you ate that up.

I think it's wild that people finish Steven Universe and come to the conclusion that Rose was a terrible person.

Everything Steven did different, he was able to because he was raised in a completely different environment, around people who expected him to grow and let him, and who supported him.

Pink Diamond had no one to support her. Rose did. And when things got especially bad, Rose did the one thing she thought would genuinely end the war. It lead to bad things happening, but it wasn't because of malicious intent that she did what she had.

In a post-war world, Steven could make decisions using the information and support he had that Rose never did.

Obviously she wasn't the paragon of morality, but she tried. She tried with what she knew. She made bad decisions, and she lived with them.

I guess a good way to phrase it would be like.

If Pink Diamond is Eleanor Shellstrop (original life) from the Good Place, then Rose Quartz is Eleanor Shellstrop (near-death timeline), and Steven is the Eleanor Shellstrop of the final season.

" Look, the point is people improve when they get external love and support. How can we hold that against them when they don't?"

Pink changed when she received support from Pearl as Rose, and later from Garnet, Amethyst, and even Greg. She was still learning after hundreds of years as Rose, like Eleanor was after hundreds of years in the afterlife.

And no, I can't see Rose using Steven as an escape like a lot of people claim. Rose finally had the opportunity to do what she wanted to do ever since she was Pink Diamond: create life from nothing. Of course that would excite her! Of course she would want to create life, finally, after destroying so much of it.

There's no reason for her to believe that the diamonds would have ever changed, because she couldn't, as a diamond.** Not to mention she wouldn't have a reason to think they'd come back to earth. If she had known about the cluster, she definitely would have said something instead of ignoring it.

** to that point, she wasn't treated like a diamond either, unlike the others. She wasn't as set in her status the others.

[mythicmanuscripts]

BESTIE OMG OMG I LOVE OMEGA!AEMOND SO CAN I ASK FOR MORE PLEASE??? LIKE HOW IS HE WHEN HE’S IN HEAT?????? <33333

I'm so glad to see how we're all obsessed with omega!aemond

So sure, let's discuss omega!aemond in heat, as always because I know this isnt everyone's cup of tea I'll put a cut in to make avoiding this easy.

So I know I've said this before and I'm sure I'll say it again: Aemond avoids anything and everything to do with being an omega. He pushes down all instincts, he doesn't listen to anyone trying to tell him about courting, none of it. He refuses to engage with that part of himself beyond the threadbare nest his bed has become and he only lets that stay because every time he tries to take it apart it's like there's this intense painful ache in his chest so he can't bring himself to do it.

Anyway, this plan works well until he meets you and suddenly he's finding an alpha's scent attractive and you're treating him both with respect and dignity and also like a precious omega you want to court and poor Aemond has absolutely no idea what to do with himself.

He's clumsy and uncontrolled when it comes to interactions with you, and try as he might he just can't push down his instincts. He's sure it's borderline pathetic how desperate he is for your attention, but he can't help it. He doesn't know how to stop it and honestly, he doesn't even think he wants to stop it.

Why would he stop it when you always smile at him and hold his hand and discuss things with him?

So obviously you start formally courting Aemond and Aemond is trying his level best to not make a complete fool of himself. Though this doesn't go well considering how his scent spikes with arousal every single time he's around you and how he seems to hang on your every word. He genuinely doesn't realise that he's constantly in your personal space, he just knows that being further away from you makes him uncomfortable.

I like the idea of his first seat since meeting you being before you actually mate him? So obviously he has to go through this heat along like he has with other ones, but of course that doesn't work here because he's so used to you. He tries to satiate himself, really he does, but he just can't.

The entire castle is so worried about him because any person walking past his quarters can smell the pain and distress. He just can't manage to calm himself down, and he ends up just sitting in his mess of a nest, not even touching himself and instead just letting out this loud, high pitched whines to try and call you to him.

At frist Alicent refuses, but then the heat starts becoming much longer than normal and eventually you convince her to let you in to look after him. He's curled up naked in a ball when you find him, shaking and whining.

The moment the door opens and he looks up to see it's you, he's sitting up immediately and holding his arms out to you, whining louder again. The message is very very clear: he wants his alpha to come join him.

Once you're close enough to touch he's grabbing your hands and pulling you into the nest. You try to stop him, to double check if he really wants an alpha in his nest but he's in your arms purring softly before you can even form the sentence.

Nothing sexual actually happens that heat, because when you were eventually allowed to see him his heat was nearing it's end. Besides that, he had spent he last few days in agony and fear and that he's finally in the arms of his alpha he kinda just... drops? You stay for two days with him in that room and both days are just spend laying together and trying to get him to eat and drink enough to start building his strength back up.

Needless to say, he's extremely embarrassed once he recovers and spends the next week or so avoiding you as much as possible. But of course he can't stay away for long and so when you show up outside his door to check up on him. he immediately lets you in.

You try to have the conversation sitting in the living room section of his quarters but he immediately sort of just herds you into his nest on his bed? He won't take no for an answer, he loved how his nest smelt for the first two days after his heat because of your scent and he wants it back.

You ensure that you two are officially before his next heat, and when that one strikes you're ready to help him proper.

[taosnipple]

Hey anon! Didn't post your message because it was transphobic and vile and you're a fucking weirdo for sending it!

The rest of this isn't for you or people like you.

Anyways hey friends, if you have a giant pot with a lid or a crock pot, you can make massive amounts of deeply nutritionally dense bone broth or vegetarian stock this fall! My go-to is a whole 12 pack of drumsticks that are on clearance, 2 small or one big onion (or one quart-size bag worth of scraps, you can use the roots and skins if you discard ones with too much dirt or rinse them before deep storage in a freezer,) 3 carrots, roughly chopped, mostly for color and earthy sweetness, and up to a whole head of garlic (roasting in the oven beforehand will pump up the flavor so hard and make any cold germs in your home weep in fear) put em in a pot with a bit of oil, do a few minutes of stirring and frying for the veggies to take on color, then add enough water to cover, pop on ur lid, bring to a low boil for 4-6 hours for ready-to-use strength, or 8-12 hours for concentrated gelatinous goodness (for either option pls check in on ur soup occasionally and stir/top off with water. You can add any powdered seasonings u want but bay leaf/onion/garlic/salt/pepper/ginger/cumin is my favorite blend, measure with ur heart!)

I like to get mayyyybe 60-80% of the fat off before storing because its so well seasoned and makes vegetables of any kind go so hard you'll never think about bioessentialism or heteronormativity ever again. Portion as much soup as you can stand into ice cube trays or other means of freezavle storage and squirrel it away for when you feel like shit and nothing will fix it, i PROMISE YOU good soup will at least help you find the first step. Season dish by dish as needed, i like making mugs of steamed egg with chili oil and soy sauce when i use my soup! The higher fat content also makes for a super satisfying mouthfeel if used for ramen (even instant!!!)

Obviously, if you're transphobic, this soup will magically turn into rat poison before you eat it. No way around that one. Suck it up. You'll never be able to enjoy a good soup the way someone too queer to see the boxes any one ingredient fits into can enjoy the experience of unity and wholeness. You'll never be cool. Do a kickflip lol.

[redux-iterum]

On the subject of Redux VS Quarts Hearts, and obviously ignoring the third book because of spoilers- is there anything in specific you prefer to your original fic, Dullard? Certain scenes, characterizations, etc? For me I appreciate Sandstorm being alive in this version, I really like this new take on her and I am excited to see how she progresses as a character! I also like Goldenflower and Tigerclaw adopting Fireheart, his relationship with Bluestar and of course Yellowfang and Cinderpaw. :) I could go on but it'd be a wall of text so let's just leave it at saying you and Lynx did a great job!

Also, what were some of the impulsive subplots you mentioned, if you don't mind elaborating? When I was reading the Redux as it came out, I never got the impression anything was suddenly added to the story.

Dude, I don't think there's a single thing in Iterum that I don't prefer over the Redux. The Redux is a photograph of the writer I was at the time I was working on it - impulsive, failing to think ahead, copying writers I liked and having no idea what my own voice was. Embarrassing, to say the least. The only reason I'm keeping up that blog is for posterity (and in case there's a post or two I need to reference or link to here), otherwise the whole thing would be gone.

Lynx, I would say, is the main source of the best parts of this version, so I can only take so much credit here. Tigerclaw and Goldenflower adopting Fireheart was her idea among other things, and god knows how much help she's been with the language, genetic and family tree stuff. If it wasn't for her, this blog would not have happened. We'd be stuck with the original version to look back and and go "eugh" at. With a second voice helping to plot things out and bounce ideas around, this version has far outpaced the Redux, and I am very grateful for it.

As for the impulsive subplots: I don't remember the Redux very well beyond a wall of shame, but Sandstorm's death and the fakeout with Cinderpaw seeming to have been killed were added in on a whim. The one good thing about Sandstorm dying was that I posted it on Christmas and people were losing their god damn minds. That was pretty funny.

[fuckkbrunch]

Every time I've went through this book, I was intimidated by this one. That and the price of this recipe is ridiculous, so fucking it up would cost me around a hundred bucks.

This one is a riff on the old French classic of steaming a truffled chicken in a pigs bladder. It's served with a foie gras and black truffle sauce, and is meant to be done with a Bresse chicken, which is a fancy French breed. Obviously I couldn't find that breed of chicken here, but I did get all of the other ingredients. Tony says the chicken substitution is totally acceptable as well.

Intimidating, yet simple. Starts by making a court boullion by combining a carrot, a stalk of celery and a leek with a pinch of peppercorns and a sprig of thyme. Pour in a cup of wine for two quarts of water and boil for fifteen minutes. Strain it, and this is what you'll steam your chicken with.

Truffles. Never tried them, never worked with them, always thought they were ridiculous with the insane pricing you hear about. These three cost me thirty dollars, but they're not fresh. They were jarred and in a small amount of brine.

Slide the slices of truffle under the skin of the chicken breast, along with a couple chunks of butter. Wrap in cheesecloth and secure with twine.

I broke a strainer to use as my steaming basket. Boil the court boullion and pop the chicken on the basket. Cook at a high simmer with a lid for 45-50 minutes, rest for 10.

This would look better with some browning, but what do I know. Now, this fucking sauce.

I searched EVERYWHERE to find this. Nowhere had it. I asked online and had people climb up my ass about it. Don't message me about foie gras animal cruelty. I know it exists, I'm eating it once not starting a foie gras factory. Moving on.

Anyway, I finally found it on a shelf in a French pastry shop by chance. Blend this whole can with two truffles, some cream and butter and white pepper. Thin it with hot court boullion if necessary.

I thinned this too much. My butter solidified with the cold cream and I panicked thinking that the sauce had curdled. I splashed a bit more boullion than necessary, and here we are. Flavour is fantastic though, so rich and smooth.

Ignore my ugly peas, they weren't required. Neither were the potatoes, but come on. A French dish with cream sauce without potatoes? No way.

| Poulet "en Vessie": Hommage à la Mère Brazier |

Taste is a 4 out of 5. Rich and classic. Steaming the chicken keeps it so perfectly moist.

Difficulty is a 3 out of 5. Not difficult, just particular.

Time was about two hours.

As I was packing up the leftovers, I realized this sauce smells like a very fancy mushroom soup. Smells fucking great, and you could put it on anything. Which is a good thing, because I have like 3 cups of it to use up. No way in hell I'm throwing any out, the sauce alone has about 70 bucks sunk into it...

[nicoleneco]

UGH! I can’t take it anymore. On this social media site, practically nobody knows who I am. And if too many people do end up finding this post I will delete it. For obvious reasons I’m not going to say what either are called or too much detail on it. I’m just going to leak what I’m doing atm because I am extremely excited for it all but My excitement has to be contained off social media so nobody gets leaks, but I can’t talk to people in my life because any emotion you show to them gets a silent “yeah okay, I’m trying to watch tv scoot”.

I already leaked on Phi1zas stream that I started working on something to do with coding.

- I’m making a cozy game that deals with cooking, exploring, and hobbies. I have practically everything I want noted and am working on. But sense I am new to coding I can’t figure out how to do half the things I’m wanting just yet.

^

If you guys have any hobbies or some aspects of cozy games you guys like, please let me know. They might be added. I’m thinking about a battle system in the game, but for what is actually happening that sounds not on topic but absolutely hilarious.

I’ve leaked it multiple times already on my channel but didn’t say what it was.

- a medieval book with no Magic or Dragons. Half the pages are wrote and I read over them and made notes to change. The rest of the story will be written and read over soon, edited in full read again, ect. As for the release, it will either be this year or in the 1-2 quart of next year.

Anything else?

This months vlog went from one thing to another. It is now going to mix in some hobbies as well as the price, and how I get over/through burn out.

Octobers Main channel videos will still be the same topics.

Mod Reviews(Minecraft Story/Stories) will all be Halloween/spooky themed.

Minecraft Hard Core (after you see next weeks season 2 death) will still be the same. No changes

And the quest to kill the ender dragon wont change either.

The games in between will obviously be fall/fall cozy/ witchy/Halloween themed. I don’t intend to do scary games. Maybe if I find one I really want to play. But I’m not in the head space to be doing that just yet.

I have a video about running, health, and a virtual marathon company I plan to release. I just can’t figure out if I will release it in October or November.

Also. Once I get the kinks worked out, I plan to make my own website for my stickers and prints. Give you a little show- Redbubble is nice, quick, and easy to post things on. But each sticker is about 2$ Nice, not a lot. I make about 10% of said 2$.

The only way I could truly make something back for my art on the website is if I raise the price. Which definitely stands against what I want to do.

Now do I think that this would flourish for me? Probably not, my redbubble has been open for about 5 years and has only made one sell.

I do see it as a better option. Plus, I make things I like. Do I all the time? No! But the art that I do like that I would sell, I like myself and wish to put my stickers on my stuff. And If I already had an area of stickers I made, I could just yoink one and slap it on my journals instead of paying someone and waiting for it to arrive.

[xxwhiskeyxx]

One-shots w/ Whiskey: Ghoul Heights!

AN: So I believe that ghouls are typically quite tall, though obviously some species/hybrids can equal unusually tall or short ghouls. But those who are reborn as ghouls usually stay the same height they were when they were human, though some grow or shrink sometimes. As seen with Sodo and Cumulus! I gave our lovely shorties the very important quart and half inches because as a smaller being THEY COUNT! 

Swiss:

Glamored: 6’2

Unglamored: 6’7

Rain:

Glamored: 6’1

Unglamored: 6’2

Aether:

Glamored: 6’4

Unglamored: 6’9

Mountain:

Glamored: 7’3 

Unglamored 7’8

Sodo:

Glamored: 5’6

Unglamored: 5’6 ½ 

Cirrus: 

Glamored: 5’8

Unglamored: 6’

Cumulus:

Glamored: 5’

Unglamored: 5’2 ¾ 

Sunshine: 

Glamored: 5’10

Unglamored: 6’2

Quick Fun Facts w/ Whiskey: Mounty is also quite a tall boy even for Earth ghoul standards, who are already very tall beings so Copia had to have his shower and bed specially constructed/rebuilt so he can be comfortable. 

Dew is seen as a runt because of his size (it partially having to do with him being reborn as a ghoul and not born) as most with any type of fire are typically well-built and tall individuals (you have all seen the well-built & large Ifrit and Alpha, they will be added later. I plan on doing the Papas and Older Ghouls as soon as I get a little more information on those like Chair and Pebble!)

[yinwaryuri]

Okay friends of the MDZS/The Untamed fandom

If you've seen my previous post about making lotus root and pork rib soup, you know the journey I've been on. If you'd like to try making the soup yourself, a link to the recipe is toward the end of the OG post. That one got a little long with all the additions and extra advice from friends, but since I've made it again I'm reporting the results. Why I feel the need to do so is beyond me but this is the only genuine cooking I do and I deserve to be proud of every attempt, so if this annoys you, imagine these faces:

I will give a disclaimer that I had meant to make this soup a week and a half earlier but the mental illness was too strong, so yesterday I forced myself to push through the mental illness anyway so I wouldn't waste too many ingredients (we still wasted some 😔). So, alas, this soup had no ginger and half as much lotus root as desired, plus I forgot to read how much seaweed I was actually supposed to use (way less than what I used), and completely omitted the chopped scallion even though I had it ready because I just. Forgot to actually add it.

We carry on.

In all of my past versions of this soup, I didn't include the rehydrated seaweed. I was advised to give it a go this time and ...well. 😅

That bowl is a good 9 inches in diameter and 3 inches deep. And I took that photo AFTER adding a liberal amount of seaweed to the pot. Yes, I rehydrated the whole package. I didn't think about anything other than, "I'm finally adding the final step to this recipe I've been following!" and entirely missed that it only calls for 1 cup. [Hold on. Googling how long rehydrated seaweed be stored right now. OMG YOU CAN FREEZE IT THANK HEAVEN.]

This is me scooping out all the fuckin seaweed that entirely took over the soup 😅😅😅😅😅😅

Remember how I said there was half as much lotus root? Yeah, this is seaweed soup with a hint of pork now. Good luck finding any slices of lotus root.

I had also assumed that this seaweed would be salted (the packaging was NOT in English, but honestly I can't blame the label for this). I had certainly added what I thought was already a generous amount of salt but let's remind ourselves that I am barely a cook by any means. This girl doesn't know shit about how much salt should go into 12 quarts of water to add enough taste. I did go heavy on the goji berries though.

This resulted in the broth being mainly pork and goji berry water :/ if I'd had the motivation to go out and buy fresh ginger and remembered the scallion I'm sure it would've been better (and more salt obviously), but hopefully I'll be in better spirits next time I make an attempt. I learned a lot from this one.

The one thing I am proud of though?

Look at how clear that broth is. The oily bubbles are from the meat, and I also apologize I don't know if it's my phone's camera or my photography skills, but if it doesn't look clear to you I promise it does irl! I didn't use any of the cooking wine or soaking the meat with the ginger like @of-sevenseas suggested, but just by following the process in the recipe and making extra sure I washed the meat well this time, it seemed to work out!

Lessons learned:

Making soup while having a bad mental illness day is not a failed endeavor, but watch out.

Don't do this without ginger. What are you doing. That soup is wet stuff in hot water.

ADD MORE SALT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, YOU CANNOT BE THIS WHITE.

Read the recipe including measurements. Cooking is, of course, more improvisational than baking, but there's a reason we follow guidelines. Especially when we're rookies, still.

Next time we're gonna try the cooking wine and ginger thing with the meat. It sounds like an adventure.

Celebrate your wins!!!! I did have a success in this attempt!

I also did very well keeping the cat away from this whole 7 hour process, which is the greatest success of all.

(Obligatory kitty pic, since I mentioned her. Meet Lucy everyone. She's hiding under my blankets from the loud scary generator outside my window.)

[tabbyclaw]

Happy weekend! Allow me to suggest that you spend a bit of it making some gorgeous and easy tomato soup.

First, obviously, you're gonna get some olive oil going on medium heat in a big pot, and add in one diced onion and one diced carrot. (I am normally very much of the opinion that you should always add more root vegetables than the recipe asks for, but in this case, trust me: You only need the one carrot.) Keep those moving for a bit until the onion gets golden and the carrot starts to briefly consider softening, and then chuck in some tomato paste. "Some" is based entirely on what your heart tells you, like all the other measurements where I didn't just use a whole package of something. This is soup; it's meant to give the soul an outlet and I'm not gonna tell you what your soul needs to say. Stir that tomato paste into the vegetables until it really starts to integrate with the onions and smell gorgeous, then stir in a generous pinch of sugar to cut some of the acidity. Add in a 28-ounce can of no salt added crushed tomatoes -- they don't have to be no salt added but it's always easier to add more salt later -- and a quart of vegetable broth, and bring the entire thing to a boil. You could also add some jarred red peppers at this point if that's what your soul wants. Drop the heat back down to a simmer, cover, and leave it alone except for the occasional stir until the carrots are completely soft. This could take anywhere from 20 to 40 minutes, depending on how obstinate your carrots are, although it's less about the carrots themselves and more about them being a barometer for how much all your other flavors have melded. Throw in a handful of basil leaves -- don't worry about prepping them; rinse them a little if they need it but otherwise just cast them in like leaves on the stream and stir them into the depths. Give it a couple minutes to let the flavor sink in without losing that bright green smell, then the whole thing is going into the blender. Carefully, and in batches, because blenders don't tend to like hot liquids, but once it's all smooth put it back in the pot and stir in cream until it's soft and velvety and beautiful and back up to proper soup temperature. Step back and gaze upon your creation with a warmed heart and a soon-to-be-full stomach.

Thing this soup goes well with:

Grilled cheese sandwiches

Parmesan crisps

Scrambled eggs on toast with soft cheese

Seriously, this soup really loves cheese

This is a basic and infinitely customizable soup, and it keeps well in the fridge and reheats beautifully. Go forth with this knowledge, and use it joyfully.

[officialcreature]

Honestly the "let people enjoy things, it's just for fun" is annoying, because some things people move past just being silly and doing it for fun. I'm thinking specifically about crystals, astrology, essential oils, things like that.

Crystals is like, they do look cool, but I've seen one too many bitches start really believing in it. Cause once you start for fun, you start getting videos suggested to you, and you meet people that are more into it, etc., and next thing you know you're sucked in. It's almost like how cults work where you think, "Well obviously I would never believe that," but it's a slow boil. You start with like, oh these are fun ➡️ Oh, well it's just fun to learn what they all supposedly do ➡️ Well I carry around this quarts cause it's supposed to be protective, but really I just like it ➡️ well I feel like I have been sleeping a bit better since I started putting amethyst under my pillow ➡️ god knows what. And the deeper you get the more you're getting fed stuff and meeting people that reinforce it. Next thing you know a small number of people are forgoing modern medicine for crystal therapy, and spending huge amounts of money on crystals in an attempt to fix problems rather than doing productive things (and not wasting their money).

Astrology though I personally can't stand. I think the thing that just always irks me most is when people associate any of my characteristics/actions/feelings/etc. to my sign. I (like everyone else) am a complex person with lots of history, experiences, beliefs, etc. and it feels very invalidating for you to just be ignoring all that and saying because I was born at a certain time I am a certain way. Like I may as well just not have a personality or experiences because nothing matters other than the day I was born?

And astrology is, as everyone knows, set up to be so nebulous that anyone could honestly find plenty of true things about themselves in any sign, because we all are sometimes hard headed, or want approval, or are disorganized, or whatever. Also then they start throwing in sun, moon, mars, etc. signs and cups and shit, and it's like, well of course it could fit me. You've listed every human emotion or characteristic possible!

But it's another case of "It's just fun to read" ➡️ "ironically" saying thing like, "WOW how Libra of me" ➡️ "Well I realized I'm a Sagittarius moon, so that would explain why I like to..." ➡️ "I'll never be good at ____ I'm just too much of a Taurus." ➡️ "I would never date a Gemini. I've dated two in the past and it just did not work out." ➡️ Etc.

Like I think it's just human nature to read these things and be able to know it's just made up and that obviously you could apply it to anyone. But if you keep reading those things, the human brain loves to notice patterns and draw connections. So you end up just priming your brain to be ready to notice a "Leo trait" you might exhibit. Then you just start getting non-stop confirmation bias, because once you start thinking, "well maybe..." it can apply to anyone, so you can make anything a confirmation.

[booxmowo]

Gonna do them in order until I run out of steam:

Diffocod: It’s a cod, which obviously makes it a water type, but it also either differs or is difficult. Actually I’m gonna go with Diffocod differ in ways that are difficult to tell. It has a bunch on minor form difference a la Spinda. It’s Water/Psychic I’ve decided. Diffocod possess the mental prowess to immediately recognize all of their minor differences.

Firebermen: Is obviously a Fire type. But also... fibers... and “men” is plural implying that this is one of Falinks-Tandemaus sort of ones that is just straight up multiple creatures treated as a single Pokémon. I’m now imagining tiny men made of fire that are tied together by a fiber... that is also made of fire. Weird concept, hypothetical GameFreak, but okay. It’s a pure Fire type.

Nanarcer: Is, I think, an archer made of bananas? So primary grass (Oh hey we already have a starter trio (no we don’t, Firebermen and Diffocod are definitely single stage Pokémon)) and... I’m feeling Fighting as the secondary type here. Yeah this isn’t a starter either this is the Bounsweet/Smoliv kind of Pokémon, it’s earliest stage is a banana with a face and it gets more humanoid as it evolves.

Exulation: Oh man this one doesn’t give any hints towards what kind of creature it is. I believe it’s a pun on “Exhalation”, so it’s primary characteristic is that it breathes out... I think it’s a Fairy type, and there’s some sort of magical property that occurs every time it breathes, but I really can’t guess what the thing actually looks like.

Sweeze: Another Fairy type. A funny little trickster made out of candy. Bet it’s gonna get a weird signature move that makes it really good in competitive and then we get a ton of memes about how, like. Tyrannitar and Grimmsnarl are scared of Sweeze.

Barbon: Is a fish but actually it’s not a Water-type, it’s Steel/Dark. Wait this is treading really closely to Overqwil in terms of concept, maybe it shouldn’t be a fish? Hmm... maybe the execution will be different enough.

Browbedably: Oh man what a name. But it’s a portmanteau of “Browbeat” and “Dabble”, so this is like, a really overbearing artist? I’m now imagining it as as a sort of jerk version of Smeargle, so I think it’s another breed of dog and is a Dark type.

Strisitor: Portmanteau of stride and visitor. This is definitely a mid-stage one. It’s first and third forms have more descriptive puns involving the word stride, and so it needs to incorporate the same word and so we get “Strisitor”. It’s a bird, but a bird that prefers to run so I don’t know if it should be a Flying type. You know what maybe Strisitor is a pure Normal type, but I think it’s evolved form is going to add something to it that gives it a secondary type.

Wishine: Is a shiny coin that evolves into a wishing well. Or maybe they aren’t literally a coin and a well, but they have those motifs. In fact, they’re actually fish. Yes this is the third fish line in this post but in my defense there really are a lot of fish Pokémon. Wishine is pure Water type.

Quartwish: Wait I actually hadn’t read this one when I wrote Wishine’s description, is this Wishine’s evolved form? Okay. Quart in this context is a unit of volume, a reference to quarters, and a reference to quartz, because Quartwish is a Water/Rock type. Quartwish carries a basin filled with water and Wishines wherever it goes.

Prinvaully: Is a portmanteau of prince and volley. This Pokémon has a regal motif and throws things. It’s not the fully evolved form, because that ones name is gonna be a pun on “King”. Prinvaully is... a Steel type, not really based on an animal. It’s got a crown but the crown is actually a part of it’s body and similarly shaped spikes grow on the rest of the body and get used as ammunition instead.

Trifies: Huh. Trifies, Trifies, Trifies... There’s a specific vibe to this name, but it’s really hard to figure out what words it might be playing on. Maybe “trifle” but that doesn’t tell me much. ... I think it’s a Fairy type, and I think it isn’t fully evolved and I... can’t tell you much more.

Sumentfurtific: Umm... does this one even fit in the character limit? No it doesn’t it’s 14 characters long. Illegal Pokémon name. Anyway. Sumentfurtific is ground. Like not just that’s it’s type, Sumentfurtific is literally just a soil layer. I uhh... don’t know what it looks like when you send it out onto the battlefield. Sumentfurtific is not allowed to exist, so it doesn’t need to make sense.

Apporins: This Pokémon’s entire reason for existing is a stupid pun on the phrase “comparing apples and oranges”, and to be clear, that is a compliment. This a third branch of the Applin family, where the wyrm starts inhabiting an orange instead so that it can know what it’s like and my god that is stupid but that’s what Apporins is and you know what this might be my favourite on this list GameFreak please turn Apporins into a real thing. It isn’t even a different type from Applin’s other evolutions, this is just straight up a third Grass/Dragon final form of the same family.

Powean: ... I think this one is Prinvaully’s evolution. It’s a pun on “queen”, not “king” like I thought it would be. Yeah I guess “prince” and “princess” both start with “prin”. My bad. Still pure steel type. It grows even more menacing spikes and an even more impressive crown.

Founty: It found you and now is ready to collect you’re bounty, heh. This one is just a sendup to westerns in terms of it’s personality, which is pretty funny. It’s a Dark type, due to the grey morality of the archetype its aping. This one is based on an animal, but it’s gonna be something entirely unrelated to westerns that the designer just thought would look cool.

Sankle: Water/Ground. Quicksand Pokémon. It is a pit, that you sank into, up to you’re ankle.

Aerocioundly: Was worried this was another Sumentfurtific situation, but no it’s 12 characters that’s allowed. Crisis averted. So obviously this is a Flying type. In fact I think a pure Flying type. Windy thing.

Derphitiges: Oh that is a weird name. It’s Bug/Rock. It’s like a termite but it eats rocks instead of wood.

Aunces: It’s, uh... Yeah I’m out of ideas. How many did I get... 19? Okay.

Game: This page will procedurally generate a set of fifty nonexistent English-like words each time it's loaded. Load the page, pick one – it can be any one, but it has to be one of the set of fifty generated by your very first page load – and tell us what kind of Pokémon it is.

[baking-potato-27]

Okay I’m gonna rant about some stuff I realized after my experiment of self-medicating with sodas. This is far from the worst I’ve heard or seen about the American healthcare system, but I’ve gotten angry enough about this one particular thing that I’m going to talk about it.

I’ve been on the same prescription for ADHD for literally over a decade now. Yet I am legally required to go to the doctor every three months for them to keep giving it to me. That means I’ve had forty appointments, give or take, that are only a couple minutes long, just to continue getting this medication that I need to be a functioning human being. And every time I have to pay for it (even though it’s an in-network provider) and take time out of my day to go there.

Oh, but that’s not even the bad part, that’s not even why I’m writing this post. Insurance covers my medication on paper, but I still have to pay a considerable amount for it. But it’s a stimulant, and there are other stimulants I don’t need a prescription to buy — most notably caffeine and nicotine.

If I were to stop buying my medication and instead drink one caffeinated soda every hour, at the current price of 12-packs at my local grocery store, I would save hundreds of dollars a year.

Think about how much soda that is. Three quarts per eight-hour day. Almost four gallons in a 5-day work week (I don’t take my medication on weekends, but I know some people need to do that as well).

Think about how much sugar that is. If I don’t buy the diet version, I’m adding nearly seven times the recommended daily sugar intake to my diet. And the acid in the soda can’t be good for my teeth either. (I have brushed my teeth no fewer than four times today, just to play it safe.)

If I were to self-regulate with caffeine, I would save significantly in the short run. I might be able to find something even cheaper than store-brand cola that I can tolerate. And I probably wouldn’t need to drink an entire 12-ounce can every hour. But I’m not going to do that in the long term, if I can avoid it, because the health effects will catch up to me sooner or later.

And that’s with soda! Remember the other alternative I mentioned: nicotine. I’m obviously not going to take up smoking just because the pharmacy is out of my medication. But there are people who self-medicate with cigarettes — or probably by vaping nowadays. And that has to be worse for you than soda.

But that brings me to my final point: why is this something I even have to think about? The pharmacy is not just out of my medication — they can’t even give me an estimate on when it’ll be back in stock. It could be Monday, it could be months from now. Their guess is as good as mine. I was lucky enough to not be affected when the medication shortage first hit last year, but I’m feeling it now. How is this even an issue that exists?

Now the onus is on me to call around and find an in-network pharmacy that has my medication in stock. Not only does this cost me time and effort, but it’s going to be farther away, and I’m going to have to pay extra for transportation (even if that’s just gas costs — this is America, after all).

I guess this turned out a bit rambly and maybe it’s not the biggest issue in the world. I just needed to get that out of my system.

[whileiamdying]

This Is Not a Burial, It’s a Resurrection: Staying Power

By Zakes Mda ESSAYS. — JAN 24, 2023

The story of Lemohang Jeremiah Mosese’s This Is Not a Burial, It’s a Resurrection (2020) unfolds through poetry. The poetry of images and words—the interplay of light and shadow, and the lyricism of the narration. It ensnares us right from the opening shots, of a horse going through an aesthetically beautiful yet obviously traumatic experience at the hands of blanketed Basotho men and women. The action is made more haunting by the application of a Wong Kar Wai–esque step-printing technique—which blurs and then sharpens and then smears the image over the excitement of the perpetrators and the resistance of the victim.

The film is set and was filmed in Lesotho, a former British protectorate that is now an independent kingdom, which is geographically completely surrounded by South Africa and therefore highly dependent on South African goods and services. A great percentage of Lesotho citizens work in the mines, farms, and homes of South Africa, and Lesotho also relies heavily on their remittances. For its part, however, South Africa needs the water that is piped to it from Lesotho, where huge dams have been constructed. Many Lesotho villages have been displaced to make way for the construction of these dams. At the heart of This Is Not a Burial is just such a displacement. The story focuses on the bereft eighty-year-old widow Mantoa, an accidental hero who finds herself becoming a catalyst for her community’s resilience.

The setting of the film’s opening is bleak. We are in a run-down tavern. The notes of a lone lesiba instrument fill the air—if we can talk of air in this environment, which looks stuffy despite the fact that the space is sparsely populated, its denizens all sitting or standing by themselves, each perhaps contemplating the social pain caused by a lack of connection with others, each body weighed down by loneliness at worst, solitude at best. Perhaps we’ll learn which as the movie proceeds. Loneliness is imposed on one; solitude is a choice. Solitude is the state of being alone without being lonely.

Solitude is also the stuff of magical-realist fiction. And This Is Not a Burial has strong elements of that narrative mode, not because it exudes a sense of the supernatural but because, in it, the strange and the unusual exist in the same context as objective reality, without being disconcerting. For example, in one scene, as Mantoa (Mary Twala Mhlongo, who was seventy-nine years old at the time of shooting) sits among the ashes and debris of her burned-down house, a group of sheep appears, and the animals rally around her, giving her solace.

In the opening, the aloneness of the denizens of the tavern, even in the midst of company, is also haunting: a man stands alone against the wall drinking a quart of beer directly from the bottle and nodding absently to the music; two lovers sit on a bench with their backs to each other; another lone man smokes a cigarette and blows a cloud of smoke; a woman dances alone, languidly flapping her arms like a drunken bird to the music of the lesiba. Indeed, everything is languid and lonesome here, including the music. A lesiba is a mouth-resonated wind instrument played by the Basotho and the Khoikhoi peoples, with a flattened quill attached to a string stretched over a long stick. Its notes are often accompanied by guttural grunts made by the player. In this scene, these sounds enhance the ethereality of the ambience.

The lesiba player here is also the film’s narrator. He is portrayed by the well-known South African actor Jerry Mofokeng Wa Makhetha. He gives a virtuoso performance without moving an inch throughout the movie. Only his face, as seen in the tavern, and his elegiac voice carry the gravitas of the narration. His pace is slow and deliberate. He introduces us to Mantoa’s village: the old people called it Phula ea Meokho, which literally means the Valley of Tears but is translated as Plains of Weeping in the movie for, I think, poetic reasons. When French missionaries came to Lesotho in the 1830s, they renamed the village Nasaretha, after the biblical Nazareth. The narrator tells us, “They say in Nasaretha, if you place your ear to the ground, you can still hear the cries and whispers of those who perished under the flood, their spirits hallowing from the deep.”

From this, it becomes clear that setting is very important in This Is Not a Burial. The landscape itself tells the story. It is a character in its own right, not just a place where the story happens because a story must happen somewhere. It even speaks and cries for what the villagers have lost and what they are about to lose.

When the story begins, after the lesiba player’s long but engaging narration, we learn that the Lesotho government intends to flood the valley and build a large dam as part of a program of “progress” and “development”—or so the villagers are told by the bureaucrats who hold meetings to convince them of the wisdom of the decision. The reality is that South Africa needs the “white gold,” as water is affectionately called, for its thirsty cities and industries. The villagers are going to be moved to Motimposo, on the outskirts of the capital city of Maseru, a place that is already crowded with mostly unemployed people. This means, of course, that the villagers will have to abandon their rural lifestyle: their fields, their horses, their cattle, and, most important, the merino sheep from whose wool they earn a livelihood, after their exciting annual sheep-
shearing competitions. But most painfully, they will have to desert the graves of their forebears. That will be an abomination of the first order. Basotho venerate their ancestors. Ancestors are the intercessors between the living and the Great Creator, Molimo. Imagine what misfortune must befall ungrateful men and women who abandon their ancestors to be drowned in a human-made lake that covers the only home they ever knew! No wonder there is resistance to the forced removal.

That resistance is led by Mantoa, who has lost all her relatives, most recently a son who was expected home for Christmas from the gold mine where he worked but who perished underground with the rest of the miners. Only his corpse arrives home, and we witness a colorful funeral attended by men and women in Basotho blankets, predominantly of a rich blue. Mantoa is concerned about what will happen to the graves if the village is flooded. Politicians tell her, “It’s your call what you do with your graves . . . The ministry will provide assistance to those who choose to move their graves.”

Similar struggles against the negative impacts of large dams, particularly the mass displacement of poor communities and the loss of land, have been waged all over the world. These mammoth constructions are always accompanied by human-rights violations, especially against Indigenous communities, in such far-ranging countries as Brazil, the United States, India, and the Philippines. Mantoa takes a bus to the local administrative center to make an appeal against the dam to a minister, but she is shunned by the bureaucrats there. Her resistance next takes the form of weeping and screaming, to the extent that people from the village come to her home, thinking there has been another death. The village elders decide that she is mad. Mantoa’s resistance is fueled by her wish to be buried in Nasaretha, next to the graves of her kin. She rallies the support of her compatriots, who insist, “We are staying here!”

The village is self-sufficient, though its resources are meager. This is a valley of death, yet it is also a healing valley, where flowers and herbs that cure different ailments grow in abundance. Mantoa yearns to sleep and never wake up again. Yet she continues to help the sick get well with herbs from the mountain and valley, and to engage in life-sustaining activities in communion with the rest of society, winnowing corn and washing clothes in the river even while yearning for death. At one point, she tells the village pastor, “There is no meaning to my husband’s death . . . Yes, that’s grief.” She arranges her own funeral—let the dead bury their own dead, the narrator rejoins—giving instructions on how and when it should be carried out, who should sing Sesotho traditional music there, and what kind of coffin should be used.

She spends her time listening to obituaries on the radio. She warms the batteries of her radio in the sun on the windowsill to prolong their life. It is a telling symbolic act. She shows a flicker of a smile as she waltzes alone in the room, in the arms of an imaginary lover. The narrator admonishes her: “Lament, old widow. Weep. Weep. For death has forgotten you.”

She wears perpetual mourning clothes even as she visits neighbors, giving them life by helping those who are sick; she spends the late afternoons preparing the site at the graveyard for her own grave. When the villagers refuse to dig her grave, she digs it herself.

But for now, we leave her there, digging. We go back to what we started with: how exquisitely this movie has been made, and how effectively it transmits the meaning in a simple story by defying a lot of established conventions of contemporary cinema.

First of all, Lesotho cineaste Mosese—who wrote, directed, and edited the film—gives a unique kind of narration to the poetic and musical narrator, drawing very much from such Sesotho performance modes as tšomo (written in South African Sesotho orthography as tshomo), a classical oral tradition that is still in use, especially among families in rural Lesotho. The expository nature of tšomo lends itself excellently to the filmmaker’s style. He confirmed in an interview on South Africa’s Radio 702 that he sees his film as “almost a folklore narrative.”

This is truly a Lesotho movie, not only because of its setting and the fact that it was created by a Lesotho artist—born and raised in Hlotse, Lesotho, Mosese now lives and works in Berlin—who is drawing from a deeply Sesotho aesthetic. Almost all the actors—including Makhaola Ndebele, who plays the pastor; Mofokeng Wa Makhetha, whom I have already mentioned, as the narrator and player of the lesiba lamentations; and Silas Taunyane Monyatsi, the bureaucrat and politician—have Lesotho roots. This may come as a surprise to followers of the South African film and television industry, as these are familiar faces there. Of the principal cast, only the South African Twala Mhlongo is an import.

The most important convention that Mosese defies here, a choice that could have endangered the reception of his film if he had failed to handle it with panache, is that of beginning one’s film in medias res. The modern reader and viewer expects exciting action from the word go. Yet this movie starts languidly and depends not only on the lesiba and narration but also on an emotional ambience that foreshadows the texture and the tenor of the story. It is fortunate for the director that he was not dependent on South African funders; they would likely have insisted that the first thirty minutes of This Is Not a Burial be chopped off, to accord with the only formula of storytelling they know—which they often refer to as the tried-and-tested Hollywood formula. These film-development mandarins would have been riled up: “What’s exposition doing in this screenplay?”

It would have been a sad loss. It would have messed up this work of art.

Mosese also compellingly uses lingering, evocative shots of darker moments that are dependent on stillness rather than motion for their effect. These work perfectly for Twala Mhlongo’s tour-de-force performance, for her face with its graceful ravines of age, and for her whole persuasive demeanor. Long takes sometimes catch her stillness, her body imprisoned by loneliness, her face a study of pain. Quite often, the film is reminiscent of slow cinema such as that made by Theo Angelopoulos, a genre that emphasizes long, contemplative takes.

The cinematography of This Is Not a Burial is breathtaking—panoramic shots of the mountains, the mist that sometimes covers them, horses and their blanketed riders, and musicians playing another instrument of Sesotho traditional music, the accordion. The film’s long takes and uninterrupted tracking shots not only give the audience a sense of place but also convey feeling.

This movie is a fitting swan song for Twala Mhlongo, who died while it was on the festival circuit, and after its release in South Africa. Though This Is Not a Burial is about the power of grief, it is uplifting and satisfying. It is subtly about resilience. The director approaches his subject with so much compassion. Remember: the title proclaims that the film is about resurrection.

Mosese is an aspiring painter. He has also achieved painterliness through the camera. Each shot can be harvested for a still of utmost beauty. Gentle beauty against the grittiness of the story. Two hours of relentless beauty. This is not just a movie, it’s a narrative art installation.

Zakes Mda is a visiting professor in the English department of the Johannesburg Institute for Advanced Study, University of Johannesburg; a creative-writing adjunct at Johns Hopkins University; and an emeritus professor of English at Ohio University.

[smokeybrandreviews]

Viy Viy Viy

It'd been a clean minute since i updated on my FGO account growth and for good reason: I got locked out again! Fortunately, your boy learns lessons and i made sure to keep track of all the sh*t they said i didn't, last time. I've come far enough, and spent enough of my actual dollars, for this sh*t to hurt if i lost my account again, so i stay prepared with that recovery info. Servant Name, Birth date, what device you play on (this is the bit they got frothy about), User ID, Gender, Current Level, Favorite Servant, Current Party, and the last Transfer Code you used. It was super weird, though, because, even after i filled out that retrieval form, cats over yonder at Recovery were trying to say i still f*cked up for playing on an emulator. Like, bro, what? You telling me that i can lose my account permanently, for playing on my big ass laptop screen instead of my big-ass-for-a-phone screen? That sh*t is dumb. Just let us tie our accounts to something like every other competing mobile game, goddamn! Like, seriously, how have you, as a mobile game, been around for nearly a decade, and still don't have that option? Quality of life frustrations aside, I've come pretty goddamn far on part deux, even farther than the first account.

Right now, as we speak, my Master level ticked up to 124. I can't remember what i was on the first account, but I'm pretty sure i was around there when i lost it so, in terms of grind, I'm back to where i was, in roughly a third of the time. I am okay with that. I've powered through the story, cracking Avalon Le Fae literally the other day. The Lostbelts have turned out to be pretty f*cking solid, considering how hit-and-miss the Singularity stories were. Like, I'm not mad, those were fun, especially the last three, but you can tell me you wouldn't want to see an Olympus (and, yes, i am including Atlantis in that) adaption over a Babylon one, any day of the week. I could be bias in that regard, though. Ancient Greek mythology is my sh*t and A LOT of those Greek gods were dope as f*ck. I had a particularly good time with that Zeus fight. Sh*t was mad fun and i loved that interpretation so much. I, for sure, thought these things were going to suck because Anastasia was kind of bunk, but color me surprised as those plots got better as the Lostbelts progressed. I still have a few narratives to go to catch up, The straight up epic of Avalon and that Epilogue, Plus all the Free Quests i haven't done, but that grind has been good for my Roster. And let me tell you, i am okay with the Servants i have summoned.

Yo, i finally popped Anastasia! Netting the last Romanov is what made this account so hard to part with. I've been chasing her icy ghost for years, man. She's been my favorite Caster and top ten all-time Servant, since she was introduced all those years ago. Now, finally, FINALLY, she's mine! Obviously, i immediately maxed her out in terms of level. That is one of the perks of all this story grind, actually. I'm lousy with Hellfire of Wisdoms. Chucking a few dozen at my favorite Caster is nothing. Kind of in the same way i Grail'd up and maxed out Gray. Well, level ninety max, anyway. I was able to unlock everything i needed to perfectly level El-Melloi's assistant during her Rerun event and that effort has paid off considerably. She is a solid f*cking Assassin. Don't misunderstand, it's King Hassan, all day over here, but I'd be lying if i said Gray has left my Party since i solved that last case. Along the way, I've thrown a few Saint Quarts at a couple of Banners and popped me an Archer Ishtar, Lakshmibai, Parvati, Assassin Okita, and both versions of Ibaraki. I even stumbled across a Saber Arturia, which is hilarious because that sh*t eluded me for years on my first account. Sh*t was, like, the fifth, naturally rolled, Five star i got. Unfortunately, Saber Arturia is trash. I'm also missing my Gorgon and Demon Nobunaga really hard lately. They were two of my favorite Servants on the old account. It's a frustration but, overall, a mild one, I don't hit the Banners as hard as i used to so i have a pretty solid war chest of quarts. To be honest, i actually rolled a ton more Four Stars a long the way, but i burned them all for Rare Prisms. My first account was kind of a "Collect them all" situation but i learned that sh*t is unnecessary. "Collect what you want" is the name of the game now and i wanted to be a beast. I am WELL on my way to making that happen.

I can officially say, i am half a Bond level away from leveling Mordred to that perfect ten. Once that happens, I'll have all but matched where she was on my first account. I say "all but" because I'm still two Noble Phantasm levels short of where she was, and three from being maxed out. That sh*t is a bummer because I'm pretty much at the mercy of the Gacha gods for that one but everything else? Yeah, I'm pouring resources into favourite regicide artist. I was able to grail her and level her up to one hundred a while back but, since we are substantially past where i was cut to ff the last time i played, we can keep that level grind going all the way to one hundred and twenty! Guess who is working on one hundred and one right now? I actually looked into what it's going to take to get Mo to the next level cap and it' f*cking egregious. I got a ways to go, my guy. Fortunately, i as able to max out all of her skills, unlock an append and max that out out, as well as program Command Codes to all of her Command Cards, most of which were Five stars. Again, Mordred needs to be a powerhouse. I'm satisfied with my progress o far but I'd be lying if i said i didn't miss my old account. This new one is coming along nicely but, looking back at what was, i still have a long way to go. Oh! Almost forgot, i also unlocked Mordred's Memories of Trifas costume. Because of course I did. Who the f*ck do you think i am?

[whumpster-fire]

1-3: fuck if we know. Maybe powers of 2 were easier to work with in ye olden dayes before electronic calculators? In any case, fractional inch measurements usually go down to around 1/64". Possibly 1/128" as well but I'm not sure who uses that. I do know that I've purchased 3/32" thick plywood and possibly 1/32" at some point, and I've seen 1/64" thick sheets for sale.

However our system is simultaneously not as stupid and far more stupid than you think, because we do have decimal inches as well and these are used pretty commonly in engineering/manufacturing. E.g. something might be measured to the nearest thousandth of an inch, or "thou." Sometimes even 0.0001" for extremely precise stuff.

It gets worse: we also have decimal feet (which of course do not neatly convert to inches), used in... I think a lot of construction-adjacent stuff like architecture and civil engineering?

5-7: the tablespoon is 3x bigger than the teaspoon so this isn't one of our stupid "binches" units but that joke has a grain of truth to it because we have a LOT of stupid industry-specific units, such as nautical miles (which in all fairness are a more sensible unit than regular miles because they're supposed to correspond to a minute of latitude), and also Troy ounces and pounds used by the precious metals industry.

("grain of truth" is a bad pun: a grain is a very small unit of mass used for weighing gunpowder and bullets, and also used to be used in medicine)

10: Pound as a unit of weight is what came first. The unit of currency "Pound Sterling" was originally supposed to be the value of a pound of silver - first pure silver, then the alloy called Sterling Silver used for coinage, but it obviously isn't worth a pound of silver now, and there have been numerous competing standards for what a pound weighs throughout history.

11-12: A gallon is 128 fluid ounces, or four quarts, or eight pints, or 16 cups, with a cup equaling 8 fl. oz, as well as 16 tablespoons, so one tablespoon is half a fluid ounce. This is nominally based on the density of water, where one fluid ounce is a volume such that one fluid ounce of water weighs one ounce, a pint of water-density liquid weighs a pound, and a gallon weighs 8 lbs. As a result, 1 gallon in US units is 231 cubic inches, which is a fucking horrendous number.

Things about the metric system that confuse me

Why are there 16 parts to an inch. Like yeah it's divisible by 4 but decimals and percentages on a system based on 100 are so much easier to calculate than fractions.

What are those little sixteenths called

Why don't you have millimeters. What happens if you need to measure something smaller than 1/16th of an inch. Why is your smallest area measurement the length of my fucking thumb

BECAUSE of your dumb inches and sixteenth and fractions, nothing else makes any fucking sense to remember. What's an inch? 16 little notches. What's a foot? 12 inches. What's a mile? 5,280. How the FUCK does anyone remember that. You know what's easy to remember? 10 millimeters are 1 centimeter. Do you know what centimeter means? 1/100th of a meter. You know how many of them are in a meter? 100. Easy shit

Okay this one is at Imperial but whose tablespoon is a tablespoon based off. Why are tablespoons and teaspoons both distinct measurements, they're fucking spoons. They're almost the fucking same. Like if you had "inches" and "binches" and binches were for no reason at all 1/42nd smaller and you only used them for measuring sawdust. Fuck completely off

Okay actually still looking at Imperial and speaking of Teaspoons and Tablespoons, the names don't indicate anything. How would ANYONE simply deduce by name which is bigger or smaller. Why would a spoon for food be bigger than a spoon for a drink. They both gotta fit in your fucking mouth don't they

Did we all standardize our fucking spoon volumes before we standardized our math? And CUPS? Who in the cholera factory was using scientific standard measurements to quality control your cutlery for any of this to be at all reliable for anyone following recipes

Alright back to you Metric WHAT DOES OUNCE MEAN AND WHY IS IT ABBREVIATED AS OZ

WHY IS POUND ABBREVIATED AS LB FOR LIBRA LIKE SCALES LIKE A CRYPTIC ASS ILLUMINATI SECRET MESSAGE WHEN "P" IS PERFECTLY AVAILABLE. YALL AINT PAYING MONEY IN POUNDS AND PENCE SO WHATS THE CONFUSION

Okay also why the hell would the British using Pounds to mean money run away to make America and start using Pounds to mean weight instead. Do I weigh a hundred dollars? Does Chadley at the gym bench press a thousand cents? I hate you

What is a gallon for. What does it mean. You know what's easy to convert to milliliters? Liters. What the hell is an ounce to a gallon

On top of that, what's your measurement transference? We have grams for weight, liters for liquid, meters for distance, and they're all like 1:100:1000 and shit. What do you DO to like. Show how many square inches of mass a gallon has or whatever

Oh shit I ain't even got into Fahrenheit yet

Actually fuck all of us, the end