#'inconsistent' ???? inconsiderate. hello

[moe-broey]

Random small talk event at the yard sard set-up, very nice lady, but ESP when asking "Oh are you still in school? ☺️" I literally never know how to say "Oh I graduated a long time ago. Yeah. I mostly do art now" and she says "Oh to sell?" and so far I'm having a reasonable and effective small talk conversation, when I hit that pitfall and lock up and I worry I'm becoming unfriendly bc I locked up. Because I REALLY don't know how to say, "Nah, I kind of do fuck all. I'm 25 and I do fuck all. For nothing." Like I can see the conversation tree in real time and I know that's the worst dialogue option. And there are no other dialogue options there's just Press B to get the fuck outta there!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'M SORRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[snifflesthemouse]

The Crown made Diana seem... awful and crazy.

Hello, to all you beautiful people!

This author hopes all is well with each of you! After two solid months of illness after illness, I am back for a new post. Slowly, I inch back into the habits and hobbies I enjoyed pre-illness. There are two things I want to discuss; I should really write out two different posts and include a story of the last time I spoke with my mother before she died when I was on the run back in the old days. But, this author would like to remind you of the ‘taking it slowly’ part.

Therefore, I will say this briefly before I move onto my main topic. Knowing now that Her Majesty the Queen had cancer the last few years of her life, yet Harry did NOTHING to take advantage of that time… well… let me just say. One day he will wake up, and it will be a miracle if the guilt from all his decisions doesn’t crush him whole.

With that, I now would like to discuss the fifth season of The Crown. I’ve watched all five seasons of The Crown, and I have never found the show to be insulting to the Monarch. If anything, I find the show makes it look like Her Majesty had a short stick and the people around her didn’t make it any easier. Diana especially. Before Diana, it was either her sister, her husband, or possibly even her heir.

The fifth season essentially suggests that Diana was too stupid and paranoid to listen to her brother when he called out the inconsistencies from Bashir. There is a literal scene where Diana calls Martin out on all of his inconsistences (re her brother’s appeals and begging her to not go through with it). She has him in the car and she tells him of how her brother had been keeping notes from all the conversations, that he was caught up in many a lie. And yet she was so paranoid, she couldn’t see the reason for the mania. (I’ve been there, not judging, but it is what it is).

The whole entire show makes it look like Peter Morgan is in love with Her Majesty, but everyone else is too selfish and inconsiderate to try and make things easier for the Queen. I’ve never been one of those who saw the show as a bad thing, as long as the person being portrayed was the Queen. But this fifth season explicitly left someone out, which I found odd.

REMEMBER, the show is utter fiction. My fellow AMERICANS, The Crown is a work of FICTION. It is loosly based on factual events, and that is being a bit too generous.

The show also highlighted the Romanovs, and it showed the introduction of Penny to Prince Philip's life. I do wish they'd not make the Queen seem so hysterical with the emotional side of their marriage. They either make her seem superficial, or like she is so good at looking the other way it hurts Prince Philip that she doesn't even try to catch a peek. Like Philip was so unfulfilled he needed the Queen to complete him. Puh-lease. Those two were each other's rock. And they did what they needed to make it work. None of our business how that happened, now is it?

If I were Netflix, and I had an ex-royal, especially the second son of Diana, Princess of Wales on the payroll, wouldn’t it make the most sense to remind people at every opportunity that I had the Spare on the payroll? I mean, the whole point is to remind people of the upcoming content, not the stuff they already put out, right?

So why is it that little Harry didn’t have more than a hand full of lines the whole fifth season, yet William is a breakout role? Diana’s character even says that “all the love the people have for me has transferred to William,” after the interview fight. It was horrific the way they portrayed Diana.

Diana came off as a manipulative woman who knew she was being used and used it to her advantage daily. Even when they cover the divorce, they have a scene where she’s asked to be silent post divorce. She tells the Mediator character essentially that her silence would cost eight figures and start with a three. She hangs out at a hospital and love bombs sick patients just to attract the attention of the Khan (who did surgery on her acupuncturist’s spouse). She uses her children to sow unrest and win favor with the Queen.

Even one scene shows William and the Queen having tea, and the Queen reminding William that he is a child and shouldn’t be worrying about his mother. Then, she eventually has William with her when Diana goes to give her a small warning about the interview coming out with Bashir. Every time you see how Diana used William as a pawn with the Queen. Like she knew the Queen would see her using him, feel empathy for him, and show her favor. And it worked. It legit worked. If this is who Netflix is painting the Diana, Princess of Netflix to be, how can Harry even look himself in the eyes in the morning? I suppose with a LOT of exterior assistance.

And that reward is a threat, btw. I imagine that will be his official straw. Either that or King Charles III has already offered him a deal, and this is his way out. I.E. Old poppa will take me back now if I get rid of her… Harry was/is an addict. He needs frequent dopamine releases to stay interested. She is running out of interesting things, I am almost sure.

If Charles is waiting for the book re the titles, he shouldn’t. I keep checking often to see any changes, and there have been multiple updates to different biographies. Yet the succession withholds all titles for both of the kids. It says a lot. But then again, does it?

The Prince of Wales website still has Charles and Camilla on it as the Prince of Wales and Duchess of Cornwall. Netflix managed to come across very fair regarding Camilla and Charles. I am telling you, it seemed quite literal and quite personal. Like Netflix was getting revenge. But who am I? It was like they were sticking it to them both. They know Americans won't fact check, and they essentially made Prince Harry's childhood irrelevant in one of their biggest shows. Then, they painted William as the kid who had to parent his parents. How they continue to work with Netflix... wow. Just wow.

IT’S BEEN TOO LONG! Writing again soon, sending love! #royals #thecrown #princeharry

[fellowstrangetownappreciator]

Curious and autistic-coded

Hello there! April draws to an end and with that I think it’s high time to hurry up and write this. What does April have to do with anything, you ask? April is the Autism Acceptance Month. So what better month to do this?

Unfortunately I didn’t make it. I failed. It’s already 1. 5. when I’m posting this. But at least I tried to deliver on time.

In this mini essay I’ll present my case about why I think the Curious brothers from TS2 Strangetown display autistic-coded traits and my personal takes on it.

It’s basically your average headcanon post but with a funny top hat!

0: Preface: What do I mean by “autistic-coded”?

When a character is coded as something, it means that they have traits that are associated with the demographics in question to make the consumer knowingly or not link the character with the demographic, although the character's "label” is never explicitly disclosed.

In the nutshell, it means that there are canonical reasons to read the characters as autistic, although you won't find the word "autism" anywhere in the game nor in the developer's commentary.

In this particular case I do believe that the developer may not even be aware of the code, as there is no evidence to suggest otherwise. If there is, I’m not aware of it and I would be happy to learn.

So, let’s start!

1: “The white male who is very good at science”

Unfortunately autistic representation in pop-culture has a long history of being rather straightforward in which traits the characters often have. This stems from the belief that autism is “a boy’s disorder” (that’s why some autism charities to this day use blue in their symbols). Among popular examples of autistic-coded characters are Big Bang Theory’s Sheldon Cooper and Death Note’s L and Near. I’m sure you can think of more but you’ll find that most of them are men and either explicitly white or racially ambiguous white-passing. They also tend to be gifted in tech, logic or other science-y activities.

There’s nothing wrong with that! Nothing wrong with being an autistic with those “stereotypical” characteristics and there is nothing wrong with people being represented. What is wrong is the monotony and afab people/people of color being underrepresented which leads (among other factors) to harder access to diagnosis and resources for those people in real life. But! That’s a topic for a different day. (and not for a simbrl, mind you)

Back to the Curiouses! I just wanted to say that autism in media is traditionally associated with characters whose gender presentation, race and interests align with theirs. Those characteristic thus make a very convenient template for autistic-coding.

2: Inconsistent performance, huge gaps between strengths and weaknesses

Pascal, Vidcund and Lazlo are very skilled Sims by default, extraordinarily even for their age. Pascal has a skill maxed while his younger brothers both near maxing theirs.

But as you can see in Pascal’s default skill panel, apart from Creativity, all his other skills are extremely low, 0 points for Mechanical, Body and Charisma, 1 point for Cooking and Logic and his second best skill, Cleaning, has only 3 points. The same situation can be observed in Vidcund’s and Lazlo’s, except their strong suits are Logic and Cooking respectively.

Huge discrepancies within performance in different cognitive areas is a common trait found in those on the autism spectrum. We’re often talking extremes here and the scale of the difference is the defining factor. Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses, it’s just in neurodivergent people those tend to be unusually noticeable.

I think that skills, simplified as they are, are the closest The Sims has to possibly simulate that because they track the character’s performance and expertise in different areas and allow comparison. In real life, of course, this comparison is not nearly as possible and exact, nor desired, but for all our analysis-loving enthusiasm, here we’re still talking fictional characters.

3: Struggle with social cues

It is widely known that one of autistic traits are difficulties with processing social situations, picking social cues and successfully replicating socially desired behavioral patterns.

But these three are Sims, are they not? They cannot possibly display this trait, since they’re programmed the same way as others.

Yes and no.

It is true that there is no specific in-game feature that would allow Sims to behave with explicit neurodivergency in mind* but with the right combination of traits they can simulate behavior that really hits close to home for neurodivergent players.

*at least not in TS2, TS3 has traits that simulate some possible neurodivergencies but their names tend to be rather... ableist unfortunate and they’re not relevant to this post since they’re not autism related, and even if they were, we’re focusing on TS2 exclusively

Let’s take look at Lazlo here. He is, indeed, a playful soul. He likes to goof around, tell jokes, make others laugh. And since he’s very close to his brother Vidcund, close enough even to Tell Dirty Joke (an interaction that needs quite a high relationship to unlock), he autonomously does just that.

And oh boy, does Vidcund disapprove.

From my personal experience playing them, their relationship usually takes quite a hit from every cheeky joke Lazlo throws Vid’s way. They usually autonomously repair it very quick but it happens often.

But that’s a standard behavior. Vidcund’s very serious, he doesn’t take well to jokes.

No. I mean technically yes, Vid is definitely a grumpy old plant dad but, at least in my game, he tends to accept Lazlo’s jokes. All kinds of them, actually, except for the dirty ones. And Pascal, who technically has even lower Playful points (0 in comparison to Vidcund’s 4), doesn’t seem to mind Lazlo’s poor attempts at grown-up humor.

But! What is it that makes Lazlo try still? What drives him to attempt to make Vidcund laugh with a dirty joke over and over again? (and fail?)

I my interpretation, Lazlo doesn’t do that on purpose, he is just really poor at evaluating “dirtiness” of a given joke and frequently misinterprets Vidcund’s cues. The animation of a dirty joke being rejected even supports that as Vid doesn’t signal his discomfort with any exaggerated easy-to-read facial expression until Lazlo gets to his punchline.

No only that but as I mentioned, the invisible lines between spicy and too vulgar are often hard to thread. I can recall many times I thought I was saying a witty quip on an “adult” topic and was met with awkward silence or someone shushing me because “that’s not how you speak in public”. I can well imagine myself in Lazlo’s shoes.

A situation of social cues being misinterpreted or ignored can be observed also in Vidcund. Programming-wise, those are just his low Niceness and extreme Shyness showing but combined they again paint a picture of a very neurodivergent-looking behavioral pattern.

He often behaves like the concept of politeness or social rules doesn’t exist because the combination of the aforementioned traits makes him come off very blunt (lecturing and shoving telescope-peepers with no warning whatsoever) and distant (having a high chance of rejecting simple small-talk socials).

(That’s Jasmine Rai casting the “Summon Vidcund” spell.)

Yes, I am fully aware that it makes a stronger case for him being an a**hole than autistic but... there’s no reason he can’t be both. Not all autistic people are sweet cinnamon buns, all personalities you can think of can be neurodiverse and, for some their neurodiversity can even amplify their inconsiderate ways, as I believe it is the case with our dear grouch Vidcund.

4. Their bios

“No matter what happens, Pascal believes there is a logical explanation for everything. In his free time, he practices home psychoanalysis and collects conspiracy theories.”

(that’s how I imagine practicing psychoanalysis looks like, sorry Freud)

“Serious and exact, Vidcund strives to fit the universe into a nice tidy package. He has an unnatural fondness for African violets.”

(let’s collectively pretend those are African violets)

“Not as studious as his older brothers, Lazlo got his degree in Phrenology. He likes to call phone psychics and spends hours trying to bend forks with his mind.”

*error: screenshot of Lazlo bending forks not found*

(but here he is hanging out with Erin Beaker, the closest thing to “calling phone psychics” you can actually do in-game)

Both Pascal’s and Vidcund’s bios point to a pattern-focused worldview with a strong emphasis on rationality as the center-point that anchors the way they understand the world around them and build their principles on. This “pattern-ization” of thinking is a common autistic trait, with rationality being a popular theme because emotions tend to be difficult to access and asses for many of us.

Lazlo’s biography is an outlier. But it still has something significant in common with those of his brothers: All three of their bios allude to a potential special interest of sorts.

Special interests as an autism-related term are very specific, in-depth and long-term hobbies or areas of expertise that make an autistic person happy and they tend to go to seemingly exhausting lengths, often at the cost of other areas of knowledge and most likely the person’s ability to talk about anything else for a long enough time. (a loving hyperbole, no disrespect meant) Mine are my characters and cats. An even more intense but a short(er)-term passion is called a hyperfixation.

Them potentially having a special interest is yet another possible autistic-coded feature.

5. Wait. Why does it matter?

Right. What does it matter if a Sim (A SIM) (or two or three) is autistic? What do I hope to achieve, pushing my autistic Curiouses agenda down your throats?

I got to write a long rant-piece about some of my favorite TS characters and I feel like I can finally die satisfied.

Apart from that and me sharing my happiness of finding some good pixels I can relate to, it is a matter of representation.

Remember by the very beginning I wrote how most of the representation our community gets in media tends to be just a one specific type of character?

And how the Curious brothers seem to fit the stereotype to a point?

There is something I omitted, something I saved for the last on purpose.

The role. The role in their story, the role in the society the piece of media portrays.

We often see neurodiverse, autistic or autistic-coded character as children, students, villains, lone savants, victims in distress, comedic relief sidekicks, either very vulnerable and needing protection, or detached and having their role defined only by their academic prowess or their special interest/profession.

What we rarely get to see them as, are... parents.

That’s what many of us autistics are or plan to be someday in the future. The dogma around autism has started to dwindle relatively recently and there are little to no examples of autistic adults being the care-givers for once in the media around us.

The Curious brothers are just that. They are chaotic, they are eccentric, they can be a little too much... but they are dutiful and loving fathers/uncles to their little aliens they raise.

They make it work. Even if they face difficulties, even if they don’t exactly fit the standard.

“Sometimes, a family truly can be three brothers raising alien babies, and it’s beautiful.”

It encourages us to define family by love rather than traditional structures and it shows us that portrait of a functional neurodiverse family we need to see.

And goodness, is it a powerful sight.

[mafaldaknows]

But you’ve never come down this hard on anyone calling him a twink or those who post the manips you don’t agree with. Also the origin of fuckboy is avve and has nothing to do with fucking at all. The meaning white people gave it is wrong and inconsistent so it seems strange to be so sure about how the anon meant to use it or how we understood it.

Hello Anon:

I have no reason to come down hard on the word “twink” since it’s not a slur, or the amazingly gifted manip creators who are so good at what they do that sometimes I feel like a voyeur peeping through a window.

The manip privacy thing is my own personal issue to handle, and I don’t ever want any single one of these talented artists to think that I don’t admire and appreciate them and their incredible work, because I absolutely do.

I learned the history and origins of the word this morning in my research, so I also don’t understand why that is where this discussion went, Anon. Except that it provided a convenient opportunity by which antis could attack Charmies, logic and reason notwithstanding.

This all started from me saying that it was inconsiderate of Timmy’s feelings to be called a fuckboy by total strangers in any sense of the word, since all the forms and variations of it are intended to be insulting. The original post used it in the sexual context.

It’s been a very weird day, Anon.

Thanks for your comment. 😊❤️🧿

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

Hi! I love your posts and this blog! I want to ask you about the Karvachauth episode. Did you like it? I thought Arnav was a little inconsiderate of Khushi. Teasing her with food, asking her not to fast and implying again and again that fasting doesn’t do anything even if it mattered a lot To her! Is he the same person who was doing all the remaining rituals because those mattered to khushi. He didn’t even ask lavanya not to fast during teej. What do you think? Thank you!

Hello Anon!

Thank you for the love 🤗

I do think they were pushing the Arnav’s death track and were trying to signal that in the Karvachauth episode. Hence they showed Arnav really not believing in this even though he’s shown to be respectful of other’s fasts and religious beliefs consistently in the show.

Also at this time both Arnav and Khushi were being incredibly inconsistent with their characters. Khushi was incredibly infantilized and Arnav was shown a bit insensitive.

Probably Arnav’s disbelief is something they’d show through flashbacks as he kept on saying that a fast can’t keep one alive (which is kinda valid but it was also shown a bit insensitively).

This is the same Arnav who fasts with his Di during Raksha Bandhan so it’s natural we all felt like hmm… what’s happening here?

I found the whole Khushi gorging on food, criticizing Arnav and just bickering with him while doing a fast for him to be extremely off character as well. Especially when she chides him to be sleeping at 4am when all the women are preparing sargi.

Ideally based on the characters they set:

1) Khushi wouldn’t be that infantilized in the first place.

2) Arnav wouldn’t tease her to that extent.

3) Arnav might’ve arranged a semi vrat for himself because she’s keeping a fast and Khushi would shorten her fasts knowing he’s fasting as well.

But if we take everything in we can say that Arnav didn’t know Khushi was that emotional about keeping the fast and the minute he realized, he quickly apologized and cheered her up. The full scene Khushi explaining her views, Arnav apologizing, them dancing, her explaining that it’s just a belief and him accepting that - all of that was incredibly consistent to what Arnav and Khushi are in general.

Thanks for the love again,

- JWB

[memyselfandwe00001]

Say it with Flowers (1/?) ~by memyselfandwe09

~Beta’d by the brilliant @tenroseforeverandever​ ~Artwork by Mudheart7567

Fandom: Doctor Who *but it’s an AU, so it can be read by whomever*

Rating: M 

Ship(s): Twelve x Rose, Jack x Ianto 

Characters: Twelfth Doctor (Human), Rose Tyler, Ianto Jones, Bill Potts, Jack Harkness, Wilfred “Wilf” Mott, Donna Noble, Jackie Tyler

~~Based on the prompt; Person A owns a flower shop and person B comes storming in one day, slaps twenty bucks on the counter and says “How do I passive aggressively say ‘fuck you’ in a flower?”~~

Summary: Rose Tyler had just moved into her new London flat. It was everything she ever wanted, with one major drawback; the madman living upstairs. Can she put up with his antics as he endlessly torments her, or will she be forced to move.

Tags: Flower shop AU, Humor, Neighbors, Eventual romance, Slow burn, Enemies to Lovers, Older man/Younger woman, my first Twelve x Rose fic, I was tricked into this, I tried giving the prompt away but it was given back to me.

AO3 / FF 

Chap 1 / Chap 2                       

A cascade of ice-cold water washed over Rose Tyler’s head, interrupting what was supposed to be a serene morning of drinking tea on her new patio.

Leaping to her feet, she shrieked and looked up to see where the water was coming from. An arrangement of plants and flowers hung down from the balcony above, dripping from recently being watered.

“Hello,” she called out, trying to keep her voice pleasant despite her growing irritation. When nobody came she yelled out louder, “Hey!”

A man came strutting out, bracing his hands on the banister as he peered down with angry eyebrows. “What is it?” he bit out irritably in a thick Scottish accent. He paused to take in her appearance as she shivered from the cold. “You know, you shouldn’t be standing out there all wet.”

“I wasn’t wet a minute ago,” she hollered. “I was sitting out here having my tea when you decided to surprise me with an arctic shower.”

“Well you shouldn’t be sitting right under where I do my morning watering, now should you?!”

Rose stared at him perplexed. “How the hell should I know your watering schedule? Besides, this is my patio and I would appreciate it if you would refrain from doing that over my head.”

“Oh!” His eyebrows raised as his voice turned condescending, “Well I’m sorry, princess, I didn’t know I had bloody royalty living below me.”

“Wait. What?” Rose stammered, unsure how to respond.

“Look, these plants,” he indicated the plants hanging above her, “are up here on my balcony. I can’t help it if they might drip a little. Do you come out and yell at the fuckin’ clouds every time it rains too?”

“Of course not,” she uttered in surprise at the audacity he had, turning this around on her.

He pointed toward her door. “Why don’t you go dry off, and drink your tea inside like the rest of us peasants?” With that, he turned away and went back inside, slamming his door shut in the process.

Rose could only stand there, staring at his empty balcony in shock. She thought once she’d left the Estate she’d be done dealing with people so incredibly rude and inconsiderate. Apparently she was wrong. This man living above her made some of her more boorish neighbors in the past seem gracious.

A cool breeze blew through, causing her to shiver again, and she headed back inside. She peeled off her sopping wet clothes, cursing under her breath as she made her way toward the bedroom.

After putting on some dry clothes, she headed back to the living room and decided to put this morning’s fiasco behind her for now. This was only her second day in her new flat and she had a lot of unpacking to do.

Her mum had told her she was being pretentious and didn’t think she needed two bedrooms, but Rose didn’t see it that way. She was making more than enough for rent and after all her hard work, why shouldn’t she reward herself?

Honestly, there had been very little her mum could have said to talk her out of it. The minute she stepped inside, she had known she wanted to live here. The flat featured a bright open kitchen and living area, with breakfast nook and hardwood floors. The master bedroom was very spacious as well, complete with an impressive en-suite.  

Then there was the patio. Being on the first floor meant Rose had a private outdoor space all her own. Of all the amenities this flat had to offer, this feature excited her the most.

The flat was everything she could have dreamed of, with only one drawback: the madman she had just learned was living upstairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Soon after the water fiasco came the clippings that littered her patio whenever he trimmed his plants. The first time she’d let it slide, hoping it was a simple mistake, but the second time it happened. she went up to his flat and approached him about it. That interaction had gone worse than the first one, much louder too, and ending with a door being slammed in her face.

It was basically a downward spiral for the next month after that, but of all the irritating habits her upstairs neighbor subjected her to, nothing bothered her more than the one she was experiencing now: his pacing. Not just normal pacing, but quick, inconsistent footsteps erupting from the ceiling above her.

She did her best to ignore it, she really did, but after lying in bed listening to it for over an hour, the pacing only became more erratic. Looking at the time, she saw it was reaching midnight. She needed to get some sleep, so she did what they always did in the Estate when they had a similar problem; she grabbed a broom and rapped the ceiling at the source of the pacing.

His response came in a series of loud stomps of his foot in the same spot. Seconds later the pacing resumed. Rose waited a moment then pounded again, much more aggressively than before because she wanted him to know she wasn’t going to put up with this. The pacing stopped, and for a moment she thought it had worked.  Then she heard the heavy footsteps racing to his balcony.

“Will you stop that incessant banging,” he cried out from above, “I’m trying to think!”

Rose grumbled and stepped out onto her patio and fired back, “Can’t you think a little quieter?”

“Of course I can, but if I do, I won’t be able to hear my thoughts!”

Rose screwed up her face in confusion. “What?”

Grumbling something about whiny kids, he stomped back inside, and the pacing continued. At least it did for about five more minutes, then he came back out and bellowed down to her. “Well, now I lost it! I hope you’re happy!”

Rose rolled over in her bed, mumbling to herself, “I am, actually.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few short hours later, her alarm clock started blaring, and it took every bit of willpower she had to drag herself out of bed. Once she was up, her first stop was the kitchen where she started a kettle, then proceeded to get ready for work

She made her tea and had a seat, fighting exhaustion. It only took a few sips before she realized, if she was going to get through the day, she would need something much stronger than tea.

There was a coffee shop not too far from her flat, making it a very convenient stop for Rose on mornings such as these. It was owned by Donna Noble, a feisty, quick-witted redhead Rose greatly admired.

The front of the shop was often attended to by Donna’s grandfather, Wilf. She never asked Wilf to work for her, he simply insisted by doing it anyway. He wanted to help his granddaughter out anyway he could, and he was glad to be out of the house and away from his daughter, Sylvia’s, nagging.

He soon became a house favorite, with an unusual talent for memorizing the names and drink orders of all their regular customers. Another valuable aspect Donna gained by letting her grandfather work for her were his scones. He had a family recipe even his daughter didn’t know for some of the most delectable scones anyone had ever tasted.

Rose entered the shop, thankful she’d missed the busy, morning rush and greeted Wilf as she approached the counter.

“Good morning, Rose. Caramel latte for you?”

“Please,” Rose smiled and removed her sunglasses, revealing her tired eyes. “I barely slept a wink last night.”

“Neighbor problems again?” Wilf asked as he rung up her order. This wasn’t the first morning she’d come in feeling exhausted from a long night of dealing with her neighbor.

“When is it not?” She rolled her eyes as she handed him the money then stepped aside to wait for her order.

The chime from the front door sounded and she turned, scowling when she caught sight of her heinous neighbor entering the shop. He seemed to be far more rested than she was. She glared at him as he approached and couldn’t stop herself from commenting, “I didn’t get any sleep last night because of you and your endless pacing.”

“And I lost my train of thought because of you,” he retaliated, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Before you moved in, nobody else complained about my thought process.”

“Because everyone else is afraid to approach you,” Rose pointed out. “Why can’t you be like normal people and play music or something while you think?”

“Why can’t you invest in a pair of earplugs, then we could both be happy?”

Rose gaped at him in shock and felt a storm of vulgarities brewing on her tongue when Wilf touched her arm, snapping her from her vile thoughts. He looked at her pleadingly, silently begging her not to cause a scene. “Here you are Miss Tyler. Don’t let Mr. McGregor’s insolence ruin your day.”

“Thank you, Wilf.” She smiled politely as she took her drink from his hand, then turned back to her neighbor with fury in her eyes.  “We’ll talk about this later, Mr. McGregor,” she warned him.

He rolled back on his heels and grinned cheekily. “I can’t wait, Miss Tyler.”

His elation had her seeing red, and as much as she wanted to let him have it, she really needed to get to work. Cursing under her breath she made a quick exit.   

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Aiden, why must you be so mean to her,” Wilf asked once Rose was out of sight.

Aiden feigned insult. “Mean to her? I simply came in here for a cuppa and she began attacking me.”

Wilf shook his head dismissively and resumed taking Aiden’s order.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two days later, as Rose lay in bed, she heard a strange sound, like something heavy being moved around above her, followed by a scraping noise. She was trying to figure out what that wanker was up to, when a loud buzz pierced her ears, followed by the unmistakable screech of an electric guitar.

Rose leapt out of bed. What the hell?

The ear-piercing wailing continued, filling her flat with the unpleasant noise. She grabbed her dressing gown, put on her slippers, and headed upstairs. It was oddly quiet outside and she didn’t hear the guitar again until she approached his door. She wondered, not for the first time, if the noise bothered anyone else and they were just too afraid to confront him. He was insanely rude to everyone, but she wasn’t about to let him intimidate her too.

She banged on the door loudly until the music stopped, then his heavy footsteps could be heard approaching as he barked out, “What is it now, Miss Tyler?”

The door flung open to reveal him in a pair of denims, a dark t-shirt, and a long black coat. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling self-aware as she stood there in her dressing gown. “How did you know it was me?”

“Lucky guess,” he quipped.

She pointed at the guitar he had slung over his shoulder. “Mr. McGregor, do you have any idea how late it is?”

“You suggested that I play music,” he remarked. “Now you’re complaining about that too?”

“I meant soft music, like on the radio,” she argued. “I didn’t mean for you to go out, buy a guitar, and go all Keith Richards on me.”

“Actually, I didn’t go out and buy it.” He looked down as he cradled the guitar in his hands. “I’ve had it locked away for far too long. I haven’t thought of playing it much until you mentioned it. Thank you.”

“Listen,” Rose pleaded, “it’s nearly midnight and I-.” Her words were cut off as the door closed in her face.

Seconds later the wailing resumed. Rose began pounding on his door again, but her efforts were hopeless.

“Arsehole,” she screamed at the door, giving it a final kick that should have provided her with some level of satisfaction. But, with only thin slippers covering her feet, all it actually gave her was a painful stubbed toe. She limped back down and entered her flat, hearing the continuous wailing resonating from above. She wondered how much worse it could get as she climbed into bed and yanked a pillow over her head and prayed for sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rose wearily dragged her feet about the restaurant kitchen on an unusually busy Wednesday afternoon.

She worked at Torchwood, an up-and-coming London hotspot with all the attributes of a sophisticated restaurant, but with a more relaxed atmosphere and a budget friendly menu.

It was owned by Ianto Jones, a young entrepreneur whom Rose had met while in culinary school. He was a natural in the kitchen with a highly refined palate and a talent for creating remarkable dishes. Being from a wealthy family, he always carried himself with a sort of self-importance, a trait that Rose initially found off-putting, but soon realized was just a product of his upbringing and not how he saw himself.

He was the one who had befriended Rose in the beginning. After being singled out for not only his social status, but also his sexual orientation, he appreciated having a friend like Rose who treated him as an equal.

Together, they were an unlikely pair: a well-off kid who had every luxury growing up, and an estate girl who had had to work harder than anyone to get where she was. Yet they were inexplicably similar in nearly every other way.

After they had finished school, they went their separate ways, he to get his new restaurant underway while Rose took the long path. Over a few years, Rose had worked her way up and continued learning more about her craft as Ianto had gone through his own hardships of making his dream a reality through failed attempts.

Five years later, he’d finally found his stride and once he was fully established he’d tracked down his old friend and proposed she work with him in his restaurant.

At first, she was hesitant, worried that working for her friend could be catastrophic, but then dismissed those thoughts considering he’d always treated her with more respect than she was often used to. Ianto had offered her a very generous salary, and the desire to leave her current job and nightmarish boss also made the idea of working for him very appealing.

That had been nearly a year ago, and today the restaurant was still highly successful, even more so than when she’d first come on board

She was carefully putting the final touches on a couple of dishes before they went out when an enormous yawn escaped her.

“Looks like someone was out late last night,” Ianto jested as he slid into her station.

Rose scowled and nudged him back to give her some space. “I didn’t sleep well s’ all; no reason to make assumptions.”

“Moody too,” he sassed while adjusting his suit jacket. “How come you couldn’t sleep?”

“Because of that tosser living up above me,” Rose growled.

Ianto smirked, “And what did Mr. McGrump do this time?”

Rose chuckled at Ianto’s play on her neighbor’s name. “He decided the middle of the night was a great time to play a two-hour guitar solo. Then when I went up there to tell him to cut it out, he slammed the door in my face. I honestly don’t know how much longer I can put up with him.”

“Do you need me to handle it?” Ianto playfully cracked his knuckles.

“No,” Rose laughed, “I’ve dealt with much worse growing up on the Estate. I just need to go about this differently.”

“Well, the offer still stands.” Ianto danced his fingers along her work station as he left her to prepare for the dinner crowd.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Rose arrived home that evening, she spotted something taped to her door. She eyed it curiously as she approached and found it to be a pair of earplugs. She yanked them off the door mumbling, “Seriously!” and entered her flat.

She only had two things on her mind at that moment: a shower and sleep. After washing the day’s grime off, she slipped on a comfortable set of pyjamas and crawled into bed. Her mattress had never felt so heavenly as she curled under the blankets ready to drift off to sleep.

As if he knew she had just climbed into bed, the wail of his guitar started up again. Rose rubbed her tired eyes and groaned before slipping out of bed. She looked around for her notepad and a pen before she walked out and headed upstairs.

First, she knocked, although she knew he wasn’t going to answer. Once she was certain he was ignoring her, she began writing out her note:

_- Mr. McGregor, __  Although you may find your guitar practice soothing, it’s keeping the rest of us awake. I’m not sure what it is you do, but I have a job to go to every day. Please consider this next time you decide to pollute the air with your racket. The world doesn’t revolve around you.

_She didn’t bother signing it; there was no doubt he would know who it was from. She stuck the note to the door and headed back downstairs to try and sleep. As she walked to her bedroom, she stopped and grabbed the earplugs. She figured it couldn’t hurt to try for one night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She wouldn’t admit that the earplugs helped at all and told herself it was exhaustion that ultimately brought her to sleep that night. Whatever it was, Rose finally felt refreshed when she woke up the next morning.

She puttered about her flat for a bit, knowing she didn’t have to be at work for a few hours. Like every other morning, she headed to the kitchen to start a kettle, frowning when the range wouldn’t start. She tried several more times, but nothing happened.

After taking a few deep breaths to keep from screaming, she grabbed her phone to call her landlord and request it get looked at. After such a good night’s sleep, she refused to let something so trivial ruin her day. Instead, she decided to make the best of it and take a walk to the coffee shop and get one of Wilf’s scones while she was there. 

The coffee shop was slightly more crowded than usual, but like the issue with her range, she refused to let it bother her and waited patiently.

The line crept along slowly and when she approached the counter Wilf greeted her kindly. “Good morning, Rose. The usual?”

Rose nodded. “And can I get a scone too?”

Wilf frowned. “Sorry love, we’re all out. We still have plenty of danishes.”

“Ok,” Rose sighed, “I really had my heart set on one of your scones this morning.”

Wilf rang up her order and as he took her money he glanced over her shoulder uncomfortably. Rose wasn’t sure what that look was about and turned to see her neighbor sitting there, drinking his coffee. On a plate in front of him was a scone.

Rose turned back to Wilf, wide eyed. “Please don’t tell me he got the last scone.”

“Sorry Rose, you know it’s first come, first served,” Wilf explained, handing over her change.

Rose noticed the unease in his eyes and gently touched his hand. “I know Wilf, I’m not angry at you.” But she was angry. It felt as if the universe was against her and her morning’s efforts of trying to remain calm escaped her the moment she saw her neighbor’s face.

When her order was ready, Rose took her items and headed for the door, but couldn’t keep herself from stopping at his table. “First you make it impossible for me to relax on my own patio, next you leave your plant clippings for me to clean up, then you keep me up most nights with your endless racket, and now…,” she pointed down at the scone, “now this?”

He looked down at the table before him. “Am I at your table? You can join me if you’d like.”

“Not the table,” Rose snapped. “The last scone. It’s like you’re doing this to me on purpose?”

Aiden pinched the bridge of his nose and mumbled under his breath before addressing her. “Yes Miss Tyler, I walked all the way here and bought out every last scone just in hopes that you would come in and want to buy one. All to ruin your day.”

“Honestly, I don’t know anymore,” Rose fought to keep her voice level so as not to draw any attention. “With everything else you’ve been doing to make my life miserable, maybe you did.”

His eyes lit up. “Oh, so suddenly the whole world revolves around you?”

Rose’s jaw dropped. He was using her own words against her. Now she was livid. “Are you seriously…”

Aiden leapt to his feet. “Don’t bother!” He stood over her. “I’m tired of hearing it over and over again. It’s exhausting. Why don’t you give it a rest?” He bent down to pick up his scone, and a sly grin spread across his face as he eyed three flowers sitting in a vase on the table. With his opposite hand he reached out and picked the red one. “Next time, if you’re going to say it,” he held the flower up to her, “say it with flowers.”

Speechless, Rose plucked the flower from his fingers.

Looking her directly in the eye, he took a large bite from his scone, chewing it delightedly. “Delicious!” He winked insolently before stepping around her to exit the shop, leaving Rose stunned... as always.

[ecoreader]

Thinking as a technical and social toolkit (Judging Axes, Part II)

I wanted to come back to this topic after the recent discussion with @intp-mbti-nerd, as it deserves further clarification.

Starting with the essential. MBTI holds that our personalities are defined by a preference of two among four axes of functions. These functions are then organized in hierarchical fashion depending on our ease of use. This hierarchy determines our personality type as well as our mastery of the functions at our disposal. Because there are four axes, four functions will not be present in a given stack. As such, some combinations are impossible: one will only ever have one Extraverted Judging function, one Extraverted Perceiving function, one Introverted Judging function, and one Introverted Perceiving function. It is, however, also true that the nature of the functions will not repeat themselves, so we each only have one Thinking function, one Feeling function, one Intuition function and one Sensation function. Them’s the essentials, that which is given.

As we only have one of each function, it follows that they all serve a specific purpose; additionally, in order for us to function in a relatively homogeneous fashion, it stands to reason that there are things shared by certain functions, redundancies that ensure that we aren’t all fundamentally incomprehensible to one another. To look at the Judging axes alone, we have this:

Extraverted Thinking  ⬄ Introverted Feeling

              X                                    X

Introverted Thinking ⬄ Extraverted Feeling

This gives us two sets of redundancies: an introverted function paired with an extraverted one, and a thinking function paired with a feeling function. Because we only have one of each, this suggests that will be similarities between functions of the same type (either thinking or feeling, and either introverted or extraverted). There will thus be modes of being and models of understanding that transcend the introversion/extraversion dichotomy and apply to both of the thinking types or both of the feeling types; likewise, there will be things that are shared by both introverted types, and things that are shared by both extraverted types, be they thinking or feeling.

The Judging functions allow for our proactive interactions with external reality, yes. And our personality type determines our dexterity of use of any given function. However, our personality type does not determine the manner in which the outer world is processed, which is invariable. We gather information, always, through our Extraverted Perception function; this information is then dealt with immediately by the Extraverted Judging function, which determines how we enforce our will and attempt to structure outer reality, and is our outermost defense against the external. Next, the Introverted Judging function takes that which was not, or could not be, immediately processed and dispatched by the Je function and sifts it, breaking it apart to defend us. Finally, that which passes through the Introverted Judging function is assimilated by the Introverted Perception as Truth; the information at this level is used in our fundamental rendering of reality. In this way, the judging functions serve as the defenders of our reality.

That being said, type preference determines how easily one uses a specific segment of this defense mechanism. As such, (to give a stereotypical example) an ISTP would have a generally adequate grasp on engaging with the immediate inflow of information, but a poor handling of the frontline breakdown of reality, particularly in regards to effectively dealing with other people. However, the robust nature of an ISTP’s thinking function (combined with the broad scope understanding of the immediate granted by auxiliary Extraverted Sensation) would still allow for effective, efficient, and logical action in the immediate, just with none of the smoothness of a well-developed Je function. As such, the action might suit deal very well with the immediate problem and resolve it in the most effective and absolute fashion possible, but it would probably not synchronize well with any general strategies or presentation. This leads to the ISTP appearing inconsistent or inconsiderate, or needlessly brutal: there isn’t time for their Ti to solve both the immediate problem and harmonize with their general intentions and strategies, and Ti, when pressed into immediate action, only excels at the former.

The extraverted judging function deals in consistency of action, while the introverted judging function deals with depth of action. This is why (again, to deal in clichés) high-Te users are viewed as excellent strategists (well, that and the fact that their lower Pe function means that they’re more easily overwhelmed by changing circumstances) whereas high-Ti users are better tacticians. Given time, Ti (and this applies to the Ti-Fe axis in general, though lower Fe is implied in this particular case) can conceive a solution that would be more quickly enacted by a Te-user; the longer it has to think, the better it can handle all aspects of a situation.

Te-Fi lacks that flexibility. High Te is excellent at enacting immediate strategies and dovetailing small victories into larger campaigns, but it because of inherently lower perception functions it can’t effectively process the outer world in quite the same fashion. Much like Ti, Te can accomplish in-depth solutions if given the time to think about it, but it doesn’t come naturally. And because Te is generally animated by a desire to act, forcefully, on the outer world, the only solution is to learn which responses correspond to which situations. Te needs to accumulate knowledge in order to then apply it to the outer world, because it’s not flexible or polyvalent enough to solve complex issues on the fly. Therefore, it channels creativity from lower functions (in the psyche, not necessarily the functional stack) through methods that it knows to work in order to accomplish its goals. If Te does not have an objectively valid method to apply, it will start using Fi-Si or Fi-Ni to attempt to brute force the problem away; this will generally take the form of an attempted appeal to the way things should be or have been, or an exposition of their vision of the way things could be. But because Fi is a lower function, this will most likely be tone deaf, either wrapped up in Te tones of domination and Fi’s righteous outrage, or worse yet, mere petulance.

Aha, and now you’re wondering how this applies to high-Fi users, who have access to both high Pe and Te. Much in the same way that pressed Ti applies logical brute force to a problem in order to resolve an immediate issue at the expense of the larger plan and social perception, so too could stressed Fi fall back on force of conviction and intrapersonal intelligence to apply pressure to a specific aspect of a problem, at the expense of the general logical goal. Ultimately Fi will understand how best to employ this resolve / moral reserve because it’s paired with high Pe.

To give a personal example: the other day, the question of Te’s ability to overthink things arose. For me, overthinking has always been a matter of parting from a perceived truth and attempting to discern the meaning behind it. The problem generally arises from data input: either I won’t have enough information to associate a pattern to a Te strategy, and will thus start relying more on more on implied meanings and panic (“things mean things!” is something I recently said when stuck in one of these loops: hello, Ni); or I’ll have too much information, in which case I’ll generally attempt commit to a solution via Te, then have enough reservations about my given plan of action for Se to fail me completely and fall into “but what do I actually want?” navel-gazing. Both of these problems can be solved by widening my toolbox: one of the greatest assets for undoing them is realizing that the subjective factor is often the brain itself, and so sometimes it’s necessary to realize that coming back to the same thought over and over isn’t “just considering the facts”, it’s actively harming my reasoning. Because Te is extraverted, it often neglects to deal with internal problems, instead exteriorizing them and letting frustrations unknowingly fuel increasingly intransigent reasoning processes.

Extraverted Thinking can only develop in a healthy fashion if it turns on itself, refining not just its way of looking at reality but its patterns for choosing solutions. This is something that I’ve always thought innate in Introverted Thinkers, and it can be agonizing for Te to learn. But unless Te-users learn to look at themselves in the same way they assess reality, they will never manage to attain the same finesse employed naturally by Ti, and will never use their thinking function to its full potential.

[fairytalesbot]

The Pneumatic-Sub-space Generator

We like to think that we are wise folks, but our old people dispute this fact, saying: "No, no, we were wiser than you are." But stories tell that before our grandmothers had learnt anything, and before their grandmothers were born, in Krasnogorsk in the country of Middle Earth, there was a grass hut where Santa Claus lived. Santa Claus lived with Kendall the Crafty, Payton the Inconsiderate, Hesitant Milan, Harley the Respected, Logan the Inconsistent, Pleasant Milan, and Jordyn the Beautiful. Cool-headed Teagan was a friend of Santa Claus. A dishonest squirrel known as Rory came into the region of Krasnogorsk one morning. Santa Claus was driven from his grass hut. Santa Claus encountered Blunt Baitogogo. "Hello, Blunt Baitogogo" rumbled Santa Claus the Morose. "Well, look who this is, it's Santa Claus the Morose" replied Blunt Baitogogo. "Well, you certainly are dutiful," mused Santa Claus the Morose. "Yes, I am," conceded Blunt Baitogogo. "But it's been said that I'm also blunt!" "Here," said Baitogogo, "you'll need this," and gave Santa Claus the Pneumatic-Sub-space Generator. "What's this?" asked Santa Claus the Morose. "What does it look like?" replied Baitogogo. "It's a special, magical Pneumatic-Sub-space Generator. Perhaps you can use it in your struggle with Rory." "I have a tale for you," said Baitogogo, "A certain Santa Claus and what he did in Middle Earth:" Squirrel siezed Santa Claus, placed him in a barrel, and flung the barrel into a small stream. Too bad Santa Claus had never learned to swim. It happens to everyone eventually. It happens to him sooner. There is much wailing in Krasnogorsk. "And now," concluded Blunt Baitogogo, "my tale is done." Santa Claus the Morose was a bit taken aback by the tale. "Well, look who this is: Unbalanced Rory" exclaimed Santa Claus the Morose. "Oh. Santa Claus the Morose" retorted Unbalanced Rory. "Well, you certainly are unbalanced," noted Santa Claus the Morose. "Yes, I am," conceded Unbalanced Rory. "But it's been said that I'm also dishonest!" Santa Claus the Morose manipulated the Pneumatic-Sub-space Generator to annoy Rory. Such behavior could not be tolerated: Santa Claus fell upon the dishonest squirrel, bound him with ropes. So Santa Claus the Morose cut him into small pieces, which were buried throughout the woods. But the dishonest squirrel sits to this day in the pit - in Tartarus. Santa Claus settled down and married. After that he lived long and happily, survived to a great age, and then died peacefully.

[fairytalesbot]

The account of London and his adventures

Once upon a time, in the distant country of Talexico, London lived in a stately manor near Belorechensk. London lived with Julia the Helpful, Unaffected Tatum, Dependent Cameron, Ryan the Irascible, Careful Katherine, Inconsiderate Sydney, Inconsistent Quinn, Jessica the Stoic, Zion the Hypercritical, and Logan the Respected. Soulful Marley, Tatum the Level-headed, Stoic Teagan, Efficient Micah, Marley the Amazing, Skylar the Motivated, and Churlish Lennon were known to London. Noah the Nondescript, a nondescript bear, paid a visit to Belorechensk. London the Agile was tormented at night by Ella. London met Makayla the Easy-going. "Nice to meet you Makayla" said London. "Hello, London" returned Makayla. "Well, you certainly are gentle," noted London. "Yes, I am," conceded Makayla. "But it's been said that I'm also easy-going!" "Here," said Makayla the Easy-going, "you'll need this," and gave London the Agile the Mad Skillz. "What's this?" asked London the Agile. "What does it look like?" replied Makayla the Easy-going. "It's a special, magical Mad Skillz. Perhaps you can use it in your struggle with Noah." Makayla said "I will tell you a story": London the Agile was such an awful drunkard as passes all description. Well, one day he went to a kabak, intoxicated himself with liquor, and then went staggering home blind drunk. Now his way happened to lie across a river. When he came to the river, he didn't stop long to consider, but kicked off his boots, hung them round his neck, and walked into the water. Scarcely had he got half-way across when he tripped over a stone, tumbled into the water - and there was an end of him. It was done. There is much wailing in Belorechensk. "And now," concluded Makayla the Easy-going, "my tale is done." London the Agile was a bit taken aback by the tale. "Well, look who this is: Noah" rumbled London. "Oh, dear. London" replied Noah. "Well, you certainly are scare," said London. "Yes, I am," conceded Noah. "But it's been said that I'm also nondescript!" London the Agile manipulated the Mad Skillz to defeat Noah. London the Agile's horse smote the nondescript bear full swing with its hoof, and cracked his skull, and London made an end of him with a club. Afterwards London heaped up a pile of wood, set fire to it, burnt Noah on the pyre, and scattered his ashes to the wind. London settled down and was given keys to the city. After that he lived long and happily, survived to a great age, and then died peacefully.