#Contrarian way of Trading

[morlock-holmes]

I guess I need to read Veblen now, having some disconnected thoughts about conspicuous consumption.

The term, as widely used in pop culture, brings to mind the purchase of expensive things to demonstrate wealth.

And, of course, as advertising became more advanced in the 20th century brands realized that you could signal all kinds of things through consumption, they could associate themselves with a "lifestyle" that is more particularly defined than just "rich", such as "rugged outdoorsman".

Feel like nowadays there is a certain kind of conspicuous consumption that is primarily about expressing grievance, or even more specifically "You can't tell me what to do".

By purchasing a product you can signal that someone else, who you don't like, has been unable to stop you from purchasing it.

Primarily thinking of GameStop stock here, which kind of went from "Rational Contrarian investment gamble" to "Frightening cult" in a way that seems very new for, you know, a publicly traded stock.

[whining-ylthin]

"Thousand Sons are unfortunately written in a very one-note way, they're either Comically Evil Wizards for the brave Imperial boys to beat up and/or something-something Rubric, and half their content is actually Space Wolves novels with varying amount of TSons bits stuck in.

Anyway, I'm off to obsess over my Thousand Sons OC who is comprised of 75% concentrated Rubric angst and 25% contrarian Space Wolf shagging. Moral compass? Traded that shit for a meal and a roof over the head 9,5 thousand years ago. Compassion? Surgically removed. Victory rate? Uh, does 'surviving despite the odds' count as a victory?"

[lemonhemlock]

“Viserys made rhaenyra his heir and his word is law” “the team black kids were accepted by viserys and laenor so their legitimate” “the team black kids are half targaryen so that’s all that matters”

I will throw you off of a damn roof

None these people understand that we’re watching a show set in the medieval era where the laws and rules were different compared to now but they still try to use modern logic to explain it. We learned this in history goddamn it

Not only are the laws, rules, customs and beliefs different, but the entire political structure is fashioned so as to uphold them! Going against them or trying to change them is notoriously difficult!

Kings only started to consolidate more power slowly as feudalism gave way to centralized bureaucracies due to a variety of socio-economical factors that are very obviously lacking in the world of ASOIAF: the development of urban centres, of the merchant class / townspeople capitalists, expansion of trade, momentous events that lead to a decline in population (like plagues or disastrous wars) -> causing a reduction in the number of peasants, meaning that the peasants who did survive were precious human resources that were not so easily replaceable and demanded more rights for themselves, crusades that impoverished a lot of nobles etc etc - all of these which eroded the power of the feudal lord and allowed kings to absorb that power for themselves.

What these people don't understand is that noble lords held a tremendous amount of power over their own lands and, in an era where travel was difficult, the "king's will" was what they made of it. Sure, the king could THEORETICALLY go to war if a vassal was being too contrarian, but he'd have to convince his other vassals to join him and provide him with an army and wars were expensive. So it was much more advantageous to negotiate with these people and compromise rather than impose oneself via violence, although that did also happen, of course.

Another important catalyst for monarchs gaining more power at the expense of nobles is the introduction of gunpowder and CANONS. Previously, castles were incredibly effective at keeping the enemy out since they were nigh impenetrable. You could only take a castle either by sacrificing a ridiculous amount of fighters, rendering it not worth it, OR by starving it out, which could take MONTHS, was expensive AF and was also not worth it. Now, with canons, if you disobeyed the king, it became a lot easier to get fucked.

Aegon V has this very problem when the nobles opposed his smallfolk policies. So what does he decide to do?? He tries to come up with his own canons, which in-universe, means bringing dragons back. And we all know how that ended.

The difference, of course, is canons are not weapons of mass destruction, whereas dragons most definitely are. So the nobles are kind of in the right here to oppose a monarch that can unleash such a devastating level of death and destruction with no checks and balances imposed on their power.

Viserys can yap all he likes how Rhaenyra is his "rightful" heir, the nobles will only say yeah right and crown Aegon after he dies. "The King's word is law" - how is it law if you do not exercise the monopoly on violence? How is it law if you cannot enforce it? The only way you could make it law in these circumstances is if you convince enough people to abide by it somehow via negotiation and debate. The "law" you're talking about remains a laughable suggestion otherwise.

[mommyashtoreth]

not aboit cro&azi but: opinion on the shallowness and frankly odd pacing of nina and maggies relationship? like one day theyre having stilted conversation, the next maggie is crying over how in love she is.

Hmm. Strokes my wizard's beard. Good question. Good Omens fans have caught on to how much I love the sound of my own voice but not on to the other facet of my deeply annoying yet hilarious and charming personality, which is that I love being contrarian. So, in that fashion, I must disagree with this assessment. As we discovered last night it's been a while since I've watched goomer (I may rewatch it soon, I may not, who knows) but I still think it's abundantly clear that Maggie has a huge crush on Nina from afar, and uh. this is gonna sound crazy but when you have huge unrequited crushes on people it can make you nervous and awkward when you talk to them. Idk I come from an Az-and-Crowley school of relationships myself, where you hang out with someone for eight kajillion years as Totally Platonic Girl Best Friends until one day you just fucking snap you NEED to fuck them so badly, but lots of people experience relationships the way Maggie does, it's a suuuuper common romance trope, and that doesn't make it bad writing! I think we're just so used to seeing this kind of trope be applied to straight relationships and the "platonic gal pals for eight kajillion years until one day you just fucking snap" thing be applied to gay relationships that people aren't ready for this "awkward stuttering and blushing because he looked at me! He let me borrow his pencil!" sort of trope being applied to a wlw relationship. I don't really think their relationship is oddly paced at all, it feels "awkward" because it IS awkward. Nina is someone who, like, barely knows Maggie exists, was in a presumably-monogamous relationship up until very recently, and got a bunch of water dumped on her and then had a trade meeting turned into a Regency ball because these two freaks who are her and Maggie's narrative foils can't just talk to each other normal. And she reacts normally to that I think! I don't think their relationship is badly written (it's probably paced better than, like, Newt and Anathema's, for instance, but I understand the difference in tone between s1 and s2 making those feel like two different cases), it's just yknow, under weird circumstances. Idk I just think it's funny how many goomenheads are completely convinced that Crowley is somehow in total unrequited gay love with Aziraphale (who literally wants him back so badly it makes me sick), and yet I'm here talking about how Maggie is kind of in semi-unrequited gay love with Nina and that's Fine. It's a good character thing. They parallel Az and Crowley in a lot of ways (a romantic obsessed with something near-obsolete who Doesn't Drink and a fast-living cynic who deals with bad shit by instantly initiating Wine Drunk With No Man To Feel Up Wednesday; they're even cast to kind of Look similar which I think is funny), but the structure and context of their relationship is not the same and thus cannot be compared. It's not a Writing Flaw or a Plot Hole or anything to me, it's just the simple difference between "crush before friends" and "friends before crush"

[visxionaries]

who: @gael-hightower where: the bustling great hall of the red keep, in which the court of thorns and roses is in attendance of one of the later wedding festivities of king jaehaerys targaryen; in which a hightower page arrives, taking the lord gael hightower from the room. another enters, offering cedric a letter - the news from oldtown.

the words etched upon the parchment were immediately in a hand he recognised was not the hand of his master of coin; a cerulean gaze sweeping briefly over the parchment before noting the correspondence from the hightower was from another, another that was not the ruling lord. the sounds of the celebrations continued, a celebratory flute that seemed to fill the room with a sense of mirth, a flurry of colours upon the dance floor with each spin that was taken.

and if one looked closely within the coloured spins, they would have seen the hightower page speaking with the thirdborn son of the hightower, before both ventured towards one of the quieter exits of the hall.

on the other end, one would have saw the way in which cedric tyrell remained comfortably within his chair, a hand resting upon his jaw as it always done when he was deep in thought: and he read. and he continued to read. cedric tyrell felt no sense of loss to hear the ruling lord of oldtown had been murdered within his own tower; there was no sense of harrowing numbness that seemed to creep from the depths of his gut and engulf each vein in his body, until the blood itself ran deathly cold.

where else would garland hightower have died, if not in the tower that burned green; in the tower the man chose to make his prison, rather than his seat of power. a cunt, whose core memory to cedric tyrell would be dying the edgy contrarian. screaming about chamberpots.

and yet, despite literally being so high above the entirety of the realm, garland hightower had ended on his knees: as bad as the one was. a failure, in more ways than one: and he thought not of the morality of the man in question, but in regards to his essence of duty. his practicality. what it meant to have such immense influence over not just the rolling fields of the reach, but each corner of the realm if the cards were dealt with well. garland hightower did not know how to truly play cards.

keeping alicent hightower alive, in his attic of all places: as though he had made it his life's mission to continue the shame she had brought upon her own house. if he were alone, he would have found his expression changing to one of disbelief: and yet, the strings remained loose. he read the words. he read them again. the lady herself was being held by the guards of the hightower, who now needed an heir. omer florent and lucrezia redwyne had the heir. the heir's braavosi mother was no longer a subject in his realm.

cedric had never needed braavos. he had never need the trade of the braavosi. and as he moved to rip the paper over the sound of laughter and singing casually, he turned towards the queen, muttering something about them needing to return home soon. before their could be any further questions asked, the king had taken to his feet, climbing down from the steps to make his way through the marble floor towards the master of arts. house hightower had definitely mastered the art of pointless cunning. of dealing the wrong hand. of not knowing how to play cards. the doors opened, and lord gael hightower found himself approached by the king.

"with me." cedric spoke, his tone detached; it was clear to see gael had just received the news of the death of his brother. his mother too. cedric tyrell found his patience had run out with the hightowers some weeks prior, when three brothers seemed unable to do the task allocated to them. now, he found himself distrusting them. what position was more dangerous? the beacon had burned green too long, and if he needed to snuff it out and scald himself in the process, let it be done.

the men left the hall entirely, and he knew not to try to talk within the halls of the keep. they walked in deathly silence back towards the private audience quarters of the king of thorns and roses, and by the time the door closed behind them, cedric found himself looking upon the hightower with a pair of deadset orbs. "it would be in your benefit, lord hightower, to persuade me you did not know."

[lobstermatriarch]

Writer interview game!

Tagged by @eraserspiral, thank you for thinking of me!!

When did you start writing? oh it was young. i remember trading some truly godawful poetry with my friends at recess. buuuut i have never been particularly consistent in keeping up with it.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write? Plenty of them! Mystery and satire are two standouts that i adore but don’t really write well.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often? In terms of pulling inspiration, Tamsyn Muir takes up too much space in my brain (I made Gale read a heavily altered version of Harrow the Ninth out loud in a semi-recent chapter of Come Down whoops :/). outside of her I've probably intentionally taken the most influence from David Mitchell and Nnedi Okorafor

(definitely not been compared to any of them though. )

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space? ohohohoh this implies that i have a dedicated writing space and don’t just bust out my laptop when the mood strikes

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse? if i'm working on a long project i force it sometimes, sit there and write nonsense until something seems usable and then build off that. if i was rich i’d travel more since i always seem to get the best inspiration on trains or at airports

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you? Survival and loneliness vs connection tend to pop up pretty often. Definitely not surprising, but a little frustrating. anytime i finally think i've written something new, i'll go back, read it again, and say "shit this is about That again isn't it."

What is your reason for writing? I am plagued by demons that haunt me until i exorcise them via word vomit

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating? honestly any feedback is motivating, but i do love hearing that someone’s had a strong emotional response to what i’ve written.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers? Hopefully as an enjoyable little freak writing enjoyable little freak things (enjoyable is a relative word here i know)

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer? in general, i want to believe i’m decent at keeping a consistent perspective/point of view. specific to fanfic i like to believe that i’m pretty good at staying within the “he would, in fact, fucking say that” boundary.

How do you feel about your own writing? i am trying to hate it less

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both? it's a mix. i can be a little contrarian so sometimes i'm more influenced by what's popular via trying to avoid it. that said i'm not out to torture anyone reading either so i do try to consider certain writing choices carefully

some very very optional tags: @antimonyantigone @anosrepasi @sweetmalice26 and any other writing followers who would like to try, please do and tag me so I can seeeee

[goodnightmemes]

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON, S01E03 “SECOND OF HIS NAME” SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ Come out and face me! ❜

❛ And surely by the end of this hunt, we shall have more to celebrate. ❜

❛ Then it lies with you to make him see it. ❜

❛ It's been three years. It can wait another three days. ❜

❛ Come, eat. Fortify yourselves for the journey. ❜

❛ If the crown were ever to intervene now is the time. ❜

❛ Can someone tell me where in the Seven Hells [name] might be? ❜

❛ Perhaps the Princess might like to hear something else? ❜

❛ Play it again. ❜

❛ Did I say to stop? ❜

❛ Your presence is wanted in the outer courtyard. ❜

❛ I've decided to remain here and read instead. ❜

❛ He wants for us all to be together. ❜

❛ Is it the King's command? ❜

❛ None of it needs be this way in truth. ❜

❛ Well, isn't this splendid. The whole of our family off to celebration and adventure in the Kingswood. ❜

❛ Should you be traveling in such condition? ❜

❛ Well, you will be with your own child sooner than late. ❜

❛ You should ride out with me today. ❜

❛ The boars squeal like children when they're being slaughtered. I find it discomforting. ❜

❛ I fear the gods did not make me for hunting. ❜

❛ I wouldn't know. I've not spoken to [name] in years. ❜

❛ And how have you served the realm of late, by eating cake? ❜

❛ I don't think we've been properly introduced. ❜

❛ Is that what I am to you? A prize to proffer about to the great houses? ❜

❛ You are of age. And [name] is an excellent match. ❜

❛ He's arrogant and self-serious. ❜

❛ I have tried often to discuss it with you, but you've refused me at every turn. ❜

❛ Even I do not exist above tradition and duty! ❜

❛ There's been a sighting of a white hart. ❜

❛ What happened back there? ❜

❛ Do you want me to kill him? ❜

❛ It's a beautiful day. We should take in the Kingswood. ❜

❛ How lucky you are to have a say in your own life. ❜

❛ Many in the realm would gladly trade positions with you. ❜

❛ All that I have, I owe to you. ❜

❛ That man's pride has pride. ❜

❛ It is not my wish to command her. I want her to be happy. ❜

❛ I came here to hunt, not to be suffocated by all this fucking politicking. ❜

❛ Let us speak no more of it. ❜

❛ The girl is a heedless contrarian. ❜

❛ Do you wish to hear my opinion on the matter? ❜

❛ I must make a final plea that we return to the camp. ❜

❛ What is the power of a dragon... next to the power of prophecy. ❜

❛ Many in my line have been dragonriders. Very few among us have been dreamers. ❜

❛ The hour is too late, husband. ❜

❛ I sought that vision again, night after night... but it never came again. ❜

❛ What if I was wrong? ❜

❛ And does this not please you? ❜

❛ To deny that he is heir to the throne is to assail the laws of gods and men. ❜

❛ The road ahead is uncertain, but the end is clear. ❜

❛ You must guide [name] towards reason. He'll never find it on his own. ❜

❛ The gods have punished me for my indulgences. ❜

❛ Well, if you truly believe that, my dear... then you possess a generous spirit. ❜

❛ I am forever doomed to anger one person in the pleasing of another. ❜

❛ It is no consequence to what I think... as I'm often reminded. ❜

❛ I was trying to help you. Will you not be helped? Why must every effort on your behalf be resisted - as if to the death? ❜

❛ The lords of the realm gather like vultures to a carcass, hoping to feast on my bones. ❜

❛ It is true that as rulers we must marry for advantage to forge alliances and bolster our strength. You have always understood this. ❜

❛ I've heard that story since I've had ears to. ❜

❛ You've been much alone these last few years. Alone and angry. ❜

❛ I will not live forever. I wish to see you contented, happy even. ❜

❛ Show me the knight who will march into that hell pit, and I will show you a madman. ❜

[another-corpo-rat]

and the wheel keeps turning

told myself i was gonna sit and get at least the beats for Victoria's storyline in place. instead i wrote what could ultimately be its epilogue \o/

Adam Smasher/OC Summary: With Yorinobu’s blood on her hands, there’s a significant target on Victoria’s back. Michiko has a solution.

.

“Power suits you,” Victoria offers in greeting. It’s not a lie this time – there’s something to the set of Michiko’s shoulders, a tightness in her core that straightens her spine and pulls her chin up into the slightest tilt. The image is no doubt helped by Smasher’s lingering just by the doorway, an obsidian sentinel against the brighter golds and blues of their new CEO.

But it’s ruined, partially, by that serene and genuine smile that softens the woman’s features; warming her into a real person and not an untouchable empress.

“I find it quite ill fitting. It’s been tailored to my grandfather and uncle.” And then ruined entirely as she fidgets, picking at where chrome gives way to flesh on one of her hands. Victoria has to give her some credit; even that is a gracefully subtle motion. “I’m almost drowning in it.”

There’s an opportunity here to be sharp again. To drive a knife, metaphorically this time, into her confidence, or to gently pry and twist, coaxing her focus from the throne Victoria had a hand in setting her on.

The netrunner considers it while looking over the woman in front of her, pointedly ignoring the cyborg’s presence and how his attention hasn’t slipped from her since the moment he entered.

“Then cut off what you don’t need. Or, restyle it – you have the means to do whatever you chose now.”

“I do.” The fidgeting stops with a practiced intake. One that strikes her as too purposeful and has a tension roll down her own spine. “But…”

Victoria’s own calming breath is much subtler as white eyes focus on her. Searching for…something. “That’s talk for another time.”

“And perhaps with a better choice of conversational partner.”

“I’m certain Hanako would agree with you there.”

“Mhm, I’ll have to retract that statement then,” she says, baring her teeth in a smile, “simply to be contrarian.” Michiko’s lips twitch but she foregoes smiling to instead glance about the apartment.

There’s an odd pressure that rises with that, an active fight not to look around her own space with new eyes, noting oddities and imperfections that denote it as lived in. A fight she’s sure she’d lose if she didn’t distract herself with a sip of too-sweet wine.

She knows well what will be seen; the small shelf of physical books – all nonfiction aside from the thinnest, tucked away out of sight, a still smoking cigarette propped against an ashtray on the kitchen counter, the sheer dressing gown she had traded for one that wasn’t see-through the moment her sensors alerted her to a visitor tossed over the back of a chair.

 “How have you been?”

“Fine.” An honest answer, with its wide variety of meanings.

She’s fine, but she’s clawing at the walls. She’s fine, but she hasn’t slept properly since well before the coup. She’s fine, but she’s wary of everyone who steps through her door.

She’s just fine.

And Michiko has been at this for longer than she’s been alive, giving her a scolding look that’s all the worse for how gentle it is. Piercing enough to have her shift in her chair and look away, sorely regretting that she left the cigarette across the room. “All things considered. This…punishment has been rather cosy.”

“It’s not a punishment, Victoria. This is—”

“‘For my safety,’ I’m well aware.” She bares her teeth in tone, the venom spitting before she has a chance to swallow it down. Behind Michiko, Adam shifts ever so slightly and she bites to squeeze the poison from her tongue. Without it she sounds more defeated than intended, tired. Honest. “But it feels like one.”

Her fingers twitch again, but unlike so many times before Michiko doesn’t keep herself from reaching across. Her hand is warm as it takes Victoria’s, firm in its grounding squeeze and fond in how her thumb rubs a comforting circle.

“Then you’ll be happy on several accounts.” She says, soft and warm like honey in its sweet appeal. The sort she wouldn’t mind getting trapped by if she wasn’t caught in it already, reliant in a way she doesn’t have the energy to mind.

When she opens her eyes again, Michiko’s smile meets her, less wolfish than her usual company, crinkling the crow’s feet at the corner of her eyes. “Zaburo has finalized your security, and I’ve taken efforts to ensure they will not be disruptive to your routines.”

“An unnecessary effort. You have enough on your shoulders.”

“I do, and the sooner I have you working the less I’ll have to carry.” Ah. She can’t help but smile at that, and Michiko’s own grin takes on something conspiratorial.  

“Oh, am I getting your cut-offs?”

“I’m sure you’d fashion something suitable with them.” The CEO sits back, her hand slowly trailing away as she does. That searching to her eyes comes back again, the plotting smile still there. “There’s a party in a week’s time and your attendance is mandatory. I expect you to look your best.” Spoken like an order, with no room for argument. A reminder of the cloth this woman was cut from.

“In the meantime,” Michiko glances over her shoulder, smile slipping into a downright devious thing as she motions with two fingers, “I’ll leave you and your new bodyguard to get acquainted.”

She narrows her gaze as Adam steps forward, pressing down on the urge to crane her neck and see if there’s someone standing behind him, if this was all an elaborate joke. A quick jump to a camera with an angle assures her that no, there wasn’t.  Her vision settles back through her eyes, fixed squarely on him until Michiko stands, still smiling as she asks: “I trust you have no objections?”

No, she wants to admit. None. But heaven forbid she makes it easy for anyone, including herself.

“Isn’t he better suited to guarding you? It seems a waste—”

“No.” Spoken sharply to cut through her sentence, not in Michiko’s warm cadence but Adam’s mechanised bass. He’s staring down at her, the weight of his gaze near unbearable. The dressing gown feels too heavy, bare as she is beneath it. “She has Kenny.”

“Kenichi.” Michiko presses, too amused for it the correction to hold any weight.

“Kenny.” He repeats after a brief pause and passing glance at his ex. “And she’s not the one loyalists are gunning for.”

Simplest explanation, but not the right one.

The right one is a messy thing, a labyrinth. As ensnared as she is, longing for his attention and affection no matter how sparsely they’re given, he’s likewise caught in one of her own design.

And neither of them have made any true effort to tear free, instead settling in and becoming familiar with the surrounding walls; knowing it was built for them and finding traces of the other in decorative murals and toothed traps. A terrifying thought, but of everyone that could know her so well she’s glad it’s him.

That in itself is a problem.

“Then I have no other objections. He’s—” a pause as she catches the words between her teeth, dangerous things in their blatancy and apparent expectation as Michiko raises an eyebrow with a too-knowing look. “Suitable. Despite the mar on his record.”

“Excellent.” There’s a soft, pleasant clink as Michiko gently claps her hands together. “Then as I said, I’ll leave you to it.” And she does, with nary a look back and a haste to her step that doesn’t quite hide the self-content bounce.

Girlish, she would’ve called her once, naïve even. She’s since decided that was an unfair assessment; someone naïve and girlish could not have managed a nearly bloodless coup as Michiko did. Whatever joys the woman had she was more than entitled to; and Victoria would protect them, tooth and nail.

“What fucking mar on my record, Blondie?”

Even if she’d rather curse her timing and approach to certain matters at the moment.

“The one left by Yorinobu.” It’s easier to look into the red of the wine than his optics, softer on the eyes. “Or his death, to be more accurate.”

A stain by her own hand, splattered onto his reputation.

A beat of silence answers her. Then another.

And another.

She looks over the wineglass to meet his stare, her lips pulling with a smug smile. Adjusting herself, she lounges into the chair and curls her finger in a ‘come here’ motion. The thrill of his obedience mixes nicely with the familiarity of his looming, with the cool of metal hands against warming skin. “I trust you’ll be more…attentive with me, Smasher.”

“I’ll consider it,” a pause, and she can see the wheels in his head turning just as easily as she sees the pull on his maw, that mockery of a smile he can manage, “cunt.”

“Prick.”

[warsofasoiaf]

When it comes to Joe Rogan, I’m of two minds. On the one hand, he doesn’t really take responsibility for having a large platform that clearly reaches and influences a lot of people.

On the other, if you’re primarily getting your medical and political information from Joe Rogan podcasts, isn’t there a bit of personal responsibility that needs to be taken from the individual?

I would love for people to take personal responsibility to vet the information that they consume and are exposed to. Not only would that weed out the cranks, but it would improve the quality of genuine sources and prevent filter bubbles. Contrarians and freedom to question are an essential part of the information ecosystem and avoiding groupthink, which creates a much healthier population overall. That's not going to happen though.

One problem is quantity, there is simply too much information for the average Joe or Jane to fact-check. If you've ever heard the term "big data" and know what that industry is all about, you'll know that there's simply an enormous amount of data out there that needs to be made sense of that simply can't be done by the normal human brain. We've not only been making algorithms to filter out the noise and get only the parts of data that are useful, but we've been designing machine learning to be able to automate that, to train computers by programming to recognize these things simply so we can produce useful knowledge out of massive data sets. We only have so much attention span and so much time to spend researching to find out what is true and what isn't.

The other problem is qualitative, you need expertise to be able to determine what's real and what's pseudo-realistic bunk. Charlatans from throughout history have used the seeming appearance of knowledge to grift people that don't have the specialized knowledge to know better, and I know this from personal experience. These days, disinformation is carefully curated for maximum psychological validation that causes the listener to self-curate and automatically tune out any evidence to the contrary. Just look at any of Putin's or Medvedev's speeches at how they are carefully tailored for everyone from tankies to alt-right tradcons to pick and choose a line to run with to further their grandiose delusion of reality. Rogan might just be engaging any sort of contrarian on his podcast to appeal to his target audience, but if you don't know anything about the subject, you might believe whatever bogus study was commissioned because it sounds authoritative and you don't have the knowledge to correct it. This comes from a guy who is highly critical of some of what academia does - particularly history departments - you do need experts and they do need credibility.

In an ideal world, we'd have trusted sources of information, institutions with the weight of validity behind them, but unfortunately we simply don't have that these days. Part of it is the institutions' fault, they are reluctant to admit when they're wrong and the idea of promoting healthy debate has long gone out of style in favor of a quick serotonin high castigating any dissent as immoral. Technology these days has only contributed to the information overload which curates filter bubbles and groupthink for maximum engagement. But a lot of it isn't, there's plenty of malicious actors who use every trick of the trade to prey on people because they don't know and are too busy to be able to figure it out. Click-based algorithms, short attention spans cultivated by TikTok and Twitter, and highly sophisticated disinformation programs have done a lot of harm to the information space.

What I'm at a loss to do, however, is find a way to fix it in a practical sense. A truth and information board would simply become co-opted and corrupted and anyone who doesn't believe that is either a damn fool or hoping for the power to be the arbiter of truth. Letting the information space lie has not produced a sort of self-correction. Sorry to end it on a downer, but that's just how it is.

Thanks for the contribution, Anon.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

[bubblesandgutz]

Every Record I Own - Day 819: Nomeansno Live + Cuddly

I liked Nomeansno as a teenager. They checked off enough of the punk boxes: they were loud, they were angry, they could play fast, and there was a contrarian angle to what they were doing. But I didn't LOVE Nomeansno until a college friend came by my house with a stack of LPs he'd swiped from our college radio station.

I should maybe back up a bit. Sometime around 1999, I started making music with my friend Andrew down in Olympia. I played bass. Andrew played keyboards and programmed the drum machine. We were called The Sexual. I wanted it to sound like a more pop-oriented, up-tempo version of Thrones, but I wasn't used to taking a strong songwriting role in a band capacity. Andrew was more musically adventurous than I was back then and he was much better at bringing all kinds of sounds and styles into the fold. But it was still a bit of a struggle to find a middle ground between our interests. We had both been excited by the more chaotic and flamboyant brand of DIY hardcore that had proliferated in Olympia back in the '90s, but it felt like that scene had run its course and now we were branching off from that world in different directions.

At some point Andrew mentioned he had just bought the latest Nomeansno album, Dance of the Headless Bourgeoisie. This struck me as a little strange as Andrew didn't seem like the kind of person who'd be a Nomeansno fan. And I hadn't even revisited their records in several years. Maybe it was Andrew's way of nudging me as a songwriter... like, "hey, here's a band where the bassist leads the charge... take some notes." I remember digging up my Small Parts cassette and playing it in the Botch van on our way up to play a show in Bellingham (where most of the live footage from the "St Matthew" video was shot). By the end of the '90s, my interest in hardcore had eclipsed my interest in the weird skronky brand of punk that I loved in the earlier part of the decade (see also: My Name, Victim's Family, etc), so Nomeansno had fallen out of my personal rotation, but now that Botch was veering into math-rock territories, I was hearing some of the parallels between this band I'd loved as a young teenager and the music I was currently making with my friends.

The Sexual dissolved sometime around 2001 and Botch would be done a year later. But my interest in Nomeansno was rekindled. I had already graduated from college so I no longer had my radio show and the accompanying access to their neglected storage room full of vinyl. But I mentioned to a younger friend who still had a show that I would trade him some hardcore records for any Nomeansno LPs he could liberate from that sad, dusty, basement closet. A few weeks later he showed up with six Nomeansno records.

That was a lot of Nomeansno to absorb all at once. I gave 'em all a cursory listen, but it was the double live album Live + Cuddly that immediately grabbed my interest. The performances were locked in, but it still felt frenzied. The air-tight production of their studio albums was replaced by the room sound and scuzzy audio bleed of the show environment. And this was essentially a greatest hits collection of their '80s output, which meant we were hearing Nomeansno at their peak.

Here was a band that could balance hardcore aggression with prog-rock musicianship while retaining a post-punk sense of austerity. They captured the angst and power that drew me to punk as a teenager while displaying a level of nuance and sophistication that could keep me interested as an adult.

This was the point where I started to LOVE Nomeansno.

[grandhotelabyss]

Thoughts on the Lynch Dune adaption? Maybe I will be called contrarian or some crypto fascist, but I kinda vibed with the whole thing of actually subverting the subversion and making Dale Cooper be some ubermensch power fantasy that brings back the wrath of God, like some space King David - maybe because I'm tired of the now prelevant pop nihilism, especially the historic one as the chinese comunist party calls it "wow actually even in the future all religion will be used is for self destructive aims" - then its funnier to see nah it actually does pay off by them accidentally creating something sincere and not plagued by self-terminating doubt

I haven't seen it in years. I watched it before I read the book and remember being pretty lost because of how much plot and concept they were trying to compress into such a short span of screen time. The novel trades in the "pop nihilism" you mention: the libertarian author intended the saga as a warning against the centralization of temporal and spiritual power into one paradoxically anti-imperial empire, as has been, I assume he would further argue, the shared fate of Christianity, Islam, and perhaps also America. On the other hand, our whole cultural attraction to Dune depends on the glamor of what it depicts—the warring feudal houses, the immemorial order of witches, the desert psychedelia, the dream of collective emancipatory violence in a primal horde—which no merely rational critique can dispel. Therefore, Lynch, whatever his own politics[*], understood this impotence of critique well enough to create a phantasmagoric spectacle of Dune superior on its surface to Villeneuve's later version, despite the narrative's not making much sense. I respect Villeneuve's ambition, and I respect Blade Runner 2049 in particular, but he is undoubtedly a symptom of "stuck culture," since all his works subsist on what little can still be scavenged from those ruins of Jodorowsky's abortive Dune that gave us Alien and Blade Runner in the first place. (And Villeneuve's Dune fantasizes, by cannily or cynically manipulating American racial signifiers, of fusing anti-imperialism with empire into a single regime that will boast such monumental artworks as his cinema as its ornament. This kind of thing, not libertarian populism, is probably the real fascist ideology of our age.) Which is all a long way of saying that I agree with the common consensus on Lynch's Dune: perhaps the worst movie to have the best mise-en-scène ever.

__________________________________

[*] Lynch makes face-saving left-friendly remarks from time to time, but I suspect his politics are closer to Herbert's than not. He gingerly dared to say something nice about Trump back in 2018, got pilloried, and had to walk it back. Anyway, I'm a bad Lynchian. When he's good, he's good, but I never got all the way into Twin Peaks (probably my fault), and I turned off Inland Empire after an hour (definitely his fault).

[greysfic]

Random Darkening Skies Setting Drabbles

The most commonly used counting of days in the current era is the Throne Calendar. As implied by the name, it originates with the city of Throne and Dragon-Emperor Imperus. As with most of Imperus' influence over the Known World, it's not enforced; Throne was simply the most stable political centre after the Bellum Draconum and so other polities adopted their calendar for ease of trade and diplomacy. It is divided into the Antebellum years, counting down to the war where Imperus was forced to slay Their eldest daughters, and Postbellum years, counting up following the conclusion of the war.

Trollhaven still keeps their own calendar based on the tides and ice sheets, flexible in a way which serves their way of life.

The City-Engine internally uses an atomic clock to define their calendar, rigid and not quite so precise as they insist.

Kroms uses a lunar calendar. Kaer, ever contrarian, uses a solar calendar derived in part from the Throne Calendar but with absolute refusal to fully adopt.

The Crantiré calendar is based around the lifecycles of the heart trees and the Worldcap.

[surveillance-0011]

Are you still doing requests for the splatbands ask game? If so, can we get 6 with Omega-3’s DJ? I love them so much 😭

Yep, and I’m always willing to talk about splatoon ^_^

And you have just opened Pandora’s box btw

6: headcanons for ω-3’s DJ

They/them maybe they/he. Like 18-21 in Splat2 and mid twenties at most by 3.

A Goldie. At least, genetically so. They have the intelligence and perhaps the longer life as well, but the looks are… off. Their scales don’t grow in right and they’re not as shiny. More of a dull metallic olive at the very least. They’re a lil self conscious abt it…

Pretty smart with tech and also has some street smarts. Struggled academically though.

Some of their rudeness is just from being too chummy and lax with people way too early on but they’re also just very disagreeable. Contrarian for the sake of it. Likes arguing and annoying people. The respect they hold for others is low- and even those they do respect in their mind sure as hell aren’t treated with it.

Doesn’t totally hate the other two, they do appreciate their presence and talent (+ vice versa) but they’re just… idk this is just how they are. They want things their way they think they can get away with being a total dick. But the other two can also be unbearable so it’s all back and forth and depends on the day and situation

Gets along better with the drummer bc they’re closer in age + the drummer isn’t nearly as stubborn or critical or bitchy as a certain cellist playing fish is… the two might live together too. Cellist lives on his own though maybe.

The cellist is their favorite person to fuck with. They always get on his nerves and they see anything he tells them not to do or whatever as a challenge. They generally dislike his state of authority in the band as they think he’s a bit too restrictive (though he does give them some leeway) and judgy, so they’ll take any chance to knock him down a peg.

And the Cellist gets frustrated that they rarely seem to take things seriously and their general attitude and whatnot.

Party animal. Pretty good and hyping up a crowd and keeping them that way.

Impulsive, makes a lot of bad decisions they end up regretting in both mundane and very serious situations. It’s only when consequences hit them that they start to feel bad but they can’t really stop. Don’t know how, don’t know if they even want to try. But they are more than a little self aware of the fact it’s becoming an issue.

Energetic but carries themself with a sort of unbothered, too-cool-for-school vibe. They try to be chill but they do get excited quite easily. They’re confrontational but try to never seem upset even when words or actions cut deep. If all that even makes sense.

Rough childhood in rough area. Shitty parents and an ok ish older sister. Music got them through the worst of it though their mother was very unsupportive of their goals. Soo they eventually just left, got enough money to start off with some odd jobs here and there and later gained financial stability through the band and perhaps some other things. I assume Goldies get some privileges esp regarding trade and finances bc they’re valuable members of society by default.

Their relationship with their sister is rough. A little distant and they argue a lot.

Familiar with Dedf1sh and her music. Doesn’t know her personally and is unaware of her fate but knows what many others do: that she was a talented musician who disappeared without a trace. They really want to know what happened to her.

The whole Grizzco situation is actually rlly fucking them up. they’re terrified. Worried sick abt the future but trying to appear OK abt it. But their anxiety and despair over it is strong and they can’t hold it together for much longer

But they do like laughing at particularly stupid Grizzco workers and runs that end in disaster for ‘em.

ALSO. My hc nickname for them is L.S./Ellis. Bc. Loyal Servant > L.S. > Ellis. Idk if or how the titles will be localized but until then this is what I’ve been calling em mentally.

[starfoam]

"Hey, kid. You like vampires, right? Ever heard of a vampire that just... sucks the life out of someone?"

"Oh yeah, there's a couple kinds of those."

Was she working on a little (all natural) waxed raincoat with a hood for Jiji? Yes, but now she isn't. She sets the work down to turn to him. It's a slow day, and Archie looks like he needs information fast. She'll do what she can.

"Now, energy vampires are the first kind. They can also be called emotional vampires, but that's also a term for a specific kind of person, so energy vampire's the more effective term. They feed on emotional energy, usually by inducing highs and lows in their chosen target and sapping energy by being in their general presence. The older ones are pretty subtle and hard to clock, but most energy vampires seem to get by attending community events and spouting controversial opinions. Not so common, hard to parse from normal contrarians."

She takes a breath.

"The other... has a few names. Wraith, revenant, wight, lich... it varies a bit from region to region and timeline to timeline. But the main... thing I know they have in common is that they usually start as a living thing, die, and come back. But... sometimes they do come back, but get warped by the process. Sometimes something else comes back in their place and wears their memory like a second skin.

And sometimes... sometimes they don't make it all the way back, but they don't realize it because their sense of normal died with them. But the uniting thing is that they did die, and now life exists in a space that was dead... and it usually needs something to sustain it. Magic, a specific resource, or the life force of other beings. Because they weren't supposed to come back, at least not like that."

She's picking up her sewing again, just to help her collect her thoughts.

"I don't know why. I've only seen it a couple times, in timelines that were experiencing what I can only describe as a supernova event - right before they die, they revive hard and fast, but it goes all wrong and the timeline dies for real when nothing brought back can sustain itself. It's... hard to watch, and I've managed to prevent it most times I've seen it. What happens to those Ultra Beasts... it's just no way to live.

Sometimes they can stabilize - seems to be the most common in liches, but they also become skeletons so it's a trade-off - but most of the time they're just..."

She takes a breath.

"There's a threshold between life and death. Once you cross it, really and truly cross it, you can never truly leave. I've never made it that far, but... from what I've seen, those that do and come back leave something there, on the other side. I don't know if it's the soul, but it sure is something important. Without it, you can come back, but something's always gonna be a bit missing, and it leaves hunger in its place. It's a sorry state for everyone, both the undead and the ones who cross their path."

She looks up at Archie again, studies his face. There's... there's fear there.

"...Could I offer you something to drink? We have iced hibiscus tea, it's just flowers and local combee honey for sweetness. You look like you need it."

[sectorspdr]

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[perpetual-fool]

Logically Gullible

Context, I'm made significant progress with my mental state, using the 'contrarian' strategy. I've refuted the beliefs that I'm innately bad, should be suffering, and shouldn't be allowed any understanding. And I've come up with an explanation as to how people seem too genuine to be as dishonest as they are, which also underpinned the aforementioned beliefs. I'm simply gullible. But I'm gullible in a 'framing the situation' kind of way. Like someone would tell me "if you really loved me you would have rotated your onions", I just kind of accept that, and then struggle to figure out how I was supposed to know to do that.

The problem, I don't know how to decide how to think about things. In principle, I can now catch the 'piece of shit/kill yourself' thoughts. But I don't know how to replace the thought patterns that create them, and I don't know how to feel good about anything. So like, I've been running across skits of corporate shenanigans that are like "we want you to come in fifteen minutes early but not pay you for it, because preparing for work isn't 'work'" and I legitimately do not know how to process something like that. Ostensibly that's like saying "'cooking' means applying heat to the food, so peeling and chopping vegetables isn't 'cooking'". And you know, if someone paid you to be a cook but expected you to peel the potatoes for free, you'd be upset. But if that's part of cooking, then isn't buying and transporting the food also 'cooking'? Why wouldn't eating and sleeping so you have the physical and mental energy to do the work also be 'cooking'? Is watching a video of a guy making cookie lasagna also 'cooking' because it's contributing to your knowledge of how food works and might ultimately have an effect on your work?

I don't know, I'm missing something critical.

I would guess that what I need is the inverse of what's causing the negative thoughts. Say, there's the thought that what I do isn't good enough and I should feel bad about it. For instance, sharpening the kitchen knives, it's easy to think they're not sharp enough. But I've done sharper, for a while I made them just as keen as the straight razor I had been shaving with. The result was that they went dull faster, weren't actually any easier to use, and I'd end up with papercuts all over my hands from the incidental contact of handling them. If the 'not sharp enough' sentiment was true, I should have felt fulfilled for making them too sharp. But no, it shifted to something else. They're not at the level of sharpness perfectly suited to their use case instead. (Except they are, and the bad thoughts don't recognize trade-offs.)

So hypothetically, I'm missing whatever would tell me that what I've done is good enough.

How does that work? ya' know, when people aren't manipulating you?