#The Gigantic Turnip

[ruscatontheroof]

The Gigantic Turnip-russian folk tale, published in 1860 by folklore researcher A. N. Afanasyev in his collection Russian Folk Tales. Was recorded in the Arkhangelsk province. The tale belongs to the chain type and tells about an old man's attempt to pull out a huge turnip, who calls for help first from his family members, and then from animals.

Репка - русская народная сказка, опубликованная в 1860 году исследователем фольклора А. Н. Афанасьевым в его сборнике «Народные русские сказки». Была записана в Архангельской губернии. Сказка относится к типу цепочных и рассказывает о попытке вырвать стариком огромную репу, который зовёт на помощь вначале членов своей семьи, а затем и животных.

[thelastofthebookworms]

My tag for this series is 'fairy tales'.

[lionsongfr]

Flameforger's Cuisine

In the Ashfall Waste natural food resources are scarce and much of their food is imported from other Flights. While neither Banescales or Coatls eat plants, seafood is a hot commodity with a large majority being imported from the nearby Churscarf Wharf of Water. Export of metal and weapons was thriving and thus provided the necessary income for the imports; however, with the Magmablood Rebellion those exports have dwindled and so has the treasure needed for seafood. Yet, the chefs of Fire are a passionate group who have traveled throughout the lands and always come back home with presents of food and drink- and of course their ability to cook some amazing meals!

 Also spice levels in this post:

MILD: Wild Mustard< Golden Pepper < Cindermint <Ashfall Prickler < Fire Ant< Firefly < Blacktongue Pepper :HOT

Scaleskin Marlin Ham- an import from Redrock cove, the tail of this gigantic fish is brined for 3 days and then coated in a toasted spice mixture of ground Pelagas Feathers, Wild Mustard, and dried Blood Acorn. It is then left to cure for 4 weeks before being thinly sliced and served with a Warm Miniature Potash chutney and Turnip bread crostini. (thanks to Josh Niland for the idea)

Grilled Firecoiler Egg Bowl - fillets of the long Firecoiler are first skewered to prevent them from curling when grilled. Then they are marinaded in Wild Catsup, Ashfall Prickler sauce, and garum (a fermented fish sauce made Anchovies).  After grilling they are put into a pot of fish broth and Wild Onions, simmered, before a Hooded Hen egg is added to be soft scrambled. The whole mixture is poured over a Turnip-Granny Smith Apple mash.   

Crown of Roast Ram-cutting and tying a rack of ram into a crown can be a difficult, but chefs often use a Blacksand Annex brand bundt pan to help retain its shape. The juices are mixed with tart Blackberry vinegar, Wild Catsup, and fresh Siltvine to create a tart and sweet sauce for the strong-tasting meat of the Ram.  Typically served with roasted Thistle hearts and baked whole Sweet Potatoes.

Rebel Red Hotpot- started by the rebels to cook food when low on fuel, it is a pot of Dried Jerky broth colored red with Crimson Jadevine. Food is quickly cooked in the boiling broth before being dipped into a ground Fire Ant (or Firefly) pepper in oil. Most common foods for the pot are: Cindershroom, Salamanders, Softshell Scorpion, Red Octopus tentacles, and Fissure Crawdads, but truly the variety is whatever you can catch that day.

Knee Kicker- a very spicy sandwich that starts with frying a recently molted Red Knee Tarantula. The fried Tarantula is then dipped in a Blacktongue Pepper sauce (import from Shadow) and dusted with powered Firefly pepper.  Then this deadly arachnid is topped with pickled Wasteland Pear slices and placed between two toasted Sweet Grass buns. Considered a deadly weapon in all Flights except Fire.

Scorpion Scampi Pizza- the tastiest part of a Scorpion Fly is its tail, which it drops after becoming an adult. Dutifully collected by smaller dragons, it is cooked in wine, garlic, herbs, and sour Miniature Potash Peach juice till barely pink. The crust is precooked before the sauce, tails, and Snow Elk parmesan (import from Ice) is layered upon it. The pizza is baked again for a few minutes (or milliseconds in the volcanic ovens) to get the perfect melty and crunchy bite!

Sweet Potato Poutine- jokingly called a peace offering to Ice Flight, this hearty dish starts with a base of thin and crispy fried Sweet Potatoes from the Volcanic Vents. It is topped with smoked rice milk curds (rice an import from Wind), Cindershroom gravy, and a spicy Cindermint pepper.

Wildfire Kebab- there are some brave flowers and plants that survive and thrive in the Volcanic Vents. They are the divine Smolderpetal, the dangerous Speckled Fire Lily, the caloric Blood Spath, the meaty Cindershroom, and the slightly bitter Cindervine. Together they are roasted on metal skewers and basted with a Ashfall Prickler sauce.

Zeeba Berry Bars- a sweet treat that with came about from a truce between Fire Flight and Centaurs. Ration Pouches filled with oats and nuts formed the base of the bar, and the center is a mix of Strawberry and Blackberry jam. The top is striped with a sweet frosting dyed black with powdered Cindervine.

Flaming Peach Souffle -a testament to any chef’s ability, a Souffle is a risky and rewarding dessert. Miniature Potash Peaches are finely chopped with sugar and cooked in saucepan with the egg yolks. The egg whites, sugar, and cream of tartar (which is also metal processing agent that prevents oxidation) are beaten into stiff peaks and gently mixed with the peach mixture before being added to ramekins and cooking. A smokey Grassland Grain bourbon sauce is poured over top and set alight to the delight of the diner.

Blue Flame Boulevardier- a cocktail made of Red Banana Liqueur (which is actually blue), Grassland Grain bourbon, sweet vermouth (import made from Light’s grapes or Ice’s sugar beets), and Pelagas Feather Campari. Stirred with ice and then strained with into a chilled glass, it is garnished with a slice of Wisp Fruit.

[mastomysowner]

🐇 Alexander Ryzhkin

Fairy tale "The Gigantic Turnip"

Technique: paper, liner, marker

[xiaoddexingjiutang]

Updated chapter 25 of Migratory Birds Chinese version. After the civil war, Dreadwing and Skyquake make contact to Megatron by video after his revival, and the resemblance between the Halloween tale and Decepticons.

"Ancient Ireland had a drunkard named Jack. On Halloween, he tricked the devil into climbing a tree and trapped him there. He wouldn’t let the devil down until the devil promised never to let him fall into hell. After Jack died, he couldn’t enter heaven because he didn’t believe in God, and the devil wouldn’t let him into hell either. To help him find his way back to the human world, the devil gave him a burning coal. Jack placed this burning coal inside a lantern carved from a large red turnip. This first 'Jack-o'-lantern' was supposed to help him find his way back to Ireland, but he never did. So, he wandered the earth forever with the lantern. Nowadays, pumpkins are used instead because they are easier to carve, look better, and last longer. We saved two for you," Cody pointed to two gigantic pumpkins in the corner, magnified by a bright light, which startled both of them.

Unable to enter hell for tricking the devil, unable to go to heaven for not respecting God, wandering the earth, and rejected by his homeland... isn’t this just like their teacher Megatron? Or rather, something that exists in every Decepticon?"

[batrachised]

Adventures in Maud's Recipes

Swiss Potato Soup

The Recipe

After starting off strong with something sweet, I decided to steer this venture to something savory! I live in a corner of the world where the 100 degree days are just coming to an end (an 80 degree day here is thought as "having a chill in the air") and so I landed on soup, which to me is the perfect fall recipe as the weather turns. And hoo boy, soup did I get. Maud's Swiss potato soup has (you guessed it) potatoes, a turnip (I have literally never cooked with a turnip and so was bravely venturing into unknown lands), onions, milk, flour, butter, salt and pepper! Basically, a smooth creamy soup that you would likely find topped with cheese and bacon bits at a restaurant. There were some vague(ish) ingredients I had to stumble through as an amateur cook (computer: what is considered a medium potato?), but by far the most difficult part was the potatoes and the number of pots/things required. I had a saucepan for milk; I had a saucepan for vegetables and water; I had a saucepan for MORE water; I had a sieve for straining; I had a blender for blending; and all of the ingredients had to be hopped from one pot to the next in a feverish switch. I paled at the prospect of fitting what seemed to be gallons of hot soup in my poor cheap plastic blender, but nothing exploded (or worse, melted), although I did waste some brain cells coaxing my blender as if it were a jittery animal.

The Results

I should have guessed because in my experience this happens with all soups, but I'll be eating potato soup for approximately the next 50 years. This made a reasonable-yet-somehow-still-ENORMOUS-for-one-person amount of soup. Behold, a very ugly photo of the soup that looks somewhat like a gigantic milk tea:

The Reviews

It tasted good and creamy! At first it was frightening because I took a sip and it tasted exactly like a spoonful of milk that had a vague potato flavor, almost like la croix potato soup, but then it thickened (whew! much like Barney's character arc). It definitely is the perfect fall recipe and I think it could go with virtually anything, much like potatoes themselves. Clifford Roommate was unavailable for comment on this one unfortunately, so ya'll will have to take my word for it.

Would I make it again? Thousand yard stare- the amount of time this took...the potato peeling...the turnip preparing...the chopping...the boiling...the sieving...the blending...drums, drums, in the deep...they are coming...okay, no I wouldn't. Too time consuming. I could see myself doing it once a year, but unless you really love cooking, this recipe does take a few hours and you have to be THERE the entire time hovering and stirring things feverishly (however, if you were a more experienced cook it probably would go more smoothly). How would I rate it? Well, if a zero is one of Davy's never-ending rambling stories, and a ten is Miss Cornelia's single-sentence-that-contains-worlds on marrying fascinating and wicked men, I'd give this one of Emily's evenings with Andrew.

[kykyonthemoon]

Wanderer In Vanarana

— 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔: Scaramouche/ Wanderer, Nahida, Aranara

— 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔: hurt/ comfort, soft angst

— 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Scaramouche awoke, just to find himself being "planted" by the Aranara.

— 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 1580

— 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

— 𝐚𝐨𝟑

-----------------------

Please…

Don’t take it from me…

Without the Gnosis, I am nothing…

He stretched out and tried to seize the Gnosis that was once his. Only for a brief time. He couldn't move, though. He was unable to use his hands. His entire body was immobile, as if chained. It got dark in front of him. Then a hot tear streamed down the corner of his eye.

Scaramouche tried to open his eyes, only to be blinded by the brightness. He squeezed his eyes shut. He attempted to move and comprehend his environment using all of his senses.

At that very moment, a stream of water was raining down on his head and face.

"Must water it daily, and the plant will thrive..."

Scaramouche became aware of a weird voice coming from above. He struggled once more but failed. His limbs were immobilized, but he could move his head. He screamed as he fought to open his eyes.

"Oh! Bad Nara has awakened!"

The other voice was terrified. The water stopped flowing. Scaramouche shook his head back and forth, trying to get the water out of his eyes. It was then that h e realized his situation.

He was sprawled on the ground. The limbs and body were buried in damp but warm dirt. The soil was up to his neck. Radishes and other fruits surrounding him. He glanced further out and felt as though he was lost in a wilderness filled with gigantic plants. It was not day or night, but the sky had this odd purple tint. There were wooden lanterns lighting up the area nearby.

Nobody was there, only a mushroom-shaped head full of strange flowers moving among the radishes. Scaramouche heard the voice once more: 

"Aranakula must call others! Bad Nara has awakened!"

The voice must have come from that odd movable fruit head. It vanished someplace in the garden. Scaramouche poured all of his last energy into his disintegrating body in order to escape the soil. Fortunately, he wasn't buried too deeply. After a few minutes of struggle, he was able to release his chest and stomach, then sit up.

He had no recollection of this location. It  was also unknown to him. Scaramouche lifted himself up by placing his hands on the ground. When he discovered he was just wearing a thin layer of clothes and had no Gnosis or Vision on, he panicked out.

"What have you done to me? Return the Gnosis at once!"

He was yelling incoherently. Then he saw the rustling of the leaves on the ground. A group of what seemed to be round turnips of various colors surrounded him in a circle. They had two eyes, two mouths, two limbs and legs, and strange marks on their stomachs.

Scaramouche recognized the voice from earlier. It was obvious up to now. The thing called Aranakula was a green-yellow creature with a headgear composed of vegetables and fruits and a straw bag on his side.

"You... What exactly are you?" Scaramouche yelled.

"Bad Nara is impolite!" said another member of the pack. He was a little smaller than Aranakula. He was a bright green tint with what appeared to be a crown of gold leaves on his head.

"We are Aranara. We, like the Nara, have given ourselves names. Arama is my name, and Aranakula is the other’s. For quite some time, Aranakula and the Aranara have been looking after Bad Nara."

Scaramouche's head was frozen in place. He wasn't sure if these talking plants spoke the same language as him. Why couldn't he comprehend anything?

"Return Gnosis to me at once! And get me out of here immediately!"

Scaramouche stomped fiercely on the ground. To get out, he began trampling on the vegetables in the garden. When the Aranara saw this, they fled in terror. One of them shouted:

"Bad Nara has gone insane! Please hurry! We must tell the Lord of Verdure right now!"

So Scaramouche kept smashing, messing up the garden. His lips were constantly yelling for what was rightfully his.

"Buer! You little brat! Give the Gnosis back to me right now!"

Scaramouche frantically exited the garden area. He walked while yelling. The Aranara only ventured to peep out from behind a rock or shrub. They were trembling. When he arrived at the lake, however, another troop of Aranara had already formed there.

"Bad Nara must be stopped!"

"That's correct! Otherwise, he'll ruin the entire place!"

Scaramouche was unconcerned. He kept screaming for a meeting with the Dendro Archon.

The Aranara mumbled something together before forming a circle around Scaramouche. A dazzling green light shot in his face before he could react, and he found himself trapped in a green bubble surrounded by odd symbols from the outside.

"Hey! What are you doing now? Let go of me! Do you know who I am? I am a God!"

Still, Scaramouche remembered that Gnosis had been plundered and Vision had vanished. He couldn't get out of here any longer.

"You vermin! How dare you imprison me now? Get Buer right here! And the Traveler as well!"

Scaramouche was struggling when he heard footsteps approaching. He turned his gaze to see the Dendro Archon standing there.

"So you've awakened." She stated. The current Dendro Archon only took the form of a little girl, reaching Scaramouche's waist. But she used her brains to defeat him for good. Scaramouche, of course, never gave in.

"Give me back the Gnosis!" Scaramouche yelled. Helplessly, his hands banged into the bubble.

The Aranara screamed, "The Lord of Verdure has arrived! We must seal Bad Nara so that he does not destroy this land."

After a brief glance around, Nahida stated, "Please accept my apologies. I'm going to assist in restoring all he's broken."

The Aranara were overjoyed. They commended Nahida, the Lord of Verdure, for her benevolence.

"About Bad Nara, what should we do with him now?" Arama inquired.

"Release me!" Scaramouche thrashed again desperately. "Buer, you took away my Gnosis! When I get out of here, I'll make you pay!"

Nahida put her hand to her chin and pondered: "You appear to be obstinate, still. Then I'll keep you here for a little while longer."

"What? You dare to imprison me here? The Cyro Archon will knock at your door and request my presence! Your Sumeru will be destroyed by the Fatui!"

"The Fatui has already departed from Sumeru." Nahida responded in a cold tone. "Dottore got what he had come for and returned to Snezhnaya a while ago."

"What? That... That is a lie!"

Scaramouche was shaken. He was aware that his relationship with the other Harbingers was tense, but he constantly convinced himself that as long as he did his job well, he would always have a place in Snezhnaya; he would always be needed.

And yet...

Once again, he was abandoned.

"You're lying..." The words weren't screams, but as if Scaramouche was comforting himself. "I... I won't be left here all alone..."

"I am the God of Wisdom, not a liar." Nahida replied, her eyes full of determination. "You have tried to rob my Gnosis, to bring calamity to my Sumeru. As a consequence, you are my prisoner, and I have the authority to condemn you to death."

Nahida took a pause. Scaramouche was no longer enraged. He was now like a puppet with broken strings. Nobody wanted him any more.

"However, it's not up to me." Nahida went on. "I will not rob you of your right to life because you are not the puppet I gave life to. You must, however, make amends for your actions. Someone told me all I needed to know about you. Then, based on what I discovered, I've decided to give you a chance."

Scaramouche glared furiously at Nahida. As he waited for Nahida's judgment, his eyes became blurry with tears.

"You can not go back to Snezhnaya, nor be in Sumeru. You'll stay here for a while. This place is a dream. No one else can find you, except me. During this time, rest and reflect on what you have done and what you should do in the future.”

Nahida waved her hand, branches emerging from the ground and folding neatly in her palms to make a garment.

“This is the new outfit I made for you."

Nahida set the garment down on a nearby rock. Then she addressed the Aranara, saying:

"Thank you for accepting my request."

"The Lord of Verdure possesses the purest and brightest energy on the planet. That is why we always have faith in you."

The Aranara then looked to the now motionless Scaramouche and remarked, "We'll assist the Lord of Verdure in taking care of him.”

Nahida beamed.

"Thank you. When I first brought Scaramouche here, I once said to you, 'Scaramouche is like a withered but not dead tree, a tree gnawed by insects but yet recoverable.' Was that why you placed him on the ground and watered him?"

"Isn't that how a tree is saved? By watering and fertilizing..."

Nahida shook her head, saying, "Scaramouche will not need those. But perhaps some music will soothe him.”

The suggestion of music piqued the Aranara's interest. They formed a circle around Nahida and Scaramouche and began playing music. The seal had been released. Despite the singing Aranara around him, he sat on the ground. When he glanced up, Nahida had vanished, leaving merely on the rock the meticulously tailored garment made for him.

 

-The End-

[eivuhekoi]

Eivu's Travels [Vintage Story; 8]

By messing around with the /help command, I found out that this game has a map. Using the /waypoint command, I added a marker so that I would never lose my base ever again.

I'm not sure if the torch I added at some point was helping at keeping the goblins at bay, since it seems that there's more of them on my mountain during the morning after it went out.

But not having a spear on hand is going to make removing them a lot harder. Hopefully making a ladder means that I can have a more safe passage.

I wanted to find out if the goblins were scared of torches, but at least thrown torches seemed to have no effect on them.

Also turns out that the dirt stair case does not cause fall damage for some reason, despite similar heights doing so previously.

Killing a goblin I found in a cave revealed that they have a chance to drop something called "Flax Fibers"

I am not sure if it's due to burning in sunlight, but the goblins seem to disappear from under my base during the day. I guess it could also be due to despawning as I have been quite a ways away.

My storage vessel had finished cooking, meaning that I finally had a place where Horace could not steal my valuable stuff. Now I only had to wait for the watering can, which I needed as soon as possible. During my earlier walking around, I had noticed that all of the turnips I had planted had died. Undoubtedly the work of Horace. That bastard.

My spruce sapling had also sprouted, and apparently would fully grow in 13 days.

I figured out that the earlier on fall damage on the dirt staircase happened because I was holding backwards. It seems that if you are falling next to a wall and walking into said wall, you don't take fall damage. An interesting glitch to say the least.

I encountered a weird red mist cloud, and being the coward I am, I promptly left the location.

What on earth is Horace planning? I must find a way to arm myself as soon as possible. That madman is not to be trusted. Especially since he seems to be messing around with the forbidden arts.

Using a combination of dirt blocks, wood-ladders and rope ladders, I made the journey up my mountain a little bit safer. When I got up to my fire-area, I was greeted by the sight of my watering can having finished being fired. Now I could plant my garden in location safe from Horace and his evil magics.

Turns out ladders are somehow more dangerous than what I had been doing previously, as when I tried to go gather water in the middle of the night, I managed to fall down a long distance and almost died. I decided that water was not worth dying over, and went back up to my fire-area.

While waiting for the night to be over, and for my health to regenerate, I prepared my coming farming area. So what once was the roof of my dirt-hut, has now become the start of my coming farm.

Light also probably has a hand to play in keeping the goblins at bay, as when I tried to go into my hut, I was taken of guard by one of them, but was thankfully able to escape back to my fire-area. Now I just need a way to keep a more permanent light down there, as torches extinguish themselves after 48 hours.

In my character screen, I noticed that the "Rift Activity" had turned from Calm to Low. I think that reddish mist cloud may have been a rift of some sort? Is Horace secretly the antagonist who summons rifts and when the activity gets high enough I just lose? I must stop Horace.

I found a way to get down my ladder of death, but due to the frequent need to switch ladders. it it is currently very iffy. I'm going to make it so that it is one single continuous ladder for ease of use.

I was also able to save the beets that Horace had killed earlier. That madman better stay out of my stuff in the future or I swear I'm going to-

I decided to touch Horace's funky red rift and it caused the entire world to turn red and a gigantic gear appeared on the horizon. It also caused the gear meter in the middle of my screen to lower considerably. Well, now there's only one thing left to try. Since here at Eivu's Travels, Experimentation isn't about why. It's about why not! So What happens when the gear goes to 0%?

Turns out it functions similar to the sanity meter in Don't Starve. The gear effect doesn't seem to go away and Weird Goblins are now afoot. Also my character is making more noises, probably trying to imitate the talking of a mad person. Given these things, I have decided that the appropriate name for the stat that the gear meter tracks is Gearanity. After lowering my gearanity again, it seems that the noises where made due to low gearanity causing the player to get periodically hurt.

The wind seems to be blowing harder now, and the rift activity has moved to medium. Are these things connected? Is this the beginning of a temporal storm? But most importantly, is Horace a Xerox?

Doing exploration, I ran into another of Horace's portals. They seem to be getting more plentiful. I made myself a raft and left

I set sail expecting a great wide sea. Unfortunately, all I have is this massive lake. And all I found was bears, and I would rather not become bear food. Hopefully I am able to move pick up and move this raft from body of water to another. It was quite expensive at 12 logs and 3 rope.

Picking up the raft was actually quite easy. Lucky me.

Back at home, I planted all the seeds I had and watered them with my glorious new watering can. I'd like to see you try to steal these, Horace.

Seems that torches are currently the best source of light for keeping away the goblins, despite going out. The other option at my disposal is a firepit, which requires more fuel and doesn't last as long. But it can be refueled, I am not sure if torches can be. The last torch only seemed to break when I tried to pick it up for lighting. It didn't drop a torch.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"Great "G. K." Stands Firm For Total Unemployment," Toronto Globe. October 3, 1930. Page 13. ---- LECTURES HERE ---- Chesterton Would Rather Be a Peasant Growing Turnips, in Ideal Distributist State, Than an Employee Under Mass Production System --- RUINS MATCHBOX BETWEEN CHUCKLES --- A gigantic figure, grey hair all mussed up, clothes likewise, tie askew, walked quietly into the room, found a chair and sat down. If G. K. Chesterton didn't mind being gigantic and joking about it - you remember the one about him giving four ladles his seat in a tramcar - we would never say that, sitting in the library of St. Michael's College last night, he was otherwise than a man who could give four ladies his seat in a tramcar. As he entered the room, Mr. Chesterton was - to no one's surprise - immense, impressive, formidable. There was a long silence. He drew a matchbox from the voluminous waistcoat, took out a match, broke it, and never lit his cigar. He talked. Mr. Chesterton wasn't impressive or formidable at all - just immense. He talked. He joked. He laughed at his own jokes. Every one joined in. Mr. Chesterton seemed to enjoy it most. Too Poor to Be M.P.'s Some one sald: "How is distributism getting on?" (Mr. Chesterton writes about it. It takes him ten pages to explain; it may be called 'peasant proprietorship.') "The movement is gaining very considerably," he replied, breaking the matchstick. "But it is difficult to say. There are hopeful distributists and hopeless distributists. Anyway, distributists are too poor to stand for Parliament." Mr. Chesterton joked.

[farlane]

Turnip Rock at Sunset

Turnip Rock is a beautiful, wondrous land formation off the coast near Port Austin.

Turnip Rock at sunset by Tom Clark Tom shares that Turnip Rock is a beautiful, wondrous land formation off the coast near Port Austin: The gigantic stone developed its signature look after millennium of being worn away by waves thumping across its bow. After being separated from the mainland in prehistoric times, Turnip Rock is an island inhabited by some trees and very little else. Turnip…

[allmichigan]

Turnip Rock at Sunset

Turnip Rock is a beautiful, wondrous land formation off the coast near Port Austin.

Turnip Rock at sunset by Tom Clark Tom shares that Turnip Rock is a beautiful, wondrous land formation off the coast near Port Austin: The gigantic stone developed its signature look after millennium of being worn away by waves thumping across its bow. After being separated from the mainland in prehistoric times, Turnip Rock is an island inhabited by some trees and very little else. Turnip…

[thelastofthebookworms]

Series C - Op's Favorites from the first series that didn't win their polls (1 per poll)

Series B - Polls' winners

Series A - The first polls

I was lamenting the fact that my favorites weren't always popular and that they won't make it to another poll but then I remembered that, actually didn't have to be true. You don't know how happy that silly little poll made me.

And am I doing this other poll only a few people would be able to answer to ? You bet.

Do things for yourself, no matter how small they are. You can pry my silly little polls from my cold dead hands.

[heyytalia]

Ugh, I’ve been obsessed with these new merch designs all day. These are my favorite, from Cabi-net. Fairy tale outfits!!! And they’re super cute.

I believe they’re based on (and correct me if I’m wrong):

Italy - Pinocchio

Germany - Town Musicians of Bremen

Japan -  Momotarō

America - The Wizard of Oz

England - Jack and the Beanstalk

France - Puss in Boots

Russia - The Gigantic Turnip

China - Sun Wukong (Journey to the West)

Super precious!

[coralcatsea]

We have a new official AU!

In the sense that Tsunotalia and the Circus AU are official, that is.

What I mean is we have designs:

Italy: Pinocchio

Germany: The Town Musicians of Bremen

Japan: Momotaro

America: Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz

England: Jack and the Beanstalk

France: Puss in Boots

Russia: The Gigantic Turnip

China: ???

_____

-The Town Musicians of Bremen is about four old, neglected domestic animals that run away to become musicians. At one point in the story, they stack themselves on top of each other to scare away robbers. My sister is actually the one who recognised this design, though she's unsure which character Germany is supposed to be. If anyone knows, please share!

-Momotaro is about a boy who was discovered in a giant peach by a couple. He was sent by the gods to be their new son, so they raised him, and when he matured, he went off to fight the oni who were raiding their land. After defeating them and taking their treasure, he returned home.

-The Gigantic Turnip is about a grandfather who plants a turnip that grows so large he can't pull it up. He gets a bunch of people to help him and at the end, it's the addition of the mouse's help (combined with everyone else's) that manages to uproot it. My other sister read this one in class.

-I actually thought France was from The Three Musketeers at first, but then I noticed the cat ears and tail, haha.

-Unfortunately, my sisters and I are not yet sure what China is from! Do any of you know?

[zerogate]

In his excellent book The Breakdown of Nations the maverick economist Leopold Kohr makes several stunning yet, upon reflection, commonsense observations. He points out that small states have tended to be far more culturally productive than large states, that all states go to war but that big states have disproportionately bigger wars that kill many times more people, and that by far the most stable and advantageous form of political organization is a loose confederation of states, each so small that none can dominate the rest. Kohr arrives at his conclusions by a process of reasoning by homology (viz. analogy) by analyzing many of the problems of modernity as different manifestations of the same underlying problem: the problem of excessive scale.

Most people can relate to the concept of optimal scale on an intuitive, visceral level; we know when something is abnormally big or abnormally small, and we tend to dislike abnormality. The exceptions, be they midgets or giants, are considered freaks. In living things, growth tapers off and stops when the organism has reached its optimum size. Pursuit of largest possible size is a quixotic one, like that of the farmer who tries to grow the largest-possible turnip. Terms like “jumbo shrimp” make children giggle. There was once a very successful and influential religious cult devoted to finding the optimum in all things: the Greek cult of Apollo, with its motto of μηδὲν ἄγαν — “Nothing in excess.” Excess is never without cost, excessive size is no exception, and beyond a certain point the cost of excessive size becomes exorbitant.

This point is lost on very few people, virtually all of whom happen to be politicians. For them, there is simply no limit to how big their nation-state should be allowed to become. When they think “bigger” they automatically think “better” and “more powerful,” in spite of much evidence to the contrary. Incapable of understanding the concept of first diminishing, then negative economies of scale, they cannot understand why increased defense spending results in more military defeats, or why increased spending on education causes ignorance to spread and test scores to plummet, or why increased spending on health care results in an increase in morbidity and mortality. In their headlong pursuit of “growth” they work themselves into the cul de sac of excessive size, a predicament from which there is no escape except through collapse.

Kohr defines the effect of excessive size using the Law of Diminishing Productivity: if one adds variable units of any factor of production to a fixed quantity of another, at some point the effect of adding one more variable unit will decrease productivity rather than increase it.

The best example of this law in action we currently have is with population as the variable unit and Earth as the fixed unit. Indications are that we passed this point some time ago, but the population continues to grow because, although productivity is being steadily diminished, it is still above zero. Kohr’s ideas lived on in the work of E. F. Schumacher and others, but they have failed to gain enough traction to reverse the march to gigantism, followed inexorably by collapse.

(...)

According to Kohr, the small state has much to recommend it, especially if it exists in a loose but relatively peaceful confederation with other small states, none of them large enough to dominate the others (bringing to mind the outsized influence of Germany in the European Union).

He points out that the smaller the sovereign group, the greater is each individual’s share of personal sovereignty. An Icelander’s share of state sovereignty is over four thousand times that of a Chinese: a sovereign giant compared to a sovereign dwarf. A sovereign dwarf is a mere statistic, a depersonalized average man and an embodiment of the god of collectivism, and such impersonal collectivism is, to Kohr, ignoble. To him, nobility (by which he means nobility of spirit) is never just “doing your job” in some abstract and perfunctory way, but engaging with each person, and democracy does not exist wherever a direct conversation between the ruler and any one of his subjects is no longer possible. To test whether you are living in a democracy, go and demand to see the president. If you find yourself questioned by the secret police and put under surveillance, or arrested and jailed, or put in a psychiatric hospital, then there is a teensy-weensy chance that you are not living in a democracy.

Although Kohr’s work can be read as a warning of the dire consequences of excessive scale at every level, it can also be viewed as a message of hope for the future. The waning of the industrial age is making the maintenance requirements of gigantic political entities impossible to meet, and as they decay, collapse and devolve into much smaller and more local entities, the world may yet see a rebirth of states small enough to grant their members a reasonable share of personal sovereignty. Some of them may even become able to aspire to true, direct democracy and find ways to renew themselves, whereas the larger states can now only blunder along, biding their time. Kohr tried to get at this hopeful vision with this charming quote from André Gide: “Je crois à la vertu du petit nombre; le monde sera sauvé par quelques-uns.” [“I believe in the virtue of the small number; the world will be saved by the few.”]

(...)

Here are some examples of dictatorial successes in holding non-viable nation-states together. The authoritarian Josip Broz Tito held Yugoslavia together and made it a pleasant place. Once it was left with-out his unifying presence, Yugoslavia descended into ethnic cleansing, genocide and civil war. Saddam Hussein succeeded in creating a prosperous Iraq out of disparate bits and pieces of the Ottoman Empire, with a large, thriving, well-educated middle class. Once he was over-thrown, the country (if it can still be called that) descended into civil war, and is now an impoverished ghost of itself characterized by misery and permanent unrest. Muammar Qaddafi achieved similarly stellar results for Libya, and was for a time regarded as an honest broker and a peacemaker throughout Africa. He launched communications satellites in an attempt to break France Telecom’s stranglehold on that continent.

But he was overthrown, and now Libya is a war zone and a dangerous place for Washington’s ambassadors. Hafez al-Assad (father of Bashar, the current dictator) held Syria together for thirty-odd years, but now it has descended into civil war.

Yes, dictatorship is at best problematic. But any nascent nation-state that decides to give democracy a try is sure to confront many problems as well. To start with, democracy is a tradition that cannot be conjured up on the spot or imported and installed like a piece of industrial machinery; it has to evolve in place. The best, oldest, most stable democracies have tribal roots and rely on direct democracy at the local level. A representative democracy is a degenerate case open to many kinds of corruption and abuse that may become bad enough to invalidate the entire project. In a representative democracy the electoral process involves forming national political parties which tend to become financially dependent on the dominant class in a process that disenfranchises those whose only ambition is to pursue local interests.

On the other hand, violent confrontations over votes are likely when the elected representatives represent specific districts. An attempt to institute granular political representation in an already weak state dominated by non-state actors is a prescription for political violence.

Add to this the fact that, in a heterogenous population, proportional representation gives the more powerful and numerous tribes the upper hand over the smaller, minority tribes, which do not readily accede to such an arrangement and look for opportunities to make mischief.

-- Dmitry Orlov, The Five Stages of Collapse

[drhoz]

#1832 - Brassica napus subsp. napus - Canola

More weeds growing at Lake Richmond. They were clearly a cruciferous vegetable, and the AgDept confirmed that they’re one of the biggest crops in the world. 

The word Canola was originally a Canadian trademark - "Can" from Canada and "OLA " meaning "Oil, low acid" - because the actual name of the plant - rape,  Rapeseed, or Oilseed Rape - was more than slightly problematic. Canola is a cultivar grown in gigantic quantities for the oil content of the seeds and reduced levels of erucic acid therein. Another subspecies, Brassica napus subsp. rapifera is grown for the roots, and is known as the rutabaga, or swede. Siberian kale (B. napus var. pabularia) used to be common as a winter-annual vegetable. 

But then Brassica is a ludicrously versatile genus, with various species, subspecies, hybrids and cultivars grown for their leaves, buds, florets, roots, stems, seeds, or even for ornamental purposes or walking sticks. At least six of the current species are the result of chromosome combinations from three earlier species - B. napus is a hybrid of Brassica oleracea (cabbage, broccoli, cauliflower, kale, Brussels sprouts, collard greens, Savoy cabbage, kohlrabi, and gai lan etc.) and Brassica rapa (a whole different set of vegetables including turnips, napa cabbage, bomdong, bok choy, and rapini).