#it's such transparently shallow and nonsensical writing

[tanadrin]

Yes, the details say it makes the most sense for our hero to be at the center of the action because of his relationship with the beacons, the Protheans, Vigil, and Liara, but it’s more dramatic if he’s central to the story because he’s a famous badass superspy who came back from the dead to Save Us All.

Yes, the details say that we should be working for the council, but it’s more dramatic to have us working for a mystery man with glowing robot eyes and a hidden agenda who has a crazy space-throne room that would strike Palpatine as “perhaps overdoing it a bit”.

Yes, the details say that improvements to the Normandy should be part of an in-between game retrofit, and that Cerberus as presented in the first game is barely able to run a lemonade stand much less act as a galaxy-spanning superpower, but it’s more dramatic to have the ship blown up in the opening and replaced by this shadow organization.

Yes, the details state that saving the entire galaxy from the Reapers should be our priority, but it’s more dramatic to fight against bug-faced collectors who are threatening humans, and kidnapping your friends.

Yes, it’s ridiculous that Joker and Dr. Chakwas would leave their highly respected positions with the Alliance and sign on with an actual terrorist organization with the blood of hundreds on their hands, and who may be personally responsible for the worst thing that ever happened to Shepard, but the story is so much more dramatic if our friends come along!

Yes, the details (and common sense) dictate that people ought to stay dead, but it’s so expedient to establish our new villain by having them kill the main character.

(You can put sarcastic scare quotes over the word “dramatic” in the previous paragraphs if you need to. It’s okay. I understand.)

So much of the debate here centers around whether or not these events “made sense”. How did a generic terrorist organization – one with no narrative build-up in the first game – bring someone back from the dead? How did they build this ship? Why did your loyal Alliance crew abandon their lifelong careers to work for this terrorist organization that was blatantly behind some atrocities that Shepard dealt with in the first game?

But these questions are a dead end. You end up arguing over codex entries, which are maybe kinda supported by other codex entries, and this one thing that guy says if you pick the right question on the dialog wheel. And if you do an item-fetch sidequest then Chakwas gives you a new excuse that’s slightly less implausible than the excuse she initially offers. And then there’s a link to some forum where some guy has constructed twenty paragraphs of fan-cannon that “explains everything”.

We act like this would be an acceptable way to start act 2 of a story and the only problem is that the writers forgot to properly fill out the right codex paperwork. But this approach to establishing a new status quo is brutal hack job with no sense of pacing, build-up, pay-off, or structure.

In the first game, the codex was a reward, a place where lore-hounds could go to get a deeper understanding of the world. In the second game, it was where they stuffed all their retcons and excuses for whiners who didn’t like working for terrorists instead of trying to save the galaxy.

(x)

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

Spider Webs Part 3 - König*Fem!Reader

Time to obtain your prize for winning.

content warning: 18+, mdni, footjob, taking photos, licking, office sex

part 1 part 2 bonus chapter 1

this series is literally my first time writing smut, I hope it isn't very bad. Thanks for reading :) ! (update: fixed some nonsense shit I miswrote)

König watched you from across the cafeteria.

You were chit-chatting with other assistants, legs crossed, and sitting in an elegant position, his eyes traveling down your figure, roaming through the heave of your chest, how you tuck your shirt neatly into your pants, to the curve of your ass.

He looked at you laughing at another colleague’s words, and swallowed the last bit of his lunch.

Just as he finished his food and started to stand up, his gaze flung to you once, and now you were looking at him.

You stood up too, and he froze at his place under your malicious smile, which only he could recognize, watching you look up at him like an obedient assistant.

“Colonel, May I bother you for a moment?”

You closed the door behind you and turned to face König.

“What’s the matter, Liebling?” He asked while sitting on his chair, you came close to his desk and stopped beside him.

“I don’t think you’re that stupid, colonel.” Your hand slipped under his hood, fingers caressed through his neck, up to his slightly chapped lips, and you felt goosebumps started forming on his skin.

His breaths became quicker, and you could see Adam’s apple bobbing as you lifted his hood to reveal his lips to your eyes.

“Finally made you lose, I should admit that you lasted much longer than I thought...” Your lips are just an inch from his, and your breath ghosted on his. “Excited, yeah? Ready to follow your assistant's orders?” 

You let out small laughter when you saw König nod quickly as if you would retrieve your wish if he didn’t answer immediately.

Stood on your tiptoe, you pulled yourself onto the desk.

“Take off my shoes and my pants.”

König obliged, carefully took your feet in his hand, pulled off your closed-toe shoes, revealing a part of your stockings, then hooked his fingers in the waistband of your pants.

At the same time, you swiftly unbuttoned your shirt and put it aside.

“Mein Gott...you wear these to work every day?” König gasped.

Under those boring and plain black clothes, you wore milky white lingerie. He noticed it was quite similar to the pair he stole from your closet, but it was more complicated, with two straps connecting your panties and stay-ups, and he could blurrily see your skin through the transparent garments.

“You like it, don’t you? It's the new design of the pair you took away from my closet.” 

You take a glimpse of his crotch, “Wow, so energetic.” You cheered.

In a swift move, you placed your feet onto his clothed crotch, making König let out a moan, which was no longer muffled because you secured his hood over his nose.

“No touching yourself until I give you orders, colonel.”

After warning him, your feet started rubbing over his covered shaft.

“Ahh... hmm...this is too...” He moaned out uncontrollably, whimpers and groans kept slipping out of him as you saw the khaki clothes of his cargo pants turning brown.

The precum leaked through his pants, stuck to your thin stockings, and you add a little pressure to his cock while maintaining the speed.

“Tell me does it feel good?” You ordered.

“Too gut, too...oh... right there...bitte” You rubbed your feet at the base of his cock, seemed like it did something to him, as König started whimpering and begging.

“I don’t think you have the authority to tell me what to do, König.” Although your words were mean, you still kept your foot around the spot making him moan louder and more frequently.

From how he breathed much shallow than before, you know you were gonna get the first load for today from him soon.

His eyes glued to your feet, mesmerized by how the silky sockings hugged your delicate feet and were stained by his precum, during strong pantings and watered vision, König heard your new order.

“Take it out now.”

Without a second of hesitation, he unbelted and pulled down his pants and boxers together, and he was pretty sure he needed to change a pair of them due to he made a huge mess on them.

“I'm gonna come... Schatz...Nein...! wenn du das weiterhin machst...!” (if you keep doing this)

Your pillow-soft thighs now became his new perfect armrests, he grabbed onto the part between your high knee sock and underwear, hard enough that you were sure he would leave red marks on your thighs, and you took a mental note to take a picture and send him when you get home.

“Give it to me, colonel.” You chuckled, the squeeze your toes did on his tip finally made him cum, and added more white to your already dirty-mess socks.

Your foot kept staying on his cock when he was still recovering from his orgasm, and you took out your camera, König watched you press down the shutter a few times, and turn the screen to him with a satisfied smile.

“These will definitely be at the top of my collection of you” 

On the screen, he can see the camera capture how his still half-hard cock stood proudly in the center of the photo, with your feet cling to it and surrounded by the mess he made.

“Now, clean the mess you left on my foot, colonel.” Next order came instantly when you put your camera back on his desk.

He complied, taking your left foot into his big hand first, his pink tongue darted from his mouth, licking diligently, from your big toe to your pinky toe, he left no drop of his semen on your foot, being a good colonel just like you wanted him.

The smile on your beautiful face never faded, staring with hot eyes at how his tongue cleaned up your left foot, and he changed to the other foot when there was nothing left on it.

You could tell he hadn’t done this before, but he was doing quite a good job as he lapped the last drop.

“I-Is this okay? Schatz?” König asked with little pantings leaving him, and you adored how the place around his mouth was sticky now before you opened your mouth, giving another order.

“Well done, König.” You pressed your index finger to his lips. “Now, tell me what you want for being a good doggy for me?”

“Ich möchte, dass du mich reitest, liebling, bitte...” He said, but you tutted. (I want you to ride me)

“Louder, colonel. How can I hear you when you say that quiet?” You fake a punished tone.

“Please! Need to be inside you, I want to feel you, bitte...” Much louder this time, he almost whined when your grin grew wider and shift onto his lap, and he put his hands to cup your ass immediately.

“As you wish, sir.” You lifted yourself, nudging your panties aside to line up his cock with your entrance, and you both let out a moan in sync when his cock sank down and hit the deepest part of your cunt.

His cock was fat and long, you always need some preparation before you can take him, but this time with the foreplay you do to König, you were already dripping wet, leaving a pool of mess with your juices on his desk, so it wasn’t really hurt when you just straightly took him this deep, instead, it gave you a bitter-sweet soreness.

“Can I move? Liebling?” His voice was just beside your ear, and you nodded and squealed when he started bumping into you with his waist moving at an inhuman speed.

“König...König...you’re too big, oh god, please...!” At this moment, you don’t care if others would hear you being fucked to a mindless slut by your colonel, you just scream in unbearable pleasure, and your voice intertwined with König’s moan and groan, filling the office.

Your eyes watered when you felt the familiar knot forming in your abdomen — the way only your König can give you — and in your peripheral, you saw König pick up your camera.

“What...ahh- what are you doing?” You asked when König pointed the camera at you two.

“Adding more collections to your wall.” Not dropping the pace, he clicked the button, a light flashed across your eyes, but you have no energy to care about that, shaking hard on his lap while he kept taking more photos.

“You cheeky bastard...fuck! ’m coming! hmm... König!” You cried out, and orgasm exploded inside you like a firework when König lifted you from his lap, and slammed you down to allow his cock hit the right spot inside your cunt.

“Let’s come together, Liebling.....Scheiße, so tight...!” Your walls squeezed König like a vice, with you milking him, he groaned lowly, and came in you after the final few thrusts.

You both sat in the same position for a few minutes, his arms hugged you close to him by your waist, and you huffed out a laugh when you finally gained the energy to take your camera from his hand and had a good look at those photos he took.

“They sure will be the best photos on your wall, Liebe “ He murmured, and kissed your earlobe.

“Can’t disagree with you this time, colonel.”

The picture on the screen captured how your cunt swallowed König’s red cock, your watering doe eyes looking at him, while he nipped at your neck to leave a hickey.

You totally had no idea how he could take such a good picture when he was not even looking at the screen, but you surely will print it out and hang it on the wall with a frame protecting it.

[acti-veg]

Do you have any idea of where to start when someone tries to counter you with “mushrooms have mycelium networks so they basically have brains like humans” I have no idea where I would even begin

Honestly with claims like this, rather than entertain what is clearly trying to get you to waste your time and effort on a position they don’t even hold, just them ask them to actually finish their argument.

Okay, so? What is your position? Is it that mushrooms are too intelligent to be eaten? Do you think mushrooms are as intelligent as pigs? Do you think that intelligence is what determines the moral value of an organism? Are you going to stop eating mushrooms alongside all other intelligent life and want to advocate that I join you in doing so, or was this just a shallow and transparent attempt to ‘catch me out’ by offering a position you don’t even believe in yourself?

Even if if you entertain this absolute nonsense with a fully sourced essay on why this makes absolutely no sense as a moral argument, even if you cover all the science on collective intelligence of organisms and comparative sapience, they’ll literally just pretend you didn’t even write anything and move on to to the next facile argument. There is no reason for them to bother defending it because they don’t believe it themselves, so they’ll just waste your time until they get bored or you block them. It isn’t worth the time or effort.

[alsoimjaebum]

We Fell In Love

Word count: +3k

Warnings: angst, sorrow, few bad words, suggestive, 16+, female!reader, mentions of alcohol and anxiety

Summary: You and Heochan have been good friends for a while, but you developed feelings towards him and, afraid of having your heart broken again, you might have made a bad choice.

A/n: Hey guys, it's me again! Sorry for not posting, I was lacking in ideas and I like to think twice before posting anything. Anyways, I'm happy to contribute with a writing for Chan. Hope you like this one! I made it with my whole heart and I guess this is my longest one so far! Have a good read!

The story is below the cut!

Feelings were not things you could explain. In fact, for you they were very difficult to demonstrate and you often walked away, trying to avoid them.

They were synonymous to problems.

At least for your old you.

It's not that you haven't had a crush before, of course you’ve had them. The point is about clearing, cutting off the feeling before it grew. It kind of worked. For a person like you, who has had her heart broken hardly before it was easier that way.

Maybe that's why this person was a complete puzzle for you. Heochan. Even his name sounded special. You didn't know what part of him caught you so bad, perhaps his beauty, his laugh, his charisma, his voice, his movements... In fact, there were plenty reasons why you could fall for him even without him trying anything.

Well, you were an idol in Plan M. It was absolutely normal to find some other idols hot and all, but that's not just it with him. It started as a friendship, but your behavior towards him suddenly changed. You constantly found your eyes looking for him in the room, you were always wanting to chat with him, send him messages... wanting to be with him.

This was scary, this was new. You were afraid, afraid of deep diving again in a relationship, afraid of losing yourself in him, afraid of disappointing. Afraid.

And, afraid of getting too involved, you decided to block him from your life. No, you didn't block him on social media or anything. You just didn't pick up, didn't read nor reply his messages, didn't like his photos nor comment. In short, you decided to stop seeing him.

Heochan tried hard, for three days in a row he kept on trying to get in touch with you, but you simply ignored him. Even though it was hard, you didn't want to feel down the same way you felt before. Yes, it was a little selfish, but your mental health was important and, now, you were sure having your heart broken would be an awful idea.

And with that, after these three days, he stopped messaging you. There weren't any updates on the fancafe either. You thought maybe he decided to hang out with someone or take his time to relax and slowly forget you. You felt a mix of relief and regret. You missed him, of course, but having feelings for your best friend is not something you could bare, specially if it was unilateral.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Maybe him?

You felt a tiny, little bit of hope.

Carefully, you decided to look into the peephole to find a bottle of soju covering your view.

-Maybe it is time for a drink? - was what your group member, Suyeon, asked.  You sighed, slightly frustrated, but what did you expect really? That he would crawl to you begging for you to answer him again? Obviously not. You opened the door and welcomed her.

-Wow, Y/n... Your house is a mess... - she commented, looking at the pile of books, clothes and food packages on the floor.

-Yeah, but I don't remember inviting you either - you replied shortly.

-Wow, how cold! Why are you like that? We will be soon preparing for our new album in what seems like an eternity. How long has it been since our last comeback? - She continued talking while sitting on the floor, in front of the coffee table in the room.

-I think seven months.

-You see? This is what happens to senior groups, we can no longer promote. We should be grateful for what we are getting.

-Suyeon, seriously... I'm not in the mood...

-I realized. And, in fact, I got it very well - your eyes went wide at that moment.

-What do you mean?

-Well... maybe if you have a drink I can tell you...

You sighed again. This was your drunk friend. Giving up, you took a cup and she poured you a shot. She touched her cup to yours and smiled.

-Cheers - you both said, but her voice was much happier.

-You know... We have been friends for... seven years...?

-More. It's been about ten.

-Wow, we're getting old - she said and you laughed at her comment - but you know, I spend more time with you than with my mom... you know me better than her and so do I. We are best friends and I know when you're hiding something important from me.

-Su, it's not... - you tried to cut her speech, because you didn't want to hear her talking over and over about how you should deal with your anxiety.

-I know. It’s that... I am always here for you... You can come for advice, to talk about your problems, to have a small talk. I am always here, but why don't you come with me? Hm?

-I don't know... - you muttered, knowing full well that she was right. She was always trying to make you feel lighter and most the times she did - I think it got harder to talk about me as time passed.

-I understand your point, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. You can rely more on me if it’s too much to carry by yourself. I’m always here, we can walk together and share the weight of our problems, okay? – you looked deeply at her eyes, which reflected the light and truth. Smiling softly, you nodded and she returned you with a grin.

-Thank you, thank you for being here – you hugged her tight – I should treasure you more – she laughed at your comment, patting your back – Still... can we not talk about me tonight? – you parted the hug, grabbing your cup for another sip.

-Of course. Then should we talk about him...? - she grabbed your hand that was resting on the cup and looked into your eyes.

-You... - you looked surprised at her, finally understanding that she knew it. - Oh, dear. You are so transparent. I'm pretty sure he is the only one who doesn't know it yet. And, really, he had already visited and asked all members about you - she giggled - It's pretty comic actually, he is all worried and here you are, blaming yourself again. Stop it. Live. Enjoy some.

-What are you talking about? – you questioned, simply don’t getting the meaning of her words together.

-Stop with this nonsense. I'm talking about Chan, Heochan. He is worried as fuck. He told me you decided to run away from him, not picking up calls nor messages, completely ghosting him. Poor thing. I can say he looked like a mess as well, maybe you two are really meant to be – she joked, poking your arm with her elbow. 

You were out of words. You expected him to be a little worried but not this much to ask all the members, since your group was a five girls group but all of them were living quite far from each other. 

-I know you like him and I know it's not just a shallow feeling. You really treasure him, so why are you worrying about what didn't even happen? Try it, isn't he worth the try? I know you are afraid, but will avoiding him and pretending you don't have feelings for him really fix everything? I don't think so, and you'll regret it in no time. What if He meets a cutie meanwhile and then you finally realize you wanted him? What would you do? Huh, I bet you don’t even want to think about it, but you should. While he still likes you, hold him. 

You gulped silently.

-What is this? – you asked, rubbing the corners of your lips, removing the rest of alcohol from them and getting more sober.

-An advice. No, a warning. It's almost a threat! - she spoke in fake fierce - Okay, but seriously, I worry for you and I want you to be happy. I've noticed that you genuinely smile at him and when he is the topic of our conversations, oh, you can’t hold your laugher and silly grins back. Don't let this happiness slip from your fingers like this. You deserve each other.

You took a deep breath, relieving the weight you had been carrying alone. Her words felt right.

-You're right.

-I'm always right. I know you better than anyone, even yourself.

You both laughed and you hugged her again.

-Should I text him now? - you thought out loud.

-Girl? You should run to him like... now!

You got up right away, running to your bedroom, getting some outfits from your closet, fixing you hair, putting on some makeup and, of course, brushing your teeth because you didn't want them to smell like alcohol.

-It's a date not a fashion fair! - Suyeon shouted to you from the living room.

-My life depends on it! - you shouted back

-It does not. He is already in love with you, don’t worry - she stated, raising the cup one more time and drinking another shot.

You took a last look on the mirror. You looked messy, but you didn't have the time to fix it. You grabbed your keys and were almost closing the door when Suyeon protested.

-Girl, how am I going home if you lock me in here?

-Aish! - you swore, rubbing your head while thinking, but you couldn't think straight at that moment - argh, just stay here, I have no time.

-But will you come back home tonight? - you blushed at her comment.

-You pervert!

-I'm realistic! 

-Ugh. Then, just sleep here today, it's not like you'll be able to drive back home anyways - you said back to her, looking at her drunk state.

-You won! Go, love bird, go! Take my car, but give it back tomorrow - she waved at you and you smiled and closed the door, running as fast as you could. At this point, you thought time was so slow that even running to her car on the other side of the street felt like ages.

When you reached it, you quickly entered and started driving to your company. Heochan always stayed behind to practice some more. He liked the silence of the building in the evening, because it helped him focus and he thought it was relaxing as well. Actually you two thought and did that, maybe that's why you were holding a big smile on your face while thinking about it. 

The green light showed up and you couldn't help but step further on the accelerator. After fifteen long minutes, you could see the so wanted building and some windows lighted. You looked for Victon's dance practice room and you found it on. A big grin on your face as you parked in front of the building, not caring if you'd get fined. You left the car in a hurry, opening the doors as fast as you could, going upstairs because you couldn't wait for the elevator. In fact, you couldn't wait anymore. 

All you wanted was to jump on Heochan and kiss him, you didn't even care if he was going to say he liked you back. Well, of course you were going to respect his decision, but the thing is that you weren’t afraid of being turned down. You felt the urge to see him again. Yet, when you reached the last degree, your stomach started to manifest and a nervous feeling ran down your whole body.

Would he like to see you here? After all the show you’ve put on? Maybe it wasn't a good idea. Maybe you shouldn't have come. Why did you even think you deserved to see him after all you made he go through?

The song was loud, but not enough to disturb people on the hallway. Suddenly, the sound halted and you froze. Still, you had no time to runaway anymore. Heochan had already opened the door and here you were, in front of your loved one after a long week far from each other. 

-What are you doing here? - he asked you. Even though his voice was still as sweet as always, you could sense in his tone that he sounded disappointed.

-I- I- I'm sorry. I'm so sorry - you stuttered at your words, part of it from the alcohol since you've always had low tolerance for it, but most because you broke into tears the moment you saw him and you felt too guilty to look at his face. You kneeled there, crying in front of him as you hid your face on your lap.

- What? What are you talking about? Hey, don't cry...  What happened? - he asked as he kneeled in front of you and patted your back.

-I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm... - you kept saying through your crying, he pressed his lips together, bringing you to his arms again, his warmth giving you the same comforting feeling as before.

-It's okay, you did nothing... - he softly mumbled back, trying to calm you down.

-No, I did... I did... I ghosted on you for... - you sniffed you nose - no reason! Just because I'm a coward person. I am afraid of feeling betrayed again and I can't even... I can't even be honest with you! - you stated. He did nothing but to keep on giving your nape light touches in hope you'd calm down and tell him what was wrong - I'm sorry... Can I be honest with you from now on? - you lifted your head, looking at him. He quickly wiped off your tears and held your cheek with his palm.

-Of course... - he said, his voice sweet, so sweet you thought your diabetes could react.

-I like you. No, I love you. And... I want you. I'm sorry for being selfish - you confessed. He looked surprised, you could tell by the way his brows went up and he stayed there with no reaction for long three seconds - It's totally okay if you don't like me back - you wiped away some tears, shifting the way you sat as you talked nervously - I'm okay, I just wanted to be real with you this time and...

-Wait, wait, wait - he cut you off, almost like he had woken up from his daydream - Are you telling me you avoided me this week because you had a crush on me? - he asked in disbelief.

-That's exactly what I told you. But really, it's okay if you don't like me back... – you kept on saying, not realizing that he had just understood what you said at that moment.

-No, no. Y/n. Are you serious? I was... I was so worried about you! I can't believe it... I thought you hated me.

-No, it's not that...

-Geez. If I didn't like you back, I would be the one who wouldn't be okay with this - he held you from your back and closed the gap between your lips. 

At first, you were so shocked, not expecting him to suddenly kiss you, but then you relaxed and gave in the kiss. His lips felt like magic, the one you’ve always wanted to try. Yours lips together felt like pieces of a puzzle, completing each other. The kiss, which started pure and passionate, quickly changed into a more sensual and hotter one.

It was long, like you wanted to feel through it the time you were apart. You separated to get a breath. Two big smiles adorning both of your faces as well as his dimples clear on both sides of his face.

-I love you. I love you. I love you - he confessed back, holding you into an embrace.

-I'm really sorry, Chan...

-Shhh, it’s okay. You don't need to. All I wanted was you here - he said, running his fingers through your hair - I missed you. 

-I missed you too... - you sighed, relieving the stress from before.

-Did you miss me that much to drink soju? - he questioned, broking the hug to stare at your eyes.

You blushed hard, covering your mouth with your hand.

-Could you taste it?

-Of course, it was strong - he laughed and you almost became a tomato.

-I'm sorry... Suyeon showed up with some bottles of soju and I...

-Oh... so you are blaming her now...?

-NO! - you protested, but then gave up - Aish. I hate you.

-Wow, feelings really change fast. You’ve just said you loved me.

-I'm taking that back - you put out your tongue, acting like you meant it.

-How stubborn! - he commented - Will my patience be enough to bare you?

-Will it?

You two laughed loud.

-I really love you - he hugged you again, but this time you thought you could take a revenge on his words.

-You are all sweaty! - you pretended to complain.

-Yeah... I was practicing when my baby just decided to show up and confess to me.

-Still... you are sweaty – you insisted, even though him calling you his ‘baby’ affected you.

-Well... don't you think it is sexy? - he suggested, smirking at you.

This was the second time you got red as a tomato. That's it. You couldn't win against him. He was too much, too much and your braincells weren’t keeping up with him.

-You're red as hell. Does that mean you really find it sexy? - he got closer to you, smirk still there.

-Ahh! Stop it! - you touched your cheeks in hope they'd go back to normal - Pervert!

-The one with wild imagination here is you - he said back and laughed at your reaction. Your ears becoming red like your face.

-You are mean.

-I'm sorry, but it's just too funny to tease you - he giggled.

-If you think you really know what turns me on, then why don't you do it instead of talking? Less words, more action - you demanded, pushing him back and sitting on his lap.

-Can I? – his tone got serious, but the stupid grin was still there.

-You ask? - You said back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and kissing him again.

You didn't even know where you got so much confidence to say that to him, but maybe Suyeon was right, you wouldn't be going home that night.

[brujahinaskirt]

As long as I‘m playing this game again I gotta do a little real talk venting at how poorly Beth understands racism despite recklessly endeavoring to write about it in their games. Beth can’t seem to delineate the specifics of real-world racism from their own fantasy racism. One of the biggest problems therein is that there’s no “whiteness” in TES, and yet so many of their parallels re: Nordic racism rely upon audiences conceptualizing Nords as white in a way that is often in direct conflict with the fantasy politics they’ve established in their games.

Time and time again, Beth continues to guide players into feeling a certain way about prejudices we see in the world by sloppily mirroring heinous racist sentiments against POC... except they then nonsensically proceed to VALIDATE these prejudices over and over and over. I’m not even sure if there are nefarious writers buried in the team who do this shit on purpose or if they truly just lack writing consistency and the validation is mindless. Either way, oversimplification + prejudice validation makes for an emotionally messy, contradictory, and incoherent narrative.

Let’s look at these game releases as stand-alone texts, since they’re sold to us that way, rather than as an enormous nebulously connected body of canonical lore (since we can’t assume players will enter the “texts” with an encyclopedic knowledge of canon). Just a few examples of reckless prejudice validation here. If we’re supposed to feel angry about the world’s typecasting of Khajiit as thieving drug dealers (a racist typecast we should be angry about), then why does Beth almost never introduce a Khajiit who is not both a thief and a crack cocaine sugar dealer? If we’re supposed to understand the Nords’ discrimination against elves as an allegory for the outrageous real-world panic of ill-intentioned white racists who claim white “culture” is being threatened, then WHY put the same Nords in a life-threatening state of REAL and URGENT military occupation where their culture actually IS being systematically obliterated through extreme state violence... perpetuated by a fascist trans-national coalition of elven supremacist mer whose design transparently draws upon real-world fascist government? Why are we not offered more access to Ulfric and Tullius’s true designs versus the propaganda hurled against each in turn? Given the lengthy lifespans of mer in comparison to the other playable racism of TES, why are the last two games damn near completely silent on their own fictional reality that the Dunmer nation proudly engaged in a massive system of chattel slavery of Khajiit and Argonians, one we saw front-and-centered in Vvardenfell, and something Vvardenfell characters broadly defended as an integral part of their culture? If memory serves, I think we see a single Dunmer character in the Imperial City openly reject the way her homeland treats these peoples. Since we see Dunmer and Argonians living in close proximity in Windhelm and are presented with barely-there hints of racial tension between them, clearly drawing upon competition for the real-world model minority myth, where is the cultural and emotional blowback of the Argonian sacking of Blacklight--on both sides? Some of these former slavers are sure to still be alive! Am I meant to understand the Dunmer as an oppressed race now in social status lock-step with the Khajiit and Argonians (an absurd claim to be making, if I felt at all certain that was even an intentional claim)? Beth, give me some consistent emotional cues on your world history!

If we’re supposed to understand the Nords’ rejection of Khajiit and Argonians and Dunmer as misdirected aggression against their actual oppressors, very much a real-world phenomenon, then why is this topic only given a feather-light brush in the Gray Quarter? (Speaking of, why doesn’t Beth let us see and experience the everyday Gray Quarter squalor we hear about? Why did Beth choose to make most of the businesses in Windhelm owned by mer instead of showing us the everyday experience of non-Nordic poverty in a Nord-run city? Why don’t we get to see and experience more everyday Thalmor military oppression? Why don’t we get to see and experience the everyday consequences of living under this bloated and failing empire... which, by the way, once turned its nose up and allowed a colonially conquered Vvardenfell to keep its slavery? It’s ultimately a failure to write racism meaningfully into the world beyond a thin overarching plot and scant lines of throwaway dialogue.)

And this is without even touching upon the low-effort way TES’s indigenous peoples like the Skaal and Ashlanders are depicted in the games. The entire discussion of racism is shallow puppetry. It’s all tokenism! It's a veneer of complexity -- a complexity that could be written into the bedrock of the world, but isn’t.

True, there’s a much bigger body of lore that exists outside and beyond the video games, but the majority of players can’t be expected to hunt all of this lore down and the marketing embraces this limitation. The writing should, too. If they want to commentate on (or even just explore with the dynamics of) real-world politics in their games, especially real-world racism, it’s on each individual piece of media to show us enough of this surrounding lore so that we can understand the parallels they’re trying to draw... and, more importantly, how we’re supposed to feel about it given the story we see vs. our own personal worldviews.

Mind, no writing team should spoon-feed us Humanities 101 morality or serve us a dumbed-down story just to repeatedly hit us over the head with their own personal manifesto. That sort of storytelling is rarely effective in getting people to think. But more often than not, rather than offering us consistent information and narrative depth we can then decide what to do with on our own, Beth leaves us to navigate these emotional questions solely by drawing upon our own pre-existing feelings about real-world racism -- a real-world that simply doesn’t align with the fantasy world they’ve established. When that happens, our feelings don’t get challenged or meaningfully mirrored or refined -- which is the very point of making such overt political parallels in the first place.

[chiseler]

Neg Sparkle #8

“Neg sparkle" is a kind of film damage manifesting as twinkling constellations on the image. This column is about a different kind of film damage, the mental havoc wrought by overindulgence in cinema, though I hold out the possibility that a human being so afflicted may be in some ways better than the normal kind.

"I'm just a storyteller, and the cinema happens to be my medium. I like it because it recreates life in movement, enlarges it, enhances it, distills it. For me, it's far closer to the miraculous creation of life than, say, a painting or music or even literature. It's not just an art form; it's actually a new form of life, with its own rhythms, cadences, perspectives and transparencies. It's my way of telling a story."  Federico Fellini.

"I'm a big fat liar." Also Federico Fellini. The late Buck Henry credited Fellini, in interviews, with spouting "all sorts of lies and nonsense that he can't possibly believe," but it might be amusing to take him at his word. Is cinema a new form of life? It might explain much.

If this is true, are the characters in films living, breathing people? We SEE them breathe, move, and blink, even when they're supposed to be dead: check out Scatman Crothers' flickering eyelid JUST at the moment the arch-perfectionist crash-zooms in on his supposed corpse in The Shining. But we know they're played by actors (or some form of animation, sometimes synchronized to an actor's voice. We know Scatman Crothers went on acting for several years after his character, Dick Halloran, was axed to death. But we also know that Dick Halloran continues to show the Torrence family around the Overlook Hotel decades after Scatman Crothers died from pneumonia and lung cancer. So who was granted immortality?

But movie characters borrow their life from the words on the page and the bodies and voices and talent of the actors embodying them. Does the camera steal the soul, as some Native Americans are alleged to have believed? If so, the motion picture camera allows the soul to stretch its legs in its prison. But wouldn't any sentient being become terribly bored, forced to play out the same role, ad infinitum? Jeremy Brett, typecast as Sherlock Holmes and suffering from manic depression, threw himself on the pavement of Baker Street and begged the shade of Sherlock to release him from bondage. Still, I suppose it wouldn't be so bad if you were trapped in Ordinary People or something. Who watches that anymore?

The Shining, then, is a fortuitous film to have started with (I haven't planned any of this) since it depicts a building full of ghosts perpetually reenacting moments of their lives from the 1920s. From time to time, new spirits are recruited from the living through some kind of unseen casting process, but once they've been scooped up, they've always been there. The film could be a metaphor for any film, a self-contained unit of characters doomed to enact dramatic moments, on a loop, forever, 'n' ever, ever.

Still, one would expect that, out of sheer desperation or exuberance, occasionally a character would depart from the script, change a line reading here, a reaction shot there. And we do have testimony that this sometimes happens.

The premier of Double Indemnity. Billy Wilder was a worried man. He'd already recut the film after a disastrous preview (ironically enough, cutting out the scene of ghosts at the morgue). But he felt that in a crucial scene when Fred MacMurray is unexpectedly visited by Edward G. Robinson while waiting for Barbara Stanwyck (who mustn't be seen by Robinson!) he should have directed MacMurray to anxiously look towards the door. But he forgot, and they had no shots where the actor so much as glanced in that direction.

Convinced the tension of the scene would be lost if MacMurray didn't look, Wilder went to the synagogue and prayed. And, at the premiere, as he later related to Volker Schloendorff (on film), MacMurray obligingly DID look towards the door.

Spooky. But spookier still, in no screening I've attended does MacMurray look doorwards. He only did it the once, to please Wilder. But the scene retains that needed tension.

But maybe not. I'm not a candidate from Room 237 yet. Maybe we should think of individual characters as alive, but individual films. We all have our favorites, don't we, just like with our children. Yes we do. Stop shaking your heads. They latch on to us like parasites. And, as we grow, the film seems to change with us, acquiring new depths and resonances, or sometimes exposing a shallowness or staleness not apparent before. Films are said by some (not me) to date, despite the fact that supposedly they don't change at all.

When we view a beloved film, we're taking something from it, but is it taking something from us, too? Ninety minutes or so of our lives, certainly. Our attention, our emotions. This is how it feeds. Like the ancient gods, movies exist by taking up our time and devotion. Otherwise they're just reels of celluloid, videotapes, or a lot of 1s and 0s. I might be at my most alive when watching a film (a shameful admission) but it's at its most alive while being watched, and we exist in a perverse relationship of voyeur and exhibitionist.

But there is a third, more ominous possibility. Cinema as life form. Not the characters in the films, or the individual films, but cinema as a whole. A single vast organism made up of seemingly independent units, like a coral. If the great barrier reef is, as of this writing, the largest life form on earth, cinema could be even larger as it exists in a universe of its own. Not the MCU, but something vaster, less stupid. As the postmodernists would have it, all our cultural creations coexist in the same vast mental space, so that Sherlock Holmes might investigate the murder of Dick Halloran and accuse the Overlook Hotel of being an accessory before the fact.

Cinema, in fact, certainly exhibits many more of the attributes of life than anything that's not life. Life, but not as we know it. A strange and alarming form. It is ever-expanding. New cells, or "films" are accreted every year. More actors die, to live on only within the cinemascape. More audiences are sucked in, giving up their lives and adoration. It grows, it consumes, a vast, multi-narrative genre hybrid, swallowing all in its path. What happens when it's bigger than the universe that spawned it?

by David Cairns

[minaminokyoko]

Men in Black: International--A Spoilertastic Review

Disclaimer: I AM FUCKING BIASED AS HELL.

Ahem.

That's important to announce.

If you at all follow me, you know I am one of the harshest critics of fiction simply because I do this shit for a living professionally, so not only do I know what to look for, I know when I'm being duped.

I knew going in that MIBI was going to be bad.

But.

I fucking love Chris Hemsworth and Tessa Thompson.

So here's the thing: this is a bad, lazy sequel. It's no worse than just your average bad, lazy sequel to a beloved franchise. You've seen these kinds of movies a dozen times and you'll see them a dozen more.

And I think the people making the movie knew that, and that's why they hired Hems and Tessa.

Damn near every moment of these two darlings together is fun as hell.

And everything else is basically trash.

Therefore, it's a battle between my critic brain and my goblin brain.

My critic brain hates the movie. My goblin brain thinks it was harmless fun. So please take that into account for my overall opinion on the flick.

So here we go. Naturally, spoiler alert.

Overall Grade: C-

Pros:

-Let my shallow ass get this out of the way first: DEAR FUCKING GOD CHRIS HEMSWORTH IS A MOTHERFUCKING WALKING, TALKING BUFFET GOOD LORD AND ALL HIS ANGELS HE IS JUST BREAKFAST, LUNCH, DINNER, AND FUCKING DESSERT AND I WANT HIM TO JUST SLAM ME AGAINST EVERY WALL IN THIS HOUSE AND TEAR ME APART HE IS WALKING AROUND IN A FUCKING SUIT THE ENTIRE MOVIE AND HE JUST. LOOKS. SO. FUCKING. DELICIOUS. IT'S. NOT. FAIR. THAT SMILE AND THOSE EYES AND HIS CHIN AND HIS PECS AND HIS ABS AND HIS LEGS AND HIS ARMS AND JUST FUCKING BURY ME IN THE DESERT FOREVER BECAUSE I WANT HIM SO BAD KILL ME DO IT. THE THIRST IS REAL AND IT SHALL NEVER BE QUENCHED.

-Ahem. There. Now then, literally the biggest and only selling point in this movie is the insanely good chemistry between Tessa Thompson and Chris Hemsworth. It's damn near as good as them in Thor: Ragnarok. As I said above, I really think the filmmakers took one look at this "script" and they knew goddamn well they had nothing at all. It's dripping with cliches and tired ass ideas and lack of imagination, so they knew the only way to get it made was to have two utterly charming actors who play extremely well off each other, and that is Tessa and Hems. These two are having such a good time that you actually can't help but have a good time despite the fact that you are watching a completely LAZY fucking movie. Agent M and Agent H aren't fully formed characters at all, but their interactions are a sheer delight. They play off each other beautifully and even when the movie is vomiting yet another cliche at your feet, you can't help but still enjoy the two of these doofs. It's the movie's only saving grace. I shit you not, if it were any other pair of actors, I would give this movie an F. No lie. Tessa and Hems saved the film, hands down, no contest, because they're charming and cute and you want them to be together. It's like the movie is a shit-covered diamond--the shit is everything around them, and Tessa and Hems are the diamond in the shit. You gotta stick your hand in something gross to get the valuable thing out of it, and it is for this reason I would tell people to just rent this movie. It's so not worth box office pricing, but it is worth a look-see because the two of them are a blast to watch, honestly. And do yourself a favor and look up some of their interviews too. They are cute as a button together.

-The only creativity that I saw was the faux villains and the final Hive monster, basically, but said creativity was eye-catching. It was a unique concept to see these sort of celestial beings and they were captivating each time they were on screen. Their powers were very, very cool. The final Hive monster is nothing new if, like me, you watch or play a lot of video games, but it did still have a great presence and felt extremely alien and threatening and scary.

Cons:

-Literally everything else about this movie blows. Fucking. Everything.

-The dialogue for the most part is tired. It's so tired. It's loaded with dull one-liners. Sometimes I think scripts mistake quips with actual jokes. These characters have almost nothing of interest to say in the whole film, and mind you, I do know that sounds like it makes no sense, but it's true. Almost every interesting thing about these characters is off-screen. Seriously. The backstories sound way more interesting than what's presented, and do you know why? Because this fucking movie TELLS YOU EVERYTHING. There is almost NO showing. It doesn't hit any emotional bits. It just loudly announces them like my favorite bit from Futurama: "You can't just have your characters announce how they feel! That makes me feel angry!" That's the biggest problem here. There are Captain Obvious statements fucking everywhere, and what's worse is any emotional beats of connection are also loudly announced in cliche fashions and there's almost no weight given to M or H as characters as a result. It's just noise. Most of the dialogue in the movie is white noise you don't at all need to hear.

-All the cool shit about M and H is withheld. We understand M's motivations just fine, but H's are not dealt with, and that's frustrating because he seems to be fascinating offscreen. For example, being the dude that saved the world might be big shoes to fill and he seems as if he was having trouble coping, or he got a big head from the experience and got sloppy because he was the golden boy. In the hands of an actual competent writer, this could have really, really worked well. But they skip over it. Over and over again, this lazy ass movie skips shit we should have seen, like M growing up trying to tell everyone what she saw and being ridiculed. I wanted to see her long search for MIB. I wanted to see her learning to hack and investigate like Harriet the Spy or something. It could have been a great, compelling way to feel like I understood her, because I would have been the same way. I love that H was just a big old goober, playboy with a heart of gold, and I wanted to see the two of them get closer than they did. H's "big old heart" speech was hella charming. So charming. I like that soft smile he gives her when he talks about the universe being one big chemical reaction. That was a real moment, and sadly, it's one of the few we get with the two of them because the movie is in such a rush to get to the next action sequence. But, hey, if I'm being honest, I only saw this movie so I had full permission to write a zillion fanfic chapters shipping them, so I will just bloody fill the gaps in myself.

-This movie is so goddamn fucking predictable it gave me a headache. Hey, remember the trailer? Well, there. You saw the movie if you saw the trailer. You're sitting there going, "They can't possibly be this boring and transparent about Liam Neeson being the bad guy, can they?" Yep. They fucking can. It is so obvious that I would argue this might be an MIB movie for kids. The whole thing spoonfeeds you every bit of info. There is no mystery and no surprises period. It makes you want to bang your head on a wall with how obvious every single story beat is.

-The ending is nonsensical bullshit. There, I said it. Fuck you, movie. You don't get to try for the emotional wham of separating the partners because you didn't properly make them fucking partners. J and K's bittersweet ending made sense because the two of them went through HELL together, and while they bickered, they liked each other. The other thing is that their skillsets matched their actions at the end. K was exasperated and tired, but he was a good teacher and he knew J loved the job. J was the job, and that fit his character. K had been through years and years of battles, and he needed to rest, and that fit his character. Slapping H with the role of director does not fit his character. We see him as a rough and tumble cowboy type of agent. He parties and he smiles and he kicks ass. What the fuck about that makes you think he should be in charge when Agent C is like right there? I actually sat there waiting to see if they had a post credit scene that undid it because it made NO SENSE. The only reason they busted up the partners was an attempt to echo the original movie. That's fucking it. There is no reason that Agent M can't stay in London, and there is no reason Agent H would accept the leadership position when he's all about fun times and explosions. It's a load of crock and I do not accept it at all, so you'll see me rewrite that shit in fanfics as well.

-All of the above adds up to the final point that this is definitely an unworthy sequel to the original. Not MIB 2 or 3, mind you. I hated MIB 2 so much it made me not watch MIB 3, and from what I hear, MIB 3 was marginally better but still not good. The movie is doing new things, and yet it feels a lot like a small child trying on his dad's shoes, for God's sake. It literally stops entire scenes to fellate the original movie with cameos and borrowed plotpoints or references, and it takes you out of the experience. There's nothing unique about this movie except for who is starring in it. That's the tragic part. I had a good time, but in the end, it just reminds you how far we've fallen and why Sonnenfeld should have been the one to handle this sequel. He had a very, very sharp creative mind and that's why MIB is in its own category as an action-comedy. It was clever and interesting and it actually made you care about your leads, and it didn't rely on nothing but a cliche storm. So I am sad that it's not going to do well at the box office and I'm sad it wasted two extremely talented actors on a sad, boring project that isn't worthy of the name it's using, but at the same time, I signed up for this, so oh well.

In the end, this is a movie that would be intolerable but it's got two strong leads that keep you smiling anyway. I cannot recommend it at all unless you are a die-hard Hems and Tessa fan the way that I am. If you are, hey, you'll still be annoyed at how lazy it is, but you'll get a giggle out of them being cute as hell. There are raw materials in this movie that are in fact good, but it's all carried out sloppily as possible, and that's truly a shame.

Here's to all the fanfiction my stupid ass is about to write.

Kyo out.

[distant-rose]

Ro’s Gigantic Masterpost of Pirate Information (That No One Asked For)

Notes: Hi folks! It’s me again! I should be writing shitty fan fiction but instead I’m trying to do you all a solid and share all the notes I’ve compiled on pirates and piracy over the course of outlining and writing Beth’s segment of my LP series. I won’t link you to it, but if you like OUAT, Captain Swan and semi-realistic original characters I suggest giving it a shot. Anyway, I’m a fucking nerd who does way more research that most people do for their dissertations on fan fiction of all things. However, along with being a nerd, I try to and constantly fail to be a good person and be transparent with my research so you can not only understand my thought process but use it yourselves. So, without further ado, I give you my master post on all the pirate information you need to possibly write pirate fanfiction.

PARTS OF A SHIP

Aft (or abaft) - At, in, toward, or close to the rear of the ship

Amidshop – the middle of aship

Ballast – Heavy material that is placed in the hold of a ship to enhance stability

Beam - A piece of timber perpendicular to the sides of a ship which supports the deck. Also used to identify objects in relation to objects perpendicular to the ship that are visible from the port or starboard side.

Bilge – 1) The lowest part inside the ship, within the hull itself which is the first place to show signs of leakage. The bilge is often dank and musty, and considered the most filthy, dead space of a ship. 2) Nonsense, or foolish talk.

Bilge water - Water inside the bilge, sometimes referred to as "bilge" itself.

Bittacle - A box on the deck of a ship holding the ship’s compass.

Boom - A horizontal pole along the bottom edge of a mast to which the mast is fastened.

Boom Chain - A chain or other obstacle strung between two points across a body of water to impede navigation, sometimes strung between a boat and shore.

Bow - The front of a ship.

Bowsprit - The slanted spar at a ship's prow jutting out in front of the ship. It is usually used as a lead connection for a small navigational sail.

Broadside - A general term for the vantage on another ship of absolute perpendicular to the direction it is going. To get along broadside a ship was to take it at a very vulnerable angle. This is of course, the largest dimension of a ship and is easiest to attack with larger arms. A "Broadside" has come to indicate a hit with a cannon or similar attack right in the main part of the ship.

Bulkhead - A partition or dividing wall within the hull of a ship.

Cablestore – Lowest storage section, often hidden and used for contraband

Crow’s Nest - A small platform, sometimes enclosed, near the top of a mast, where a lookout could have a better view when watching for sails or for land.

Focsle (Forecastle) – 1) The section of the upper deck of a ship located at the bow forward of the foremast. 2) A superstructure at the bow of a merchant ship where the crew is housed.

Gangplank - A board or ramp used as a removable footway between a ship and a pier.

Gangway - 1) A passage along either side of a ships upper deck. 2) A gangplank. 3) An interjection used to clear a passage through a crowded area.

Gunwale (gunnel, gunwall) - The elevated side edges of a boat which strengthen its structure and act as a railing around the gun deck. In warships the gunwale has openings where heavy arms or guns are positioned.

Helm - The steering wheel of a ship which controls the rudder.

Hold - A large area for storing cargo in the lower part of a ship.

Hull - The body of a ship.

Jacob’s Ladder - A rope ladder with wooden rungs used to access a ship from the side.

Keel - The underside of a ship which becomes covered in barnacles after sailing the seas.

Killick - A small anchor, especially one made of a stone in a wooden frame.

Lee - The side away from the direction from which the wind blows.

Mizzenmast - The largest and, perhaps, most important mast. It is the third mast or the mast aft of a mainmast on a ship having three or more masts.

Poop deck - The highest deck at the stern of a large ship, usually above the captains quarters.

Main - The longest mast located in the middle of a ship.

Port - The left side of the ship when you are facing toward her prow opposite of starboard).

Prow - The forwardmost area of the ship.

Quarterdeck - The after part of the upper deck of a ship.

Rigging - The system of ropes, chains, and tackle used to support and control the masts, sails, and yards of a sailing vessel.

Rudder - A flat piece of wood at the stern of a ship that dips into the water and is used for steering. The rudder is controlled at the helm.

Scuppers - Openings along the edges of a ship's deck that allow water on deck to drain back to the sea rather than collecting in the bilge.

Scuttle - 1) A small opening or hatch with a movable lid in the deck or hull of a ship. 2) To sink by means of a hole in a ships hull.

Stern - The rear part of a ship.

Starboard - The right side of the ship when you are facing toward her prow (opposite of port).

Sternpost - An upright beam at the stern bearing the rudder.

Tack - 1) The lower forward corner of a fore-and-aft sail. 2) The position of a vessel relative to the trim of its sails. 3) The act of repositioning a sail in order to change which side the wind catches it.

Transom - Any of several transverse beams affixed to the sternpost of a wooden ship and forming part of the stern.

Yardarm - 1) Either end of a yard of a square sail. 2) The main arm across the mast which holds up the sail. The yardarm is a vulnerable target in combat, and is also a favorite place from which to hang prisoners or enemies. Black Bart hung the governor of Martinique from his yardarm.

DIFFERENT TYPES OF SHIPS

Bark - Bark (or Barque) were light and fast ships with a shallow draft. Because of its small size and a specific design, the pirates favored and often used bark. It usually carried at least three masts. They were all rigged with the square sails, except on the mizzen-mast, which was rigged with the fore-and-aft sails. This type of ship was the most popular in the 19th century. An average capacity of a bark was 500 tons and she could carry up to 100 men. Barques were also designed with four or five masts, and those versions had much higher capacity. A bark was also mentioned as a general term for any small-sized ship.

Brigantine (Brigs)*** - The brigs were quite small ships, one of the smallest in a long period, with only 150 - 250 tons of capacity. Therefore, they were extremely fast. The other advantage was that brig had supreme maneuver abilities. Ship required a lot of skilled men to control it. It contained two masts, both square rigged. They were mostly used as the merchant ships, but sometimes even for a war purposes. The brigs were very similar to the snows and brigantines, but with some varieties. While brigantine's fore-mast was also square rigged, basic difference was that the main-mast carried fore-and-aft sails. This was the big advantage because a brigantine sailed fast in every possible wind condition. There was also a hermaphrodite brig (brig-schooner) which was almost identical to a brig, except the main-mast was lateen-rigged.

IT IS IMPORTANT TO NOTE THAT IS THE SHIP TYPE OF THE JOLLY ROGER.

Caravel - Probably the most used ship of the 15th century, but also used in the 16th and 17th. The original, Mediterranean version, was lateen rigged (the sails shaped like triangle) on the two masts. Later, Spanish and Portuguese developed caravel into a three-masted shipwith the first two masts square rigged and lateen rigged on the mizzen-mast. Some caravels even had four masts. They were small sized ships (from 80 to 130 tons), about 75 feet long. They were also highly maneuverable. Because of a shallow hull, the caravels were mostly used for a long voyages and the exploration of the African coast. Sometimes they were mounted with the guns and used as a warship. A big weakness was a lack of cargo capacity and the small living quarters. Even Christopher Columbus used two caravels for his famous expedition in 1492. One of them was his famous flagship, the “Santa Maria”.

Carrack - It was most popular at the end of the 15th and in the 16th century. In the beginning carrack were used mostly as a merchant ship. However, in the 16th century, it was upgraded with all new equipment to prevent pirate's attacks. Carracks were first ships with the guns mounted low in the hull. Such powerful and well-armed ships were used as the warships. An example was King Henry VIII's “Mary Rose”. They were the largest ships in that period, usually over 1,000 tons. A carrack sometimes had two or four masts, but usually was three-masted, first two square-rigged and lateen rigged on the mizzen-mast. As a carrack developed, the topsails were added on the main-mast and the fore-mast. This ship also featured a high forecastle and stern which allowed big crew and large fighting tops. The carracks were mostly used by the Spanish and Portuguese and they were similar to the galleons and caravels.

Dutch Flute - Dutch flute was the most seen in European waters in the beginning of the 17th century. The ships were usually three-masted with first two square-rigged and lateen rigged on the mizzen-mast. With a very large capacity for its size, this ship was most common cargo carrier in that period. The other advantage that Dutch flute had over the other ships was a low expenses and big benefits. They were inexpensive to build and required a small crew. The pirates favored to attack this type of ship because it was lightly armed or even unarmed. Dutch flute's weight was around 300 ton, and they were generally 80 foot long.

Frigate - the first frigates appeared in the 17th Century. It was a medium-sized class of a warship with an average weight of 1,000 tons. They were three-masted ships with the square sails, raised forecastle and quarterdeck. Also there were 24 to 40 mounted guns on a two and a half gun decks. The advanced, two decked versions had up to 70 guns. There were many purposes for the frigates like escort, patrols, scouting, shore bombardment… They were also used to hunt and defend against the pirates and privateers. Inside a ship, there was a space usually for 50 to 200 crewmembers. A big advantage of those ships was speed and great maneuverable abilities for its size, but the frigates could not stand a chance in the engagements against the larger warships like a ship-of-the-line.

Galleon - The galleons were designed and developed by Spanish during the 15th to the 17th century. The galleons were used as a treasure and merchant ships as many others used in that period. However, many pirates were attracted by their large cargo, so they were armed well and sometimes they had been used as the warships. It was a large ship with an average capacity of 500 tons, and had a great speed for its size. Most galleons have three masts, two square rigged with a lateen sail on the stern-most mast. Two or more gun decks were also included with 70-100 guns. The poop deck was raised high and a crew counted 200-400 sailors. People say that galleon was the evolution of a caravel and was more maneuverable.

Galley - Galley had a long history, dating back to the ancient times. They were used widely by the pirates of the Barbary Coast in the Mediterranean in the 15th and the 16th century. They were usually long and lean, with one or more masts rigged with the lateen sails. However, the main source of speed didn't come from the masts. It came from the oars rowed by salves or convicts below the flush deck. A galley had a shallow draft and only one deck. There were only few guns mounted because the attacks were usually based on manpower. Therefore, 100 or more pirates were always ready to overpower the other crew. Perhaps the most famous one was the “Adventure Galley”. It was made in England for Captain William Kidd's privateering work in 1695.

Schooner - A schooner could reach up to 11 knots in the right conditions, carried up to 75 crewmen and had 8-12 guns. All those features enabled the pirates to navigate easily in shallow waters and shoals, allowing them quick escape or to attack suddenly. There were usually two-masted, but also there were versions which had three or four masts. All masts were fore-and-aft rigged. A disadvantage was that schooners had limited cruising range.

Ship of the Line - These gigantic overpowering warships were certainly the most powerful ships from the 16th to the 18th century. They were similar to frigate in design, but also very expensive and luxurious. Many skilled sailors were required to control that enormous ship. There were usually over 850 men aboard. More than 100 guns were mounted on two, three or even four decks. Their weight was around 1,000 tons. Like many other ships in that period, ship-of-the-line had 3 masts. The fore-mast and main-mast were always square-rigged and the mizzen-mast was sometimes rigged with fore-and-aft sails. The modern battleships have been associated with this type of ship.

Sloop - Despite it was a small ship, a sloop was certainly the most popular ship among the pirates. That's because they were fast (11 knots), highly maneuverable, and have a shallow hull. The sloops easily sailed over shoals. They were fast even without the wind because of a few pair of oars. That's why a sloop made a perfect fit for any quick pirates' action. It usually had only the main-mast which was fore-and-aft-rigged. Sloop was rarely two masted. There was also at least one jib before mast. A crew usually contains up to 75 men and 14 guns. Length was 60 feet and weight around 100 tons. The naval sloop was a bigger version which was upgraded with more guns for the military purposes.

Snow - A snow had been the largest two-masted ship for many centuries. His weight was around 1000 tons. As almost an identical ship to a brig, snow carried the square sails on both fore-mast and main-mast. A snow was also equipped with an additional trysail mast (used during storm to keep a ship from the wind) which was behind the main-mast. These ships were used for both, battle and merchant purposes. Usually around 80 seamen were boarded. A battle version (Naval Snow) was larger and better armed for the military purposes. Up to 10 cannons were mounted on only one gun deck. Mainly used by the British, this type of the ships was commonly employed by Royal Navy for a pirate hunting.

ATTACK TACTICS

Pirate ships usually carried far more crew than ordinary ships of a similar size. This meant they could easily outnumber their victims. Pirates altered their ships so that they could carry far more cannon than merchant ships of the same size. Stories about pirate brutality meant that many of the most famous pirates had a terrifying reputation, and they advertised this by flying various gruesome flags including the 'Jolly Roger' with its picture of skull and crossbones. All these things together meant that victims often surrendered very quickly. Sometimes there was no fighting at all. It's likely that most victims of pirates were just thrown overboard rather than being made to ‘walk the plank’.

NOTABLE POSITIONS ON A CREW

Captain - Unlike in the Royal Navy or merchant service, where the captain was a man with a great deal of experience and complete authority, a pirate captain was voted on by the crew and his authority was only absolute in the heat of battle or when giving chase. At other times, the captain's wishes could be dismissed by a simple majority vote of the crew. Pirates tended to like their captains to be not too aggressive and not too meek. A good captain had to know when a potential victim was too strong for them, without letting weaker quarry get away.

First Mate - The first mate is customarily a watchstander and is in charge of the ship's cargo and deck crew. Mediator between Captain and Quartmaster. Nominated by the Captain. Often acts as the ship’s financial officer/purser

Cabin Boy - A boy (in the sense of low-ranking young male employee, not always a minor in the juridical sense) who waits on the officers and passengers of a ship,especially running errands for the captain.

Navigator - Officers in charge of navigation and piloting. It was a very hard job because charts in those days were usually inaccurate or nonexistent.

Quartermaster - Pirates during the Golden Age of Piracy elevated the rank of quartermaster to much higher powers and responsibilities than it had aboard any merchant or naval vessel. The quartermaster was often granted a veto power by a pirate ship's "Articles of Agreement", in order to create an officer who could counterbalance the powers of the pirate captain. Pirate quartermasters, like pirate captains, were usually elected by their crews.

Boatswain - Junior officers. They were people who supervised all activities on a ship. Depending on the size of the ship and crew, they could have one or several duties. Duties ranged from anchoring to naval provisions. They reported to the Quartermaster or the Captain.

Cooper - Wooden barrels were very valuable, as they were the best way to store food, water and other necessities of life at sea. Every ship needed a cooper or a man skilled in making and maintaining barrels. Existing storage barrels had to be inspected regularly. Empty barrels were broken up to make space on small ships. The cooper would quickly put them back together if they stopped to take on food and water.

Carpenter  - The carpenter was in charge of the ship’s structural integrity. He generally answered to the Boatswain and would fix holes after combat, keep the masts and yardarms sound, and functional and know when the ship needed to be beached for maintenance and repairs. Ship's carpenters had to make do with what was at hand, as pirates usually could not use official dry docks in ports. Many times they would have to make repairs on some deserted island or stretch of beach, using only what they could scavenge or cannibalize from other parts of the ship.

Surgeon - Those that had them probably pressed surgeons into service. From surgeons, crew expected, to help them with diseases and wounds. Without proper medicines, every wound could become a source of infection, so amputations were often necessary in order save patient's life.

Cook - In charge of meals and food storage. Most ships nominated a crew member to take of meal preparation rather than hire someone who specialized.

Gunner/Powder Monkey - In charge of those who operated on the artillery. They watched for the safety of their man and usually aimed the cannons themselves.

Rigger - Riggers were the sailors whose job it was to manage the rigging and perform duties such as furl and release the sails. This was one of the most dangerous pirate crew positions due to the danger of slipping and falling high above the deck.

Bard  - Musicians were popular on board. Piracy was a tedious life, and a ship could spend weeks at sea waiting to find a suitable victim. Musicians helped to pass the time, and having some skill with a musical instrument brought with it certain privileges, such as playing while the others were working or even increased shares. Musicians were often taken off of the ships of their victims.

Justice/Codes/Terms of Agreement

The distribution of justice was a practice commonly adopted by pirates. Ships operated as limited democracies (for more details, see pirate code) and imposed their ideas of justice upon the crew of the ship that they captured. After capture, the crew would be questioned as to whether they had suffered cruel or unjust treatment from the commander of the ship. Any commanders "against whom Complaint was made" would be punished or even executed. This punishment was not indiscriminately given to all ship's commanders. An "honest Fellow that never abused any Sailors" would be rewarded, and sometimes freed. This distribution of justice was seen as of profound importance by pirates. Bartholomew Roberts' crew even designated a member of his crew, George Wilson, as their "Dispenser of Justice". Linebaugh and Rediker describe the early eighteenth-century pirate ship as "democratic in an undemocratic age" as well as "egalitarian in a hierarchical age, as pirates divided their plunder equally, leveling all the elaborate structure of pay ranks common to all other maritime employments."

Pirates during this time period "distributed justice, elected officers, divided loot equally, and establish a different discipline. They limited the authority of the captain, resisted many of the practices of the capitalists merchant shipping industry, and maintained a multicultural, multiracial, multinational social order."

Before a pirate ship left port all pirates collaborated and signed a document called the articles of agreement, also known as the pirate code. The pirate code was a group of rules that all pirates had to follow aboard a ship. Some of these included things like keeping ones weapons at ready at all times and not smoking near gunpowder. Others were curfews for drinking and partying below deck and efforts to curtail gambling which created internal conflicts. Overall, pirates were pretty democratic but the punishments for breaking the agreed upon articles was often severe.

The ships articles would determine what shares each pirate got along with regulations for inter-group fighting and discipline. They would also regulate what happened when things like loss of limb or eyes occurred. It was more or less an extension of the broader pirate governments that they all resided under.

While it may seem unfathomable today in the age of nations and superpowers, there was a very real possibility that existed in the 18th century during the Post Spanish Succession Period for the Flying Gang pirates to actually establish their own republic in the West Indies if they chose to, expounding on the fledgling Republic of Pirates that was started on Nassau.

In fact, this idea scared the ruling classes of the imperial powers so much it was the driving reason behind the extermination of their former soldiers and privateers. Branded as pirates by the world governments, these men were secretly loved by the community due to their pursuits against the tyranny and oppression of the time. It is also hard to imagine a pirate government as well, a complete libertarian society ruled by a much different and decentralized structure that stood in start contrast to the monarchy model that even persists today.

While pirates championed the ideas of freedom, liberty and the pursuit of happiness long before the founding fathers of America they also lived one of the most grueling and toughest lifestyles. Life aboard a wooden sailing ship was little better in the 18th century as it was in the 16th century and your home could one day become your tomb. Therefore while the pirate captain was elected by his crew there was also a level of strictness incorporated with life aboard the ship. This was necessary for survival and while the pirates surely enjoyed themselves in port they needed a code in order to survive on the high seas.

Pirate Code of Captain Charles Johnson and Bartholomew Roberts

Every man shall have an equal vote in affairs of moment. He shall have an equal title to the fresh provisions or strong liquors at any time seized, and shall use them at pleasure unless a scarcity may make it necessary for the common good that a retrenchment may be voted.

Every man shall be called fairly in turn by the list on board of prizes, because over and above their proper share, they are allowed a shift of clothes. But if they defraud the company to the value of even one dollar in plate, jewels or money, they shall be marooned. If any man rob another he shall have his nose and ears slit, and be put ashore where he shall be sure to encounter hardships.

None shall game for money either with dice or cards.

The lights and candles should be put out at eight at night, and if any of the crew desire to drink after that hour they shall sit upon the open deck without lights.

Each man shall keep his piece, cutlass and pistols at all times clean and ready for action.

He that shall desert the ship or his quarters in time of battle shall be punished by death or marooning.

None shall strike another on board the ship, but every man's quarrel shall be ended on shore by sword or pistol in this manner. At the word of command from the quartermaster, each man being previously placed back to back, shall turn and fire immediately. If any man do not, the quartermaster shall knock the piece out of his hand. If both miss their aim they shall take to their cutlasses, and he that draw the first blood shall be declared the victor.

No man shall talk of breaking up their way of living till each has a share of 1,000. Every man who shall become a cripple or lose a limb in the service shall have 800 pieces of eight from the common stock and for lesser hurts proportionately.

The captain and the quartermaster shall each receive two shares of a prize, the master gunner and boatswain, one and one half shares, all other officers one and one quarter, and private gentlemen of fortune one share each.

The musicians shall have rest on the Sabbath Day only by right. On all other days by favor only

Examples of punishments commonly seen on pirate ships:

Being cast adrift for any rule breaking

Being shot for stealing

Getting 40 lashes for fighting onboard

Restricted food privileges for gambling onboard

LIFE ABOARD A PIRATE SHIP - A PIRATE’S LIFE FOR ME

A mariner’s life was anything but comfortable. He lived belowdecks in dim, cramped, and filthy quarters. Rats and cockroaches abounded in the bowels of the ship. Privacy was nonexistent, especially aboard a pirate ship where two hundred men might inhabit a world measuring one hundred twenty by forty feet. Within the pages of Five Naval Journals 1789-1817, an anonymous sailor said, “On the same deck with me…slept between five and six hundred men; and the ports being necessarily closed from evening to morning, the heat in this cavern of only six feet high, and so entirely filled with human bodies, was overpowering.”

Bathroom facilities were primitive. Rotting provisions, bilgewater, and unwashed bodies made the air rank. A storm meant days of dampness after it passed. Headroom between decks posed problems for taller men. Captain Rotheram of the HMS Bellerophon, whose gun deck headroom measured five feet eight inches, surveyed his crew and found they averaged five feet five inches in height.

According to a sailor named Barrow, “There are no men under the sun that fare harder and get their living more hard and that are so abused on all sides as we poor seamen…so I could wish no young man to betake himself to this calling unless he had good friends to put him in place or supply his wants, for he shall find a great deal more to his sorrow than I have writ.” For these reasons most sailors were in their mid-twenties, having gone to sea much earlier. Whether pirate or seaman, they had to have stamina and dexterity that older men no longer possessed. They also spent from three months to several years away from home.

Added to these problems were the dangers inherent in a sailor’s life. He might plummet to his death while working the sails high above the deck. He might fall overboard, in which case the ship rarely returned for him and few sailors knew how to swim. Plus there was the danger of sharks in tropical waters. Then there was the danger of fire or shipwreck. Also, the dull routine that was the norm between the sighting of sail and boarding a prize, numbed sailors’ minds. Accidents and natural disasters certainly claimed sailors’ lives, as did sea fights, but men were far more likely to succumb to disease than anything else. Scurvy, dysentery, tuberculosis, typhus, smallpox, malaria, and yellow fever killed half of all seamen.  According to David Cordingly, “It has been calculated that during the wars against Revolutionary and Napoleonic France of 1793 to 1815 approximately 100,000 British seamen died. Of this number 1.5 per cent died in battle, 12 per cent died in shipwrecks or similar disasters, 20 per cent died from shipboard or dockside accidents, and no less than 65 per cent died from disease.” 

Another aspect of life at sea involved sailors’ leisure time. Whether pirate or not, they enjoyed many of the same activities, only the amount differed, particularly where drink was concerned. While gambling did occur, it wasn’t conducive to harmony amongst the men, and even the pirates included it as an intolerable infraction in their articles of agreement. Chewing tobacco, scrimshaw, and embroidery were popular pastimes. They also spun yarns about fearsome ghosts and goblins. When pirates boarded a prize, musicians were among the most sought after sailors enlisted into the ranks of the pirates, whether they joined willingly or were forced, because pirates loved entertainment.

Why did sailors take the extra risk of going on the account? Piracy offered a number of advantages, not the least of which was freedom from the harsh discipline suffered in the Royal Navy or aboard a merchantman. Pirates rarely flogged their mates, and while marooning and death were severe forms of punishment, they never endured six hundred lashes, swallowing cockroaches or iron bolts to learn a lesson. Nor would a pirate captain dare to cut out an eye as happened to Richard Desbrough.9  Life on land was equally fraught with cruel punishments, for use of the thumbscrew, pillory, and branding iron were still in use. “Children as young as seven, both boys and girls, were hanged. …[I]n 1698, Parliament had passed a law that the theft of good, worth more than five shillings, rated the death penalty.”

When a sea captain refused to join his crew, one pirate said, “Damn ye, you are a sneaking puppy and so are all those who will submit to be governed by laws which rich men have made for their own security, for the cowardly whelps have not the courage otherwise to defend what they got by their knavery. But damn ye altogether. Damn them for a pack of craft rascals, and you, who serve them, for a parcel of hen-hearted numbskulls. They vilify us, the scoundrels do, then there is only this difference, they rob the poor under the cover of law, forsooth, and we plunder the rich under the protection of our own courage; had ye not better make one of use, than sneak after the arses of those villains for employment?”

 Aside from freedom, the financial rewards were far greater as a pirate than as a legitimate sailor, especially since pirates shared their plunder more equitably than privateers or the navy did. Gold, silver, silks, spices, timber, and a variety of other commodities made lucrative prizes. A privateer in the early seventeenth century might receive £10, the wages of most sailors for one year. A pirate, on the other hand, had the potential of earning up to £4,000 in a year, although he rarely held onto his ill-gotten gains for long. In 1695, Captain Avery and his men captured the Gunsway, and netted about £1,000 each. In 1721, pirates under John Taylor and Oliver la Buze netted £875,000 after seizing a Portuguese East Indiaman.  

FOOD

The first couple of weeks at sea was full of meat, cheese, fresh veggies, eggs, and you name it.  After that the food slowly but surely started to spoil, rot, mold and go rancid. That's why most of the food in storage was either dry beans, pickled food or salted food like salted meat. The quality and variety of the food was certainly found lacking after a few months at sea. Chickens were kept for the eggs until they were eaten or died. Cows were kept for the milk until the food supply for the cow had depleted.  When the cow no longer had food to live, it was then time to eat the cow. 

In the Royal Navy during the Napoleonic period, seamen ate a rather bland and routine diet. On Mondays they ate cheese and duff (flour pudding), Tuesdays and Saturdays boiled beef, Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays dried peas and duff. On Sundays they were served dried pork and Figgy Dowdy or a similar treat. Supper consisted of leftovers from dinner, a biscuit, and a pint of grog. In contrast, on 14 August 1781, a rear-admiral served twelve dinners one meal that included: boiled ducks smothered with onions, roast goose, tarts, beaten butter, potatoes, French beans, whipped cream, fruit fritters, bacon, apple pie, boiled fowl, carrots and turnips, albacore, Spanish fritters, boiled beef, and roast mutton.

The meat was frequently rotten and it was very common to see maggots.  The bread was full of weevils, even the hardtack sea biscuits which usually lasted for up to 12 months if kept dry.  To restock their provisions, pirates stole from the ships they seized. They also supplemented their diets with dolphins, albacore tuna, and other varieties of fish. One particular food was the green turtle. They “are extremely good to eat--the flesh very sweet and the fat green and delicious. This fat is so penetrating that when you have eaten nothing but turtle flesh for three or four weeks, your shirt becomes so greasy from sweat you can squeeze the oil out and your limbs are weighed down with it.”8 They enjoyed salamagundi, which resembled a chef’s salad. Marinated bits of fish, turtle, and meat were combined with herbs, palm hearts, spiced wine, and oil, then served with hard-boiled eggs, pickled onions, cabbage, grapes, and olives. Pirates also ate yams, plantains, pineapples, papayas, and other fruits and vegetables indigenous to the tropics.

Pirates were known to catch a sea turtle here and there which was a welcomed meal.  Bones from everything was kept to make Pirate Bone Soup for when the going got rough.

 Bone Soup was eaten thick or drank thin by sea pirates. Life at Sea was difficult so "Pirate Bone Soup" was made from anything and everything from animal bones, fish bones to even bone and flesh from rats that were living aboard the ships when rations were low. In the Caribbean, they also caught turtle for fresh meat which was sometimes added to soups. Bone Soup has always had a history of being healing and helpful to the body but in the case of Pirate Bone Soup, it was cooked with the idea to simply stay alive during long sea voyages.  Pirate Bone Soup may of carried alot of calcium value from all the stewing bones but there would of been a lot of unhealthy things in the soup as well. such as: diseased rats, close to rottening meat, maggots, weevils, etc. 

Galley cooks were known to use a lot of herbs and spices to cover up the taste of spoiled ingredients. Vegetables and meat were usually pickled or salted to preserve the food.  Ships on long voyages relied on biscuits, dried beans and salted beef to live. Without proper food, many sailors got sick and died of scurvy.

Popular/common foods:

Sauerkraut

Bombo

Hard tack

Oats

Salamagundi

Salted meats

Turtle meat

Fish

Dehydrated vegetables like peas

Bone Soup

Vinegar

Pickled fruits

Pickled limes and lemons

MORE GENERAL/STANDARD ALLOATION OF FOOD OVER A WEEK FOR SHORT TRIPS (2 WEEKS/1 MONTH):

4 pounds of salted beef

2 pounds of salted pork

2 pint of peas

3 pints of oats

6 ounces of butter

12 ounces of cheese

1 pound of bread per day

1 gallon of beer/ale/alcoholic beverage per day

ALSO NOTE: FOOD STORAGE ISSUES AND STARVATION WERE COMMON: When their provisions ran scarce, pirates did resort to extreme measures. Charlotte de Berry’s crew purportedly ate two slaves and her husband. In 1670, Sir Henry Morgan’s crew ate their leather satchels. According to written accounts, they cut the leather into strips. After soaking these, they beat and rubbed the leather with stones to tenderize them. They scraped off the hair, then roasted or grilled the strips before cutting them into bite-size pieces.

FASHION

Pirate clothing would have been made out of materials such as linen, wool, silk, hemp or fustian. These materials were readily available in the Caribbean at the time and would have also incorporated some tanned leather for armor.

A big hoop earring on a sailor meant that he had sailed around the world or had crossed the equator. Superstitious sailors wore gold hoop earrings because they believed it brought good fortune. Some believed that the gold possessed magic healing powers or that it served as a protective talisman that would prevent the wearer from drowning. As strange as it may seem, some pirates believed that wearing earrings helped protect their hearing. They had good reason to want to protect it since they were often firing huge cannons and found themselves near extremely loud noises. The dangling wax from the earrings was used to plug their ears when shots were fired. Gold earrings were often sold post-mortem to pay for funeral costs. Some pirates even got the name of their home port engraved on their earrings in the hopes that a kind soul would send their body home (by bearing the expenses through the sale of their earrings, of course). 

Eye patches were worn but not to cover a missing eye.  The purpose of the eyepatch wasn’t to hide a missing eye as much as it was to help improve night vision. This was required for their job. During a raid, they had to run between, over, and under the deck. The eyepatch let them see clearly in both the bright light on the deck and in the darkness underneath.

Tattoos were also seen as lucky. Seafarers would usually tattoo a nautical star on their bodies as the North Star represented a signal that they were nearing home.

Cutting ones hair, nail trimming, and being clean shaven were seen as big no-nos.

NOTE: Sewing was a valuable skill at sea. Most sailors knew how to sew or would make a profit by fixing the clothes of crewmates.

VIEWS ON SEXUALITY

The truth may be more interesting than the fiction. Pirates rejected puritan society and were socially very liberal. They openly welcomed homosexuality and even had their own form of gay marriage. Matelotage was a civil partnership between two male pirates. Matelotage partners openly had sex with each other. The men shared their property, had the other as their named inheritor, and lived together. 

It just wasn’t always a strictly monogamous enterprise. Just as today, sexuality is a spectrum, and the relationships were sometimes bisexual. When the French sent hundreds of prostitutes into Tortuga in the mid-1600s, they were trying to counter matelotage. The result was not what they expected. The fluid sexuality of the pirate community welcomed the prostitutes and many engaged in threesomes with the women.

PIRATES AND WOMEN

While piracy was predominantly a male occupation throughout history, a minority of pirates were female. Female pirates, like other women in crime, faced gender and discrimination issues in both practicing this occupation and being punished for it. Pirates did not allow women onto their ships very often. Additionally, women were often regarded as bad luck among pirates. It was feared that the male members of the crew would argue and fight over the women. On many ships, women (as well as young boys) were prohibited by the ship's contract, which all crew members were required to sign

Because of the resistance to allowing women on board, many female pirates did not identify themselves as such. Anne Bonny, for example, dressed and acted as a man while on Captain Calico Jack's ship. She and Mary Read, another female pirate, are often identified as being unique in this regard.  However, it is possible many women dressed as men during the Golden Age of Piracy, in an effort to take advantage of the many rights, privileges, and freedoms that were exclusive to men.

Some women chose to marry pirates. These men were often very wealthy, but their wives tended not to gain wealth as a result of their marriages, as it was difficult for pirates to send home wages and booty earned overseas. These women's houses and establishments were often used as safe havens for pirates, who were considered enemies of all nations.

 During the Golden Age of Piracy, many men had to leave home to find employment or set sail for economic reasons.  This left women with the responsibilities of taking on traditionally male roles and filling the jobs that were left behind. The need for women to fill these roles led them to be granted rights that had historically been exclusive to men. Women were allowed to trade, own ships, and work as retailers. Often they were innkeepers or ran alehouses. In some seaside towns, laws were even written to allow widows to keep their husbands' responsibilities and property. This was important to local economies, as alehouses and other such establishments were centers of commerce, where pirates would congregate and trade with each other and with the people onshore.

As heads of these establishments, women had a considerable amount of freedom in business. They boarded and fed pirates, bought illegally pirated goods, acted as pawnbrokers for pirates, and even gave out loans - something many men, let alone women, viewed with great caution in that time period. At times, female business owners would even hide their clients when authorities came looking to arrest them for piracy.

Women noted as pirates in history

Viking Age and medieval pirates

Rusila (Norwegian) - Fought against her brother Thrond for the thrones of both Denmark and Norway. Possibly fictional. Recorded in Saxo Grammaticus' Gesta Danorum (History of the Danes). Johannes Steenstrup linked her to the Ingean Ruadh (Red Maid) of Irish folklore.

Stilka (Norwegian) - Sister of Rusila: Became a pirate to avoid marriage. Recorded in the Gesta Danorum

Princess Sela (Norwegian) - Sister of Koller, king of Norway. Horwendil (later to be father of Amleth/Hamlet) was King of Jutland but gave up the throne to become a pirate. Koller "deemed it would be a handsome deed" to kill the pirate and sailed to find the pirate fleet. Horwendil killed Koller but had to later kill Sela, who was a skilled warrior and experienced pirate, to end the war. Recorded in the Gesta Danorum.

Alvid (Norwegian) - Leader of a group of male and female pirates. Also recorded in the Gesta Danorum.

Wigbiorg, Hatha and Wisna (Norwegian) - All three are listed in the Gesta Danorum as sea captains. Wigbiorg died in battle, Hetha became queen of Zealand, and Wisna lost a hand in a duel.

Alfhild (Swedish) - Existence is disputed. Often wrongly dated to the 5th century.

Ladgerda (Norwegian) - Ladgerda is the inspiration for Hermintrude in Shakespeare's Hamlet.

Aethelflaed aka The Lady of the Mercians (English) - Eldest daughter of Alfred the Great of England. Became the military leader of the Anglo-Saxons after her husband's death in battle against the Danes in 911. Took command of the fleets to rid the seas of the Viking raiders.

Jeanne de Clisson aka Lioness of Brittany (Breton) - A Breton woman who became a pirate to avenge the execution of her husband. Attacked only French vessels.

Elise Eskilsdottir (Norwegian) - A Norwegian noble who became a pirate to avenge the execution of her husband. She operated outside the sea of the city of Bergen.

16th Century pirates

Gráinne Ní Mháille (Irish) - Gráinne Ní Mháille was Queen of Umaill, chieftain of the Ó Máille clan and a pirate in 16th century Ireland. She is an important figure in Irish folklore, and a historical figure in 16th century Irish history, and is sometimes known as "The Sea Queen Of Connaught". Biographies of her have been written primarily in the 20th and 21st centuries by the historian Anne Chambers.

Sayyida al Hurra (Moroccan) - Allied with the Turkish corsair Barbaros of Algiers. al Hurra controlled the western Mediterranean Sea while Barbaros controlled the eastern. Also prefect of Tétouan. In 1515 she became the last person in Islamic history to legitimately hold the title of "al Hurra" or Queen following the death of her husband who ruled Tétouan. She later married the King of Morocco, Ahmed al-Wattasi, but refused to leave Tétouan to do so. This marriage is the only time in Moroccan history a King has married away from the capital Fez.

Lady Mary Killigrew (English) - Mary was the daughter of a former Suffolk pirate. Mary's husband Sir Henry Killigrew, a former pirate himself, was made a Vice-Admiral by Queen Elizabeth I and tasked with suppressing piracy. Whenever her husband went to sea, Mary engaged in piracy using the staff of her castle (Arwenack Castle in Cornwall) as crew and possibly with the Queen's knowledge. In 1570, she captured a German merchant ship off Falmouth and her crew sailed it to Ireland to sell. However, the owner of this ship was a friend of Queen Elizabeth, who then had Lady Mary arrested and brought to trial at the Launceston assizes. Some sources say she was sentenced to death and then pardoned by the Queen, but this is due to confusion with another family member. According to sources, her family either bribed the jurors and she was acquitted, or Queen Elizabeth arranged a short jail sentence. Whatever transpired, she gave up piracy and took up fencing stolen goods until she died several years later.

Lady Elizabeth Killgrew (English) - Elizabeth and her husband Sir John lived in Pendennis Castle in Falmouth Harbour. In early 1581 a Spanish ship, the Marie of San Sebastian was blown down Channel by a storm and was forced, dismasted, to take refuge in Falmouth harbour. Lady Elizabeth led an attack on the ship and then fenced the proceeds. Lady Elizabeth was later arrested and sentenced to death but pardoned. Her husband Sir John was ordered by the Privy Council to restore the vessel and goods to their owners but went into hiding along with the ship which resulted in several warrants for his arrest being issued for acts of piracy committed over the next eight years.

17th Century Pirates

Elizabetha Patrickson (English)

Jacquotte Delahaye (French Haitian) - Caribbean pirate. Also known as "Back from the Dead Red" due to her red hair and return to piracy after faking her own death and hiding dressed as a man for several years.

Christian Anna Skytte (Swedish) - She actively participated in the secret piracy conducted by her brother and spouse in the Baltic sea.

Anne Dieu-le-Veut (French) - Caribbean pirate and later based in Mississippi after Tortuga was closed down. Dieu-Le-Veut was a nickname meaning "God wills it" and given to her as it seemed anything she wanted God gave her. Married to a pirate, Anne challenged pirate Laurens de Graaf to a duel after he killed her husband in 1683. He refused and she became his common law wife, fighting by his side and sharing command.

18th Century Pirates

Maria Lindsey or Maria Cobham (English) - The wife of Captain Eric Cobham and possibly fictional. Pirate operating on the Canadian east coast.

Ingela Gathenhielm (Swedish) - Often listed separately in lists of pirates but is likely to be Maria Lindsey (see above)

Anne Bonny (Irish) - Caribbean pirate. Married to pirate James Bonny, had an affair with pirate John "Calico Jack" Rackham, and later joined his crew. Discovered another crew member Mark Read was secretly a woman (Mary Read) and the two became very close. This of course is Wikipedia-speak for “Harold, they’re lesbians.”

Mary Read aka Mark Read (English) - Caribbean pirate. As a man, Mary went to sea and later joined the British army, fighting in the War Of The Spanish Succession. Mary married and settled down as a woman but returned to male dress following the death of her husband, later boarding a ship bound for the West Indies. Captured by "Calico" Jack Rackham, Mary joined his crew. In 1721, she died in prison.

Mary Farley, alias Mary Harvey (Irish) - In 1725, Mary Harvey and her husband Thomas were transported to the Province of Carolina as felons. In 1726, Mary and three men were tried for piracy. Two of the men were hanged (their leader John Vidal was convicted and later pardoned) but Mary was released. Her husband Thomas was never caught.

Mary Crickett (English) - In 1728, Mary Crickett and Edmund Williams were transported to the colony of Virginia together as felons. In 1729, along with four other men, both were convicted of piracy and hanged.

Flora Burn (English) - Operated on the East Coast of North America.

Rachel Well (American) - Married George Wall, a former privateer who served in the Revolutionary War, when she was sixteen years old. Operated on the New England Coast. Thought to be the first American female pirate. In 1782, George and the rest of his crew were drowned in a storm. She was accused of robbery in 1789 and confessed to being a pirate. She was convicted and sentenced to death by hanging.

Charlotte de Berry (English) - Possibly fictional.

19th Century Pirates

Ching Shih (Chinese) - She was a prostitute who married a pirate and rose to prominence after his death. Regarded as one of the most powerful pirates in human history, she commanded her husband's fleet after his death. While the fleet she inherited was already large, she further increased the number of ships and crew. At its height, her fleet was composed of more than 1,500 ships and 80,000 sailors. She controlled much of the waters of the South China Sea. After years of piracy during which British, Chinese and Portuguese navies could not defeat her, China offered her peace in 1810 and she was able to retire and married the second in command,

Charlotte Badger and Catherine Hagerty (English) - Widely considered to be the first Australian female pirate. The ship Venus, due to a shortage of man-power, took on convicts including Badger and Hagerty as crew while in Australia. After docking at Port Dalrymple, Tasmania, the Captain went ashore and the crew seized the ship, sailing for New Zealand. Hagerty along with two other convicts, a woman named Charlotte Edgar and a child were put ashore at the Bay of Islands with a supply of stores. Hagerty died shortly thereafter. The two men were arrested for piracy and Edgar remained to become one of the first settlers in New Zealand. Badger was never seen again.

Margaret Croke (Canadian) - Following a dispute with investors over his schooner The Three Sisters, Edward Jordan was on his way to Halifax to sort it out. Wrongly assuming his family was being sent to debtors' prison, he killed two crewman then threw the Captain overboard before commandeering the vessel with the help of the remaining crewman. The marooned Captain survived and testified against Jordan claiming Margaret, who was aboard with her son and three young daughters, was also involved. Margaret admitted hitting the Captain after he had hit her husband during an argument in her cabin before he decided to commandeer the vessel; the other crew member testified she was actually in fear for her life from her violent husband and had attempted to escape. Both Margaret and Edward were hanged for piracy.

Johanna Hard (Swedish) - Sweden's last pirate; in 1823, recently widowed Hård, a farm owner on Vrångö Island, was arrested along with her farmhand Anders Andersson, farmer Christen Andersson, and one of Christen's farmhands Carl Börjesson and boatman Johan Andersson Flatås of Göteborg for piracy after the Danish ship Frau Mette was found beached and plundered with a murdered crew. Evidence was presented that the five had followed the Frau Mette on Flatås fishing vessel the Styrsö and requested water. After boarding her they killed the crew. Johan Andersson Flatås, Anders Andersson, and Christen Andersson were sentenced to death and beheaded. Carl Börjesson was imprisoned in Karlstens fortress where he died 1853. The evidence against Johanna Hård was insufficient and she was released and subsequently disappeared.

Sadie the Goat (American) - Possibly fictional. Operated around the state of New York as a member of the Charlton Street Gang. Named for her habit of headbutting her victims before taking their money.

20th Century Pirates

Lo Hon-ho (Chinese) - Took command of 64 ships after her husband’s death in 1921. Youthful and reported to be pretty, she gained the reputation of being the most ruthless of all China's pirates. Lo Hon-cho's fleet attacked villages and fishing fleets in the seas around Beihai taking young women as prisoners and later selling them into slavery. In 1922 a Chinese warship intercepted the fleet destroying 40 vessels. Despite escaping, Lo Hon-cho was later handed to authorities by the remaining pirates in exchange for clemency.

Lai Sho Sz’en, Lai Choi San (Chinese) - Operated in the South China Sea. Commanded 12 ships.

P’en Ch’ih Ch’iko, Ki Ming (Chinese) – possibly fictional

Huang P’ei-mei (Chinese) – Led 50,000 pirates

Cheng Chu Ping aka Sister Ping (Chinese) - Operated in the South China Sea smuggling thousands of Chinese immigrants to the U.S. and Europe. Was convicted in the U.S. and sentenced to 35 years in prison. Died in 2014.

PIRATES AND THE SLAVE TRADE

Pirate crews and piracy were one of the most unique and democratic organizations on the planet at the time. While the rest of the world was ruled by absolute tyrants and monarchs, pirates were the early patriots. Raiding and looting with plunder, they died in infamy. Another unique facet of pirate crews including women in piracy is slavery in piracy. While the rest of the world sought to buy and sell humans like cargo, the pragmatic pirates often liberated these men and recruited them into their ranks.

Most pirates had once been a part of the slave trade and realized how poor the conditions were, given they were often mistreated sailors themselves in the Royal Merchant Navy. While pirates were occasionally known to take, sell and kill slaves it was often out of economic necessity rather than racial prejudice. Most pirate crews were known to have at least a good percentage of freed slaves.

One of the most famous and lasting of all the pirates was a freed slave named Black Caesar and after his own prolific career joined the crew of Edward 'Blackbeard' Teach aboard his ship the Queen Annes Revenge as his lieutenant. Another famous freed slave pirate was named John Julian who became the pilot of the Whydah captained by Samuel Bellamy. 

It is known that Edward 'Blackbeard' Teach had at least 40% freed slaves on his ship and that nearly 21 members of Bartholomew Roberts were put back into slavery after he was killed and the crew captured. Pirates would describe themselves as Maroons, using the same name as the escaped Jamaican slave gangs. In fact, the freed black slaves were considered as much of the crew as anyone else and was to receive the same shares, rewards, compensation and experiences as their white counterparts under the pirate code.

As one story goes, a slave ship captain once found himself back in command of his ship after pirates had freed all the slaves onboard and given them weapons. This was pirate justice on the high seas. As much as pirates were the victim of a massive PR smear campaign by the Imperial powers at the time, pirates were probably the most democratic and egalitarian groups on the planet at the time.

In fact, the reason why so many freed slaves chose to join the pirates was because it was probably the best economic opportunity that they would have for at least two hundred years. Pirates were considered equal members of the crew, and the economic toll that this vicious cycle was taking on the royal empires was staggering. Not only were they losing cargo and thus direct compensation, but each slave released added another pirate to their ranks. This created more pirates and thus exacerbated the problem. Thus the pirates had to be stopped at all costs.

This is when the Royal empires began dispatching pirate hunters and offering the 1718 Kings Pardon to any pirate that wished to stop. Those that did faced a speedy trial and the hangman's noose. Black slaves were often hung or put back into slavery to help mitigate the economic losses caused by the halting of the slave trade in the region.

PIRATES AND HEALTH

Sickness and diseases such as, dysentery, malaria, smallpox, and yellow fever created problems among ships and "could be fatal." Pirates, like privateers, were a little better off than those who worked on merchant or naval ships as "food was superior," "pay was higher," "shifts were shorter," and the crew's powers of "decision making was greater." Epidemics and scurvy led some to desert "naval vessels for pirates." In the event of disabilities occurring while in service to the ship, some pirates set up a "common wealth" plan to be paid to any man in the event of injury. Medical artifacts recovered from the wreck site of Blackbeard's Queen Anne Revenge include; a urethral syringe used to treat syphilis, pump clysters to pump fluid into the rectum, a porringer which may have been used in bloodletting treatments, and a cast brass mortar and pestle used in preparing medicine.

There were doctors and surgeons present on some pirate vessels. Any surgeon or doctor who sailed with pirates, according to Rediker, was considered by their peers "to be insane." Surgeons/doctors were paid more shares, between "one and a quarter" and "one and a half," than other men on pirate ships. However, doctors and surgeons weren't always trusted as they were not allowed to vote with the crew "because their class background (or forced status)."

Pirate crew often practiced a policy of health insurance similar to today’s world. Even  when there wasn’t much advancement made in medicine, pirates made sure that if a member of their fleet was injured, he would receive benefits. For instance, 600 Spanish dollars (a kind of currency prevalent at that time) would be paid out for the loss of a limb. The loss of an eye would be compensated with 200 Spanish dollars and complete blindness would be compensated with 2,000 Spanish dollars; this is equal to almost $153,000 today. Crew members were given the option of accepting their compensation.

ATTITUDE TOWARDS DEATH

On every voyage a sailor would face the risk of falling overboard and drowning, starvation, disease, abuse, accidents in the rigging, and attack. Once a sailor abandoned his law-abiding career to become a pirate he knowingly increased his chance of expediting his own death exponentially. Once convicted as a pirate, a sailor faced an almost certain demise of being hanged at the execution docks.

When on trial in Charleston, the pirate Job Bayley was asked why he had attacked several warships that were sent to capture him, he answered that "We thought it had been a pirate." At yet another trial in London the pirate John Bayley comically played dumb when the Judge asked what he would have done if the warship that apprehended him was nothing more than a merchant ship answering, "I don't know what I would have done." Both men knew that their fate was sealed the moment they were apprehended and both in turn hanged at the gallows.

The story of pirate William Fly, who was executed on July 12, 1726 in Boston, illustrates how arrogantly many pirates viewed death. He showed no anxiety over his imminent demise, but rather tied his own noose and lectured the hangman about the proper way to tie the knot. Right before he swung off to his death he delivered a warning to all ships captains and owners that in order to prevent their crews from mutinying and resorting to piracy, they would be wise to pay their crews on time and treat them humanly.

Some pirates preferred to control their own fate. Pairs of pirates would at times make oaths to one another that in order to insure that neither were captured they would shoot each other. The crew of Bartholomew Roberts preferred not to be taken alive and swore to blow themselves up rather than give the authorities the satisfaction of seeing them hanged. When Roberts and his men were finally found an attempt was made to blow the ship up rather than face capture, however it proved in vain due to an insufficient gunpowder. Edward Teach's (Blackbeard's) crew also failed to detonate their sloop when facing capture however, the pirate Joseph Cooper and his crew successfully blew themselves up and evaded capture by the authorities.

SUPERSTITIONS

NO BANANAS ON BOARD

Aside from their peels causing many comedians to trip and fall down, bananas have long been thought to bring bad luck, especially on ships. At the height of the trading empire between Spain and the Caribbean in the 1700's, most cases of disappearing ships happened to be carrying a cargo of bananas at the time.

Coincidence? Perhaps. Another theory suggests that because bananas spoiled so quickly, transporters had to get to their destination much quicker. Fisherman thus never caught anything while bananas were on board. Another danger caused by monkey's favourite fruit fermenting so quickly, was that in the heat of the storage hull, bananas would produce deadly toxic fumes.

A final theory on the perils of bananas at sea (though there are tons) is that a species of deadly spider would hide inside banana bunches. Their lethal bite caused crewman to die suddenly, heightening the fear that banana cargo was a bad omen.

WOMEN

Women were said to bring bad luck on board because they distracted the sailors from their sea duties. This kind of behaviour angered the intemperate seas that would take their revenge out on the ship. Funny enough, naked women on board were completely welcome. That's because naked women "calmed the sea". This is why ships' typically had a figure of a topless women perched on the bow of the ship. Her bare breasts "shamed the stormy seas into calm" and her open eyes guided the seamen to safety.

SON OF A GUN

Male children born on the ship were referred to as "son of a gun" because the most convenient place to give birth on deck (if you weren't too afraid of having a woman on board) was on the gun deck. Having a male child on board was a sign of good luck.

NO WHISTLING

Mariners have long held the belief that whistling or singing into the wind will "whistle up a storm"

LEXIS

At sea, some words must be strictly avoided to ensure the ship and crew's safe return. These include obvious ones like "drowned" and "goodbye". If someone says "good luck" to you, it is sure to bring about bad luck. The only way to reverse the curse is by drawing blood, so usually a good punch in the nose will do.

RED SKY

"Red sky at night, sailor's delight; red sky in the morning, sailors take warning" the old saying goes. A red sunset indicates a beautiful day to come, while a red sunrise indicates rain and bad weather.

SHARKS

Sharks = omens of death

DOLPHINS

Considered a good sign. Believed to scare away sharks.

NEVER SAIL ON…

Don't Sail On Thursdays, Fridays, the first Monday in April or the second Monday in August.

Fridays: Fridays have long been considered unlucky days, likely because Jesus Christ was crucified on a Friday. 

Thursdays: Thursdays are bad sailing days because that is Thor's day, the god of thunders and storms.

First Monday in April: The first Monday in April is the day Cain slew Abel

Second Monday in August: The second Monday in August is the day the kingdoms of Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed. 

Superstitious sailors believe that the only good day to set sail is Sundays.

CHANGING SHIP NAMES

It's bad luck to change the name of the boat. Boats develop a life and mind of their own once they are named and Christened.

If you do rename the boat- you absolutely must have a de-naming ceremony.

This ceremony can be performed by writing the current ship name on a piece of paper, folding the paper and placing it in a wooden box then burning the box. After, scoop up the ashes and throw them into the sea at night and only during a new moon. In order to purify the ship, a virgin (often the cabin boy) would have to urinate across the bow.

PAY YOUR DUES

Seamen that hadn't paid their debts were blamed for storms and any other misfortunate events that would occur on the ship.

RED HAIR

Red heads were thought to bring bad luck to a ship if you happened to encounter one before boarding. However, if you speak to the redhead before they get the chance to speak to you, you're saved.

ALBATROSS

Seabirds were thought to carry the souls of dead sailors and it is considered bad luck to kill one. However, it is considered good luck if you see one.

SALT

Pirates would throw salt over their left shoulder. Throwing salt over your shoulder a way of keeping the devil at bay.

KNOCK ON WOOD

17th century sailors who would knock on the wood hull of their ships to listen for worm or rot, hearing a solid sound would imply that the hull was in "ship shape" When in a conversation a reference is made to 'Good luck' they would sometimes say 'Touch wood' and touch some part of their wooden vessel. The 'good luck' they were implying also referring to the luck they were having and hoping to have while their wooden hull held true and fast during their voyage at sea.

SPIT

It's good luck to spit in the ocean before you sail.

CATS

Cats were often kept on ships as mousers. There are a lot of superstitions around cats.  

Cats brought luck. If a ship's cat came to a sailor, it meant good luck.

Sailors believed that if a cat licked its fur against the grain it meant a hailstorm was coming; if it sneezed, rain was on the way; and if it was frisky, the wind would soon blow.

Sailors believed cats could start storms with the magic stored in their tails so they always kept them well fed and contented

LEFT FOOT

Disaster will follow if you step onto a boat with your Left foot first. 

WEAPONS

belaying pin - A short wooden rod to which a ship's rigging is secured. A common improvised weapon aboard a sailing ship, because they're everywhere, they're easily picked up, and they are the right size and weight to be used as clubs.

blunderbuss - A muzzle-loading gun with a distinctive, flared muzzle, common among pirates and privateers, and typically loaded with a number of small lead balls. The purpose of the flared muzzle was to spread out the shot, though experiments have shown no difference compared to guns with a non-flared muzzle.

buckle - A small, often rounded shield held in one’s fist to protect against an opponent’s sword. The buckle could also be used to strike a blow to an opponent’s face.

case shot - A collection of small projectiles put in cases to fire from a cannon; a canister-shot.

See also grape shot.

cat o’ nine tails (sometimes referred to as captain’s daughter) - A whip with nine lashes used for flogging. "A taste of the cat" might refer to a full flogging.

chain shot - Two cannonballs chained together and aimed high in order to destroy masts and rigging.

chase guns - Cannon situated at the bow of a ship, used during pursuit.

cutlass - A short, heavy sword with a curved blade used by pirates and sailors. The sword has only one cutting edge and may or may not have a useful point.

gabion - A cylindrical wicker basket filled with earth and stones, used in building fortifications.

grape shot - Small cannon balls packed into a cannon. Notably, the pirate Black Bart (Bartholomew Roberts) was killed by grapeshot.

grapple (also grappling hook, grappling iron, or grapnel) - An iron shaft with claws at one end, usually thrown by a rope and used for grasping and holding, especially one for drawing and holding an enemy ship alongside.

gun - A cannon.

hail-shot - A shot that scatters like hail when fired from a cannon.

powder chest - An exploding wooden box filled with scrap metals and gun powder, usually secured to the side of a ship to thwart a boarding enemy.

spike - To render (a muzzleloading gun) useless by driving a spike into the vent.

PHRASOLOGY 

Take with a grain of salt because some of these smell of bullshit and multiple sources confirmed them.

black jack - A drink container made of leather.

black spot - A black smudge on a piece of paper used by pirates as a threat. A black spot is often accompanied by a written message specifying the threat. Most often a black spot represents a death threat.

bumbo (or bumboo) - A popular pirate drink made from rum, water, sugar and nutmeg or cinnamon.

bung hole - A dispensing hole in a wooden barrel typically sealed with a cork

cackle fruit - Hen’s eggs.

clap of thunder - A strong, alcoholic drink.

crack Jenny’s tea cup – to spend a night in a whorehouse

crimp – to procure men by trickery or coercion

draught (also draft) – 1) he amount taken in by a single act of drinking. 2) The drawing of a liquid, as from a cask or keg.

give no quarter – spare no lives

gout - A disease that can be the result of lead poisoning, causinga buildup of uric acid, most commonly in the toes, and especially the big toe. The main symptom is inflammation of joint tissue leading to sore, swollen skin. The effected areas can become so tender that the slightest touch to them causes extreme pain. Pirates sometimes drank from pewter mugs (see tankard) which often contained lead.

grog blossom - A redness on the nose or face of persons who drink ardent spirits to excess.

grog - An alcoholic liquor, especially rum, diluted with water. Admiral Vernon is said to have been the first to dilute the rum of sailors (about 1745.)

hang the jib - To pout or frown.

hempen halter - The hangman’s noose.

hardtack - A hard biscuit or bread made from flour and water baked into a moisture-free rock to prevent spoilage; a pirate ships staple. Hardtack has to be broken into small pieces or soaked in water before eaten.

hogshead – 1) A large cask used mainly for the shipment of wines and spirits, 2) A unit of measurement equal to approximately one hundred gallons.

holystone - A piece of soft sandstone used for scouring the wooden decks of a ship. Smaller holystones were called "prayer books" and larger ones "Bibles" and it may have originated because the task was historically done down on ones knees, just as in prayer. In the height of its practice, a captain in the Royal Navy might call for the decks to be holystoned daily, which could take up to four grueling hours.

hornswoggle - To cheat.

keelhaul - To punish someone by dragging them under a ship, across the keel where barnacles would build up, until near-death or death. Both pirates and the Royal Navy were fond of this practice.

letter of marque - A document given to a sailor (privateer) giving him amnesty from piracy laws as long as the ships plunders are of an enemy nation. A large portion of the pirates begin as privateers with this symbol of legitimacy. The earnings of a privateer are significantly better than any of a soldier at sea. Letters of marque aren't always honored, however, even by the government that issues them. Captain Kidd had letters of marque and his own country hanged him anyway.

loaded to the gunwales - To be quite drunk.

Maroon - To abandon a person on a deserted coast or island with little in the way of supplies. It is a fairly common punishment for violation of a pirate ship's articles, or offending her crew because the victims death cannot be directly connected to his former brethren.

measured fer yer chains - To be outfitted for a gibbet cage.

Nelson’s folly - Rum.

nipperkin  - A small cup or drink.

parley - A conference or discussion between opposing sides during a dispute, especially when attempting a truce, originating from the French, "parler," meaning "to speak."

quarter - derived from the idea of "shelter", quarter is given when mercy is offered by pirates. Quarter is often the prize given to an honorable loser in a pirate fight.

reef the sails - To shorten the sails by partially tying them up, either to slow the ship or to keep a strong wind from putting too much strain on the masts.

rope's end - Another term for being flogged.

run a rig  - To play a trick.

salmagundi - A salad usually consisting of chopped meat, anchovies, eggs, and onions, often arranged in rows on lettuce and served with vinegar and oil.

splice the mainbrace - To have a drink or perhaps several drinks.

spring upon her cable -  to come around in a different direction, oftentimes as a surprise maneuver.

squiffy - Somewhat intoxicated; tipsy.

take a caulk - To take a nap. On the deck of a ship, between planks, was a thick caulk of black tar and rope to keep water from between decks. This term came about either because sailors who slept on deck ended up with black lines across their backs or simply because sailors laying down on deck were as horizontal as the caulk of the deck itself.

[definitelynotplanetfall]

Long(?) post about not understanding what makes literature important. Nothing new in it. Just rambling.

Occasionally I remember and am amused by the fact that a random literary magazine has mild cancellation-dirt on me because one class required us to submit Something and the Something contained Problems. This post is about different Problems.

Fools that they are, they said “any genre is fine” and opened themselves up to rabble writing about space bullshit for bad reasons such as “space bullshit is fun” rather than enlightened reasons such as “space bullshit can be a metaphor for mundane bullshit.”

Which isn’t wrong exactly. Outer Wilds (which I evidently cannot shut up about despite never having played it and it being old news at this point) is transparently about coming to terms with mortality and quite frankly you’d have to be very dense to deny that. But it’s also about archaeologizing mysterious space goats. Any inept dumbass can run up to you and shout “ya gonna die lol.“ The “meaningful” meaning only has any weight because it’s fully integrated with the world you’ve been exploring for such un-literary reasons as “because it’s cool” and “because I want to know what happened here.”

I legitimately do not understand the point of literary fiction. “Oh it communicates Meaning(tm)!” Write out the meaning then. Save everyone the time by not encoding it in a boring story. Or encode it in an interesting story.

“Oh the story doesn’t matter! It’s really about pretty words!“

I see this one a lot and frankly it doesn’t even make sense. “Combine words to sound pretty” does not directly lead to “countless stories about nothing happening all written in the same dreary voice.” You are skipping several steps in your reasoning there. There is nothing stopping you from writing pretty words about wizards, or pretty words that do not form a coherent narrative, or pretty words arranged purely based on sound that cannot even be interpreted as sentences.

...I’m going to regret making this analogy, but by way of illustration, there was a post on stupidpol many months ago that stuck with me where someone thought it would be a good idea to have universal military service specifically for the harsh regimentation of presentation, to disabuse Da Yoof of their shallow bourgeois individualist hair dye etc. so they can focus on the REAL things that set them apart as individuals (would not elaborate).

There was thankfully pushback to this nonsense and a bunch of asking for an explanation of what is real and fake individuality and all the person could say was “if you don’t intuitively know what it means I can’t explain it adequately with words, and you’re the one that’s doing this dogmatically and unthinkingly, somehow“ and while the literature thing is less egregious it strikes me as similar in shape? “Thing that brings you joy must be removed and replaced with thing you dislike. I will not posit a reason for this but will treat you as morally and intellectually deficient if you ask for one.”

It is, fair cop, the same thing as me saying “humans must not be muscular because you can directly observe how disgusting they are and everyone that disagrees has taste disease.“ (The difference is that I am right, unlike the others who merely falsely assert that the difference is that they are right.)

There are explanations, in the case of literature, but they’re nothing explanations. The counterarguments are trivially easy to notice. I don’t know why these are conversation enders. They are not atomic! There are rebuttals! It’s always “ah, I understand the importance of saying things everyone already knows“ ????????

Like, if the goal is for everyone to have “good taste”

And good writing Says Something Important About Human Nature

This means the list of Important Things About Human Nature is known, and probably written down somewhere, in order to standardize taste to it.

Which calls into question why it’s important for writing to Say Something Important because the Something Important has already been said and is universally known, and if we’ve established that writing that doesn’t Say Something Important is mindless trash, the story in not necessary. Because the important thing exists separately, and if you remove the important thing from the story the story is just mindless trash, so you’re just putting the important thing in a container you admit is worthless and saying that’s better?

I’m incredibly confused.

[bruhwhyth0]

WHY THO?

Jesus Christ I was really hoping I’d never have to do this again. I honestly don’t know what is worse, having to watch another shitty movie or rereading my old blog posts and realizing that they were lower in quality than the movies I was reviewing. Fortunately it doesn’t really matter because I know for a fact that my -2 followers don’t seem to mind. But here I am. Once again I must swallow my pride and sumit myself to literal torture all in the name of a grade. To my suprise choosing a crappy movie was almost as difficult as watching one. So many options. So much low hanging fruit. However movies of this nature can always be a mixed bag. I remember when I first started this blog a few years ago some reviews never left my drafts because I didn't have much to write about. Sometimes a movie is so mediocre, so bad, that it can’t even excel at being an awful pile of crap. I chose to write about bad movies because I figured it would be entertaining. You’d think some films, in their own demented way, could at least entertain. But no. Can’t even get that right. I’d find myself at 2’o’clock in the morning looking at my notes only to realize that I basically wrote nothing. All I had was a lingering sense of regret and confusion; like I’d just woken up from a drunken one night stand. All I could do is ask myself, “What the hell did I just watch?” So as I revisit this deserted island I call my blog for what most likely will be the last time, I want to make sure that it is worth it. If I’m going to verbally assault a movie, I’m going to make sure it is an easy target. That was my thought process at least. I soon realized that just because a movie is easy to write about, that doesn’t mean it is easy to watch.

So what movie did I force upon my soul do you ask? Why CATS of course. Because who doesn’t like Cats? Everyone loves cats. What’s not to love about an ungrateful and rude animal that walks around your house like it owns the place. An animal that bites, scratches, and claws at anything it deems unworthy. “Let's make a movie, based off the perverted 80s Broadway production that centered around these literal spawns of Satan,” said every Hollywood executive with their head up their ass. As a matter of fact they thought it was such a good idea that they dropped 95 million U.S. dollars on it.

Now before I continue, as I typed “cats budget” in my google search bar, take a guess what came up after “cats bu..”. CATS BUTTHOLE SMELL. Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell is wrong with people? I tried recreating it in the search bar to screenshot but I couldn’t get it to come up, but trust me. I know what I saw. What is it with cat people man? Seriously. Really threw me off my train of thought.

But yeah, 95 big ones. A lot of good things could have been done with that money, but nope. We needed a live action adaptation of Cats. Did anyone who thought this was a good idea even see the play? That shit was weird. I didn’t watch it, cause, well why the hell would I?

But from the bare minimum research that I did do, the general consensus was that it was a shitty play that made lots of money because people are dumb and will watch anything. I guess producers were hoping lightning would strike twice. If you saw the play you would know that there is literally no plot. It has nothing. It is literally a bunch of weirdos dressed like anthropomorphic cats dry humping each other and singing for 2 hours. I swear its target audience had to consist of lonely 12 years old, sad housewives, and perverts. I tried watching the musical just to get a general reference of the living hell I was going to put myself in only to be utterly mortified. My eyes and ears didn’t last 5 minutes. How it made all the money it did baffles me. But I’m not here to talk about this crime against humanity, I’m here to rip into its bastard child. And boy, oh boy, is there a lot to talk about.

$14.99 in and I’m already regretting my life choices. Everything in my life has led me to this moment and I really wish I could change that. Thanks to what a box office bomb this movie was, I can’t rent it anywhere. I can only buy it. Figures. You're already off to a bad start movie. 2 minutes into the opening scene and I already hate it. People walking around on all fours in fursuits, licking their genitals, singing dancing, some crappy asymmetric musical. WHY! Oh god why did people make this? What kind of furry bullshit is this? I am going to be completely transparent. I’m writing this while I’m watching the movie. I’m not even 5 minutes in and I want to blow my brains out. This is not hyperbole, I wish it was. I can’t dude. I can’t watch this fucking movie. All the characters speak in these weird haikus with British accents. I can’t. I just can’t. I don’t know what anyone is saying half the freaking time. So many made up words and phrases. It's like the script was written by some Dr. Suess rejected. I genuinely have no idea what is going on. I was really hoping that for once one of my reviews wouldn’t sound like the rantings of a madman. But I can’t help it. This crap is rotting my brain. Seriously what is going on. Maybe I’m a simpleton who doesn’t get musicals, but I shit you not there is no plot. I have no idea what the hell is going on. How do you have a movie with no plot?

It’s just singing about being cats... and their FEET. JESUS CHRIST THEY HAVE FEET. No CGI paws. BARE. HUMAN. FEET. God why. How as an actor, do you go on set, act like a literal animal and tell yourself, “yeah this is gonna pan out great.” How did they sit down and go, “I’m going to sit here, lick a fake bowl of milk, sing and dance nonsense, then proceed to lick my non-existent cat balls.” I literally watched an actor snarl directly into the camera. When I went to find out who it was, I was unsurprised to see that all the pictures of the actors were gone. Just names. With a little digging I found out it was Ian Mckellen, you know, from Lord of the Rings. Magneto from Xmen. That Ian Mckellen. Yup, and he snarled to the camera like a cat. Anything for a paycheck right? Who am I to judge, I watched 2019’s Cats for an English class. Who is really losing here, cause frankly I don’t know anymore. If I have anything positive to say about this movie is that it has less dry humping than its source material. Key word less. I better get an A for this.

An hour into the movie and I still don’t know what the fuck is going on. Some dude in overalls is tap dancing. He's a “railway cat” cause he's a conductor or something. I physically cannot do this. I'm dying on the inside. A light inside me is slowly fading. Countless abhorrent musical numbers. Too many for a man to take. To put things in perspective, I did not like Hamilton. Did I respect it for what it was? Of course. Not my cup of tea though. Hamilton was a great musical, arguably one of the best, and I did not enjoy it whatsoever. Now here I am watching Cats. Just a little perspective.

As I came to the end of the movie I saw that I missed all kinds of things. There was a love plot, some kind of contest, and villain. But that didn’t concern me. All I could focus on was how I wasted an hour and a half of my life. 

An hour and a half wasted on this.

Do you think God left us because he feared what he created? I sure as hell do. The philosophers were right. Everyday Pantheism is making more and more sense. And if not that nihilism. God is dead. God is most certainly dead. Don’t believe me? The GIF above is all the proof you need.

I was hoping that for once one of these blogs would have some sense of conformity. Some sort of cohesion. Maybe an ounce of legitimacy. But I couldn’t. There is something about these movies that drain the life from you. Every second spent looking at my computer screen I felt brain cells dying. I might as well have drunk a whole 750 milliliter bottle of Everclear. That or bang my head against a wall for 15 minutes. Either would have been just as effective; and probably more efficient.

I thought that I could improve upon the quality of my blog. When I reread my old post I realized that they had no depth. I thought maybe it was me. Right? I was 15, What did I know about good writing? No. It never had anything to do with me. Movies like Cats are such horrendous abominations of human creation, that there is literally no way to talk about them with any form of professional effort. They are shallow. There is nothing to analyze. How can you analyze garbage? Art requires respect if it wants to be reviewed and judged accordingly. Cats and films like it don’t have my respect and never will. I type this with immense pleasure. Never again. Never will I ever put myself through this bull again. Thankfully, for the last time. I can ask Why Tho?

[wizardsnwookies]

DFD032118 - The Halls of the Dead

What you seek, lies beyond these doors. Many great things. The hoard, and something else of even greater value. Surtur furrowed his brow, listening to the quiet whispers in his head. The centuries revealed themselves in its voice, the way it breathed out its carefully chosen words. He could hear the strength of those who had weilded it before him, his father, his father’s father, a great great grandmother, and so many others. He knew their inflection, how they spoke to him through the flail, so he could tell that final statement meant something important

“’Greater Value?’“

A shield, a brother an arms to myself. We share a spirit and a bond like no other. Claim it, and together we will wield power like no one has ever known.

“How? Tell me how to get past this blasted door.” The guilded doors on the other side of the alter were proving stubborn. The teeth affixed to the mask had yielded no results and Surtur’s aching shoulder was testament to it’s resistance to shows of force.

It needs teeth, teeth that have not been offered to it before. There was a pause. How far are you willing to go for this?

Surtur thought for a moment. It was a loaded question with every implication that things were only going to get tougher from here on out. Still, he had come this far and he was not about to back out.

“To the end of the path.”

Good. Sacrifices may have to be made to move forward on this path. 

Surtur heaved a sigh and severed the connection. The mask was the only evidence they had of teeth since entering this place. No skulls had been found despite the abundance of human remains used to build the vile organ in the corner. He turned to face Siggrun, arms folded behind him.

“It needs teeth.”

“Hrmmm. Maybe we should check out the torture room again. Perhaps we missed something.” He turned, readying his stride back towards the other passage when his eyes fell upon the woman. Raven was always pale as the snow that covered the land, but the skin around her neck was starting to show a rosy hue. “You alright lass?”

“I think there’s something wrong with my neck, it’s starting to feel a bit-” Her words were choked off in an instant, the gold chain that once draped around her shoulders snapped tightly around her throat, digging into the flesh and turning it from a soft rosy color to a bright red.

“GET IT OFF!!” Panic grew in her voice, her breath becoming more and more shallow. He clawed at the chain but it only grew tighter and tighter, escaping her prying fingers. 

“Calm down lass, I have it.” A flash of light popped into existence around her neck in the form of a phantom axe, cutting through the air. The gold chain sparked as if hewn by the blade and fell slack once again. Raven gulped in the freezing air, lifting the necklace off her shoulders and tossing it onto the ground before her. This time, the axe that came down upon it was very real, and with a single blow, Siggrun had rendered the glittering jewelry into worthless shards.

“Hey now, that was unnecessary, we sill could have sold that.”

Siggrun glared daggers at the Bard, his shoulders heaving with a heavy intake of breath. “What did I tell you about touching things?”

“Oh come on, how are we supposed to do our jobs if-”

“And what’s worse, you dragged her into doing your dirty work for you!” He pushed towards Baldric, despite the size difference, it was hard to not be intimidated by the elevated tone he was commanding. Looking into his eyes, the bard could see his companions frustration towards him had reached a point that yet to be achieved.

“What she did, she did on her own. I was just trying to help her make a little money is all.”

“She could have been killed!!”

“I didn’t tell her to put the damn thing on did I?”

The tense stare down continued in silence for a few moments before finally Siggrun turned away in a huff, thundering towards the shattered door. “Just you mind yourself from now on boy. I won’t have much more of your nonsense.”

---

Surtur’s stumpy fingers felt something smooth and cold wedged into one of the cracks in the coffin wood. It was stuck in pretty deep too, but after prying it out with the tip of his dagger, he triumphantly held up three small teeth into the light. Finally, progress.

“Hey, choir boy, got something that might interest you.” The bard sauntered in brazenly holding out a rolled up scroll of parchment. It was not minutes earlier that Siggrun had called him out on his nonsense and lack of caution, and here he was again flaunting it in the mans face.

“What?” Baldric smirked at the sour demeanor with which he was met. “For all we know this could be a magical scroll, which we may need somewhere down the line.”

“Is this all you found?” The dwarf snatched the scroll out of his hand, starting him down between hard set eyebrows.

“You said not to touch anything, but this looked important considering the circumstances.” The bard produced a small scrap of paper, on which a note was scrawled in common.

“ ‘For those who fail to make their offering in the coin fountains, and those who willfully miss lead Aleth, a terrible curse will befall.’“ For once, Siggrun agreed with him, this was important information. So far the only thing they had seen had been the two basins by the door. He checked his coin purse and felt its heft. A few coins were a solid investment to ensure another curse would not befall any one of them.

“Fine, is that all then?”

“Yup.”

Normally Siggrun had a hard time discerning the truth from lies with the bard. The man was very good with words, and spun them like a weaver would fine silk. Whether it was the overwhelming sense of dread that fell over all of them, or the weariness of having yet to rest for the evening, Baldric was off his game and his lies were as transparent as glass.

“Boy...”

“Oh, yeah. Silly me, I forgot I found these too.” From out his pack was produced two gilded tomes, dusty, but otherwise in grand condition. The pages were lined with gold leaf, and obsidian and ruby gems accented the covers. One held the all too familiar Du’vanku runes, but the other was written in common for all to see.

“ ‘The Grand Theory of the Creation of Liquid Time through the Utilization of Expended Spiritual Essence.’“ Siggrun read the title aloud and set it aside.

“ “Expended Spiritual Essence?’“ Raven didn’t like the sound of that.

“Tortured Souls Lass. Less we forget what evil this place holds.”

“The white substance then?” Surtur inquired, already knowing the answer.

“Aye, Liquid Time it seems.”

Siggrun flipped through the second book haphazardly, apparently some sort of holy text of these creatures. Within he found mentions of a Symbiote God that sent a chill down his spine. What god would allow such atrocities? It mattered not, Gor was all powerful, his might would crush whatever this Symbiote God was. He moved on to the scroll. Any magical scroll here would not be considered lightly, but he did not doubt its usefulness if that was indeed what it held.

He realized too late that the words carefully inked on the parchment were nothing short than a curse upon the reader. He had but moments to react, and if he so choose, turn the curse upon someone else...someone...more deserving perhaps? Siggrun looked at the bard and considered it for a moment. It would be a lesson to be learned for sure. No, for HE would have been the one to place the curse, not Baldric’s own foolishness. The lesson would be tainted, and he would learn nothing.

“This is why we don’t touch things.” Siggrun sighed and as the rest of the group watched, a pale fog clouded his eyes, beginning as a mist in the corners before billowing out and turning the once dark centers into a milky orb blinding him to the world.

Frustrated hands tore the scroll in two, then in quarters, before finally rendering them into bits of confetti. Sirrgrun opened his palms and let them fall to the floor, muttering a soft prayer to Gor. Once again a flash of red light accented the pale glow of the enchanted candlestick, and before the bits of parchment had fallen to the ground, the cloudiness in the dwarf’s eyes dissipated and once again, vision was his.

“Do you still doubt the power of Gor?” He turned to Surtur who merely shrugged, unimpressed.

“Once I have that shield, I’ll have no need for Gods.”

“Shield?”

“Nevermind, let’s get moving then.”

---

Baldric wasn’t one for writing things himself, what was the point? All the best songs have already been written. Besides, why risk a coin by singing your own song when there was a surefire crowd-pleaser already out there? Still, as they made their way through the gilded doors and into the halls of the dead, he couldn’t help be feel a spark of creativity.

What know ye of death and rot? What smells and sights that time does wrought? To flesh and bone and cloth and steel

Where we all go when life continues not In beds of stone, the forever cot The darkness hides fear most unreal

Rows and rows and roses wilted Left behind upon chest plates gilded Priests and soldiers of evil sleep

What know ye of death and rot?

Meh, needs work, he thought. Behind them the faint sound of another ice skull plummeting to the floor echoed through the seemingly endless halls of mausoleums they now found themselves in. 30 feet high bodies were stacked, lining walls that seemed to stretch on forever before leading to a set of stairs that led to a similar room that repeated the process all over again.

He looked back at the two dwarves and cursed under his breath. What hypocrites. All of this nonsense about not touching anything and yet they now walk with their own spoils. Siggrun, shockingly enough, had been the first to break his own rules. One of the very first rooms they encountered seemed to be a small chapel or prayer room. Rather mundane, but at the front of the room was a worn podium with the all too familiar petrification of time. Upon it sat a book bound in human flesh and inked in blood mimicking the tome of names they had discovered in the cabin. While still a vile thing, they were no longer shocked by this point. 

What it held, however was a different story. For the first time in his memory, Baldric saw the war priest grow pale as he read through the pages of the book. Some passages he read aloud, but for the most part, mercifully, he kept the rest of them in the dark as to its contents.

Unthings, monsters made of flesh and dark magic shambling in the darkness of the bards imagination. That book held the key to their creation, something so forbidden in practice that up until now, Baldric had thought the secret art had been long since lost. Sigrrun closed the book and tucked it inside his pack, claiming of course that he wholly intended to properly destroy it. Baldric wondered though. He had no doubt the war priest was insufferably upstanding in his morals, however, even someone like he had to know how valuable such scarce knowledge was to the right buyer.

Surtur was next, robbing the corpses of priests and soldiers through the mausoleums. He was of course warned by Siggrun, who conveniently forgot his own transgressions, that taking things from the dead was not wise. The fool stubbornly proceeded nonetheless, taking coin, a full set of sparkling plate male which he now wore brazenly on his person, and oddly enough a scroll of bardic music. Baldric patted the scroll in his vest pocket, making sure it was still there. The magic was risky, it held the power to randomly teleport them anywhere in the complex. In a pinch, however, it may be the difference between life and death.

Petrified wood groaned as the next door was pushed open, revealing a line of marble pedestals lining the western wall. Each one of them held a book, again bound in flesh, but these books were far lager than any they had come across before. Books so large, that it would require some sort of cart to move them.

“‘The Chronicle of the most Consummate Church of Du’vonku.’“ Siggrun read one of the titles aloud, before looking down the long stretch of pedestals. “Several volumes of it. So much history.”

“How old are these guys?” Baldric kicked at a stone on the floor, idly looking at the books, his mind placing buyers.

“Centuries, maybe a millennia from the looks of it. Not much is known about them.”

“So...these are valuable is what you are saying?”

“Exceedingly so. A wealth of knowledge...and coin. It is a shame we can’t come back for them.”

“Why not? Assuming Lord Umber is good on his word we walk away from this rich, more than enough money to hire some crews to come back and dismantle what’s left. That organ out there for example.”

“Or the gyroscope in the torture room.” Surtur chimed in. The strange device they found was a marvel of astrology, mapping the movements of the stars and celestial objects to a degree of perfection that was astounding. It was a shame that such use was used to slowly tear its victim into pieces.

“Have you learned nothing about taking things from this place?” Siggrun shook his head.

“Oh please, what about that book in your pack?” Baldric balked.

“I suppose he’s right, a bit too late for that.” Surtur admired his new armor, rubbing a bit of dust off the worn shine.

Siggrun didnt’ bother to argue, his mind was elsewhere. It had been since Surtur found the previous owner of his new armor. Deep within the recesses of the soldiers mausoleums they found a decaying body of a dwarven soldier. A brother in arms, who served under a dark god doing evil deeds. It sickened him to recall it. What was more troubling was what he found in his hands.

While Surtur stripped the man of his armor, Siggrun walked to a corner and examined the snowglobe in the light. Just like one of the countless others they had found outside the library, it held a scene of the cemetery and decrepit cabin above their heads. Again, four figures were seen trudging through the snow. Only this time, their gate was quicker, panicked. A desperate scramble through the knee deep snow. Stumbling over the headstones, tumbling, and scrambling to their feet as they clawed at the ground. Something was chasing them, something that had these figures scared for their very lives. Shadows emerged from the cabin, projecting elongated shapes on the snow outside the front steps. From the portal a flood spewed forth of dead and decaying bodies, a shambling army of the undead. Siggrun watched as row after row of these creatures streamed forth from the cabin and into the snow. Empty eye sockets fixed into a dead stare, arms outstretched, mouths open in a baleful moan. They just kept coming. An endless sea of death, sweeping down the mountain.

[reitziluz]

my writing playlist for days spent dreaming shit-all

the difference between oldschool songfic and just vicariously living through music while writing is just the amount of songs on the playlist, i’ve found out. this one has 150+ songs, mostly in japanese (coz i can’t write and listen to the same language at the same time), and of varying relevance. 

some of the songs feel like spoilers to me? but multiple people asked me to share this sooooo enjoy! if you want me to talk about a specific song or throw specific lyrics at you, hit me with an ask with it, ahaha. i also always welcome recommendations!!

* means it was recommended to me (and survived on the list pfft sorry) [+] means it’s a v important song [-] means the song might not be that good a fit but it helps me write so fdhgsh  (!) means i have translated or am in the middle of translating a song (if applied to a song with existing translations, it’s because i wanna have a go at it too but it’s not as much of a priority dfgdfhgsd)

if a symbol is after an artist it applies to all their songs

HANAHAKI!SERIREI PLAYLIST

164 

ama no jaku 

tatoeba, ima koko ni okareta hana ni

238 - dream of rain [+]

40meter-p

karakuri pierrot [-]

jenga

ael - cat allergy

ankoya - don’t go look for someone like me

aotani - i’m sorry i’m not honest

balloon

kabin ni fureta

charles

redire

asa o nomu

bastille - no one’s here to sleep *

beacons - maboroshi sweetheart [+]

buzzg - world lampshade [-]

capslack 

odori to chishidoku [+] (!) 

one for one [+]

chouchou-p - about me

deco*27

streaming heart

two breaths walking

coward mont blanc

reversible campaign

mkdr

eve

dramaturgy

nonsense literature

ewe

quietroom

krank

cafne

kurotsubaki

ai ni kijutsushi

lili

lead crown

fauve - tallulah *

giga-p  [-]

no title  

undead enemy  

guiano - blue

hanatan  (!)

erica  

shiori  [-]  

kooru hana * 

hanyuu maigo

ghost in the hell

hello night

harufuri

we shall not have shallow dreams  [-]

slight fever and impatience

unfit for humanity

bergamot girl

harry p - voice  (!)

hello tanita-san - a petal of oleander for the disgracefulness enough to expect facile salvation [+]

hifumi

deathly loneliness attacks

hana ga ochita node

imagine dragons - bleeding out *

imogen heap *

you know where to find me

clear the area

the moment i said it

in love with a ghost

flowers

sorry for not answering the phone, i’m too busy trying to fly away

i thought we were lovers

inumary shibaigoya

cherry-picking factory

a certain family’s tea party

kanzaki iori - i want to be your god

karasuyasabou - love letter from melancholy

kei

pierrot

a leaf letter

kenshi yonezu

koi to byonetsu *

eine kleine

flowerwall

santamaria

loser

blue jasmine

kous  

kuchinashi no hana 

liar fake flower

lovewave - the night *

*luna - jealousy

mato - ultramarine parade

maretu

scrumize

white happy

mel - goodbye, ms flower thief

mikito-p - shinzou democracy

minatsuki toka - unraveled ribbon, wavering heart  [-]

misumi - scenery like a picture

n-buna  [+]

sayonara wonder noise

theater love song

transparent elegy

alice trust

the first train and kafka

mairieux

umiyuri kaiteitan

shirayuki

なぎさ - 花葬

nakano4 - rem

napoli p - laughing mannequin [+] (!)

nekobolo

life game *

palmtop wonderland

hinekure neji to ame

ai no uta

nekomushi p - one of repetition  [-]

niki - -error

nuyuri 

fragile 

jinsei bakari

fixer

n.k. - when the hydrangeas bloom, i fall in love with you

orangestar

amekigoe zankyou

alice in freezer

asu no yozora shoukaihan

patrick wolf

penzance

bluebells 

this weather

house

picon - ningen datta

pinocchiop  [+]

crappy fantasy days

sayonara human

fushigi no kohanasaichi

oz

happy very happy

aimaina

love is onomatopoeia

at the mercy of emptiness

plastic tree  [+]  (!) 

sanbika

fuyu no umi wa yuuei kinshi de

gerbera

veranda

snow flower

itai ao

tetris

namae no nai hana

kuuchuu buranko

bloom

irogoto

gichi gichi

barrier

ame ni utaeba

pote - it won’t always end with a happy end

sasakure.uk

spider thread monopoly  [-]

butterfly effect

monster is dying to eat you

scop - clean freak

siinamota

city lights

astronauts

summer gratz - skulls shall bloom at the end credits 

tadanoco

walk tall and die

alkaline adult

tadanoco x ktkt - ghost straight [+] (!)

taku.k - ヘドニストの幸福な食卓 [-] (!)

task

winter rain [+]

break the night that won’t dawn    

tohma  (!)

azalea no bourei  

shinzou

whoo - the forgotten song

wowaka - unknown mother-goose

xhloe - good-bye my life  [-]

yuki kaai

copy and pastime  (!)

loop spina

pascal beats

yurashina - sign

yuxuki - a love song (it’s too clumsy)

zddn - vain

[tamaraneanlives]

I’m just gonna say it right now. Ishvallan!Ed is fucking stupid and misses the whole point of the show. Edward Elric is some white boy who willingly joined an oppressive, militaristic institution that both was responsible, and during the time of the story, still does commit massacres and oppresses people of color for its own gain. Y’all don’t racebend him because you wanna explore the politics of it. You just do it because you just wanna think up shallow angst about him being Ishvallan in the Amestrian military as if Miles isn’t standing right the fuck there for you to write about. Write about Scar for Christ sakes. Make Isvallan OC’s and explore their culture, do something that doesn’t involve that racist nonsense bc you all are being really transparent with this nonsense tbh. And for the record, racebendig Mustangto Xinguese is just as bad imo. 

[duaneodavila]

Mentoring Isn’t Magic, But It Is A Gift

Over the years, I’ve mentored a great many new lawyers. To mentor, per se, is an obligation. I was mentored by others, and I feel a duty to pay it forward. But whom I mentor is a gift. If you demonstrate a level of intelligence, integrity and zeal, you are worthy of the gift. If not, then find someone else. I may feel an obligation to mentor, but not necessarily you.

It’s a time suck. The demands can come at inconvenient times when I have better things to do, things I would prefer to do more than help you work through a problem. But hey, that’s what it means. If you’re a lousy mentee, then you don’t get the gift. If you don’t see it as a gift, don’t appreciate that I don’t owe you my time and energy, then find another mentor.

But the key is that as much as mentoring may be a duty, it is not a duty to any specific person. And if you, baby lawyer, know it all, then you don’t need my help and I surely don’t need to waste my time. If you’re my mentee, I will go to serious lengths to help you. If not, you’re on your own. Your mommy may owe you love. I do not.

One of the most obvious consequences of the current trend of social justice, the #MeToo movement, is the concern that an inadvertent word or deed will cause a young person to flip out on you.

It’s easy to set aside grossly misogynist responses to the #MeToo movement. But recent surveys suggest that a much subtler backlash is occurring and threatens the efforts some companies and organizations have made to support the advancement of women through leadership ranks.

Three recent surveys arrived at similar troublesome findings: A growing number of men report being uncomfortable or afraid to work alone with a woman.  Senior men are increasingly reluctant to mentor younger women or include them in opportunities like business travel or client dinners.

This isn’t about a mentor sexually touching a mentee, but the myriad concerns that arise from uttering a wrong word, based upon whatever lexicon of words are unacceptable at any hour, or a joke, or traditional advice that fails to comport with the current trend in microaggressions. Shockingly, some adults don’t really give a damn about words that make kids cry.

To the mentee, this may be fully justifiable cause to accuse someone of misogyny. To the mentor, this is a minefield of nonsense. Who needs to wander in this minefield?

Picture a client dinner, where the old white man client compliments the mentee on her appearance, thinking he’s being polite and pleasant. The mentee takes it as an outrage, an obvious dimunition of her professionalism. If the mentor fails to chastise the client, and lose his business by telling him that he is a scum-sucking misogynist, the mentor is complicit in the sexism and the mentee feels she must accuse him of such. Fun dinner, right?

A psychiatrist/psychoanalyst cum “leadership strategist,” Prudy Gourguechon, tries to “explain” away this concern. In a anecdote that suggests her husband may be the man least in touch with reality or the foil for fabricated stories. she explains that a multitude of surveys are showing the obvious, that men are choosing not to mentor women.

When I told my husband, who led a consulting firm for 40 years and employed, mentored and sponsored many young women, that I was writing about the #MeToo backlash, he laughed, thinking I was making it up.  I said “No, it’s a real thing. Men are afraid to be alone with women at work.”  “Then they’re jerks,” said my husband, unhelpfully.

In the unlikely event that there is any truth to this story, the takeaway is that Prudy’s hubby may be the most clueless consultant ever. More to the point, it offers a glimmer of how Prudy, and thus Forbes, assumes its readers are sufficiently shallow not to notice the stawman shift.

So why in the world are men afraid to be alone with women at work?

The implication of the surveys is that men are afraid of being falsely accused.  But false accusations of sexual impropriety are actually very rare.

There is no cite for the assertion of rarity, which makes sense as it is unsupportable. And there is no definition of the vague phrase “sexual impropriety.” Vagaries are all the rage, as it saves people from the labor of having to deal with such far-ranging issues as physical sexual assault to stare rape.

Prudy recounts an experience on twitter that reveals the point. After following a man, she received this twit:

“Hello, dear.  Great to meet you here.”

I was startled, confused, angry and acutely uncomfortable. Why in the world would some stranger call me “dear”?  Didn’t he see me as a businesswoman? How about as an equal, or as a human being?

Most of us would recognize his use of “dear” as a troll. Prudy didn’t. But she lists a string of adjectives about her feelings, all stemming from the one word. A mature response would be to shrug, unfollow and move on. But Prudy was “acutely uncomfortable.” If he was her mentor, would she accuse him of sexism? Would it be true or false? Was this the “sexual impropriety” of which she wrote?

Whether an accusation is true or false depends on how one interprets improprieties, whether they are whatever makes the mentee “feel unsafe” or hurts their feelings. Or less discussed but more likely, doesn’t actually do either, but fits within the paradigm of things the mentee believes she should be offended by, and so pretends to be.

But even if it’s rare, who needs it? There are many young people who seek mentors, who find value in experience and appreciate whatever wisdom, connections, insight they can gain from someone who’s been there. One insight is that some mentees are more hassle than they’re worth, and only a fool invites needless trouble into their world to make their life.

My mentees have been male and female. I take parental joy in helping them, watching them succeed. And yes, I learn from them as well, given that my pop culture knowledge is in constant need of updating. I have no plans of refusing to mentor a female lawyer for fear of accusation of misogyny, but then, that’s mostly because I have no fear of the accusation. My thoughts on the subject are about as transparent as possible, and I’ve been lambasted for my sexiist disregard of social justice and political correctness regularly. It’s all good with me.

But I have no HR department to answer to, no job to lose, no cool reputation as a woke ally to defend. I can afford to be accused of pretty much anything. My clients have other concerns, and most lawyers with whom I work are beyond such infantile concerns. If a mentor can be harmed by an accusation, then why take the risk? Remember, this is a gift. The only polite response to a gift is to say “thank you,” even if its not a gift you want.

H/T Patrick  Maupin

Mentoring Isn’t Magic, But It Is A Gift republished via Simple Justice