#slate culture

[fffartonceaweek]

Best Podcasts of 2024

.

SF ULTRA (Sean McTiernan)

(incl. Live at the Death Factory (w/ Astrid Rose) (is back! ) )

.

the others …

YALLA / One State Solution (SoundofAnarchy/The Hebrew Canaanite youtube )

Trillbilly Worker's Party Podcast

Boonta Vista

Pod Damn America (incl. Why you Mad ? & That's my Podcast, I don't know you )

Your Kickstarter Sucks

Trash Delivery

Death//Sentence

Well, there's your Problem

MinionDeathCult

Eros&Massacre ( Samm Deighan/Cinepunx)

Bookpilled youtube

Plagued by Visions youtube

Corner Späti

Trash Future incl. Kill James Bond, Glue Factory, (Well there's your Problem)

The Important Cinema Club Baystreet Video Podcast Michael and Us The very fine Comic Book Podcast

Toilet ov Hell

qaa

Weird Studies

Owen Jones

Bad Hasbara

I hate Bill Maher w/ Will Weldon

Backlisted

Unsung Horrors, Thick Lines, Guys Podcast with Bryan Quinby, Kreative Kontrol, Beep beep Lettuce, Proj. Booth, The Outlaw Bookseller youtube, The Bookubus youtube ...

[thesilicontribesman]

Early Medieval Slate With Practice Lettering, St. Blane's, 800 to 1000 CE, National Museums Scotland, Edinburgh

[jidblogger]

The Importance Of She-Ra To LGBTQ+ Storytelling

Friend of mine wrote this article, you should all take a look

[graylinesspam]

Terracotta soldier AU from Rex's pov

Rex has never made his mind up on any idea of faith. Not the kind in a higher power at least. He'd had faith in his brothers. That's why he carried on their traditions. Long after most of them had gone when so many names had been lost to a relatively short period of time. He recites all that he can remember.

He speaks the name of each brother into the cold night air and promises that he will see them at the end of the long march.

It might not be a proper religion. But its all he has left.

And Rex is a man of his word. When he exhales his last lonely breath into the darkness his eyes going blind and his chest still, his legs are the first things he's aware of. The familiar pump of muscles.

One foot in front of the other. Like learning to walk all over again. There's a sea of white as far as the eye can see. A great blinding glare that moves all around him. But slowly it solidifies. The shape of helmets crawling over each other until they start to look like men, One in front of another. Stretching in every direction. Forever.

There isn't enough of him here to really be conscious. There aren't really thoughts in his mind. Just echoes of instincts. Like the instinct to put on foot in front of the other. The instinct to blink until his sight adjusts to the view.

It's the colors slowly emerging that draw his attention. It bleeds through the light one spot at a time. Slowly markings appear on the armor of the men around him. Blue and red and green and gold. One after another. A red circle on the pauldron beside him, a blue line up another arm.

It tickles something within him. Blue. He was blue too right? Once.

He wants to follow the blue. That's where he belongs. The mass of troops shudder once to the side, every line of men staggering one to the right another to the left. Reshuffling themselves like cards. Slipping between each other in interlocking lines. Moving forward. Always forward with ever unified foot fall. But shifting too. reaching out toward each other.

He shifts to the right toward the blue stripe who shifts as well in the same direction, farther ahead now. But there is more blue around both of them. Lines spreading around him like on interconnected web. countless troopers stacked on each other like the solders on playing cards. Shuffling around each other all looking for their own suit.

Always moving forward always together.

The blue solidifies as they shuffle around each other. Filling in the gaps until there's as much of it as there is white. He is blue. He is the blue. They are the blue. All existing here in this place together. Every piece in place.

It felt right. This is where he was always supposed to be. just one among the blue.

They march on forever. Everywhere. Far far away. Everywhere at once. Him among the blue. The blue among the white. Don't all colors come together to make white? Or is that only inside the light?

He marches. One foot in front of forever; one foot behind always.

Moving so much in sync it's like they aren't moving at all.

If everything is moving in the same direction at the same speed then is any of it really moving. What is still if nothing is?

Except....except something is. He sees it because it's blue, he thinks. He is blue and they are all blue. So of course he sees the blue.

It's not moving. It's not with them. That's wrong. They are all blue together.

His feet shuffle him again. Cards in the hands of the collective folding into themselves. There is no edge of everything. Everything is everything. it goes on forever. There is no end. But if there was, that's where he finds the blue.

She stands still. The only thing in everything that isn't moving. She needs to move. With them. He takes another unified step foreword and he is past her now. Marching away.

No. That's not right. He tries to shuffle again but there is no behind. The march is forward. All moving forward with every step. Always one foot in front of the other. He tries to look back but there is no back.

But there is. He can feel it. He can feel her a single steadiness in the flow. Parting the blue. Being among but not part of.

That's not right. He should tell her. Maybe she doesn't remember how. Maybe she doesn't have the word for foot like he didn't have the word blue until he saw it again.

But he can't tell her if she's still back there. He has to get to her. Every step takes him farther away but he knows that isn't right either. He needs to stop.

As soon as he thinks it he does. His feet stuck between always and forever. The cards shuffle around him. Moving on and leaving him behind. He...he is sad about that.

But it's okay. If Everything is always then back is always too. He turns back seeing the faces moving towards him for the first time in forever. He knows them. The faces.

Fives.

Hardcase.

Jesse.

Kix.

Tup.

They see him. See his face for the first time in forever and they stop too. Their feet stalling in time. Behind all of them, way back, he sees her. She's still there. Standing. Waiting patiently.

He remembers how to do this. It's the only thing he remembered before he saw anything here. Marching is easy. One foot....He doesn't know where forever or always are. One foot goes....Infront.

He takes a step and feels like he's learning it all over again. He forgets what the next step is. One foot in front is all his mind conjures. So he tries again. One at a time. One step, two, three.

He walks past the face. the ones moving and those standing still. She's waiting for him. He has to get back to her. He marches towards her....Ahsoka. And it isn't easy like it was before. It isn't everything always. But it is him. It is Rex. He'd forgotten that.

He is Rex. Rex follows Ahsoka.

He will walk back through forever to get to her.

One foot behind forever one foot in front of always. The wrong way. His way. Backwards.

There's another one following him. Another foot falling backwards. He can feel it disrupting the flow with him. One foot after another. One man after another. The blue warps and bends against it's self. Fracturing into a thousand pieces. Breaking away from everything. Becoming singular.

Rex marches back to Ahsoka and Fives follows. They all follow one by one. They are the blue. The 501st. Torrent company. Medics and pilots and snipers. Heavy gunner and scouts. They are men. Soliders. They are singular in the constant flow of everything all the time.

And Ahsoka waits patiently for them to remember.

To remember their names. Each others names. Her name.

She's reciting them.

Rex forgot he could speak. He forgot he could say names.

She says them one by one. "...Oppo, slate, cadaver, coric..."

Rex says them too just to hear them. "Dogma, Hawk, Limp, Chatter..."

Maybe that's how he saw her in the first place. Past all of the blue. Because she said his name. Remembered it for him.

Fives speaks, discovering his voice too. Then Jesse.

Most of the blue stops. Every one Ahsoka remembered then every one each of them remembered until the blue had bled out of the white. Outside of Everything and forever.

"You've all served your time. Served it long and well." She says when there are no more names, "You have earned your rest. But I have a mission. And I am asking for your help. I'm asking you to come back with me."

"Ahsoka" Rex says.

He remembers reciting her name. When he thought she was dead. Hoping if there was something after, then he could at least see her one last time.

Fives says it too. Then Jesse. All the way down the line they say her name. "Ahsoka"

Rex reaches a hand out to her and almost glows when it touches her shoulder. She is solid. Not made of light. Made of something more solid.

He's...he's solid too right? He thinks they were all solid together once. He knocks his vambrace against his chest plate to check and is pleased when it rattles. He hits it again just to hear the noise.

And it grows. One at a time. It rattle far too solid to exist within forever. It is fleeting as temporary as the collision that causes it. It only exists so long as they create it.

He remembers another word. One that isn't a name.

"Oya" he shouts just to hear it.

and it grows

Because He is Rex and Rex follows Ahsoka.

[mafaldaknows]

Oh, is THAT what THIS is?

“… down to bro out.”

🤔

[phoenixcatch7]

Reading loz/lu fics and it's just so interesting how wide the spectrum is of their personalities.

Sometimes it's got an in universe reason (different past (usually gender or species change), recent or ongoing traumatic events, a spectacularly bad first meeting), but sometimes (often) the characters are just... Weirdly angsty or peppy, there's no in between!

And I'm beginning to think less people have played more than one game than I thought XD.

Not that it's anyone's fault! One game is more than enough to be part of it all, and loz is exclusive to Nintendo consoles - and all the older stuff is frustratingly hard to get hold of. Heck, I'm still looking for wind waker, and that was really popular! And then you have to play it! They're not small games!!

But could people writing wild please ease off just a tiiiiiny bit so he can be a semi functional member of society pretty please XD? He's just as much a polite boy as any other member of the chain! He won't even run in shops! He can't attack npcs! He talks to every single person he's ever seen and remembers every single name. Yes, he's three quarters woodland creature with a hefty amount of trauma but he's also a fashionista who managed to avoid accidentally taking sides in a mayoral election and that's not easy!

[murdermost-foul]

not that anyone is familiar with psych or cares but season four had some Real banger episodes for such a silly show that I remember watching as a very young teenager & being Obsessed with like shawn gets a shot in the dark and mr yin presents... which in turn had me watch all of hitchcock's films to catch all the references

[finalgirlsamwinchester]

Rebecca A. Brown. 'Of Radioactive Sprites and Diminutive Tyrants: Hammer’s Monstrous Children' + Dustin Freeley, 'The Monstrous Child Replacement and Repetition in The Shining' from Monstrous Children and Childish Monsters

[owchie-wowchie]

pulpda........

[thats-a-lot-of-cortisol]

Aspect of Order: Primordial & Present-Day

One of the first deities, part of what is known as the Primordial Triad. It created the planes alongside the Aspects of Chaos and the In-Between and held dominion over the Material Plane. It embodied order in the way nature has order: the life cycle, gravity, the tides, the surety that the seasons will change, the patterns that appear in flora and fauna alike, the symmetry of pinecones and butterflies. It was associated with the night as a time of quiet preparation where the world rests, and when one can see the remains of creation in the darkened sky. It is said that the two moons of the Material Plane are its eyes, watching over its creations.

All three members of the Primordial Triad are referred to with "it", so ancient and unfathomable that applying a mortal, transient concept of gender to them seemed almost blasphemous.

Almost.

The modern-day conception of Order is quite different. Though she still reigns over the night and natural laws, her followers have placed her at the forefront of the creation process, reducing the In-Between's role and rejecting Chaos altogether. Though most present-day cultures think of her in this way, many of them do not emphasize her: she is an invisible Over-God, keeping the other deities and forces in line and maintaining cosmic balance from behind the scenes. In places where she is worshipped heavily, however, she is placed at the forefront of the pantheon. In those cases, worship of deities with overlapping domains is either illegal (ex local gods of justice) or considered secondary to her (ex the god of the Wilds). The worship of smaller, local deities is usually discouraged or suppressed over-all in these areas in order to encourage a more structured, uniform religious practice. While both aspects of Order championed paladins, Primordial Order also championed druids and rangers while Modern Order champions clerics.

Ancient theologians debated whether or not Order and Chaos were two aspects of the same being (ironically, there was no question that the In-Between was its own separate force). However, following the iconoclasm that effectively forced Chaos out of the pantheon and created the modern conception of Order, such lines of thought were considered heretical, and then blasphemous.

The iconoclasm did have an unintended consequence, however. Crying motifs appeared in some art of Primordial Order around that time, particularly in the areas that resisted the iconoclasts more intensely. Some scholars believe that it may have been a direct reaction to the event: Order mourning the loss of its counterpart. Others have argued, however, that the lack of such motifs (or equivalents) in depictions of the In-Between prove this wrong. After all, why would it not also be grieving?

[legends-expo]

Meet the Team: PR & DEI

Catherine has 13 years of experience in event planning, and is the communications and community relations manager for CultureSlate. She has a passion for creating equity, inclusion and positive engagement in community spaces.

Her favorite EU Characters are Exar Kun, Thrawn, and Darth Maul. Her favorite EU story is The Tenebrous Way, by Matthew Stover and Illustrated by Brian Rood for Star Wars Insider 130.

[thesilicontribesman]

The Ancient Routeway of Pen-y-Pass, Yr Wyddfa National Park, Wales

[jidblogger]

Check out this video essay my work made

[feral-radfem]

Some of y'all think gender roles are innate for some people and it shows. Especially my fellow lesbian sisters.

I'm not in the mood to get in an argument with y'all about this though. Just bothered me too much to be completely silent about it.

[obfontri]

i recently read a fic that explained kraglin’s absence during iw/endgame by saying he’d returned to xandar to help rebuild after thanos annihilated them and honestly….. that’s kinda cute

[a-queer-little-wombat]

Lovely craftsmanship and the outcome is gorgeous.

The number of sets made like this on an annual basis is likely quite small, tho. Which is just as true of similar items made in any other country.

And so, since I've been seeing a huge influx of these types of very staged, very traditional methods and items, very visually aesthetically pleasing and ASMR-generating, very minimal explanation captioning (and always in English), usually from user discoverchina, videos *all* from China and about traditional Chinese methods/items ... every time I see them, I think "this is propaganda".

Yes, they are beautiful and soothing and the items made are beautiful. But also, what is the goal? What do these videos encourage you to think about China? How much do these videos reflect modern China, their manufacturing, their culture, etc?

holy shit is this gorgeous.