Mar. 12th, 2017

Believe it or not it was FINE. Totally unweirded by its out-of-doors experience. 

GO FIGURE. I was sure it’d be gross, but it was not. 

We just spent a couple hours at the office taking in some plants that don’t really fit in the house anymore, and I watched a snowstorm roll in across the lake, which was very weird. 

Super nice desks, they’re really workbenches. This is Dude deciding to get all butch and embed power outlets into the cutouts in the legs designed to take them. I was suitably impressed. (I’ve done more electrical wiring than he has but he figured it out, good boy.)
via replied to your post “from the department of That Sounds Like Way Too Much Effort: so I ran…”

Maybe “Do Your Job!”

I definitely started to lay out text for a big elaborate script calligraphy that said “Do Your Fucking Job, Jason Chaffetz” but I decided that was too much. I also thought of Do Your Job but it’s like. Void howling at this point. 

I feel like there’s an aesthetic to this, where you pretend you’re not void howling. You pretend that you could actually get through to this person somehow. You pretend that if you just say it wittily and often enough, it will matter. 
ugh the cold has met its goal and settled in my lungs.

This morning dude asked if I’d slept all right. I groaned at him. I’d been up an hour, and had gone into the bathroom to cough and cough and cough and cough and try to make my lungs work again. 

“I could tell you got all snotted up,” he said. “You were snoring.”

“Oh,” I said, dismayed but not surprised, “sorry.”

“No,” he said, “it didn’t keep me up. It probably would have kept me up if you weren’t, because as long as you were snoring, I could tell you were breathing.”

the far left is way too comfortable with domestic violence decriminalizing, gay bashing Russia.

@bomberqueen17 replied to your post: so my cousin is having a baby, and i am once again…

I aspire to be a grandma without ever actually going through childrearing myself. I’ve told my dude that when we’re 60 I’m dumping him for some chump with adult kids just so i can be a grandma. i think i’m probably not going to but it’s amusing to tell people that’s my career plan.

all i want to do is bake and knit and spoil other people’s kids without having to actually take responsibility for them. and hey, i’d be the cool grandparent with tattoos and an undercut, that counts for something, right?

i almost said “all i need is some white hair” and i remembered i actually just purchased a white wig, not five hours ago, for reasons. grankiwi is happening.

I mean. I do okay with being an auntie. That’s pretty okay too. With bonus confusion points because my niece is well-known locally and I’m not, so strangers recognize her but not me and then are confused.
But it’s not the same as being a grandma. That’s a thing, man.
I can’t knit though.
This is what I get, I sewed like, one thing for like one minute yesterday and broke a thread on my serger, and now I rethreaded it and it’s not working properly. (I get four threads going in, and four threads coming out, which is a problem because I should have four threads go in and one chain come out. WHO KNOWS. It’s a mystery.)

My chest hurts and everything is green goo and I just want to make a thing and have it work. Also, I still haven’t found a suitable object to permanently beglitter, this is terrible.
via replied to your post “This is what I get, I sewed like, one thing for like one minute…”

my first thought was “glitter the serger”, which solves nothing but might be cathartic?

I thought of that, but rejected it because if the glitter melts down into the workings at any point I’ll be so hosed. And if I ever have to get it repaired I’m sure they’ll give me shit for it.

I do need to get the table machine it’s sitting on fixed. I have it set on a beautiful little sewing table that contains my old boss’s grandmother’s Singer 15J, mounted to the table, and he gave it to me but didn’t give me the power cord assembly. I need to get it reconditioned, and I figure, I’ll find a good repairman and see if he can order replacements for the missing parts, and then I’ll have a straight-stitch cast-iron machine again. 

But then I won’t have anywhere to put the serger when the sewing machine’s out. Baby steps, though, baby steps. 

… Meanwhile I’m considering contenting myself with gluing rhinestones to my already-beglittered journal, and moving on from there. 

Revolutionaries firing on Petrograd police headquarters.

March 12 1917, Petrograd–The demonstrations in Petrograd on International Women’s Day had grown over the following days.  The Czar, who was still at Stavka, decided that order needed to be restored by force, rather than any concessions, and on the 26th Petrograd was effectively under military occupation.  Despite this, people still converged on Nevsky Prospekt in the afternoon, and in multiple instances the poorly-trained troops fired on the crowds.  At Znamenskaya Square, over 50 people were killed.  While this dispersed some of the crowds, it emboldened others.  More importantly, it made the stakes incredibly clear to the soldiers in Petrograd; a restoration of order would require much more violence than had been seen on Sunday.

That night, soldiers in many of the regiments in the capital, most of whom were peasant recruits, debated what they should do the next day.  In the regiment that had been involved in the massacre at Znamenskaya recalled:

I told them that it would be better to die with honor than to obey any further orders to shoot at the crowds: “Our fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, and brides are begging for bread,” I said.  “Are we going to kill them?  Did you see the blood on the streets today?  I say we shouldn’t take up positions tomorrow.  I myself refuse to go.”  And, as one, the soldiers cried out: “We shall stay with you!”

In the wee hours of March 27, the soldiers of a different regiment, the Pavlovsky, voted to disobey any future orders to fire on civilians.  A revolt by one company the previous afternoon had been met with relative leniency, and the other men realized that imperial authority was crumbling.  They probably did not intend to start a general mutiny, but after a confrontation with their senior officers turned violent, they and several nearby regiments turned out into the streets and joined up with the workers.

Over the course of the day, half of the garrison of 160,000 men joined the mutiny, while most of the remainder remained in their barracks.  The soldiers and people fought against the police, seized government buildings, and opened prisons.  By nightfall, the mutineers were in control of all but a few buildings in the city.

The speed of the revolution took all observers by surprise, even self-proclaimed revolutionary politicians.  Scrambling to catch up to events, Mensheviks and Socialist Revolutionaries quickly formed a Petrograd Soviet in one of the wings of the Tauride Palace to organize the workers; they were soon joined by representatives of the other Socialist parties.  In the other wing of the palace, the Duma had been dissolved by the Czar the previous night, and remained paralyzed.  With the revolution in control of the streets, and the Soviet quickly setting themselves up as a possible authority, some members of the Duma formed a “Temporary Committee of Duma Members for the Restoration of Order in the Capital and the Establishment of Relations with Individuals and Institutions,” and then that evening proclaimed themselves to be the ultimate authority in Petrograd.

At Stavka, the Czar slowly learned the gravity of the situation in the capital.  All of his advisors, and even his wife, urged him to make immediate concessions, handing over most civilian authority to the Duma.  They thought this would prevent the spread of disorder, and would hopefully bring the soldiers back to the government’s side.  However, the Czar refused to give up his god-given authority, and believed the mutiny could still be crushed by force.  He brought General Ivanov out of effective retirement, and ordered him to proceed to Petrograd with reinforcements and restore order.

Today in 1916: Admiral Tirpitz Resigns

Today in 1915: German Counterattack at Neuve-Chapelle

Sources include: Jonathan Sanders, Russia 1917 [includes image credit]; Orlando Figes, A People’s Tragedy; Richard Pipes, The Russian Revolution.
I saw a post go by– and I think it was @anhamirak, fighting the good fight against aphobia in a blistering series of posts earlier– wherein someone was saying that they might as well ID as demisexual because they would never cheat on a partner. (The poster in question seemed to also hate asexuals because they believed asexuals thought of themselves as “purer” than allosexuals, which is something I’ve literally never actually encountered a real ace who did believe. !!?!?!)

And it made me really mad, because it served as a great example of a Discourse I’ve seen elsewhere: how many people don’t think demisexuality is real because they think it just means “virtuously monogamous”. 

Not the same thing! 

Just because it’s vanishingly rare for me to encounter a person I’m actually sexually compatible with doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen for me twice simultaneously, and absolutely doesn’t mean I couldn’t handle it badly. It’s taken me a long time to figure out I’m demi. Let me tell you, sexual appetite has nothing to do with it; I was an early and precocious discoverer of some particular types of self-love. In most of my relationships, there’s been a mismatched sex drive, and it’s me who’s the voracious one. I’ve even been involved in orgies and things, though my involvement was somewhat confused and limited; the confusion was mostly because I’m socially awkward, not because I’m demisexual. 

I’ve also had my head turned by an attractive friend and wanted to experiment; when my monogamous partner wasn’t interested, I didn’t pursue it further, but that was because I talked it out with him like a grown-up, not because I’m inherently good at not cheating. 

 I’m not “virtuously monogamous” as a sexual orientation. 

Monogamy isn’t inherently virtuous. Demisexuality isn’t inherently virtuous. Asexuality isn’t inherently virtuous. Demisexuality isn’t inherently monogamy. 

Monogamy is a choice. Virtue is a choice. 

Demisexuality, and in fact all types of asexuality, aren’t choices. One can choose how one expresses them– just as with any sexual orientation– but one can’t choose to be them. 

we will never realise just how much we own Tapping for putting down her feet after the pilot, risking her whole career and point blank telling the writers this is no way to write a woman. she is the one who truly created Sam Carter.and alone for that she deserves the honorific The Grand Empress of Sci Fi.

She put her foot down before the pilot. During initial costume testing, she pulled out the black tank top they’d given her, with the push-up bra, and without hesitation screwed her courage to the sticking place and said I’m sorry, I can’t play this role. I read for a soldier, I won’t play a bimbo. She was so upset to lose the role, she cried, but she stuck to her guns: I won’t wear a push-up bra to play a scientist. I’m sorry we’ve wasted our time but you’ll have to find another actress to do it. I can’t.

They backed down immediately and gave her a uniform t-shirt that matched the other soldiers. This was before filming even started. 

She’s the reason the character, and the series, was what it was.

(Also, it was her insistence that any other female characters would be Sam’s friends. Late in the run, when Vala was introduced, the writers never really gave them any footing for it, but Amanda and Claudia Black made a point to give the characters friendly nonverbal interactions– smiling, leaning against one another, holding the door for each other, lighting up upon seeing the other– whether the script called for it or not, and defined the characters’ relationship in a way the writers couldn’t gainsay.)

A good guide for picking out what stitch you want to use from pinterest.

Oh this is making me think of that anon who asked me about embroidery designing. I meant to come back and post a follow-up about this. Because at first I also felt like if I didn’t know which stitch to use I was Doing It Wrong, and after a while I realized that a lot of artists I liked a lot used basically one or two stitches for most things. I like to vary things, but if I’m just doing text, I often just use a backstitch because a continuous line is the most important consideration! Backstitch or split stitch. My stitches are nowhere near this nice or regular, though. 

To find out how to do these, I think Sarah’s Hand Embroidery Tutorials are the clearest– or at least, the most comprehensive. I also own a print copy of The Embroidery Stitch Bible because someone gave it to me. 

But it turns out there’s no minimum number of different stitches you have to do, and you can pick whatever you like.
via replied to your post “I’m forever rattling around between WIPs and that’s fine, I like that,…”

I would read that Deleted Extra scene in a heartbeat.

I want to read it more than I want to write it, to be honest. But I really want to read it, so… 

I’m also stalled on the Bodhi/Cassian sex scene in the same ‘verse, which I got as far as the long-planned humorous note where Kaytoo, in this ‘verse a large and sarcastic German Shepherd, hears Cassian make a noise he interprets as distress and decided he has to Investigate. But I’m stuck there too because, again, I want to read it not write it.

However, rescuing me is the fact that Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers just put out a new live album, and since they inspired me a ton during the early chapters of Home Out In The Wind, I’m finally managing to get the bridge scene of that epilogue written. Which was, like, last on my to-do list, but hey. It was on there, at least. 

But maybe if i contemplate some more Donnie Yen ab gifsets… 
@deputychairman am working further on Home Out In The Wind’s epilogue and part of it is that Poe is going to finally shave the Depression Beard he’s been rocking through the back half of the saga 

and I just seriously contemplated having him keep a moustache just to annoy his father. I felt like you should know this, whether I keep it in or not. (I know fic is not a visual medium but maybe I could justify finding the Most Attractive Photo of Oscar Isaac’s moustache just to stare at for a while. I’m not convinced about it but I love your tag art about it.)

(I maintain that it is at least a venial sin, if not a mortal one, to wear a beard when God has given you a jawline like that.)

Got my Roy G. Biv going for Ocala’s Pride skate. 🌈🌈🌈 #gpoy

#1 BOMB LOOK man you’re pretty
#2 one of my most cherished skating-in-a-parade memories is how I was in a Pride Parade circa 2007 (holy shit that’s not… recent… give me a minute…) and there was some dude there with a megaphone screaming about how marriage was between a man and a– and I flashed him my bra, and he stuttered, and on the megaphone said, “and a man,” and we were all like YEAHHHHH
anyway, cherished memory of a decade ago WTF
sorry for like mega-posting but it’s sunday night and nobody’s around anyway

i just have to come back to say that this new Peacemakers live album (Live at the Belly Up, link is to Google Play but it’s on iTunes etc too) has a version of Green and Dumb on it that will blow your fucking socks off holy shit.

That song is fifteen years old and it’s like– I mean, there’s nothing wrong with the original recording, and this is a really faithful rendition of the original, but holy shit it’s so good. 6:13 of chills good, man. 

Also there’s a great version of Switchblade back-to-back with a great version of Mekong. No Ashes of San Miguel, though, alas; that one’s not really in the regular rotation I think. 

The finale is Nada, but I haven’t heard it yet, so. I have high hopes.

If you’re not a fan of the band I’m not surprised, but. Oh, good, they’re doing Banditos and the King of the Hill theme, there you go. (In the intro, Clyne said, “Well, you weren’t born yet, and you weren’t born, it was twenty years ago, but–” and then they launched into the song.) If you’ve heard of them it’d be for that song. They were called The Refreshments then and were slightly less… cowboy. 

I’ve only seen them live once. I took some great photos. I don’t know where they are on this computer. 

… Oh, yeah, Nada’s good. You can tell he did it last, clearly as the encore, so that when he wrecked his voice doing it he wouldn’t have to keep singing afterward. Holy shit.



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