24apr2026

Today's art is pretty enough, but the linkies, alas, fall in the fridayfugly territory. (One of the things I admit to really appreciating while at Baja surf camp last year was that we were in the middle of nowhere in the Mexican desert—admittedly on coast of said desert—was absolutely no connection to the outside world. This is why I find myself, more and more, understanding my mom's, if not decision precisely, but trending habit, of ignoring the larger political realities, as she got older: she wanted to die, if not happy—cancer is not a fun way to go, and she was luckier than most—at least content.

I'm not at all happy about being one of those complicit Deutsch folx during WWII US citizens during the current heinous regime, but I don't know what much I can do about it except hope enough of the country holds together until the November mid-terms. I will say that even the die-hard Trump supporter has taken down his sign, a somewhat encouraging, er, sign.)

I'm hardly the only one who feels this despair: Randy Rainbow is known for his politically inspired song parodies, which while sharply critical of our appalling political landscape, still are darkly funny. Not this time. It is just...sad. I wasn't the only one to notice, other commenters said the same.

Lithub's excerpt of Ibram X Kendi's new book, Chain of Ideas: The Origins of Our Authoritarian Age has definitely moved it to my to-read pile; here's this German immigrant descedent's (from the 1800s, with the excuse of desiring not to be war fodder) money quote:

To be racist is to see peoples of color as eternal immigrants. In 2019, President Trump told four congresswomen of color—three of whom were born in the United States—to “go back” to the “corrupt” and “crime-infested” countries they “originally came from.” Trump’s own paternal grandfather, Friedrich, originally came from Germany in 1885. He traveled back home in 1901 and met his wife, Elisabeth. They moved to the United States together in 1902 and returned to Germany in 1904. They came back to the U.S. for good in 1905—Elisabeth pregnant with Trump’s father, Fred. Trump’s mother, Mary Anne, immigrated from Scotland in 1930. Trump, a son of immigrants. To be racist is to see White people as eternal natives.

Your brain on money, via Slacktivist, is one of the several articles I've seen on the growing online gambling problem. Also via Slacktivist, here's another, proving out the first one's assertion that it generally takes a country about 7 years to realize what a terrible idea legalizing online betting is. Especially chilling is the cite about a writer who thoroughly researched the topic before ever placing a bet—and still getting sucked in; as with so many ills, people are lured in by the late-stage capitalism frustrations burdening them: flat or falling wages, shrinking horizons. I think this same article noted the average age for people buying their first home has crept up to 40.

Yet as Hanna Horvath notes, by far the most corrosive aspect is the gambler's reduction of their sportsball players into elements to be cursed, instead of the social bonding activity sports—especially professional sports that people do not play themselves—is sold as; instead their loss of affect becomes so severe they become emotionally (& otherwise) detached from all aspects of their everyday lives, leaving behind spouses and children even while physically present.

But at least you could argue that the gambling addicts, however damaging to others, are victims; not so with the Gisele Pelicot's abuser. Here, the hero is unambiguously Pelicot herself, who demanded her identity during her rapist-husband's trial be public, as she, after all, had nothing to hide.

I don't know why people were surprized or shocked Deepak Chopra associated with Jeffrey Epstein; anybody who says his gonads are thermonuclear balls (or some such—it's been 20 years, and I can't find the quote) when battling a beleaguered opponent in court over copyrighting yoga poses, which yanno, have been around for thousands of years, is clearly an asshole, if the huge profits he's made off his franchises weren't indicator enough—but me being an open source advocate, and believer in yoga for everyone (also the aim of BKS Iyengar who perhaps did more than anyone else to popularize asana practise in the West) I was immediately repelled by his greed and arrogance; but I was rather saddened to see that the founder of my favourite style, ashtanga (an aerobic fusion of Eastern yoga and western gymnastics, distinguished by its continuous and vigourous flowing movements) K. Pattabhi Jois, was also creditably accused of “sexual misconduct” of women.

Le sigh.

(That said, there is so much good, free info on yoga now—Yoga with Adriene cracked that dam, and now there's also Yoga with Kassandra, Charlie Follows, and EmmaForeverYoga, all of whom I've tried, all of whom at least intersect with the Power (i.e. ashtanga) Yoga, and can recommend. (Adriene is also excellent, especially for beginners, but I would say she hews more to the Iyengar style, which focuses on using props for careful alignment, as opposed to the flowing sequences. You'll still get a workout, though! and the others also have beginner or relaxing sequences;)

And on that slightly higher note, here's a unicorn-pretty chaser.

21apr2026

Ah, the linkies are once again piling up, so I'm posting this older piece so I have an excuse to tidy up my tabs...

• via Pharyngula, a close read of Sapiens It's pretty entertaining so far.
• via Pro-Science, Shizuoka is literally a model city. It took me a moment to understand this adorable visual pun, I'm slow. And in fact, I'm not certain but what I actually may have visited this city, the name seems awfully familiar. (Needless to say I did not pick up on the element cited here, I'm sure I would've noticed. Right? Right! Oh well...)
• In other heartening news the almost-extinct flightless kakapo parrots are slowly recovering. Yay, another reason to visit New Zealand—not because I actually expect to see these rare animals, but to support a place that enables their survival.

Aaaaand, a bit of nostalgia mixed media finally photo'ed so it could go off to its forever home.

7apr2026

I have been, as one of my younger siblings would say, naaaaaaaauuuughhh-tye.

First I angsted and procrastinated over buying a new camera to the point that B&H was closed for Passover, (& so was Adorama), so I (gulp) purchased it thru the evil Amazon. Because the 13th ship date was gonna be toooooo laaaaaate. Then I was shamed by Philosophy Tube into finally signing up for Nebula, not least because Lindsay Ellis had a half off deal.

HBomb and Philosophy Tube have their entire catalog, so far as I can tell, on youtube, but Lindsay Ellis mostly does not. So I've been plowing through her essays, and (for the most part) enjoying them hugely, but I wanted to push back, a touch, on an entertaining, and possibly accurate, but in my opinion altogether justified assertion that Shrek is

...a mean little movie.

I don't actually dispute that Shrek is “mean” to the Disney corp.

Where I think we disagree is whether Disney deserved it. Ellis’ argument, if I'm following it correctly, is that the snark embodied in Shrek —especially the early scene in which Shrek and Donkey are confronted by the automaton-choir's sing-song goody-goody instructions for ass-kissing behavior required in Dulac, before having the gate slammed in their faces, was (unnecessarily) cruel, and that Shrek's parodying of Disney (as when the Princess Fiona's singing causes the little bluebird to explode as it attempts to match her high note, clearly riffing off the classic Snow White Cinderella singing with cute animals) undermined Disney's confidence to the point that they started lampshading their earlier films, chickened out on proper Disney villains, etc.

Whereas I, pissed off by their hair-trigger legal defense of their IP—which, a) mostly comes from us (fairy tales, c'mon; or stuff written a century ago, really?) and b) is ultimately valuable only because we make it so, felt savagely vindicated.

Honestly, I liked the lampshading in Frozen (in which Hans takes Anna to task for falling in love with her handsome prince in one day), and while I agree it might've been nice to to make not every. single. villain. since. a twist villain—I think Zootopia II (major spoiler incoming! —skip to the next para if you like—would've actually been a stronger and more interesting film if Lynxley had been (even) more conflicted about his family loyalties, and had ultimately gone over to the good side—yeah, I know, not likely in a rich person, but certainly possible, and yeah, that might've made it too much his story, instead of Judi Hopps and Nick Wilde's struggle to make their partnership actually work past that first heady success.

But hey, aren't kid movies supposed to model what could be? It's not like the rest of the film isn't wildly aspirational.

So, okay, Ellis simply isn't as concerned by the fates of all the little creators that have been stomped on by the Mouse. (And that's okay, we can't all be all things! But it does, I think, explain our differing opinions.) That said, Disney parks are sanitized, even Ellis admits that. They are not friendly to the fringes—you won't find graffiti, ever, at any Disney theme park. Nor any other out-of-bounds behavior, because they spy on every square foot. (Well, excepting their own, illegal behaviour, such as the nightly fireworks: it's against the local noise ordinance, so they simply pay the fine. Every night. That's according to Lindsay, whom I presume knows what she's talking about. My immediate reaction was that the town of Anaheim needs to raise the cost of the fines, stat. But they also utterly depend upon dizzy economically so...devil's bargain. That should not, excepting in late-stage capitalism, ever have to be made.) The creeping surveillance that dominates Great Britain, and is slowly taking over in the US has been a feature there, for years.

I think the biggest difference is that Ellis is fascinated—invested—embedded—in pop culture in a way that I'm not. She likes amusement parks, whereas I find them a crashing, inauthentic bore. She likes transformer movies, whereas I think they're manbaby pap. And so on. Mind you, I have my own trashy delights (which among other things, include dizzy animation) so I get it; but it's always easier to excuse the excreta of your own sacred cows than others’.

And really, Dizzy is a huge, multi-billion dollar corp. They can take a little ribbing. Although, like Ellis, I surely wish they'd quit with the live-action remakes and make more good stuff—as her commenters noted, they know what they need to do, lean into the multicultural, as they did in Red, Luca or Encanto.

Either that, or—as Ellis asserts (& I agree)—fade into irrelevance.

Oh, and here's some art that actually does tie in to today's rant. Can you spot how?

25mar2026

Well, hello, Happy Spring:) Resolutely ignoring the news, sorry, it will provoke my anxiety to levels requiring medication if I'm not careful. That said, my profound sympathy to everyone undergoing the assorted levels of hell our dreadful gov't is imposing on the world in their quest to a) make even more money and b) try to get us to forget the Epstein files exist.

Adjacent to my researches for today's art (& its way-too-long accompanying text) I've stumbled across some interesting linkies, so here are a few from tabs still open:

• Medieval Knitting Guild tests were challenging. Appallingly so. Spoiler: pay money, get in more easily.
• Shetland shawls could cost more than gold per ounce. What fascinated me was that these practitioners also spun the wool to make these gossamer garments; lace, before machines came in, was also made with hand-spun fibers thinner than can be produced by machine today. It too was fantastically time consuming and therefore, expensive. (Also, 1960s accents are fascinatingly different than now, which, since I lived through the 60s, kinda blows my mind;)
• Bronze Age (i.e. Ancient) clothing is basically rectangles, held on with pins. No surprise there!
• What did surprise me was how large these garments were (though, thinking about kilts, another rectangular garment that also served as a blanket, it shouldn't’ve) and especially, how colourful.

Turns out a wide range of vegetable dyes is documented to before the Common era, but I haven't watched that video yet:) I guess I've been too influenced by all these dull-brownish historical films & their earth toned costuming; before I looked it up, I would not have guessed that all that colour likely(1) pre-dated knitting, which—at least in Europe—seems to have been roughly contemporaneous with lace-making; bobbin lace, at least, requires lots (and lots) of fine steel pins, so I expect that was driven by the availability of good steel. Super fine knitting neeles, ditto, and yes, they knit stockings and the like to a very fine gauge, and at a speed that is really only available to someone who was bred to that task, from childhood. Which, nowadays, we're not, because we have machines to do all that.

Thank goodness. As much as I'm sad not to see handicraft practised at Olympian levels, I'm not sorry people are spared such repetitive—and for them, not at all ‘fun’—tasks.

(I once watched a video of czech production beadmakers, who IIRC made about 800 pieces a day? I was a “production” beadmaker, and never made more than 200 pieces a day, and certainly not every day; my hands never would've tolerated that kind of use. Of course we moderns specialize too—think about the narrowness of academic research—but craft is now mostly pursued as a form of art, so the focus is on discovery, as opposed to churning stuff out.)

Anyway. To celebrate messing about, here's an illustration of a Pern fanwork in which I play with a variety of media. It was fun to do, at least!

---

The origins of knitting are lost in the mists of time; though if you include its earlier single-needle cousin, naalbinding, then it fer shure goes back thousands of years.

23feb2026

I should be doing tax prep, which I hoped would simpler this year, but alas, the fates, or at least the US tax code, keeps finding ways to make my life complicated. Clearly, I have not yet mastered advanced intermediate adulting. (Advanced is health care or insurance companies, or worst of all, intersection of the two, ugggggghhhhhh)

Anyway: I have a couple of fun linkies, to go with the pretty snow that's currently falling—me trying to find joy where I can...

Via the ever growing slacktivist thread (Fred's computer evidently broke a week or two ago):

• a very cute blog post that goes back in hundred year increments to show how English has changed—pretty cool, and that long-ago Chaucer class got me back to (more or less) 1200, but 1100, let alone 1000 (well into Old English) was beyond me. Can we bring back the thorn, and those other cool runicly inspired glyphs?
• also very cool, sustainable mardi gras beads which not only are to address the 2.5 million pounds of plastic bead trash, but are cool looking.

As a glass bead maker, I'd love to see glass bead mardi-gras beads come back, but let's be real here, they'd likely be Chinese, as opposed to manufactured locally, so that old custom has likely sailed, so this seems like a nice update.

Also...it might not seem especially upbeat, but I was actually found hope in this 80minute podcast/vlog between three folks—2 POCs and a gay guy—discussing The Incel to ICE Pipeline. I suppose it's sort of a follow-up to what masculinity can look like that I was discussing in the prior intro.

And here's a little celebratory giftwrap.

19feb2026

So I was scrolling through the usual collection of of Midwest Cleaning, Antibot, Rebecca Watson, Girl with the Dogs type of youtube videos that sort of serve as timers when I'm attempting the never ending tasks of journalling and/or tidying up my office (usually from the mess the journalling generates...) and I finally decided to click this fella's reaction to some song or other after seeing it multiple times in my suggestions.

Wow. So I tracked down the original (animated) version of Lydia the Bard's Feed Us Your Girls (there's a more recent and prettier live action version, but in my opinion, the original, harsher animated one is more effective.

Then went back to Blackspeed's channel and watched the dolls mannequins vid which sparked the recces for the Lydia the Bard piece, Morgan St. Jean's not all men and, then, because it looked interesting, the reaction to Ren's single-take with (to me) fascinating set design featuring flickering lights, Hi Ren in which he (Ren, not Blackspeed) explicates the impact too-long-untreated lyme disease has on his mental and physical health (and people wonder why I'm wild to get the vaccine...!) Then read comments on the Lydia Bard reaction, which picked up on some stuff I missed (frex, it has three verses, each detailing the experience of a different person, not to mention the denouement at the end, which I think is really only, or at least only explicit? in the animation, another reason I really like that version.)

So, I guess that was my intro to musically inspired ‘reaction’ videos, as opposed to the AMSR-y housecleaning/pet-grooming or the politically tinged science vlog essays and their related material (i.e., religious criticism). I enjoyed them, but on the whole like this sort of thing better when related to the culture at large, which is what makes Antibot's reactions to assorted christian tiktoks interesting.

I've told people for years that I loathe horror, but that's obviously not true; I just interact with it a little differently. I liked Feed Us Your Girls because, though I'm relatively peaceable (age will do that to you), that song embodies the rage that runs like a white vein in black rock though me as a AFAB person: for me once upon a time as a young person, for young women in my life still subject to this garbage, for the grands who likely will: nieces and daughters and other children not even born yet. They should not have to go through this! And...mebbe they won't, quite as much.

This is why I listen to songs like that, read novella length essays detailing the repugnant behaviour of real-life rapists (valorized in my communities, so all the more painful than the garden-variety obscenely wealthy types dominating the news).

People consume fictive horror as a way to process, so they say. I, personally, find hope in the tiny cracks—the girls who get their revenge on one wolf, even as endless others surround them, the man secure enough to weep at their pain, the sf&f community's exposure of its monstrous, once-celebrated authors. On seeing decent people, men and women both, push back on this crap.

I have a friend who asked me, what is a man? I replied, someone who identifies that way. He didn't like my answer, but the decent men who push back on monstrous behaviour, who are brave enough to cry, willing to admit they're ill, even who just repeatedly take the time and trouble to explain to their viewers that hoarders are mentally ill, not lazy slobs —those folks are all admirably demonstrating how to be good men.

Cinder, however, is a cat.