also trying different things with text

INFJ stereotypes: calm, idealistic, kind, loyal

Me: *emotionally distant from most friendships*

Me: *ignores texts*

Me: *is realistic about something to the point where I have to be asked to stop being realistic about it*

Me: *is also a kind person that talks to people yet somehow doesn’t talk to anyone at the same time*

Me: *calmly handles things and freaks out at the same time*

Me: sounds fake??? But ok…

(I suppose this is just me being unique ^w^ *eye roll* but I got bored and I was trying to figure out how I was different from the stereotype lol)




@occasional-skrelp asked: “W-What’s a Poképuff? S-Something other kids like? C-Can I t-try it?”
Hana: “I’m glad you asked! Pokepuffs are cake like pastries topped with either 2 smoothed layers of frosting or 1 smooth and 1 fluffy layer! They are then topped with various toppings such as the white chocolate on this one! Each flavor of Pokepuff comes in multiple variants (the ones depicted are Fancy puffs) which increase in price as you go up the scale. There are also special puffs known as Supremes which are sold to high rank trainers! The Supremes have a different flavor list than normal puffs so if you need to now look at the text in this post! Hope this helps clear some things up for you! Oh and of course you can try one!

A quick note before I start translating

Okay, I’ve re-read the books and there are some names that haven’t appeared in the anime yet (or probably never will) so I’ll try my best to find decent pronunciations for them based on what I can infer from the text.

Also, there are of course minor differences between the novels and the anime (e.g. some names don’t appear until later chapters).

I’ll be translating DIRECTLY from the text and I’ll add annotations to anything that may need further explanation. I’ll also link a page to ALL annotations for each chapter translated to make things easier. ^^


Undyne and Papyrus are two very different kinds of heroes

I keep thinking about the themes of the game, and how the game shows “heroes”. How they represent the choices of you, the player, and also how half the monsters in the game are no more innocent or merciful or evil than you, yourself, have the capacity to be.


Keep reading

The Emperor’s Epistle:

Haiti and Race in Jeffersonian America

Guest Post by Professor James Alexander Dun

Finding weird things in the archives is wonderful and fun, but it also raises problems for historians trying to make sense of the past.  How does one know an aberration from something that is telling, if rare?  A text that is bizarre to us may be a fleeting window into what was typical in a different time.  Or it may have been bizarre then too, but in a different way than we can fathom.  The best way to try to cut through this thicket, of course, is to read and read and read, steeping yourself in the culture of the time as best you can in the hopes that your radar will become sensitive enough to pick up the echoes and murmurs of the moment and make sense of them in an honest and compelling way.

I had (at least) one of these moments in the early stages of my research for my first book, a study of the ways in which the Haitian Revolution was experienced and understood by contemporary Americans.  It happened after I picked up the Philadelphia literary magazine, the Port Folio, edited by Joseph Dennie between 1801 and his death in 1812.  Though events in Saint Domingue (and then Haiti) didn’t show up all that often, much of what I did find there made sense.  Dennie was an ardent Federalist; when the Port Folio began he was reeling in the wake of Republican Thomas Jefferson’s election and the subsequent decline of his party’s fortunes.  As time went on, Dennie developed an increasingly nasty and sardonic style of attack.  Building on the scurrilous writings of James T. Callender, he peppered his pages with tidbits having to do with the President’s escapades with “Black Sall,” a woman we know as Sally Hemings.  The point was to hold up what he expected people to see as sexual deviance as a way of illuminating Jefferson’s more general depravity and lack of principle.  It was a venomous running gag.

Courtesy: “An Heroic Epistle from JAQUES I, Emperor of Hayti, To NAPOLEON I, Emperor of the French.”, Port Folio / by Oliver Oldschool, Esq. March 2, 1805. 63-630. 3&site=ehost-live&ppid=divp7&lpid=divl11

And then, in March 1805, breaking into this recognizable, if distasteful, stuff, came what was to me an oddity.  Dennie even suggested it was as much, entitling it a “curious work,” though I didn’t believe he was really mystified by it in the slightest.  “It” was a “heroic epistle,” a poem purportedly found on a captured French frigate that had been written by Haitian leader Jean-Jacques Dessalines and addressed to Napoleon Bonaparte.  I didn’t believe that; Dennie’s title and tone suggested this was all a joke.  That, in fact, was what made me want to figure it out.  This was a joke I hoped I could parse apart—a moment when Dennie was speaking to his readers indirectly, winking at them as he made points using premises and a logic that he could assume they all shared.  Now that I’m on the other side of my project, I think, with a nod to Geertz, I’ve unraveled the wink.

Dennie’s/Dessalines’s epistle, though in the form of a poem, was in fact an agile satire, one that was designed to cut in two ways.  Dessalines was the lynchpin of both jokes.  The Haitian leader’s florid style was meant to expose his affectations, lampooning his blood-drenched accomplishments and blighted land as the equivalents of European heroics.  Readers were meant to balk at his self-described greatness, derived as it was from the recent “exterminating war” in Haiti, fueled by “negro vengeance” against “proud whites” and exemplified by scenes of tortured “infants wailing on the bloody spear.”  This sanguine history, however, was the foundation of the poem’s message; with Dessalines’s topsy-turvy empire as assumed knowledge, its real target—Bonaparte, himself recently installed as emperor of France—could be skewered.  “WE, JAQUES the first, send greeting to our brother,” the Haitian leader was made to proclaim, “For one great Emperor should greet another.”  This fraternity was both figurative and literal.  Both emperors were to be compared for their bloody paths to power, but Dessalines’s lines hinted that he and Bonaparte might also feasibly be related by blood.  “To Afric’s burning clime I owe my birth,” Dessalines reminded Bonaparte, just as Corsica, “thy natal spot” had sprung “from Afric’s torrid coasts.”  If this was a stretch, the poem’s “translator” wrote in a note, it showed that “the emperor Jaques … appears rather to wish to excite sympathy by similitude than by flattery.”  Corsica, a “little Afric,” was a corrupted seat of exiles and human refuse, a point that revealed the true nature of the rise of one of its sons as leader of France.  If the poetic Dessalines stretched credibility to make his point, to the reader his logic was meant to be infallible.  Haiti, after all, was also a corrupt and defiled place.  The actual blackness of the one emperor served to reveal the figurative blackness of the other.  Given Dennie’s purposes, the joke made perfect sense.

Of course, Jean-Jacques Dessalines was no joke, nor was this moment in American political culture lighthearted.  Blackness in leadership was serious business.  Among many white Americans, as Dennie’s writings about Jefferson exemplified, evoking it was the height of defamation.  Throwing Jefferson’s relationship with Hemings and his Francophilia in his face was a one-two punch, a combination whose force came from a singular critique of Republicans as corrupt and unprincipled—as men whose defilement of the American Revolution’s heritage was proven by their relationship to the events in Haiti.  The “epistle” didn’t make it into my book, but it does fit in with my eventual conclusions.  By 1805 this sort of sweeping, blunt, and racially charged use of events in Haiti had out-shouted the myriad of other interpretive possibilities Saint Domingue had provided Americans watching over the past sixteen years and more.  What was left was Dennie’s Haiti—a figure of savage black violence alone.  Ironically, this was a vision of the Haitian nation his Jeffersonian opponents could agree on.  

Professor James Alexander (Alec) Dun teaches history at Princeton University.  He is the author of Dangerous Neighbors: Making the Haitian Revolution in Early America (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2016).

Okay, here’s the thing. Sometimes you come across writers who rely heavily on literary elements in an attempt to add another layer to their work. Sometimes you can look at things like motifs and symbolism and get a deeper understanding of what the author is trying to convey, but sometimes, you can also miss the obvious while trying to analyze minute details. And here’s the kicker, unless the author explicitly tells you what is right or wrong, you have absolutely no idea what is and isn’t important. 

I recently had the opportunity to meet a successful published author. During the Q&A, she was asked repeatedly to explain certain motifs throughout her text - like her constant mention of cats - and if there was a reason as to why she often relied on similes. The author simply laughed and said “I guess I have a thing for cats.” There was no deeper meaning, despite the fact that most of her audience members were absolutely convinced that this was a relevant motif, and not an accident. 

When analyzing text and movies at the university level, the books and films we analyzed were often very artsy and out there, because those are generally the books and movies that rely heavily on literary/film elements. We then used some of these artsy films - like a version of Macbeth that took place in Feudal Japan and we analyzed things like the fact that Macbeth didn’t blink throughout the entire film - and compared them to popular grossing movies, like Iron Man that usually had a very cleat cut style with little to analyze. While artsy films like Romeo + Juliet relied on camera cuts, imagery and close-ups, films like Iron Man made a point to draw as little attention as possible to scene changes, because they wanted viewers to become immersed in the film, and because they were targeting a different type of audience. Blockbuster movies are usually pretty clear cut with their editing and aren’t very fancy. (and yes, I’m aware that Romeo + Juliet is a popular film, but it was extremely artsy and out there)

BMW, imo, was a very simple and straightforward show, and so is GMW. There are definite motifs, parallels and things to analyze, but imo, I feel like people take things too far. Minute details are meant to compliment the main plot, not contradict it and I feel like some people focus too much on details and forget the story that is being told. 

And there’s nothing wrong with analyzing things, but let’s not act like people are stupid for not seeing minute detail as glaringly obvious and relevant, because there’s always a strong chance that what people are seeing is an irrelevant fluke. 

also, if they try to force some sort of peace between ali and paige, i’m still dragging. there are characters that just don’t work and paige pretty much lost her chance at peace with alison when she refused it in season five. a character like mona, in my opinion, still has a chance at peace with alison because alison herself has said she would have done things differently if she could and all mona wanted was to fit in - plus, mona’s actually, y’know, helpful. but characters like jenna or paige, i just can’t see it happening, quite honestly.