power of words

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Powerful words from Neil, on the denial of science in America.

slacktivities  asked:

have you gone through many dungeons yet in skyrim? which type is most interesting? [nord, dwemer, etc]

nord dungeons SUCK because whenever i go there they all look the same and my follower, marcurio, only has snarky things to say about it, plus al lthe draugr are JERKS and i hate dealing with them and they should stay dead

i like just random caves over ruins, i remember the very first cave i EVER explored had a power word on the wall and because i walked into the cave before doing any of the main story i thought i was dying or i got poisoned or it was fight music and i was really scared because my screen was flashing and i thought i might be having a hallucination at one point and i walked up to the wall and it was like WORD OF POWER GAINED and i had NO idea what was going on i almost cried :(

Teen French expressions

For if you want to make hip young friends.

Disclaimer: French people complain a lot. A lot. Don’t be surprised if 90% of these expressions are complaining.

  • Non mais oh - say this if someone does something mildly annoying and you want to express your shock and distaste.
  • Tu me fais chier - (alt. tu me fais chier, là.) literally ‘you make me shit’. means you’re pissing me off.
  • Carrément - translates to ‘squarely’. Means ‘literally’. If someone tells you something surprising or annoying, you can answer simply “ah carrément.” see: tu me fais carrément chier.
  • J’hallucine / je rêve - are you annoyed by something? say these.
  • C’est pas possible - a classic. anything bad happens - c’est pas possible. There is no cheese left? It’s not possible. I’m hallucinating. This is a burden on me that solely I can bear I cannot believe this is happening.
  • Ça commence à me gaver - I’m starting to get real sick of this. see: Ça commence carrément a me gaver , putain.
  • T’es relou - verlan slang for ‘lourd’ meaning someone’s heavy, personality-wise. They’re tedious.
  • Ça me saoûle / ça me gonfle - similar to gaver, means something’s pissing you off, you’re sick of it.
  • Grave - totally.
  • C’est clair - totally/that’s clear. Like ‘claro’ in spanish. “Justine elle est trop relou” “C’est clair. Elle me fait chier.”
  • J’en ai marre - I’m sick of this.
  • J’en ai ras le bol - I’m sick of this.
  • J’en ai ras le cul - I’m sick of this (vulgar).
  • (J’en ai) Rien à battre - I don’t give a damn.
  • (J’en ai) Rien à foutre - I don’t give a fuck.
  • C’est bon, là. -  That’s enough.
  • Perso, euh, - “Personally,” generally used at the start of a complaining sentence, to express how personal the matter is to you. Perso, euh, c’est bon là. J’en ai ras le cul.
  • Rôh là - general expression of distaste. Le longer the rôh, the more annoyed you are. Rôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôh, c’est quoi ce bordel.
  • C’est quoi ce bordel ? - translates to “what’s this brothel”, means “what’s this shit?!”
  • C’est de la merde - It’s shit.
  • C’est une blague ? - Is this a joke?
  • Idem - ditto
  • J’ai la dal - I’m hungry
  • Ça caille - It’s freezing
  • Ouf - two meanings 1. phew or 2. verlan for “fou”, meaning crazy (as a noun or adjective). “Kévin, c’est un ouf! Il fait du vélo sans casque!” “Ouais carrément, c’était un truc de ouf!”
  • Kévin - there’s a running joke that all the young delinquents seem to be called Kévin.
  • Crever - slang for “to die”. Va crever, connard!
  • Connard/Connasse - c*nt, but a lot less vulgar in french peoples eyes

And finally,

T’es con. No English translation can express the power behind the words “t’es con”. While it may sort of translate to “you’re a c*nt/idiot”, it expresses something much deeper. You really are a god damn fool.

When I was nine, possibly ten, an author came to our school to talk about writing. His name was Hugh Scott, and I doubt he’s known outside of Scotland. And even then I haven’t seen him on many shelves in recent years in Scotland either. But he wrote wonderfully creepy children’s stories, where the supernatural was scary, but it was the mundane that was truly terrifying. At least to little ten year old me. It was Scooby Doo meets Paranormal Activity with a bonny braw Scottish-ness to it that I’d never experienced before.

I remember him as a gangling man with a wiry beard that made him look older than he probably was, and he carried a leather bag filled with paper. He had a pen too that was shaped like a carrot, and he used it to scribble down notes between answering our (frankly disinterested) questions. We had no idea who he was you see, no one had made an effort to introduce us to his books. We were simply told one morning, ‘class 1b, there is an author here to talk to you about writing’, and this you see was our introduction to creative writing. We’d surpassed finger painting and macaroni collages. It was time to attempt Words That Were Untrue.

You could tell from the look on Mrs M’s face she thought it was a waste of time. I remember her sitting off to one side marking papers while this tall man sat down on our ridiculously short chairs, and tried to talk to us about what it meant to tell a story. She wasn’t big on telling stories, Mrs M. She was also one of the teachers who used to take my books away from me because they were “too complicated” for me, despite the fact that I was reading them with both interest and ease. When dad found out he hit the roof. It’s the one and only time he ever showed up to the school when it wasn’t parents night or the school play. After that she just left me alone, but she made it clear to my parents that she resented the fact that a ten year old used words like ‘ubiquitous’ in their essays. Presumably because she had to look it up.

Anyway, Mr Scott, was doing his best to talk to us while Mrs M made scoffing noises from her corner every so often, and you could just tell he was deflating faster than a bouncy castle at a knife sharpening party, so when he asked if any of us had any further questions and no one put their hand up I felt awful. I knew this was not only insulting but also humiliating, even if we were only little children. So I did the only thing I could think of, put my hand up and said “Why do you write?”

I’d always read about characters blinking owlishly, but I’d never actually seen it before. But that’s what he did, peering down at me from behind his wire rim spectacles and dragging tired fingers through his curly beard. I don’t think he expected anyone to ask why he wrote stories. What he wrote about, and where he got his ideas from maybe, and certainly why he wrote about ghosts and other creepy things, but probably not why do you write. And I think he thought perhaps he could have got away with “because it’s fun, and learning is fun, right kids?!”, but part of me will always remember the way the world shifted ever so slightly as it does when something important is about to happen, and this tall streak of a man looked down at me, narrowed his eyes in an assessing manner and said, “Because people told me not to, and words are important.”

I nodded, very seriously in the way children do, and knew this to be a truth. In my limited experience at that point, I knew certain people (with a sidelong glance to Mrs M who was in turn looking at me as though she’d just known it’d be me that type of question) didn’t like fiction. At least certain types of fiction. I knew for instance that Mrs M liked to read Pride and Prejudice on her lunch break but only because it was sensible fiction, about people that could conceivably be real. The idea that one could not relate to a character simply because they had pointy ears or a jet pack had never occurred to me, and the fact that it’s now twenty years later and people are still arguing about the validity of genre fiction is beyond me, but right there in that little moment, I knew something important had just transpired, with my teacher glaring at me, and this man who told stories to live beginning to smile. After that the audience turned into a two person conversation, with gradually more and more of my classmates joining in because suddenly it was fun. Mrs M was pissed and this bedraggled looking man who might have been Santa after some serious dieting, was starting to enjoy himself. As it turned out we had all of his books in our tiny corner library, and in the words of my friend Andrew “hey there’s a giant spider fighting a ghost on this cover! neat!” and the presentation devolved into chaos as we all began reading different books at once and asking questions about each one. “Does she live?”— “What about the talking trees” —“is the ghost evil?” —“can I go to the bathroom, Miss?” —“Wow neat, more spiders!”

After that we were supposed to sit down, quietly (glare glare) and write a short story to show what we had learned from listening to Mr Scott. I wont pretend I wrote anything remotely good, I was ten and all I could come up with was a story about a magic carrot that made you see words in the dark, but Mr Scott seemed to like it. In fact he seemed to like all of them, probably because they were done with such vibrant enthusiasm in defiance of the people who didn’t want us to.

The following year, when I’d moved into Mrs H’s class—the kind of woman that didn’t take away books from children who loved to read and let them write nonsense in the back of their journals provided they got all their work done—a letter arrived to the school, carefully wedged between several copies of a book which was unheard of at the time, by a new author known as J.K. Rowling. Mrs H remarked that it was strange that an author would send copies of books that weren’t even his to a school, but I knew why he’d done it. I knew before Mrs H even read the letter.

Because words are important. Words are magical. They’re powerful. And that power ought to be shared. There’s no petty rivalry between story tellers, although there’s plenty who try to insinuate it. There’s plenty who try to say some words are more valuable than others, that somehow their meaning is more important because of when it was written and by whom. Those are the same people who laud Shakespeare from the heavens but refuse to acknowledge that the quote “Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them“ is a dick joke.

And although Mr Scott seems to have faded from public literary consumption, I still think about him. I think about his stories, I think about how he recommended another author and sent copies of her books because he knew our school was a puritan shithole that fought against the Wrong Type of Wordes and would never buy them into the library otherwise. But mostly I think about how he looked at a ten year old like an equal and told her words and important, and people will try to keep you from writing them—so write them anyway.

I really appreciate that even though Kara was in a terrible situation, she still answered the phone when Lena called the first time. She could have just as easily let the call go to voicemail (she had every right to do so) but instead she picked up the phone and told Lena that it wasn’t a good time and that she would call her back. Kara’s going through so much in this scene and she feels awful but she still answers the phone instead of ignoring Lena because she’s an extremely caring person and she doesn’t want Lena to feel brushed off. It was a subtle but important way of showing how well Kara knows Lena and I just thought it was a good moment.

Loving you was one of the bravest commitment I’ve made for myself. It was petrifying to see ghosts from my past steadily burning down the walls I’ve made. Every step they took was alarming, it reminds of why I became like them - a heartless monster. And then you came. You reminded me of a girl I knew once. The girl with an untouched heart; pure and trusting. You’ve reminded me of who I really am. You’ve reminded me what is important and why life was worth living again. I thank you for gathering the pieces they took from me, for embracing my flaws, and for looking deep into my eyes without feeling the fear that I might break you too. I love you and that’s what saved me in the end.
—  (d.g)
☿ mercury ☿

Aries mercury ~ the mind of mars learns through visualization; it is through action and motion that the senses are stimulated. mental explosions; ideas are immediately verbalized and the head is afflicted with pains from sensitivity and reactivity to the immediate environment; in extremity, this is war ravaging through the mental faculties. communicative abilities are direct, genuine, inventive, passionate, witty and immediate reactions are set-off in the light of the ego. a pioneering mind venturing onward inspirationally, pointing towards new beginnings

Taurus mercury ~ tree roots wrapped around the brain sprouting into blossoms; shows a grounded, firm, unchangeable, traditional, but obstinate mind like that of roots but also an artistic, poetic, youthful and musical kind of old soul like that of the angelic Venusian blossoms, that learns best through the worldly senses of taste, sight, touch, smell, and hearing, savoring life experiences with underlying nostalgia. 

Gemini mercury (☿) ~ thoughts and words come and go breathlessly and as fleetingly as rapid heartbeats, matching the swift fluttering of butterfly wings and the quick godly travel of hermes. the mind is keen, curious, clever, intellectual, versatile and overly alert causing restlessness and inconsistency. The speech and approach to others is friendly, animated, humorous and lively, and the transmission of messages from this position reflects a mind driven by logic rather than intuition as well as an urgency for connectivity and an endless quest for learning. childlike wisdom rests here, where there is always a critical questioning of “why” and a constant activation of creative cerebral surges.

Cancer mercury ~ the mind is receptive, nocturnal, emotional, reflective, and is working through an instinctually subconscious level that reacts with immediate feelings. Reality is distorted in magical moonlight, casting nostalgia, moodiness, and nighttime paranoia but gifts the mind with imagination, mother’s comforting soul words and a psychic sense. the lunar mind learns well through absorbing and listening to others. the memories are coated with wistful and bittersweet emotions that come alive with every instant experience.

Leo mercury ~ the heart is intertwined with the brain, making the words true, lively, loving and passionate. solar flares endow the speech with golden words and the mind with creativity and a vivid perception of reality. The sun seldom has a shadow, yet it certainly does cast one; although this position is prone to being domineering, willful, and self-concerned, the solar spirit is proud, dignified, free-spirited, warm, idealistic and glistening with theatrical displays of creative radiance. 

Virgo mercury (☿) ~ the cerebral nerves become focused in this earthy domain, yet there is an nervousness over detail; the eyes are equivalent to magnifying glasses that see what another doesn’t. The trickster nature of mercurial hermes burdens this position with repetitiveness, nitpick, fret and hypersensitivity yet blesses the mind with a thought trend that is cleverly witty, practical, alert, investigative, intellectual, systematic and analytical. The maiden’s voice is kissed with medicinal messages, where healing powers drip  from their words and into another’s broken soul lining. The communication is swift and sharp yet shy and timid at first and the native learns well in any given environment if the concentration isn’t imposed with anxiety tugging at the nerves.

Libra mercury- the grasping of reality mimics the justice of the scales; there is an ability to detach oneself from emotional undertones, an internal urge to defend the weak-willed, and an ability to calculate the world through several perspectives. The judgment is clear, diplomatic, impartial and the mind is buzzing with dreamy idealism, aesthetic sense, and able to synthesize oppositions and disputes to middle ground if vacillation is overcome. Makes for a charming and witty chatterer, spilling Venusian sweet song for others to hear.

Scorpio mercury ~ the mind is powerful, sharp, and perceptive of all things unknown working as the master psychologist of the soul. thought course is intensely secretive, willful, intrigued, suspicious, fiercely acute, obsessive, over critical and possesses an intelligent sixth sense. holds unyielding convictions and uses interrogations and investigation to pierce through boundaries and delve into the matters of the psychological, metaphysical, occult and esoteric research. 

Sagittarius mercury ~ the spirit has direct contact to the Superconscious through cosmic wisdom, treading through the waters of the universe on a dreamy pilgrimage, the mind filled with shooting stars. The currents of thinking and communication are expansive, moral, skeptical, insightful, inspiring and knowledgeable. The mind is often directionless, impatient and disconnected from the world but sincere, honest and filled with infinite understanding.

Capricorn mercury ~ the messages of hermes are filtered through the child of time where one is reticent in sharing ancient knowledge held firmly in the mind. Saturn weighs heavy upon the perception causing one inclined to intolerance, criticism of the self and others, and sullen sternness as well as an unwilling awareness of one’s own mortality, anxieties and fears. and yet through Saturn the fashion of thought becomes methodical, efficient, logical, disciplined, dignified, concentrative and ultimately crystallized, where the seagoat’s unrest becomes definite and clear from reaching the mountain tops, in due course spawning entry into the sky and beyond.

Aquarius mercury ~ the mind proves to be on a futuristic wavelength where one thinks outside the box, through the box, behind the box, between the box and so forth. There is a inclination to progressive societal matters, making the character good-natured, equal and universal. Uranian electrical currents presents the mind with surges of innovative concepts, intelligent comprehension, brilliant analysis, quick thinking, witty remark, and resourceful intuition yet may destabilize the mind with the spirit of the mad scientist, where ideas and perception are incomprehensible, offensively shocking, temperamental, fleeting and willfully intuned with one’s own perception as opposed to others. 

Pisces mercury ~ perception of reality is seen through a dewy gaze beneath the sea’s surface, where the thought shift is molded into a beautiful mist of imagination, empathy, sensitivity, psychic receptivity, and adaptability of environment. The way of speech is poetical, wistful, and mysterious yet conversely, it is paranoid, misunderstood, vague and unclear. Reasoning abilities are not strong here as the mind works through the emotions and extreme instinctual receptors. Neptunian waters can fill the mind with wakeful dreams where one is inclined to escape into the subconscious womb and yet also creates a visionary trend, where one is inclined to hopefulness, compassion and unlocking healing powers. 

Alexander: If I prove that I never broke the law, do you promise not to tell another soul what you saw?

Burr: No one was else was in the room where it happened.

Alexander: Is that a yes?

Jefferson/Madison/Burr: Um, yes.

Burr: *reading the letter* Cold in my professions, warm in friendships, I wish my dear Laurens, in my power, by actions rather than words to convince you I love you-

Alexander: THAT’S THE WRONG LETTER!

Jefferson: My god.