the truth is somewhere

We often waste an incredible amount of time wanting to be somewhere else, someone else. Our head-space gets clogged with compare, contrast, what if, why can’t, I should. But you’re never getting this time back. You can’t borrow tomorrow. Please don’t save the best for last. The best is all of you, here, where you are, brightly lit and painfully now, in this breath you’re leaving. Each second dies as it is born; every hello must say goodbye; all is fading in the collapsing hallway of a fragile hourglass, a grain at a time. You are here. The best is you, now.

Pet owners who talk like their pets comprehend everything and animal behaviorists who insist that they understand very little and are just going through rote behaviors on a fairly mindless system of reward-seeking, punishment-avoidance…. the truth is probably somewhere squarely between the two.

Nepeta is buff as hell

Like, canonically she frequently carries Pounce de Leon on their adventures when Pounce gets tired, right? But Pounce is most definitely not a house cat. Pounce is a big cat. So, I’d put her weight at anywhere between cougar weight (about a hundred pounds) and tiger weight (anywhere from 400 to 600 pounds), most likely somewhere in the middle. But either way, the truth cannot be denied. Nepeta Leijon is fucking strong and probably hides it with her coat until things get serious and she has to roll up her sleeves to expose terrifying expanses of muscle. Nepeta is buff. Nepeta is buff. Nepeta. Is. Buff.

Revelations & Confessions

AN: Hours later and I’m still reeling from that episode. it was so raw and emotional. Truthful. This is my attempt to process that.

(Set somewhere post 5x17)

Oliver sat on the cot in front of her, arms supporting his weight on his knees, head hung low. He knew she was there, he always did. Still, he refused to look up at her, to meet her gaze.

It had been this way for weeks. He’d shut himself off, emotionally, physically, much more that he had ever done before, in the times she’d known him. Then, he would always glance up, make sure that she knew that she mattered to him, in some small way.

Now, he stiller than a statue, frozen in misery.

“Oliver.” Felicity whispered, stepping towards him. Still he refused to move.

Cautiously, she approached him, her heels sounding a knell with each stiletto strike. As though every step was another scar on his skin. She settled on the floor in front of him, kneeling at his feet. This way, she could peer up at him, find his eyes and see what he was thinking.

If she knew what the wound was, she could heal him. It was deep, and unseen, but had broken Oliver to the point that he didn’t spring back by his own power or the encouragement of her or John.

Still, he didn’t move. He gave the illusion that she wasn’t really there, that perhaps she was an illusion of his mind. An echo of his mistakes.

Felicity reached out and grasped his hands, his fingers between her palms. They were cold, dry and brittle, smooth as a stone. Ridges of calluses mapped a pattern of hardship and toil, orators of his heroic acts. The same scars that revealed the instrument of darkness he held tightly to.

The instant her hands made contact with his, he shuddered, pulling away. Quickly, she reclaimed her grip.

“Don’t.” He whispered, voice hoarse from disuse.

Keep reading

2

“For me, I’m very happy to wait, I’m very happy to potentially not work for awhile, or whatever might be the requirement in order to keep doing work that I can, throughout the process — up to this point where I am trying to talk to someone about it — feel that the story has a ring of truth or there’s a ripple effect where it touches true nature somewhere along its path. Because otherwise, it’s not the art form I love, you know what I mean? Bad film isn’t film. It’s Wonderbread. There’s no nutrients so there’s no substance, so it doesn’t exist. It’s iceberg lettuce.”

People are all about that “oh, Spiritualist mediums were cheating rubes out of their money when they were speaking in ‘trances’” narrative, but LOOK they were so much more than that. Women weren’t allowed to give lectures in many places in the US back then! And even fewer were allowed to speak in front of “promiscuous assemblies” – in other words, audiences that contained both men and women. You know who could speak in front of huge audiences? Trance lecturers. We are talking about women who were suffragettes and abolitionists who could get up on stage and talk about religious and spiritual matters in front of men because they believed they were channeling spirits. These weren’t women saying “hey, your dad dad is saying this beyond the grave”. These are women saying they are accessing a Greater Truth from somewhere in the ether, and they are talking about important subjects in front of enormous audiences because that Truth is making itself known through them.

The Spiritualists were a crazy-ass group of scientists, religious reformers, and political activists. I love them! They spoke out in favor of abolition and suffrage, and you’d even have women in the 19th century writing about the evils of marriage and how women don’t need no man. They had political journals and conferences and assemblies, and there was such a huge overlap with other groups like suffragists and abolitionists and religious reformers. This wasn’t just back room seances and ghost hunting, no matter what the horror movies want you to believe. This was women and POC fighting for their rights and the rights of others, amplifying voices that never had been before, and trying to understand the mysteries of the universe. Before you get on them about spirits and ectoplasm, please keep in mind that modern germ theory hadn’t even been invented yet and scientists still believed in miasmas and shit. And you know what? An awful lot of them really did believe in the things they were studying. An awful lot of women did gain financial and social independence by channeling spirits and giving seances. Real political change was effected by the proponents and adherents of Spiritualism.

I’M JUST SAYING, THE SPIRITUALISM MOVEMENT WAS REALLY COOL AND WAS PART OF THE HISTORY OF ABOLITION AND SUFFRAGE IN AMERICA. THAT’S RIGHT, Y’ALL. GO OUT AND VOTE TODAY, AND THANK A LIL GHOST WHEN YOU DO.

Pressing pause.

First and foremost, because I don’t want to bury the lead:  I’m taking a writing hiatus.

With that out of the way:

I feel terrible just writing this post, never mind putting it out into the world. But the truth is that, right now, I need a break. Somewhere in the last couple months, writing’s felt like this overwhelming obligation more than a hobby, something I need to do because of deadlines and expectations.  I don’t feel inspired, I feel forced.

Obviously, that’s not your fault.  Honestly, I’ve felt this on and off for a while.  Blame my job (both the old and new, honestly).  Blame my psoriatic arthritis, which sometimes leaves me in “swamp creature” mode.  Blame the season, my social obligations, or the insufficient hours in the day.  Either way, I need to hit the pause button.

I promise this break is only temporary. Presumptions isn’t pefect, but I’m proud of it.  I want to finish this story and tell all the other tales that are waiting in the wings. But the problem with the last couple chapters—and, really, most of Sua Sponte—was that I let the schedule kick the story’s ass.  I worried about output, not what the characters wanted to tell me.  My writing suffered because of it.

(I really like Chapter 12. Even during the parts that hurt, Chapter 12 turned out pretty much just like I imagined.)

I never wanted to end up in a place where I needed a break in the middle of a story.  But I think Chapter 12 is a good place to pause, and more than that, I think all of us—me, you, and the characters—deserve a little more breathing room.  I’ll keep you updated.  I already think I know how the rest of the story’s going to look.  But for the first time in a long time, I’m going to let the story tell me, not the other way around.

Thanks for understanding, guys. And I promise, I’ll still be posting and acting like a general menace in the meantime. You’re not getting rid of me any time soon. 

anonymous asked:

I've heard two opposing views on the British Army at the time of the AmRev: 1) That they were the best army in the world 2) They were one of the lesser armies of Europe but came throught the AmRev as battle-hardened veterans. Is there any truth to either of these, or is the answer really somewhere in the middle?

It’s natural that you’ve heard both, 1 is very much the popular view in the US, 2 is far closer to the reality. The truth is that by 1775 no major European powers had been involved in a large-scale conflict for over a decade. Going off the successes and abilities of Frederick II, Prussia almost certainly had the best standing army at the time, while France remained extremely powerful despite the failures of the Seven Years War. British soldiers with actual combat experience were very much a minority, and mostly relegated to the officers and NCOs. 

Not only was the British Army of the American Revolution not particularly experienced, but its enemies in the militia and the Continental Army were generally on the same level. Studies have suggested that, thanks to the French and Indian War, there were actually more combat-experienced men on the side of the Whig militia at Lexington and Concord than there were in the regulars, a fact that flies in the face of the “plucky farmer stands up to ruthless veteran soldier” narrative. Both sides learned equally fast as the war progressed, though the preference the British had for relying on “veteran” units like the light infantry battalions meant they quickly saw more action than most Whig regiments. 

Ultimately by the war’s end the British Army had learned of its limitations, as well as the importance of “modern” combat involving light infantry, guerilla warfare and rifles. The idea that it was already extremely experienced going into the war is a myth based on retrospective knowledge of the British Army’s 19th century prowess. 

the truth is robert’s not going to bring it up, because robert doesn’t do feelings until he’s forced to, and because it hurts to think about, let alone dwell on the possibility that aaron still doesn’t trust him, still doubts him and his love for him after everything. 

but i think that, if robert were to say ‘it hurts when you don’t trust me, even if you want to’ now, rather than prompt any sort of conversation between them, it would just make things worse. 

aaron is trapped in a cycle of insecurities and guilt. his heart wants to trust robert, it does trust him, but his head is telling him what it always does, that he doesn’t deserve this, that robert will leave, will choose someone ‘better’, because everyone does. and aaron hates it, because he can see that he’s holding himself back but he can’t help it. and if robert said anything now aaron would only feel guiltier, as he’s wont to do. guilty for causing problems between them, guilty for hurting robert, guilty for being that way even though he can’t help it. so he would stay quiet. which is what he’s done. and he keeps bottling it up. and the only way out now is for everything to burst, which is exactly what is going to happen. things will get worse before they get better, it’s the only way out of the cycle now, unfortunately.

Anon:

Yeah, I think he did the best job with the dwarves. Vampires otoh seemed to kinda be an immigration metaphor sometimes, like, that bit where he said they’d figured the only way to be accepted was to not BE vampires anymore! somewhere in The Truth I think? It just really felt like a metaphor for assimilation. Prejudice against them is bad! Look how hard they’re trying! except not attacking people is a constant struggle, plus they have mind control powers, so really people are right to be wary.

I mean gosh it’s not that it’s not sympathetic but also if you knew someone had to constantly restrain themselves from physically attacking you and might be set off by something and unable to control themselves, it would be perfectly fair to not want to be around them! Even if they were a regular human with no special powers. I like some of the vampire stuff but some of the places he went with it were like, woah there.

Well it could be taken as a metaphor for sociopaths who want to function within society, but are aware that may require changes to the way they’d naturally operate, and ongoing support, even if people stay a little wary of them.

But as with Zootopia, you can chop and slice the analogies in many different ways. (Are the dwarves Jewish? Muslim? Both? Neither?)

If you create a rich enough world that it’s interesting on its own terms, then applicability to other domains tends to just rise to the surface naturally.