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thefullwomb · 2 months

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Roommates Pt. 1

Hailey had come to college as a bright-eyed academic. She had been accepted to one of the top bio-anthropology programs in the country and fully intended to earn her PhD. She'd gotten through her freshman year without incident. She didn't party or chase romance. She was dedicated to her studies, and her 4.1 GPA proved it.

Then, something changed during her third year. She moved in with a new roommate. His name was James, and he was HOT. This change in her living arrangements had been made necessary because her landlord had dramatically raised her rent. What had been a decent, if utterly unimpressive, two bedroom apartment was now being marketed as "luxury off campus living". With the simple addition of the word "luxury" came a $700 per month rent hike. In a panic, Hailey had put out an ad for a roommate and accepted the first candidate who didn't seem like a total loser.

James was six feet tall and slim. His mop of curly brown hair and pale angular face looked like a sculpture brought to life. But his most striking feature was his emerald green eyes. They held an intensity that left Hailey weak in the knees if she held his gaze for too long. She wanted him from the moment she laid eyes on him.

She tried her best to get his attention, but flirting wasn't exactly a skill she had developed. More often than not, she ended up feeling like she was humiliating herself as she failed over and over to get James to take her hints. She couldn't figure out what she was doing wrong. Could it be that she just wasn't his type? Maybe he preferred taller girls or heavier girls, or maybe he didn't like girls at all. She had to know, were her efforts in vain. She worked up the nerve to ask him directly, but his reply was as vague an answer as she could imagine.

"Eh, I'm not super picky. I think all kinds of people are hot." He has said with a shrug of his shoulders

Hailey wanted to scream. Not picky? If he wasn't picky, then what was so wrong with her? She wasn't a supermodel, but she was far from ugly... wasn't she? She felt her self-confidence eroding. What was wrong with her, and why wouldn't James even give her a second look? She had to know.

It didn't take long for an opportunity to present itself. James had gone out to get dinner from the nearest Chinese food place. He had also left his bedroom door open and by the flickering blue how that slipped out of the doorway it appeared he'd even left his computer on. As she snuck into James' she felt like a creep. This was wrong. She was spying on her roommate. She should just let this go, give up, and go back to being a straight A student who ignored cute guys, she thought even as she tapped the space bar and the computer screen flared to life.

With that single keystroke, Hailey suddenly got an eye full of exactly what James' type was. His computer opened up to a gaming stream, but the streamer in question wasn't the stereotypical petite e-girl. Instead, this streamer, named Charlene, was immensely pregnant. She looked to be more belly than woman. Every inch of her insanely gravid middle moved with a riot of kicking, squirming babies. As she played her game, she bragged about just how big her subs were making her as she rubbed the almost absurdly round orb that seemed to dominate her form.

Hailey was blushing hard as she continued watching the stream. She was transfixed by this impossibly pregnant streamer. Her hands involuntarily began to rub her own flat belly as some deep, primal part of her began to awaken. She had never put much thought into having babies beyond imagining it as some far away possibility. But, in that moment, she craved being filled to bursting with her lovers, with James' offspring.

Suddenly, Hailey was snapped back to reality when she heard the front door being unlocked. James was home, and she was still in his room and on his computer without his knowledge. Hailey let out a small squeak as she hurriedly fled to the privacy of her own room. She laid on her bed, so wound up and horny that the thought of tackling James and forcing him to plant his babies in her womb almost sounded like a good idea... almost. Instead, she put her favorite vibrator between her legs and screamed her newly unlocked desires into a stack of pillows.

It took a few weeks for Hailey to come up with a plan. After all, how could she get the attention of a guy who was clearly VERY into pregnant girls without risking becoming a single mother? It turned out that the answer was surprisingly simple: she would carry a surrogate pregnancy. It was the perfect plan. She would get to live out her newly discovered pregnancy fetish, make a decent amount of money, and, hopefully, bag her crush.

She signed up to carry a set of quads just before Christmas break. She wanted to make sure that she'd be on summer vacation during her final trimester. It didn't take her long to stay showing, and by spring break came around, she looked ready to pop. Onlookers could have been forgiven for assuming that she was overdue with twins by the time summer vacation began. As she grew bigger, rounder, heavier, and more pregnant by the day, she made sure to put herself on display for James' benefit. She would waddle around the apartment in her pre pregnancy clothes, which clung to every curve of her gravid body. She made a big show of being stuck on the couch and needing James to help her up.

Finally, near the end of her eighth month, she was lying on her bed and attempting to lotion her belly. There was so much that she couldn't reach and the babies kicked and squirmed, making her belly bulge and writhe as she tried to fight off her stretch marks and soothed her overstretched skin. She hadn't expected it at the start of her pregnancy, but as she'd grown bigger and bigger, Hailey realized that it turned her on being too pregnant to rub her entire belly, too pregnant to get off the couch unassisted, too pregnant to walk out of the apartment without being winded. She imagined how much better it would be if the babies that had all but taken over her body were hers. Between her fantasy, her hormones, and the sensations of her womb packed tight with squirming babies, Hailey felt a climax building. She was so lost in her own lust that she forgot that James could hear her as she screamed his name and came with a shudder.

She nearly screamed again as James burst into her room thinking that his hugely pregnant roommate was in trouble.

“Are the babies coming?!” He asked, still panicking

Hailey’s head was still spinning from her orgasm. She could barely form a thought let alone think up a convincing excuse for screaming his name.

“I… umm… I uh… I needed you to.” She stammered, still rubbing her tremendous belly like a fidget toy “C-could you help me rub my belly?”

Still, confused and now a little bit flustered himself, James sat on the edge of Hailey's bed. As he began rubbing the coco butter onto his roommates belly he felt his pants growing tighter by the second. Since the moment they'd met he'd had a crush on her. One she got pregnant, and especially once she'd started showing, his crush had only become more pronounced. But he hadn't said anything, he had done his best to keep his feelings to himself. He was so scared that if he admitted his feelings that they wouldn't be reciprocated and that things would get awkward.

But, in that moment James' arousal managed to overpower his apprehension. “I think your really hot, and I've wanted to ask you out for a since I met you but I was scared you wouldn't like me and it would be awkward and I know you're pregnant and everything, but I think that's kinda hot and I know that probably sounds weird but… but I… uh…”

James' confession flowed out of him in a single, panicked breath. As he spoke, his cheeks developed a burning red blush. He felt like an idiot, but he had already committed. He couldn't unsay what he'd already confessed. Then he noticed that Hailey looked just as flustered as he felt.

“Fuck, I'm… I'm sorry that was stupid… I'm an idiot, I'll just go.” James said as he prepared to flee back to his own room

“Wait!” Hailey called out, she tried to jump out of bed, but the weight of her full womb kept her pinned in place. “I uh… I don't think it's stupid or weird, in fact I've had a crush on you since we met.”

“You did?” Asked James, almost too stunned to believe this was truly happening

“Yeah…” replied Hailey sheepishly

The two held each other's gaze for what felt like an eternity. The tension that gives between them was nearly electric. Then, James rushed forward and wrapped his arms around Hailey. He started into her eyes for one last moment before kissing her with the passion of a long lost lover. She melted in his arms and returned his kiss. It was impossible to tell who started it, but within moments they were stripping each other naked. Clothes flew to the floor with haphazard abandon.

“I want you, Hailey.” James said as if that wasn't the most obvious statement in the world at that very moment.

“I need you, James.” Hailey replied

In a moment Hailey was on her hands and knees. Her huge, pregnant belly pressed into the mattress as James took his place between her legs. His hips pressed against the pillowy curve of her ass and the tip of his cock slipped between the dripping wet lips of her pussy. He held his tip just at the entrance of her birth canal for a brief instant before slowly sliding the throbbing shaft of his manhood deep into Hailey.

They both let out moans of ecstasy as their bodies joined together in a primal union. James leaned forward and grabbed Hailey’s arms pulling them back as his hands did down to hold hers. She was rocked forward, balanced on the gravid orb of her womb as James began to thrust. His member hit spots that she didn't even know she had as he ravished her like an animal in heat.

Their moans and cries grew louder and faster as they approached the event horizons of their climaxes as one. Hailey could feel the babies in her womb moving with and thrashing, agitated by her weight pressing down on her belly and the violent shaking of James’ thrusts.

“I WANT YOUR BABIES!!” She cried out “I want you to get me pregnant. Please, PLEASE get me pregnant. I need to feel your babies inside me.”

“Fuck, Hailey I want to knock you up so fucking bad.”James replied, his voice carried a desperate edge that made it clear that the very thought of impending her was beginning him that much closer to blowing his load “I want to make you pregnant over and over again. I want to watch you waddle around with a heavy belly full of my kids forever. And I… just want… to keep you… pregnant FOREVER!!!!”

James' voice rose to a guttural shout and Hailey’s rose to match it as they came together in a moment of pure, carnal bliss. James cock exploded its hot load of his seed, plastering the walls of Hailey's pussy. Her walls quivered and milked his cock for every last drop of his potent sperm.

Exhausted and high on a potent cocktail of hormones, the two young lovers collapsed into a spooning snuggle and passed out. The last thing Hailey could remember before skipping into the velvet embrace of sleep was the feeling of James’ arm wrapping protectively around her belly.

A huge shoutout to the ever lovely @pr-g for inspiring and providing the image for this story. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: give her a follow, and you won't be disappointed.

I'll be posting part 2 very soon. When it's up, I'll be leaving a linking it in the comments of this post to make it a little easier to find. Stay tuned!

#preggo kink #preggophilia #huge pregnant belly #pregnancy #pregnant kink #pregnancy captions #pregnant captions #permanent pregnancy #pregnant fiction #surro verse #pregnant romance

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mandu-17 · 7 months

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Need a little something | Jeon Soyeon x fem! reader

Requested by: Anonymous

Request: 1) Can I request a g!p top yuqi or soyeon fic? Any scenario you want ofc

2) Are your request still open? No pressure if they aren't but if they are can you make a soyeon smut fanfic?

Warnings: G!P Soyeon, blowjob, cursing

Genre: Smut, Soft Dom!Soyeon

Wordcount: ~ 2,926

A/N: i think i love this one

“Unnie, you’re scaring me.”

With a frown Shuhua watched as her leader, Jeon Soyeon had a full blown breakdown. She’d never seen the other member like that, even when their own company was being ridiculous or awful to them it was always Soyeon who kept their spirits up.

And now, in her little studio Soyeon had her face hidden in her hands, as she was sitting behind the desk. Maknae bit her lip, while analyzing the music program that was turned on on Soyeon’s computer. As expected, she was already working on (G)I-DLE’s new album even though they had barely finished previous promotions.

“It’s just not it.”

Shuhua sighed after hearing the exact same sentence for another time. A little part of her was relieved that the leader wasn’t mad at any of her struggles in the studio booth this time, yet still she hated the fact that Soyeon had to suffer so much for being a perfectionist.

“Something’s missing. I was sure I had it all planned out in my head but something’s still not clicking in here.” Soyeon pointed to the screen.

Shuhua sneakily pulled her phone out of the pocket and messaged for the other members to help with comforting Soyeon. A brainstorm is always a good idea.

“Maybe we should add a different harmony!”

“No.”

“Write some more rap?”

“No.”

“Let’s have Yuqi have all the lines?”

„Never!” Soyeon giggled, while turning in her office chair. Her eyes met Shuhua’s briefly, as she began swinging from side to side. It was a small success.

“JEON SOYEON!”

A loud voice caused both of them to turn their heads to see Yuqi entering the room with Miyeon and Minnie walking closely behind. Chinese tried to hug leader’s head, but she was only met with a playful slap. Meanwhile Puppy Sisters sat down next to Shuhua on the couch.

“A little bird told us you’re being dramatic.”

“Yah, Yuqi! Have some manners.” Miyeon scolded the main dancer, she felt sorry for Soyeon. She was aware how incredibly important music and creating was to the middle member.

“It’s just not it. I don’t know what else to tell you. I’ve been working on it for the past three days, but I just can’t come up with that special little something.”

Soyeon explained with her hands dropping hopelessly.

“Let us hear it though.” Minnie chimed in, a bag of hazelnuts already in her fingers as Shuhua tried to steal some of it. “We’ll see together.”

After seeing encouraging nods from the rest of the group, Soyeon turned to the computer again and pressed space bar. Then she watched the girls for their reactions.

“It’s so cool, unnie.” Yuqi started dancing almost immediately, she even had few ideas for the choreography.

“Ooh I love this part!” Miyeon pointed out while Minnie and Shuhua were also just happily vibing to the song and lip syncing most of it.

Soyeon paused it suddenly.

“I’m not saying it’s bad! It’s just not what I want. I still have to work on it.”

Four groans were heard.

“I think it’s going to be a hit.” Yuqi’s wide eyes turned to Soyeon felt almost like an attack with how intense she was looking at her. “I’m serious!”

Leader only shook her head slightly.

“No, if Y/N was here to say it, Soyeon unnie would agree.” Shuhua chuckled causing the fuss all over the room.

With that loud laugh of hers Miyeon nodded at her words immediately, Yuqi whined feeling unappreciated and Minnie was just dying out of laughter on the couch - her fondness for maknae raising automatically. In the middle of it all, Soyeon was trying to protest and disagree, but no one was listening anyways. That’s when Miyeon thought of an idea.

“What if she came over?”

“Should we call her?” Shuhua quickly joined in, she liked you a lot.

“Guys, it’s not her problem though.” The leader wasn’t against your company - heck, she’d do anything to have her beautiful girlfriend around more but she just didn’t feel comfortable with having you there while she was working. It was her work after all, she’d hate to bother you.

“Let Y/N save the day. Call her, Soyeonie.” Minnie smiled softly at Soyeon. Thai had known her leader for so long and it really seemed like only you could make a difference.

Short girl rolled her eyes playfully but obeyed nonetheless and dialed your number in no time. Everyone present leaned in and with big eyes they were all expecting to hear your voice soon.

“Baby?” You answered sweetly.

Soyeon’s eyes widened, she could feel a hot, deep blush spreading on her face.

For the second time, the room filled with laughter. It was a pure chaos.

“Hey, Y/N. You’re on speaker and the members are here too.” Soyeon quickly said, her left hand covering half of her face, as she still felt embarrassed.

“Oh...” It was clear you also felt uneasy about the situation although moment later you just laughed it off and used your sweet tone again. “Hi everyone.”

The members took turns saying ‘hi’ to you, then Shuhua took the initiative, “Unnie, are you busy now?”

“Not really, why?”

They all looked at Soyeon as if they wanted to prove that you were literally one call away when she needed you.

“You should come over! Soyeon-ah is a mess without you.” Yuqi laughed causing Miyeon to slap her arm.

“Yah, Yuqi stop with that.” Soyeon whined, her foot weakly kicking up not even touching Chinese’s leg.

“No, but seriously can you come over? Soyeon is stressing over this new song, but she’s not listening to us. If you don’t have anything better to do then I’m sure we could all use your company.” Minnie suggested, Shuhua nodded at her words as if you could see it.

“Sure, I’ll be there in 20 minutes. I just have to hang the laundry.”

“Omo, perfect!” You felt something warm feeling your tummy after listening to all of their happy reactions. You sometimes couldn’t believe they liked you so much.

“Okay, we’ll be waiting in my studio. Fourth floor.” Soyeon finally spoke up, gentle smile grazing her face. Even her sudden producing block couldn’t stop her from smiling at you.

“Okie, see you soon!”

Once the call ended all (G)-IDLE’s members exchanged looks before bursting out laughing. Soyeon’s poor couch kept on getting hit by the girls.

“So where’s my patient?”

Was the first thing you said after opening the door.

All the girls cheered up loudly even though you’d barely entered. Soyeon’s sharp eyes found yours right away, she felt her heart skip a beat. Your smile lit up the whole room.

“Hi, how are you all?” You asked the members kindly.

“Good and you?”

“Great, thank you.”

“Listen, unnie if you won’t do anything about her I’m gonna-” Shuhua stopped midway in order to dramatically pull at her hair.

“Jump out the window.” Yuqi finished for maknae perfectly though.

You tilted your head curiously and finally stepped towards Soyeon, who was still sitting on the office chair. Frankly speaking, it seemed to her that she was trapped there. Allowed to leave the studio only once this certain song is finished.

“What’s wrong Soyeon-ah?” With your hands resting on chair backrest, you leaned in to the screen watching the music program fascinated. Even though you weren’t exactly sure what you were looking at you felt glad to just be there. You’d admired Jeon Soyeon since you could remember. Her ideas, visions and these genius observations of the world around her. Even before the two of you met and started dating she never failed to amaze you. You used to watch her on tv and now the fact that you could be introduced to some people as her girlfriend made your chest fill with pride every single time.

“Just listen to this part.” Defeated, Soyeon played the song.

She had to bite the inside of her cheek real hard in order to focus on your genuine reaction and not that sweet, familiar smell of you that hit her so closely. Few strands of your hair tickled the skin of her shoulder that was not covered by the black tank top she was wearing. Whenever your body this was near she felt both at ease and very excited.

“Woah! It’s so cool, I love it.” Soyeon looked up unconvinced, her eyebrows raised at you. She could almost feel your breaths fanning her face. “I can’t see the problem in here. I really can’t, baby.”

“See?! It’s a good song.” Minnie exclaimed, slowly getting tired of the situation. And especially since you arrived, she figured the four of them won’t be needed anymore.

“It’s empty. It’s missing something. I don’t know what it is yet but it just needs a little something to it.” Soyeon stayed stubborn.

“Ah I see... Issues of a perfectionist.” You teased your girlfriend, but only for a short second. You were far too scared of her small figure and what she was capable of.

Your comment made the members giggle and agree with you completely meanwhile Soyeon glared at you.

“How about you turn it off?” You suggested with a small shrug.

“What?” Leader frowned.

“What?” The rest of the group was also surprised about your idea.

“Right now you’re just suffering. In fact, everyone present in this room can feel your struggle and because you’re too focused on it now you can’t find the solution. So my advice would be to turn off this computer and just... try to relax for a bit. Then the idea will come to you naturally.”

The second you had said the word ‘relax’ in front of Soyeon in her work mode fully on, you wished to face palm yourself. The look on her face was priceless, as if you were an alien.

“Wait, what if it actually works?” Miyeon looked at others’ faces.

“It does make sense. I think we could give it a try.” Shuhua agreed with Miyeon, which was not an often moment.

“Soyeon-ah?” Yuqi searched for the leader’s opinion on it all.

“Turn it off and then what? How am I supposed to relax when I can’t even think straight.” She tried to brush the idea off, but luckily you could be stubborn as well.

“So you’re agreeing that it actually drives you insane? Then let’s just take a small break, Soyeon. Do you know what a break is?”

Shuhua’s mouth fell open when she heard your question. Most of the times, you were a very kind person, but once you got sarcastic it was incredibly entertaining to watch. Especially your ‘arguments’ with Soyeon were fun to watch, as they made the two of you sound like an old married couple.

“It is making me frustrated, but I have to finish it. There’s no way I’m taking a break now.”

“But that is the only way to finish it! You have to let your brain rest for at least a couple of minutes to have a fresh look on this. Then the missing part will come.” The members’ heads were turning from her to you like they were watching a tennis match. The ball was now on Soyeon’s side.

„No! I have to finish it first.”

“You need a break!” Minnie’s head fell on the couch backrest, she closed her eyes before mentally counting to three.

This didn’t go exactly as planned. Minnie simply thought that after arriving you’d tell Soyeon how great the song was and that Soyeon would drop the topic immediately. Everyone around their leader could see how important your opinions were to her. And how much she liked being complimented by you. Her lips used to create that coy yet satisfied smirk whenever you were gasping amazed.

None of the girls expected you and Soyeon to fight although they all knew that neither of you would ever hurt the other person. It was safe to leave you two alone. At least convincing Soyeon wasn’t their problem anymore.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Ye-”

“I’m leaving.” Thai stood up and with no look back left the studio.

Maknae was fast to follow her. Miyeon and Yuqi exchanged looks, the two of you hadn’t even noticed that someone was leaving, it seemed. The oldest shrugged and also left the room while pulling Yuqi with her by the shirt. Only once the door closed behind them you looked up to see no one there anymore.

“Oh.” You frowned cutely.

Soyeon shook her head with an amused smile before putting it in her hands as she did with Shuhua being the only one present before.

“What?” You asked when you heard a sudden fit of giggles leave Soyeon.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Y/N.” She rubbed her eyes and did something that shook you to the core.

She turned off the music program.

You were about to ask whether Soyeon was feeling okay when she was the one to speak first.

“Come here.” She opened her arms gesticulating for you to take a sit on her lap.

“Was it so damn hard?” With a bit of her help you made yourself comfortable. You hugged her by the neck making your heads bump together. Not too hard but just so that both of you could feel the other person’s presence. To Soyeon, it was a heartwarming gesture.

She shushed you, one of her hands caressing your hair slowly.

After all day in front of the computer, she had to redirect her senses. She wanted you to fill her space, to be the center of it. She’d make you the center of universe if she could.

“Baby?” You murmured enjoying the way her body was warming you up. She hummed in response, her eyelids falling close for a short, blissful moment. “I think I know what you need. I think I know the perfect way to make you relax.”

“You think so, Y/N?” Now she was wide awake, “I think you have to show me.”

Her hands gripped your hips in order to make you face her properly. You bit your lip at the way her nails dug into your skin through the material of your shirt. Hazy look in Soyeon’s eyes had you already anticipating her next moves, words.

“Will you be a good girl and show me? Will you help me relax?” She whispered straight into your mouth, as if she was putting a spell on you. Hypnotizing you with her seductive voice.

You could give a bare nod before her lips crashed onto yours making your mind delete every single thing that existed besides the two of you in that room. In her little studio. You’d never done it in public, how thrilling.

“Close the door first.” As fast as possible you got up and did as you were told. She turned the chair in your direction letting you see her back confidently leaned against it with her elbows lazily resting on the armrest. “Now get on your knees.”

You gulped and your eyes even widened due to excitement, Soyeon smirked amused by how easy you were to turn on. You were so fun to play with. Her words were your command. She loved watching your hungry eyes following every single move of her fingers while they worked on the belt.

“Now I want you to make me forget all about that damn song.” Soyeon rasped once she let her member stand freely in front of your face.

“Say no more, baby.” You met her eyes for a brief second, wanting her to know that you’d never disappoint. There was no way you’d loose an opportunity to please her.

Gentle, yet firm your hold was on her at first. You took your time moving your hand up and down her shaft meeting her wet with precum, tip. You bit your lip at the sight and let your thumb smear it. Your actions earned a breathy moan from your girlfriend.

When you looked up you saw Soyeon’s head had fully fallen on the chair.

“Don’t stop, my good girl.” Her lips created a lazy smile after she felt your mouth wrap around her length.

You grabbed the base of her cock meanwhile your warm tongue took care of its’ upper part. Over time with Soyeon, you learned how to give incredible blowjobs. You knew how to use your mouth and knew exactly what tipped your girlfriend over the edge.

“My god, Y/N. You’re so good at it.” Groans kept spilling from her, as your tongue moved the right way, sucking her deliciously.

Soyeon’s fingers pulled on your hair, she didn’t even need to guide you, just needed something to keep herself grounded. Her hips bucked without her really acknowledging it.

You hummed against her cock, almost smiling at Soyeon’s responses to you. Only you could see her like that, taste her here and there. The vibrations you made had your girlfriend panting heavily, her orgasm was approaching. It was approaching fast.

“Fuck, baby.” Her shaft was throbbing in your mouth and your hand was playing with her balls - it was over for Jeon Soyeon. She was addicted to your touch, even her words came out stuttered. “I-I’m cumming.”

Eagerly, you swallowed everything she gave you, slightly slurping. Soyeon moaned your name, trying her best not to be loud at the same time. After you pulled away in order to wipe your mouth, she looked at you with a satisfied smile, eyes full of stars.

“You should visit me here more often.”

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astrojulia · 1 year

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Asteroid Fan (151590): Understanding Its Signs, Houses, and Planetary Aspects

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ About the Asteroid: Finding out about the astronomical part of this asteroid was not easy and to be honest, I can't say if the information is correct. What I can say is that it was discovered between 2004/2006 and that it was named after the late Chinese astronomer and physicist, Dr. Fan Zhaohui. doctor Fan was an expert in celestial mechanics and made significant contributions to the study of the orbits of asteroids and comets. He also played a crucial role in the development of China's space program.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Sources and inspirations: As it was already difficult to find astronomical information, it was more difficult to find astrological information, so much that you can see the heavy inspiration in this post here, which was the most complete that I found on the subject. However as the blog is deactivated and if you are a tumblr browser user like me you will have a hard time seeing the whole post. That's why there are parts that are references to the post as well as parts that are my own interpretation. Also, the image template in from minikyuns on deviantart.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Asteroid Fan Rx: Your fans are more withdrawn and hidden, having a more introspective and reflective relationship with you. You can also bring out more hidden or intense feelings in fans. They may become more obsessed or possessive of you, or they may feel a stronger connection to you. Your fans are the type to always question your actions and reconsider whether or not they should continue to admire you, each time you prove that yes, the harder it is for them to leave.

Asteroid Fan in Signs

✧. ┊ Aries: With Asteroid Fan in Aries, get ready for an enthusiastic and passionate supporter. They're drawn to your energy and may see you as a leader or trailblazer. They're spontaneous, expressive and quick to react to everything you do. You can expect lots of random compliments and affection, but they may also get defensive and impatient with people who don't like you.These fans may also be very demanding of you and want to have your content on a daily basis.

✧. ┊ Taurus: With an Asteroid Fan in Taurus, your beauty and sensuality are what they love about you. They may be supportive of your material goals and see you as a source of comfort. These fans are loyal, constant and trustworthy. They love letting you know how much you mean to them, but they can also be quite protective and jealous. Your fans also expect the best from your work, even if it takes time.

✧. ┊ Gemini: The Asteroid Fan in Gemini is all about communication skills and intellectual curiosity. They may follow you on social media and send you long messages, often with a playful and witty tone. They're fans one day and roasting you the next, but they're excited when you reply. They are the type that most reblog/share their content to others.

✧. ┊ Cancer: With Asteroid Fan in Cancer, it's all about emotional depth and sensitivity. They see you as a source of emotional support or a parental figure. They're very protective of you and always willing to listen when you need to vent. You are hardly the type to see your fans, as they appear more in fights and discussions to defend you than giving you likes, comments... they are more of the types that only observe the content, always following but not actively showing up.

✧. ┊ Leo: The Asteroid Fan in Leo is drawn to your charisma and creativity. They're supportive of your artistic endeavors and see you as a source of inspiration. These fans idolize you completely and are always looking for ways to keep you in a good mood. They're warm, playful, and very admiring of you.They see you as a kind leader.

✧. ┊ Virgo: With Asteroid Fan in Virgo, they're drawn to your work ethic and attention to detail. They may be helpful in your daily life and provide practical support. These fans are devoted, but can be a bit shy when interacting with you. They're intelligent, calm, and willing to do anything for you. These are the types of fans with whom the more you create a routine of posts and interaction, the more they help you to grow.

✧. ┊ Libra: With Asteroid Fan in Libra your fans are drawn to your sense of balance and harmony. They share your values and interests and admire your sense of style. These fans bring you peace and harmony, and they're emotional and loving. They trust you and may ask for your advice.

✧. ┊ Scorpio: The Asteroid Fan in Scorpio is drawn to your intensity and emotional depth. They see you as someone who understands their innermost feelings and desires, and they may be interested in spiritual or mystical topics. These fans are extremely intense and loyal, sometimes even obsessed. They're reserved, but feel a deep connection to you.You can also provoke difficult emotions in them with envy and anger.

✧. ┊ Sagittarius: Asteroid Fan in Sagittarius, they share your love of learning and exploring new ideas. They see you as a source of wisdom and guidance, and they're often drawn to your spiritual or philosophical beliefs. These fans are positive and fun, and love to interact with you. They're focused on you and may even idealize you a bit. You will probably attract a lot of fans younger than you, who really need more patience and care when transmitting information.

✧. ┊ Capricorn: The Asteroid Fan in Capricorn is drawn to your success and ambition. They see you as a role model or leader and may be supportive of your career or public image. These fans are consistent, productive and determined. They may feel a bit intimidated by you, but are willing to do a lot for you.This is the kind of fan that gets to see behind the scenes, the details that lead up to the result. So it's not just something you post that they see, but they can see the fonts you used, the design, etc.

✧. ┊ Aquarius: The Asteroid Fan in Aquarius indicates fans who share their idol's interests and values. Fans may be connected to their idol through social causes or activism. Your fans sincerely believe in you and will trust your words and ideas. These individuals are highly creative and often feel like they're not fully understood by others. However, when it comes to you, they feel like you get them on a deeper level. Your followers have the potential to become your close companions, and the bond between you is characterized by warmth, joy, and a distinct sense of individuality. Your ability to make them feel valued and important is a key aspect of this special connection.

✧. ┊ Pisces: The Asteroid Fan in Pisces indicates fans who are drawn to their idol's creativity and emotional depth. Fans may see their idol as a source of inspiration and be drawn to their artistic expression or spiritual beliefs. Your fans are very emotional and have an intense connection to you. They are very devoted to you and may see you as a source of comfort or escape from their own reality. They may express their feelings in a poetic or dreamy way. You may attract fans who are empathic or intuitive, who feel a deep spiritual connection with you.

Asteroid Fan in Houses

✧. ┊1st House: With Asteroid Fan in the 1st house, you have a natural charm that attracts fans and admirers. Your fans see you as a leader and may relate to you on a deep level. They want to be like you or be very similar to you. Your fans may even become your close friends, and you make them feel appreciated and special. You easily gain admiration, and some of your fans may be exclusively devoted to you.

✧. ┊2nd House:The Asteroid Fan in the 2nd house indicates that your fans may be very supportive of you financially. They share your values and interests and may admire your sense of style and taste. Your fans are consistent and detail-oriented. They may give you gifts, pictures, or small gestures, and they will always boost your self-esteem without being asked. You can always count on them for support and stability.

✧. ┊3rd House: With Asteroid Fan in the 3rd house, your fans appreciate your communication skills and intellectual abilities. They may follow you on social media or other forms of online communication. These types of fans are fun, chaotic, and always take the time to write you a beautiful message. They check up on you and ask about your day-to-day, and they can become very close to you. You may even have admirers from your school days, and you're a common topic of conversation in their lives.

✧. ┊4th House:The Asteroid Fan in the 4th house indicates that your fans see you as a source of emotional support or a parental figure. They may be connected to you through your shared cultural or familial background. Your fans find refuge in you, and they feel very close to you. You make them feel comfortable with themselves, and there is a strong and lovable connection between you and them. Your fans are intuitive and can quickly pick up on your mood, and they treasure you very much.

✧. ┊5th House: With the Asteroid Fan in the 5th house, your fans are drawn to your creativity, passion, and self-expression. They see you as a source of inspiration and may be very supportive of your artistic endeavors. Your fans are fun, spontaneous, and loving, and they may tease you playfully. You share many hobbies and personality traits with them, and they put you on a kind of pedestal. Many want to be like you and could even see you as a role model. Some may even find you attractive and appealing and develop a crush on you.

✧. ┊6th House: The Asteroid Fan in the 6th house indicates that your fans appreciate your work ethic and attention to detail. They may be helpful in your daily life and provide practical support and assistance. Your fans are helpful and deeply devoted to you, and they take away your stress, making you feel more relaxed. They support and appreciate everything you do, and their support is unconditional and constant. You become part of their routine, and they cherish you.

✧. ┊7th House: The Asteroid Fan in the 7th house signifies fans who are drawn to their idol's charisma and charm, seeing them as a potential partner or companion who shares their values and interests. These fans deeply adore you and are committed to your success. Although they may differ from you in personality, they become close to you and receive your affection. They may even see you as a crush.

✧. ┊8th House:The Asteroid Fan in the 8th house signifies fans who are attracted to their idol's intensity and emotional depth, seeing them as someone who understands their innermost feelings and desires. These fans feel a great interest in you and discover your most personal and profound aspects. They identify with you closely and feel intrigued by you. They respect you for your maturity, and there is a lot of intimacy and closeness between them and you.

✧. ┊9th House:The Asteroid Fan in the 9th house signifies fans who share their idol's love of learning and exploring new ideas, seeing them as a source of wisdom and guidance. These fans are friendly and curious, and they see you as superior on many levels. They are interested in your philosophy and thinking, and they appreciate not only your talent but also your personality.

✧. ┊10th House:The Asteroid Fan in the 10th house signifies fans who are drawn to their idol's success and ambition, seeing them as a role model or leader. These fans respect you and support your career and public image. They form a strong community, and they see you as a professional. They may be slightly intimidated by you, but they are loyal and supportive, always encouraging you to improve and trust your abilities.

✧. ┊11th House: The Asteroid Fan in the 11th house signifies fans who share their idol's interests and values, connected through social causes or activism. These fans see you as eccentric and inspiring, with a friendly and approachable personality. They feel motivated by you and empowered to pursue their goals. They are very diverse, and you have a large fanbase. You have great influence over them.

✧. ┊12th House: The Asteroid Fan in the 12th house signifies fans who are drawn to their idol's mystical or spiritual nature, seeing them as a source of inspiration or guidance in their own spiritual journey. These fans find solace and sanctuary in you, and they feel that you understand them. They are very dedicated, sentimental, and expressive, and they may become addicted to you. They idolize you and see you better than you see yourself.

Asteroid Fan Aspects Overview

✧. ┊Conjunction: A conjunction between the Asteroid Fan and a planet indicates that a person's fans may have a strong impact on their personality or life path. Fans may be very important to their idol's success or sense of self.

✧. ┊Trine or Sextile: A sextile or trine between the Asteroid Fan and a planet indicates that a person's fans may provide support or opportunities for growth and development. Fans may be helpful in their idol's personal or professional life.

✧. ┊Square or Opposition:A square or opposition between the Asteroid Fan and a planet indicates that a person's fans may cause conflict or tension in their life. Fans may have difficulty relating to their idol or may be a source of stress.

Asteroid Fan in Aspect to Planets

✧. ┊Sun: The Asteroid Fan in aspect to the Sun indicates that the person's fans may be drawn to their identity or sense of self. Fans may see their idol as a potential role model or leader.These people like their idol's creativity, enthusiasm and positivity.

✧. ┊Moon: The Asteroid Fan in aspect to the Moon indicates that the person's fans may be drawn to their emotional depth or sensitivity. Fans may see their idol as a source of comfort or support. These people like their idol in a more reserved and quiet way, almost as if it were that childhood thing that you like a lot but are ashamed to say you like.

✧. ┊Mercury: The Asteroid Fan in aspect to Mercury indicates that the person's fans may be drawn to their communication skills or intellectual curiosity. Fans may be connected to their idol through social media or other forms of online communication and talk about their idol to everyone so they can make a bigger fan-base.

✧. ┊Venus:The Asteroid Fan in aspect to Venus indicates that the person's fans may be drawn to their beauty or sensuality. Fans may appreciate their idol's style or taste. These people like the way their idol behaves in the world, being inspired by their behavior and style.

✧. ┊Mars: The Asteroid Fan in aspect to Mars indicates that the person's fans may be drawn to their energy or passion. Fans may see their idol as a leader or trailblazer and be inspired by their courage and enthusiasm.

✧. ┊Jupiter: The Asteroid Fan in aspect to Jupiter indicates that the person's fans may share their idol's love of learning and exploring new ideas. Fans may see their idol as a source of wisdom and guidance and may be drawn to their spiritual or philosophical beliefs. These fans try everything to support their idol, mainly in the form of money, but also by showing up at the events their idol is at.

✧. ┊Saturn: The Asteroid Fan in aspect to Saturn indicates that the person's fans may be drawn to their success and ambition. Fans may see their idol as a role model or leader and be supportive of their career or public image. These fans also support their idols, but because they believe in its worth and its work and want the person it idolizes to succeed.

✧. ┊Uranus: The Asteroid Fan in aspect to Uranus indicates that the person's fans may share their idol's interests and values. Fans may be connected to their idol through social causes or activism. It's also very connected to teenage and unconventional fans, who are very active on the internet.

✧. ┊Neptune: The Asteroid Fan in aspect to Neptune indicates that the person's fans may be drawn to their mystical or spiritual nature. Fans may see their idol as a source of inspiration or guidance in their own spiritual journey. These fans may also find their idol mind-boggling, yet utterly alluring.

✧. ┊Pluto: The Asteroid Fan in aspect to Pluto indicates that the person's fans may be drawn to their intensity or emotional depth. Fans may see their idol as someone who understands their innermost feelings and desires and may be interested in spiritual or mystical topics. These fans also see their idol as someone very reserved but powerful, who will take on important roles without making a fuss about it.

(CC) AstroJulia Some Rights Reserved

#astrology #astro notes #astro observations #astrology observations #astro community #astrojulia #all about astrology #witchblr #astroblr #witch community #natal chart #asteroids #asteroid fan #Asteroid Fan (151590)

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learnwithmearticles · 1 month

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KOSA Update

Following up on a previous post about the KOSA bill - a bill that would drastically change how the internet functions, in some ways enforcing the collection of private information and restricting access to educational material based on anyone’s belief that it might be harmful to children.

As of March 2024, the bill has gone through revision to reduce the ability to target marginalized communities. However, the language used in the bill is still broad and would be ultimately harmful to children and adult internet users.

Press releases like that of the American Civil Liberties Union invoke the First Amendment to highlight both the bill’s continued call for requiring or incentivizing age verification and its goal of censoring many different topics of conversation in online spaces.

If the U.S. government seeks to control, censor, and otherwise interfere with the world of the internet, then it would have to be a government program akin to public education or certain libraries. Let that government take over the responsibilities of running and funding the internet in that case if they want that power. Otherwise, the internet does not fall under federal jurisdiction.

In response to reaching out regarding this bill, one Congressman wrote that platforms like TikTok have come under scrutiny for “leaving users’ data vulnerable to access by the Chinese Communist Party, by collecting personal information on children in violation of federal law”. This Congressman does not state in this response whether he supports the KOSA bill in particular, but we hope that he is aware that this proposed bill would, by federal law, necessitate the collection of personal information of minors if websites are to follow its requirements. Additionally, TikTok’s data collection is comparable to that of other sites such as Instagram and Facebook, which are just as able to be infiltrated by political enemies of the U.S.

This update is not about the U.S. government’s ultimatum to the company ByteDance that will likely end in a U.S. ban on TikTok. Still, that news is relevant to internet users, especially those who value choice and self-determination.

In the aforementioned Congressman’s response, he also mentions the Privacy Enhancing Technology Research Act (H.R. 4755). That bill, passed in 2023, calls for organizations like the National Science Foundation to conduct and support research into technologies for mitigating privacy risks. Bills like this one are far more conducive to achieving online safety than the proposed KOSA bill. It seeks to enhance our understanding of data handling and online privacy, while the KOSA bill is more so blindly punching towards a problem that we do not yet have a clear view of.

As before, resources to further learn about and speak out against the bill are below.

Resources:

1.https://www.aclu.org/press-releases/revised-kids-online-safety-act-is-an-improvement-but-congress-must-still-address-first-amendment-concerns

2.https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2024/02/dont-fall-latest-changes-dangerous-kids-online-safety-act

3. https://www.stopkosa.com/

4. Privacy Enhancing Technology Research Act

5. KOSA Bill Post-Revision6.https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2024/03/analyzing-kosas-constitutional-problems-depth#

#kosa bill #stop kosa #kosa #politics #us politics #article #news #resources #first amendment #freedom of speech

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pareidoliaonthemove · 1 month

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Left for Dead

Part One

Scott Tracy breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the wheels of the ‘conventional’ jet he was flying left the tarmac.

His never failed to feel lighter once he was no longer touching the earth, but this time the relief was more intense than usual.

As he guided the executive jet – once Jeff’s favourite plane, a sleek long-haul commercial jet that had been the Aviation arm of Tracy Industries flagship product, and dubbed ‘Tracy One’ – exactly through the ‘gateway’ at the end of the runway climb out, the radio crackled to live. The heavily accented English of the Departures Controller for Trondheim Lufthavn gave him his final instructions to clear the Lufthavn’s controlled airspace and join his filed flightpath out of Norway and back to Tracy Island.

He only let himself relax as he hit his cruising speed and altitude, and activated the pre-programmed autopilot.

Reaching back he caught the retractable tray table and dragged it towards him, before picking up his insulated mug, a custom-made gift from Brains that allowed him to ensure he had hot coffee available on a solo flight in the plane.

He couldn’t help glancing back at the safe built into the bulkhead at the back of the cockpit. He still had grave reservations about getting TI involved in the construction of the World Government’s new high-security computer system to be based in Norway; but the World Government had wanted Tracy Industries for their reputation for excellence and security, the TI Board wanted it, and most importantly John wanted it.

Scott tried not to think about the fact that his brother was likely to include a backdoor to the system.

But Scott had been convinced that it was in the best interests of all involved to take the project on, and he had gone to Norway to meet the key personnel and personally take receipt of the plans. TI facilities would produce the various key components and they would be shipped to Tracy Island for construction by one Hiram K. Hackenbacker

Scott sighed, even Brains had been excited by the prospect of getting to look at the designs, and the attendant programming that the hardware would be running. Something about the specifications for the “new ‘unbreakable’ encryption protocols”, and “the next major breakthrough in computing, practically quantum!”

Scott was worried that the two – three if Alan inserted himself into the mix – computer nerds would back-engineer the TOP SECRET computer and incorporate it into International Rescue’s equipment.

When – and Scott was not an optimist when it came to this sort of things, so it was when and not if – the rest of the world figured out that they had that technology, there would be some uncomfortable questions that Scott would be left to try to answer.

And he was resolutely NOT thinking about what Eos could do with all that processing power. Scott had reached a truce with the Space Monitor’s pet AI, but he hadn’t made peace with it … her. She had come dangerously close to killing John, ‘misunderstanding’ or not, ‘self-defence’ or not.

Harming his family was the one sin Scott Tracy could not forgive.

The next hour or so disappeared quietly as Scott brooded on his misgivings, carefully watched the plane’s gauges, and the sky.

Sometime after the onboard computer indicated that it had successfully completed its mandatory handshake with Chinese Air Control Scott stretched, arching his back and spreading his toes within the confines of his shoes. Flying alone was great for relaxation, flying alone long distances however … no matter how good the autopilot, a good pilot never left the controls unmanned.

Tracy One, while fast, was no Thunderbird One. I’m getting soft, Scott thought bemused. Too used to the multiple mach speed of his usual means of transportation.

Settling back into his seat, Scott once more scanned the gauges … only to see them all fade out as the engines whined their rollback to idle and shutdown.

Scott swore, unbelieving, hands once more on the controls, as he quickly hit two buttons, setting his transponder to squawk distress mode, and deploying the RAT, a small drop down wind turbine that dropped from the planes undercarriage and caught the airflow, generating enough power to get some gauges and controls working.

Fingers automatically worked at the controls, reconfigure for maximum glide, run through the midair engine restart procedure. And …

Nothing.

As Scott immediately recommenced the restart, he was on the radio: “Mayday, Mayday, Maday. This is November Tango India Zero One Charlie. Twin engine roll back, loss of power. Attempting restarts. Requesting assistance to squawk location.”

No response. Scott cycled through another engine restart attempt as he waited, nervously watching the altitude numbers seemingly freefall. There was no way he was descending that fast, surely?

Two more attempts at transmitting the mayday resulted in silence. The engines refused to restart.

Scott reached for his collar and swore. The meeting had been so high security even IR’s integrated collar coms were not allowed. And Scott had been in such a hurry to get back to the Island that he hadn’t changed his clothes, only ditching the ordinary – albeit obscenely expensive – coat, suit jacket, tie and cufflinks.

No direct link home. No mid-air rescue for Scott Tracy.

No matter. He could manage.

Abandoning his attempts to restart as the altitude numbers screamed down under the threshold.

His plane was going to kiss dirt. All he could do was make it as gentle as possible.

Scott switched his attention to scanning the ground below him, looking for a suitable space. Thank god he had elected to fly west towards home, meaning he was over the Gobi Desert.

Sand was preferable to water, no matter what Gordon said.

Sand would make for a nice soft runway, provided Scott managed a tail-first. Letting a leading edge dig in would be a disaster. Even with the International Rescue approved safety features retrofitted to the standard executive jet, there wouldn’t be much for his brothers to recover if she dug in and flipped, or windmilled around a wing.

“Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. November Tango India Zero One Charlie. Restart negative. Unpowered landing necessary. Requesting immediate assistance to squawk location.”

Scott breathed carefully, focusing on his search and not the possibilities.

There!

Off in the distance Scott spotted a level area, large enough for the plane to coast to a stop on her belly.

He breathed out, mentally calculated the distance and descent, and carefully reconfigured the plane, setting the ailerons and stomping on the rudder to bring her tail around into the head wind and shed speed: side-slipping. He gently slewed her back the other way, ensuring she maintained the correct heading, but shedding altitude and speed.

This was a dangerous aerial ballet. More so than any dogfight he had been in during his service. One wrong move …

Scott’s hands were sweating on the control yoke. His heartbeat deafened him.

Oh, there was going to be so many lost of control drills for his brothers in the future. It had been too long since they had run any.

His luck held all the way down.

He managed to line up to the long axis of the space, and his tail kissed sand at the edge of the smooth space.

Metal screamed as sand ripped at the undercarriage as Scott gently lowered the length of the plane onto the dirt, and deployed all flaps and slats, increasing the resistance to the air, even as the sand resisted the movement of the hull.

And Scott became a passenger.

He kept his feet at the rudder pedals, trying to keep the plane moving in a straight line. Yaw risked rolling. But it was largely a futile effort, the path was set, determined by physics, geology and … geography!

Scott’s heart leapt into his throat as the plane hurled itself over the top of a rising dune that had been hidden by his approach angle. It was a significant drop down the other side, and the plane had lost enough momentum that it had little aerodynamic power.

The nose fell, and Scott heard yelling.

It took the eternity the plane was falling to realise that it must be him.

Impact was hard.

Metal screamed as sections of the cockpit rushed towards him, dislodged and distorted.

Something above him broke loose, swinging down into his field of vision.

It was the last thing Scott saw.

Notes:

This is Part One of my last Febuwhump Prompt from MariaShades, Part Two will actually address the prompt, but work's been mental, and Scott's been a little shit and really didn't want to crash his plane ... Oh well, better late than never.

And if I post this half, I'll stop faffing around with it and actually write the second half. In theory.

#thunderbirds are go #fanfic #my fanfic #scott tracy #febuwhump2024 #better late than never #plane crash

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easternmind · 7 months

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TRIPITAKA - the lost spiritual sequel to Cosmology of Kyoto was found

This post is a compilation of a series of tweets I have composed over a period of weeks during this summer.

For years, it was uncertain whether TRIPITAKA 玄奘三蔵求法の旅, by Soft Edge, had in fact ever been published. I remind the more absent-minded readers that this is the studio responsible for the mythical CD-ROM Cosmology of Kyoto, originally released in Japan in 1993, later published in the United States by Yano Electric in 1995. Knowledge of this their second and final production comes solely from the online CVs of producers Hiroshi Ōnishi and Mori Kōichi. No other information could be found online, and no actual copy of the game was known to exist.

Earlier this year, this disc surfaced at Yahoo Auctions. It sold for nearly $300 after 24 bids.

As suggested by its tile, which translates to Xuanzang Sanzo's Dharma-Seeking Journey, it was always assumed that the game illustrated episodes of the life of the celebrated Chinese Buddhist monk, particularly his 7th century pilgrimage to India. The captures printed on the back not only show a character highly reminiscent of the ancient scholar, they depict a variety of scenes taking place in China and India.

According to the severely incomplete archived version of PD Inc's website, the Japanese publisher responsible for this digipack, it was available for sale at museums hosting the 1999 Silk Road Journey To The West exhibition, which suitably matches the date printed on the back cover. However, this date presents yet another open question, as the Ōnishi-San and Kōichi-San bios both list it as a 1995 production.

The technical specifications may provide an enlightening clue, as they refer to Windows 95, 640x480px resolution and an 8-Bit color mode. This indicates that TRIPITAKA was indeed developed sometime between 1993 and 1995, although it was never published in the CD-ROM game circuit, certainly not in the immediate years after its development was completed. Combined with the data retrieved from the publisher's website, the edition shown here appears to have been produced solely for the occasion, as a means to diversify the museum shop catalog for this major exhibit, given the shared theme.

It would have been nearly impossible, had the program been in fact published in 1995, for a single copy to not have been spotted or mentioned online by the many Japanese collectors who have attempted to locate it for decades, unsuccessfully. On the other hand, a CD-ROM that was sold at a museum exhibit is likely to be purchased by visitors who were entirely unaware of the item's relevance as an elusive multimedia gem.

If a tangent is permitted here, both productions are inextricably linked with the museum space, and as far as I can speculate, Cosmology of Kyoto was, itself, also published with the intention of being made available in gallery stores in addition to computer game retailers. I say this because this was a production made possible by collaborative efforts including a variety of Japanese museums, to the extent these are referenced by name in the game's credits.

Considering the price at which the item was sold at auction, I was fairly certain that it was purchased by one such video game collector who knew exactly what they were bidding for. Later in July, I was able to locate the buyer and establish contact. Initially, the buyer was only able to produce this screenshot of the disc program launcher. The title reads "Cosmology of Asia", validating the claims that Soft Edge was in effect planning for series of edutainment software prior to its demise in the mid-90s.

In my second contact with the owner, I asked if he was available to produce a disc image and share it online for purposes of software preservation. The owner politely declined, stating that this was not something he was willing to do but offered to record the following gameplay video instead.

youtube

At a glance, the art style of Tripitaka is unsurprisingly similar to that of Cosmology. Most of its episodes occur during the day, whereas the latter was mostly played under the dark cover of night. The first scene depicts a dying Xuanzang reminiscing on his journeys in the company of a young chronicler. Structurally, both games are also nearly indistinguishable from one another, producing ample historical information for context, including detailed maps and chronologies.

TRIPITAKA was considered to be lost media for decades. As such, the importance of this footage could hardly be overstated. I would not hesitate to compare this development to the unearthing of Osamu Sato's Chu-Teng, the Eastern Mind sequel that was also deemed lost for many years, miraculously found during the time this blog was inactive.

I am delighted to have played a minor role in the unraveling of this thirty year old mystery, and can hardly contain my enthusiasm, as I now find myself equipped with sufficient information to produce a full post concerning a game about which I could not have written more than a sentence, just last year.

I would also like to thank the author of the @mendelpalace Tumblr for his timely alert regarding the Yahoo listing.

#tripitaka #soft edge #lost media #cosmology of kyoto #Xuanzang #buddhism #Youtube #TRIPITAKA 玄奘三蔵求法の旅

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xenosaurus · 9 days

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i love them so fucking much hhhhh. go fuck them greys up, ur doing amazing sweethearts. how do the rutatarri relate to the humans? like whats the political and interspecies relationships there. generally whats up with humans. do the rutatarri have any cultural opinions on inter species relationships? i imagine with the pheromone thing itd be complicated. do the matriarical neighbours support them? whats the allience? between them look like? luv ur writing byeee

Earth is the most recent Grey target, with humans having previously only been kidnapped in small numbers for scientific study. First contact with the Rutatarri was established to warn humanity of the threat, and to invite them to a number of defense projects. It’s very recent, but the free communication project has already programmed English and Chinese into the auto-translators.

The other main force opposing the greys are commonly just called squids by humans, they’re matriarchal amphibious beings with major sexual dimorphism. The males are much smaller than the females, and have such a different body plan that uninitiated humans tend to think they’re different species.

The alliance between the two species is a powerful one, as they have a shared enemy at the moment. It was rockier prior to the greys trying to get their fingers in everything, but as they have drastically different ideas of what qualifies as a good place to live, they don’t fight over colony space or off-planet resources too much.

For inter species relationships, I’m not sure if you mean generally social or romantic? I’m happy to ramble more either way lol

#original stuff

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necros-writing-stuff · 6 months

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Foxes and Minxes: Collabo'ween Day 21

GN!AFAB!Reader/M!Teacher!Bailey

Warnings: Me being very British with everything referenced here (sorry); Alcohol; Gloryhole; Hints of Yandere Reader; References to bullying; Condoms; Bailey POV and he feeling guilty; Only pronouns for reader are they/you.

Word Count: 4010

Notes: This is the telepathy mixed with teacher prompt! Bailey is not the telepathic one, though, and I kept it subtle methinks. It's also just fun to think of where Bailey might have ended up if he hadn't become the caretaker.

His paycheck is late. Again. Leighton has been holed up in his office all day yelling at delinquents, telling Bailey to come back later every time he'd popped his head in. The first round of students had set a bin on fire in the cafeteria. The second had been encouraging someone to moon passing cars at the gates. The third had popped River's tires.

Sure, the kids here were usually shitheads, but to this level? It had to have something to do with graduation coming soon - they were all in their final year of Sixth Form afterall. Most of them being 18, but not fully grasping that they were adults yet and that they could be arrested for what they had been up to.

Some of them were in his class: economics. Or rather, missing from his class today. They'd been put in the isolation room to write out lines at desks with screens on them so they couldn't talk to each other. Bailey had been in there once or twice as a kid, hell, Winter had been the one to put him in there a few times. Strange that they were now colleagues. Strange that Winter hadn't applied to be head of the school (or at least deputy) after all these years.

As it was, with the shitheads mostly missing, his class was quiet. Sixth Form classes were smaller than the secondary education classes, the other teachers who had to handle both levels had it worse. Typically UK schools have all of the desks pushed into larger tables to facilitate group work and to make larger use of the room's space, but with how bad the students are here all of the desks had to be separated to discourage certain behaviours.

Right up front was his favourite. A shy kid, huddled up with their notebook. He couldn't tell whether or not they were doing the work or absently doodling while their mind wandered. He didn't care either way. They'd finished their exams, the only reason they were still here in class was because they all had to be until they walked out with their grades or failed and were pushed out anyway. School policy. One that severely annoyed everyone who wanted a free period to wander around.

His favourite kept mostly to themself, barely interacting with the others even though they were silently chatting amongst themselves or watching the documentary he had put on to keep some of them occupied. Only educational programmings allowed. Yet another school policy. God, it was miserable here. He'd be watching Breaking Bad otherwise, all of these students had hit 18 so he wouldn't get in trouble from parents about it. But no, instead he'd had to throw on some bullshit scaremongering thing about the dangers of ecstasy pills he'd found on YouTube.

Funny thing, growth. Back when he was their age, he'd have bullied his favourite. He was as much of a little shit as the rest of them are today. Now he finds solace that at least one of them paid attention. And they'd be gone soon, replaced by another bout of insufferable 16 year olds who would be eager to push him to his limits - only to find that he knew their games and wouldn't be putting up with them. Same old song and dance every new year.

Which is why he wanted his fucking paycheck. He goes home bordering on having an aneurysm every night, the least he can have in return is his rent money. He's not late, not yet, he'd saved up enough to have reserves, but it still felt better to have it. Plus, he'd be able to get himself a takeaway tonight. That Chinese place he likes is open on a Tuesdays. Some egg fried rice, noodles, chicken curry, those salt and peppered chips. A lovely break in his recent health kick he'd been on.

Bailey sinks into his seat, sighing at the thought as he chews on a pen cap. His favourite looks up from their notebook, their eyes passing over him quickly before going back down. Not a new thing. They're a jumpy little thing like that. He'd bumped into them once and they'd whimpered as though he'd struck them. Kinda reminds him of all of those videos of foxes just squealing because they can - so he'd nicknamed them after the animal.

He's not a stranger to the signs of an abusive upbringing - the bullying couldn't have helped either. But he's not the one to offer support beyond letting them use his classroom instead of the library. They could go to Doren if they wanted a shoulder to cry on.

The bell rang then, the students mostly springing up and rushing out to head to the cafeteria. His favourite was stayed put until everyone else left.

"What you got today?" Bailey reaches under his desk, fetching a box from his bag and his homemade panini with it. Ham, lettuce, and tomatoes filled it up.

"Same as usual," you respond with a small smile. Which means…

Bailey catches the Yorkie when you throw it over to him, and in return he tosses a bag of Maltesers. That's your usual deal. You bring the Yorkie, Bailey exchanges it for whatever sweet snacks he has that day. Whichever parent it is that always packs the bars for you clearly hasn't clued in to the fact that you've grown sick of the chocolate. Luckily for you, though, Bailey could inhale a whole four-pack in ten minutes.

And with it not being a class, that also means he doesn't have to abide by the 'educational' videos only rule. At least, that's the excuse he'll tell Leighton if he's caught putting on fucking Hannibal.

But it's a nice time, eating with his favourite as they watch the show over the lunch hour. Sure beats the fucking staff rooms. Bailey might just quit if he has to hear River complain about that Whitney kid again.

It's quiet again (save the chewing), but this time it's a comfortable quiet rather than the eternally tense silence of a classroom full of kids a moment away from doing a crime to lull the boredom.

Little Foxie relaxes now that they're alone, your shoulders sloping and your eyes focused rather than shifting. Poor damn kid. But, not his circus, not his monkeys. He won't see you again after next week anyway.

"Which exam do you have left?"

"Just physics. I'm dreading it, though. Sirris kinda does best with biology, so I've had to teach myself quite a bit. Just wish Leighton would hire more teachers - Winter's started nodding off in class apparently."

Yeah, you aren't wrong there. Overworked, underpaid. And that's what separates you from the other student. That empathy you have for others. How you've held onto it for this long despite the torment of your peers never fails to amaze him.

"I'm excited to head off to uni, though. It'll be way different than here and I won't have to be around people I don't want to see." There's hope I'm your tone.

"What'd you pick again?" Bailey can barely speak intelligibly with all that chocolate stuffed in his mouth. Like he's ever been one for good manners though - and it seems to entertain you enough when you smile at him.

"I'm still not sure. Psychology's an option, but creative writing or even zoology sound cool, too."

"Zoology? Didn't know animals were your thing."

"I started thinking about that after that field trip to the forest last month. You know how Winter is trying to find all of those ruins but there's the bears and stuff that could hurt him? It would be good to work to keep people who work there safe by taking care of the animals. Oh, and the fact that they're extinct everywhere else in the UK. They're important."

Eden would disagree, but his old friend would keep to himself so long as he was left alone out there.

"That, and well… animals are honest, you know? I don't have to worry if they'll be bad like people. They'll let me know what they want, I just have to learn the body language."

Bailey snorts, finishing his Yorkie as he nods. "Aye, good point there. They say never work with kids or animals, but I used to work at the dog pound when I was your age and wrestling screaming huskies into the bath tub was easier than these lot."

You return to being pensive, head cooking to the side. "How many of them do you think will go to uni?"

How many of them will you have to avoid, you mean, judging by the nervousness that eases back into your voice.

"Not many. They'll be the better ones who do anyway."

No more chatting after that. There's not much more to say - you don't exactly go into personal stuff with your students. You've covered what was appropriate to talk about, and that was enough. That's how it always is. It's how it continues in the week to follow, until you graduate.

He'll miss you. Just a little bit. The chocolate coated apple you leave on his desk with a thank-you note with a voucher for the local Chinese place is a nice touch, too. Did he even tell you he liked that place? He can't remember, but probably.

Bailey knows why he harbours such feelings toward you. You're the kind of kid he'd hope to have if he was ever unlucky enough to spawn.

"Good luck, Foxie," he whispers to himself as he eats the apple - and what do you know - it's melted Yorkie chocolate. Maybe you should have added confectionary to your list of things to study.

A bittersweet heaviness settles in his chest, causing Bailey to rub the area as he frowns. Your note didn't have a social media handle, and now that you'd graduated you could add him on there. He'd like to keep an eye on your progress, but if you'd rather not then he understands. It's a new start for you, and he was a part of a difficult past even if he'd tried to offer safety in the storm.

He still couldn't help but feel left behind. And not for the first time, he thinks.

Dwelling on his sorrows won't do, though. It's better to get your demons out before they dig dens: so to Darryl's club it'll be tonight.

Bailey stays to fix his classroom up and get everything he needs for the summer. The kids left screaming for joy - his work hasn't stopped just because it's a holiday. He'll have to check his units and adjust all of his educational bullshit.

His flat is small, just a single bedroom and a joint kitchen and living room, but it's enough. He guesses. Bailey's younger self would kick him in the balls for ending up here instead of as some big-shot lawyer or whatever he'd had in his head back then.

Chucking his box of work shit onto his coffee table, Bailey pushes his dark hair back out of his eyes and heads to the shower. He can afford to spend half an hour in there, Leighton had sent the paycheck over. Its just what he needs, the scalding water loosening his muscles up and getting any sweat off of him from the summer heat.

The outfit he chooses to wear is simple, but it's tailored just right to make his body look it's best. Dress shirt in white, black slacks, Italian loafers, his woolen long coat. He doesn't put it on until he's eaten, though, opting to shovel pasta into his mouth with his towel around his hips.

It's still bright when he heads to the club even though the hour is late. Bailey finds himself thankful for it, the setting sun keeping some warmth as he waits for the bouncer to thin the line out and let him in.

The environment inside is energetic, music pulsing through the building as lights are focused on various dancers performing on the stages in various stages of undress. People sit around watching with drinks in one hand and money in the other, ready to throw the cash when they find a dancer that gets them going enough.

Bailey didn't bring change. Instead, he's off to the bar, taking an empty spot and ordering a whiskey. Then, he waits. Tourists come to this town for the beach (and the underground sex industry), many of them in the club tonight. Many of them good looking and looking for a fuck without ties. Luckily for one of them tonight, so is Bailey.

His eyes scan the crowd, trying to scope out some cute thing he can make eye contact with and smile at so they'll either come to him or he can go to them. Sadly, the club's occupants tonight seem to be mostly local. And he isn't paying for one of the dancers either - Bailey likes it here and he'd rather not end up banned and have to venture over to Briar's seedy little hole.

With no luck, Bailey settles for watching the dancers and listening to the conversations of groups around him for a while as he sips his drinks. Yes, multiple. If he can't fuck, he'll get a buzz and go home feeling merry at least.

That time closes in, his eyes feeling heavy before it even reaches one in the morning. Fucking hell, he's feeling his age these days. He's not fourty yet, but it's coming, and his back especially is feeling it.

Placing his latest empty glass on the bar, Bailey goes to get up when something catches his eye. Red hair, pretty face, young. Someone he doesn't recognise. He thinks. He's had enough to drink at this point that he can't see the best - but what he can see he likes.

Now it's just about getting their attention.

Another drink is ordered - this time a virgin cocktail. He's had enough alcohol, he'd like to be able to walk home without falling over. Then it's back to lounging against the bar, staring at the pretty red-head and willing them to look his way.

And willing. And willing. And… shit. Yeah, they're not interested. Plus, Bailey needs to piss.

The crowd goes up in cheers as one of the favourite dancers comes onto center stage, everyone glued to their spots as the music switches to their routine's soundtrack. It fades away as the door to the toilets swings shut behind the dark haired man. There's barely anyone else in there, and the two that are hurry to get out to watch.

Not wanting to risk having some creep take a photo of his dick while he pisses, Bailey stumbles into a stall rather than over to the urinals. He's surprised to notice a gloryhole in the side of the stall; the owners here don't like that shit happening in the open. And it's a bug fucking hole, too.

A deep sigh leaves his lungs when he relieves himself, his head falling back and his eyelids closing.

The door squeaks open, footsteps echoing as they make their way over to the stall right beside his own. Swearing under his breath, Bailey keeps an eye out for a phone coming under or above the stall. The stalls don't save you from pervs with cameras, but it does mean you can trap them in the stall and threaten them until they hand the phone over and you can delete what they took.

"Hey, sorry, I couldn't hear you out there."

Bailey's eyebrows crease as he shakes his dick and puts it away. Are they talking to him?

"Yeah, no, I'm in the bathroom now. What did you call for?"

Nope, not for him. Nice voice though, bit of an accent. Definitely not from around here. Could be his tourist.

"I- really? Really? You promised I'd be able to stay out the full night! You always do this, you always-"

Oh, yikes. Controlling partner, it sounds like. Bailey knows he should go, but to leave now while they're arguing? To interrupt it? That feels more awkward than to hide and pretend he isn't there until they leave first.

That accented voice only gets more upset, causing Bailey to cringe and hold his breath.

"No! No, I'm not doing this anymore. We're done, you fucking freak! Yeah? Yeah? Go ahead, burn my shit, like I care."

Oh, good for them, he guesses. He can still hear the tears in their voice. Tears that evolve into sobs when they hang up and, by the sound of things, sit down on the toilet seat. Time to go, Bailey thinks. He'll be really quiet about it, though.

Which he fails at. Immediately. His loafers slip against the tile and his fist flies into the wall. Bailey doesn't hurt himself, but those sobs cease immediately.

There's some flashes of movement beyond the glory hole, flashes of red hair going past while Bailey remains completely frozen.

"Are you okay in there?"

"I should be asking you the same thing," he shoots back. "But yeah, I'm good. Caught myself."

"Guy from the bar, right? You were looking at me."

Ah, so they're avoiding the question. Fair enough. He can't blame them for not wanting to tell a stranger about the partner they just broke up with.

"Yeah, sorry, didn't know you were taken." He grunts as he finally stands back up right, smoothing out his shirt and working on tucking it back in.

"Were." It's whispered, accompanied by the shuffle of clothes. He'll leave them to it, he supposes.

"I, ah. Good luck with your-"

They weren't pulling their pants down to take a piss. They were pulling them down to press their pussy against the glory hole, giving Bailey a good view of it.

"You have a condom? I'm free now so…"

Bold little minx, aren't they? Forward with what they want, but responsible enough to ask for a condom. Which Bailey would have forgotten if they hadn't mentioned.

"Yup," is all he says, the 'p' popping as his pants come down again. Fishing out the condom from his wallet, Bailey keeps the packet held between his teeth as his hands get to work. One wraps around his cock, the other pressing against their pussy and thumbing their clit.

Such a cute giggle they have, such a cute little cunt they have. Just what he needs to keep make his day after all of the goddamn stress. He's clumsy though, the drink and the two different movements of his hands making his ministrations rough. Not that the minx next door seems to mind.

He's quick to harden, ripping the condom packet open before rolling it down on himself.

"Just spit on me, I don't want to wait longer."

Fucking hell, yeah he can do that. Leaning down, Bailey rolls his tongue around in his mouth, gathering spit before drooling it all over their cunt. And he just can't resist giving it a lick when he picks up how good it smells.

They laugh again, wiggling their hips so that his tongue teases their clit for a few seconds before he pulls away. Then it's right to what they both want.

The angle is awkward, standing up so straight his back leans away from the wall as he presses himself in. Completely worth it when he feels how tight and warm it is - even around the condom they feel like heaven.

Reaching up, Bailey tightly grips the top of the stall dividing wall to keep himself steady while he pumps in and out. Nice and slow to start, nice and slow to find the angle he likes and a rhythm that makes sense. He keeps his head down, watching himself sink in. Such a good sight to commit to memory.

The minx starts whimpering, gyrating their hips to demand more from Bailey. Strange that the whimper seems familiar, flashing images of a certain fox-like ex-student through his head. And a flash of heat through his lower belly.

"Fuck," Bailey hisses, shaking his head and trying to focus on the here and now. Completely inappropriate to think of you right now. He's never thought of you that way, and he won't start now.

But then the minx whimpers again, leaving Bailey with the thought of his little Foxie bent over his desk, taking him rough and hard while they both watch the door from fear of being caught.

You're gone. He won't see you again. It's not like he'll have to look you in the eye on Monday and face the shame of having had these thoughts. What's the harm in indulging in them when they make his skin feel so aflame?

"Yes, Sir, more!"

Oh that fucking helps. Sends his mind reeling about how nice you always were, how you knew what he wanted from you whether it was your behaviour, work, or conversation. It would translate into the bedroom, Bailey knew that much. You'd be such a good little one for him, on your back with your knees held to your chest so he could get a good view of what's between your legs. What he'd be tasting, savouring.

"So good, Sir, so good," the minx whines, that one fucking title the sweet spot in it all.

Bailey snarls, pumping hard and fast right into them, right into you, his brain stuck in a world where you're in his apartment, laying in his bed and clinging tightly to him while he makes your anxiety seem out of your body with every hit against the slick, gummy walls of your sweet cunt.

It creeps up on him, electricity sparking up his spine as his balls tighten. Bailey hasn't come this close to finishing so quickly in years, a realisation that sobers him for a second. His teeth dig into his lower lip, but it doesn't slow down the building explosion that hits him.

He loses control of his hips, feeling like they're being pushed forward by an unseen force as he buries himself into the minx, spilling spurt after spurt of his seed into the condom. It drains that burst of energy he'd had, his cock slipping out of the minx as he struggles to stay standing.

"You okay in there, handsome?" There's no mocking in their voice, just amusement.

"Shit - sorry. I'll finish you off, here-"

"Nah, it's all good. My phone won't stop going off and if I don't answer that bastard really will burn my shit. I left my mother's necklace over there so I should head over."

"Don't go alone if you can help it," Bailey grunts, putting his clothes to right again and disposing of his condom in the bin. Next door, he hears the minx putting their clothes to right as well.

"Yeah, I'll grab my friend on the way out. She's probably out of money at this point anyway."

Their stall opens, footsteps heading off. Bailey isn't long behind.

Two seconds. Two seconds of seeing them clearly in the mirrors above the sink as he passes. Two seconds where he sees them fixing their hair - an obviously fake wig that he can make out clearly since the drunkenness has faded. Two seconds where he can make out their face in the bright light of the bathroom.

One extra second when you turn back, panic in your eyes at the knowledge that he'd realised who you are. The panic fades though. Instead, you're smiling in a way he's never seen you smile before. It's confident. Fox-like.

"Or maybe I'll just head back home since there's no ex-boyfriend. Could go back to yours. Bet you'd like more of a taste, Sir. I'll even hold my legs apart for you."

Bailey can't move. Can't chase after you and demand answers as you scurry off, your hips swaying in that outfit. Can't believe his cock is hardening again, and that you'd know just what he wants. Just like he'd thought you would.

Why do you always know what he wants?

#collaboween #spill my guts #necro's fics #bailey the caretaker #gn reader #afab reader #cw alcohol #yandere reader #degrees of lewdity

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theanticool · 9 days

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Libraries and Adult Lonliness

As we all know, making friends as adults is hard. And while the internet has made it easier to make friends with people around the world, actually meeting people you can meet with on a regular basis and just hang out with us tough. The common answer to meeting new people is to find people who are interested in the same stuff as you. As such, finding places to meet new people who may have similar interests to you is important. And that’s why I think the library is a great resource!

As a children’s librarian, one of the things I try to point out to parents when they come in to sign their kids up for the library is that we offer adult programs too. Obviously we have book clubs - my library has 4 different book clubs for people who read different types of books. I’ve posted about it before with knitting/crochet circles. But for people who have or want to explore different interests, and meet new people via that new interest, you may want to check your local library to see their programming. For example:

Hiking: Many libraries offer things like hiking kits. These can be things such as maps for local trails, hiking sticks, a water resistant backpack, binoculars, bird guides, and the like. But some libraries having hiking clubs, such as the Poughkeepsie Public Library Distruct in NY.

Language Learning: Many libraries have access to language learning platforms such as Rosetta Stone or Mango Languages. But many other have dedicated classes where adults can come and learn languages. If you’re in L.A. county, the public library offers classes in beginner Russian, Chinese, Korean, Italian, Armenian, etc!

Music: there are many libraries that have maker spaces where you can go and record music. There’s one in the Newark Library and at a branch of the Brooklyn library. There are also ones that allow you to check out instruments. But there are also ones where you can receive free music lessons, such as the Dallas Public Library (this program was online during the pandemic but is now also offered in person!)

youtube

I could keep going.

Singing, dancing, theater, yoga, sketch comedy, creative writing, RC Cars, foraging, cemetery tour groups, jewelry making, baking, woodworking, painting, etc. If you have a niche interest or would like to get into a niche interest, there is a chance your library has had or will have a program about it. And if you’re looking to meet new people, it is a great place to start.

#public libraries #libraries #library propaganda #Youtube

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rigelmejo · 4 months

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Some learning apps I've liked (in no patrticular order)

Renshuu (japanese): good lessons, a bit slow paced for me

Readibu (chinese reading app): free version is good, paid version includes full sentence audio and translations I think which may be useful.

Pleco (chinese dictionary and reader app): top level app, get it now if you study chinese and use your phone at all. Its free version includes a huge great dictionary, and Clipboard Reader which has ALL the Reader features just that you have to copy and paste the chinese text in (their paid Reader you can upload epub txt files etc directly). Their paid features are nice because they are all 1 time fees: pay 5 dollars once and have the purchased item forever. I hate subscriptions so i love that this app does single purchase instead. I bought some graded readers on this, and expanded dictionaries. Its Dictate Text text to speech feature is nice in the Reader/Clipboard reader because it highlights the word as it reads and shows translation, making it easy to follow along.

Duoreader: a free basic app, has a few parallel language books for many languuages. It includes text to speech audio and click word translation. Excellent for free reading with parallel text set up.

Smart Book by Kursx (also under the name Parallel Translation of books by kursx on the app store): it uses mtl, but you can search for books or import books, and it will show sentence translations or make an entire parallel text for you, it also has click translations, word saving, progress information (which is motivating to me), and text to speech read aloud function. Its currently what i use the most for reading. Trahslations are as good as Lingq or Google Translate so NOT always reliable but useable and the sentence translation helps for figuring out grammar. But Pleco and Readibu have BETTER translations. For chinese this app is good, for japanese its useable if youre upper beginner but if you dont know basic grammar and particles then the japanese individual word translations are often wrong and unreliable - sentence long translations are useable though.

Tofugu: good hanzi study app.

Anki: great app especially if you import decks made by people around the internet. I look up decks by going to a search engine and typing in something like "4000 hanzi mnemonics anki deck" or "common chinese words in sentences anki deck." I have recommended some anki decks I've used on this blog. A tip about anki: their website works fine in mobile browsers, you do not have to pay for any app to use anki on your phone, you can just use the site if you'd prefer. For initial uploads of flashcard decks created by other users, you will need to install anki on a computer, then download the anki deck from the deck's page online, then put it into your computer anki program. After you do that, you can sync your computer anki to the website one. Then you can use anki either online or on the computer or on both. I use anki only on my phone mobile browser. It seems the main benefit of anki phone apps over using the internet mobile browser, is flashcards are easier to Make if you end up wanting to make your own anki flashcards on your phone.

Immersive Chinese: chinese lessons. I haven't used it much but I like the structure

Glossika: I specifically recommend getting the old cds, possibly through your library, or finding the mp3 files online. I think the audio files are easier if youre not good at focusing on consistently doing SRS flashcards, since spaced repetition study sentences are the new glossika model and require a monthly subscription. Plus side to the new model: most languages have around 6000 sentences where the old cd courses often had around 3000 sentences. Plus side to the old cds/mp3s: can be found in many libraries for free, and online, and if you do buy them theyre a one time cost. Excellent resource if you like audio review (i do), with common grammar and vocabulary taught. I like that even the 3000 word old courses will get you at least to upper beginner or lower intermediate, enough knowledge to start learning by reading or watching shows and looking words up, and enough words to have some conversations. Pimsleur is similar but tends to cover less vocabulary, so afterward you need to learn more words on your own before you can immerse and look up words to study.

Japaneseaudiolessons.com: a website with free japanese audio lessons, a free textbook, free notes. They also have nice kanji learning books with pre written mnemonics and sentence examples for sale.

Your local library: a lot of libraries have deals with language learning sites/apps, your specific library may provide some courses for free. In addition, apps Hoopla and Libby have a lot of courses and digital textbooks and audios you can check out. You can use those apps with a library card. If you are a college student, a lot of college ebook collections include MANY textbooks and independent study books for languages. Nearly every Tuttle book I got for studying Japanese and Chinese, I was able to check out the ebook version first using my college library and only bought those books because I ended up finding them so useful I wanted print copies. (For that matter, some under $20 dollar reference books I owe for teaching me hanzi and kanji: Tuttle Learning Chinese Characters: HSK Levels 1-3 - this book gave me a foundation in hanzi and was the easiest guide for learning hanzi for me and learning HOW to remember them. I found it more useful than Heisig's Remember the Kanji/Hanzi books by far, although they utilize a similat idea, and less effort to remember than Kodansha Kanji Learner's Guide - although I like that reference book as a reference. Runner up is Tuttle Learn Japanese Today: The Easy Way to Learn 400 Practical Kanji by Len Walsh. It was more basic than the hanzi book, less in depth, but a very approachable understandable and quick to learn kanji book to start out with when studying Japanese, that will not overwhelm you the way say Heisig or KKLG might. For hanzi I used my Learning Chinese Characters book for a few months, then an anki deck "hanzi 2000 mnemonics pinyin" while also just regularly looking up new words while reading graded readers then chinese show subtitles then webnovels, and making up my own mnemonics which got easier over time. For japanese, I followed up with a vocabulary deck as I found vocabulary easier to remember than isolated kanji, and kanji.koohi.com was a useful site for free user submitted mnemonics to remember kanji when I struggled to remember. Its also a good site for free flashcards and study of kanji generally.

ChinesePronunciationTrainer: a really simple free app. It's biggest usefulness is practicing pronunciation. You can record yourself trying to pronounce a sentence after hearing the chinese pronunciation, then play back your recorded attempt compared to the chinese pronunciation. The app makes shadowing easier to evaluate, so you can compare and notice if you're making pronunciation errors and work on them. It's also very simple low feature speaking practice.

LingoTube: free app, uses machine translation. If you want to watch youtube with dual subtitles, or click translations on subtitles, or instant replay/loop of dialogue lines, this is an app that can do that. Very useful for immersing with youtube videos like youtubers and shows on youtube.

Idiom app: it is orange with an i on the icon. Click skip for the "helm" offer when you first download it, helm is a paid add on for better translations and you may not want it right away. The core app is free (helm add on costs a subscription). This app is basically Lingq but free. Translation quality is the same, which appears to be google translate quality on Lingq and Idiom. So some errors, but useable especially as you hit upper beginner and above and can notice when you may want to reference a word in an external dictionary (like Pleco app for chinese, yomiwa app for japanese, etc).

Satori Reader: a graded reader app for japanese, absolutely amazing quality material. I recommend exploring the free content on the app. If you decide you'll use it a lot, or plan to get into a reading kick for a few months, it's worth getting a subscription for a while. I plan to get a subscription once I have the time to read japanese 1-2 hours a day for a few months. Satori Reader has tons of reading materials branching from approachable to an upper beginner (say you can read Yostuba manga a bit, or are in Genki 2, or know around 2000 words) to you're almost ready to read webnovels or regular japanese novels but the difficulty bump is just a Touch too steep. If you go through the various reading level material on the app, you shpuld be prepared to handle at least some japanese novels for natives once you can handle some of the higher reading level stuff on Satori Reader. In addition: the translations are done by professional translators with in depth notes on grammar points (incredibly useful and the best explanations on Japanese Graded Readers Ive used), fully narrated stories by real people, and many of the graded readers are designed to be enjoyable long reading material in their own right. There's also some multiple difficulty versions of reading material if you'd like to read an easier version before trying a more complex version of the same story. There is so much reading material on the app you can get significant practice and vocabulary/grammar improvement if you have time to read. I lnow a few people who got through a few hundred+ chapters on this app, and generally they went from N4 or N3 reading level to N2 or N1. Then they transitioned to reading novels for natives. As far as high quality well made well explained plentiful graded reading material for japanese, this is one of the best resources I've found. (The other 2 great graded readers I have are textbooks, one being a Tuttle Read Japanese book that goes from basics through to being able to read 2000 kanji, newspapers and documents, formal and informal, and is dry af to read but generally leaves you fairly prepared for japanese reading, and a more basic Beginning Japanese Reading book thats part of a 4 part textbook collection and absolutely drills the basic 500 most common kanji and many words, hiragana and katakana and many words in them, for 500 or so pages).

Microsoft Edge. I know, weird. Edge on computer and mobile internet browser has a Read Aloud tool. It is the best sounding text to speech Ive heard. This Read Aloud tool is also in Microsoft Word if you copy paste text into Word. I find going to sites in my target language, and using the Read Aloud tool, is a nice way to get audio in with my reading when I can't find an audiobook. The tool also highlights the word as it reads, helping you keep up with the reading, and for me it helps improve my reading speed. In addition, ANY web browser (and any phone/tablet Reader app like Kindle, Moonreader, Kybooks etc.) often has the ability to click or tap or highlight a word to look up the translation. So when reading on any of those internet browsers/Readers, you can look up words just like you would on Lingq but free.

Japanese.io: a site with japanese graded reading material, and tools like click translation and saving words.

https://www.sosekiproject.org/about.html If you like the author Soseki, this site is awesome. It features full audio of his works, full parallel text translation, and individual word translation.

#apps #tools #resources #reference

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 1 month

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By: Alta Ifland

Published: Mar 25, 2024

Most of us have had at least once in a lifetime the experience of paradise when a place seems suddenly transfigured and elevated to an otherworldly realm. I experienced paradise in Iceland’s Reykjavik Airport in September 1991, where the plane that took me as a political refugee from Romania to the United States stopped for a couple of hours for a layover. It was the first time I had left my country of birth, and Reykjavik’s airport was my first contact with the West. I remember entering spaces that made me think of Aladdin’s cave of wonders, where under transparent glass lay mesmerizing diamond necklaces, and gorgeous saleswomen with seducing smiles inviting me to try them on; and I remember the impeccable marble-white restrooms like an alien spaceship with curious buttons I had no idea how to maneuver. Everything was clean, as if under the care of a doting fairy, and everybody smiled quietly as if life was a streak of uninterrupted joy.

I went back to Reykjavik for a literary conference twenty years later, but I could no longer find paradise. The diamond necklaces had no sparkle, Aladdin’s cave turned out to be a banal store, the women were like everywhere else, and the toilets nothing to write home about. The gap between the two experiences paralleled my first encounter with JFK Airport in New York, where—having to wait for my connecting flight to Jacksonville, Florida—I wandered for several hours among a hustle and bustle of people, stores, restaurants, buses and taxis, convinced that I was exploring the city itself. I mean, who in their right mind would imagine that they could find all of the above in an airport? It was only years later when I returned to New York that I realized that all I had seen of the city was, in fact, the airport.

These two primal encounters have left me with a lifelong love of airports, although life post-9/11 has considerably altered the experience. But the impression that our existence is made of two irreconcilable universes remained for a long time until, roughly, the advent of social media, which managed to unite the two into one indistinguishable blur and a chorus of mingled, screaming voices. Having spent my life between different worlds, I’m fascinated by the different frameworks people can place around the same events, according to the point of view given to them by their location in time and space.

As newly-arrived immigrants, my then-husband and I naturally gravitated toward other immigrants from Eastern Europe, and since they often went to church—which was, anyhow, the only socializing venue in Jacksonville (a city immortalized by Henry Miller in The Air-Conditioned Nightmare as a soul-killing locale)—we found ourselves for two years in the strange company of puritan evangelicals. After this edifying experience, my admission to an M.A. program at the University of Florida threw me into an environment that seemed completely opposite to the previous one, as if America were made of two separate worlds with two different types of people. Both types were a shock because they didn’t resemble the Americans I had known from the movies I’d seen—neither the neighbors who asked our Romanian friends to cover the non-existent breasts of their five-year-old daughter at the pool, nor my professors from the English department who joyfully professed their Communist and Marxist convictions to a roomful of sympathetic ears.

I cannot forget one professor who praised Mao’s “cultural revolution”—to this day I have no idea whether he was aware that millions had died as a result of this “revolution,” and that many Chinese in rural areas were so starved that they ate their own children.

It was clear to me that these academics knew nothing about the world I came from, which was, again, shocking, given that I knew a lot more about their world even though the country I grew up in was so isolated from the West that we used to refer to it as “outside.” I was the one who grew up in a prison, yet it was American academics who were the ignorant ones.

Growing up in Communist Romania, I read many American classics (the first book I read at eight years old was Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Tom Sawyer) and watched countless American movies. On the other hand, my American counterparts never read any books by Romanians (though I am not arrogant enough to demand that) or by Eastern Europeans generally, and rarely watched any European movies, let alone Eastern European movies. Yet these people who were clearly ignorant about my world were not shy about letting me know that what I experienced was not “real” Communism and that they—who had never set foot in a Communist country—were much better positioned to define Communism. How was that possible?

Let me tell you what nobody teaches Americans about the part of the world I come from.

For years, whenever I drove on one of America’s ten-lane highways, it felt impossible that this world existed in the same historical era as the world of my grandparents. I don’t have any photos of my paternal grandparents because in Communist Romania very few of us owned cameras. But they have remained etched in my mind in a way that makes them immortal, eternally old, as if their dark faces had always been crossed by deep ridges—the kind of faces only Indians (as we called them back then) had in black and white Hollywood movies, their feet always bare and so thick with calluses that when they washed them at night you could see the solidified dirt like mortar between brick-like layers of skin. They never used soap yet they had a drawer full of it, every single piece sent or brought by my father from the city. For them, soap was the equivalent of expensive jewelry, which Grandmother occasionally showed me, opening the drawer with pride: “See? Your father sent them. I keep them all.”

My grandparents lived in a world in which there was no money—I mean, there was no exchange of money, save for the rare occasions when Father gave them a few coins to buy bread. I remember walking with Grandfather unending kilometers through a sea of yellow corn until we reemerged in the world of the living, and Grandfather took out a handkerchief with a complicated knot that he untied to free the coins in exchange for the loaf of bread handed to him by the store clerk at the edge of the cornfield. But this type of exchange happened rarely. Usually, we ate hard polenta, the default everyday meal of Romanian peasants. We ate it either as a substitute for bread, which my grandparents usually couldn’t afford, or else as a meal immersed in a bowl of milk, one bowl for the entire table, inside of which our spoons often met, clanking.

My grandparents lived in the same way their ancestors had for generations in that part of the world: the province of Oltenia in Southern Romania. The only thing that had changed was that they were no longer periodically invaded by the Turks. The stove Grandmother used for cooking was like none other I’d seen except in films about remote indigenous populations—an oval-shaped structure of whitewashed clay set on the ground, with an opening through which one could glimpse the burning twigs, and atop, simmering pots full of aromatic dishes. In front of the stove, wearing her long Gypsy-like dress and stirring the pots, was seated Grandmother on a tiny chair, it too from a different world—about twenty inches high, with only three legs.

My grandparents’ village is where I spent my summers until I finished high school. During the school year, I lived with my parents in a small town in Transylvania in one of the countless intensely ugly Soviet-style flats. The grade school I went to was five minutes away on foot—since first grade, we all went on foot everywhere, unsupervised, and had the apartment key tied on a cord around our neck (apparently, today’s Romanians call us “the generation with the key by the neck”). Needless to say, we came back home on our own, warmed up the food prepared by our mothers, and were responsible for the supervision of our younger siblings until our parents came home from work.

My classmates were mostly children of factory workers and public office clerks; many of these parents had never finished high school and those with university diplomas were rare. Under Communism there was almost no middle class, and for a simple reason: the majority of people who had been part of it (university professors, politicians, economists, sociologists, priests, artists, writers, journalists, etc.) had been imprisoned, tortured and murdered.

Their guilt? They were all “enemies of the people,” the “people” being defined as dirt-poor peasants and what Marx called “the “proletariat.” Neither of my parents had college degrees. My father, whose parents were illiterate, never read a book; my mother, whose father was a chiabur (a farmer who paid for the sin of once owning land by spending a year in prison and having his eldest daughter refused admission to high school), used to read and over the years acquired a small library of Romanian, French, and English classics which I read dozens of times. After I finished reading our library, I began to explore the local libraries. With my best friend, whose parents were construction workers and morbid alcoholics, we took weekly trips to a library where the books were so yellowed and old they fell apart, and returned with a huge travel bag full of books. Without any guidance, we discovered many of the great classics: Sartre, Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, Cervantes, Gide, Flaubert, Zweig, Twain, Dickens—we read them all, entirely unaware that they were “great writers,” because no one had lectured us on their greatness. In our isolated world, we had a great advantage over children growing up in Western countries: we could discover the world with our own minds and in our own words.

When I say we had an “advantage,” don’t imagine that I'm glorifying the “system” in which we grew up. The world in which we were reading these books had the following characteristics: long lines to buy anything, major food items (sugar, oil, coffee, flour, butter) rationed and hard to find, hygiene products (soap, feminine products, toothpaste) entirely absent, winters without heat spent with our coats on inside our homes, electricity two hours a day, a single TV channel with most of its programs being delirious political propaganda, water cut off for days and sometimes weeks. In order to survive most city dwellers had to use the black market, where you could buy a pair of jeans for the cost of a monthly salary. For reference, my parents’ incomes combined totaled about eighty dollars per month.

In school we studied French. Without anyone’s exhortation and only the help of a dictionary, I soon began to read French classics for my own pleasure: Mérimée, Gide, Zola, Martin du Gard, Dumas, everything I could find. I was the best student in my grade in French, so I decided to major in it. In order to be admitted to college one needed to pass a very difficult exam in one’s specialty, and there were only about twenty positions for French students per university with just a handful of universities in the entire country. The majority of applicants able to pass the exam were either children of university professors or students from preparatory high schools. Given these circumstances, my teachers, neighbors, and parents all insisted that I should study engineering like everybody else and told me I was crazy to even consider French. Yet I persisted and passed the exam with the highest possible grade. While in college, during an internship where I worked as an assistant French teacher in a high school, I attended a class where the lead teacher introduced French food to the students, and after several minutes of hearing descriptions of baguettes, brie, camembert, and the like, one of them fainted. For us, this food was like fiction—not only had we never tasted it, we couldn’t even imagine that we would ever see it outside of a book. We were hungry and cold all the time, yet whenever we’d turn on the TV all we'd hear was that we lived in a “golden era”—the regime’s official language—for which we’d have to thank the Communist Party and its General Secretary, Comrade Nicolae Ceaușescu. All the country’s institutions held regular meetings where everybody, using a language of thought-terminating clichés which we called “wooden language,” had to massage the ego of the “Dear Leader” who made such an era possible. In this language, Ceaușescu was a “skilled helmsman,” a “beloved parent,” and “the exploitation of man by man” had been forever abolished.

During this "golden era” of Communism, when I was barely twenty-one, I got blacklisted as a “person very dangerous for the security of the state” because I had married a dissident. You see, in Communism, the entire family paid for the deeds of any of its members, including those of the dead ones. My husband’s main guilt was that he was the brother of a famous Romanian journalist who worked abroad for one of the Western radio stations that condemned the injustices of Communism. To understand why this was considered a crime, you need to know that the first thing Ceaușescu did every day was read a report on what had been said about him the previous day.

Since his fate was already sealed and he wasn’t even allowed to go to college, my husband and a few friends tried to create a political party that would have been an alternative to the only official one. Needless to say in a country where one in four citizens was an informant, they were quickly apprehended and subjected to harsh interrogations. This happened before my husband and I met; him being too traumatized to talk about it, I found out from his parents how he had been imprisoned and cruelly beaten. After we got married, he signed a petition demanding that the regime stop the demolition of villages and churches, a project Ceaușescu had started because he realized that the traditional rural lifestyle still gave people some independence. Consequently, Ceaușescu put us under 24-hour surveillance, with a car constantly parked in front of our building. We were young and foolish, and so we made fun of the unending series of spies who were struggling to remain inconspicuous every time we went out and they followed us. Sometimes we mocked them overtly, laughing out loud as we hopped on a bus, while they remained outside, but it was a dangerous game: you never knew when an “accident” could happen.

One afternoon, an individual in a black leather jacket got out of the car parked in front of our building while holding an envelope in his hand, entered for a few seconds, then returned with his hand empty. We didn’t keep the letter that my husband had retrieved from our mailbox because it made him so furious he tore it to pieces. The letter warned that “some people” might want to hurt me badly. The police summoned me a few days later to their headquarters for an undisclosed matter, with my husband forced to wait outside. Nothing horrible happened to me that day, save for the fact that I was asked to wait for several hours while my husband remained outside, not knowing when—or if—I was going to come out. When I was finally brought into an office, the officer informed me in a performatively worried tone that “some people” wanted to hurt me, and he wanted to make me aware of this danger.

This is how we lived for about two years until the anti-Communist Revolution from December 1989 swept the dictator and his clique away.

In the first week after the dictator was killed a member of the newly formed Front of the National Salute—the revolutionary organization that replaced the Communist Party and of which my husband was briefly a member—came to our home to uninstall a microphone that the Securitate (the Secret Police) had hidden behind our bed.

It took another quarter of a century until my husband was allowed to see the file the Secret Police had on us. It contained two thousand pages of content produced through the coordinated efforts of dozens of individuals and tens of thousands of dollars spent every month on our surveillance—in a country in which the average income was forty dollars. It also included the names of the “friends" who had informed on us—some of which we’d already guessed, others, a surprise. Our Secret Police file remained open until December 1991, that is, two years after the regime had fallen, and three months after we had left the country for America.

I left the building where my parents lived almost forty years ago, but when I last visited, some of the neighbors I had growing up were still there. Imagine passing by an old man who looks twenty years older than you, and then remembering that you had a crush on him when you were twelve and he was fourteen. The grey Soviet flats have remained unchanged, but in a certain way give you the reassuring feeling that time stands still and there's a continuity between generations—something absent in ever-changing American society.

While the memory of life in the small town of my childhood is ambivalently hazy, when I remember the rural world of my grandparents a wave of nostalgia washes over me. The three-legged wobbling chairs, the haystack above the cow barn where I used to read, even the short-lived doll made of rags that a friend from across the street had taught me how to make, ephemeral as she was, is now bathed in a golden aura of longing for a lost world.

[ Photos of Alta's grandparent's home, taken during a recent visit to Romania. On the left is the cow barn where Alta used to read. ]

I sometimes look at the children of my American friends, with their room full of toys, and I know that their toys don’t make them any happier than my rag doll had made me. And I know that my American female friends, emancipated as they are from the “patriarchy,” aren’t happier than Grandmother. In all traditional societies, labor is organized according to the existence of the two sexes and this has nothing to do with anyone’s “oppression.” Men do some things, women do other things—it's simply a division of labor based on physical differences between the two, and it’s a division that can be observed across cultures and millennia. According to all statistics and their own statements, it’s obvious that many American women are in profound disharmony with themselves and the world in which they live. And this is certainly not because the world in which Grandmother lived was better—although I am wondering more and more whether it was much worse.

The first thing you need to be unhappy is to ask yourself whether you are happy or not—Unlike American women, I am convinced that this is a question Grandmother never asked herself.

Grandmother, just like her mother and her mother’s mother, lived in a way that imitated the lives of previous generations, in an entanglement with “tradition”—the dirty word that American feminists and progressives utter with so much disdain and which they translate as “oppression” and “victimization.” I often try to imagine what Grandmother would have answered had I told her that she was “oppressed” by the patriarchy in particular and society in general. I think she would have had a hard time understanding the concept. You see, it’s hard to feel “oppressed” when you have inner freedom. Aside from this, nobody in the world of my grandparents thought in these terms because in traditional societies it is shameful to be a victim. Only in a world of privilege can victimhood acquire a desirable status. I call this the law of subliminal contradiction, something I discovered by observing how Americans behave. Another example: only in a society of excess can the richest people dress in a way that imitates the homeless. In the society of poverty in which I grew up, it was shameful to wear torn-apart clothes; on the other hand, if you look at the way most well-to-do Americans are dressed today, you’d think they live on the street. Consider high fashion clothing that gives the illusion of poverty and manual labor, like mud-splashes and rips on jeans.

Today I write these lines from France, in my second exile. And many things have changed! My husband is now my ex-husband; he has returned to Romania, and I to Europe. My best friend with whom I used to explore libraries and books, and who grew up in a one-bedroom apartment with two parents, a grandmother, an older sister, and her daughter, and who at ten years old was forced by circumstances to take care of the entire household while her father lay drunk in a ditch and her mother worked on construction sites, is now a doctor and owner of a major medical lab. Unlike my American acquaintances, she never saw herself as a “victim” of anything. When I came to this country as a political refugee over thirty years ago, the thing that most impressed me about Americans was that they were very responsible and resilient. Thirty years later this country has been turned upside-down. But the truth is that the signs and the seeds of this reversal were already present thirty years ago, mostly in one particular space: academia.

The rare Marxists from back then are now the norm (although many traditional Marxists point out that, unlike American academics, Marx was never concerned with “race and gender”). They are the people who call Putin “right-wing,” as if he'd been schooled by the Republican Party rather than the Communist Party, whose Secret Police he represented as an officer of the KGB. The reason Putin is “right-wing” is because he’s a nationalist and anti-LGBT—but if these academics had read any books from my part of the world, they’d know that every single Communist country was ultra-nationalist and homophobic. In Communist Romania you could go to prison for twenty years for being a homosexual. Putin may no longer be a “Communist” because the gifts of the Capital are way too sweet, but his authoritarianism is rooted in Communism nonetheless, and his homophobia has nothing to do with being “right-wing” unless you project a Western value system onto a completely different world in which the categories of Left and Right merge.

After you’ve experienced the clichés of Communist propaganda, you can easily spot the mental structures underlying the impulse to reduce the complexity of the world down to one huge power struggle in which everybody is either an oppressor or a victim. This is why having lived through Communism has become very useful in contemporary America, and it's why the few of us who denounced the insanity of Communism when it could have cost our lives won’t keep our mouths shut now that America is losing its mind. For instance, the concept of “reparations” based on inherited collective guilt is eerily similar to the Communist practice of punishing an entire family for the deeds of any of its members, including the dead. Just like the “Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion” activists who are being paid hundreds of thousands of dollars to lecture you, the Communists created a privileged class called the “nomenklatura”—Party activists who did nothing but spread ideology and propaganda, making sure that the rest of us conformed to the official dogma. One trait of people who create dogmatic ideologies is that they never feel obligated to obey their own dogma—if they did, they would have to cancel their own privilege.

Because history is always written from one point of view, being an American academic often comes with the privilege of (re)writing history. And in an Americentric world, these academics look at everything through the lens of their own history, which they project onto everybody else. When have you ever heard academics from English departments and Women/Gender/Ethnic Studies—who have been teaching generations of students about the evils of European colonization—denounce the colonization of Eastern Europe by the Russians and by the Turks? It’s as if 500 years of history—the history of the Ottoman Empire—never existed. Or as if Russia started its colonial history with the invasion of Ukraine.

According to these academics, being European is equivalent to having a mysterious essence called “whiteness,” and I should repent for my “white privilege” and Europe’s colonial history, as if my “white” ancestors had colonized anyone and not the other way around, or as if they had enslaved “brown” Muslims and not the other way around.

Let me tell you an anecdote about how I was made to pay for my “white privilege.” You may remember the brouhaha after the poem performed by the young, black author, Amanda Gorman, at Biden’s inauguration, was commissioned to be translated into Dutch not by another black woman, but by a white person. This white person happened to be Marieke Lukas Rijneveld, who identifies as “non-binary” and is a few years older than Gorman. After a complaint that the chosen translator was not black, the translator withdrew from the project and the publisher issued a public apology—never mind that it was Gorman herself who had chosen the translator and that it’s quite likely that there aren’t many black translators who translate into Dutch and have Rijneveld’s literary skills. I know this because I had read Rijneveld’s award-winning book translated into English and recommended it on social media. When the scandal broke, many American translators—some of whom I was personally acquainted with through my work as a translator—commented on the affair online, supporting the decision to replace the white translator with a black translator. In response, I dared to share the comment of a French member of PEN, who believed that skin color should have nothing to do with who translates what. I accompanied this comment with my own: “I think that, this being a forum of translators, we should give a voice to different opinions from other languages.” I was subjected to a pile-on of virulent attacks, summoned to delete my “inflammatory” remarks, and it was made clear to me that my opinion could only be the result of my “white privilege” because I was (I'm not kidding you) a “cultural essentialist.” The cherry on top was that I was also called a “transphobe” because I had “misgendered” Rijneveld—the irony being that I was the only one in that group who had actually read and supported the “non-binary” author. I left these discussions after it was clear that I didn’t have the “revolutionary consciousness” to belong.

The fact is that nothing—and certainly not “white privilege” or any kind of “systemic” anything—is stopping anyone in America from learning languages and translating. When I was a graduate student in French at the University of Florida, my black classmate had spent time in France, just like everybody else in our program. I was the only one who had never been to France. Yet if I could learn French while believing that I would never see France because traveling to Western Europe was, for a Romanian of my station, as impossible as going to Mars, then any American—black, blue, or purple—can do it.

Privilege is a funny thing, especially in a society in which being a victim grants the highest social status. I for one prefer to assume the privilege of having experienced both Communism and life as an immigrant—a privilege America’s social justice warriors will never have—because it has taught me that you can be free under the worst dictatorship and a slave to groupthink in the freest of worlds.

#SmashCapitalism

🤡

#Alta Ifland #We The Black Sheep #communism #capitalism #smash capitalism #Marxism #late stage Marxism #Communist Party #religion is a mental illness

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