steve harrington realizing that he’s got no purpose if he’s not protecting the people he loves from outer-dimensional beings, and has a minor (read: major) spiral about it post-vecna & the party fixing everything. he’s just a regular ole 20 something with no purpose— his friends are all in school, except eddie, who managed to pick up an apprenticeship as an electrician; putting all of that wire knowledge to use (just not in cars, he hasn’t hotwired one since 1986 and he’d like to keep it that way si vous plais) and making the rich houses have even cooler guts than they deserve.
the kids end up graduating (their first tries) and heading as one little pack to the same school (don’t ask me which, i’m a college drop out) and steve, eddie, and rob end up staying just outside of indy. rob finished school early, because of course she did, and she found that she may have a knack for hanging around high schoolers, so why not teach them how to become polyglots like she is?
steve still doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing— he bartends at a little club in the gayborhood, because they went there so often that the bartenders just kind of pushed him into it, and don’t get him wrong— mixing drinks and flirting all night is super fun, but it also… is kind of depressing? even if he gets to be around people like him and see them happy— he knows that a lot of alcohol and drugs causes that happiness and he wants so badly for his people to be out and proud and not murdered for it. but he can’t do that,, so he does the next best thing.
he talks with one of the regulars, andy, who owns a little tattoo shop on the corner, and andy invites him to come check it out. so he does the next day he’s free, and holy fucking christ. tattoos aren’t his thing— at least not on himself, but on other people they’re gorgeous. and they’re painful, but you’re turning the pain into art and you get to live with it in your skin and look at it and think about the fact that you’re here and you made it and you fucking survived. and people purposefully put scars into their bodies? and not in the i-battled-literal-other-dimensional-beings-and-won kind of way, or the i-battled-my-personal-demons-and-won kind of way, which both are things he’s dealt with so fucking intimately— but in the i-will-decorate-this-flesh-prison-and-make-it-a-castle kind of way, and that’s fucking beautiful. queer people taking their bodies and making them into art with ink and hot metal and needles and the love that they have for each other and the passion and the fucking spite at the world that keeps them going and making their presences KNOWN.
and maybe he gets some piercings while he’s there— it’s fascinating and feels so weird and freeing when the needle punctures his flesh and the jewelry goes in— and now he’s got a shiny little ring hanging through his earlobe; his nostril; his lip.
he learns that piercings take time and effort and care and that he has to treat himself with love to be able to heal— and that he is deserving of that love and care and dedication, especially from himself.
he keeps going back, maybe not always to get stabbed, but to watch others have it done. to see how different people’s anatomy takes different piercings, how he can’t have a piercing through his cheeks because he bites them too much when he’s anxious, but the girl that just left got both of hers done and they looked good. they fit her face, like little shiny dimples.
eventually, the piercer, killie, asks steve when he’s going to help them with their needles and their piercings— and he doesn’t know how to react because he hadn’t even thought about it and yet… maybe he could help other people fall in love with themselves and their bodies and help turn them into art one day
maybe he could be a pretty boy with his scars and his metal and his missing chunks and his polos and his jeans and his sneakers.
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How many holes does a straw have?
@i-send-you-random-asks
(asking you specifically cause i think you'd have an interesting answer)
Ohhh, yes, this is my question! Thank you, dear!
Short answer:
That depends on your definition of 'hole'. Topology says 1.
Long answer:
Since this depends on your definition of hole, I can think of 5 answers that can be rationalised and make some flavour of sense:
(@marvellouspinecone helped me with some of these a while back and might have additional info, so I am going to credit her here.)
0 holes
You can define a hole as something that makes an object broken, or at least as something you have to put into a finished object AFTER construction. This could be something like a tear in the fabric or a hole you have drilled into the 'wall' of the straw. Ergo, a functioning straw does not have any holes. It looks exactly as it was designed to be.
1 hole
This is the math answer. As said in the infamous post, a straw is 'topologically equivalent' to a torus. To be precise, it is homotopic to a torus.
First question: What is a torus?
Answer: Basically a donut. It looks like this:
[ID: image of a torus. It looks like a donut with a checkered surface. end ID]
Second question: What does 'homotopic' mean?
Answer: This is where it gets math-y technical, but in a way it means that we can continuously transform either of the objects into the other - in a nice way.
Imagine, our straw was made of super-clay: we can't rip it or glue it together at any point, but we can pull and push it together however we like, even changing its density. So we could stretch some parts to become very big and shrink others a lot. We can also bend and twist it a little.
So, we take our straw and we push it together in the direction of its length until the very long straw becomes short like a ring. And then we pull on the 'walls' to make them nice and fat and round. Tada! We have made a donut!
(We can do this in the other direction, too, pull the torus (donut) out long and then make the walls thin - then we get a straw.)
The thing about such homotopies is, they preserve the number of holes an object has. Hence, the straw has exactly as many holes as the torus (donut)!
Third question: How many holes does a torus have?
Answer: In topology, we have something called the Euler characteristic. It is a number that gets assigned to surfaces based on their properties (you can calculate it via triangulation but let's not go there.) A sphere (ball) has Euler characteristic 2. Each hole in a surface lowers the Euler characteristic by 2. The torus (is an orientable surface and) has Euler characteristic 0, so it has one hole.
(If you'd like to have the more exact explanation, it is attaching handles to a surface that reduce the Euler characteristic by 2 and add a hole. And a torus is homotopic to a sphere with one handle attached.)
Thus, a straw has one hole.
2 holes
If we define a hole as an indentation in an object that allows us (or something else) to enter a certain distance into the object, a straw has two holes. One on the top and one on the bottom.
This definition actually makes sense, since we call holes we dig into the Earth 'holes'. In the mathematic sense, they aren't, they're indentations that can (with the super clay idea) be flattened out. But with these holes we don't care about whether it will lead somewhere or just have a floor somewhere at the bottom, you can go in, so it's a hole.
If we forget about the fact that the straw leads 'one hole into the other', so like, if we were very small (or the straw very big) and we would merely walk across the outside and look into the holes, we would find two holes on the straw, one on the bottom, one on the top. If we don't enter, we wouldn't even know they were connected.
With this definition you have to be a little bit careful about when you start calling something a hole. I would reckon there needs to be a certain percentage-relation between depth of hole vs circumference of entrance to hole before you call it such. And maybe also something about size and shape and sharpness of edge - like, you wouldn't call a valley a hole, probably? But like, the straw fulfils the requirements of this hole easily, and twice.
3 holes
Okay, this one is merely for fun and play, don't get mad at me. But, say we define a hole kinda like above, as an entrance to the inside of an object. And we further define hole as any way through an object. Then we end up with something I like to call a 'hole-interval' through the straw.
So, we have one hole (rim at the top) to get into the straw, one hole (the straw, basically) to get through the straw and a third whole (rim at the bottom) to get out of the straw.
This is nonsense, obviously, but I like it, because there is a very nice mathematical feeling to it, resembling a closed interval. A closed interval [a, b] is just one object, but it has three parts that are often regarded independently of the others: the open interval (a, b) in the middle and the edge points {a} and {b}. For example, if you were to test the continuity of a function, you would often regard these three cases separately. So, in a way, there is beauty in regarding the 'three holes' of the straw as separate as well.
Infinitely many holes
This one is kinda nonsense as well, but I like the implications. If we define a hole as any instance of an object that is part of a tunnel through the object - I am using the word 'tunnel' here because actually, that tunnel would be the one hole in this case but for the sake of the definition, it can't be - then a straw is an infinite number of holes, stacked on top of each other. It is important to notice here that a hole cannot possibly have any depth in this case, just like the top and bottom holes in the last case.
This leads to two likely interpretations:
A) We have a hole at any real number (if we consider the straw as an interval along its length again). Then the straw would be made from uncountably infinitely many holes - which I think is an awesome concept.
B) We have a hole at any rational number. This would only give us a countably infinite number of holes in the straw and since Q is dense in R (don't worry about what that means), it would LOOK like the whole straw is made of holes, when in reality most of the straw would actually NOT HAVE ANY holes in it. Now isn't that the best thing you have heard all day?
And the best part : By this definition, not only would any straw be made of infinitely many holes, but any object with a hole in it would have infinitely many holes in it. Remember, for this to make sense, we needed to have holes with 0 depth. But any hole in reality has some depth. Punch a hole into a piece of paper: BAM infinitely many holes stacked on top of each other! :D
What have we learnt?
The most likely answers are 1 hole or 2 holes, depending on whether you take a more mathematical or more language-oriented approach. I think those were the two opinions most vocal in the original post as well.
But if you want to have fun, you can come up with very nice concepts and definitions to count holes by that give you a range of correct answers. Just make sure to think of the implications :)
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