I was asked privately, I thought I'd answer publicly.
Things are better than usual. There's no immediate catastrophe, at least none that I know of.
The down side of that is that it makes the longer term things more visible. Not having, "I need to use X money to avert Y catastrophe," means I ask, "How can I best put this money to use?" which leads to calculations, honest assessments, and a conclusion of, "Even though in the short term I'm ok, things are still pretty well fucked in the long term."
So it's like, "I'm good, really. I'm good. I'm doomed, but it's a way better doomed than I usually am."
And that's how I'm doing.
Wednesday, February 17, 2016
"Your [attribute] lover" (Making fun of Narnia)
[Originally posted at Ana Mardoll's Ramblings.]
[In HHB Edumund says, "this dark-faced lover of yours" which is tied up in all kinds of racism. But even setting that aside, and setting a side the "this {} of yours" I had a question.]
Also, is it particularly common to say, "Your [attribute] lover" instead of, you know, his name, or "That guy" or something?
"So you gonna marry your ginger lover?"
"I don't know, are you going to propose to your curly haired one?"
"Actually I was thinking that the one with the green eyes might be my best bet."
"Which one with the green eyes?"
"You know, my freckled concubine."
"I suppose that's not a bad match..."
"Look, I'll support whatever you decide for yourself, but I think your lover with the long fingers is way better than the red head."
"No love for the short one?"
"I mean, I guess the short one is ok, but if you're thinking of the short one, why not your pale faced lover?"
"If you're gonna go there I have to ask, why not your concubine with the heterochromia iridum?"
"She's great in a lot of ways, but honestly I'm not even sure why you went there. The arm-haired concubine outclasses her point for point."
And so forth.
[In HHB Edumund says, "this dark-faced lover of yours" which is tied up in all kinds of racism. But even setting that aside, and setting a side the "this {} of yours" I had a question.]
Also, is it particularly common to say, "Your [attribute] lover" instead of, you know, his name, or "That guy" or something?
- - -
"So you gonna marry your ginger lover?"
"I don't know, are you going to propose to your curly haired one?"
"Actually I was thinking that the one with the green eyes might be my best bet."
"Which one with the green eyes?"
"You know, my freckled concubine."
"I suppose that's not a bad match..."
"Look, I'll support whatever you decide for yourself, but I think your lover with the long fingers is way better than the red head."
"No love for the short one?"
"I mean, I guess the short one is ok, but if you're thinking of the short one, why not your pale faced lover?"
"If you're gonna go there I have to ask, why not your concubine with the heterochromia iridum?"
"She's great in a lot of ways, but honestly I'm not even sure why you went there. The arm-haired concubine outclasses her point for point."
And so forth.
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
Exitement and disappointment in the new tiny Rubik's cubes (images)
When I saw it at a store in a mall in Massachusetts I was surprised and excited, they hadn't made these since the '80s and the company that had made them was no longer operating.
It's not uncomon to see tiny cubes in coin machines, but those things are utter crap.
[Added] I just looked up to see what the old ones are selling for now --14 to 18 dollars, it's a good buy, not because the value will go up, though be aware that the originally sold for 99 cents, but for the quality (assuming they haven't been damaged, I bought one once that looked fine on the outside but had somehow been absolutely crushed inside, it flew apart in my hands)-- and came up with a surprise.
The name "Wonderful Puzzler" is going to be introduced because it's what I thought my old tiny cube was. It's not. I remember the packaging it came in and seeing a picture of that packaging in an ebay listing came with a surprise.
It's in Wonderful Puzzler colors, it's from the Wonderful Puzzler era, and Wonderful Puzzler did make ones that size, but my tiny cube from the old days is an actual Rubik's brand one.
I didn't even know that the actual Rubik's brand made cubes in that size back then. So, every time I say "Wonderful Puzzler" for the necklace cube in the rest of the post, I was wrong. [/added]
Wonderful Puzzler (Mr. Rubik was from Hungary, then a Soviet satellite state, we respected their patent claims not in the least, tons of companies made their own version) may have been a clone making idea stealing company, but they were also a quality company. Their cubes were good and so were their mini-cubes. The 19 millimeter ones were often sold as earrings or necklaces but they were never purely ornamental nor were they mere gimmicks. They were good solid puzzles that worked just the same as the big ones because they were the big ones, scaled down to the 1/3rd length, width, and height.
Which is to say that they were a fully functional, quality, Rubik's cube that was smaller than two millimeters cubed.
Specifically they were 19mm. That size is important. That size is the size of one of the cubies on a regular cube.
Yes, I lost a sticker. One of my favorite color even. The thing could very well be older than I am, it's kind of impressive that the other 53 stickers still stay on so well.
Anyway, the point here is, you know it's the same size because of how well it fits between the top and bottom layer. If I popped out a corner cube and put that in its place you'd see that if fit perfectly there too. It would have to be a corner because the centers and edges have cutouts that are used to keep the cube from falling apart. (If you've ever wondered about the mechanism you could google it or I could do a post sometime.)
Before we get on to other things, here's the modern tiny cube joining the family:
I had meant for them all to be showing the same colors but I guess I angled the new one wrong. An interesting thing to note, which you can't see from this side, is that the regular sized cube and modern tiny one, which is an official Rubik's cube, have the same color scheme as the Wonderful Puzzler necklace cube.
This was not always so. When the Wonderful Puzzler necklace was made white opposite blue and green opposite yellow was the official Rubik's color scheme and its white opposite yellow and green opposite blue marked it as a clone.
Modern Rubik's cubes are made with clone style coloring.
Anyway, here's just the little ones:
Things to note:
Sorry it's a bit blurry/hazy, I realized way too late that I should have been using macro mode instead of trusting automatic to choose macro mode which sometimes works and sometimes...
Anyway, I didn't take the necklace off the shelf to compare sizes and then notice the difference. I noticed the difference and then took the necklace off the shelf to compare sizes.
I noticed the difference because of this:
It's not huge. But it is enough that they don't fit right. You've got to shove a bit to make it happen, the upper blue cubie of the normal cube is noticeably pushed out of place by the size of the small one.
I looked at that for a bit and concluded it was two millimeters larger clocking in at 21 millimeters.
Eventually I found the calipers and the confirmed it.
It's still nice to have the little cubes in production, and there are still a lot of things that can be done with them, but it's disappointing that the size is off what I was expecting by those two millimeters.
If I want to make a 9x9x9 cube that's exactly the same size as a traditional cube, for example, it can't use the new little cubes for parts. Making a cube where parts of it move as a 3x3x3 and parts of it move as a 9x9x9 is likewise not going to be had via combining part sizes of the two new standards.
It's not uncomon to see tiny cubes in coin machines, but those things are utter crap.
[Added] I just looked up to see what the old ones are selling for now --14 to 18 dollars, it's a good buy, not because the value will go up, though be aware that the originally sold for 99 cents, but for the quality (assuming they haven't been damaged, I bought one once that looked fine on the outside but had somehow been absolutely crushed inside, it flew apart in my hands)-- and came up with a surprise.
The name "Wonderful Puzzler" is going to be introduced because it's what I thought my old tiny cube was. It's not. I remember the packaging it came in and seeing a picture of that packaging in an ebay listing came with a surprise.
It's in Wonderful Puzzler colors, it's from the Wonderful Puzzler era, and Wonderful Puzzler did make ones that size, but my tiny cube from the old days is an actual Rubik's brand one.
I didn't even know that the actual Rubik's brand made cubes in that size back then. So, every time I say "Wonderful Puzzler" for the necklace cube in the rest of the post, I was wrong. [/added]
Wonderful Puzzler (Mr. Rubik was from Hungary, then a Soviet satellite state, we respected their patent claims not in the least, tons of companies made their own version) may have been a clone making idea stealing company, but they were also a quality company. Their cubes were good and so were their mini-cubes. The 19 millimeter ones were often sold as earrings or necklaces but they were never purely ornamental nor were they mere gimmicks. They were good solid puzzles that worked just the same as the big ones because they were the big ones, scaled down to the 1/3rd length, width, and height.
Which is to say that they were a fully functional, quality, Rubik's cube that was smaller than two millimeters cubed.
Specifically they were 19mm. That size is important. That size is the size of one of the cubies on a regular cube.
Yes, I lost a sticker. One of my favorite color even. The thing could very well be older than I am, it's kind of impressive that the other 53 stickers still stay on so well.
Anyway, the point here is, you know it's the same size because of how well it fits between the top and bottom layer. If I popped out a corner cube and put that in its place you'd see that if fit perfectly there too. It would have to be a corner because the centers and edges have cutouts that are used to keep the cube from falling apart. (If you've ever wondered about the mechanism you could google it or I could do a post sometime.)
Before we get on to other things, here's the modern tiny cube joining the family:
I had meant for them all to be showing the same colors but I guess I angled the new one wrong. An interesting thing to note, which you can't see from this side, is that the regular sized cube and modern tiny one, which is an official Rubik's cube, have the same color scheme as the Wonderful Puzzler necklace cube.
This was not always so. When the Wonderful Puzzler necklace was made white opposite blue and green opposite yellow was the official Rubik's color scheme and its white opposite yellow and green opposite blue marked it as a clone.
Modern Rubik's cubes are made with clone style coloring.
Anyway, here's just the little ones:
Things to note:
- While the Wonderful Puzzler necklace is a great puzzle, it looks worse because its stickers are a bit too big for it.
- My camera somehow made the Wonderful Puzzler's red side look orangeish but didn't do the same to the modern tiny cube's red side. (In fairness to my camera, they are different shades of red.)
- Doesn't the modern one look a bit bigger? By eyeballing it I think that the stickers on the two puzzles are about the same size but look at how much more of the necklace cube is covered by them.
Here's a look at the size difference:
Anyway, I didn't take the necklace off the shelf to compare sizes and then notice the difference. I noticed the difference and then took the necklace off the shelf to compare sizes.
I noticed the difference because of this:
It's not huge. But it is enough that they don't fit right. You've got to shove a bit to make it happen, the upper blue cubie of the normal cube is noticeably pushed out of place by the size of the small one.
I looked at that for a bit and concluded it was two millimeters larger clocking in at 21 millimeters.
Eventually I found the calipers and the confirmed it.
It's still nice to have the little cubes in production, and there are still a lot of things that can be done with them, but it's disappointing that the size is off what I was expecting by those two millimeters.
If I want to make a 9x9x9 cube that's exactly the same size as a traditional cube, for example, it can't use the new little cubes for parts. Making a cube where parts of it move as a 3x3x3 and parts of it move as a 9x9x9 is likewise not going to be had via combining part sizes of the two new standards.
Narnia: Shasta in Susan's chambers
[Originally posted at Ana Mardoll's Ramblings.]
[Immediately follows from the previous, so that's good to read first if you haven't yet. As a reminder, the apparently human Narnians mostly aren't. Gold Bow == Apollo, Gold wings == Iris, Winged clothes ==Hermes, woman with apple == Eris, and Dionysus doesn't have anything to say in this section. Pine needle hair == Tree Spirit.]
Soon they had left the crowds behind and Shasta had a new worry: he'd completely lost track of how they'd gotten here. Even if he did get away from the strange foreigners, how would he ever find the others again?
They passed through a great garden courtyard and when they entered a door on the far side the Calormene escort remained outside. Down a corridor, up some stairs, and then it seemed that as soon has Shasta's eyes had adjusted to the darker lighting of the indoors, they were in a room as bright as the open air. Before his eyes could adjust a woman hugged him, kissed his head, and then pushed him back far enough to look him in the eyes.
“Corin, how could you?” she demanded. “I thought I was your friend.”
The others had all called him “prince”; at least now he knew who they thought he was, though he'd never heard of Prince Corin and had no idea what to do with the information.
“And have you thought of what it could mean?” the woman asked. “If the crown prince of Archenland disappeared while on a journey with a king and queen of Narnia? It could be cause for war.”
“Susan,” the king said, “he hasn't said a word since we found him.”
Susan quickly looked at the king and then looked back at Shasta with worry in her eyes. “What happened to you, Corin?”
“I . . . I don't know,” Shasta said. He hadn't meant to, it had just come out.
“At least he can speak again,” the woman with the apple said. “Give the boy some time. I'm sure he'll tell us everything when he's ready.”
“Since when are you so understanding?” the woman with the golden wings asked. Then the wings started to move. Shasta was too shocked to do anything. “It's so good to be able to stretch,” the woman said. “I was holding them still for so long I felt like--”
“At least you can go outside,” one of the people in the room said. When Shasta looked at him . . . what was it? Its legs were like the hind legs of a giant goat --there was even a tail-- above that it was like a naked man, if somewhat reddish, but in its curly hair . . . there were horns.
“This is a strange land with strange people,” a large Raven said. “Why didn't Rabadash warn us that they'd be so annoyingly shocked every time they saw people who weren't human?”
“Maybe he knew that Susan wouldn't come if she knew we weren't welcome,” something with a long nose and a spiky brown and gray body said. “It would fit with his other . . . omissions.”
“Well, it's not every day that someone sees an echidna, never mind an Echidna, in Calormen,” the woman with the apple said casually as she plopped herself on a couch at the edge of the room. “I don't see why you're all so surprised; if there weren't conflict to be had I'd never have come.”
“It's fine for you,” a Mongoose said, “you can pass as human. I can't say anything outside of these walls without five people fainting, three people praying, two calling an exorcist, and another seven assuming I'm part of some cheap ventriloquist act.”
“Enough, everyone,” the goat-man-thing said. “I take it the search went well, King Edmund, given how quickly you found him.”
“Well, it's hard to search without looking like you're searching, Tumnus,” Edmund said. “I think we moved so slowly that everyone with business in the city must hate us by now.”
“We found the kid,” the woman with the apple said. “Quit complaining.”
“He's your king,” the Raven said. “You should show some respect.”
“I'm a god,” the woman said. “I'll respect whom I choose.”
“She was actually surprisingly helpful,” the man with the golden bow said.
Most of the occupants of the room looked like they found that hard to believe.
“Screwing up everyone's day by slowly wandering through the city and obstructing traffic must have put her in a good mood,” the man with the winged hat said.
“No doubt,” the woman with the wings said.
“We probably should have just had the locals search for him,” the Echidna said. “It is their city.”
“No,” Susan said. “Even if this place were what we'd expected, it still wouldn't be in Narnia's best interest to admit that we'd misplaced a prince. Looking incompetent in a foreign capital is not good for diplomacy.”
“Especially if you really are being incompetent,” the woman with the apple said.
“Especially then,” Susan said.
“I hate it when you agree with me,” the woman with the apple said. “It takes all the fun out of it.”
Susan just smiled at her.
“I'll clean up the young prince and get him cooled off,” the goat-man-thing --Tumnus-- said.
Shasta just let himself be led away by Tumnus. He'd seen and heard too much to process and was barely even thinking at this point.
In another room Tumnus gently cleaned Shasta's face. Then Tumnus started to pull at Shasta's clothing and, when Shasta realized that he was preparing to remove it, Shasta shook his head. Tumnus mumbled something, all Shasta could make out were the words, “you humans,” and left Shasta's clothes alone. He left Shasta's clothes on, and proceeded to clean Shasta's arms and and feet.
As Tumnus washed the grime out of Shasta's hair he said, “You can't just run away, young prince, but other than needing to keep you with us until we return you to your home, I hope you realize that none of us would do anything to you that you didn't want. You're safe here.
Tumnus gave Shasta some cold food of a type he'd never tasted before, and cool water to drink.
Finally Shasta was able to think. These were obviously Narnians. That meant that the king and queen of Narnia --brother and sister, how did that work?-- were right here in the other room. Maybe he and the others didn't have to make it to Narnia. Maybe if he could bring the others to these people they could go back to Narnia in their company.
No. It was too much of a risk. They were obviously here as guests --why would they upset the Calormenes by aiding in Aravis' escape? The others were safer the further they were from scrutiny. Likewise, he'd be safer if he either convinced these people he wasn't Prince Corin of Archenland --provided he could do it in a way that let him go free-- or slipped away before the real prince showed up.
Still, the one who told him to play along had said she was a god --and no one disagreed-- and if he stayed with them for a little while maybe these people would feed him. Also, he wouldn't be able to get away when they'd just caught him and thought he'd already run away once. For now he'd watch, try to learn what he could, and be ready to run if a chance presented itself.
When Tumnus led Shasta back into the large room the others were in the middle of a discussion. “We've been here for three weeks,” Edmund said. “In that time I think I've learned all I care to about this place.”
“And I've done all that I think I can,” Susan said. “Not enough but--”
“We didn't come here to set up an escape route for slaves, Majesty,” the Echidna said. “There was only so much we could do.”
Escape route for slaves? Maybe Shasta could tell the truth. Not the whole truth, of course. He'd leave out Bree and Aravis and Hwin and the donkey. But maybe if he told them he was a runaway slave they'd let him go instead of returning him to slavery.
“No, we didn't,” Susan said. “When he was a guest in our land Rabadash seemed a just and kind person. I never expected how he treats his own people. The fact that there would be slavery here . . . it just never occurred to me.”
Edmund smirked, “So I take it you're not going to accept his marriage proposal?”
Susan laughed.
“As I recall,” the woman with the pine needle hair said, “she's had offers from kings who were more moral, more powerful, and better looking.”
“If we're agreed that it's time to go,” Edmund said, “then it's time to talk about how we go. I fear it may not be as easy as it was to come.”
[Immediately follows from the previous, so that's good to read first if you haven't yet. As a reminder, the apparently human Narnians mostly aren't. Gold Bow == Apollo, Gold wings == Iris, Winged clothes ==Hermes, woman with apple == Eris, and Dionysus doesn't have anything to say in this section. Pine needle hair == Tree Spirit.]
Soon they had left the crowds behind and Shasta had a new worry: he'd completely lost track of how they'd gotten here. Even if he did get away from the strange foreigners, how would he ever find the others again?
They passed through a great garden courtyard and when they entered a door on the far side the Calormene escort remained outside. Down a corridor, up some stairs, and then it seemed that as soon has Shasta's eyes had adjusted to the darker lighting of the indoors, they were in a room as bright as the open air. Before his eyes could adjust a woman hugged him, kissed his head, and then pushed him back far enough to look him in the eyes.
“Corin, how could you?” she demanded. “I thought I was your friend.”
The others had all called him “prince”; at least now he knew who they thought he was, though he'd never heard of Prince Corin and had no idea what to do with the information.
“And have you thought of what it could mean?” the woman asked. “If the crown prince of Archenland disappeared while on a journey with a king and queen of Narnia? It could be cause for war.”
“Susan,” the king said, “he hasn't said a word since we found him.”
Susan quickly looked at the king and then looked back at Shasta with worry in her eyes. “What happened to you, Corin?”
“I . . . I don't know,” Shasta said. He hadn't meant to, it had just come out.
“At least he can speak again,” the woman with the apple said. “Give the boy some time. I'm sure he'll tell us everything when he's ready.”
“Since when are you so understanding?” the woman with the golden wings asked. Then the wings started to move. Shasta was too shocked to do anything. “It's so good to be able to stretch,” the woman said. “I was holding them still for so long I felt like--”
“At least you can go outside,” one of the people in the room said. When Shasta looked at him . . . what was it? Its legs were like the hind legs of a giant goat --there was even a tail-- above that it was like a naked man, if somewhat reddish, but in its curly hair . . . there were horns.
“This is a strange land with strange people,” a large Raven said. “Why didn't Rabadash warn us that they'd be so annoyingly shocked every time they saw people who weren't human?”
“Maybe he knew that Susan wouldn't come if she knew we weren't welcome,” something with a long nose and a spiky brown and gray body said. “It would fit with his other . . . omissions.”
“Well, it's not every day that someone sees an echidna, never mind an Echidna, in Calormen,” the woman with the apple said casually as she plopped herself on a couch at the edge of the room. “I don't see why you're all so surprised; if there weren't conflict to be had I'd never have come.”
“It's fine for you,” a Mongoose said, “you can pass as human. I can't say anything outside of these walls without five people fainting, three people praying, two calling an exorcist, and another seven assuming I'm part of some cheap ventriloquist act.”
“Enough, everyone,” the goat-man-thing said. “I take it the search went well, King Edmund, given how quickly you found him.”
“Well, it's hard to search without looking like you're searching, Tumnus,” Edmund said. “I think we moved so slowly that everyone with business in the city must hate us by now.”
“We found the kid,” the woman with the apple said. “Quit complaining.”
“He's your king,” the Raven said. “You should show some respect.”
“I'm a god,” the woman said. “I'll respect whom I choose.”
“She was actually surprisingly helpful,” the man with the golden bow said.
Most of the occupants of the room looked like they found that hard to believe.
“Screwing up everyone's day by slowly wandering through the city and obstructing traffic must have put her in a good mood,” the man with the winged hat said.
“No doubt,” the woman with the wings said.
“We probably should have just had the locals search for him,” the Echidna said. “It is their city.”
“No,” Susan said. “Even if this place were what we'd expected, it still wouldn't be in Narnia's best interest to admit that we'd misplaced a prince. Looking incompetent in a foreign capital is not good for diplomacy.”
“Especially if you really are being incompetent,” the woman with the apple said.
“Especially then,” Susan said.
“I hate it when you agree with me,” the woman with the apple said. “It takes all the fun out of it.”
Susan just smiled at her.
“I'll clean up the young prince and get him cooled off,” the goat-man-thing --Tumnus-- said.
Shasta just let himself be led away by Tumnus. He'd seen and heard too much to process and was barely even thinking at this point.
In another room Tumnus gently cleaned Shasta's face. Then Tumnus started to pull at Shasta's clothing and, when Shasta realized that he was preparing to remove it, Shasta shook his head. Tumnus mumbled something, all Shasta could make out were the words, “you humans,” and left Shasta's clothes alone. He left Shasta's clothes on, and proceeded to clean Shasta's arms and and feet.
As Tumnus washed the grime out of Shasta's hair he said, “You can't just run away, young prince, but other than needing to keep you with us until we return you to your home, I hope you realize that none of us would do anything to you that you didn't want. You're safe here.
Tumnus gave Shasta some cold food of a type he'd never tasted before, and cool water to drink.
Finally Shasta was able to think. These were obviously Narnians. That meant that the king and queen of Narnia --brother and sister, how did that work?-- were right here in the other room. Maybe he and the others didn't have to make it to Narnia. Maybe if he could bring the others to these people they could go back to Narnia in their company.
No. It was too much of a risk. They were obviously here as guests --why would they upset the Calormenes by aiding in Aravis' escape? The others were safer the further they were from scrutiny. Likewise, he'd be safer if he either convinced these people he wasn't Prince Corin of Archenland --provided he could do it in a way that let him go free-- or slipped away before the real prince showed up.
Still, the one who told him to play along had said she was a god --and no one disagreed-- and if he stayed with them for a little while maybe these people would feed him. Also, he wouldn't be able to get away when they'd just caught him and thought he'd already run away once. For now he'd watch, try to learn what he could, and be ready to run if a chance presented itself.
When Tumnus led Shasta back into the large room the others were in the middle of a discussion. “We've been here for three weeks,” Edmund said. “In that time I think I've learned all I care to about this place.”
“And I've done all that I think I can,” Susan said. “Not enough but--”
“We didn't come here to set up an escape route for slaves, Majesty,” the Echidna said. “There was only so much we could do.”
Escape route for slaves? Maybe Shasta could tell the truth. Not the whole truth, of course. He'd leave out Bree and Aravis and Hwin and the donkey. But maybe if he told them he was a runaway slave they'd let him go instead of returning him to slavery.
“No, we didn't,” Susan said. “When he was a guest in our land Rabadash seemed a just and kind person. I never expected how he treats his own people. The fact that there would be slavery here . . . it just never occurred to me.”
Edmund smirked, “So I take it you're not going to accept his marriage proposal?”
Susan laughed.
“As I recall,” the woman with the pine needle hair said, “she's had offers from kings who were more moral, more powerful, and better looking.”
“If we're agreed that it's time to go,” Edmund said, “then it's time to talk about how we go. I fear it may not be as easy as it was to come.”
Monday, February 15, 2016
Monthly fundraising post
Short version of this post: Did you know you can donate money to me? Because you totally can. There's a donate button in the top righthand corner of the page or if you'd me to get every penny you spend and are willing to do a bit more work, send it via paypal manually using my email address: cpw (at) maine (dot) rr (dot) com.
-
Longer version
No immediate crisis, Yay! But I just did a tally of the high interest debt I have. Only the ungodly high interest debt. That comes out to $9,011.51
It's daunting. Right now I have cash on hand and I don't even know what to do with it. Given, you know, ungodly high interest, theoritically the best thing to do is spend it all paying down that debt. But then what happens in the future? It might be better to use it to instead try to fill in the $200 dollars I fall further behind every month. It would do less good in terms of dollars then, but it would buy me more time.
Anyway, that's where money stands this month. No crisis that has me in a panic, just the giant looming mass of debt.
If you'd like to do something to help and have the means, by all means send some money my way, but if you'd rather not I totally understand.
-
Longer version
No immediate crisis, Yay! But I just did a tally of the high interest debt I have. Only the ungodly high interest debt. That comes out to $9,011.51
It's daunting. Right now I have cash on hand and I don't even know what to do with it. Given, you know, ungodly high interest, theoritically the best thing to do is spend it all paying down that debt. But then what happens in the future? It might be better to use it to instead try to fill in the $200 dollars I fall further behind every month. It would do less good in terms of dollars then, but it would buy me more time.
Anyway, that's where money stands this month. No crisis that has me in a panic, just the giant looming mass of debt.
If you'd like to do something to help and have the means, by all means send some money my way, but if you'd rather not I totally understand.
Narnia: Shasta is captured by the Narnians
[Originally posted at Ana Mardoll's Ramblings.]
[Lewis has the Narnian delegation out in public be mostly human looking, though one of the descriptions implies Hermes, which would make sense because gods and spirits are the only human looking people, other than the rulers, in Narnia at this point in the timeline.]
There were about a dozen people, and they were unlike any that Shasta had ever seen. Their skin was light, but not the unhealthy paleness of slaves who had worked underground for long periods and seldom seen the sun.
All were on foot --there was no litter-- and they walked with a relaxed inefficiency, a swing in in their steps and looseness in their shoulders and arms. Rather than acting serious and formal, as the other highborn parties had, these foreigners were casually chatting with each other, some even laughing, as they walked. One was whistling. Though they weren't mixing with the crowd, they somehow exuded a sense of friendliness, as if the only thing stopping them from chatting and laughing with any peasant there was that the Calormene escort leading them through the city kept all the locals at a distance.
Those who wore swords at their sides had them in straight scabbards, ones that would be impossible to use for holding a Calormene scimitar. Most wore tunics, which were dyed in various bright colors: greens yellows and blues. The men didn't wear turbans and the women lacked the scarves most Calormene women wore.
One of the men, the only blonde of the group, wore a circle of leaves on his head and instead of a sword he was armed with a gilded bow. Another man had a winged cap and winged sandals and carried an ornate carved staff made to appear as if it had two snakes wrapped around it and wings of its own. This man was talking to a woman who had a similar staff; Shasta barely noticed her features because she appeared to have golden wings. The wings were so realistic that Shasta almost believed he could see the gold feathers move --the way real feathers of real wings would-- when the woman walked.
Another of the woman repeatedly tossed and caught a golden apple --Shasta had little experience with gold, but he knew enough of its value to be impressed by how these people seemed to use it for frivolous things-- while speaking to a man with a staff covered in vines and leaves and topped with a great pine cone.
One of the women's hair had been formed into small short spikes that were dyed green: they looked like pine needles.
As he looked at this strange group Shasta found himself glad that he'd been shoved to the front of the crowd, for he felt that he'd never seen anything more lovely in his life.
That changed in an instant when the woman with the apple looked straight at him. She smiled at Shasta then said to the leader of the group, “Isn't that the boy?” while pointing at him.
Shasta wanted to disappear. Why would the foreigners know about, or care about, a runaway slave? He tried to push back into the crowd, but someone behind him responded by shoving him forward.
The leader looked at Shasta closely for a few moments then said, “It is him.” Then the leader turned to the woman with the apple and said to her, “Thank you; he's disguised himself well. I'd never have recognized him on my own.”
“Helping out is why I'm here,” the woman said.
There was obviously some joke because half of the party suddenly seemed to be trying very hard not to laugh; the leader didn't seem to notice, he returned his attention to Shasta.
“Where have you been?” he asked. “Why did you run away? My sister's been crying because of you.” The last comment was said with such force Shasta felt like he'd been struck.
Shasta would have run away --tried to find Bree or Aravis or Hwin-- but the leader grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the center of the group.
He was now very, very confused. What was worse, he knew he couldn't tell the truth --that he wasn't whoever they were looking for-- without putting the others at risk. None of his practiced lies would work either. They'd always assumed that they'd be able to stick together, so every lie assumed that he was with a girl, two horses, and a donkey.
For the first time since running away, Shasta was on his own. He'd need to think up new lies --ones that fit being a lone boy... ones that wouldn't draw attention to the others, wherever they were.
Bree would want to head on to Narnia. He'd say that it was better for three of them to escape (he never thought of the donkey) than all of them to be caught. Hwin and Aravis might wait for him, Shasta thought. If they didn't, at least he knew they'd take care of the donkey.
Really, Shasta thought, this might not be that bad. They just thought he was someone else; they didn't know he was a criminal. Maybe when whoever they thought he was actually showed up, they'd just let him go. He just needed to figure out the right lies.
“He wouldn't have gone to such trouble to disguise himself if he'd planned on coming back to us,” the leader said to the group. “We'll have to keep a close watch on him from now on.” Then the leader said to one of the men, “Peridan, tell our escort that we want to return to my sis-- High Queen Susan immediately.”
Soon the party was heading in a new direction, with Shasta in the center of it. The leader's grip on his wrist wasn't tight or painful, but it was strong enough that Shasta doubted he could break it and flee.
The leader kept asking questions, and Shasta needed more time to figure out the right lies. If he said he was really a slave, he'd be returned to his master. That would lead to problems since he didn't have a master to claim and without the horses and donkey the story about being sent on a long trip wouldn't be believable.
Finally the leader said, “Look, I understand wanting to get away. I never asked to be king, and you never asked to be prince--”
Shasta didn't try to hide his surprise.
“You're a very good actor,” the king said, “and you've managed an impressive disguise in a single night, but you can't change your face. No amount of dirt or cutting of hair can hide your bones, prince.
“And I don't think you realize what danger you've put yourself in. What if you had been taken for the slave you've made yourself look like? You might have been declared a runaway and hauled to some prison or brought to an auction. This place isn't like your home --or mine.
“If something's happened that made you feel your were better off running away, I wish you'd have told us. I have the power to offer asylum, you know.”
Still, Shasta said nothing. He wished the king would be silent so he could have time to think of the right story to get away from these people. Instead things just seemed to be getting worse and worse.
If he told them the truth, he'd return to slavery. If he played along, then when the real prince showed up . . . how was one punished for impersonating royalty? It probably wasn't good.
“When we're safely in our own chambers,” the king said, “I hope that you'll at least tell us what happened that made you unwilling to speak in public.”
The woman with the apple whispered, “Just go with it,” in Shasta's ear.
Note that I took Lewis' implication of Hermes and ran with it. Apollo has a golden bow, Hermes has got the winged clothes and caduceus (winged staff wrapped in snakes), golden winged Iris also has a caduceus, Eris has her apple, and she's chatting it up with Dionysus who is rocking the thyrsos.
Random woman with pine needle hair is a tree spirit.
Note that the mistaken identity thing is all Eris's doing.
[Lewis has the Narnian delegation out in public be mostly human looking, though one of the descriptions implies Hermes, which would make sense because gods and spirits are the only human looking people, other than the rulers, in Narnia at this point in the timeline.]
There were about a dozen people, and they were unlike any that Shasta had ever seen. Their skin was light, but not the unhealthy paleness of slaves who had worked underground for long periods and seldom seen the sun.
All were on foot --there was no litter-- and they walked with a relaxed inefficiency, a swing in in their steps and looseness in their shoulders and arms. Rather than acting serious and formal, as the other highborn parties had, these foreigners were casually chatting with each other, some even laughing, as they walked. One was whistling. Though they weren't mixing with the crowd, they somehow exuded a sense of friendliness, as if the only thing stopping them from chatting and laughing with any peasant there was that the Calormene escort leading them through the city kept all the locals at a distance.
Those who wore swords at their sides had them in straight scabbards, ones that would be impossible to use for holding a Calormene scimitar. Most wore tunics, which were dyed in various bright colors: greens yellows and blues. The men didn't wear turbans and the women lacked the scarves most Calormene women wore.
One of the men, the only blonde of the group, wore a circle of leaves on his head and instead of a sword he was armed with a gilded bow. Another man had a winged cap and winged sandals and carried an ornate carved staff made to appear as if it had two snakes wrapped around it and wings of its own. This man was talking to a woman who had a similar staff; Shasta barely noticed her features because she appeared to have golden wings. The wings were so realistic that Shasta almost believed he could see the gold feathers move --the way real feathers of real wings would-- when the woman walked.
Another of the woman repeatedly tossed and caught a golden apple --Shasta had little experience with gold, but he knew enough of its value to be impressed by how these people seemed to use it for frivolous things-- while speaking to a man with a staff covered in vines and leaves and topped with a great pine cone.
One of the women's hair had been formed into small short spikes that were dyed green: they looked like pine needles.
As he looked at this strange group Shasta found himself glad that he'd been shoved to the front of the crowd, for he felt that he'd never seen anything more lovely in his life.
That changed in an instant when the woman with the apple looked straight at him. She smiled at Shasta then said to the leader of the group, “Isn't that the boy?” while pointing at him.
Shasta wanted to disappear. Why would the foreigners know about, or care about, a runaway slave? He tried to push back into the crowd, but someone behind him responded by shoving him forward.
The leader looked at Shasta closely for a few moments then said, “It is him.” Then the leader turned to the woman with the apple and said to her, “Thank you; he's disguised himself well. I'd never have recognized him on my own.”
“Helping out is why I'm here,” the woman said.
There was obviously some joke because half of the party suddenly seemed to be trying very hard not to laugh; the leader didn't seem to notice, he returned his attention to Shasta.
“Where have you been?” he asked. “Why did you run away? My sister's been crying because of you.” The last comment was said with such force Shasta felt like he'd been struck.
Shasta would have run away --tried to find Bree or Aravis or Hwin-- but the leader grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the center of the group.
He was now very, very confused. What was worse, he knew he couldn't tell the truth --that he wasn't whoever they were looking for-- without putting the others at risk. None of his practiced lies would work either. They'd always assumed that they'd be able to stick together, so every lie assumed that he was with a girl, two horses, and a donkey.
For the first time since running away, Shasta was on his own. He'd need to think up new lies --ones that fit being a lone boy... ones that wouldn't draw attention to the others, wherever they were.
Bree would want to head on to Narnia. He'd say that it was better for three of them to escape (he never thought of the donkey) than all of them to be caught. Hwin and Aravis might wait for him, Shasta thought. If they didn't, at least he knew they'd take care of the donkey.
Really, Shasta thought, this might not be that bad. They just thought he was someone else; they didn't know he was a criminal. Maybe when whoever they thought he was actually showed up, they'd just let him go. He just needed to figure out the right lies.
“He wouldn't have gone to such trouble to disguise himself if he'd planned on coming back to us,” the leader said to the group. “We'll have to keep a close watch on him from now on.” Then the leader said to one of the men, “Peridan, tell our escort that we want to return to my sis-- High Queen Susan immediately.”
Soon the party was heading in a new direction, with Shasta in the center of it. The leader's grip on his wrist wasn't tight or painful, but it was strong enough that Shasta doubted he could break it and flee.
The leader kept asking questions, and Shasta needed more time to figure out the right lies. If he said he was really a slave, he'd be returned to his master. That would lead to problems since he didn't have a master to claim and without the horses and donkey the story about being sent on a long trip wouldn't be believable.
Finally the leader said, “Look, I understand wanting to get away. I never asked to be king, and you never asked to be prince--”
Shasta didn't try to hide his surprise.
“You're a very good actor,” the king said, “and you've managed an impressive disguise in a single night, but you can't change your face. No amount of dirt or cutting of hair can hide your bones, prince.
“And I don't think you realize what danger you've put yourself in. What if you had been taken for the slave you've made yourself look like? You might have been declared a runaway and hauled to some prison or brought to an auction. This place isn't like your home --or mine.
“If something's happened that made you feel your were better off running away, I wish you'd have told us. I have the power to offer asylum, you know.”
Still, Shasta said nothing. He wished the king would be silent so he could have time to think of the right story to get away from these people. Instead things just seemed to be getting worse and worse.
If he told them the truth, he'd return to slavery. If he played along, then when the real prince showed up . . . how was one punished for impersonating royalty? It probably wasn't good.
“When we're safely in our own chambers,” the king said, “I hope that you'll at least tell us what happened that made you unwilling to speak in public.”
The woman with the apple whispered, “Just go with it,” in Shasta's ear.
-
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Note that I took Lewis' implication of Hermes and ran with it. Apollo has a golden bow, Hermes has got the winged clothes and caduceus (winged staff wrapped in snakes), golden winged Iris also has a caduceus, Eris has her apple, and she's chatting it up with Dionysus who is rocking the thyrsos.
Random woman with pine needle hair is a tree spirit.
Note that the mistaken identity thing is all Eris's doing.
Thursday, February 11, 2016
What does justice mean?
It's a serious question.
When there is oppression, for example, is justice bringing down the oppressors, raising up the oppressed, or some combination of the two?
We can, broadly speaking, look at two competing ideals.
When there is oppression, for example, is justice bringing down the oppressors, raising up the oppressed, or some combination of the two?
We can, broadly speaking, look at two competing ideals.
- Victim centered Justice is about helping those who were wronged and working toward making things right for them.
- Victimizer centered Justice is about punishing those who do wrong and making them pay for what they've made wrong.
In reality these two things tend to mix, but separating them out is useful because it allows us to look at some serious fault lines in society.
Victim centered Justice doesn't comprehend the idea of a victimless crime. If there's no victim then there's no injustice so why the fuck is it a crime? Well, a crime that is incidentally victimless computes. We can look at traffic laws and see an example of the reasoning: "Driving like that could kill someone so making it illegal, even when no one gets hurt, is about preventing people from becoming victims, which is a just goal." It's when a crime is victimless in its essence that victim centered justice throws a divide by cheese error.
"This person did X thing," the law says, "Who did it hurt?" victim centered Justice asks. "Well, themselves basically," the law responds while scratching its head and wondering why it has to answer such a question. "Oh, so they're the victim, what are we going to do to help them?" victim centered Justice asks. "No, they're the bad guys. They broke the law. We're going to throw them in jail," the law responds while wondering what the fuck is wrong with victim centered Justice. "How will that help?" victim centered Justice asks.
And that this point an exasperated law gets into the need to enforce rules and how their punishment will serve to deter other people from breaking the law.
Such reasoning isn't quite beyond the scope of victim centered Justice which will allow that keeping murderers off the streets will reduce the potential for people to become future victims and understand that deterring people from becoming victimizers in general will likewise reduce the incidence of people becoming victims, but it still doesn't really work out.
If doing drugs, for example, hurts you then victim centered Justice says that we should be trying to help you (free rehab, counseling, whatever!) and if anyone is punished it definitely shouldn't be you because you're the victim. If anyone is going to be punished it's probably someone at a remove, someone who contributed to your victimization without themselves becoming victims of it. Your dealer perhaps.
(Interlude to note that that last thing doesn't actually work. It was essentially the problem of prohibition. It was illegal to import, make, or sell alcohol, but not to drink it, meaning the users were completely free from fear of legal reprisal and thus leading to a vast market for the dealers to tap.)
Victimizer centered morality has no problem with any of this. Find the person who did wrong. Punish them. End of story. These people broke the law without hurting anyone? So what? They broke the law so we punish them.
There seems to be a very basic, deeply embedded, drive toward this way of thinking. Bring the bad guys down. The movie The Deep Blue Sea had to be rewritten because test audiences were pissed that the person whose unethical science led to all the deaths, and whose callous disregard for human life lead to trying to use those deaths to justify inexcusable actions, lived. This character was, above and beyond the genetically engineered sharks, responsible for all the bad. The character had to be brought down. The character had to die.
It's what leads to "They got away with it," being said with horror or disgust.
It's the allure of an action movie: these are the people responsible, punch them, shoot them, or blow them up. We'll cheer.
It's the case for Hell, "They escaped any punishment in this world, in a just universe they must be punished in the next."
It's the drive toward punishment over rehabilitation. Justice isn't about making sure that they don't make victims of new people in the future, it's about making sure they pay for the bad shit they've already done.
And it has its own massive holes.
I'm not talking about the fact that any moral system rooted in a desire for vengeance will lead to seriously fucked up things, though it will. I'm talking about how Victimizer centered Justice doesn't have any response for victimizerless crimes.
Flint was poisoned, but unless we find someone cackling about how they did great evil while twirling a mustache, it doesn't have a clear victimizer. Don't get me wrong, manslaughter charges are possible and that should please victim centered Justice and victimizer centered Justice alike. The first because a strong response reduces the chances it will happen again (though we all know it will) the second because we get to see the bad guys brought down.
But who are the bad guys?
The Michigan Department of Environmental Quality seems a good target. They violated regulations and lied to the EPA to cover it up. They took too few samples, took them in the wrong places, did it in the wrong way, and still their work would have brought attention to the fucking disaster that was Flint if not for the fact that they threw out two samples with the result that their conclusion changed from just above the panic line to just below it.
Then again, what about the EPA? It's their damned job to make sure the Michigan DEQ is doing its job and instead they trusted those lying bastards. Doesn't that make them responsible?
What about the city, the county, the state, the governor? When samples were collected properly the people of Flint proved to anyone who would listen that the place was killing them. No one listened. It was so much easier to listen to the DEQ saying, "Nothing is wrong here."
What about Darnell Earley who decided to switch the source of Flint's water to the deathtrap water? He did it for spurious reasons that don't hold up to scrutiny. Seems like the bad guy. Well if he's to blame then it must be the governor's fault because the governor is the one who installed Earley as someone whose power trumped democracy which is what allowed Earley to do stupid things that the people of Flint could have told him were unsafe and shortsighted.
What about all of the officials who let a local GM plant switch away from the death water (it was corroding the equipment) but forced the people to still drink it? Of course they were still listening to the EPA which made the mistake of trusting the DEQ which was itself just a group of incompetents trying to get by with their limited resources, which were making things difficult. For all of the damaging bullshit that the DEQ did, even if they'd been acting perfectly they didn't have the necessary information to do the job right. They could have done the job close enough and sounded the warning bells immediately, but it was impossible for them to do it right.
So, who do you punish? The governor, the state, the county, the city, the DEQ, the EPA, and Earley, and so forth are all to blame. Do we throw the entire government of Michigan in jail along with the EPA, all of the officials in Genesee County, all the officials in Flint, and so forth?
If your morality is centered on punishing the bad guy then this situation is extremely complex and difficult.
On the other hand, victim centered Justice knows exactly what to do. We investigate who fucked up what and what their culpability was and what lines were crossed which eventually leads to incitements and trials, yes, but before any of that we fucking help the people of Flint.
There is no safe level of lead exposure. Unlike many horrible things even a tiny amount will fuck you up tremendously. Given that even a tiny amount is catastrophic, the fact that the lead levels in the water were the highest the lead experts had seen in their entire quarter century long careers is really fucking bad.
These people were hurt, they need help.
Victim centered morality has a clear response and direction.
Victimizer centered morality doesn't know what to do until we've gone through the involved process of who knew what and when, who screwed up, who covered up, who was innocently but destructively wrong, who ...
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Flint may not be the best example. Consider murder on the one hand and other forms of preventable death on the other.
In victimizer centered Justice these two things are completely different. The first has a murderer, a person to be punished. The second does not. Thus if someone is murdered this is a Justice issue which means we have a moral obligation to do something about it. If someone starves then, unless there was someone stealing their food every time they tried to eat, there's no bad guy to punish. No victimizer means that victimizer centered Justice doesn't see this as a Justice issue, and thus there's no moral obligation to do anything.
In victim centered Justice these are variations on the same thing. How we respond to them will be different (you don't reduce murder using the same methods one would use to reduce hunger) but both things have victims and thus they're both issues of Justice and there is a moral obligation to respond to both.
Victimizer centered Justice has no response to systemic problems unless it tries to punish the system itself which ... how would you even?
"Capitalism, you have caused people to starve when there was adequate food, for this you are being given a prison term of twenty five to life," doesn't seem like a viable option.
Victim centered Justice says that we have to respond whether or not there is a clear bad guy. People are going hungry, that's bad, we are morally obligated to try to do something about that. Sure, no one gets punished, but Justice, in this model, is not about punishment. It's about protection.
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For the past 40 years or so abortion has dominated moral debate in my country and the two sides have tended to talk past each other. It also happens to be what got me thinking about this today.
Certainly part of the lack of connection is that it's hard to engage with people who think you're a baby killer who is worse than Hitler, but hard is not the same as impossible.
When engagement takes place there tend to still be massive disconnects.
"If you're really against abortion, why don't you implement policies that reduce the number of abortions?" One side asks.
Or, for the giant conversation bomb:
"If the unborn are people then miscarriage is killing more people than abortion by really fucking massive margins. Why aren't you working to stop miscarriage even harder than you're working to stop abortion?"
"If the unborn are people then miscarriage is killing more people than abortion by really fucking massive margins. Why aren't you working to stop miscarriage even harder than you're working to stop abortion?"
And the response that tends to come back is complete confusion over how the questioner has totally missed the point.
Justice is about punishing the wrongdoers. If there are no baby killers, then there are no wrongdoers which means that Justice isn't in play.
Miscarriage is unfortunate, but it's not a moral issue because there's no one killing the babies. Reducing abortion may be a laudable secondary goal, but the moral issue revolves around punishment and until we get the punishment in the other stuff is on hold.
Stopping the "baby killers" isn't about saving the "babies" (quotes because I don't hold to the belief that a zygote is a baby) it's about punishing the "baby killers". Reducing abortions through non-punishment means, reducing the loss of the unborn via miscarriage, these things don't punish the "baby killers".
Justice is thus not done, and therefore it isn't a moral issue.
We're left with one side looking at it from a victim centered view, the other seeing it from a victimizer centerd view, and the two sides comprehending each other not.
And that's before we get into issues of gender, race, class, religion, and political expediency.
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Even within the United States, it must be said, there are pro life advocates who take a victim centered view of the issue. They are not, however, a majority.
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