don't know where, don't know when

Well, there's something wrong with the comments here ("no one, including me, can leave any"), and after fucking with it in every way I could think of for hours on multiple occasions, I just turned the fucking things off and disappeared the link. One day I'll come back & try again, but not today.

I was going to close this blog — posting has always been way less than I wanted — but then, eh. Seems dramatic. I'll post. Someday. Don't cry, she said, laughing carelessly, her ribboned hat blowing in the chilly breeze wafting off the... moors?

I've been Redditing, which: Yes. Everyone on Reddit is a fatphobe. Only 93% of them are transphobes. If I'm ever tempted to succumb to the comforting belief that men are 1.) significantly different from women, or 2.) prone, for some dark genetic reason, to bigotry and irrational aggression, I just hop over to r/gendercritical and read as much as I can before my face melts. Jesus Christ, those people. You could do a search & replace with "woman" and "gamer" in 88% of those posts and lose nothing (except lunch, and who needs lunch; you can always get another lunch).

Speaking of which: My least favorite part of Reddit bigotry is the relatively new, condescending Concern Troll tone adopted by so many assy posters. It definitely isn't that fat people (fat women, mostly) are failing to adhere to random pointless norms which Reddit has decided to personally police in unison, because the decay of standards when it comes to female attractiveness can lead to such horrors as... uh. It's that everyone is super-concerned with fat women, whose lives are irreparably harmed by depression and datelessness and an inability to ride unicycles (!!!), because Reddit loves too much, and too deeply. Why would you choose to be fat and depressed, when you could be wasting every micro-calorie attempting to conform to prevailing weird racist standards of commercial beauty? Eh, fat women? I once attempted to explain to a Reddit macule that the presence of "depression" in a likely post subject doesn't have meaning as a metric when it comes to who's allowed online; if we're depriving the depressed of representation for their own good, then there should be no more women online period (women are more prone to depression than men) (wives and mothers are even more prone to depression than regular women, I guess, so no mommy blogs either), no black or brown people (I love that in this study the scientists attempted to control for "unhealthy behaviors," which didn't seem to factor into any other depression studies), no gay people, no gamers (sedentary people are far more prone to depression than the anthropomorphized hamsters who voluntarily jog every day for no reason) (okay, you get one), no disabled people — in fact, the only non-depressed people fit to be depicted in pixels are straight cis white men who do [*WHATEVER THE CROSSFIT OF NOW IS*]. Best not interrogate that conclusion in any way; facts don't care about your feelings, sweaty.

I am obligated to maintain a particular level of fitness and "health" for medical reasons, and it tears my ass daily. I've been fat, on multiple occasions. I don't remember becoming public property on any of them. The obsession on the internet with women's bodies — with Other people's bodies in general — is medieval. Reddit is a cybernetic upgrade, though; I'm sure they'd burn us if they could.

But. In other, less agonizing news, I went back to Tumblring, if you too would like to Tumbl (there are fewer regular people post-Porn Purge, so it's slower but slightly more fun). I closed my old Twitter account, because I didn't actually have many followers/mutuals that I liked & all I was doing was getting into political arguments with total morons or getting hit on by weirdos. I have an alt, still. Don't know if I'm gonna use it.

We'll meet again, stranger. I'm sure of it.

of things unknown (but longed for still)

EDIT: Fixed a duplicated link & added a new Jordan Peterson fandom article. Because who doesn't want to read more things about Jordan Peterson's Svengaliesqe hold on White North America's precious reserve of pathetic male morons?

I made a new layout! Sort of! I bought a background at CreativeMarket & stuck a rabbit on it in PS — but Blogger destroyed its children's-book majesty by reducing its resolution, and now it looks like a bunch of wavy blobs on a fuzzy dark blue background. Obviously Blogger is trying to make me give up my love affair with the elderly LJ-style old-timey c. 2008 layouts and choose one of the new ones. YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO TRY HARDER THAN THAT, BLOGGER.

Actually, no it isn't. I'll pick one of the new ones later. I tried them a few months ago & thought they were fine, but also felt they encouraged a surfeit of image posts. Maybe I can make something work for my hectic "once every eighteen months" posting schedule.

I was going to write about Jordan Peterson, last night. Does anybody need me to write about Jordan Peterson? Everybody's writing about Jordan Peterson. He's a brainless prick who makes millions of dollars every year off other, even more brainless pricks. Peterson hates transpeople. He seems suspiciously jealous of housewives. His primary contributions to the Principles of Western Thought are: 1.) women are best served by being receptacles for men's penises and feelings, and 2.) (white) men built the world and deserve to be the exclusive beneficiaries of its wealth & wonders. I think those are very odd concepts to carry into the marketplace: "Hey, gals, queers, and brown people, why not participate in your own oppression? Things would go so much more smoothly that way! Everyone would be so much happier! Especially straight white men, who of course are the only group that in congregation amount to "everybody.'" Then again, I don't make $100K a month in donations from butthurt social media trolls who yearn for the state of holy matrimony so they can have someone to officially oppress, so maybe no one should listen to me.

The thing that really bothers me about Jordan Peterson — aside from the fact that he lives at the top of the slipperiest slope in the Whole Universe, at the bottom of which lies Death — is that he doesn't seem to have any command of the material he's claimed authority over, and nobody cares. He's like the Dan Brown of mythography. He's much, much worse than Dan Brown, actually, who embodied the sacred blood of the Living Lord in the person of a female cryptographer. That's not nothing. That's letting your little light shine, is what that is. I apologize to Dan Brown (although the attempt to use the female body as the unsullied seat of holiness is neither a feminist nor a novel practice; but I really do appreciate the effort). Peterson despises "postmodernism," and blames it for unlawfully shaking the monkeytree of white male privilege — but postmodernist deconstruction is the only lens through which his viciously absurd characterizations of world myth could actually work. "Superordinate" mythological artifacts, bro? Where the fuck did they come from?

Peterson thinks "chaos" is female, and that order & hierarchy are male. What the fuck does that even mean? When he refers to some property or group of properties as "chaos," does it mean "that abundance of formless biological constituents from which life emerges, in the womb and in the wild"? Or does he mean "feminists holding signs and shouting at me"? I think that distinction could be important. I also have a problem understanding how men can qualify as agents of order when Peterson also believes they have to be coaxed out of committing violence by having continual legal access to women's slimy untrustworthy vaginas at all times. Despite their innate competence and command of order, apparently, men are not fully in control of their thoughts, emotions, and behaviors. They are, you might say, not as fully human as women, whose natural impulse is to tame our innate chaos and become silent supportive infant-fondling agreeable housewives. Now, I’m no professor, but even in its deformed native context that shit looks like it’s exactly ass-backwards.

It’s magical thinking of the most objectionably fanfictional order to suggest that any group of people embody chaos as a function of biology, of course, but if we’ve absolutely got to do it, the only choice for the job is men. Women’s bodies operate like clockwork. We are attuned to the moon and the tides. When we’re healthy, we work as well as a calendar — a decaying and artificial construct men devised to count the days we mark naturally with our bodies. Our wombs are advanced ecosystems that are so stable they can (and do) grow people. Men, on the other hand, are an ad hoc arrangement of hormones and impulses; there's no male birth control available because male bodies don't operate in regular, predictable cycles. Men are agents of violence and destruction. Men are incapable of avoiding physical harm even when they want to; their protuberant genitalia damage vaginas even during consensual sex. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Jordan Peterson.

I'm in my feelings, a little. I don't actually think men are innately chaotic, of course. I don't think women are sacred microcosms of the planet. I don't think men and women are even fundamentally (or practically) different, to be honest. I do think that if enough men insist on making women their enemies, we will have no choice but to destroy them. 😘

Here are some other people who have written about Jordan Peterson, professionally and/or humorously:

• The Intellectual We Deserve @ Current Affairs, Nathan J. Robinson
• Current Affairs’ Comparative Mythology Exam @ Current Affairs, Lyta Gold (fave)
• Is Jordan Peterson The Stupid Man’s Smart Person? @ Maclean's, Tabatha Southey
• Jordan Peterson, the obscure Canadian psychologist turned right-wing celebrity, explained @ Vox, Zack Beauchamp
• Jordan Peterson, Custodian of the Patriarchy @ The NYT, Nellie Bowles
• Wonksplainer: Who Is Jordan Peterson And Why Is He The Worst? @ Wonkette, Robyn Pennacchia (h/t BBB)
• Jordan Peterson Somehow Worse Today Than Yesterday @ Wonkette, Robyn Pennacchia (h/t BBB)
• Jordan Peterson & Fascist Mysticism @ NYR Daily, Pankaj Mishra
• Reconsider the Lobster @ The Times Literary Supplement, Kate Manne
• The religious hunger that drives Jordan Peterson’s fandom @ Vox, Tara Isabella Burton (ETA)
• Two Ways Of Responding To Conservatives @ Current Affairs, Nathan J. Robinson (ETA)
• Jordan Peterson’s Flimsy Philosophy of Life @ Psychology Today, Paul Thagard (ETA)

& here are a couple of Crooked Timber posts (one of which links to Beauchamp's Vox article, and maybe also to Bowles's piece in the NYT, I can't remember). Crooked Timber is great, actually. Lots of straight white men there. Probably hardly any of them are even rapists.

sláinte

Does this terrible old-man joke ever get less funny? (No.)
The quality of the Shamrock Shake has fallen off considerably, lo these many years.
My aunt passed away early this morning.
The cat is still fine.

Pictured article.
Tomorrow, more.

i get along with starbucks lovers

What I eventually did was, I cleaned all the emotional/personal content out of both political posts and made them into one post. After I've published it, I thought I'd write all about my precious snowflake self, separately & unencumbered by any specific political association. Not that anyone cares, probably.
But I care!

I don't really care, actually, I don't know why I said that.

Now I just have to go back in and link up some sources, which is proving to be more annoying a chore than I'd imagined. My Pocket account is disorganized, and I had to buy the "Pro" level service to get in to search it properly. 🌋

I'm switching to Pinboard.

I also rehoused duskglass.net!!! It should be up and running again in a couple of days, such as it is. I plan to work on it a lot in the next few months, but I'm having a hard time finding a good place to begin. And also I can't find any of my notes. Like, any of them. Zero notes. I'll probably have to start from scratch, which is actually a good idea, because the space between my original vision of the novel and my current vision of the novel can be measured in lightyears. Lots of lightyears. Five lightyears? 288 lightyears? How long is a lightyear, again? Probably at least a couple of miles, right? I could look it up, but what fun would that be.

If you find this phenomenon peculiar, by the way, you should know that I won't stop humping Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell because it proved to be the key that eventually unlocked the door to my psychological interior, a place I was seldom able to visit pre-Uskglass, and usually only ever at painful emotional cost. Now I can go there whenever I want! Mostly I am full of pieces of old novels, a common — and empty — desire for escape, and watery-eyed rage.

I was going to call the post about white men "i've got a dank space, baby," but of course I stopped myself at the last minute, because cringe-y out-of-date puns help no one. Also, Taylor Swift's cultural capital has diminished considerably in the last year or so, and all the songs on her new album are terrible. The first one had a funny video, but the others are a nightmare. Like, in a couple of them she raps. Unironically. About her boyfriend. And all of the non-rapping singles that have been released so far have been infected with a conceptualization of The Beat that is intended to suggest, but is not directly related to, the kind of music listened to by the young (often immigrant) people of color who are authoritatively dismantling the last remnants of Traditional Western Culture™. It's horrifying. Some white pop singers can handle stuff like that, but no, wait, no they can't. Like, that Ed Sheeran song that turned out to contain a shout-out to The Golden Corral? That song is awful. And I am the sort of undemanding consumer who typically enjoys Ed Sheeran songs, especially if they are about dragons.

Do you know what else is awful? The food at Starbucks. I had never eaten at Starbucks before — my contact with them was limited to chai lattes, which I love, and their proprietary fructose-based coffee milkshakes — but I was hungry and near a Starbucks on Sunday afternoon, so I went in. The food was really, really bad. I probably should've gotten a protein bomb, or whatever the fuck they are, but instead I got the Chicken & Double-Smoked Bacon sandwich. It didn't have any of whatever kind of sauce it was supposed to have on it, the esoteric-sounding Starbucks bread tasted like the outside of a Hot Pocket, and there was a single piece of anemic bacon pressed into the top slice of bun like Boo Radley hiding behind a bedroom door. Also they were out of whoopie pies! I got a brownie, and it tasted like multigrain crackers.

Don't eat at Starbucks.

I made a graphic for this page's background based on a default Blogger graphic, but now I'm thinking about changing the blog's title. Although I like "Sea Rabbits," it is non-descriptive and whimsical. What I should really call this blog, of course, is EMMA NEVER POSTS. Or, EMMA SPENDS ALL HER FREE TIME COMPLAINING ABOUT FANTASY NOVELS INSTEAD OF JUST READING SOME OTHER KIND OF BOOK.

Oh, I got a Kobo Aura One for Christmas! Although I am (what passes for) very excited about it, I haven't opened it yet. My computer is such a mess. My books are a mess. Imposing structure on that mess is intimidating. Although I'm often an obstreperous asshole online, I am sometimes intimidated by my own messes. (I'm actually thinking of just wiping the drive, lol.)

Well. How do you end a blog post? "Goodbye"? "My dwindling faith in the ability of humankind to survive self-created catastrophes has been seriously shaken by recent world events"? "I once ate a Starbucks sandwich on purpose, you probably shouldn't read anything I write"?

I'll put up some book reviews, next time.

it felt good to be out of the rain

Well, I think we can all agree that if there's one thing I'm good at, it's not posting on this blog. My last six months have been filled with the typical medieval bestiary of Debbie Downer life events — many of which have been related to severe health crises, for both myself and others — that I always feel slightly guilty writing about online, as if I'm attempting to elicit the sympathy of strangers to collect donations for a shady religious charity. There is definitely something coercive about saying, I or someone I love almost died! to people who don't know you in person. I don't know why! But it always makes me feel uncomfortable when I read other people's explanations of dodged fatality. I empathize with people who have gone through awful things, obviously, but I suppose I have somehow acquired a puritanical dedication to suffering in silence myself. Maybe it's all those English fantasy novels. Still: I got better! My mother got better! My father got better! Then my mother got better again! We're all better. (Mostly.) (92%) We are as well as modern medicine can make a person, which is good enough to write blog posts with.

I've already written a post about "politics," but it turned out to be so full of poison and despair that I'm never going to let anyone see it. I'm currently taking it apart into two posts; one is about the failures of American cultural liberalism, and the other about well-off essay-writing white people who would like to reclassify poor white men as a minority group (when white people call for an 'end to identity politics' and they aren't being 100% disingenuous, this is what they're talking about). Writing about both of these things makes me angry, of course, but the "white people suddenly trying to invade the spaces to which minorities historically retreated for self-protection, because those minorities managed to make their own exclusion look like a fun party" part passeth all understanding. White people, what are you doing to us? What are you doing to yourselves?

Anyway. Since I've spent the last five-odd months sitting in hospitals and doctors' offices reading, with an increasing degree of incredulity, the articles in mildly-outdated American "news," "science," and "women's" magazines, I have prepared for you an overview of the intellectual landscape of the dying world of paper publishing. It's like the maps Tolkien put at the beginning of all of his Middle-earth novels, only pointless. This is a brief enumeration of some of my favorite topics, all of which were, are, and will be written about in the the most opaque, inhumane, and unimaginative ways possible:

• My Wife's Decent Salary Made My Penis Redundant
• Will You Get A Load Of All Of These Millennials Over Here
• Do You Remember That Time In The Recent Or Distant Past When Things Were Wonderful/Explicable
• Is The Entire Universe Going To Explode Next Year
• Impressionable Suburban Jamokes Are Frightened Of Various Mostly-Imaginary Threats, Here's Why You Should Worry Too
• Everything You Eat And Touch Is A Cancer IOU
• Will You Get A Load Of All Of These [Post-Millennial Generation Name] Over Here
• Have You Noticed That Some Emotionally-Crippled White Folks Act Like Assholes Online
• Look At Some Floodlit Photos Of Obnoxious Underweight Rich Famous People Who Are Promoting A Depressing Commercial Entertainment Product, They Are Such Adorable Nerds (Follow Them On Social)
• How To Dumb Down Your Feminism So It Doesn't Threaten Your Guy (He's An Hysterical Useless Baby That You Won't Ever Dump) (Not That We're Suggesting You Should Lol!!!)
• This Giant Faceless Tax-Evading Corporation Is Spearheading Symbolic Logo-Ridden Efforts To Combat Some Of The Starvation And Misery It Created (Here's How You Can Help) (Buy Stuff)
• Is It Okay If Fat People Exist
• This Repellant Irrational White Supremacist Fulfills Many Brainless People's Expectations About Conventional Physical Attractiveness: Does That Make Him/Her More Or Less Scary
• Could You Be Putting Even More Effort Into Your Pointless Job
• 10 Tips For Helping Women Shoulder Extra Cultural Burdens
• Cook All Your Own Food Which You Grew Yourself (In A Quirky Repurposed Pinterest Bucket)
• Let's Go Back To Training Men To Perform Outdated And Harmful Gender-Stereotyped Behaviors So Dumb Women Will Want To Fuck Them More
• Be Sure Your House Is Decorated Exactly Like All The Other Houses
• New Study Says Thumb Dexterity Is Down 12% Among Kindergarteners (Scientists Blame Recently-Discovered Undetectable Toxins) (The Word "Down" Is Defined Creatively)
• Pretending That Making Your Own Shampoo, Toothpaste, And Cosmetic Products Is A Fun And Necessary Activity
• Here Is A Fawning Interview With A Man Who Portrays That Character In A Popular Movie Or Television Show That Everyone Wants To Fuck
• Read An Over-Simplified Account Of The Isolation Of A Minor Neurotransmitter That Looks As If It Might Have Something To Do With Appetite Control (Will The Scientists Finally Give Us A Magic Diet Pill?) (No)
• Do These Difficult And Faddish Calisthenic Exercises So You Can Look Like A Photoshopped Celebrity In Your Swimsuit And Attract The Sexualized Beach Gaze Of Random Men
• How To Make Your Own Substandard Naked Feet Look Like An Extruded Plastic Nordstrom Mannequin's Pedal Appendages
• This Boring Well-Off White Couple's Desperate Expensive Quest To Breed Biological Children Will Make You Wonder How People This Stupid Were Able To Acquire That Much Disposable Income
• Acting Like The $350 Purse Is A Major Bargain Compared To The $7,438 Purse Which It Resembles (They Are Both Ugly)
• A Misinterpretation Of Poorly-Understood And Incomplete Scientific Data Suggests That Women Are Biologically Required To Pursue Cuddles, Babies, And Ice Cube-Sized Engagement Rings At The Expense Of Rational Thought
• This Plant-Related Superfood Has Been "Linked" To A "Reduction" In "Cancer Risk": 9 Unpalatable Smoothie Recipes Whose Greenness Conveys Awareness Of Global Injustice (Get A Transparent Travel Cup)
• We Rated 34 Brands Of Transparent Travel Cup And Will Coincidentally Recommend The One Sold By Our Biggest Ad Sponsor
• Profiling The Deeply Deranged Megalomaniacs Of Silicon Valley Who Are Titling At The Windmill Of Human Mortality (Like Alchemists, Only Dumber And Wearing Khakis)
• 10 Minutes Of Mindfulness A Week Will Literally Stop You From Ever Dying
• How To Tastefully Wear Your #NastyWoman T-shirt To Your Aggressively Soulless Corporate Workplace Without Annoying Any Important Men (Accessorize)
• Donald Trump: Is He Orange Satan, Or An Old Toddler? We Ask Poets, Chemical Engineers, And Your Mom

I left out all the articles I saw about Muslims, because I knew better than to read them.

I don't actually have the time to reply to comments at the moment, assuming there might be any, but I (probably) will soon. Also I have lots of things to do online before I can get back to writing mean words about fantasy novels. Speaking of which! I am currently working on the review of a couple of feminist fantasy novels written by men, as well as finishing Carolyne Larrington's King Arthur's Enchantresses. After that, it's Simon Schama & Mark Fisher. After that, who knows? 

Thank you for your continuing forbearance, Five People Who Sometimes Read My Blogger Blog!

ETA: I JUST DISCOVERED THAT I HAVEN'T GOT A FEMINISM TAG WTF FIXED

love in the time of the flu (or something)

Reader, I had the flu. Or something. I had it badly. I was sick for two+ weeks. Everyone I know also had the flu (or something) and was sick for two+ weeks. This particular flu (or something) had the following unique characteristics (in my case, at least):

• My temperature got so high I couldn't feel my hands or feet.
• Normally I never get a fever, ever.
• But this time my fever was 105ºF.
• I stopped taking my temperature when it was 105ºF.
• I had to control it with staggered doses of Tylenol and Advil in order to avoid having concerned family members call an ambulance for me.
• The skin on my lips and in my ears turned red and peeled off.
• The skin on the palms of my hands dried up and peeled off.
• And itched.
• Something happened to my hair
• It got horribly brittle and dry, no matter what kinds of (expensive!) keratin & jojoba oil & esters of goat milk & other shit I put on it.
• I cut it all off, Victorianly.
• It's not quite BBC Sherlock: The Early Years, but I can see that haircut from here.
• I took 2000mg of augmentin a day for ten days + cough syrup + chlorpheniramine maleate and I have just now started feeling like I am human again.
• All the housework was waiting for me :[

I am posting that goddamned Uprooted review right this minute, because I am starting to believe it's cursed.

ONE OF US IS CERTAINLY CURSED, READER.

(I hope it's the Uprooted review.)

My hair!

i am not dead; i did not die

I did, however, discover that the Blogger interface has no clearly visible Find & Replace function. Almost as bad?

I also had to fistfight Blogger’s comments service so it would let me reply to the nice comments people had left under my last post. That mofo didn’t go down easy, believe me, but I hit like a girl.

Also I had to switch out of Chrome, because it just randomly stopped working a couple of hours ago — and every time it quit on me, my menubar went from black to white. Weirdness.

Anyway! I’m reading four books, fixing up a new Links page for my website (because the hot popup I copypasta’d and spent an hour editing doesn’t work in mobile browsers, sadness, sorrow, regret), and working through the worst flare of PCOS symptoms I’ve had in two years. And assiduously avoiding Tumblr!

Tomorrow evening I will post the book survey I was working on. Until then you can content your bad  bibliophilic self with this repost of old content, which took me ages to arrange because all the electronic devices in my household are working against me tonight. I’m going to the doctor tomorrow afternoon, and after that I’ll probably visit my horrible granny for awhile (so she can tell me I’m fat and remind me repeatedly that I’m the only non-married adult member of the family now) (THAT’S A FEATURE NOT A BUG GRANDMA) — but after that, it’ll just be us and the books.

Sounds like a party to me!

they don’t make it easy, do they?

I’ve just haphazardly changed the layout, because I noticed the old one was mostly non-functional — it blacked out comment replies, for example, because what a good idea. I plan to fix up something a little fancier later, after I’ve done A Little Research. Anyway, shit should mostly work now.

(The answer to that question is "no they don’t." I had to visit three different unrelated and unconnected pages to make the changes I just made. It reminded me of LiveJournal, for Christ’s sake.)

(I’ll be all right, though, don’t worry about me.)

angels & insects

Oh man, I really miss Doghouse Riley. He was my favorite. I catch myself clicking over to his blog every time A Thing happens, and then horrors, horrors. Like, what would he have said about God’s Not Dead, which will be coming to Netflix on August 5 (not that I’ve been checking)? Something awesome, probably. Something much awesomer than I could ever think up. I tried to read his archives but they were too terrible to look at — especially the parts where he talked about his Poor Wife. Big words are no substitute for intelligence. God is very definitely dead.

Anyway. I have a new cat! Her name is Angel. She came from a local shelter, and was previously an outdoor city stray. She spends 98.7% of her life sleeping, and distributes the waking portion among activities like eating, pooping, trying to climb out of my bedroom window, etc. It’s like I’m looking at myself, here, only much more beautiful and with denser fur:

As a bonus, here’s my mother’s cat demonstrating some important new discoveries he’s made in the field of cat sentience, using nothing but my eyebrow-plucking mirror and his own scientific determination:

I missed most of the spring blossoming action this year, but managed to get a decent-ish picture of the weird little ornamental fruit tree in the front yard. The fruits themselves are the size, shape and color of cranberries, but when you open one up it looks like a tiny apple and tastes like all the bitter regrets you turn over and over in your mind when you’re trying to fall asleep at night:

Lastly, here is a photograph of a strange-looking insect that I found on the hose post:

Yes, I live in a gigantic rain barrel. Thank you for asking.

I’ll try to think up something to write about that isn’t too boring later this week. Maybe I’ll review one of my dodgy ancient history books, or post a recipe or something. Something.

(The Blogger interface is really a piece of shit. I’d just like to add that. For posterity.)
(I also already published this once, by accident, but without the photos and with more typos. Sorry!)
(Mostly for myself.)

half full

When I said "once a week," clearly what I meant was "never." If you had any sympathy for real human emotion you’d understand that.

My avatar looks like a cropped still from a very boring porno :[

More later; also, cat photos.