penfairy:

I was talking to someone about Fury Road today and they said ‘I just hated how it had no plot. They just left and then turned around and went straight back, it was so stupid’ and I think my soul was in danger of leaving my body because really – that’s the whole point. That’s the great message of Mad Max Fury Road – they need to leave and go back because they need to understand that the Green Place doesn’t exist. Valhalla doesn’t exist. There’s no better place waiting, no Eden to escape to, nowhere for Furiosa and the wives to run to. This world, broken and damaged and war-torn as it is, is all they have, and if they want a Green Place then they have to make it themselves. They have to choose peace. They have to choose love for each other. They have to take the seeds from the older, violent generation and start again. They have to destroy the oppressive power structures holding them back, capitalism and the patriarchy that Immortan Joe represents.

The Green Place was around them all along, and it takes this long, cyclical journey to understand that, both for them and for the audience. The circular narrative structure is an absolute work of genius, and the fact that the entire plot can be boiled down to “they leave and come back” is an indication of how well this works as an action movie – that the plot is simple enough so everyone can understand what’s going on while explosions are going off and cars are racing past at 100mph – yet it’s still incredibly rich and wonderfully complex too.

And what a pertinent message to send out – the generations before us killed the world and now it’s up to us to fix what’s broken. There’s no Green Place but the one we make ourselves, which will be born out of fire and blood and rise from the ashes of the old world.

ohthatconnor:

drinkmasturbatecry:

nudityandnerdery:

the-fandoms-are-valentines:

grandtheftautosanandreas:

Douglas Adams is the best when it comes to describe characters

they need to teach classes on Douglas Adams analogies okay

“He leant tensely against the corridor wall and frowned like a man trying to unbend a corkscrew by telekinesis.”

“Stones, then rocks, then boulders which pranced past him like clumsy puppies, only much, much bigger, much, much harder and heavier, and almost infinitely more likely to kill you if they fell on you.”

“He gazed keenly into the distance and looked as if he would quite like the wind to blow his hair back dramatically at that point, but the wind was busy fooling around with some leaves a little way off.”

“It looked only partly like a spaceship with guidance fins, rocket engines and escape hatches and so on, and a great deal like a small upended Italian bistro.”

“If it was an emotion, it was a totally emotionless one. It was hatred, implacable hatred. It was cold, not like ice is cold, but like a wall is cold. It was impersonal, not as a randomly flung fist in a crowd is impersonal, but like a computer-issued parking summons is impersonal. And it was deadly – again, not like a bullet or a knife is deadly, but like a brick wall across a motorway is deadly.”

And, of course:

“The ships hung in the sky in much the same way that bricks don’t.”

the one that will always stay with me is “Arthur Dent was grappling with his consciousness the way one grapples with a lost bar of soap in the bath,” i feel like that was the first time i really understood what you could do with words.

Writing Goals

tonight’s perennial spelling PSA

byzantienne:

jumpingjacktrash:

ceruleancynic:

PEAK/PEEK, LIE/LAY, DRAGGED/DRUG: DON’T MIX EM UP, KIDS

We’ve been through this before. I will probably go find the last time I wrote about this and link it, but for now have the quick version.

1) Peak/peek

A peak is a pinnacle, highest point, summit. Mountains have peaks. So does sufficiently whipped cream. One’s emotions can reach a peak

A peek is a furtive or clandestine glance at something. A sneak peek is an exclusive glimpse into a thing others don’t get to see yet. 

A sneak peak is a mountain which is trying not to be seen. It is not what you wish to convey. Saying “sneak peak” when you actually mean “sneak peek” does not do you or the thing which you are peeking at any favors whatsoever.

2) Lie/lay

This one is complicated. You lay something else down; you yourself lie down. When you cause other people or animals or substances to drape themselves on you, they are lying down on top of you. 

You lay a table. You do not lie a table. A chicken lays an egg, rather than lying it. Here we see the verb to lay directly meaning the act of oviposition, but as the chicken goes through the process of laying the egg, it also sets or places the egg upon whatever is underneath it, thus laying the egg as an object onto that substrate. You may lay yourself upon the table, but in the act of doing so, you are lying on it. 

The verse “now I lay me down to sleep” is in fact perfectly concurrent with the use of lie vs lay: the speaker or singer is stating that they are laying themselves, as a physical entity or object, down to sleep. “I lay me” = “I am lying.” Someone who can do grammar can explain the different tenses involved here, but when you say I lay me you are saying I am lying or about to lie down in a ceremonial way such that [myself] is the thing I set or am setting down.  

If you are describing the act of reclining your person on or against something, you are lying down. If you are depositing something else upon that something, you are laying [it] down. If you want to tell people that you spent some time reclining, you say “I’ve been lying down,” or “I was/had been lying down.” Do not say “I was laying down,” or even “X was laying down with/on/beside me,” because this is wrong.

3) Dragged/drug

This one is rarer but still extant. One drags a thing; one has dragged a thing. One has not drug a thing – drug itself is either the noun medicament or the verb to medicate. One can drug a thing, in terms of giving it drugs; one has drugged the thing if this has occurred already, and the thing can be described as having been drugged or just straight-up drugged once you have done this. It has absolutely nothing to do with physically taking hold of something and moving it to another location.

Drug is not the past participle of the verb to drag: that is dragged. I do not know the particular rules governing how this type of verb is conjugated in English or why – English is basically the linguistics equivalent of the kid turning you upside down for your lunch money and then shooting up in the bathroom – but this is straight-up wrong. Do not do it. 

I suppose you could make a case for “drug” based on the tacit acceptance of “ain’t” and “y’all” but it is wrong. It is as wrong as yunk for yanked or grub for grabbed. It is extremely jarring and will make people blink at you. Do not do it.

I refer the explanations for why these rules are rules to people who know and can explain them: but they are the rules, and you have to learn them, and you have to prove you have learned them before you can go breaking them because otherwise people will blink quite a lot at you and wonder if you know that you’re fucking up.

OH AND BONUS ROUND

one dyes one’s hair; one is in the act of dyeing it, with dye

one does not dy one’s hair or be in the act of dying it, with dy

dying is the act of shuffling off the mortal coil; dyeing is the act of changing the color of a thing

the E is of crucial importance here

‘drug’ instead of ‘dragged’ appears to be a southern american dialect thing. there are a few other altered past tenses i’ve run across from the same sources – for instance, ‘grit’ as its own past tense, instead of ‘gritted’. ‘he grit his teeth.’ considering how wacky english tenses are, with stuff like shut and drunk and swim/swam/swum (seriously what’s going on there), i can’t blame dialects for throwing a few similar noises at the wall to see what sticks.

just don’t do it unless your speaker or POV character is speaking a type of english that’s full of those words. and also probably says y’all unironically.

Okay so apparently what happens to me if I actually sleep eight hours and the sun is out and I have coffee and no immediate horrible tasks is that I want to talk about The Strong Verb In English

because the dragged/drug dialect variation is real and true (though @ceruleancynic is absolutely right that in Standard American English the grammatically correct form is dragged). But @jumpingjacktrash is also right in a) noting that Southern dialects of American English often preserve ‘drug’ as well as other oddities like ‘grit his teeth’ (that one is more widespread than Southern, as it’s in my personal idiolect as well and I’m a native New Yorker – for me ‘to grit’ is conjugated ‘he grits (currently) / he grit (in the past)’ and ‘gritted’ is kinda weird); b) pointing out that dragged/drug and grit/gritted are related to the weirdness of drink/drank/drunk and swim/swam/swum. They are! They totally are!

because there are secretly two kinds of verbs in English, and we make the past tenses differently with Kind A and Kind B. Linguistics has a bunch of names for the two different kinds, but the one I learned are STRONG verbs and WEAK verbs.

I will explain. (I will explain for American English, as this is my native language.)

your standard or regular English verb, the kind that if you were lucky enough to have a grammar class was taught as ‘the regular verb’, is in fact a Weak Verb. Weak verbs are grammatically differentiated using suffixes – stuff tacked on to the end of the verb. Let’s use ‘to jump’ as an example, and let’s stick with third person singular (so one dude/lady/individual, doing a thing). I’m going to avoid singular they just for the moment, because it can confuse grammar prescriptivists and we want to make them go away for a minute, this is hard enough.

he/she/it/xie jumps – in this present moment, the individual is going up and down under their own power. We have the base form of the verb (also called the ‘verb stem’), ‘jump’, and then we’ve added a present-tense marker (’-s’) to the END of the base form. This process is called inflecting the verb – adding or changing something about the verb to tell us some information about its tense (…or person or number or mood, but we’re working with tense.)

he/she/it/xie jumped – in the past, the individual went up and down under their own power. Here’s the verb stem again, with a different suffix. jump + ed. The ‘-ed’ suffix is how English marks the past tense.

he/she/it/xie had jumped – in the past, BEFORE SOME OTHER PAST EVENT, the individual went up and down under their own power. Ah, the past perfect. Fuck the past perfect, seriously, no one explains this thing. Basically, languages can sometimes pay a lot of attention to sequencing, and mark when stuff happens in relation to other stuff grammatically. We use the past perfect to make clear that one event happened before another event in the past. So, in this case, the individual jumped, and then some other thing happened in the past, and now both those things have happened. We form the past perfect for a weak English verb by using the past tense (jump + ed) and adding an auxiliary or helping verb to the front of the word. In this case we are using the past tense of the verb to have to make our helping verb. Auxiliary verbs are a little beyond this explanation, so let’s just leave it as a pattern: to make the past perfect for a weak verb, you have past tense auxiliary (had) + stem + past suffix (-ed)

now for the STRONG verb. Which in English grammar class is often taught as the irregular verb. It’s … not. Like, it’s not as common, but it’s totally regular, it’s not weird and pattern-breaky at all. (A real irregular verb is ‘to be’ or ‘to have’. Those things are fucked.) The thing is, though, we don’t have that many strong verbs in English, and most of them are really old. As in, the sounds they have haven’t changed all that much from Proto-Indo-European, the ancestor language of English (… and German and Latin and Greek and Russian and Armenian and Farsi. PIE got around.) Some of the strong verbs are ‘to sing’ and ‘to swim’.

What do all of these strong verbs immediately have in common? Their verb stem has an i vowel (and they’re all one syllable.) This is important in telling us how to change their tense. Let’s work with ‘to swim’, it’s a nice one.

he/she/it/xie swims – So far, so identical to the weak verb. Stem + third person singular present-tense marker (-s). An individual is currently moving themselves through water.

he/she/it/xie swam – There’s no -ed here! Instead, to make the past tense, we change the VOWEL of the strong verb from i to a. He swam, he sang. (Also he drove, but that’s a spelling weirdness.)

he/she/it/xie swum – And here we don’t even have a helping verb; the vowel has changed again, gotten darker and lower in the mouth. He swum, in the past before some other past event. He sung.

Why the hell does this happen?

Well. There’s a rule in Proto-Indo-European called ablaut, which basically means vowel changes. The vowel that appeared in any given syllable is called its “grade”. In
many words, the basic vowel was *e (e-grade), but, depending on what syllable of a word the stress fell on in PIE, this could change to *o (o-grade), or disappear altogether (zero grade). Both e and o could also be lengthened to ē and ō (lengthened grade). In Proto-Germanic, a daughter language of PIE, ablaut was one of the ways to determine the tense of the verb. An e-grade verb was in the present tense, an o-grade verb was past, and a lengthened grade verb was past perfect (I am simplifying this process iMMENSELY. Historical linguists – forgive me. This post is getting long.)

Now, in modern English (and modern German, for that matter), strong verbs are gradually disappearing. This is because all languages tend to get simpler as they get older. And we have this perfectly understandable weak verb, which conjugates in very predictable ways, and it’s just a hell of a lot easier to say jumps/jumped/had jumped than swims/swam/swum. We find the strong verb confusing. So we … turn it into a weak verb. In a hundred years, we will probably be saying swims/swimmed/had swimmed.

This process – the simplification to weak from strong – is about 4/5ths of the way done for drag. Drag used to be a strong verb – drags/drug/drug – and it is normalizing to a weak verb. There are still placed where the strong form persists in dialect.

… okay wow I have gone on for AGES and probably been somewhat confusing – I’m not a historical linguist, I’m a historian who knows a bunch of dead languages and likes reading linguistics stuff for fun. But hopefully this helps a little.

gabbyzvolt25:

bi-est-witch-of-middleearth:

kittenwiskers:

writing-prompt-s:

You’re in charge of assigning every child on Earth the monster under their bed. One child in particular has caused every monster assigned to him/her to quit. You decide to assign yourself.

Case: #273402
Status: Disastrous.

I stare at the file and realize I have no options, over the last 2 years every monster assigned to Charlotte Dower has quit, every last one. Her first monster; a giant goldfish-faced humanoid named Bubba, had been with her for four years, and then she wasn’t scared of him anymore. After that it was a string of different common, uncommon, and rare monsters… I even assigned a sentient sock monster to her. He came back crying!
I look on my tablet, only one assignable monster left; myself. Field work has never been my cup of tea, but desperate times call for desperate measures. So at 8:03 pm, after Mrs. Gideon tucks in Charlotte and her little brother Daniel; I slither into the space beneath Charlotte’s bed.
Across the room underneath Daniel’s crib is a rookie, Chico, a standard Creep kind of monster.
I turn my attention to the bed above me, Charlotte is still awake but barely, I reach up over the bed and run an ice cold finger over her cheek, silence, so I do it again.
“I’m not afraid of you monster!” She whispers, but her voice is shaking. I can see a small clock on the wall 8:14, a door somewhere in the house slams and there is an audible hitch of breath from above me. A few minutes go by I can hear Francis Gideon yelling at his wife. There are heavy footsteps on the stairs, and loud panting breaths, Charlotte scrambles off the bed and…
She. CRAWLS. Under. The. Bed. With. Me.
“Move. Over!” Charlotte hisses at me. I do.
The door to the bedroom slams open and I smell the stench of human intoxicants before the man even steps inside.
I know why Charlotte isn’t afraid of any of my monsters; she’s afraid of her own.
Francis reaches a hand under the bed and I thrust my wrist into it, he starts to pull, I slither out.
“What the…” I cut Francis’s next words off by unfolding to my full 12 foot height. Looming over the drunken man I caress my cold fingers down his face.
“If you ever touch, scare, or harm my child again, I will find you, and I will do the same to you, for all eternity.” I promise to him.
As Francis runs from the room he soils himself.
I pull Charlotte from under the bed, tuck her back under her covers and kiss her forehead goodnight. “I’ll be back tomorrow night, sleep well darling.”
Charlotte Dower is my child, I am the monster under her bed.

WELL GODAMN, WE HAVE OURSELVES A WINNER

Holy shit I’m gonna cry that’s beautiful.

p-chopra:

get shit done | a playlist to get you through your work (and help you feel like a badass)

i. sky battle ii. prologue iii. pacific rim iv. armies assemble v. hogwarts’ march vi. ithe son of flynn vii. fight on the flight deck viii. earth ix dream is collapsing x. nick fury xi. i am the doctor xii. fighting in the market xiii. main theme (extended) xiv. gotham’s reckoning xv. the black pearl xvi. courtyard apocalypse xvii. i am iron man xviii. muttations xix. the lighting of the beacons xx. black widow kicks ass xxi. flight xxii. the avengers xxiii. the battle xxiv.end titles xxv. sons of odin xxvi.the shatterdome xxvii.the end of all things xxviii. hassansin attack xxix. requiem for a dream xxx. welcome to scotland xxxi. outlands xxxii. sledgehammer v2 xxxiii. enterprising young men xxxiv. warriors on the beach xxxv. rise xxxvi. the council of elrond xxxvii. now you see me xxxviii. frost giant battle xxxix. the labyrinth xl. the sands of time

+listen

rocksaltandroll:

horticulturalcephalopod:

judgeanon:

sparksel:

commandershepardofficial:

thefrillyqueer:

hayhtam:

things to consider:

  • lady assassins 
  • lady assassins WITH GIRLFRIENDS 

But also:

  • lady assassins with girlfriends who are ALSO lady assassins

lady assassins with girlfriends who are also lady assassins but they don’t know about each other’s secret double life

Mrs and mrs smith

For added hilarity they could be completely different in their approaches. Like, one’s a rough-and-tumble brawling guns blazing crude thrill-seeking assassin, while the other’s a cloak-and-dagger hiding in plain sight mistress of disguise consummate professional.

They met in an online gardening chatroom.

They like to cultivate plants that could be used for poisons in their little window garden in an apartment they share in the city.

I’d like to cast Michelle Rodriguez and Lupita Nyong’o please.

spinningyarns:

madmaudlingoes:

assassinregrets:

im just

the cherokee language has a verb tense that specifically notes the exclusion of a person in the conversation

so there’s i’m going, you’re going, we’re going, and we’re going (but not you) 

i love it

This is called “clusivity” and it’s found a bunch of languages, including Chechen, Vietnamese, Samoan, and Quechua.

Some languages just side-eye harder than others.