2) We donāt want to pause our music to talk to you.
3) We donāt even talk to each other on the phone ā why would we want to talk to you?
But the biggest reason is A TRAIL. If I e-mail you back, you can see what was said in the future. You canāt tell me I forgot to tell you something because itās right there. You canāt tell me I ānever reached outā because we can both SEE it. I donāt have to trust your recollection.
And, in a group inbox, you can see who has been responded to. I got forwarded a voicemail from my supervisor (through e-mail! imagine that!) asking me to call some lady back for clarification. So I did, against my will of courseā¦and she said somebody had called her yesterday.
Who? When? What did yāall talk about? Is follow-up necessary?
Phone calls back and forth only work in a workflow where the standard procedure is to *log* phone calls in a shared system with a brief summary of what was discussed. Otherwise, yāall need to let us e-mail. Itās not just about a generation gap. Itās also about efficiency.
Thanks for coming to my TED Talk. Any feedback can be proffered via e-mail.
EDIT
Also: letās keep it real ā we multi-task better than you do. If Iām on the phone with you, Iām FORCED to do that ONE thing and put whatever you want above all the other things I couldāve been doing. If you e-mail me, I can research what you want (while doing other things), find the solution (while doing other things), and offer it to you in a nice concise package (while doing other things) without sitting on the phone with you in awkward silence looking for the answer to whatever you think is urgent. (Itās not urgent. Youāre not dying. I know itās not urgent.)
OP is being kind in saying āi donāt have to trust your recollection.ā people straight up lie, especially customers.
Hair bias is a real problem. Itās rarely talked about, but it affects millions globally.
This World Afro Day, weāre calling time on this.
Whatever your hair type, join the movement to Change the Facts, Not the Fro. In celebrating our Afro hair this weekend in all of its versatility, help us continue the conversation by tagging us in your pics @worldafroday.
Today I found out that yarners think crocheting socks is subversive and controversial and I justā¦on one hand, why the fuck not, I guess yarners are allowed to have their controversies, but on the other, how much time do you have in your FUCKIN DAY??
My main concern is how they would feel but Maggie u know yarn fandom gotta think about something while knitting five miles of stockingnette for a sweater
Look, you canāt just leave it at that, why is it subversive and controversial? *gets popcorn*
I mean, Iām taking this on good faith, and Iām not saying this is my own personal belief.Ā I believe in all crafts.Ā
Butā¦the structure of the stitches and the resulting fabric is pretty different between crochet and knitting.Ā You get different effects between them, which lends themselves to different crafts.Ā And none of the effects of (most) crochet stitches lend themselves naturally to socks.Ā Youāre (usually) going to end up with something either stiff and bulky, or full of holes that will Not Feel Good to walk on. Whereas knitted socks will justā¦BE elastic and comfortable.
Sure you CAN do it.Ā And there are people and patterns that do it well!!
But MOST crochet socks are a bit like calling this a bicycle
I meanā¦ Okay?Ā But people are going to Talk.
But this is BABY controversy, this is nothing.Ā You havenāt even touched on the good shit like RHSS or that time the Olympic Committee dissed us.
Iiiinteresting. So one of those ājust because you CAN doesnāt mean you SHOULDā things.
Also I know very little about the yarn fandom except for that bit where a woman had to fake her death and had a nervous breakdown over selling homespun/dyed yarn so like, I already have big expectations.
Was that the one that ādiedā of leukemia or the one that ādiedā of lupus, or the one that overdosed?
From what I know of the narrative as it was described to me, I want to say the one that overdosed, but I am intrigued and vaguely concerned that there are multiple distinct individuals the above situation could apply to.
hey umm, what the fuck
the fake deaths thing: indie yarn dyer gets popular, gets overwhelmed by orders, canāt refund money because of shitty bookkeeping, decides faking online death is the only way out.
iām sure some of them are unintentional rather than premeditated scammers but theyāre all still thieving assholes who shouldnāt be running businesses and need to give all the money back.
the olympics commitee: ravelry, well-known knitting (fiber arts in general) site, held a contest they called the āravelympicsā to drum up olympic support then get a cease-and-desist letter for copyright infringement, and the letter said that calling it that ādenigrates the true nature of the Olympic Gamesā and was ādisrespectful to our countryās finest athletesā
except, you know, ravelry had like 2 million users who all, by nature of ravelry being a website, have basic tech literacy. the social media backlash was so bad that the olympics board had to make 2 official apologies because the first wasnāt good enough.
RHSS: Red Heart Super Saver is cheap Walmart-level yarn. some people hate it because it used to be just really fucking awful and they havenāt bothered updating their opinions. some people hate it because they hate non-natural yarns. some people hate it because theyāre yarn snobs(which, btw, comes in two flavors: the disdainful assholes and the people who just donāt see the point if you have the money and donāt indulge yourself). a lot of people defend it because itās cheap and widely locally available and honestly not that bad after a wash and some fabric softener.
crocheted socks: exactly what kaitoukitty said. people who crochet socks tend to either be new crocheters who are not aware crochet is not the best medium for socks or experienced crocheters who are pushing the boundaries of the medium.
babies on fire: i canāt believe weāre talking about yarncraft controversies and no one mentioned babies on fire. thatās my favorite controversy.
so when deciding what material to make baby blankets out of, in addition to considerations like softness, ease of washing, and allergy concerns quite a lot of people like to consider what would happen to the baby if the blanket was set on fire. yes, really.
wool has the problem ofĀ hand-wash only blankets for a new mother (superwash wool exists but thatās a whole ānother paragraph), allergy concerns, and also
real fucking expensive if you want quality not-itchy-on-baby-skin wool. but pro-wool-blanket people insist that because wool actually resists being set on fire pretty well and also can self-extinguish, itās the only sensible choice.
acrylic on the other hand is cheap and you can throw it in the washing machine, and while bad quality acrylics might be stiff and plastic-y theyāre not itchy, but if it gets set on fire it will melt onto the babyās skin. pro-acrylic people insist that if your blanket is on fire, you probably have bigger problems than what the blanket is made of.
wow I didnāt expect such a detailed response. thank you!
Fiber Arts Just Be Fucking Like That.
Humans Just Be Fucking Like That.
I mean, seriously, we will do this this shit in literally any goddamn community you care to conceive of and some you havenāt. The human condition, man. Itās literally everywhere humans are and has been since we started being human. so, like, a couple million years.
Same wank different fandom.
And NO ONE likes it when you mistake knitting for crocheting or crocheting for knitting.
And weavers are salty because everybody forget we even exist.
But spinners are all HERE LET ME TEACH YOU TO DO THIS THING, but we get snippy amongst ourselves about wheels vs spindles.
Meanwhile, embroiderers and tatters are off in the corner like āheyā¦.hey weāre still hereā¦.anybody wanna learn?ā
As I was reading this I kept waiting for the tattoo to be revealed as like a nazi symbol or some racist shit like for the kkk of something but nopeā¦.. She was just THAT hurt by ink
You left out the BEST part āI stand, a lone tyrannosaurus, bellowing at a world I donāt understand.ā
Write a story that starts with emptying the wastebasket in the bathroom.
Thereās a quest scroll in the bottom of the trashcan, under the bag, and I pause putting in a new bag as I stare at it. Since itās being observed, the scroll changes and begins to glow with golden light.
āCongratulations,ā a genderless, lightly accented voice says. It doesnāt make sense, but it sounds like itās coming through the light, echoing and warm.Ā āYouāve been chosen to embark on a magnificentāā
I lunge before it can finish, heart thundering against my ribs, and wrap it in the black trash bag. Itās warm to the touch, even through the plastic, but once I get it properly bundled, I canāt hear or see it which means Iāve managed to contain it.
For now.
I abandon my cleaning cart, shouldering the bathroom door open too quickly. It nearly takes out a high schooler lurking behind it.
āWatch it,ā the girl snarls, shaking out the hand that had caught the door before it connected with her face.Ā
āBe grateful,ā I tell her, shoving the garbage bag bundle under my shirt.Ā āIām, like, basically saving your life right now.ā
She scrunches her nose.Ā āWhat?ā
I donāt answer, instead hurrying towards the principalās office. Sometimes the sorcerer or witch or whoever sticks around after planting them and I definitely do not want to run into them.
āPrincipal Flag!ā I skid past the receptionist and kick the door open, arms wrapped around the quest scroll under my shirt.Ā āWeāve got a problem!ā
Principal Flag nearly throws her brush across the room at my sudden entrance, a blush rising furiously along her cheekbones.Ā āI told you to knock!ā Her horse hindquarters stamp in irritation and she hastily smooths her long, centaur skirt back over them.
āSorry,ā I pant, coming to a stop in front of her desk.Ā āBut this canāt wait, weāve got a problem. I found aāa quest in the girlsā bathroom.ā
āItās actually a gender-neutral bathroom now,ā Principal Flag corrects, seemingly on reflex.Ā āThe students voted and I think itās quite wonderfuā did you say you found a quest?ā She pales.Ā āWas itāwas it activated?ā
āNo,ā I say. I carefully pull the bundle from out under my shirt, dropping it onto her desk.Ā āIām the first to come in contact. It tried to give me the Chosen One speech.ā
Principal Flagās hands hover over the black plastic.Ā āGod, it talked? Did you feel a compulsion? Depending on the strength, we could be facing quite the adversary here.ā
āI donāt know.ā I pull up the visitorās chair, legs still shaking.Ā āIāve already been a Chosen one, you know that, a compulsion wouldnāt work on me.ā I shake my head.Ā āWe canāt let whoever did this try again. A quest scroll ruined my life, our lives, I donāt want that to happen to a kid.ā
āI remember,ā Principal Flag says grimly.Ā āIāll be damned if I let some thousand-year-old warlock make off with one of my students. Not. In. My. School.ā She trots around her desk to the cabinet. From there, she removes a black, metal box.Ā āFirst, weāll destroy it. Itās times like these that Iām thankful we have so many helicopter parents on the PTA. They practically give us the money for these.ā
I watch as she opens the box. Dark, rolling steam pours from it and across the desk. When it touches the trash bag, the air begins to smell of burning plastic. Ā Principal Flag picks it up, wincing as the heating plastic burns her fingers and drops it into the box.
āA CURSE,ā the scroll shrieks from inside the box.Ā āYOU HAVE DEFIED THE ANCIENTāā
Principal Flag slams the lid back on, locking the thing down. The thing is still shrieking, but the words are muffle and neither Flag or I are susceptible to half curses. Not since our childhoods.
āIt had to be an inside job,ā I say after the screams begin to die out.Ā āYouāve got the school locked down and I would have noticed anyone sneaking in.ā
āI agree,ā Principal Flag says. Sheās still glaring at the box, mouth a thin line. She looks back at me, grey eyes sharp.Ā āWhoever planted it is a monster. Thereās no way they didnāt mean for a kid to find out.ā
āGiving quest scrolls to minors is against the law,ā I say.Ā āWe could call the police?ā
Both Flag and I stare at each other for a long moment. Then we burst into laughter.
āA Successful?ā Flag howls.Ā āOh my god, can you imagine what a Successful would say?ā
I wipe tears out of my eyes. Successfuls were people who completed quests, generally the light and fun ones that made good day time drama.Ā āOh,āāĀ I say in a falsetto,Ā āāIād have killed to have a scroll as a kid. Itās such an honor. Theyāre starting off right!ā
We laugh more, the sound verging on hysteria. Neither of us had the good fortune to be quested with a return the stone to the mountain scroll. Weād gotten something much, much worse.
āOh, thatās good,ā Flag says, dotting under her eyes with a tissue. She sobers slowly, chuckles dying out.Ā āNo, we wonāt go to the police. I think that us two Unsuccessfuls will do the job nicely.ā She grins and thereās something dark in it, darker than one might expect from a highschool principal.
I know that darkness is reflected right back in my smile.Ā āIāll get on it.ā
There are Successfuls, heroes and martyrs who come back stronger and better after getting a quest scroll.
Then there are Unsuccessfuls like us who, if they come back, come back much, much worse.
Whatās remarkable about John Watson is that when Sherlock first deduced everything about him, he mustāve thought that āOkay, this person just told me my whole life story without being nice about itā and then just accepted it. Like, āokay, he knows everything about me now, no going back. And besides what does it matter? He just knows. I canāt take all that back. Itās just who I am and this person knows and didnāt have any judgements about me. This Sherlock Holmes just knew everything about me. He didnāt mean to humiliate me by telling me about my life. He just told me everything he knew about me. Which is remarkable, by the way.ā
What Iām trying to say is, I donāt know how Iād react if put into such a situation but Sherlock just knows things about people. He canāt help it. Itās just that he sees these things about them. Like signals coming into his brain, he canāt stop that. Itās as natural for him as breathing. When Sherlock tells everyone what heās deduced about them, he doesnāt mean it to be humiliating, (sometimes he does that, if itās necessary)he just lets people know that he knows. Like, āyouāre a pilot and I was able to deduce that from your thumb. Youāre having an affair with so and soā etc. He just states them like they are facts. He isnāt judging anyone. Itās just what he does. He deduces for the sake of it. Not to harm anyone.
But people get offended. Would I get offended if a stranger just tells me my whole life story? Well, Iām currently on my bed and I think I wonāt be offended. But I donāt know what Iāll do if I was in that situation. What I do know is that it wonāt make sense for me to be offended. There are things I do, things about my life that are just facts. I canāt change them. Iāve made decisions that made me the person I am and thatās made up my life, so why should I be mad if someone just tells me all of that?
Like, Anderson and Sally are having an affair and Sherlock points that out and they get offended. Sure Sherlock does that to achieve that effect. But my point is, if youāre doing something, own up to it, like āOkay. Iām having an affair. So what?ā But if itās something worth getting offended over, stop doing it. Itās a simple choice. Sherlock Holmesā deductions arenāt false: he points out your life and your choices and if you get offended by his details, then thatās your problem, not his. Itās like a doctor telling someone that they have a disease and them getting offended. Pointless, that is.
But John, oh my lovely John. Heās not happy with himself when he meets Sherlock. His image of himself is this: an invalided army doctor who has nothing to do, no purpose, useless in every sense of the word. Heās aware of everything Sherlock points out: he is an army doctor, he got shot, he has a psychosomatic limp, he has an alcoholic, divorced sibling with whom he wants nothing to do with. They are all facts about him. So why should he be offended? This stranger heās just met and is about to probably live with, knows everything about him. Which, of course, makes one feel vulnerable and such but this person already knows and that canāt be changed, so what? He doesnāt care about all that.
What our Army Doctor does think about is how amazing that was. How incredible it was that someone was able to tell him all about his life. Because he knows itās not common, itās extraordinary in every way. He knows no one else can do that. Itās interesting. So letās concentrate on that because the rest are just facts about his life, no point in dwelling on that.
As self deprecating he is, he is self aware. He knows his weaknesses. He knows he canāt change them. So why should he be angry at someone who just told him all that he already knows about himself? Why not tell this person that what they just did was amazing and extraordinary and heās never seen anything like it. Because those are facts too. Sherlock Holmesā deductions and mind are āfantasticā and ābrilliantā and heāll be damned if he doesnāt let Sherlock and the rest of the world know that.
yes!!! even though heās insecure and not entirely comfortable with himself, john is still confident enough that sherlockās comments donāt make him feel inferior. he knows heās exceptionally smart, and doesnāt make him feel bad about it out of envy. i feel like the reason why most people hate sherlock isnāt because of the things he says but because of his near-superpower. take sally and anderson, for example. they clearly canāt be upset about the fact that theyāre having an affair-i mean, itās their choice; and they are adults who should own up to it. of course it would be beyond annoying to have someone tell you that to your face, but that still doesnāt explain why she would hate him so much, and constantly insult him. i mean come on, what grown person on the planet starts and ends every sentence with an insult? it just makes her look childish, because her reaction to sherlock is out of her control and isnāt really the annoyance that one would normally feel in that situation, if a clearly lonely and weird man tells you something insensitive. iād shrug it off unless it was something truly offensive, in which case iād tell him once to stop, and otherwise iād just avoid contact with him. isnāt that what adults (funny that iām considering myself one) do? thatās because this is not about what he says, but about 1) the fact that he sees through people, which makes everyone uncomfortable (the content, if you will) and 2) his actual ability to know what he knows. thatās envy, plain and simple.Ā
yes!
Yes yes yes. I also feel thereās something very particular about the moment at which Sherlock meets John – in other words, when John is suicidal. Heās trying his best to envision a future for himself (find a flatmate, a basic precaution against the loneliness that leaves him time to stare at the gun he shouldnāt have).
Heās operating on nothing – we can all recognise it. Heās tired of himself, tired of things going wrong, tired of life; but still holding on, still struggling to keep going out of that desperate urge to live – that will to hope that better things might come – that every human has deep down.
Youāre so right to say that he has no illusions about himself during ASIP. Heās too tired to pretend, to bristle, to put up walls between him and the all-seeing madman. Heās almost got used to taking himself out of the equation, to thinking of himself as hardly there. Instead, he just sees Sherlock, and how brilliant what he can do is. He doesnāt have that gap that most people – most adults – have between what their actions say about them, and what they believe about themselves.
Johnās lack of ego in ASIP is a very subtle and beautiful part of his characterisation, and a good indicator of how close he came to suicide, to loss of himself.
Iād also argue that itās very faithful to ACD canon. You can tell, in the way Watson writes in STUD, that his affable exterior hides a desperately unhappy, scared man. All the clues are there: āmy health irretrievably ruinedā; the description of London as a ācesspoolā (the place that he chooses for himself, and this is how he describes it!); āleading a comfortless, meaningless existenceā. Watsonās life truly reaches a crisis the day he meets Holmes – and the writing makes clear that he clings to his interest in, and intrigue about, the mysterious figure of Holmes, as a way to escape his own pain and attacks of ānervesā (depression/possibly PTSD).
Beltainefaerie's Flights of Fancy 