You don’t really need another reason to be good to one another, but this is pretty funny.
Since we have finally meet up with the comet, I think this comic is appropriate.
I hate H. P. Lovecraft.
I know. I know. Talented tortured writer. Inspiration for some of my favorite authors, artists, friends, RPGs, etc.
I have read his Cthulu stories and his dream cycle. I have enjoyed them both for the most part. But through them, there was an undercurrent, a twisting strand that I loathed. Two, actually.
His stories have two ideas that are consistent. Both are completely antithetical to the weft of my very being.
First, that the Anglo Saxons are superior to every other race on Earth. Everyone else is deformed, ill intentioned, and/or foolish. His descriptions would have been enough, but biographies, personal letters, and countless scholarly works have been written about it. His Anglophilia came at the expense of everyone else. And it grates upon me.
Even so, it does not appear in every work. And he is usually subtle. It is possible to read without noticing for some people. But the second idea is larger and far more explicit.
If you were to search for one unifying idea throughout every one of his stories, it would be that humanity is best off not exploring, not researching, not learning about the universe. Because if humans learned more, if we saw what was truly out there, we would either go mad or be destroyed (sometimes both.)
I cannot even begin to describe how much that idea infuriates me.
Yes, the universe is big, scary, and filled with things beyond our comprehension. But we should not let fear keep us from learning. Our curiosity is one of our greatest attributes. And I stand with G. K. Chesterton who said, “[f]airy tales do not give the child his first idea of bogey. What fairy tales give the child is his first clear idea of the possible defeat of bogey.”
That is the place where I stand. That is what I believe.
And I find some comfort in the fact that Lovecraft would have hated me, too.
The Secret Of The Banjo’s Twang Revealed By Nobel Prize-Winning Physicist — The Physics arXiv Blog — Medium
I have suspected as much. I tried to tell my father about it. It is nice to see what research shows.
Here I am, back in New Mexico.
Albuquerque this time, not Santa Fe or Los Alamos.
Lots has changed in the past ten years since I came here the first time. So, why does this place affect me like it does?
I think it is because I was so close here. I was so close to fulfilling dreams that I did not even know that I had.
I came here broken. Unsure of myself, but ready to try. Ready to fly. I was literally working on a project whose name translated to “miracle.” And it felt like a miracle that I was even hired.
And as time went on, I grew stronger. I grew more sure of myself. And I remembered some of the happiness that I had lost in Ohio. Only loneliness was my enemy. And eventually, even that changed.
Eventually, I lost it all. I went back to Ohio feeling all the worse for having tasted dreams so sweet.
I got a new job. A better paying one. Worse hours though. And the loneliness is far more complete.
It sent me here for a two week course in accelerator physics. Well, I volunteered. A chance to learn more for my current job, yes. But also a chance to prove to myself that I can make it this time. I can win. I can be happy.
And yet, unless something changes soon, when I leave on Monday I will leave feeling like someone chewed me up and spit me out.
I know now. I cannot come back here until I bring the happiness with me.
The Land of Enchantment showed me what was possible, but I need to bring the raw materials and work on my own milagro.
Notice how happy and awake we look.
Guest Blogger Starling: Schrödinger’s Rapist: or a guy’s guide to approaching strange women without being maced
Originally posted on Shapely Prose:
Gentlemen. Thank you for reading.
Let me start out by assuring you that I understand you are a good sort of person. You are kind to children and animals. You respect the elderly. You donate to charity. You tell jokes without laughing at your own punchlines. You respect women. You like women. In fact, you would really like to have a mutually respectful and loving sexual relationship with a woman. Unfortunately, you don’t yet know that woman—she isn’t working with you, nor have you been introduced through mutual friends or drawn to the same activities. So you must look further afield to encounter her.
So far, so good. Miss LonelyHearts, your humble instructor, approves. Human connection…
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Oh, Chicago! If you get this, I will forgive you for this past winter.
I wrote this a couple of days ago and posted it on G+and Facebook. It seems that people like it.
I fell in love with you when I was but a boy. Your promises of days off from the routine of school, whispers of Christmas, sharing hot cocoa …it was heavenly.
My love for you never dimmed through all these years. Until today.
It’s not you. It’s me.
Oh, who am I kidding? It *is* you.
You have grown so cold and yet so clingy. You insist upon redecorating and cover up anything I do. And you have become so bitter that I can barely stand you!
Also, I must admit it. I have met someone else. She can be mercurial, I admit. Warm one day, cold the next. She can dampen a persons spirits on a moment’s whim or shower him with warmth. She encourages growth instead of stifling it. She makes me glad to be alive.
Her name is Spring. And though I have been told that she cannot stay long, I cherish every moment we have together.
Please understand. And don’t let the door hit you on the way out.