Open Thread, don’t be an asshole. Thanks.
Open Thread, don’t be an asshole. Thanks.
Good tools are important. Having the right tools is very important too. I can highly recommend the Staedtler sharpener (mine is in obvious need of a clean). It works beautifully and renders a very sharp tip. Speaking of sharp tips, everyone who has worked with pencil, colour or not, is familiar with point breakage during drawing. This sends tiny bits of core all over the place. If you’re working in ordinary pencil, it’s not a major deal if it smears, as it’s easily erased. That is so not the case with colour pencils, Prismacolor in particular. Normally, I use a fox tail brush to clean, but these can cause problems with colour pencils, in that no matter how lightly you wield one, it’s still heavy enough to cause many a smear. The solution? Feathers. I use 3 types of feather. Not only can you pick up minuscule bits of pencil with them, they are very good to brush an area of your work without smearing. The turkey feather is the lightest, and excellent at picking up bits; the other two are stiffer, with more weight, and good for an overall sweep. If you have a bunch of bits and dust, gently press the feather down on them, and it will pick them up. Don’t forget to clean your feather after. Just using your fingers on the feathers works fine.
Living rural, I don’t have to go far to find feathers, but if you’re deep in an urbanscape, feathers of all types are easily found in craft stores. The benefit there is that you can buy feathers by the bag, so you’ll have more than enough for your needs.
ETA:
22 seconds in the microwave, kept all the info. Just sharpened it, seems to have worked. This was also a sharp reminder of a major failing on my part – not paying attention. I’m so colour focused, I completely ignore observing the condition of the pencil. Now that I had a very good look at this one, there are a number of gouges and scores, particularly on the ‘back’ of it, and there was a suspicious piece transparent tape, too. So, while it’s good to know you can fix your pencil up, it pays to be very observant of the pencil itself before you bring it home.
These are my recollections of a life behind the iron curtain. I do not aim to give perfect and objective evaluation of anything, but to share my personal experiences and memories. It will explain why I just cannot get misty eyed over some ideas on the political left and why I loathe many ideas on the right.
This is another one of the issues where the current US divide between left and right amuses me greatly. If you ever saw the movie “Red Heat” you will probably remember Arnold Schwarzenegger in his role as a Soviet agent turning on TV in a cheap American hotel and upon seeing porn uttering the word “Capitalism!” with utmost sneer in his voice. That scene rings so true to me.
The regime’s attitude to sex and sex education was abysmal. You see, sex is pleasurable to the individual, and as such informing the populace about how it is supposed to work could not be easily spun into a way to advance the greater good. Pornography was illegal and erotica very strictly regulated. And sex education almost non-existent.
Well, that is not entirely true. Sex ed was compulsory. But non-existent at the same time.
In the seventh class of elementary school, the biology classes were focused on human anatomy. Towards the end of the year part of the curriculum was about sexual and reproductive organs and some sex education thrown in.
The sex education part was gender segregated. Girls were shown some educational video whose details I do not know. Some boys tried to listen at the windows and from them I know that it probably consisted mostly of information about expected changes in body chemistry and shape during puberty, and nothing more.
Boys had even less informative session, which I missed completely due to illness. All I know from highly bemused accounts from my schoolmates is that instead of the rather good diagrams in books the whole issue was explained on a picture of a tulip. Really. Bees and flowers. At school. In 1980s.
At no point whatsoever were the “technicalities” of sex mentioned. No mention of consent and how it is supposed to work, no mention about how condoms are used and what other options of contraception there are, no mention of how the body parts actually fit into each other. So all of this info had to be learned from surroundings, either from family members or from peers. Which has of course led to great variation between individuals.
Info about consent came mostly from media and from peers, with all the masculine garbage that is the stupid “yes means yes, no means try harder”.
Use of condoms had everybody to gleam from rare articles that might be written in some magazine for adults or to figure out for themselves. Oh, and the stupid “it’s woman’s responsibility to not get pregnant” was part of the package too.
How the sex itself is supposed to work everybody learned from pornographic magazines smuggled in from west. People who did not get lucky to see porn or grow up in the country might end up completely unable to actually perform sexual act properly, as was attested in the book Lidská sexualita (Human sexuality) by sexuologist Ivo Pondělíček and his wife Jaroslava Pondělíčková-Mašlová, who bemoaned that in the 1970’s multiple adult pairs came through his office who were unable to conceive child and during the courses he learned that they did not even know that for a woman to conceive the penis must enter the vagina. At least one such pair were people with university diplomas.
All in all it is no wonder that in my relatively small social circle I knew two girls who became pregnant shortly after the age of consent (15 years) and that it was all too common that girls got pregnant and married quite young. There are no precise statistics, because the regime did not keep tabs on things that reflected on it unfavourably, but I would not be suprised if today’s Texas came out better in this regard.
I tried to make it work on the piece, but it just didn’t come together, so I got to start all over again. If, like me, you tend to get abnormally attached to a certain colour, get as many as you can, it will save you much aggravation in the long run.
Self-styled prophetess Kat Kerr has a special staff for controlling the weather. And the authority, from her buddy Jesus. Unfortunately, they both seem to wandering about with very limp authority.
On Memorial Day, Alberto was heading toward the southern United States and Kerr used her “weather warrior staff” to declare that the storm would dissipate and not cause any flooding, damage, or deaths.
“I, as a believer of Jesus Christ, I take authority over that storm,” Kerry declared. “I say to you storm, ‘You will diminish.’”
There has been many a time when I’ve rested my cheek on a window and yelled at the universe over the 3rd bloody blizzard in a month, and it’s never done a bit of good. Maybe I need a special weather warrior staff. I suppose a ridiculously skimpy costume might be needed too.
“You are going to hear reports of it being downgraded because it has to obey us,” she guaranteed. […] “You will not do destruction to your country,” Kerr told the storm. “You will not bring flooding rains. We command the rain to cease.”
Unfortunately, this authority business didn’t work at all. [one, two, three.] Good thing I didn’t spend money on that weather warrior staff. Well, that disobedient Storm Alberto didn’t deter Kat from giving it another go, this time with a volcano.
Kerr also commanded the volcano that has been erupting on Hawaii’s largest island for over a month now to stop flowing.
“We have authority over volcanoes,” she said. “We can even tell them to stop. Christ stopped the storm. So while we’re taking power and authority over the devil controlling that volcano—people are going to be laughing about this, I totally ignore them. Just ignore them. They don’t know what they’re saying and they don’t even know what’s going on. They don’t understand spirit realm authority. They don’t understand that Jesus made us joint heirs, but I do.”
You might understand spirit realm authority, Ms. Kerr, but as all its properties amount to nothing, zip, zilch, nada, who gives a fuck? You can shake your stick all you like, but it’s not going to an effect on a volcano.
“So I take authority over that volcano,” Kerr declared. “I command it to cease exploding, shooting out the lava, that the pressure be released but without any destruction to people. I command that lava, you will stop flowing and you will crystallize before you touch any more people or their property.”
Crystallize? You looking for a nice staff topper or something? Oh, maybe that’s your problem – there’s no knob on the end! Oh wait, you have to be a wizard for that one. Tsk. It seems the volcano isn’t interested in hearing you out, Kat. Perhaps if you put on a skimpy outfit a la Storm, slap a crystal on that staff, and stand on the rim…hey, it might work!
RWW has the full story, and another video.
Click for full size. I like the way Death addresses them as Mr. King and Mrs. Queen.
Todt zum König:
Herr König Ewr G’walt hat ein End,
Ich führ euch hie bey meiner Hend,
An diesen dürren Brüder-Tantz,
Da gibt man euch deß Todes-Krantz.
Death to The king:
Mr. King, your power has an end,
I lead you here by my hand
to this dance with dry brothers.
There they’ll give you the death-garland.
Der König:
Ich hab gewaltiglich gelebt,
Und in hohen Ehren geschwebt:
Nun bin ich in deß Todtes Banden,
Verstricket sehr in seinen Handen.
The king:
I have lived powerfully
and hovered in high honour.
Now I’m in Death’s bond,
caught in his hands.
Todt zur Königin:
Fraw Königin Euwr Frewd ist auß,
Springen mit mir ins Todten-Hauß,
Euch hilfft kein Schöne, Gold noch Gelt,
Ich spring mit euch in jene Welt.
Death to The Queen:
Mrs. Queen, your joy has ended,
dance with me into the death-house.
Neither beauty, gold nor money will help you.
I’m dancing with you into the next world.
Die Königin:
O Weh vnd Ach, O weh vnd jmmer,
Wo ist jetzund mein Frawenzimmer,
Mit denen ich hatt Frewden viel:
O Todt thu g’mach, mit mir nicht eyl.
The queen:
Oh woe and alas, oh woe for ever.
Where is now my band of maids
with whom I had many pleasures?
Oh Death, take it easy, don’t hurry with me.
