Etherwraith - Dead Air - Tumblr Blog

Not that I should particularly care about this news as an Australian, but I'm pumped to experience my first "find out big world news via Tumblr" moment.

Biden dropped out, can you be the next president please

It would never work, I lack the raw sexual energy that Biden had in spades

I’m about to save you thousands of dollars in therapy by teaching you what I learned paying thousands of dollars for therapy:

It may sound woo woo but it’s an important skill capitalism and hyper individualism have robbed us of as human beings.

Learn to process your emotions. It will improve your mental health and quality of life. Emotions serve a biological purpose, they aren’t just things that happen for no reason.

1. Pause and notice you’re having a big feeling or reaching for a distraction to maybe avoid a feeling. Notice what triggered the feeling or need for a distraction without judgement. Just note that it’s there. Don’t label it as good or bad.

2. Find it in your body. Where do you feel it? Your chest? Your head? Your stomach? Does it feel like a weight everywhere? Does it feel like you’re vibrating? Does it feel like you’re numb all over?

3. Name the feeling. Look up an emotion chart if you need to. Find the feeling that resonates the most with what you’re feeling. Is it disappointment? Heartbreak? Anxiety? Anger? Humiliation?

4. Validate the feeling. Sometimes feelings misfire or are disproportionately big, but they’re still valid. You don’t have to justify what you’re feeling, it’s just valid. Tell yourself “yeah it makes sense that you feel that right now.” Or something as simple as “I hear you.” For example: If I get really big feelings of humiliation when I lose at a game of chess, the feeling may not be necessary, but it is valid and makes sense if I grew up with parents who berated me every time I did something wrong. So I could say “Yeah I understand why we are feeling that way given how we were treated growing up. That’s valid.”

5. Do something with your body that’s not a mental distraction from the feeling. Something where you can still think. Go on a walk. Do something with your hands like art or crochet or baking. Journal. Clean a room. Figure out what works best for you.

6. Repeat, it takes practice but is a skill you can learn :)

I’m about to save you thousands of dollars in therapy by teaching you what I learned paying thousands of dollars for therapy:

It may sound woo woo but it’s an important skill capitalism and hyper individualism have robbed us of as human beings.

Learn to process your emotions. It will improve your mental health and quality of life. Emotions serve a biological purpose, they aren’t just things that happen for no reason.

1. Pause and notice you’re having a big feeling or reaching for a distraction to maybe avoid a feeling. Notice what triggered the feeling or need for a distraction without judgement. Just note that it’s there. Don’t label it as good or bad.

2. Find it in your body. Where do you feel it? Your chest? Your head? Your stomach? Does it feel like a weight everywhere? Does it feel like you’re vibrating? Does it feel like you’re numb all over?

3. Name the feeling. Look up an emotion chart if you need to. Find the feeling that resonates the most with what you’re feeling. Is it disappointment? Heartbreak? Anxiety? Anger? Humiliation?

4. Validate the feeling. Sometimes feelings misfire or are disproportionately big, but they’re still valid. You don’t have to justify what you’re feeling, it’s just valid. Tell yourself “yeah it makes sense that you feel that right now.” Or something as simple as “I hear you.” For example: If I get really big feelings of humiliation when I lose at a game of chess, the feeling may not be necessary, but it is valid and makes sense if I grew up with parents who berated me every time I did something wrong. So I could say “Yeah I understand why we are feeling that way given how we were treated growing up. That’s valid.”

5. Do something with your body that’s not a mental distraction from the feeling. Something where you can still think. Go on a walk. Do something with your hands like art or crochet or baking. Journal. Clean a room. Figure out what works best for you.

6. Repeat, it takes practice but is a skill you can learn :)

I love being in IT

I'm not in a habit of reblogging fanfic, but as a Star Wars fan, I find this is just so monumentally funny. It's the polar opposite to the 'Darth Jar Jar puts the final nail in Democracy's coffin' fanfics.

Tartle

“Therefore…” Jar Jar said, swallowing slightly to get over his nerves. “Mesa propose given emergency powers, to…”

Then his mind went completely blank.

He couldn’t remember the name of the guy he was meant to be giving emergency powers to.

He couldn’t remember the name of the guy’s office.

Boss? No, no, that wasn’t right… big bombad boss-man? No, that wasn’t it either!

The whole room seemed caught in a singing tension, and Jar Jar wasn’t sure if he was thinking quickly or if everyone was staring at him and that just made it worse.

Then he had a sudden realization.

The point of these emergency powers was to make it so they could rescue Padme and Anakin and Obi-Wan – and the boss guy whose name he couldn’t remember hadn’t wanted them, he’d said so, he’d just said it was necessary to cut through all of the gridlocken arguing.

But – but it didn’t have to be the boss man guy.

“-Jedi Master Yoda!” Jar Jar finished, in a gasp, then practically collapsed back on the seat of the senate pod.

Cheers and shouts immediately filled the Senate hall, calling for the approval of the motion, and Jar Jar swallowed because he felt short of breath.

This public speakin’ business was way scarier than fighting an army! And that was plenty scary enough itself, too…

Palpatine’s eyes twitched, and he forced himself to relax his hand.

He had been… outplayed. Disastrously so. In a way he had absolutely not anticipated.

That idiot gungan had seemed like the perfect patsy, and it had been so important to his plans that everyone agree with the need for the emergency powers… and that nobody suspect how much he dearly wanted and needed the authority to cut through the factionalism in the Senate.

It had taken decades of work to create that factionalism, of encouraging different groups to vote strategically to obfuscate their preferred courses of action on different subjects, so that nobody but himself was aware that three quarters of the Senate would vote according to his wishes because so many of them were persuaded that he was their highest placed and most secret ally.

All to create the gridlock that emergency powers would be needed to cut through.

But now… now that idiot gungan had ruined everything. Someone had pulled his strings so masterfully that Palpatine couldn’t even see them.

sorry yeah ive got a bad case of Thinking About My Friends. im afraid its incurable. symptoms include happiness and love and wishes that they will have the life they want to live.

theres something about being disabled and needing to sit down constantly in public spaces that makes you notice how often benches are put up as tributes and memorials. and before i hit an age where i really started to need them as frequently i think i never fully understood the sentiment but now its become very endearing to me. a bit of relief and care for you in the name of someone who offered us the same… i dont think i had a point with this post but i hope everyone thats been memorialized as such knows how loved they were to become synonymous with respite even to total strangers

It always gets me that the name "Gandalf" literally just means "Wand-Elf" or "Stick-Elf". I'm imagining old Gondorians just being like:

Librarian: I saw that weird guy at the library again today.

Guard 1: What weird guy?

Librarian: The old guy with the beard? Kinda elfy-looking, apart from the beard?

Guard 1: Oh, with the big-ass stick?

Librarian: Yeah, looked like he was carrying an entire tree branch.

Guard 2: Yeah, that's the Stick Elf.

Guard 1: Hell yeah, I fuckin' love the Stick Elf.

Librarian: The "Stick Elf"?

Guard 2: He comes by every few years, usually after some weird book or other.

Librarian: Oh. Yeah, he wanted a treatise on goblin breeding habits.

Guard 2: Like, how they have sex? We have books on that?

Librarian: Yeah, turns out we do. I was as surprised as you are.

Guard 1: What'd the Stick Elf need a fuckin' goblin-fuckin' book for?

Librarian: I didn't ask. So you just call him "Stick Elf"?

Guard 2: I mean, he looks kinda elfy and he always has that stick, so, like, yeah.

Guard 1: Dude also has some fuckin' dope pipeweed.

Guard 2: Oh yeah, his pipeweed is awesome.

Librarian: How long has he been coming here?

Guard 2: Oh, for decades. He's, like, super old.

Guard 1: More like fuckin' centuries. Dude's old as balls.

Guard 2: Wait, really?

Guard 1: Yeah, my gran-gran used to talk about him. She loved his pipeweed too.

Librarian: So he's… an immortal pipeweed dealer?

Guard 2: I think he's just, like, a connoisseur. He doesn't sell it or anything. He just always has some really top-notch pipeweed on him.

Archivist: Oh, are we talking about Stick Elf?

Guard 1: Hell yeah we are!

Librarian: You know about the Stick Elf, too?

Archivist: Oh, totally. Stick-Elf's a super chill dude. Gave me some awesome pipeweed when I was maybe 12, and tee-bee-aitch I think I'm still a little buzzed from it.

Guard 1: What'd I tell ya, fuckin' dope pipeweed!

Archivist: Also he's really old.

Guard 1: Old as balls.

Librarian: Yeah, so Éodan and Jenniforomir were telling me.

Archivist: My grandpa used to tell me stories - he said one time he saw Stick Elf enter a smoke-ring contest.

Guard 1: Ooh, I'll bet he kicked fuckin' ass.

Archivist: Apparently the guy made an entire warship out of smoke and it flew around shooting down the other rings.

Librarian: And how much of this "fuckin' dope" pipeweed had your grandfather had by this point?

Guard 1: No no, that's totally plausible. Dude's got weird elf powers and shit for sure.

Archivist: He brought fireworks for the king's birthday one year, too.

Guard 1: Oh fuck, I forgot about those! Fuckin' incredible fireworks! Dragons and knights and glowy trees and shit! I was fuckin' 6 years old or something, they totally blew my mind. Hey Éodan, did you see that shit?

Guard 2: No, I think that's before I lived in Gondor.

Guard 1: Wait, you're not from here?

Guard 2: Oh, no, I grew up in Rohan. We moved here when I was, like, thirteen because my uncle Éojeff said he could get my dad a sweet job. And also that there were houses that didn't smell like horseshit.

Guard 1: Oh shit, are you related to Éojeff and Éosteve who run that æbleskiver stand on Norndîl St?

Guard 2: Yeah, they're my uncles!

Guard 1: Shit, they cook a fuckin' great æbleskiver!

Librarian: Ok, hold up a sec, "Stick Elf" can't possibly be his real name.

Guard 1: Why not?

Librarian: What? You think his parents named him in the hopes that he would carry around a fucking tree when he got older?

Guard 2: Maybe they gave him the tree when he was born!

Archivist: I don't think a baby could carry that stick.

Guard 1: You ever seen a baby hanging onto something? They're hella strong.

Archivist: It's not a strength thing, their hands are tiny. That staff is enormous!

Guard 1: My halberd's bigger 'n I am, I can hold it just fine.

Archivist: You're not a baby.

Librarian: Also why would elf parents name their kid "stick ELF"?! Presumably they know that their kid's going to be an elf!

Archivist: Is he actually an elf? I didn't think they grew beards.

Guard 1: How'd he get old as balls if he's not an elf?

Guard 2: His ears aren't that pointy. Maybe he's just a really old guy? Like, a Numémoriam or something?

Guard 1: Did you just say "Numémoriam"?

Guard 2: Nûnenorman? Munimõrbitan? Y'know, those guys like the king that can get super old.

Guard 1: You mean the fuckin' Númenóreans?

Guard 2: Yeah, the Númenóreums.

Archivist: Even the Númenóreans don't live THAT long.

Guard 1: Plus he carries that fuckin' stick around.

Guard 2: Wait, what does the stick have to do with it?

Guard 1: That's an elf thing. Y'know, trees and shit? Very elfy.

Librarian: Ok, look, but his parents naming him "Stick Elf" would be weird whether or not he's an elf. In fact, it's even weirder if he's not - what human names their kid "elf"?

Archivist: Huh. Yeah, you're right, he probably does have another name.

Guard 2: Yeah, I guess so.

Librarian: He's been coming here for decades and nobody's ever asked his real name?

Archivist: I dunno what to tell you, he's Stick Elf. Even his library card just says 'Stick Elf'.

Guard 1: Fuck yeah, the Stick Elf!

Guard 2: Maybe we could, like, ask him his name sometime?

Guard 1: Hey, look, Elrond's over there. He's old as balls too, maybe he knows?

Guard 2: Oh, we shouldn't interru-

Guard 1: HEY ELROND, YOU'RE OLD AS BALLS, RIGHT? WHAT'S THAT OLD ELF WITH THE STICK'S NAME?

Elrond (coming over): Do you mean an old man cloaked all in grey and blue, leaning on a rough-cut staff, who came to the great library this day?

Guard 1: Yeah, the Stick-Elf!

Guard 2: (Sorry to bother you, sir...)

Librarian: He's got to have a real name besides 'the Stick Elf', right?

Elrond: Indeed, for no elf is he. You speak of the wizard Olórin, wisest of the Maiar, older even than Eä itself. Many are his names in many countries: Tharkûn among the Dwarves; Incánus to the south; Mithrandir he is called among my people, the Grey Pilgrim.

Librarian: Oh.

Elrond: And here in the North he is called Stick-Elf.

Librarian: Oh.

Guard 1: Fuck yeah!

follow your dreams at a sustainable pace

Whoever conceived and animated this moment, I hope they're doing well and thriving. This is S-rank romance stuff here.

Reminder to please, please, please skip outdoor rodenticide when handling rodent infestations.

I delude myself into thinking I could brush up on my high-school Italian to not offend people if I went on a trip to Italy

I don't know, how about switching it off?

"Love and sex make us human"

Wrong. Most animals fuck. Some reproduce without a partner. Then there are some that can choose not to fuck (like those that remain in their pride or family and forfeit the right to mate in exchange for safety).

Definitely a lot of them love. In their own way or even our way. Like... so many birds mate for life. Humans only wish for that marriage success rate...

Love and sex don't make us human. The absence of them doesn't make us human.

You know what makes us human?

COOKING.

Humans are the only creatures in existence to cook their food. To have a culinary culture. To purposefully change the molecular structure of their sustenance for fun, art, and pleasure.

So, in a way, at the root of it, is pizza over sex and romance.

Pizza makes us human.

🍕

Cute little ears, too!

im just saying, i would be able to see an arctic fox if there was one nearby. i know what an animal looks like

Another thing I've noticed working as a children's librarian is like... kids get so Paralyzed By Choice and the adults in their lives never really register why. Like, for example, we have little scavenger hunt sheets in the children's section and when a kid completes it, they get to pick out a cute eraser from our prize basket. We also have a little toy prize chest as part of our "1000 books before Kindergarten" challenge for when kids complete 100 books--and kids will spend minutes carefully picking through everything while their parents are shooting us anxious looks like "sorry they're taking so long! I know this is silly and it's completely ridiculous that my child is taking so long to choose between a bath toy and a cube puzzle because these are cheap and arbitrary objects! Hurry up, Harper! Just pick something! You're embarrassing me!!" But in the kids' perspective, they already have so little control over what objects come into their lives, and in this case, the object represents labor and effort on their end, so of course they feel they must choose very carefully. I've always been an anxious and indecisive person, so it's striking to see how being rushed really doesn't help that and really only makes it harder for kids to figure out what they want.

Hot chips gang REPRESENT

I keep seeing people say "play Outer Wilds, no, I can't tell you anything about it". Bitch. It's an exploration game about astronauts fucking around in space, doing archeology, astrology astronomy and science, with the gameplay itself consisting mostly of navigation in various 3D spaces with your legs or your trusty spaceship. There are interesting characters and tantalizing mysteries. It will require a fair bit of reading and thinking, it will sometimes test your speed, reflexes and precision. The story is about curiosity, courage, compassion, music, death, rebirth, and the terrifying vastness of space. The game can induce agoraphobia, claustrophobia, fear of heights, fear of depths and that which is unseen or hidden. Your character has four eyes and can roast marshmallows on any bonfire. Bitch.