you know what actually pisses me off? when I finally start to feel a smidge of confidence in my writing ability and then some JERK POSTS A SINGLE LINE FROM A TERRY PRATCHETT NOVEL AND IT’S BETTER THAN ANYTHING I WILL EVER WRITE NO MATTER HOW MANY MILLENNIA I SPEND TRYING!
Terry was a professional writer from the age of 17. He worked as a journalist which meant that he had to learn to research, write and edit his own work very quickly or else he’d lose his job.
He was 23 when his first novel was published. After six years of writing professionally every single day. The Carpet People was a lovely novel, from a lovely writer, but almost all of Terry’s iconic truth bomb lines come from Discworld.
The Colour of Magic, the first ever Discworld novel was published in 1983. Terry was 35 years old. He had been writing professionally for 18 years. His career was old enough to vote, get married and drink. We now know that at 35 he was, tragically, over half way through his life. And do you know what us devoted, adoring Discworld fans say about The Colour of Magic? “Don’t start with Colour of Magic.”
It is the only reading order rule we ever give people. Because it’s not that great. Don’t get me wrong, very good book, although I’ll be honest I’ve never been able to finish it, but it’s nowhere near his later stuff. Compare it to Guards Guards, The Fifth Elephant, the utterly iconic Nightwatch and it pales in comparison because even after nearly 20 years of writing, half a lifetime of loving books and storytelling Terry was still learning.
He was a man with a wonderful natural talent, yes. But more importantly he worked and worked and worked to be a better writer. He was writing up until days before he died. He spent 49 years learning and growing as a writer, taking so much joy in storytelling that not even Alzheimer’s could steal it from him. He wouldn’t want that joy stolen from you too.
Terry was a wonderful, kind, compassionate, genius of a writer. And all of this was in spite of many many people telling him he wasn’t good enough. At the age of five his headmaster told him that he would never amount to anything. He died a knight of the realm and one of the most beloved writers ever to have lived in a country with a vast and rich literary tradition. He wouldn’t let anyone tell him that he wasn’t good enough. And he wouldn’t want you to think you aren’t good enough. He especially wouldn’t want to be the reason why you think you aren’t good enough.
You’re not Terry Pratchett.
You are you.
And Terry would love that.
I only ever had a chance to talk to Terry Pratchett once, and that was in an autograph line. I’d bought a copy of The Carpet People, which was his very first book, and he looked at it with a faint air of concern. “You realise that I wrote that when I was very young,” he said, in warning.
“Yes,” I said. “But I like seeing how authors grow.”
He brightened and reached for his pen. “That’s all right then,” he said, and signed.
Finding out that Frances Dana Barker Gage, a white woman, rewrote Sojourner Truth’s famous speech to be more stereotypically “Southern slave” (complete with slurs and misspellings like dat, dere, dey) when Sojourner Truth was actually from New York and spoke only Dutch until she was almost ten and wouldn’t have actually sounded that way linguistically and decidedly did not use the phrase “Ain’t I A Woman?” at all is…whew. And on top of everything, she embellished details about Sojourner Truth’s life (like the number of children she had/how many of them were sold into slavery), wrote that ST said that she could take beatings like a man, and the reception of the speech in the room (she claims ST was called a n*gg*r, earlier accounts say the room was welcoming).
Lmaooo peak white feminist antics.
You can read the most accurate transcript here, alongside the racist edited one.
I was already disgusted just reading about this but looking at the side-by-side comparison of the real speech and the rewrite really brought it home.
look, im just a slut for some magical exhaustion okay give me your whumpees overusing their magic and having physical repercussions from it, bloody noses, unable to stand, getting progressively weaker, utterly exhausted and spent !!
bonus points: if they know they are running low on magic but they have no choice but to keep using more until they just collapse
bonus bonus points: if their magic is somehow connected to their life force!!
dude seeing these Mega high quality images of the surface of mars that we now have has me fucked up. Like. Mars is a place. mars is a real actual place where one could hypothetically stand. It is a physical place in the universe. ITS JUST OUT THERE LOOKING LIKE UH IDK A REGULAR OLD DESERT WITH LOTS OF ROCKS BUT ITS A WHOLE OTHER PLANET?
LIKE THIS JUST LOOKS LIKE IT COULD BE A PERSON’S BACKYARD. LIKE YEA A LITTLE DUSTY MAYBE THERE WAS A SANDSTORM BUT THAT’S COOL I’M JUST GONNA WALK DOWN TO THE STORE P S Y C H YOU’RE ON MARS BICH!
This fight always reminds me that Jackie Chan is truly a modern day Chaplin/Keaton. When recognizing physical comedians, Jackie has to be considered a modern king. This concept is so simple. STICKY FLOOR. That’s about it. And yet he makes absolute magic out of it. He gives us a solid fight sequence, genuine humor and some cheeky, sexy stuff. Everything you want, really. This fight might not be the most ferocious action sequence he’s done but, as far as comedic ideas go, this one is up there I think. It’s great.
The fight is from The Myth which I’m not going to post a link to because it’s not very good. It has three great action sequences in it (including this one). Track it down at your own peril.
+++
people underestimate Jackie Chan as a physical comedian
Aries: A knight in armor made of glittering emerald chitin. Blades wielded in reverse, fighting with an alien grace.
Taurus: Towering knights decked in the hides of long-dead beasts. Colossal greatbows hewn from ancient oak trees heft arrows that could split a man in two.
Gemini: Proud knights, gilded chains worked into their helmets to resemble a lions mane. Their stature a demonstration of the wealth and power of their empress.
Cancer: A holy knight (of sorts). Their ceremonial hammer cocooned in spines, their armor blackened with soot.
Leo: A bodyguard. A legendary elite, now forgotten to the march of time. They wander the halls of the palace, now frozen and abandoned, searching for their young lord.
Virgo: Knights veiled in silk, every inch of their skin is covered. Their armor host to a hive of stinging insects. Long, thin, swords for piercing maille, the tip soaked in poison with intoxicating effects.
Libra: Sorcerer knights of a far western land. Pointed scarlet helmets and long barbed torches that function as halberd and a conduit for spells. Their armor jingles with medals and pendants covered in arcane scribbles.
Scorpio: A lonely knight in a thick cloak, illuminated only by the lantern they carry, light glinting off the silver spade in their other hand. They patrol the field of corpses, scanning for signs of movement.
Ophiuchus: Zealots of a forbidden faith. Slaves to their fervor, masks made from shed skin. Young, feeble wings stitched to their shoulder blades.
Sagittarius: Knights from an age of powder and shot. Sloped armor deflecting rounds as if they were blades. A shield on one arm, a revolver on the other.
Capricorn: A knight with heavily reinforced gauntlets. Forgoing weapons and shields for simply bashing opponents with their fists.
Aquarius: Trailblazers and pathfinders. Bows and axes double as weapons and survival tools. Old, dog eared books of spells, hand drawn maps folded into the pages. Searching for their lost brethren.
Pisces: Dancing knights. Flexible pikes used to vault over bulwarks. Bags and straps full of daggers and firebombs. Colorful domino masks a nod to their origins.
I was told by my professors that Kitty Genovese was a 28-year-old unmarried woman who was attacked, raped, and brutally murdered on her way home from her shift as manager of a bar. I was told that numerous people witnessed the attack and her cries for help but didn’t do anything because they “assumed someone else would”. Nobody intervened until it was too late.
Now… is it likely that people overheard Kitty’s cries for help and ignored them because they thought someone else would deal with it? Or, perhaps, did they ignore her because they knew she was a lesbian and just didn’t care?
Maybe that’s not the case. Maybe it was just a random attack. Maybe her neighbours didn’t know she was gay, or didn’t care.
But it’s a huge chunk of information to leave out about her in a supposedly scientific study of events, since her sexuality made her much more vulnerable to violent crimes than the average person. And it’s a dishonour to her memory.
RIP Kitty Genovese. Society may only remember you for how you died, but I will remember you for who who were.
this was one of the first lessons I had in psych too and we were never told about this either nor was it in any of the reading materials
I never knew this.
I also never knew this about Kitty Genovese, but I do know that, in fact, many of the dozen (not thirty-eight) people who witnessed some part of the attack (which took place after 3AM, on a chilly night in March when most people’s windows were closed) tried to help in some way.
One shouted out his window for the attacker to leave her alone, which did successfully scare the man off temporarily.
Another called the police but, seeing her still on her feet, said only that there had been a fight but the woman seemed to be okay.
And when Kitty Genovese was finally attacked in a vestibule where she couldn’t be seen from outside, Karl Ross, a neighbor, saw what was happening but was too frightened himself to go to her rescue–so he started calling other neighbors to ask what he should do. Eventually one of them told him to call the police, which he did, and the woman he called, Sophie Farrar, rushed out to help Kitty even though she didn’t know whether the attacker was gone.
Kitty Genovese died in the arms of a neighbor who tired to help and comfort her while they waited for the police and ambulance to arrive. Kitty was in fact still alive, although mortally wounded, when the ambulance reached the scene.
The man who saw the final stabbing? Who panicked and called other neighbors first instead of the police? The man who said, infamously, that he “didn’t want to get involved” because he was reluctant to turn to the police for help? He was thought to be gay himself. He was a friend of Kitty and Mary Ann’s. After being interviewed by the police he took a bottle of vodka to Mary Ann and sat with her, trying to comfort her.
So, no. I don’t think the evidence indicates that Kitty Genovese’s neighbors let her die because she was a lesbian, because Kitty Genovese’s neighbors tried to help.
(Also, going by the content of the murderer’s confession, it was indeed a random attack.)
how on EARTH was this “scientifically” studied but the details gotten so wrong and the wrong as hell conclusion published and taught in schools?!?!?! where were those scientists observation skills?! on vacation?!
How to take facts and turn them into an urban legend that gets taught in schools: Make a bad made-for-t.v.-movie about it, watch it, believe everything the movie says, annnnnnnd go! That’s how it gets taught as this supposed “scientific study.” Someone got fucking lazy.
Consulting Witch 