Sock Knight

there's a very large number of things for which the definition basically boils down to "it's this thing because it's this thing."

Thursdays are a social construct. The only defining trait of a thursday is when everyone agrees that the day that is being discussed must be a thursday.

The German word for Friday is Freitag, which includes the word "frei", meaning "free", so when i was a kid, wholly unaware of the nordic origin of the word, the biggest betrayal was that Fridays weren't free.

It doesn't have anything to do with what's beng discussed, but on my first Friday in school i was literally seething all the way through.

There's two kinds of crows that visit our yard.

Funky little guy on his stupid walk for his stupid mental health.

And

I HAVE SEEN EMPIRES RISE AND FALL AND YOURS IS NO DIFFERENT

And we love them both.

@mildlybizarrecorvid which one's you?

It's a little fucked up that the past literally only persists in the form of its traceable effects upon the exact present moment. You would think that surely at least some little bits of the past that can't be deduced from the present state of things would nonetheless still be hanging around in some vague ghostly form, but nope! Completely gone forever! And yet however meanwhile, the present is so very rich in evidence of the past that you would think there's barely any room left for all the proper Now stuff. But somehow it all hangs together.

someone apologized for commenting late… 2 months after the fic was posted 😭😭 girl that’s EARLY thats fresh

times it’s appropriate to comment on a fic:

- if it was written sometime between 10000 years ago and 3 seconds ago

times it’s NOT appropriate to comment on a fic:

-if you’re gonna be mean 🥺

Wow. Ok. I guess we're just excluding immortals now. What if it's been over 10000 years since the fic was posted? There's a lot of fanfics out there. You can't expect me to get to all of them in that timeframe. Totally insensitive honestly!

You are welcome to comment on Gilgameshs epos, there's multiple fields of study dedicated to comment on it and stories similarly old, but i'm afraid the original author no longer reads them.

generally you shouldn't write run-on sentences because they get confusing and it doesn't give the reader a break. that doesn't apply to me though my run-on sentences are fun and understandable and they have a rhythm to it that makes you want to keep reading

Do that when i write stuff for uni, not because it's engaging or easy to read, but because it's a fun way to punish my professors while also showcasing my papers aren't written by AI

You have been kidnapped by an entity above your comprehension, only to find out that you are effectively a rescue animal saved from a very serious disease. Due to how good it all looks, you decide to do everything in your power to be "adopted" into your new forever home.

The mystics, so much is known, guard many secrets. Some are to be shared and thus reliefed of their status, some are to be handed to aspirants as a vital step on their journey, some few are meant to only ever be spoken once or tice in whisper, among the masters or to any unsuspecting individual who, without knowing, was always meant to be the indendet recipient. Only one secret is is never spoken and yet every warlock knows it. Each has to learn it on their own, each then decides to keep quiet.

The gods, it turns out, cannot be reasoned with. So vast are they, so unknowable, the act of talking to us would be akin to us trying to reason with an ant, or perhaps an amoeba. They couldn't reason with us if they tried, and most agree it'd be generally better if they didn't. Yet, eery warlocks patron hast been prompted to bestow them with power.

In my childhood days i would occasionally bring in some animal from the street in hopes of keeping them as a pet. Some i picked up because they were sick or hurt and i wanted to make them better, some others just seemed lonely and i wanted to be their friend. Others looked like they had taking a liking to me and i, already the animal lover, was overjoyed by their own excitement upon seeing me. I kept this little habit of mine as i grew older. With what little magic i learned i attempted to keep my little friends with their little fragile lifes healthy and save; not much, just simple spells for protection and good luck. Of course, and i could have foreseen this had i bothered to engage my learned brain, my favourties soon rose to places of power within their own animal hierarchies. They are the most successful hunters, the strongest protectors, the most likely to survive whatever catastrophy might befall their small republics.

I write these words down on paper to remind me, to humble me, but never to share with another living soul. There really is nothing stopping us to share this information, no oath, no curse except pride. When the clouds parted that day and the stars alligned in the shape of a cosmic eye in a blood red sky, i realized the terrible truth. As i gazed into the abyss, it in turn, considered me rather cute.

Currently writing my BA thesis. I'm so caffeinated, i could serve my blood with sugar and creamer. It's not enough to make me feel awake, but it is enough to keep me awake when i should be asleep. Most days only end when i collapse into bed from exhaustion. I've scheduled my working hours, i go on daily walks and i take time to do something fun every day, it kept me sane longer than most students, but the deadline is on monday; i have entered the end times. No matter what happens, on the first of April i am free, i repeat this thought like a mantra in my head.

My bachelor programm requires two thesis for completion, so next one's lined up for next semester. Fml...

I'm so scared of my thesis also wym you need two thesis/thesisses/thesi? what are you studying

Education or, well, Lehramt, for English and History. I need two because they decided that each subject for my teaching degree should have its own thesis. They're smaller, i only have to write about two thirds of what my gf wrote for her thesis, but sadly that only makes it marginally better.

No worries tho. Researching your topic is gonna be the hardest bit and you're gonna have to go back to it as you write, but the actual writing feels more like busywork

There's a "nobody should have this" type of Rich People Purchases and there's also an "everyone should have this, not just the super-wealthy" type of Rich People Purchases.

There aren't many things i begrudge rich people. Sure, a mega yacht is super unnecessary and bad for the environment and Taylor Swift might wanna stop doing her grocery trips via private jet, but the things i'm actually salty about is land.

The amount of housing that is available and empty because the owner is some bank that doesn't care.

The amount of land that could be developed, needs to be developed, really, but isn't because somebody just sits on it.

Vast swaths of nature are completely unavailable for americans, because the land is private and there's no right to roam.

In austria, private property makes a number of lakes unavailable. Sure, people can exist along the shore regardless of ownership, but that means little when peoples lake houses block access.

At the same time, poor people are driven out of their homes, even those they own, for any new highway expansion; stories like the Hess Triangle are well known but comparatively rare.

There's a finite amount of land on this planet; hording it and making it unavailable to others seems unethical to me.

I bet it feels good as fuuuuck to slightly draw your sword with all the other knights in anger when a treacherous knave shows their face in the court

Sometimes when we're all gathered at the round table i unsheathe my sword ever so slightly so that nobody notices and then i push it back in and then i draw it, slowly, quietly and sheathe it again an- mhm... i just pull it... only a bit andoh god yes- and i- and i- ooouh... into the- mwh..

Alright. So. I have a confession to share with you. In middle school, I strongly identified as a libertarian. In my defense, I was 13 and I had autism. Against my defense, I was literate, and capable of using common sense. I confessed this to you willingly, so go easy on me.

One thing about this that I can share with you is that I, as a 13 year old boy, read Atlas Shrugged. I read it as someone very committed to the ideology, who wanted to believe it, who wanted to like it, and there are two things I can share with you about that book from that time period.

I was going to rant more about this but I kind of lost my train of thought. The book fucking sucks. It was propaganda of such remarkably low caliber that it actually helped me move out of those circles. Every time someone talked about liking the book, I'd reply with something along the lines of "Yeah, I especially loved the part where she destroyed the post modernists by unequivocally condemning affairs", and if they agreed with me, they would have lost my respect forever, and if they looked very embarrassed, I could at least acknowledge that they had a soul, albeit small and malformed. I had dozens of people claim that they read the book, and only three or four actually passed the test.

And now, goodnight.

Reminder that Ayn Rand had many affairs, didn’t get rich and ended up on Medicare, which she applied to under a fraudulent name so people wouldn’t find out about it.

@cuprohastes anytime you reply to a post of mine, you improve it AND give me a fun fact. Mutual of the day award. Thank you.

I read it around the same age because somehow I got the impression that there was a lot of sex in it. I was misled.

Middle school is that horrible period of your life where you’re still a minor and absolutely positively should not be having sex but also are cursed to randomly become so incandescently horny that sifting through 1,200 pages of sub-ChatGPT level prose for five titillating sentences sounds completely reasonable.

If it sounds like I’m making fun of you, I promise I’m not. I went through it too. It was a nightmare.

Despite the utter lack of sexual gratification this book offers, every once in a while you are reminded how insanely horny that woman is

There is a dungeon deemed "coughing baby easy," used by everyone to train rookies, test spells, and as a hangout spot for ordinary children. A roaming frenzied super monster from the MOST dangerous region just took one look at it, froze, became scarily aware of where it was, then fled.

Every hero, no matter how brave, or strong, or chosen, will eventually meet an enemy they cannot conquer. After half a lifetime of travelling and slaying, old age will lay its heavy arms on every heroes limbs, slowing their strikes and weakening their backs as they transition into the latter half of their life. A hero doesn't get to grow old by brute strength alone, so when age rears its gray head, most of them hang up the sowrd and turn to teaching instead.

There never is a shortage of young adventurers, ready to take on the world and defeat whatever villains pop up along the way, though there always is a shortage in wisdom among them and doubly so in training. To ensure young adventurers will eventually become old adventurers, the starting dungeon is hardly more than a cave with a couple training summies strewn throughout. For many years now, the scariest monster the cave has seen were under developed slimes and the occasional overgrown rat, until, that is, a basilisk slithered its way inside.

If you ask an adventurer why they retired, it's never quite the answer you expect. Many prompt that question in hopes of a grand story of their last adventurer and are sorely disappointed to hear "Bad knee." "Sleeping outside hurts my back now." ranks under the top five reasons for retirement, same as athritis. They all share one commonality: None retired quite voluntarily, they're all adrenaline junkies in dire need of a fix.

The basilisk stared into the cavern and the cavern stared back in the longest second of the poor basilisks life. The gaze of the most famed and legendary heroes of a generation all rested on the basilisk. Somebody had dropped a pound of heroin into the rehab clinic; pandemonium was soon to follow.

Ever monster, no matter how big, or scaly, or venomous, will eventually meet an enemy they cannot conquer...

"I got your coffee, boss. Sorry about the wait, the cafe was packed," the henchman said as they entered the room, only to pause as they saw the heroes standing over the bloodied corpses of their boss and their co-workers.

Every enterprise carries risk of failure and nobody is aware of this truth as criminals. Increase your bets, you may win and be set up for life, you may lose and be set up for a cozy little room with barred windows for an equal length of time, or lose your life alltogether. This is doubly true for villainy.

Every criminal and every cop carries a gun and a twitchy finger. Every Supervillain and superhero carrie the equivalent of an arsenal, in some way or another, and although battles seem grand and romantic, the sad reality is, that people often die during ordinary barfights. This one, one of the many Superman knock-offs, judging from the design, just won a bar fight.

"Suppose you're out of a job.", he said flatly with the vacant look of a drunkard who watched his opponent tumble and split his head oppen on the pavement.

"Suppose i am." Bill said, handing him a coffee. "Benefits weren#t great though.

He could avenge his fellows, of course, but why? In a week he'd be working for the next maniac with delusions of grandeur and be some other heroes problem and the kid would find another villain to fight. Circle of life sorta shit. You can try to disrupt it, but that'd risk his kids growing up without a dad and they were already growing up without money.

"Sorry for your friends.", the hero said.

"They were more like coworkers to me.", Billd said. "My private and professional life don't mix."

there's like a thousand posts about it on this site but it bears reiterating that the reason a lot of Americans will specify which state they come from rather than simply saying that they are from the US is simple. it's because, despite the relative physical proximity, someone from Massachusetts and someone from New York are basically two wholly different breeds of person. and neither is human.

Many americans seem to think the US to be default while people from other countries tend not to think of their own country the same. If i meet another german in the wild and they ask where i'm from, i'd also answer with my state or any larger city closeby, but most other people globally wouldn't know what a Saxony-Anhalt or Magdeburg is supposed to be