some people think writers are so eloquent and good with words, but the reality is that we can sit there with our fingers on the keyboard going, “what’s the word for non-sunlight lighting? Like, fake lighting?” and for ten minutes, all our brain will supply is “unofficial”, and we know that’s not the right word, but it’s the only word we can come up with…until finally it’s like our face got smashed into a brick wall and we remember the word we want is “artificial”.
I couldn’t remember the word “doorknob” ten minutes ago.
ok but the onelook thesaurus will save your life, i literally could not live without this website
REBLOG TO SAVE A WRITER’S LIFE
LIFE SAVED
REBLOGGING TO SAVE ANOTHER WRITERS LIFE
I use this every time I sit down to write. It’s the best tool in the world and I would be lost without it!
“It sucks that I understand Time Cube and as such cannot avoid becoming a genocidal dictator,” young Paul Atreides said to himself. “For me. Moral complexity is such a burden.”
CHAPTER 2
“Heard any good slurs for poor people lately?” asked the Baron Harkonnen homosexually, knocking back another shot of orphan tears.
this post was a lot longer but I forced myself to cut it back because brevity is the soul of wit and I was getting carried away
anything for you darling
CHAPTER 1
“The fact that I will commit unspeakable genocide and lead a holy war across the galaxy is very bad,” said young Paul Atreides. “For me.”
“I too feel morally conflicted by my role in a ruthless eugenics program,” admitted his mother, the Lady Jessica. “Does that make me a bad mother? Who can say….”
At that moment the Duke Leto Atreides returned home from a grueling day churning out propaganda to convince his troops that he was worth dying for. His regal face was lined with deep moral complexities. “It’s tough when you’re me and everybody wants to fuck you so so bad,” he said. “But that’s the price I must pay for the future well-being of my ancestral house.” He sighed, deep and melancholy. When was the last time he’d thrown around the old pigskin with his boy? Would he ever get the chance again…?
That’s fully-manual ascetic space feudalism for you, he thought libertarianally.
Paul looked around the room and was struck by the sudden and horrific realization that he was the smartest person to ever live, and that even his own loving mother and father could never hope to understand Time Cube.
But that’s a problem for another day, Paul decided, not for the last time.
CHAPTER 2
“It’s a beautiful day to be grossnasty, don’t you think?” said the Baron Harkonnen homosexually as he surveyed the ravaged landscape beyond the window. Acid rain pelted against the glass and melted the flesh off the shrieking peasants below.
“Sure. Whatever,” said Feyd-Rautha, not looking up from his sketchbook, upon which he had scrawled the words ‘I love killing and maiming’ in large bubble letters.
“A-h-h,” said the Baron. “That was a trick question: every day is a beautiful day for being grossnasty. You must learn this lesson well, nephew, if you ever hope to get anywhere in life. Piter, what are you doing over there with that huge and evil brain of yours?”
The mentat violated the Hays Code six times in the few seconds it took him to reply. “I’m calculating a mathematically perfect slur for orphans,” he said in a gay voice. “Just as you requested.”
“Finally! A productive use of your time,” said the Baron, and flipped him off. Without a word, he snatched the pen from Feyd-Rautha’s hand and wrote ‘and oppressing the populace’ beneath the words the youth had already written. “There,” he said. “Much better.”
“Fully manual ascetic space feudalism” will live forever in my mind
following people who are into wrestling is just like “holy shit johnny appleseed just hit burner hurtzog (evil artfilm director-themed wrestler) with the Prostate Puncher 5000! can’t fucking stand that guy!” like all day long
you have to be in a certain specific mood to listen to classic rock because sometimes a guy is playing his guitar and you’re just like shut the fuck up man
you can discuss the problems within academia literally forever and you probably should but “historians are trying to keep information from you” is always going to be an anti-intellectual, reactionary opinion, sorry, literally no way around that
if you literally don’t even know what a professional historian does at work daily and you literally think it’s oppression for someone to ask you to crack open a book every now and then, i promise it’s not a historian’s fault why you don’t know anything
Also we love talking about our current research. A bit too much sometimes I admit. So it’s really more an issue how to get historians (or most academics and scientists) to stop talking.
Transcript: “My buddy Keith lived in a graveyard once for a whole year. It watn’t a dare or nothin’, he just got kicked out of his house. He said that he never saw a single ghost ‘cept this one time when a ghost stabbed him from behind and took all his money and he might’ve just been a homeless guy cuz he had a robe on with two eyes cut out his face.”
ALT
