OP is behaving cruelly. No one should brag about treating another person like this. The third reblogger is spot on that conversations aren’t battlefields – you don’t “win” by shaming or rebuking your interlocutor into silence.
That said, I’m really not fond of statements like “kindness is free”, or “it costs zero dollars to be nice”, or any other permutation. Kindness isn’t free. No person has a limitless capacity for patience and understanding. To ignore that is to ignore the huge amount of work – yes, work – that humans put into cultivating compassion for others. And it not-so-implicitly shames people for whom that work isn’t easy.
Listening to someone infodump is not effortless. As an avid infodumper myself, I am always mindful that people willing to listen to me ramble are doing me a kindness. Hanging onto a topic that doesn’t interest you in the slightest, especially when the infodumper is speaking quickly or making leaps that don’t make sense to you, takes effort. That doesn’t make it ~emotional labor~, and it doesn’t mean you’re entitled to rudeness or to bragging about making someone “visibly uncomfortable”, but it’s not free. It’s a competing access need.
Responding with eye rolls or stony silence when I ramble about historical clothing is disrespectful, but so is expecting limitless attention. “Just listen! It’s not hard!” elides that. And it ignores the fact that the neurodivergences that make people prone to infodumping are often the same ones that make it hard to listen intently.
I’m confused by the assertion that feigning interest in boring infodumps isn’t emotional labor. What is emotional labor if it doesn’t include making an effort to fake emotions you aren’t feeling in order to spare someone else’s feelings?
It’s emotional labor in the sense that it’s work involving emotional management, and I suppose you could call it that colloquially. That said, I try not to contribute to the concept creep that ignores the service sector element. I’m also not fond of giving quarter to “being nice to strangers is emotional labor and you should pay me” types of arguments.
what is *actually* draining af is listening to people talk about emotional labour because it’s one of the worst cases of
Emotional labour is a term of Marxist theory. It stands for the unpaid-but-taxing emotional work that workers are expected to put into their jobs. It also stands for part of the reproductive labour done by women – unpaid, again, and unrecognised as labour, and defined as child-rearing and keeping a family in good social graces, and it goes under the umbrella of reproductive labour, which is different from productive labour because it’s what makes productive labour possible.
In short, emotional labour is NOT being kind to other people, it’s got nothing to do with what one does on the level of a single interpersonal conversation. Now, there’s smth to be said for the emotional ineptitude of cishet men, who are basically conditioned to expect emotional support from women around them, especially their romantic/sexual partners, and for the way women are conditioned to give it to them. This could arguably be termed emotional labour, but let’s pick another word for that, please, and stop saying emotional labour, because with the way tumblr’s abused this term and how pop feminism has distorted it, it now basically means: “How dare people expect basic politeness from me in regular conversation” and that’s really kinda fucked up.
I’m not over this review of a self groomer for a three legged cat. Look at him. He hasn’t been able scratch his left side by himself since he lost his leg but now he can and he is living life the fullest. That is the face of a cat who has finally scratched an itch.
see, and now we come to a problem. I’ve just gotten home, it’s 8:30 or 9 pm, and I just had a goddamn protein shake at 6 at my desk right after the workout so I have even less appetite than the barely any appetite at all I have when I get home at this time on an ordinary weekday. I don’t want to cook or order or eat food! I ate at the office!
this high protein at every meal business that assumes three meals a day plus a bonus dose at bedtime if you’re really motivated … it’s going to be a problem. a frankly insane degree of lit review does in fact legitimately suggest not less than 120 mg protein a day, and the older you are the more important this gets, and I just cannot see how on earth it’s ever going to happen.
low-effort protein snacks I can probably maybe face eating even on zero appetite nights shopping list:
whole-milk cottage cheese
plain yogurt
(add: fruit to go with the preceding dairy)
that one high-protein Kashi cereal
mozzarella cheese sticks
biltong
dry saucisson assuming I can find a replacement this side of the pond for the good one that just got discontinued
prosciutto
(add: melon to go with the prosciutto)
eggs
(add: oh gods, I guess look for some kind of whole grain bread with meaningful protein content to go with the eggs, maybe those pressed-brick scandi breads would have it)
Also, perhaps @saxifraga-x-urbium has suggestions, he’s very protein-focused currently – though he’s in the UK and availability of specific products may be different.
Dave’s Killer Bread is available around here and looks about as good as Ezekiel, so that will work.
Dave’s Killer Bread has a better name and doesn’t have strange Christian associations, sounds like a solid choice.
oh it gets better though
Dave looks like a good dude! He probably lives in California and has a dog that is bit and stupid but super friendly. The dog sleeps in Dave’s bed every night. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to write fanfic about bread branding.
If you can face it, making pancakes with vital gluten wheat flour instead of flour for immediate or later consumption is a good way to pack protein on very quickly & so area roasted soya nuts as a snack, also generally cheaper than dedicated brand protein snacks (esp since half of ‘high protein’ whatever is like, ‘this popcorn has 4 grams of protein instead of 0!’)
how are leftover pancakes edible **doubt** and yeah I was just browsing a couple of high protein whatever displays and noticed a number of not-enough-grams sells. feh.
nuts and nut butters should go on the list, but with a quantity/feasibility caveat, they get very satiating very quickly.
If you replace egg in the pancake with peanut butter leftover pancakes are pretty damn nice
Holy shit, I know what I’m making for breakfast this Saturday.
1. To enter the city, you must provide certain things: an invitation; a reason; a rhyme; and your identity. These are necessary for all visitors and of course you will get some of them back. But some things the city takes. You can never be sure quite what. Indeed, sometimes the official at the gate will hand your identity back, neatly wrapped just so, and you will not realise until you are well within the walls that it is not the same one that you handed over.
2. The city takes the sound of your footsteps on the cobbles. You will be entering after dark, because that is when everyone enters. The city takes the sound of your footsteps and turns it into something else, a sound woven through with distant strangeness and the hard echo slap of deserted colonnades. You can remove your shoes to try and keep their old sound, but if so the sound will worm its way into the shoes themselves like the sea in a shell.
3. Sleep near the old wall on your first night. The city cannot take much from there. In the morning other travellers wil come out and feed the flocks of white birds that cluster under the wall, waiting for them. At night they cluck and coo in the eaves of the houses and they form a barrier of sorts against loss. Save only this: the memory of the birds will take up a space in your mind, one lately occupied by some other memory, and that other memory will be lost. But the city will not have it.
4. After this the city may take your solitude. The severity of this loss will depend on how much you need your solitude, and whether you have some other thing to put in its place.
5. Of course the city has plenty of solitude to give back. When you have been there some time, when the smell of mid-day there is no longer a surprise or the swirl of the rain down the gutters, the city will surprise you with solitude, and also with the things that it takes to make room for solitude.
6. There are certain notions and ideas that the city will take, or it will twist them to its own shape, letting them grow but only up stairwells and down corridors with sharp corners imprinted on them. There are certain tales that the city will breeze through like smoke, making of their forests housing estates and marketplaces. There are certain notions that the city will not touch and which you will leave with and never come back.
7. The city will take your maps as well. As a traveller, of course you will have brought one. It may not have been a physical one, or even an electronic one, or anything more than a loose collection of ideas. The city will give you maps in abundance, but they will not be the same ones as you had when you entered.
8. The city will take from you the key to the city’s back gate, the one you kept warm and safe in your pocket against such time as you might want to leave. It will not be an ostentatious theft. One day you will look and it will not be there. But then, the city’s back gate is often not there either. The walls themselves change as you get to know the place and with time they become insubstantial and yet impassible, the only barriers being a fear of effort piled upon effort and of the cold wind over the bare fields.
9. Sometimes it will seem that the city has taken away the stars, but they are there at midnight from the astronomers’ tower all the same.
10. When it gives you the key back – and it will, though it may not appear to be a key in the way that you are familiar with – the city will take in turn a small fraction of your soul, a grain of your foundations. When you look back as you leave you may feel the loss of it for a moment. But only a moment. The city is built on these grains and their friction drives the movement of its walls and as with the others that fragment of you will never be returned. The horizon will fill its tiny space before the city has slipped behind it.
dracula movie but the whole thing is from quinceys point of view & its just him being like “what the fuck in tarnation” the whole time as he loyally goes along with everyones shit
My EXTREMELY LATE Halloween Comic – inspired by the Vampire of Lugnano. Feels good to work on some personal stuff, and it’s been ages since I’ve drawn a horror comic.
screaming into the void since '89 