In The Remote Arctic Almost 30 Years Ago, A Group Of Inuit Middle School Students And Their Teacher Invented

I like watching sheep dogs work.

I search online for videos of muddy farm dogs doing their jobs—

Effortlessly—

Tirelessly.

They love to do it.

In Ireland I paid a euro to see a border collie demonstration—

how fast she brought the sheep in.

We all remarked on her agility. Her intelligence.

But I noticed that as soon as she was on their heel, the sheep turned their bodies toward us—

Toward home.

They already knew where to go, what to do.

The border collie only told them it was time.

But we all know—a sheep is not a good animal to be.

We never call the sheep smart.

But I don’t see myself in the border collie,

Not in her hard work. Her agility. Her endurance.

It’s easy to see myself in the herd.

They’re scared,

so they come home.

And I am often scared.

I am often facing home.

I often wish someone would tell me it’s time to go.

Sheep,dog — another old poem originally shared on a different platform.

jaggedwolf said: can’t say this and not link/say which one it is

the original “turing test” paper is so beautiful.  more beautiful, i imagine, than most expect going in—he’s got this underlying warm humanism and gentle humor throughout.  (it’s present even in his more technical papers, but it shines here)

and the section that slays me each time is this:

“It will not be possible to apply exactly the same teaching process to the machine as to a normal child. It will not, for instance, be provided with legs, so that it could not be asked to go out and fill the coal scuttle. Possibly it might not have eyes. But however well these deficiencies might be overcome by clever engineering, one could not send the creature to school without the other children making excessive fun of it […]”

like.  this is the original “turing test” paper.  this is the first dude to formally conceptualize the whole “~*~what if computers learn to think, how could we tell~*~” thing.  which, in subsequent SF invocations, is used mostly in spooky or paranoid contexts: the Voigt-Kampff test of Blade Runner, the preemptive rushes to constrain that budding will in I, Robot and others, and in modern worries over AGI.  and i like those stories!  they’re interesting and cool and eerie!

but

but

the original guy was not scared or unsettled or spooked by the prospect of new minds.  this dude’s primary concern, when facing the dawn of artificial intelligence, was instead: “what if we teach computers to think and then the other kids on the playground bully the computer, that would be so mean :(((”

i love that, so much.  i love people so much, sighs into hands

CoVID-19 Trauma Resources

HEY GUYS

Know how I talk about trauma and how it works (and how to mediate it and avoid it) and so on a lot?

The Neurosequential Network is putting together webinars and talks and resources about that here.

Thus far there’s a recording of the live meeting they did yesterday, a link to an episode on The Trauma Therapist Podcast on the issue, and to Peace of Mind Foundation’s facebook discussion, but much more is planned.

That said even these are amazing resources as they are. This can be particularly useful if there are children in your life, but it’s honestly useful period.

(This is the network behind the symposium I was stupidly excited about going to; sadly it’s been postponed until next year, but the network started putting this stuff together immediately.)

would you be willing to explain the medieval vs. rennaisance stuff you were mentioning in "the middle ages got murdered" or point me to the tags you use for talking about such things? ty.

SURE. :D 

So here’s the thing: what we call “the Renaissance” was a very self-consciously constructed concept invented by a guy called Francesco Petracco (aka Petrarch) because he was totally defensive about the place of Italy in the era he was alive in (aka “a totally disreputable mess of constant warfare, weird alliances, sadistic fuckhead rulers, and so on, with bits of it being passed between mainland European empires and/or the pope and/or both willy nilly, with everyone else kind of ignoring it”) because this was an ignoble and horrible fate for The Heirs of Rome. 

He endeavoured to Subtly (ie not at all subtly) get himself crowned as a poet of outstanding virtue via laurel wreath (aka what we’d now call “the poet laureate”, although the position wasn’t formalized at that time although the symbolism was well known) in a big Ceremony and announced that Learning and Art and Wisdom would restore the world (aka Rome, aka the Empire rightly controlled by Rome) to a good and moral place of goodness, unlike all this horrible shit that had been happening lately. 

He impressed a GREAT many people with this, and more or less from then on the official story of history is that with Petrarch in the mid-14th century (aka the mid-1300s) there was a Renaissance that saved us from the Dark and/or Middle Ages, where we got back alllll the True Wisdom of Antiquity and became civilized thoughtful people instead of superstitious peasants. 

The problem with this is, of course, that it is a giant pile of flaming bullshit. 

Keep reading

2018 is þe year of using þe þorn again instead of þe letters “T” and “H” in succession

A second note prompted by something else, but is a wider issue I see people missing a lot: 

Oppression and suffering/harm are not actually the same thing. Which is not to say that oppression doesn’t cause harm - it pretty reliably does! - but rather that oppression is not the only thing that causes suffering, even suffering that we “should” care about. 

(I mean I’m of the opinion that misery, harm and so on are pretty bad and we should look for ways to alleviate them in all people, but I’m talking here in a “you’re concerned about how society works? Ok look over here.”) 

Oppression is a commentary on power-dynamics and organization - specifically, systemic abusive power-dynamics and organization. But many things are bad and cause significant human harm and suffering even without being a matter of systemic abusive power-dynamics. 

For instance: due to how society works, chronic depressive disorder does in fact fit within the ambit of the systemic abusive power-dynamic called “ablism”. 

However, even if it weren’t, it would still cause significant suffering and probably death, because that’s literally what the disease is. 

(This, btw, is often a source of contention between disabled people whose problems would significantly be solved by society not being an ablist piece of shit, vs those whose conditions are inherently, fundamentally harmful. Chronic pain will still hurt a lot even if society has no abusive power-dynamics: the only way to stop chronic pain hurting is to, well, adequately treat and solve chronic pain. Conversely there is absolutely no need to “cure” hearing problems or neurodivergence in order to solve the primary problem of society’s shit power-dynamics. Because Intersectionality Is Hard, we fight about this a lot.) 

This is important, because observing that a particular group suffers because of this, that or the other, is not actually the same as saying that the same group is oppressed in any given system. 

So for instance, on the axis of “gender”, cis men are not “oppressed”: that is to say, the fucked-up power dynamics do not target and disenfranchise them. 

That doesn’t mean it’s not harming them, or even killing them. It is. In fact toxic masculinity kills men continually. It just means that in terms of the power dynamic, they’re on the top of it. 

Likewise, on the economic axis, the wealth-class are by definition not an oppressed group! AT ALL. EVEN REMOTELY. They are the top of the fucking heap. They have all the power and all the structural bullshit to the nth degree. 

They are not oppressed. 

However, they do still suffer and die from it. It still harms them. Because oppression is not the only form of harm. 

This, for me, is perhaps part of the biggest reason understanding that systems don’t have to actually benefit anyone is important.  

We have a tendency to look at groups and go “you’re not oppressed, ergo your reports of the suffering you’re experiencing are unimportant/made up.” Which doesn’t get very far, because humans as an entire species react badly to being told “you’re not actually suffering”. 

But because we synonymise “suffering” and “being oppressed”, it also means that a person who knows (because they experience it) that they are suffering - that pain, harm and damage are occurring to them - will in turn either need to deny their own reality, or they will have to reinvent reality so that they are oppressed. 

This?

This is what allows radical groups to recruit. Regardless of their focus and ideology. They can go: yes, we totally get that you’re suffering! And you know why you’re suffering? Because you don’t have enough power! And you know why you don’t have enough power? Because [whatever target group] actually has it! And any time they ask you do to something that’s difficult or uncomfortable or annoying, that’s them using their power over you, and oppressing you. 

And bob’s your uncle. 

Don’t get me wrong: oppression is absofuckinglutely a major cause of suffering. But it’s not the only cause, and it is not necessary for suffering, and suffering still matters even when it’s not caused by systemic power-imbalances. Hell, even when it’s causing same, because weirdly enough sometimes solving the suffering is a necessary part of solving the systemic power-imbalance. 

(It is rarely sufficient: you usually have to do a shitload of stuff along with it. But it is often necessary, which is to say that if it’s not solved, all the other stuff won’t do it - at most it will just … flip who has the systematically imbalanced power.) 

And because there are many ways in which power works in a society, it may be an abusive imbalance on one axis (like, say, economic class) that is causing significant suffering which is then misidentified as being caused by a different axis that the person is actually on the top of! And this is how you get the MADDENINGLY ILLOGICAL PERSISTENCE of violent white supremacy among the rural poor* so that they’re constantly working to maintain the power of landlords and members of the wealth-class who are directly exploiting them, because those landlords/etc are successful at convincing them that the actual problem here is that White People Are Oppressed. 

Because humans are complicated and difficult. 

And very very bad at thinking clearly when we’re miserable and suffering. 

So that’s another thing that I think it is useful to understand, when trying to take the steps necessary to stop this world from being a miserable hellpit. 

*(y: being inculcated with racism by society from birth helps a lot for sure. But have you ever been frustrated by the fact that white rural poor will, in fact, often ACT AGAINST THEIR OWN SELF INTEREST IN EVERY WAY? *points* Welp.) 

Somewhat on the vibe of "your glorious revolution doesn't exist," I want to talk to you all, especially the young folks, about effective anarchism.

Spoiler alert, it's not blowing stuff up or arson.

I am considered the most anarchical person of all among my friends. Granted, most of my experience has been wreaking anarchy against the systems present in my high school and college, but the principles are the same.

Practical anarchy is not the big, flashy, romanticizable thing people online make it out to be. It's more about the long haul - digging in your teeth and just being a menace that no one can really get rid of.

Everyone's "Why vote when you can firebomb a Walmart" posts (that they don't follow through on) are just not pratical because this is a surveillance society. With CCTV and DNA testing and cell phone cameras and GPS tracking, if you do something big like that, you are GOING to be caught; then that is the end of your anarchical career. And, keep in mind that you might get caught while you're setting up this big event - it's a crime to blow up a Walmart and also a crime to conspire to blow up a Walmart, so your career in anarchy might end before it begins, and then you are permanently out of the game. No matter what causes you were working for that inspired you to do something big and violent that you thought would get someone's attention, you now can't help at all ever again in your entire life. What you did will be a passing headline on the news, and then everything will go back to exactly what it was because big, acute actions can't compare in effectiveness to small, constant actions (just being a thorn in the side of the system, poking and poking, but unable to be dislodged).

This is just the practical side of it too: think about the risk of hurting innocents if you really advocate for doing things like that. You think blowing up a Walmart would really make a dent in that big of a corporation? But if you intentionally or unintentionally kill a bunch of Walmart shoppers, that's going to devastate families that had nothing to do with whatever your cause is.

So all that big talk about violence and destruction: not practical, not effective, not ethical.

The only way I've started to change oppressive systems around me is by justing chipping away from within the confines of the rules of these systems, and/or only stepping just outside them (never breaking rules in a big way that could have allowed said system to easily and "justifiably" get rid of me).

So if you're going to be an anarchist, you need to consider:

Having the longest career in anarchism possible (i.e. being careful enough and judicious with your actions so that you don't get expelled from the system you wish to fight).

And then for any given anarchical plan:

2. Potential consequences.

3. Insurance.

I'll give you an example. I had serious beef with the culture of my college's science department. Students were constantly overworked, and if they expressed their misery outloud or reached out to any of their professors about their struggles, they got apathetic responses if not direct insults to their abilities or dedication. I had too many similar disparaging interactions with professors in one week, and I realized a lot of the responses I was getting were just the result of professors not really knowing how they sounded when they said certain things to students (ex: If someone says they're struggling with a course, don't IMMEDIATELY respond with "change your major," - you can give that as an option, but if you make it your first suggestion, the implication to the student is that if they're having any trouble with the course, they're not good enough for the program).

So I wrote up a flier of examples of good and bad ways to respond to students having anxiety with explanations and distributed it to every professor in the department. Everyone who knew about this perceived it as a great personal risk - that I would get in some kind of unspecified trouble or piss off an important professor, so before embarking on this project, I considered...

Potential consequences: I couldn't really think of any specific college or department rules I could be violating. People postered and handed out fliers in the department all the time. What I was doing fell pretty clearly under freedom of speech. I just shoved the fliers under professors' doors, so I didn't trespass in anyone's office. Worst I could think is that individual professors would get mad at me and make my life difficult, or I'd simply be told to stop fliering in the department.

Insurance: Just in case there were any consequences that I didn't think of and to insure me against the ones I had thought of, I didn't put my name on the flier. It was typed in Word, something everyone had access to. I came in to do it after professors had all left for the day but before I needed to use my ID to get into the building (no electronic record of me being there). I took the elevator to the first floor offices because the stairs require ID swipe after 5pm, but the elevators do not. I found out the building had no cameras by asking about it on the grounds that something of mine had been stolen a few weeks prior. I shoved the flier under the doors of dark offices and left it outside offices with lights on (so that no one would come out and spot me). And here's one of the most important pieces of insurance: I put up a few of the fliers on public bulletin boards in the building. This was important so that if I slipped up and said something that conveyed that I had knowledge of the content of the flier, I would have an excuse for that, i.e., I read it on the bulletin board before class this morning.

And then I did the thing. And surprisingly, it was incredibly well-received by professors. A few who knew that the flier must have been mine (because of previous, similar anarchical actions rumored to be associated with me) told me that everyone was RELIEVED that they finally had an instruction manual from the student perspective on what the hell they're supposed to say when one of their students is panicking. It sparked a real change in the vibe of the department and student experience. Had it instead pissed people off, I would have simply said I could not claim authorship of the flier but had read it and thought it contained good ideas then gone on creating more anarchy while angry people grasped at the zero straws I had left them to pin the action on me.

That's an example of a single action I took that was part of a much longer (~3 years) campaign of mine to change the culture of my department. Everytime I did something in that campaign, I made that consequences vs. insurance calculation to make sure they couldn't expell me from the program, the department, or the school before I succeeded.

I want to step away from the art-vs-artist side of the Gaiman issue for a bit, and talk about, well, the rest of it. Because those emotions you're feeling would be the same without the art; the art just adds another layer.

Source: I worked with a guy who turned out to be heavily involved in an international, multi-state sex-slavery/trafficking ring.

He was really nice.

Yeah.

It hits like a dumptruck of shit. You don't feel stable in your world anymore. How could someone you interacted with, liked, also be a truly horrible person? How could your judgement be that bad? How can real people, not stylized cartoon bogeymen, be actually doing this shit?

You have to sit with the fact that you couldn't, or probably couldn't, have known. You should have no guilt as part of this horror — but guilt is almost certainly part of that mess you're feeling, because our brains do this associative thing, and somehow "I liked [the version of] the guy [that I knew]", or his creations, becomes "I made a horrible mistake and should feel guilty."

You didn't, loves, you didn't.

We're human, and we can only go by the information we have. And the information we have is only the smallest glimpse into someone else's life.

I didn't work closely with the guy I knew at work, but we chatted. He wasn't just nice; he was one of the only people outside my tiny department who seemed genuinely nice in a workplace that was rapidly becoming incredibly toxic. He loaned me a bike trainer. Occasionally he'd see me at the bus stop and give me a lift home.

Yup. I was a young woman in my twenties and rode in this guy's car. More than once.

When I tell this story that part usually makes people gasp. "You must feel so scared about what could have happened to you!" "You're so lucky nothing happened!"

No, that's not how it worked. I was never in danger. This guy targeted Korean women with little-to-no English who were coerced and powerless. A white, fluent, US citizen coworker wasn't a potential victim. I got to be a person, not prey.

Y'know that little warning bell that goes off, when you're around someone who might be a danger to you? That animal sense that says "Something is off here, watch out"?

Yeah, that doesn't ping if the preferred prey isn't around.

That's what rattled me the most about this. I liked to think of myself as willing to stand up for people with less power than me. I worked with Japanese exchange students in college and put myself bodily between them and creeps, and I sure as hell got that little alarm when some asian-schoolgirl fetishist schmoozed on them. But we were all there.

I had to learn that the alarm won't go off when the hunter isn't hunting. That it's not the solid indicator I might've thought it was. That sometimes this is what the privilege of not being prey does; it completely masks your ability to detect the horrors that are going on.

A lot of people point out that 'people like that' have amazing charisma and ability to lie and manipulate, and that's true. Anyone who's gotten away with this shit for decades is going to be way smoother than the pathetic little hangers-on I dealt with in university. But it's not just that. I seriously, deeply believe that he saw me as a person, and he did not extend personhood to his victims. We didn't have a fake coworker relationship. We had a real one. And just like I don't know the ins-and-outs of most of my coworkers lives, I had no idea that what he did on his down time was perpetrate horrors.

I know this is getting off the topic, but it's so very important. Especially as a message to cis guys: please understand that you won't recognize a creep the way you might think you will. If you're not the preferred prey, the hind-brain alarm won't go off. You have to listen to victims, not your gut feeling that the person seems perfectly nice and normal. It doesn't mean there's never a false accusation, but face the fact that it's usually real, and you don't have enough information to say otherwise.

So, yeah. It fucking sucks. Writing about this twists my insides into tense knots, and it was almost a decade ago. I was never in danger. No one I knew was hurt!

Just countless, powerless women, horrifically abused by someone who was nice to me.

You don't trust your own judgement quite the same way, after. And as utterly shitty as it is, as twisted up and unstead-in-the-world as I felt the day I found out — I don't actually think that's a bad thing.

I think we all need to question our own judgement. It makes us better people.

I don't see villains around every corner just because I knew one, once. But I do own the fact that I can't know, really know, about anyone except those closest to me. They have their own full lives. They'll go from the pinnacles of kindness to the depths of depravity — and I won't know.

It's not a failing. It's just being human. Something to remember before you slap labels on people, before you condemn them or idolize them. Think about how much you can't know, and how flawed our judgement always is.

Grieve for victims, and the feeling of betrayal. But maybe let yourself off the hook, and be a bit slower to skewer others on it.

Something that’s been very interesting to me, in this new wave of post-miniseries Good Omens fandom, is the apparent fannish consensus that Crowley is, in fact, bad at his job.  That he’s actually quite nice.  That he’s been skating by hiding his general goodness from hell by taking credit for human evil and doling out a smattering of tiny benign inconveniences that he calls bad.

I get the urge towards that headcanon, and I do think the Crowley in the miniseries comes off as nicer than the one in the book.  (I think miniseries Crowley and Aziraphale are both a little nicer, a little more toothless, than the versions of themselves in the book.)  But maybe it’s because I was a book fan first, or maybe it’s because I just find him infinitely more interesting this way–I think Crowley, even show!Crowley, has the capacity to be very good at his job of sowing evil.  And I think that matters to the story as a whole.

A demon’s job on Earth, and specifically Crowley’s job on Earth, isn’t to make people suffer.  It’s to make people sin.  And the handful of ‘evil’ things we see Crowley do over the course of the series are effective at that, even if the show itself doesn’t explore them a lot.

Take the cell phone network thing, for instance.  This gets a paragraph in the book that’s largely brushed off in the conversation with Hastur and Ligur, and I think it’s really telling: 

What could he tell them?  That twenty thousand people got bloody furious?  That you could hear the arteries clanging shut all across the city?  And that then they went back and took it out on their secretaries or traffic wardens or whatever, and they took it out on other people?  In all kinds of vindictive little ways which, and here was the good bit, they thought up themselves.  For the rest of the day.  The pass-along effects were incalculable.  Thousands and thousands of souls all got a faint patina of tarnish, and you hardly had to lift a finger.

In essence, without any great expenditure of effort (look, I’d never say Crowley isn’t slothful, but that just makes him efficient), he’s managed to put half of London in a mental and emotional state that Crowley knows will make them more inclined to sin.  He’s given twenty thousand or a hundred thousand or half a million people a Bad Day.  Which, okay, it’s just a bad day–but bad days are exhausting.  Bad days make you snap, make you fail at things, make you feel guiltier and more stressed out in the aftermath when you wake up the next day, makes everything a little worse.  Bad days matter.

Maybe it’s because I’m a believer in the ripple effect of small kindnesses, and that means I have to believe in its opposite.  Maybe it’s just that I, personally, have had enough days that were bad enough that a downed cell network (or an angry coworker because of a downed cell network) would honestly have mattered.  But somebody who deliberately moves through the world doing their best to make everyone’s lives harder, with the aim of encouraging everybody around them to be just a little crueler, just a little angrier, just a little less empathetic–you know what, yes.  I do call that successful evil.

It’s subtle, is the thing.  That’s why Hastur and Ligur don’t get it, don’t approve of it.  Not because Crowley isn’t good at his job, but because we’ve seen from the beginning that Hastur and Ligur are extremely out of touch with humanity and the modern world and just plain aren’t smart enough to get it.  It’s a strategy that relies on understanding how humans work, what our buttons are and how to press them.  It’s also a strategy that’s remarkably advanced in terms of free will.  Hastur and Ligur deliberately tempt and coerce and entrap individuals into sinning, but Crowley never even gets close.  We never see him say to a single person, ‘hey, I’ve got an idea for you, why don’t you go do this bad thing?’  He sets up conditions to encourage humans to actually do the bad things they’re already thinking of themselves.  He creates a situation and opens it up to the results of free choice.  Every single thing a person does after Crowley’s messed with them is their own decision, without any demonic coercion to blame for any of it.

You see it again in the paintball match.  “They wanted real guns, I gave them what they wanted.”  In this case, Crowley didn’t need to irritate anybody into wanting to do evil–the desire to shoot and hurt and maybe even kill their own coworkers was already present in every combatant on that paintball field.  Crowley just so happened to be there at exactly the right time to give them the opportunity to turn that fleeting, kind-of-bad-but-never-acted-upon desire into real, concrete, attempted murder.  Sure, nobody died–where would be the fun in a pile of corpses?  But now forty-odd people who may never have committed a real act of violence in their entire lives, caught in a moment of weakness with real live weapons in their hands, will get to spend the rest of their lives knowing that given the opportunity and the tiniest smidgen of plausible deniability, they are absolutely the sort of people who could and would kill another human being they see every single day over a string of petty annoyances.

Crowley understands the path between bad thought and evil action.  He knows it gets shorter when somebody is upset or irritated, and that it gets shorter when people practice turning one into the other.  He understands that sometimes, removing a couple of practical obstacles is the only nudge a person needs–no demonic pressure or circumvention of free will required.

I love this interpretation, because I love the idea that Crowley, who’s been living on Earth for six thousand years, actually gets people in a way no other demon can.  I love the idea that Crowley, the very first tempter, who was there when free will was invented, understands how it works and how to use it better than maybe anyone else.  And I really love the idea that Crowley our hero, who loves Aziraphale and saves the world, isn’t necessarily a good guy.

There’s a narrative fandom’s been telling that, at its core, is centered around the idea that Crowley is good, and loves and cares and is nice, and always has been.  Heaven and its rigid ideas of Right and Wrong is itself the bad thing.  Crowley is too good for Heaven, and was punished for it, but under all the angst and pain and feelings of hurt and betrayal, he’s the best of all of them after all.

That’s a compelling story.  There’s a reason we keep telling it.  The conflict between kindness and Moral Authority, the idea that maybe the people in charge are the ones who’re wrong and the people they’ve rejected are both victim and hero all at once–yeah.  There’s a lot there to connect with, and I wouldn’t want to take it away from anyone.  But the compelling story I want, for me, is different.

I look at Crowley and I want a story about someone who absolutely has the capacity for cruelty and disseminating evil into the world.  Somebody who’s actually really skilled at it, even if all he does is create opportunities, and humans themselves just keep living down to and even surpassing his expectations.  Somebody who enjoys it, even.  Maybe he was unfairly labeled and tossed out of heaven to begin with, but he’s embraced what he was given.  He’s thrived.  He is, legitimately, a bad person.

And he tries to save the world anyway.

He loves Aziraphale.  He helps save the entire world.  Scared and desperate and determined and devoted, he drives through a wall of fire for the sake of something other than himself.  He likes humans, their cleverness, their complexities, the talent they have for doing the same sort of evil he does himself, the talent they have for doing the exact opposite.  He cares.

It’s not a story about someone who was always secretly good even though they tried to convince the whole world and themself that they weren’t.  It’s a story about someone who, despite being legitimately bad in so many ways, still has the capacity to be good anyway.  It’s not about redemption, or about what Heaven thinks or judges or wants.  It’s about free will.  However terrible you are or were or have the ability to be, you can still choose to do a good thing.  You can still love.  You can still be loved in return.

And I think that matters.