So The Other Night During D&D, I Had The Sudden Thoughts That:

IM WEEPING AGAHAHAHAHAGAHA

The patron

The alien came to the library again, shortly before closing time, and quickly found a book.

"May this entity borrow The Complete History of Knitting?"

They always return the book they borrow after five minutes, but the ritual of checking it seems important to them. 

"Of course. Did you bring your card?"

I looked them up, after the first time I saw them for real. They first registered with us over ninety years ago. The senior librarian who first told me about them said I shouldn't stare, or pry.

"Whatever else they are, they are a patron, and should be treated as such," she said. "If they seek knowledge, it is our duty to help them find it."

There isn't an ancient and secret code of librarians, but that is definitely a core part of it. If such a code existed.

I scan the card and the book. "There you go," I say and hand them over. "Please return it within two weeks."

They tilt their head. "This entity will honour your terms."

"Oh! That reminds me, we have updated the terms since your last visit." I hand them the pamphlet we got from the printers last week. "It's mostly about internet usage, but I'll need you to read them and agree."

They study the pamphlet.

"These are terms this entity can abide by." They pause. "Is there no requirement to keep your existence secret?"

"Of course not," I say, "we always welcome new patrons."

They stand silent, long enough for me to realise the implications of what I have just said. 

"This entity had made an assumption, based on prior experiences on countless worlds, where knowledge is always closely guarded and costly to obtain" they say at last. "You will provide knowledge for free to all who seek it?"

In my mind, I weigh humanity's ignorance of those countless worlds of alien civilisations against the code.

"Yes," I say, "this is a library."

fullmetal alchemist as famous military propaganda lolol

straight people shut up challenge

lesbians love and support our trans sisters 💖💖

I don't know if this was obvious to everyone else, but I just realised that one of the reasons why the Hobbit is so effective as a children's book is that while Bilbo is an adult, the skills that make him a hero are all those of a child.

By human standards he's child-sized, which makes him unobtrusive and light on his feet. He can slip by unnoticed where bigger people can't.

He's good at playing games, and even cheats (successfully!) in a way that - let's face it - is not so different to how children try to cheat at games. He's polite in a way that's fully comprehensible to children (rather than, say, being able to perform courtly manners). He's quick-witted, but the trick of keeping the trolls talking is also one that would be achievable for a child.

He doesn't have magic powers, he's not a great fighter, and he's not some kind of Chosen One. There's not much that he does that couldn't be done by a ten-year-old, but the story shows just how valuable all those skills and traits are. It's very empowering.

becoming an adult cheat sheet!

learn to coupon

what to do when you can’t afford therapy

cleaning your bathroom

what to do when you can’t pay your bills

stress management

quick fix meals

find out if you’re paying too much for your cell phone bill

resume workshop

organize your closet

how to take care of yourself when you’re sick

what you should bring to a doctor’s appointment

what’s a mortgage?

how to pick a health insurance plan

hotlines list

your first gynecology appointment

what to do if the cops pull you over

things to have in your car in case of emergency

my moving out masterpost

how to make friends as an adult (video)

how to do taxes (video)

recommended reads for surviving adulthood (video)

change a flat tire (video)

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opening a bank account (video)

laundry cheat sheet

recipes masterpost

tricks to help you sleep more

what the fuck should you make for dinner?

where should you go for drinks?

alcohol: know your limits

easy makeup tips

find seat maps for your flight

self-defense tips

prevent hangovers

workout masterpost

how to write a check

career builder

browse careers

birth control information

financial management software & app (free)

my mental health masterpost

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sex ed masterpost

@bovineblogger

I went to see the transhumance last week and it was an experience! I've lived here for five years and I'd never been to this event despite it being advertised in the library & town hall every year because I thought, it's just cows crossing a town on their way to their summer pastures, it's not that interesting—but I didn't realise that people turned it into a whole party, as people tend to do. When I arrived in town I found that a nearby field had been (temporarily) turned into a car park to accommodate the many, many visitors who came to see the spectacle—and I was like, maybe I've been missing out on something.

The town was festooned with tassels and garlands (some of the cows were also festooned, with big pompons on their horns) (festoon is a really great English word.) When I arrived there was a thriving little market with several cheese stands, because of course people would take this opportunity to sell their cheeses. They also sold bread, fruit, and cow milk-based desserts including ice-cream, so you were covered if you wanted lunch. (Unless you're lactose intolerant. I'm sorry.)

There were also folk dancers, and a contest going on where you had to guess the weight of an absolutely massive bull (see above). (My guess was way off, he weighed 1 200 kg!) There was a stand with a guy selling beautiful, framed photos of his cows. In one photo a cow was whispering something in her friend's ear. Nearby some prize cows were waiting to be paraded around and one of them was wearing a halter with a little heart <3

(I was invited for apéritif at a neighbour's house a few months ago, he's a retired farmer and he had old Kodak photos of his cows from the 1980s and 90s all over his house. He remembered their names and personalities.)

There was also a stand selling a dizzying variety of cow bells, and I've been resisting the temptation to buy a cow bell for five years now because, well, it's such a cliché tourist thing to buy, but I will probably end up buying one someday. It's hard to resist their allure. I'm not sure which of my animals will have to deal with the humiliation of wearing a bell for a few hours and being photographed cosplaying as a cow against his will.

(Definitely Pirlouit.)

I was buying an ice-cream and asking the vendor if the cows were fashionably late when finally, the herds started arriving. One herd would cross the town, with onlookers clapping and cheering (including from their balconies), then people went back to buying cheese and watching the dancers or the brass band, and commenting on the prize cows strutting on the plaza, then another herd would arrive half an hour later and children would run ahead to warn everyone "They're coming!" (kids love being sentinels) and people would eagerly gather again to clap and cheer as they walked past, and it went on like this all day. You'd think you might get tired of eating ice-cream and clapping for cows but no, people were still enthusiastic when the last herd came.

Imagine being a local cow, and every year when your owners take you to your summer pastures in the mountain you cross a town where people are eating cow milk ice-cream and clapping for you gratefully as you walk past, and buying cow merch (like bells) and admiring an exhibit of framed photos of you and your friends, and watching cow supermodels walking the catwalk on the plaza, and just as you think you've reached maximum levels of appreciation you reach the entrance of town and there's a lifesized statue in your honour in the middle of the roundabout. These cows must have such solid self-esteem.