We’ve had a delightful time fostering these kittens, but today is the day they are off to their forever homes. So please say farewell to this trio as they head off and out into their new lives. On one hand I am sad, because they’re absolutely delightful and cuddly and I would love to keep them all. On the other hand I am happy because their lives will absolutely be better than they were when they were found in that parking lot. I’m glad to have had a part in that. May their new lives be long and full of love.
For the new release of the Pixel 10 Pro (and the 10 Pro XL, which is mostly the same phone, just larger), Google has introduced something called the “Pro-Res Zoom,” a process by which, once you zoom in with the camera over about 30x zoom, after you’ve snapped the photo, Google will run it through an “AI” processor, not to bring out the details that are actually there, but to make up details that seem reasonable to assume are there, based on whatever processing algorithm Google is currently using. It then outputs the result of this guessing into your phone, alongside the original photo. Sometimes it looks pretty good! Sometimes it does not! But in neither case is what’s being outputted a photo. Rather, you now have a picture, or an illustration, based on a photo. It’s no more a real photo than it would be if someone made a cartoon version of the photo. The verisimilitude at that point is the same.
Which is not to say that the Google Pixel 10 Pro can’t do a reasonably good job at approximation sometimes. Look at the before/after images of the strawberry above. The “before” version on the left is an unimproved photo, shot at about 50x zoom from across my backyard deck. The strawberry is blotchy and low-detail, which is perfectly reasonable, because the Google actual optical sensor only goes to 5X zoom and everything else is a digital zoom, i.e., it crops in and uses a much smaller number of pixels to resolve the image. The image on the right is the “AI” recreation of the fruit. It looks much better, because Google “knows” what a strawberry is supposed to look like and builds on that. It does a good enough job that you can believe it actually is a photo – a heavily processed one, but one bearing some relationship to reality. That’s because as blotchy as the initial image is, it has enough detail that Google can reasonably extrapolate. That’s a strawberry, all right!
But the extrapolation breaks down, and quickly, when the details aren’t there. You can’t just “enhance” your way to clarity. This image of the end of my road, shot at about 94x zoom, makes the point: Stop signs aren’t circular, and the “STOP” letters aren’t there at all, replaced by white splotches. Overhead wires hang weirdly and disappear randomly. It’s an illustration, and not a particularly good one.
The model’s inability to resolve letters gives a feel like when you’re dreaming and you’re trying to read signs and you can’t because the letters don’t resolve and they squirm around. This is an exactly apt metaphor, because these pictures aren’t reality, they’re a hallucination, only by a computer and not a human mind. I don’t hate it! I think the dream-like squiggles and weird simultaneously over-and-under-detailed images from the Pro Res Zoom can be aesthetically intriguing. But it’s not what I want a camera on my phone to do. I want it to take photos, not generate related-but-ultimately-fictional illustrations.
Below the point at which the Pro Res Zoom kicks in, the Pixel 10 Pro does take perfectly lovely photos – there is algorithmic processing there, too, but its dedicated to fixing light balances and choosing how to represent color and so on, which is to say, all the things that any digital camera does (see the photo above, of the actual strawberry from before, as an example). Google’s Pixel phones have consistently had some of the best cameras in the field, as much due to the software as the hardware, and that’s one of the reasons I’ve stuck with the brand when it comes time to upgrade.
To be fair to Google, it has built-in support for C2PA (Coalition for Content Provenance and Authenticity) Content Credentials, which means that when you use Pro Res Zoom, or any of the Pixel 10 Pro’s other “AI” editing tools, the fact that the image is “AI” generated/edited is embedded in the metadata. Google isn’t trying to fool anyone about what it’s doing. Of course, it’s not that difficult to strip metadata, and not everyone knows how to find that metadata anyway (do you?). I’m not going to fault Google for that. They are at least making the attempt to be clear what’s happening when you use their “AI” tools, and I can appreciate the effort.
With that said, for my own part I’m unlikely to use the “Pro Res Zoom” much; I do like my photos to be actual photos when they come out of the camera; if they’re going to be edited, I want to be the one to edit them, so I can be fundamentally responsible for the images I’m presenting to others. As for everyone else, well, look: There’s an upper physical limit for phones on lenses and sensors, and phone manufacturers have been filling in those gaps with software for years. Google is maybe the first to do that with one of their zooms, at least on this scale, but it’s very unlikely they are going to be the last. We’ll see more of this.
As with everything else you see on the Internet and off of it, you are going to have to be the one who makes the call about whether you believe what you see with your own eyes, and whether what you’re seeing is a photo, or just a picture.
Highways to Hell, Stairways to Heaven: in From the Other Side, author Julia Harrison suggests a different way of locating these ineffable planes of the afterlife… which may or may not so ineffable after all.
JULIA HARRISON:
When it comes to dealing with anxiety that stems from the unknown I’m the kind of person who likes to play devil’s advocate, no pun intended. The two biggest of these subject matters for me are space, my brain is incapable of comprehended something without a known beginning or end, and death.
I’m a little strange I know.
I’m not particularly religious, but not really an atheist either. Let’s just say I keep an open mind. From the Other Side came from a “what if,” moment of ponder regarding death.
Most people think of heaven and hell as being vertical in relation to earth, both literally and metaphorically, I’m not sure where this belief originated. Maybe from the teachings of old where figurative expressions were transcribed in literal terms. But it is widely accepted that above is light, which is the epitome of goodness and purity, below is dark, which is the embodiment of evil and malevolence. Therefore, in both a physical and astral sense heaven exists and is above us, whilst hell exists and is below us.
But what if this isn’t the case?
What if our planes of existence were much more aligned in relation to each other? That the inhabitants from each plane can and do travel between them? That living beings are almost entirely oblivious to them, the good and the bad. How and why are they unaware of such happenings?
Of course each question I asked had to answered in some semi-logical fashion, and from that came the backbone of the book. It seems feasible to assume that humans could have spent a millennium conditioning themselves to unsee anything other than earth and it’s living inhabitants. A self-inflicted blindness that inhibits their ability to see the very linear existence between the planes. The teachings of religion, science, and the occult all serve as a method of both social control and psychological protection, as the saying goes, ignorance is bliss.
Imagine every living person possessed abilities far greater than they were able to acknowledge. That we could all see and interact with each plane of existence. Those who may be referred to as gifted, the ones who see and hear things beyond the realm of the living, those who experience a feeling of dread right before a disaster occurs, or who feel the presence of something when they are completely alone, it isn’t that they possess a supernatural power, simply that they are less able to inhibit their brains natural intrinsic abilities.
One of the most basic instincts possessed by the living is self-preservation. Maybe that is what prevents them from crossing over each plane. That dark alley that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, the hole in the crawl space that generates the fight or flight response, that part of the forest devoid of singing birds and chirping bugs, the secluded beach or sunny pasture that fills your heart with an inexplicable sense of contentment and peace, all glimpses of the interweaving of two planes.
Good versus evil is an age-old concept, one derived from a truth that has, over time, become a twisted and convoluted version of its former self. I do think that good and evil absolutely exist, but human beings are not born with a predisposition for either. Rather, our souls consist of elements of both. Every being has a balance of both good and evil within. Laws, cultural norms, and social constructs manipulate us into a desire to attain a label of good. To be perceived as righteous, and of high moral standing, and why? Because we are always answerable to a higher power. Anything that deviates from this has dire consequences. If no legal or social ramifications materialize then the belief is that the cosmos, as a whole, will transpire against you, like there is a vengeful universe examining our every move in the hope of detecting any digressions to warrant inflicting some karmic damnation upon the perpetrator of such wrong doings.
Every now and again we catch sight of our darker instincts, some even embrace it. Not every crime is committed out of necessity, not every abuser was once abused, not every serial killer suffered a traumatic head injury. Nurturing our narcissistic impulses, inflicting mental or physical torture for pleasure, annihilating an entire race in the name of ideology, are all perfect examples.
Years ago I visited a psychic, a creepily good one. The rationale behind this meeting was to connect with lost loved ones, in particular a friend who had dies very young. She shared a lot of information but one piece in specifically stuck with me and not in a good way.
She stated that when we die, and pass into whatever afterlife there is, we cease to be who we were. That scared me. The only way my brain allowed me to accept the very natural act of dying was to focus on reuniting with lost loved ones. I found writing about this extremely therapeutic, I’m still not entirely at peace with what she said, but I’m definitely getting there.
Yes, indeed, yer boi Scalzi got splurge-y recently and picked up two new pieces of tech, which both arrived today within minutes of each other, namely, an M4 Mac Air (in the extremely subtle Sky Blue colorway) and a new Pixel 10 Pro, this one in the moonstone colorway.
Why the new tech? In the case of the Mac Air, well, it turns out my 16-inch Mac Pro is not exactly a paragon of portability (which is not entirely a surprise to me, I bought essentially as a desktop which I could occasionally lug about when I needed to), and the other more portable laptop I had (a 2019 Dell XPS 13) has come to the end of its travel life in terms of its battery being able to hold a charge. My iPad Pro has a Magic Keyboard and for the last couple of years I’ve been using it as a travel laptop, and it’s been fine, as long as I don’t have actual work I want to do — the keyboard, it turns out, isn’t comfortable for long writing sessions, and the entire setup is unwieldy and top-heavy in any event. It’s not a stellar laptop, as it were.
I have a new novel due at the end of November and a lot of travel between now and then, so I needed something small and light that is actually comfortable to type on while I’m on the road. I was vaguely thinking about a Chromebook (I had a Pixelbook back in the day and in many ways it was my favorite laptop ever), but for novel writing/editing I need a version of Word that’s not dependent on an online connection, because a lot of the puddle-jumpers I fly on while on tour don’t have Internet. None of the current Windows laptops thrill me, and from a technology point of view they’re at an inflection point anyway as they move over to an ARM processing architecture. I kinda don’t want to be in the middle of that right now (and for those people holding a finger up for Linux, please put it down, remember I said I need Word, and no, Libre/OpenOffice doesn’t count for my purposes).
The Mac Air M4, it turns out, is pretty much spot-on in what I’m needing in a travel laptop: The right size, perfectly functional for what I need, excellent battery life and reasonably future-proofed in having Apple’s most recent chip. I don’t plan on using it for heavy processing work (I have my ridiculously over-specced Mac Pro for that), so its relatively modest specs are fine. Plus it doesn’t tip over when I put it in my lap. It’s good! And also, good enough! And that’s what I’m looking for. The only thing I don’t like about it at the moment are that its USB-C ports are only on one side. That’s not exactly a dealbreaker.
As for the Pixel 10 Pro, that is indeed an actual splurge. I update my phones annually when it’s not necessary, mostly because I want the latest tech updates, which this year include some improvements in camera processing and some user interface upgrades (some claiming to be “AI” because everything has to be “AI” now, doesn’t it) I’m interested in trying out. That said, I shattered my Pixel 9 Pro screen a while back and after its repair it’s had some wifi connectivity issues — I think I may have knocked something loose in there — so an upgrade will probably mean I’m done with that particular problem.
(This is where I acknowledge it’s nice to be at a place in my life where I’m able to get a new tech when it is convenient for me to do so. I don’t take it for granted.)
In the reasonably near future I’ll probably have more to say about the day-to-day use of these new bits of tech, particularly the new phone, so be looking for those at some point. Until then: New tech! Yay! As a nerd, today feels a little like Christmas, even if I had to be my own Santa for it.
Since we got a few questions about the kittens’ health and our plans for them moving forward, I thought I’d just address a couple of those questions real quick!
I took all three to the vet, and all of them got weighed, their hearts listened to, tested for FeLV and FIV, got their rabies shot and a leukemia shot, and given some flea/tick/ear mite medicine. And the diluted tortie got some extra medication for her eye because she has one irritated, goopy eye currently. Other than icky ears and one icky eye, the cats are in really good shape and cancer free!
Someone asked about if we were planning to get them fixed, and while that was originally the plan, the vet said they are actually a little too young still, and will need to be fixed in another month or two.
All of them were great sports at the vet despite having blood drawn and getting shots, no one complained or meowed or hissed the entire time. I’m so happy they weren’t spicy little kitties, because when they’re at home they’re the sweetest cuddlebugs and I didn’t want them to end up having bad manners at the vet.
Someone also asked if we had names for them, and I did come up with temporary names for them, but their new owners will surely end up picking new ones for them.
The calico is just Callie. It’s not original or creative, but it was the first one I came up with out of all of them, since it’s the most obvious. The diluted tortie is Brown Sugar, an affectionate play on our cat Sugar, who the diluted tortie looks a lot like, but is more brown. So, Brown Sugar it is. And finally, my most favoritest, Shoyu. In the sun, this black kitty turns a beautiful dark brown color, like soy sauce.
Here they are, sleepy and a bit lethargic after their check-up and vaccines. Soon they will be going to their new homes. I will miss them terribly.
The idea of watching hours upon hours of video essay content over media I’ve never even seen sounds absolutely wild, and yet I have done it, and I am here to recommend the same to you. Specifically, Jenny Nicholson has an amazing talent of making the most random topics extremely entertaining, to the point where I literally laugh out loud and come back to the same videos over and over again.
Jenny has exceptional delivery, completely valid critiques of the media she’s talking about, her editing skills really contribute to the humor of the video, and she really commits to the bit by dressing up as whatever she’s talking about. I appreciate her thorough examinations of the media, and the amount of time and energy she puts into the research of the media before she talks about it.
Beyond the critiques and humor, I honestly just really like how she speaks. There’s a lot of good content on YouTube that is unwatchable to me because of the creator’s voice grating me the wrong way. I like Jenny’s voice and her soft-spoken-ness, I like the speed at which she speaks, and her general cadence. She is pleasant to listen to and even when I’m not watching her I like to listen to her videos when I drive sometimes.
My most favorite of her videos, and the one I’ve seen over a dozen times at this point, is her video over The Vampire Diaries:
I watched four seasons (well, three and a half) of The Vampire Diaries when I was a young teen, but even if you haven’t seen any of it, I can’t recommend this video enough. Not only is absolutely hilarious, but she goes over everything so thoroughly that you’re sure to be an expert on the show and all of its many, many flaws by the end.
I think the most interesting part of the video is that she doesn’t just talk about the show itself, but the books it was based on, the author and the company that published her, and even the video game. Yes, there is a video game, and yes, it’s just as bad as you’re imagining.
I also always crack up at her video over this very strange church’s theatrical performances:
She and I have so many of the same opinions, she says everything I think but says it better. She honestly just nails it, every time.
There are a lot of content creators that I feel like seem like really cool people and I’m sure are nice and all, but very few that I feel like I could genuinely be really good friends with. Jenny seriously feels like someone I’d really enjoy hanging out with, and seems super cool and nice. I love when a creator feels really personable and friendly, it just makes me enjoy their videos that much more!
I hope you’ll give her videos a try, and enjoy them as much as I do. They’re honestly comfort watches for me at this point.
Have you seen The Vampire Diaries? Or Dear Evan Hansen? Did you like The Rise of Skywalker? Let me know in the comments, and have a great day!
Most grandmas play bingo, but author Josh Rountree’s grandma had a more occult hobby. Come along in his Big Idea as he tells you about ghosts, Texas, and his grandma, and how it all led to the creation of his newest novel, Summer in the House of the Departed.
JOSH ROUNTREE:
I do my best to put my heart on the page with every book and story I write, but Summer in the House of the Departed is especially dear to me.
The Big Idea for this one was simple – I wanted to write a story about a boy and his grandmother, whiling away the last weeks of her life in a haunted house while she tries to solve the mystery of death. But there is more to it than that.
This little boy was me. And the grandmother was mine.
Sort of.
I grew up in a small West Texas town. Way out in the middle of nowhere would not be an inaccurate way to describe it. My grandmother was a high school teacher in that same town who never met a stranger, and was beloved by her students. She taught English and Spanish and Folklore. And, sometime in her middle age, she started hunting for ghosts.
That wasn’t really something that was done in that place, in those days. But soon enough, she became well known for collecting stories. People would write her, call her on the phone, come knocking on the door. She was the “ghost lady” and people knew she would listen if they reached out to her with their weirdest stories.
Soon enough she was going on ghost hunts of her own. I recall her telling me a story about her hanging out in the middle of the night by a lake, looking for La Llorona. She had tons of cassette tapes with subject interviews, people telling their stories, and in some cases, ghostly noises she’d captured. She shared all of this with me, apart from anything she thought too frightening for a kid my age.
The scary stuff was the good stuff, though.
She planned to collect a lot of these stories in a book, but she passed away when I was a teenager, and was never able to finish. For many years, I had the Big Idea that I’d pull all that together some day. Finish that book. But I’m not much of a non-fiction writer, and I wasn’t sure where to even start.
Still, the idea of doing something with her stories, and with those memories, hung on through the years. And eventually I decided to approach it through my fiction.
Let’s be clear – Summer in the House of the Departed is entirely a work of fiction. Nothing in this story really happened this way, or at least not much of it. But the book is alive with my memories of my grandmother, and the little boy in this book bears a pretty striking resemblance to me, way back in 1981.
The portal in the sky. The occult rituals. I added all that stuff.
But the ghosts? Those all belong to my grandmother.
We left the door open to the room in which the kittens are staying, and Charlie came up to the kiddie gate, wanting to see what was up. The kittens saw her and were understandably curious. It was all polite! No kittens were unduly freaked out, or eaten!
(Not that Charlie would do such a thing. She lives with cats already. She knows what they’re about.)
Big day for the foster kittens today, as they are off to the vet. I expect they will pass their examinations with flying colors.
One wrong turn doesn’t mean you’re going the wrong way entirely, and in author Deva Fagan’s case, her wrong turns ended up steering her exactly where she needed to be. Follow along in the Big Idea for her newest novel, House of Dusk, as she takes you through the winding path that led to its creation.
DEVA FAGAN:
I’ve had a thing for labyrinths ever since I first saw and fell in love with Jim Henson’s movie Labyrinth (and not just because of the possibility that I might find David Bowie prancing around one of them).
Part of what I loved was the word itself. We often use labyrinth and maze interchangeably, but they can also have very different meanings. Mazes are composed of false turns meant to confuse, to lead you astray, to entrap you. Labyrinths are slow spirals leading you ever towards the center, often used as a meditative tool for self-reflection.
In other words, you lose yourself in a maze, but you find yourself in a labyrinth.
And that’s where my Big Idea came from: a vision of an underworld where the spirits of the dead must navigate a seemingly endless labyrinth where they face all the emotional baggage that they brought with them from life. If they can leave those hates and sorrows and regrets behind, they find the center and are set free. If not, they risk wandering forever or being devoured by soul-devouring demons.
I knew it would be the key ingredient in a bigger story, an epic fantasy with a rich, complicated world and flawed but loveable characters. I just needed to find the book it belonged in.
Today, over twenty years later, that book, House of Dusk, is finally out in the world.
Why did it take twenty years? Apparently I had to walk a creative labyrinth myself, in order to find the center of this story; to give up the baggage of bad ideas and refine the good. Though honestly it felt more like a maze, most of the time. I kept taking one wrong turn after another. And by wrong turn, I mean writing entire full-length book drafts that I ultimately had to throw away. Here’s a summary: Wrong Turn #1: The Blade of Atropos
The story of a warrior princess with daddy issues trying to rescue a tithe of young people being sent to an enemy nation (à la Theseus and the Minotaur, in keeping with the labyrinth theme). It wasn’t a terrible book, but the worldbuilding was more interesting than the characters, and I was drawing too directly from actual Greek mythology, rather than building my own cosmology.
Wrong Turn #2: The Obsidian Shield
The story of a warrior princess with daddy issues AND a bunch of emotional baggage and regrets. I honestly can’t remember what her goal was, which probably means it wasn’t nearly as exciting as I thought it was. But I’m glad I went down this wrong turn, because it’s where I found a pair of characters I loved: a brother forced to become a brutal assassin in order to safeguard his sister, a sibyl being controlled and manipulated by powerful men.
Wrong Turn #3: Poison Maid
The story of a poison-skinned nun who has to team up with an enemy prince to bring about the long-awaited rebirth of the Phoenix-god and the downfall of an ancient evil. In this version the sibyl is the prince’s sister, and is mostly comic relief. Also there’s an adorable sphinx! This is the first version where I finally realized I ought to have one of the characters actually go into the Labyrinth of Souls rather than just talking about this cool thing and never showing it on the page.
Wrong Turn #4: Tears of Blood and Ash
In this version, the sibyl is now the nun (and brotherless!), and she’s watched over by a maid who is secretly a spy with a lot of emotional baggage. The two women end up having to ally to thwart their enemies, and ultimately travel together into the Labyrinth of Souls, where they each must confront their demons (and I finally realized that they were secretly in love with each other).
Finally Finding the Center: House of Dusk
At last! I found my two protagonists: Sephre, the aging war hero who fled to a monastic life seeking redemption for her past misdeeds, and Yeneris, the spy posing as a bodyguard, slowly falling for an enemy princess whose prophetic visions are the key to her brutal father’s power. So that’s how I finally found my way through the labyrinth. It was a long and often disheartening journey, but I know that House of Dusk would not be the book it is today without all those wrong turns. I worked hard to make this big idea into reality, and I’m so grateful and proud that it’s out in the world now.
Yes, yes, I know, you don’t care about anything I or Athena might have to say about anything else, you want to know how the kittens are. And the answer is: Pretty good! They are comfortable in their room, they are eating a ridiculous amount and pooping an equally ridiculous amount, and their socialization is coming along very well indeed. The black kitten and the calico kitten are absolute snugglebugs at this point, and the tortie, who was initially reluctant to let any human near her, has come around to liking being petted and snuggled, but wants to give the appearance that she is under duress as you do so. Your purring gives you away, Tortie! We’re on to you!
I know that many of you are wanting/hoping that these delightful kittens will be foster fails and that you will have three more official Scamperbeasts rocketing around the Scalzi Compound, but I’m happy to say it looks like we have found homes for them, so after their vet visit to make sure they’re as healthy as they appear to be, we’ll make arrangements for them to be off to their new and loving families. This is happy news for the kittens, who now will have better lives than just hanging around a parking lot.
This is the true harbinger of the change of the season. Not the cooler temperatures, not the kiddos returning to school, not the imminent arrival of Labor Day weekend; no, it’s when the Pumpkin Spice Cappuccino powder mix is added to the flavored coffee machine and the little sticker slapped over the usual “Skinny French Vanilla” sticker.
The Pumpkin Spice sticker will remain there until mid-November at least, when it will be replaced with the Candy Cane Cappuccino sticker, or whatever the hell they’re calling their holiday-themed coffee powder this year. But until then! Pumpkin Spice shall reign supreme!
I'll start with the tl;dr summary to make sure everyone sees it and then explain further: As of September 1, we will temporarily be forced to block access to Dreamwidth from all IP addresses that geolocate to Mississippi for legal reasons. This block will need to continue until we either win the legal case entirely, or the district court issues another injunction preventing Mississippi from enforcing their social media age verification and parental consent law against us.
Mississippi residents, we are so, so sorry. We really don't want to do this, but the legal fight we and Netchoice have been fighting for you had a temporary setback last week. We genuinely and honestly believe that we're going to win it in the end, but the Fifth Circuit appellate court said that the district judge was wrong to issue the preliminary injunction back in June that would have maintained the status quo and prevented the state from enforcing the law requiring any social media website (which is very broadly defined, and which we definitely qualify as) to deanonymize and age-verify all users and obtain parental permission from the parent of anyone under 18 who wants to open an account.
Netchoice took that appellate ruling up to the Supreme Court, who declined to overrule the Fifth Circuit with no explanation -- except for Justice Kavanaugh agreeing that we are likely to win the fight in the end, but saying that it's no big deal to let the state enforce the law in the meantime.
Needless to say, it's a big deal to let the state enforce the law in the meantime. The Mississippi law is a breathtaking state overreach: it forces us to verify the identity and age of every person who accesses Dreamwidth from the state of Mississippi and determine who's under the age of 18 by collecting identity documents, to save that highly personal and sensitive information, and then to obtain a permission slip from those users' parents to allow them to finish creating an account. It also forces us to change our moderation policies and stop anyone under 18 from accessing a wide variety of legal and beneficial speech because the state of Mississippi doesn't like it -- which, given the way Dreamwidth works, would mean blocking people from talking about those things at all. (And if you think you know exactly what kind of content the state of Mississippi doesn't like, you're absolutely right.)
Needless to say, we don't want to do that, either. Even if we wanted to, though, we can't: the resources it would take for us to build the systems that would let us do it are well beyond our capacity. You can read the sworn declaration I provided to the court for some examples of how unworkable these requirements are in practice. (That isn't even everything! The lawyers gave me a page limit!)
Unfortunately, the penalties for failing to comply with the Mississippi law are incredibly steep: fines of $10,000 per user from Mississippi who we don't have identity documents verifying age for, per incident -- which means every time someone from Mississippi loaded Dreamwidth, we'd potentially owe Mississippi $10,000. Even a single $10,000 fine would be rough for us, but the per-user, per-incident nature of the actual fine structure is an existential threat. And because we're part of the organization suing Mississippi over it, and were explicitly named in the now-overturned preliminary injunction, we think the risk of the state deciding to engage in retaliatory prosecution while the full legal challenge continues to work its way through the courts is a lot higher than we're comfortable with. Mississippi has been itching to issue those fines for a while, and while normally we wouldn't worry much because we're a small and obscure site, the fact that we've been yelling at them in court about the law being unconstitutional means the chance of them lumping us in with the big social media giants and trying to fine us is just too high for us to want to risk it. (The excellent lawyers we've been working with are Netchoice's lawyers, not ours!)
All of this means we've made the extremely painful decision that our only possible option for the time being is to block Mississippi IP addresses from accessing Dreamwidth, until we win the case. (And I repeat: I am absolutely incredibly confident we'll win the case. And apparently Justice Kavanaugh agrees!) I repeat: I am so, so sorry. This is the last thing we wanted to do, and I've been fighting my ass off for the last three years to prevent it. But, as everyone who follows the legal system knows, the Fifth Circuit is gonna do what it's gonna do, whether or not what they want to do has any relationship to the actual law.
We don't collect geolocation information ourselves, and we have no idea which of our users are residents of Mississippi. (We also don't want to know that, unless you choose to tell us.) Because of that, and because access to highly accurate geolocation databases is extremely expensive, our only option is to use our network provider's geolocation-based blocking to prevent connections from IP addresses they identify as being from Mississippi from even reaching Dreamwidth in the first place. I have no idea how accurate their geolocation is, and it's possible that some people not in Mississippi might also be affected by this block. (The inaccuracy of geolocation is only, like, the 27th most important reason on the list of "why this law is practically impossible for any site to comply with, much less a tiny site like us".)
If your IP address is identified as coming from Mississippi, beginning on September 1, you'll see a shorter, simpler version of this message and be unable to proceed to the site itself. If you would otherwise be affected, but you have a VPN or proxy service that masks your IP address and changes where your connection appears to come from, you won't get the block message, and you can keep using Dreamwidth the way you usually would.
On a completely unrelated note while I have you all here, have I mentioned lately that I really like ProtonVPN's service, privacy practices, and pricing? They also have a free tier available that, although limited to one device, has no ads or data caps and doesn't log your activity, unlike most of the free VPN services out there. VPNs are an excellent privacy and security tool that every user of the internet should be familiar with! We aren't affiliated with Proton and we don't get any kickbacks if you sign up with them, but I'm a satisfied customer and I wanted to take this chance to let you know that.
Again, we're so incredibly sorry to have to make this announcement, and I personally promise you that I will continue to fight this law, and all of the others like it that various states are passing, with every inch of the New Jersey-bred stubborn fightiness you've come to know and love over the last 16 years. The instant we think it's less legally risky for us to allow connections from Mississippi IP addresses, we'll undo the block and let you know.
A few weeks ago, my friend invited me to come to an amusement park with her. If you are an Ohioan or even in the neighboring states, you know that we are top of the game in the rollercoaster world. We were heading to Kings Island, which we both have gold passes for, so it was no trouble to drive a little south and ride some coasters.
The night before going to the park, I looked at the weather forecast and saw that it was going to be a brisk 90 degrees outside. Obviously, I would need to wear shorts and a t-shirt. However, it had been like, two weeks since I last shaved my legs, so obviously I was going to have to do that beforehand. But truth be told, I really didn’t feel like it. I didn’t want to shave my legs, but I had to if I was going to wear shorts the next day.
This thought process made me uncomfortable. Why was I so convinced that it was something that I had to do, a qualifier to meet if I wanted to wear shorts? Why was I telling myself that it was unacceptable to wear shorts unless I did something that I really didn’t even feel like doing?
For as long as I have been shaving my legs, which has been about fifteen years, I have always felt that it was something that I wanted to do. I don’t like having body hair, and I’ve always said that it’s just a personal preference for myself. Not having hairy legs is what makes me more comfortable in my body, and that’s just how it’s always been. So shaving my legs always made sense to me because it was something that I wanted for myself and for my body.
This was the first time I had thought to myself that I didn’t want to do it. And it was immediately met with, “well, I have to.” I do not like how that sounds! I don’t like my brain telling me that, because it made me question if the decision to shave was less of a personal choice than I thought all along. I also started to fear that everyone at the park would see my two-week-unshaven-legs and think I was some disgusting beast, some radical hippie that didn’t shower, all sorts of negative things.
I had been convinced that I had been shaving for me, not for others, but I don’t think that’s true anymore. I think I was, in fact, shaving for society. I do still think that I was shaving for me, too, because I really meant it when I said I don’t like body hair on myself, but how much of that “personal preference” is bias from society in the first place? Would I dislike body hair on myself even if the societal views on women having hairy legs was completely different? How many of our choices are really just society’s choices that we’ve convinced ourselves are our own ideals? Who’s to say?
I didn’t like that I felt obligated to do something, so I decided the best course of action was to not do it. Off to Kings Island I went, in shorts, with unshaven legs.
It made me uncomfortable. It was genuinely difficult to move through the world in a way that I felt was going to cause me to be judged by others. All day, I kept looking down at my legs, thinking I should’ve just shaved and then I wouldn’t feel so bad. But that’s not right, and I knew it.
I had to keep telling myself that it’s not my problem if other people are bothered by my leg hair. It’s not my responsibility to shave to make strangers more comfortable. If someone doesn’t like looking at me, they can avert their gaze.
I do not have to make myself uncomfortable to make others more so.
Having leg hair is harmless. I’m not hurting anyone by having it. In fact, it comes naturally on just about everyone. And we would never expect a man to not have it, or to shave it to make others more comfortable, so why the fuck should I have to? If men can walk around in their too-many-pockets-cargo-shorts with leg hair longer than their head hair, so can I.
Even though I just said all that, I think the hardest part for me is that I don’t actually want to have long leg hair, I don’t want to dye my armpit hair, or anything “radical” like that, I just want to feel okay with myself if I haven’t shaved for a week or two. I just want the option to not have to, without the self-consciousness that comes with it. I want to wear shorts when it’s hot and have stubble and not feel like there’s something inherently wrong and disgusting about me. I want to shave for me. Actually for me.
It’s not easy to change over ten years of mindset, thinking, and habits, but now’s a good time to start. Won’t you join me?
Me, trying to explain to Spice that the reason I’m spending so much time with the foster kittens is that they have to be socialized to human contact, not because I love them more than the other cats in the house. Spice is, shall we say, unconvinced. I just pray that somehow, we will get through this moment of relationship tension. Perhaps a Churu will help.
(The foster kittens are doing great, thanks for asking.)
Many years ago, I had a dream and that I was singing “Yellow” by Coldplay while accompanying myself on guitar, and eventually a crowd surrounded me and sang along. When the song was done, I looked to the assembled crowd and said how wonderful it was that we were all singing along. And someone said, “we weren’t singing along with you. We were trying to drown you out.”
Anyway, here’s me singing “Yellow” by Coldplay. And yes, I played guitar on it. So there!
The weekend is here and that’s a fine time to catch up with a book! Here are this week’s new books and ARCs that have come to the Scalzi Compound. What’s calling to you? Share in the comments!
I took off a week ago Tuesday to fly to Seattle. The trip went well, apart from my flight being moved to 0 Dark Thirty, which was painful. I landed at our hotel, rendezvoused with the Merriams and we headed off to the Chihuly Museum and the Museum of Pop Culture. For those playing along at home, that means that on 4 hours of sleep, I rode in a car, a plane, a monorail and a train in a day. But it was delightful! I hadn't been to the Chihuly Museum before - many of the exhibits were lovely. I had been to the Museum of Pop Culture before, back when my friend Brooks was the curator of the sf and f collection and enjoyed it. This time was fun as well, if a tad crowded.
After that, I picked up my reg stuff and met Nicole Kimberling of Blindeye Books for dinner at the ASEAN Food Hall. We had a long chat and got caught up; we last got to hang out pre-lockdown so it's been awhile. She puts out some excellent books - check them out! And when I got back, my friend and roomie for the weekend, Hugo Award Finalist Heather Rose Jones had arrived so we got caught up. Next day, I was on the queer-coded villains panel, which was fun. Then it was off to a delightful lunch with the glorious "steampunk personalities" (as we were all dubbed in The Steampunk Explorer), Madame Askew and the Grand Arbiter and one of their friends. I puttered around the con running into people, including hanging out with with my pals Rob and Peter from D.C, and dropping books off at the Liminal Fiction table in the Dealer's Room before heading out to meet my friend Brooks and his sweetie Lisa for dinner. Then Brooks and I were off to the Clarion West party at Hugo House. Got to chat with a bunch of folks there, including Casey Blair, who I hadn't seen for a few years, including Charlie Jane Anders and more, as well as hanging out with Jennie Goloboy and meeting Astrid Bear.
Thursday was my "light" day so I went to Concurrent at the Union Theater for an interesting panel on publishing short fiction. A friend who was on the panel became ill so I sat with her for awhile after the panel. Multiple people checked in and fortunately, she was doing better after some rest so after checking a couple of times, I got her a Lyft and sent her back to her hotel. She was doing much better all weekend so I was very glad that things turned around! I think I went to a good panel on Medieval Women Writers after that and the art show and such. I had lunch with my former editor and friend, Evan J. Peterson, an hour or so before he found out that he was a finalist for the Endeavor Award. I did some more puttering about and spent some time with delightful pals Monica Valentinelli, Matt McElroy and LaShawn Wanak. After that, it was off to dinner with Heather, the Merriams, Jody Wurl and her friend Cynthia. Friday was my Table Talk, which was fun! Someone showed up to talk about my gaming, someone else stopped by to ask about the werewolf books and another person wanted to talk publishing. Then I grabbed lunch with LaShawn and worked a shift at the Liminal Fiction table, where I finally met J. Scott Coatsworth in person. Then I got to hang out with Martha Wells and her husband for a nice chat. After that, I went off to a fun-filled Seattle Underground tour with the Merriams.
Saturday was my reading, which could have gone better (I had a coughing fit), but was well attended. I chatted with folks and sold some books, which was nice. I met up with various folks (apologies for things blurring a bit by then), worked another table shift, did some other things, then went and did the Joanna Russ panel. It went well - lot of good discussion and some anecdotes.
I then grabbed dinner and went back to our room to watch the Hugo Awards. A brief pause from general goodwill: I watched the first 45 minutes of the ceremony with the sound on, got tired of the song repetition and the mispronunciations of finalist names and switched to captions. So I missed the part where the editorial staff of Khoreo got skipped over and the Lodestar finalist was skipped completely and a bunch of things covered elsewhere. I will just say that when GRRM mangled multiple finalist names at the 2020 Hugo Awards in New Zealand, there was an understandable hue and cry about it and it was deemed highly disrespectful (which it was). This is no different and the impacted finalists are due an apology. Also: for the love of whatever you hold sacred, Hugo Admins, address the damn issue. Hire transcriptionists, compel the hosts to practice names, record the names ahead of time, but DO SOMETHING so we stop experiencing this frankly xenophobic nonsense every year. EDITED: turns out the Hugo Awards Committee may have done things to address this and the issues lie more squarely at the door of the presenters and possibly the on the ground folks administering the awards.
Sunday, I went to a panel on romantasy, then had lunch with Heather (who did not win, but enjoyed herself anyway). Then we toddled off to the Amtrak station where Jody, the Merriams and I ran into local author powerhouse Pat Wrede. We all hung out until we boarded the bus to Spokane (there were train issues) for a four hour trip across the state of Washington. They did let us board the train and get into the sleepers around 10 even though the train wasn't leaving until 1AM. I got a couple of hours of broken napping, then roused Jody from the upper bunk so we could grab breakfast before watching morning over Glacier National Park. It was glorious!
The rest of the trip was lively. The dining car ran out of most food because they were supposed to stock up in Seattle, but couldn't. Staff was very stiff upper lip about it and did the best they could and we were sympathetic (and tipped). I didn't get much sleep what with the train rattling and all, but Monday night was better than Saturday. All in all, though, it was a fun expedition and I'm glad I did it! Big shoutout to Tony for picking up Jody and Kevin for picking up the rest of us to go home.
I'm currently in the midst of a two day women in publishing virtual conference and scrambling to get caught up on sundries. Still job hunting, but unemployment came through so that helps a bunch. Tomorrow, more conference and other things, before going to the State Fair with my friend Matt. More updates on the conference as soon as it wraps!
The other day Athena noted that kittens had shown up in the parking lot of Bryant’s apartment. Sadly, between then and now one of the kittens succumbed to the dangers of outside living, and Athena and Bryant decided it was time to snatch the remaining trio of kittens and move them to a safer environment, i.e., our basement guest room. That cat-napping took place this afternoon and now we have the three kittens in the house. Here they are:
First, this cute little calico;
Then this dilute tortie;
And also this personality-filled black kitten.
We’re isolating them from the rest of the cats in the house until we can get them to the vet next week, but they certainly seem healthy and, once they got over being snatched and transported somewhere they’ve never been before, calm and baseline-level kittenish. The calico and tortie are almost certainly girl cats, genetically speaking; the black kitten is currently of indeterminate sex but I would bet on it being a boy. The three of them get along pretty well, which considering how Athena and Bryant found them, is not entirely surprising.
The plan now is to take them to the vet, confirm that they are healthy, and then either find them new homes or surrender them to a no-kill shelter. We can maybe take one of them (likely the black cat), but we’re also all right letting the entire trio go to safe and welcoming homes. So: If any of you are looking for a kitten (or two!), and can show up to take them away, we’ve got some available for you! Drop me an email (john@scalzi.com) and we can talk. These kittens are, as the kids no longer say, totes adorbs. They would love to come home with you.
Author Jane Harrington has more in store today than a book. In her Big Idea she brings us a history lesson, one that will change how you see the entire genre of fairy tales. Follow along to see how teaching this lesson to college students led to the creation of her new book, Women of the Fairy Tale Resistance.
JANE HARRINGTON:
The desire to restore the legacies of marginalized women writers in history was the impetus for this book. And anger.
Some years ago I was called upon to teach a college literature course, and though I’m generally more comfortable teaching writing than lit, I thought, Okay, how about fairy tales? I knew my Perrault, Grimms, Andersen, and Disney, so I could put together something decent enough. It would be fun! But it wasn’t long into the first term before not-so-fun questions started poking at my brain.
One was Why do male writers overwhelmingly dominate the history of fairy tales? The only so-called classic tale with female authorship is “Beauty and the Beast.” And Why do we even call these stories fairy tales? I mean, you can count on one hand how many fairies appear in the combined works of the aforenamed fathers of the genre. Turns out the answer to both questions is the same: because the women writers who were responsible for the popularity of fairy tales—and who coined the term itself, contes de fées (because they were French)—were axed from the canon in favor of male writers. And, yes, there were fairies in every one of their seventy-plus tales.
My first glimpse of these women was in the margins of English-language folklore scholarship, which tends to focus on German, i.e., Grimm-ish, roots, and thus can lack depth in other areas. What was said about them was scant, somewhat dismissive, and (I would only learn later) often inaccurate. But they were female fairy-talers—conteuses, they called themselves—and I wanted to include them in my course.
So began my quest, which involved walls of books growing around me, thanks to an excellent university library and charming librarians who conjured up dozens of physical volumes from beyond the collection. And then there were all the electronic texts, archival and otherwise. Much of what I had to read was in French, a language I’m far from fluent in, but I wasn’t going to let that get between me and the stories of these writers. Truth is, it’s hard for even the fluent to nail down these histories, but more on that in the book.
Some broad strokes of what I learned: The conteuses wrote not only fairy tales but novels, historical fiction, plays, essays, and poetry. Their works were wildly popular, as were the writers themselves, who hosted literary salons in Paris. There they crafted the contes de fées that would usher in the first fairy tale vogue. Charles Perrault attended these salons, too, writing his “Mother Goose” tales from the prompts offered by these women. He produced one slim book, which came out at the same time as the women’s voluminous output, and yet he is the one history remembers from that birth of a genre.
Why were the women left out of the fairy tale canon? Well, all I’ll say here is that it mostly had to do with the misogynistic, homophobic, and ultra-conservative religiosity of Louis XIV’s reign. The conteuses were always under threat of not only losing their pens but their physical freedom. Exiles from Paris were common, as were lengthy stints in convents for mauvaise conduite—being an unruly woman.
Examples of unruliness: writing poems that insulted the king, trying to stop the abuse of a husband (with no recourse in the law), gambling, cussing, engaging in same-sex relationships. For the latter, one of the women was imprisoned in a cell in a medieval castle-turned-prison. Yes, in a tower. And yes, she’d written tales of young women trapped in towers. Only in her tales—and unlike her—the characters eventually prevailed over despotic forces.
So, anger. Probably no surprise here, but the more I learned about these women, the more incensed I became over how men of the patriarchy had disrupted their livelihoods and their lives, some even chipping away at their legacies long after the women were dead (think Voltaire). I kept a list, and before I’d even finished Women of the Fairy Tale Resistance I had a plan: The conteuses would get vengeance on their oppressors in a salon in the afterlife—a quirky novel of the speculative-historical-literary variety. My working title: Women of the Fairy Tale Revenge.
And who better to enjoy them than Charlie? Honestly, this is a master class right here in making the most of a waning summer season. Get to it, Charlie!
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[syndicated profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/feed.png){kind=small}
scalziwhatever_feed
Since we got a few questions about the kittens’ health and our plans for them moving forward, I thought I’d just address a couple of those questions real quick!
![[staff profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user_staff.png){kind=small}
![[site community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/comm_staff.png){kind=small}
