I'm Jade! Former appblr. Now using this as a dumping ground for all the stuff I like. Which is mostly fandom obsessing, plus some math and sciencey stuff.
harry could be anglicised form of hari, which is another name for the indian god vishnu who reincarnates on earth to restore justice
potter could be anglicised potdar or potluri
the night he died, james was making pretty-colored lights for harry 31 october 1981 was deepavali, the indian festival of lights
fleamont potter making money through potions after coming from india as a first gen. immigrant
fleamont potter made hair potions which was really just charmed coconut oil
people would notice harry’s green eyes all the time if he was half desi
when harry has visions through voldemorts eyes that he always distances himself using voldemort’s whiteness or how pale the hand was or something to that effect
unlikely couple james and lily potter prophesied to have a world-saving baby is literally the motif of the indian epic kumarasambhava
harry flying on buckbeak is god vishnu on garuda iconography
You’ll have to ask your DM before you use some of these, as they have a few differences in how they play. I’ve tried to balance them out so there are equal disadvantages and benefits, and make them competent and able adventurers.
• wheelchair user or amputee: they should have the guild artisan background with a proficiency in tinker’s tools, so that they can make themselves a cool prosthetic or a souped-up wheelchair. You can decide specifically what you want the prosthetic or wheelchair’s capabilities to be (ex. Wheelchair user has a base speed of 20ft but a certain number of times per long rest it can turbo boost 75ft and they cannot move through difficult terrain without assistance, or using their boost. The user has disadvantage on dex saves but advantage against being knocked prone, and they cannot move when they use their action to make an attack with two hands until the next turn. A character with a prosthetic hand has disadvantage on dex checks using the hand but advantage on strength with it as well as one casting of burning hands with it per long rest. An unarmed strike using the hand causes 1d8 bludgeoning.)
•PTSD or other disorders that include triggers: when the character encounters their trigger, they must make a wisdom saving throw (set the DC based on how severe the trigger is) or be paralyzed for one round. They have advantage on all other saving throws against fear. During a long rest, roll a d20. On a 1, they suffer one level of exhaustion from nightmares.
•Bipolar disorder, or other disorders including mood swings: at the beginning of each day, roll a d20. On a low roll, the character is depressed for one day, and on a high roll, they are manic. On a 1, they suffer one level of exhaustion and take 1d10 psychic damage. On a 2, they take 1d8 psychic damage. On a 3, they take 1d6, and on a 4, they take 1d4. On a 20, they gain 1d10 temporary hit points and gain 2 rages, equivalent to those of a first level barbarian. On a 19, they gain 1d8, on an 18 they gain 1d6, and on a 17 they gain 1d4.
•depression: at the beginning of each day, roll a d20. On a 1, suffer one level of exhaustion and take 1d10 psychic damage. On a 2, take 1d8 psychic damage. On a 3, take 1d6, and on a 4, take 1d4. They have advantage against being frightened, charmed, or intimidated due to apathy. They have disadvantage on charisma checks and a -2 to initiative.
•autism spectrum disorders: a character with autism has disadvantage on charisma checks, but advantage on saves against being charmed, frightened, intimidated, or confused. They have a number of special interests equal to ½ their level (min 1, max 4). They have disadvantage on intelligence checks for knowledge about social ettiquette, societal structure, etc, but advantage on intelligence checks about their special interests. If a creature has a wisdom score of less than 11, that creature has a hard time understanding them when they try to convey complex ideas, due to their unique thought processes.
•Deaf/HoH: a character that is Deaf or Hard of Hearing can speak any languages granted to them by their race/class/background, but successfully understanding them requires a DC 5 wisdom save, or DC 10 if they are in a loud environment, due to the slightly garbled nature of their speech. They either have disadvantage on or automatically fail perception checks made to listen, depending on the severity of their hearing impairment, but have advantage on perception checks to spot. They are resistant to thunder damage, and are not affected by (or have advantage against, again depending on severity) spells that require the target to hear the caster. They have disadvantage on stealth because they cannot hear themselves. These effects are negated if they are sharing senses with a familiar that is sharing their space.
•Blindness: a blind character has 30 ft blindsight and advantage on perception checks to listen, due to their keen ears. Rather than having to see a creature to target them with a spell or attack, they must be able to hear them, as well as have line of sight if the attack travels in a straight line. They are immune to fear and intimidation effects if the cause is something that must be seen, such as a frightening monster or a fearsome display of strength. Their speed is reduced by 10 and they cannot move through difficult terrain. They have disadvantage on dex saves to dodge spell effects and their AC is lowered by 2 when they are suprised. These effects are negated if they are sharing senses with a familiar or similar that is sharing their space.
Schizophrenia/psychotic disorders: a character with psychotic symptoms has grown used to mental instability. They are resistant to psychic damage and immune to the effects of the spell Dissonant Whispers. They have advantage against fear effects but disadvantage on perception checks due to all the distractions in their minds. They have a -2 to passive perception.
Asthma: asthmatic characters have to make a DC 10 constitution save when dealing with effects like fog cloud, or with heavy amounts of dust, every time they begin their turn in the area. On a fail, they suffer a level of exhaustion. These characters have a keen sense of smell and can tell when they have entered a room or area containing undead, dead bodies, or some kind of sickness.
Amputee variant: by paying 1500 gp or a magic item of Very Rare or higher rarity to a skilled wizard, this amputee is granted a magical limb. It appears to be made of smoke, silver, or radiant light. As an action, if the limb is a hand, it can be detached and used similarly to casting Mage Hand. The character has disadvantage on athletics checks and strength saves using the limb, such as holding on to a ledge if it is a hand or arm, or making a jump if it is a foot or leg. They have advantage on dexterity checks and saving throws using the limb, such as sleight of hand if it is a hand or arm, or stealth if it is a foot or leg. It can become solid or spectral at will, granting the user the ability to reach through doors to unlock them from the inside or block an attack with it as a reaction, granting them a +2 to AC for one attack using nonmagical bludgeoning, slashing, or piercing damage.
AD/HD: when a character with attention deficit problems does a task that involves focus, make a DC10 wisdom save. On a success, they hyperfocus and gain their proficiency bonus on checks to complete the task. On a fail, they cannot focus and take a -2. Their wandering attention gives them a proficiency in perception, but saving throws to maintain concentration have a +2 to the DC.
Anxiety Disorders: characters with anxiety are vulnerable to psychic damage and have disadvantage against intimidation and being frightened. Hypervigilance grants them a base passive perception of 15 instead of 10.
Im really happy people are reblogging this, i want disabled characters to become as common as disabled people, and i hope everyone who would feel less alone reading and playing these to see them :)
Personally, I don’t really see anything wrong with giving Luke to Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru. What else was Obi-Wan gonna do? (He pretty much raised Anakin and look how that turned out, he’s not gonna risk Round 2.) (He could have given both kiddos to Bail and Breha Organa, actually. Luke and Leia Organa is a cool as heck AU.)
I like Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru. As much as people like to say Luke really is Padme’s son, he didn’t get those morals from her. (Keeping in mind I have read no comics or novelizations, and not seen the Clone Wars TV show) It’s pretty clear that Luke’s iron spine and goodness and refusal to abandon his friends come from his upbringing. Owen and Beru Lars are kinda the Ma and Pa Kent of the Star Wars universe.
And they are Luke’s family. Owen is Shmi’s stepson. Owen and Beru probably knew Anakin’s mother for years. It’s a neat circle, and in some ways it has the feelings of an apology, for Obi-Wan to bring Luke back to his family on Tatooine in the same way that Qui-Gon took Anakin. Obi-Wan can’t undo what’s been done, and he can’t start over, but he can give Luke what the Jedi denied Anakin: a loving family and normal upbringing.
Tatooine is Darth Vader’s home planet? Yeah, sure, but did Anakin ever go back to Tatooine? (Probably once or twice, I’m guessing, in the comics at least.) Darth Vader hates that place. Bad memories. Damn sand would fuck up his suit. He’d burn it all down and then the Hutts are gonna be pissed. And how many people actually know that Darth Vader is Anakin Skywalker? Like, about five? (Bail, Obi-Wan, Yoda, R2-D2, and Ahsoka?) Dude is not exactly getting invites to school reunions and the weddings of childhood friends, is all I’m saying.
Even if Darth Vader ever went back to Tatooine, Tatooine is a big place. The Lars Farm is in the middle of nowhere and Obi-Wan is hanging out left of the funky rock five miles past nowhere. Anakin met his stepbrother once in the entire film trilogy and idk if they even exchanged words, much less space e-mail addresses. I kind of doubt that Uncle Owen and Darth Vader are sending each other Life Day e-cards. (That’s really funny, actually.)
Anyway, the point of this rant is that I want you to imagine new parents Owen and Beru Lars caring for toddler Luke, it’s just after Life Day, and someone rings the doorbell. Owen Lars opens up to Darth Vader holding a fruit basket, because he didn’t know what else to do for Life Day and spontaneously decided to visit distant family rather than mope in his Evil Castle again.
(Everything Obi-Wan hoped would never happen, just… happening.)
Owen, after introductions, panicking, “Uh… the suit is… new.”
He has to invite Vader in, because it’s Life Day and how exactly do you tell Darth Vader to fuck off? Then Owen and Beru have a hushed argument in the kitchen while Darth Vader is sitting awkwardly in their living room with a drink that he can’t actually drink but took to be polite. When they come out, they introduce Luke as Luke Whitesun, Beru’s late brother’s kid, which they guess makes Luke… Darth Vader’s… nephew. (They can’t hide him, Vader’s already seen this 2-3 yr old Luke and the house is COVERED in baby and kid stuff.)
And Darth Vader just… fucking falls for it.
And the Lars family has to spend the holidays with Uncle Darth Vader who is super keen to have a step-nephew-in-law. Beru is showing off her cross-stitching to Darth fucking Vader as Luke plays at their feet. Owen is in the kitchen sending a desperate space text to Obi-Wan, who basically has a heart attack on the spot when Owen sends a shitty stealth-pic of Darth Vader on their couch.
Bonus points if the Lars’ don’t even move after this, because Vader left without issue and Uncle Owen afterwards was like, “It turned out fine. I don’t want to move, that’s too much hassle.” So, every major holiday, Luke gets a visit from his Uncle Darth Vader, which works out fine so long as they instigate a “Don’t Talk About Politics” rule when Luke starts getting excited about Rebellions and starts bad-mouthing the Empire (Vader making small talk at a Star Destroyer water cooler to his terrified staff: “Ugh, I’m going to have to debate my liberal 13-yr-old nephew at the dinner table again.”), and Vader even helps with the dishes and stuff, and every time Obi-Wan ages an extra year from stress.
Guys, please, the way this continues is that the general events of the Star Wars universe continue as normal (Leia, having literally just left a space battle: “Darth Vader, the AUDACITY of attacking an innocent diplomatic vessel!”) UNTIL the stormtroopers show up at the Lars Farm. (Luke is desperately chasing down the droids he lost and properly meeting Obi-Wan Kenobi.)
At first, it’s business as usual, y’know? Stormtroopers break down the door and interrogate the occupants and start prepping to burn the place down, and the leader is in the middle of shouting, “TELL US WHERE THE DROIDS A-” when he pauses and just… stares… at the mantlepiece.
Because on the Lars family mantlepiece and walls are, like, a hundred family photos and roughly half of them have Darth Vader in them. There’s Darth Vader wearing a Life Day party hat at a dinner table. There’s Darth Vader holding a toddler and playing with model ships. There’s Darth Vader and a pimply thirteen year old in the stands at the Boonta Eve Classic. There is a cross-stitched pillow on the couch that says OUR FAMILY on it, consisting of a man, a woman, a boy, and Darth fucking Vader.
Stormtrooper Grunt #1: “What… what… what the fuck.”
Aunt Beru, who has HAD it with these guys wrecking her house, already angrily jabbing at their space phone: “I am calling Mr. Vader RIGHT NOW about this.”
Darth Vader, excusing himself from the bridge of his Star Destroyer to take a call from his stepsister-in-law: “Beru. This isn’t a good time-”
Beru: “Well, MAKE TIME, because your stormtroopers broke down our door and tracked SAND all over my nice clean floors and they won’t stop yelling about the droids we just bought! You better have a good explanation for this!”
Darth Vader does not, actually, have a good explanation for this. The stormtroopers can feel his wrath from across the galaxy. It’s a work thing and he’s very sorry and he’ll make the stormtroopers fix their door, but he does really need those droids and could they hand them over, please? He’ll have the Empire compensate them. Yes, he’ll pay them back and send new droids. Yes, kicking doors down is very rude, Beru, you’re absolutely right.
So Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru promise to pick up Luke and the droids, and hop in the spare Landspeeder to go looking for them. Owen is Not Happy to find that Obi-Wan’s given Luke a lightsaber, and Aunt Beru is Not Happy to find out that the Empire’s made some superweapon. Of course they have to get these plans to the Rebellion! Yes, she promised Vader, but he should have told her it was for such a terrible thing! Yes, Owen, they’re all going to Alderaan.
So the Lars family runs away to Mos Eisley and get on the Millennium Falcon to Alderaan, while the stormtroopers are standing around like, “Are they… coming… back???” And Han Solo does not know what the hell is going on or what to do about the Weird Old Wizard talking about “universe-penetrating magic”, or the Grumpy Farmer who keeps trying to fix his “piece of junk” ship that excuse you does not need fixing, or the Sunny Farm Boy waving a light sword around, or the kindly old woman who is currently cross-stitching in his back seat and gossiping with Chewie like he’s not even there.
Later, after the Death Star’s been destroyed, Owen and Beru Lars are now a part of the Rebellion with Luke. Beru sends Darth Vader a piece of fabric in the Space Mail, and it’s the little cross-stitched Vader from her OUR FAMILY pillow who’s been cut out because she’s mad at him. (Except her note says DISAPPOINTED and that’s worse.) Darth Vader is more upset about this than the Emperor being mad at him for the destruction of the Death Star.
This is such a wild ride and I want more.
Please, kind writer, may I have some more?
See, the thing about Uncle Darth Vader is that the Lars family lives in the middle of nowhere Tatooine. Luke has to get his news off his friends, who have to get their news from shitty Space Radio, and the Empire’s suppressing a good three-quarters of the terrible things it does. The Lars family, largely, has no idea who this Darth Vader guy is except that he’s Anakin, who did a bunch of shit in the Clone Wars and he’s evil now? (Obi-Wan is dying, guys. He’s dying.)
Oh, yeah, quick summary: the events on the Death Star proceeded more or less as they did in canon. Except Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru don’t make convincing stormtroopers, so they tagged along with the droids and found the Death Star Laundry Service and dressed up as an Empire officer and his wife on their way to a vacation on Beach Resort Planet. Luke and Han sneaking Leia out is a lot easier with Admiral Lars and his wife loudly complaining to every stormtrooper they come across that their ship isn’t being fixed fast enough and sending stormtroopers marching off in every direction.
(The Empire… does not… have high standards… for officers. It is corrupt as hell. The stormtroopers look at this middle-aged, slightly chubby guy complaining obnoxiously about his ship not being fixed fast enough, and his overbearing wife complaining shrilly about not being able to get their deposit back, and are like, “This is legit. Also, sir, I’m part of sanitation, I don’t fix ships. I don’t know where customer service is… this is a Death Star. We don’t have customer service. Uh, I guess my ‘manager’ would be Admiral Bob??? Oh, well, you’re right, I should go clean up that mess you saw on the other floor. I will agree to literally anything you say to get away from you.”)
So, Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru get to the Rebellion, right? (And they have already adopted the heck out of Leia, who has been given ALL the Aunt Beru hugs.) And someone starts listing off ALL of the awful stuff that Darth Vader has done, like, the dude is SUPER EVIL. And the Lars family is just… what. (And it’s a good thing that Obi-Wan is already dead by this point, or Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru would bring him back just to kill him again.)
Luke goes to destroy the Death Star and Vader is just like, “Luke???? What are you doing???” And Luke is ignoring all of Vader’s attempts to comm him and blows up the Death Star while giving his uncle the cold shoulder.
And later, at the Rebellion, people are like “Darth Vader is your uncle???” And Luke’s just like, “YEAH, AND A LIAR!!!” (Later, Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru will have a long talk with Luke about the truth and the lies they told. And Luke will forgive them because he loves them and they love him, but this doesn’t really change much, especially about how mad he is at his dad.)
Later, when they finally meet again. The rebels are just… completely stunned… because Darth Vader is desperately trying to get through to Luke, like, “Luke, nephew, please, let’s just talk about this. Beru won’t answer my voice mails. Owen unfriended me on Space Chat. We can talk about this.”
And Luke is angrily shooting at Darth Vader and shouting, “What’s there to talk about?! It’s not like you LIED TO US ABOUT EVERYTHING YOU DID BY TELLING US YOU WORKED IN I.T.?!??”
au where the trojan war is a party menelaus throws to win back his girlfriend who left him for some douchebag and he ropes all his friends into helping him and wacky shenanigans happen and a running gag is that odysseus doesn’t even want to be there he’s got shit to do and at the end he gets stuck in traffic on the way home
on the way home odysseus gets into a very minor fender bender that’s more like a fender bumper with some shit driver who is almost DEFINITELY high. and it’s all this guy’s fault but he won’t stop screaming about how he’s gonna fucking sue and odysseus just wants to go the fuck home and the guy goes “I’M FILING THE POLICE REPORT WHO ARE YOU” and odysseus is just so done that he says “nobody” and drives the fuck off and this completely tripping guy ends up screaming to the police at the side of the road at like three in the morning “NOBODY CRASHED INTO MY CAR!!!!!”
- Every company you have ever used is sending you privacy notices. Websites you haven’t visited since 2005 are sending you privacy notices. Memes are sending you privacy notices. Each individual hampster from the Hampster Dance page has sent you a privacy notice.
- The many-eyed skittering creatures that watch you from your nightmares have sent you a privacy notice. “YOU RETAIN CONTROL OF YOUR DATA” it says, in scars that appear on your torso while you are asleep.
- Your well-informed friends who understand tech walk around muttering “I do not consent…I do not consent…I do not consent” under their breath all the time. You wonder if you should do likewise.
- Your advertisements are becoming less well-targeted. Some seem to be aimed at the opposite gender. Some are in different languages. A few display a world of red rocks beneath a lavender sky, whose inhabitants seem obsessed with procuring some sort of eight-dimensional spheres that confer immortality on their owners. You made the mistake of clicking on it, and now all your ads are eight-dimensional-sphere-related.
- Europe is surrounded by an impenetrable cloud. No information can pass in or out. When you read a book, sentences mentioning Europe become blurry and start to dance around until you finally give up. Even your thoughts about Europe are becoming more and more obscure. Yesterday you spent half an hour internally debating whether there was really a country called “Germany”, or if it was all a distant dream.
“Just handle the books gently and you’ll get along fine.”
“You can divide infinity an infinite number of times, and the resulting pieces will still be infinitely large,” Uresh said in his odd Lenatti accent. “But if you divide a non-infinite number an infinite number of times the resulting pieces are non-infinitely small. Since they are non-infinitely small, but there are an infinite number of them, if you add them back together, their sum is infinite. This implies any number is, in fact, infinite.”
“Wow,” Elodin said after a long pause. He leveled a serious finger at the Lenatti man. “Uresh. Your next assignment is to have sex. If you do not know how to do this, see me after class.”
“I’d heard he had started a fistfight in one of the seedier local taverns because someone had insisted on saying the word “utilize” instead of “use.”
“Auri took it, and peered inside the small leather sack. “Why this is lovely, Kvothe. What lives in the salt?” Trace minerals, I thought. Chromium, bassal, malium, iodine … everything your body needs but probably can’t get from apples and bread and whatever you manage to scrounge up when I can’t find you.
“The dreams of fish,” I said. “And sailor’s songs.”
“It’s the questions we can’t answer that teach us the most. They teach us how to think. If you give a man an answer, all he gains is a little fact. But give him a question and he’ll look for his own answers.”
“The second was some rather bad poetry, but it was short, and I forced my way through by gritting my teeth and occasionally closing one eye so as not to damage the entirety of my brain.”
“Fear tends to come from ignorance. Once I knew what the problem was, it was just a problem, nothing to fear.”
“I briefly entertained the notion that I was insane and didn’t know it. Then I considered the possibility that I had always been insane, acknowledged it as more likely than the former, then pushed both thoughts from my mind.”
Patton:
“When we are children we seldom think of the future. This innocence leaves us free to enjoy ourselves as few adults can. The day we fret about the future is the day we leave our childhood behind.”
“It had flaws, but what does that matter when it comes to matters of the heart? We love what we love. Reason does not enter into it. In many ways, unwise love is the truest love. Anyone can love a thing because. That’s as easy as putting a penny in your pocket. But to love something despite. To know the flaws and love them too. That is rare and pure and perfect.”
“It doesn’t eat meat.“ I said. “It’s a herbivore. It’s like a big cow.”
Denna looked at me and started to laugh. Not hysterical laughter, but the helpless laughter of someone who’s just heard something so funny they can’t help but bubble over with it. She put her hands over her mouth and shook with it, the only sound was a low huffing that escaped through her fingers.
There was another flash of blue fire from below. Denna froze midlaugh, then took her hands away from her mouth. She looked at me, her eyes wide, and spoke softly with a slight quaver in her voice, “Mooooo.”
“Do not mistake me for my mask. You see light dappling on the water and forget the deep, cold dark beneath.”
“This story is for all the slightly broken people out there. I am one of you. You are not alone. You are all beautiful to me.”
Roman:
His eyes brightened. “But there’s a better way. You show her she is beautiful. You make mirrors of your eyes, prayers of your hands against her body. It is hard, very hard, but when she truly believes you…” Bast gestured excitedly. “Suddenly the story she tells herself in her own head changes. She transforms. She isn’t seen as beautiful. She is beautiful, seen.”
“She looked at me. "What? Is there something wrong with my idea?”
“It’s not very heroic,” I said dismissively. “I was expecting something with a little more flair.”
“Well, I left my armor and warhorse at home,” she said. “You’re just upset because your big University brain couldn’t think of a way, and my plan is brilliant.”
“My parents danced together, her head on his chest. Both had their eyes closed. They seemed so perfectly content. If you can find someone like that, someone who you can hold and close your eyes to the world with, then you’re lucky. Even if it only lasts for a minute or a day. The image of them gently swaying to the music is how I picture love in my mind even after all these years.”
“I needed to let them know they couldn’t hurt me. I’ve learned that the best way to stay safe is to make your enemies think you can’t be hurt.”
“Then I played the song that hides in the center of me. That wordless music that moves through the secret places in my heart. I played it carefully, strumming it slow and low into the dark stillness of the night. I would like to say it is a happy song, that it is sweet and bright, but it is not.”
“The following day I abandoned my pointless searching and planted myself in one of the open air-cafés where I drank coffee and tried to find inspiration for the song I owed the Maer. Ten hours I spent there, and the only act of creation I accomplished was to magically transform nearly a gallon of coffee into marvelous, aromatic piss.”
“To be both rich and handsome was bad enough. But to have a voice like honey over warm bread on top of that was simply inexcusable.”
“Wilem snorted."That doesn’t sound suspicious at all,” he said. “And you wonder why people talk about you.”
“I don’t wonder why they talk,” I said “I wonder what they say.”
Virgil:
He looked down at me. "Congratulations,” he said. “That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen.” His expression was a mixture of awe and disbelief. “Ever.”
“I’d heard you were dead.”
"I heard you wear a red lace corset,” I said matter-of-factly. “But I don’t believe every bit of nonsense that gets rumored about.”
“Hespe’s mouth went firm. She didn’t scowl exactly, but it looked like she was getting all the pieces of a scowl together in one place, just in case she needed them in a hurry.”
“It’s a shame you left without a word, you know. She was just beginning to trust you before that. Before you got angry. Before you ran off. Just like every other man in her life. Lusting after her, full of sweet words, then just walking away. Leaving her alone. Good thing she’s used to it by now, isn’t it? Otherwise you might have hurt her. Otherwise you just might have broken that poor girl’s heart”
“That was another lesson I had learned perhaps too well: people meant pain.”
Deceit:
“Death was like an unpleasant neighbor. You didn’t talk about him for fear he might hear you and decide to pay a visit.”
“I swear I’ve never met a man who has your knack for lack of social
grace. If you weren’t naturally charming, someone would have stabbed you
by now.”
“The best lies about me are the ones I told.”
“I don’t mind being called a liar. I am. I am a marvelous liar. But I hate being called a liar when I´m telling the perfect truth.”
“All stories are true,” Skarpi said. “But this one really happened, if that’s what you mean.” He took another slow drink, then smiled again, his bright eyes dancing. “More or less. You have to be a bit of a liar to tell a story the right way. Too much truth confuses the facts. Too much honesty makes you sound insincere.”
Here is something for the Venn diagram of people who live the Kingkiller books and Thomas Sanders, I hope it lots of people.
Of course, the real way to tell whether you’re in a Hard SF novel is if people keep providing you with unsolicited explanations of basic physics and everyday technology which you should, by rights, already know.
So every single woman is in a Hard SF novel is what you’re telling me
…You know, it’s occurred to me that this would actually be a very good way to do exposition in hard SF novels without needing anyone to break character.
*curtsies* So, I really, REALLY don't want to offend anyone, Duke, but a question has been bothering me for a really long time and I was afraid to ask it because I didn't want to piss off anyone and since you're really eloquent and knowledgeable, I thought I'd ask you. So here it goes: you always say that arts and sciences are equally important, but how can analysing Chaucer or ecopoetics or anything similar compare to biomedicine or engineering in improving human lives? I'm genuinely curious!
When I lived in London, I shared a flat with a guy who was 26 years old, getting his PhD in theoretical physics. Let’s call him Ron. Ron could not for the life of him figure out why I was wasting my time with an MA in Shakespeare studies or why my chosen method of providing for myself was writing fiction. Furthermore, it was utterly beyond him why I should take offense to someone whose field literally has the word “theoretical” in the title ridiculing the practical inefficacy of art. My pointing out that he spent his free time listening to music, watching television, and sketching famous sculptures in his notebook somehow didn’t convince him that art is a necessary part of a healthy human existence.
Three other things that happened with Ron:
I came home late one night and he asked where I’d been. When I told him I’d been at a friend’s flat for a Hanukkah celebration, he said, “What’s Hanukkah?” I thought he was joking. He was not.
A few weeks later, I came downstairs holding a book. He asked what I was reading and when I said, “John Keats,” he (and the three other science grad students in the room) did not know who that was. This would be like me not knowing who Thomas Edison is.
One night we got into an argument about the issue of gay marriage, and at one point he actually said, “It doesn’t affect me so I don’t see why I should care about it.”
Now: If Ron had ever read Number the Stars, or heard Ode to a Nightingale, or been to a performance of The Laramie Project, do you think he ever would have asked any of these questions?
Obviously this is an extreme example. This guy was amazingly ignorant, but he was also the walking embodiment of the questions you’re asking. What does art matter compared with something like science, that saves people’s lives? Here’s the thing: There’s a flaw in the question, because art saves lives, too. Maybe not in the same “Eureka, we’ve cured cancer!” kind of way, but that doesn’t make it any less important. Sometimes the impact of art is relatively small, even invisible to the naked eye. For example: as a young teenager I was (no exaggeration) suicidally unhappy. Learning to write is what kept me (literally and figuratively) off the ledge. But I was one nameless teenager; in the greater scheme of things, who cares? Fair enough. Let’s talk big picture. Let’s talk about George Orwell. George Orwell wrote books, the two most famous of which are Animal Farm and 1984. You probably read at least one of those in high school. Why do these books matter? Because they’re cautionary tales about limiting the power of oppressive governments, and their influence is so pervasive that the term “Big Brother,” which refers to the omniscient government agency which watches its citizens’ every move in 1984, has become common parlance to refer to any abuse of power and invasion of privacy by a governmental body. Another interesting fact, and the reason I chose this example: sales of 1984 fucking skyrocketed in 2017, Donald Trump’s first year in office. Why? Well, people are terrified. People are re-reading that cautionary tale, looking for the warning signs.
Art, as Shakespeare taught us, “holds a mirror up to nature.” Art is a form of self-examination. Art forces us to confront our own mortality. (Consider Hamlet. Consider Dylan Thomas.) Art forces us to confront inequality. (Consider Oliver Twist. Consider Audre Lorde. Consider A Raisin in the Sun. Consider Greta Gerwig getting snubbed at the Golden Globes.) Art forces us to confront our own power structures. (Consider Fahrenheit 451. Consider “We Shall Overcome.” Consider All the President’s Men. Consider “Cat Person.”) Art reminds us of our own history, and keeps us from repeating the same tragic mistakes. (Consider The Things They Carried. Consider Schindler’s List. Consider Hamilton.) Art forces us to make sense of ourselves. (Consider Fun House. Consider Growing Up Absurd.) Art forces us to stop and ask not just whether we can do something but whether we should. (Consider Brave New World. Consider Cat’s Cradle.) You’re curious about ecopoetics? The whole point is to call attention to human impact on the environment. Some of our scientific advances are poisoning our planet, and the ecopoetics of people like the Beats and the popular musicians of the 20th century led to greater environmental awareness and the first Earth Day in 1970 . Art inspires change–political, social, environmental, you name it. Moreover, art encourages empathy. Without books and movies and music, we would all be stumbling around like Ron, completely ignorant of every other culture, every social, political, or historical experience except our own. Since we have such faith in science: science has proved that art makes us better people. Science has proved that people who read fiction not only improve their own mental health but become proportionally more empathetic. (Really. I wrote an article about this when I was working for a health and wellness magazine in 2012.) If you want a more specific example: science has proved that kids who read Harry Potter growing up are less bigoted. (Here’s an article from Scientific American, so you don’t have to take my word for it.) That is a big fucking deal. Increased empathy can make a life-or-death difference for marginalized people.
But the Defense of Arts and Humanities is about more than empirical data, precisely because you can’t quantify it, unlike a scientific experiment. Art is–in my opinion–literally what makes life worth living. What the fuck is the point of being healthier and living longer and doing all those wonderful things science enables us to do if we don’t have Michelangelo’s David or Rimbaud’s poetry or the Taj Mahal or Cirque de Soleil or fucking Jimi Hendrix playing “All Along the Watchtower” to remind us how fucking amazing it is to be alive and to be human despite all the terrible shit in this world? Art doesn’t just “improve human lives.” Art makes human life bearable.
I hope this answers your question.
To it I would like to add: Please remember that just because you don’t see the value in something doesn’t mean it is not valuable. Please remember that the importance of science does not negate or diminish the importance of the arts, despite what every Republican politician would like you to believe. And above all, please remember that artists are every bit as serious about what they do as astronomers and mathematicians and doctors, and what they do is every bit as vital to humanity, if in a different way. Belittling their work by questioning its importance, or relegating it to a category of lesser endeavors because it isn’t going to cure a disease, or even just making jokes about how poor they’re going to be when they graduate is insensitive, ignorant, humiliating, and, yes, offensive.And believe me: they’ve heard it before. They don’t need to hear it again. We know exactly how frivolous and childish and idealistic and unimportant everyone thinks we are. Working in the arts is a constant battle against the prevailing idea that what you do is useless. But it’s bad enough that the government is doing its best to sacrifice all arts and humanities on the altar of STEM–we don’t need to be reminded on a regular basis that ordinary people think our work is a waste of time and money, too.
Artists are exhausted. They’re sick and tired of being made to justify their work and prove the validity of what they do. Nobody else in the world is made to do that the way artists are. That’s why these questions upset them. That’s why it exasperates me. I have to answer some version of this question every goddamn day, and I am so, so tired. But I’ve taken the effort to answer it here, again, in the hopes that maybe a couple fewer people will ask it in the future. But even if you’re not convinced by everything I’ve just said, please try to find some of that empathy, and just keep it to yourself.
Anonymous Asks:
collegiatedom Said:
