conuly: (Default)
[personal profile] conuly
and despite the fact that this is coming out to more than projected we didn't need to ask them to split it into two bills and I still have enough money for groceries!
oursin: Hedgehog saying boggled hedgehog is boggled (Boggled hedgehog)
[personal profile] oursin

Because when I read this, I had Further Questions.

London pub thief sold £2.2m Fabergé egg and watch set to buy drugs

I am going, hello?

Enzo Conticello, 29, took the Givenchy bag belonging to Rosie Dawson as she stood in the smoking area of the Dog and Duck pub in Soho, London, on 7 November 2024.
Inside the £1,600 bag was an emerald-encrusted Fabergé egg and watch set belonging to Dawson’s employers, the Craft Irish Whiskey Company.

So, she had these items in her HANDBAG (going full Flora Robson as Lady Bracknell) and
went to the Dog and Duck pub in Soho. She was outside the premises in the designated smoking area, she put her handbag on the ground in between her legs, and a few minutes later she noticed her handbag was no longer there.

We observe that this was a £1,600 Givenchy bag, and while I do not think London is quite the crime-ridden hellhole some social media depicts, I might hang on to this a bit more carefully in Soho even did it not contain my employer's Fabergé.
Dawson had the Fabergé items because she had taken them for display at a work event earlier that evening.

Surely there ought to have been some kind of security procedure involved, like, 'take a taxi and put them back in the safe'?

(Am trying to think of any circumstances in which, in former days, would have been taking precious unique archival and manuscript items out of the building in the first place. When we had them out on display for visiting groups, they got put away pronto.)

I probably read too much crime fiction, but this reads like 'set-up for heist/insurance scam that went pearshaped'.

New Worlds: Queen Bees

Apr. 10th, 2026 08:01 am
swan_tower: (Default)
[personal profile] swan_tower
So far we've been talking about friendship in a one-to-one sense, as a relationship between only two people at a time. But of course, we all exist in a much larger social world -- even during periods when that existence is best defined by a position firmly outside the circle. What does friendship look like when we open up our scope?

Well, for starters, "friendship" starts to be a word that maybe ought to have sarcasm quotes around it. We are social primates, and unfortunately, that entails some pretty nasty behavior alongside the nice stuff. As I said last week, depending on how you use the term, a friend might just be somebody you know and haven't outright declared an enemy or dead to you. Or, depending on how you use the term . . . your "friend" might indeed be somebody you are out to hurt.

If that sounds like a particular negative feminine stereotype, you're not wrong: in our society, teenaged girls in particular are proverbial for how horribly they may treat their so-called friends. This isn't inherent to being adolescent and female, though; it tends to show up anywhere you foster the kind of hothouse atmosphere where a bunch of people are trapped together and can only rise socially by climbing over each other.

And that means it can describe a royal court every bit as much as a high school! Reading about the interpersonal dynamics of Elizabeth I's nobles and ministers, I was struck by how much their behavior resembled the cliques and grudges of teenagers. The specifics differed -- A offended B, so B arranged to have one of A's political hangers-on denied the right of entry to the more exclusive precincts of the royal presence -- but the vibes were much the same.

Associating this specifically with women is therefore not entirely true, because men can behave in similar ways. It's also not entirely false, though, because control of social dynamics is a form of soft power, and in a patriarchal society where women are denied access to the formal levers of government, soft power is the only kind they can use. So now the question becomes: how do you acquire that power?

Some of it comes from obvious sources. If a person has some more formal type of authority -- or, in the case of a woman, is associated with a man who has such authority -- that tends to give their social presence more weight. After all, offending the prime minister or the wife of the Lord Treasurer might mean all kinds of political difficulties, whereas gaining their friendship could open new doors. This is true even at lower levels of society than a royal court; the wife of a town mayor or village headman probably has a certain amount of social cachet.

Similarly, wealth brings the ability to host more people more extravagantly, which is beneficial no matter what scale of party you're looking at. Though in many cases, the power of wealth has to be evaluated in light of status: where commerce is scorned, then a woman from a merchant family, be she never so rich, will be seen as more déclassé than a noblewoman of more modest means. The former can still win social authority, but she'll have to work harder for it.

What form that work takes depends on what's admired in the society at hand. As we've discussed before, fashion can play a role here: exhibiting good aesthetic taste will bring approval, and if you can combine that with just the right amount of daring innovation, you might become the trendsetter everyone else looks to for guidance. That's difficult to pull off if you're a social nobody -- your innovations are more likely to be sneered at as missteps -- but one admiring comment from the right person might begin your rise to social influence.

For those of more modest financial means, it may be easier to aim for becoming known as a good conversationalist. Remember, this is a social world, so being someone people enjoy talking to is a major asset! Flatter the right people just the right amount, so you don't sound too obsequious; tell rousing anecdotes about interesting situations; extemporize good poetry to commemorate the occasion at hand; exhibit whatever type of wit is most admired right now . . . which, yes, can include the back-biting type where you're constantly tearing other people down, though it doesn't have to. A lot depends on how vicious the local dynamic is.

Under the right circumstances -- and this will be of interest to many people who enjoy reading SF/F -- you can even win social influence through your book-learning and smarts. If you live in an environment of intellectual ferment and scientific exploration, then being au courant with the latest discoveries gives you fodder for attracting attention. You do still need to be a good conversationalist, so you can deliver what you know in an interesting fashion -- otherwise you'll have a reputation as a pedantic bore -- but it isn't always about jokes and empty gossip.

For women in Enlightenment-era Europe, in fact, social gatherings were a major part of how they kept up with the intellectual scene. The French salonnières of the early modern period famously established a model of social interaction that spread across the continent and into the British Isles. "Bluestocking," the Victorian pejorative for an excessively bookish woman, was originally the name of an eighteenth-century "salon" or social circle focused on literary discussion -- which, given the era, included philosophy, history, and scientific research, not just fiction. Their community included men, but it was led by women, and through the connections formed at their gatherings, they helped advance each others' minds, laying the groundwork for the advances of feminism in the nineteenth century.

It's not all so high-minded, of course. Like I said, these environments can also feature a ton of backstabbing and social climbing: witness all scenes set at Almack's Assembly Rooms in Regency romances, where a single introduction from the right person might set an individual on a path to an advantageous marriage . . . while others with competing interests do their best to spike any such alliance. The Lady Patronesses of Almack's, with their control over vouchers for admission, held a great deal of power over that scene.

In that case there was a group of women in control, but where a single queen bee rules over it all, she can be as capricious and arbitrary as any formal autocrat. She's likely to be a central gathering-point for gossip, and whispered into the right ears, those juicy tidbits might become a scandal that brings down a minister. Even without such weapons at hand, declaring someone persona non grata at her own events can mean they find themself excluded elsewhere as well . . . and without the chance to rub shoulders with influential people, their chances of advancement, whether through marriage or political appointment, go into a steep decline.

So is the social scene occasionally petty and vicious? Absolutely -- but that doesn't make it trivial. Stylish ladies or sociable gentlemen can leverage this world as an alternative route to power, all without ever lifting anything more dangerous than a fan or a pen.

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(originally posted at Swan Tower: https://is.gd/G7vEgj)

Real And Realer

Apr. 10th, 2026 08:07 am
poliphilo: (Default)
[personal profile] poliphilo
 Woke up yesterday feeling all golden, woke up this morning feeling all Thomas Hardy.

These things are just moods. Enjoy and put up with.

Smile indulgently.

I don't care too much for calling the world a "simulacrum". It's rather more immersive than a video game, don'tcha think? 

It's real, but not very real. 

Very real is the next level up- and beyond very real are levels that get realer and realer.....

Or so I think likely.....
conuly: (Default)
[personal profile] conuly
And we can barely pay it if we don't pay for a few other things. Maybe they'll let us write two checks.

On the other hand, if the USA decides drop nukes during the installation, probably the company won't trouble themselves too much about payment. We'll be home free! Well, assuming nobody retaliates on NYC specifically....

**********************


Read more... )
sovay: (Sydney Carton)
[personal profile] sovay
Entirely apart from it now apparently being business as usual for my killing joke of a government to start wars in whatever sovereign nations it feels like and threaten the annihilation of entire civilizations on capricious deadline, I have had a weird and fairly scrambled week in which I was not able to avoid talking to doctors after all. I can feel suitably noir-poisoned for recognizing some location shooting in The Rockford Files (1974–80) from Desert Fury (1947). The sky this afternoon suggested that it was trying to be autumn.



[personal profile] rushthatspeaks sent me an improbable mammal.

thoughts while reading

Apr. 9th, 2026 04:55 pm
calimac: (Default)
[personal profile] calimac
the April 6 New Yorker

1. Here's some info: The scientist who invented the term "alpha male," who was studying chimpanzees, used it to mean "not necessarily the strongest or most intimidating but, rather, the ones who excelled at coalition-building," keeping the peace and consoling. He was very annoyed at it being applied to humans who were, in his word, bullies.

2. Why are people finding it so difficult to grasp that one can support Israel while opposing the policies of its current government? That's my position regarding the United States as well.

Seconds to Spare, by Rachel Reiss

Apr. 9th, 2026 12:51 pm
rachelmanija: (Books: old)
[personal profile] rachelmanija


18-year-old Evelyn is on a plane, transporting her father's ashes, when there's an announcement of turbulence. A passenger gets up from her seat, then collapses in the aisle. The plane begins to nosedive, and everything goes white. Then Evelyn is back on the plane, which is no longer nosediving. There's an announcement of turbulence. A passenger gets up from her seat, then collapses in the aisle. The plane begins to nosedive...

Evelyn quickly realizes that she's in a 29-minute time loop. She tries to figure out why the plane is crashing and how to stop it, but gets absolutely nowhere. She talks to other passengers. She steals their food and eats it. She watches every movie on the plane. She learns everything about everyone, except the handsome sleeping teenage boy who never wakes up during the loop. She goes through 400 loops and almost loses her mind. And then, on one loop, the boy wakes up. And on the next loop, he also realizes that he's in a loop...

Like the last novel I read by Reiss (Out of Air, the one with the teenage scuba divers), this book has a great premise. I enjoyed how Evelyn makes herself free with everything on the plane while trapped, and I also enjoyed how she and Rion, the sleeping boy, work together once he wakes up to figure out what's going on. However, it had an issue that more-or-less ruined the book for me. Rion suggests something that somehow Evelyn failed to try in 400 loops, which is to follow one person on the plane at a time, and observe everything they do. It never occurred to Evelyn to watch the flight attendants, and watching one of them reveals exactly what's causing the crash. They try to prevent it in several ways that don't work. Then Rion figures out a clever plan that saves the plane and fixes the loop.

The author clearly wanted to have Evelyn be alone in the loop for a long time. I can see why she wanted that - we get a vivid sense of her frustration and despair - but it makes Evelyn seem useless when she spends ages watching movies and so forth, and then Rion figures everything out almost immediately. This is exacerbated when Rion also comes up with the plan to fix things. This wouldn't have been a problem if they'd been in the loop together much earlier - then they could have bonded while investigating, taken breaks and done the fun stuff that she did alone, and mutually figured stuff out. It would have been more fun to read and felt less sexist, which I'm sure was unintentional but is inevitable when the girl fails at everything for ages, then a boy shows up and both solves the mystery and fixes the problem.

I'll be interested to see if Reiss's third book also has a three word title that rhymes with "care."

Hedjog versus THE MACHINE

Apr. 9th, 2026 04:36 pm
oursin: Brush the wandering hedgehog dancing in his new coat (Brush the wandering hedgehog dancing)
[personal profile] oursin

So dr rdrz will be aware of my recent problems with printer, so I finally bit the bullet and after consulting Which Best Buys and so forth, went for an Epson Eco-Tank from John Lewis.

Which arrived at lunchtime today.

And I had anticipated spending hours if not days whining and stressing and beating my head on the ground and wrestling like until Jacob with the Angel to get the thing talking to my system and actually printing/scanning/copying.

Behold me sat sitting here having achieved getting it connected to the Wifi (the Wizard, though, is crap because it assumes that your password is a word rather than numeric, fortunately there was an alternative route), appearing under printers/scanners in my desktop computer settings, and copying, scanning, and printing.

There was a little hassle with printing which turned out to be due to Advanced Printer Settings turning out to have weird Paper Size as default rather than A4, which given that A4 is supposed to be their standard size, was bizarre.

This is positively uncanny, do admit.

sovay: (Sovay: David Owen)
[personal profile] sovay
We just had a blackout! For what looked like blocks around! It lasted exactly as long as it took [personal profile] spatch to light a candle in a yahrzeit glass and me to find a utility bill to call and report the outage. Briefly, stars were visible.

(Today was concerned primarily with taking Hestia to the vet, falling over afterward, and thinking unavoidably about geopolitics.)

Mary Not Anne

Apr. 9th, 2026 07:10 am
poliphilo: (Default)
[personal profile] poliphilo
 I'm recovering from a cold and my dreams last night were golden and rejoicing. In one of them Henry VIII, in costume as Hercules, was making love to Mary Boleyn in a net hung from the ceiling in one of the state rooms of Hampton Court Palace. 

Mary (you note) not Anne- the older sister who got to shag the king when he was still shaggable and- so far as I'm aware- managed to get herself out of his way without suffering death or disgrace.....
conuly: (Default)
[personal profile] conuly
And the water doesn't seem to want to turn off for the heater - it *is* lefty loosey, righty tighty, isn't it? - so I may have to get it for the whole house overnight.

vital question

Apr. 8th, 2026 04:45 pm
radiantfracture: Beadwork bunny head (Default)
[personal profile] radiantfracture
What is the name of the hockey team from ancient Uruk?

recent not quite reading

Apr. 8th, 2026 04:39 pm
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[personal profile] thistleingrey
Carobeth Laird, Encounter with an Angry God: Recollections of my life with John Peabody Harrington (1975)

Skimmed, partial---amidst the readings for one of my classes, I was reminded that an undergrad prof had mentioned Laird years ago. The prof said that Laird's book made Harrington sound both brilliant and "like ... not just a piece of work, but a pile of work."

I'd say that from Laird's text, it seems that Harrington was firmly neurodivergent, unable to connect with Laird, apt to project his mother ineffectually onto her (without understanding that he was doing so or that his repeated errors were painful for Laird), and lucky in benefiting as a white man from the work others did for him and around him. Yes, also quite bright, but the inability alongside it to balance schedule disruption and the undertaking of basic self-care, including regular meals, is awfully familiar from at least one person I've dated previously. He didn't "have to" learn it because others sort of handled it, until they didn't.

Laird downplays her own brilliance in the text, though it's clear that she knew herself. She managed to secure a divorce from Harrington in an era when her father could appear in court on her behalf.

The long-ago undergrad prof was a person with a teenaged child, at the time, and had recently divorced a husband who was a piece of work. Harrington's work was amazing, she said, though a lot of "Harrington's work" is only attributed to him---often by him, unfairly. She had been working on Harrington's work, including his letters, and--- The classroom full of students interested in Celtic studies blinked at her, she realized she'd hared off on a tangent, and we went back to how the late Romans wrote about, or misattributed stuff about, continental Celts. What Harrington worked principally on, and what the undergrad prof doubled in, was indigenous languages, mostly in California.

Jack of Hearts song by [personal profile] smokingboot

Apr. 8th, 2026 05:06 pm
asakiyume: (highwayman)
[personal profile] asakiyume
Last entry I mused on the mystique surrounding the Jack of Hearts. Is it just me? I asked. [personal profile] sartorias and [profile] pamaladean referred me to the Bob Dylan song "Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts," which absolutely is right on target with what I was feeling, and Wakanomori pointed out to me that the Jacks are also known as Knaves, which also goes to the mystique. But best of all was when [personal profile] smokingboot shared this song she'd written about each of the jacks. Truly marvelous! And she said I could feature it here, so, without further ado ...

The Jack-of-Hearts song, or maybe better called, the Jacks song, since it's about all of them, by [personal profile] smokingboot!

Jack o'Hearts oh, Jack o'Hearts oh,
Each maiden you charm
My hopes you have broken
And my heart you disarm
If you swear you love me
I'll count that no harm
Jack o'Hearts oh, Jack o' Hearts oh,
Each maiden you charm!

Jack o'Diamonds, Jack o'Diamonds
You bagman you thief
You promise such plenty
It beggars belief
Then you wink at a penny
And bring all to grief
Jack o' Diamonds, Jack o' Diamonds
You bagman you thief!

Jack o'Clubs oh Jack o'Clubs oh
Work hard and you'll gain,
The world gladly gives you
much gold and more fame
If you risk it on a ticket
For sure you'll know shame
Jack o' Clubs oh, Jack o' Clubs oh
Work hard and you'll gain!

Jack o' Spades oh, Jack o Spades oh,
You cutthroat you knave!
More blood on your hands
than a barber's worst shave,
and if you ain't at the funeral
You're right by the grave.
Jack o' Spades oh, Jack o spades oh
You cutthroat you knave!

Four Jacks oh Four Jacks oh
Most sly in the land,
Whatever's to come oh
It won't be as planned.
Box clever my darlin'
And keep close your hand,
Four Jack oh Four Jacks oh
Most sly in the land!
conuly: (Default)
[personal profile] conuly
"Huh. I wonder if that word is related to the word pelf" and, sure enough, it is! Probably!

Pelf sure is a stupid-sounding word, though.

*******************


Read more... )
oursin: Photograph of small impressionistic metal figurine seated reading a book (Reader)
[personal profile] oursin

What I read

Finished Never Had It So Good, and while I am less whelmed than I was on first reading it 50 years ago (aaarrgh), and consider that as panoramic social novel of provincial life, does not quite reach the level of South Riding, yet, that is the comparison one thinks of. I also mark up Mr Jones in contrast to The Angry Young Men who were his contemporaries over a whole range of issues.

Finished Considering The Female Man by Joanna Russ, or, As the Bear Swore, which was fascinating, and very readable, but has not somehow inspired me to rush off and do a re-read.

Then thought I should really read Adania Shibli, Minor Detail (2017), for forthcoming in-person book group.

In hopes of a change from that - it's grim - read Marion Keyes, The Mystery of Mercy Close (Walsh Family, #5) (2012), a recent Kobo deal, which was itself not entirely the most cheerful read.

On the go

Amazon helpfully alerted me to Kindle-only publication of Alexis Hall, Never After, currently in progress, also not really bringing the delicious froth - opium-addicted Victorian rent-boy rescued from homelessness on the streets by clergyman (unexpected and unwanted 3rd son in aristo family, put him into the church) with his own backstory baggage.

Up next

There's a new Literary Review.

Also I had a mad binge on Kobo the other day, mostly Dick Francises which had come down to promotional prices, but I also finally succumbed to the most recent Edward St Aubyn which has been tempting me. The previous one was so much less gruesome than the Melrose sequence that perhaps this will be the change of pace I'm looking for?

calimac: (Haydn)
[personal profile] calimac
I've heard a lot from the Catalyst Quartet at SF Performances in recent years. A while ago they did a whole series of concerts of the work of Black composers, for instance.

Tuesday's was kind of different. The main item on the program was the song cycle Sea Pictures by the canonical Englishman, Edward Elgar, with the original orchestral accompaniment arranged for piano quintet. Terrence Wilson at the keyboard joined the Quartet. The singer was Nikola Printz, whose dark mezzo unleashed a lot of power when Elgar called for it, but pompous grandeur and drama are not the highlights of this cycle. Elgar was at his best being coy and charming in the two best settings in the bunch, "In Haven" and "Where Corals Lie," where Printz's voice could be surprisingly intimate.

Now watch the chain of connections (not the order in which the pieces were played in the concert). A suite for quartet, Fantasiestücke by Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, something of a protégé of Elgar's. Coleridge-Taylor was Black, and when he visited the U.S. he met with Henry Burleigh, the Black pupil of Antonín Dvořák who introduced Dvořák to Afro-American spirituals, which inspired the Largo of Dvořák's New World Symphony. So we got Printz singing a setting of "Going Home," the spiritual that was later made out of the theme of that Largo, and (for quartet) the Sorrow Song and Jubilee by the contemporary Libby Larsen, a tribute to Burleigh and Dvořák incorporating fragments from another spiritual, "Swing Low Sweet Chariot." From her program notes, Larsen evidently thinks Dvořák incorporated "Going Home" into his symphony rather than the other way around.

It was a bit of a challenge in my current state going up to the City for a concert (and I have five more in the next week, so I'd better gird myself), but this one for all its oddity turned out to be worthwhile.

The Effects Of Ageing

Apr. 8th, 2026 12:06 pm
poliphilo: (Default)
[personal profile] poliphilo
 I envy the cat his ability to go to sleep any place any time. 

The older us humans get the more sleep eludes us- or so it seems.

Talking about about the effects of ageing, I seem to have lost my hips. My body now stretches, straight as a die from torso to thigh, with the consequence that my belt no longer serves to hold my trousers up. 

So I'm going to be trying braces......

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steepholm

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