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Roses are red: satanpositive Roses are red, that much is true, but violets are purple, not fucking blue feels-for-the-fictional I have been waiting for this post all my life marzipanandminutiae They are indeed purple But one thing you've missed The concept of "purple Didn't always exist. Some cultures lack names For a color, you see Hence good old Homer And his "wine-dark sea. A usage so quaint, A phrasing so old, For verses of romance Is sheer fucking gold So roses are red. Violets once were called blue I'm hugely pedantic But what else is new? ineptshieldmaid My friend you're not wrong About Homer's wine-ey sea! Colours are a matter Of cultural contingency Words are in flux And meanings they drift But the word purple You've given short shrift. The concept of purple My friends, is old And refers to a pigment once precious as gold. By crushing up molluscs From the wine-dark sea You make a dye: Imperial decree Meant that in Rome to wear purpura was a privilege reserved For only the emperor! The word purple', for clothes so fancy Entered English By the ninth century Why then are voilets Not purple in song? The dye from this mollusc, known for so long Is almost magenta; More red than blue The concept of purple is old, and yet new The dye is red So this might be true Roses are purple And violets are blue squeeful While this song makes me merry, Tyrian purple dyes many a hue From magenta to berry And a true purple too But fun as it is to watch this poetic race The answer is staring you right in the face Roses are red and violets are blue Because nothing fucking rhymes with purple. Roses are red
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deadcatwithaflamethrower: hebic: kyraneko: balencia: kitrazzle: pissedoffweasley: wizardingheadcanon: kyraneko: elidyce: thatgirlonstage: fuckyeahdeathlyhallows: sirlestrange: #that is a human as a rat as a cup That was a long 12 years for Wormtail. Can you imagine how differently their lives would’ve gone if Ron, in trying to transfigure Scabbers, had actually transfigured him back into a human?Just take a moment to imagine McGonagall’s reaction if Peter Pettigrew had abruptly appeared in her classroom from Ronald Weasley’s rat.Take a moment. Or if Ron had fucked it up a little worse and couldn’t get ‘Scabbers’ back and McGonagall had take him to disenchant him and next thing we know there’s a naked Peter Pettigrew sitting on McGonagall’s desk and the kids in that class learn six new swear words, a hex they will never dare to use, and a fear of Minerva McGonagall’s wrath that will be with them until the day they die. Ten and twenty years later first years are being pulled aside and warned never mess around in Transfiguration seriously the last time a kid mucked something up in that class Professor McGonagall used two semi-legal hexes, took down a Death Eater and sabotaged the rise of the Dark Lord before Potter had time to get his wand out. What most of Hogwarts learned first on that otherwise-unexceptionable day was that Professor McGonagall could sure scream loud. Professor Flitwick’s Charms 5th-year Charms class was close enough to catch the full effect, and the door had been left open besides; en masse the students recoiled with shock and a miscast Hiccuping Charm broke one of the windows (out which the entire flock of ravens they were practicing on escaped to the Forbidden Forest where they only had to worry about centaurs, rather than annoying young humans with wands). Up in the Divination Tower, Sibyl Trelawny preened over her foresight to have warned her students of an unprecedented catastrophe likely to occur before the hour was out. Out in Greenhouse Five, a NEWT-level Herbology class looked up in puzzlement, and most of them were subsequently bitten by the Venomous Tentaculae they were attempting to propagate. It does not do to ignore a Venomous Tentacula when you’re prodding at its intimate parts with a cotton ball held in tweezers, so the class was cancelled while two-thirds of the students headed for the infirmary and the rest of them headed into the castle because if they stayed with the Venomous Tentaculae they’d be outnumbered, and nobody wants that. And down in the dungeons, Professor Snape turned away from comparing Lee Jordan’s Pepper-Up Potion to spoiled cream at what sounded like a woman screaming from the entrance hall. At the second scream, he ordered the class to remain where they were and behave, sweeping out of the room just in time to miss Theodore Nott suddenly jumping up and yelping as if someone had put a crocodile heart down the back of his robes. Fred Weasley stepped back from the unfortunate Slytherin, shared a smirk with his twin, and stuck his head out the door to make sure Snape had rounded the corner before leading the way out of the classroom. - Back in the Transfiguration classroom, about four minutes ago, it had started innocently enough. Ron Weasley, possessed of a broken wand and a lurking suspicion that most of the family’s magical talent had been soaked up by his siblings before he was around to get any, had attempted to turn his pet rat, Scabbers, into a teacup. Scabbers had not become a teacup. Scabbers, blast his useless furry little backside, had become a furry, vaguely teacup-shaped monstrosity out of which absolutely no one would have been tempted to drink, and to make matters worse, he still had a tail. It was moving. Harry was hiding a smile behind his hand. Dean and Seamus weren’t even trying to hide, elbowing each other and laughing. Parvati and Lavender were looking with disgust and horror at either Scabbers or him, and Hermione was opening her mouth, no doubt ready to tell him exactly what he’d done wrong. Which only made it worse that he really thought he’d done everything right this time. He snatched Scabbers off the desk (eww, the base of the cup had the same texture as rat feet) and turned away from Hermione. He made the wand movement again, picturing in his mind the way McGonagall had demonstrated it. “Erreverto.” “Erreverto. Erreverto. Erreverto.” It didn’t work. It didn’t work when Professor McGonagall stopped by and gave Hermione two points for Gryffindor for getting the spell perfect in both directions. It didn’t work when Harry made his successful transfiguration (Ron looked; the pattern was a little bit furry but it was definitely a teacup). Ron’s lips formed the shape of a word that would’ve made his mother box his ears had she heard it and attempted the reverse transfiguration, which didn’t work either. Finally, faced not only with the indignity of failure but the threat of Scabbers being stuck like that, he’d gone up to Professor McGonagall’s desk. “Um, Professor?” Professor McGonagall looked up from the paper she was grading and looked from him to the squirming teacup. “Problems, Mr. Weasley?” “Um, yeah, Professor. I can’t get it to work in either direction and it’s not fair to Scabbers to make him stay as a teacup just because I can’t do a spell right and can you maybe … ?” “I suppose so, Mr. Weasley,” she said, and waved her wand in the exact manner Ron had been doing all along. Nothing happened. Professor McGonagall looked very, very puzzled. “Now that’s odd,” she said softly. As one, the other students rose from their seats and quietly moved closer. She did not attempt the transfiguration in the other direction. Instead, she made a complex motion with her wand and murmured an incantation that possibly only Hermione recognized. The teacup squeaked. Professor McGonagall looked more puzzled than ever, and made a sweeping wand movement that ended with a sharp jab and uttered, “Arcanum finite!” And there was a loud bang, and there was a pale, pudgy, and very naked man sprawled out on her desk, and she jumped back hard enough to knock her chair into the wall and screamed. - Having taught a particularly rigorous course of magical study to children and teens for quite some time now, Minerva McGonagall had become accustomed to certain things. Students who didn’t listen. Students who did rude things to the mice when they thought she wasn’t looking. Students who accidentally turned a frog or a raven into a flock of starlings or a school of strange slimy South American fish (and tried to solve the immediate problem by filling the classroom with two feet of water, neglecting to consider the gap under the door). Students who tried to transfigure their noses into a more appealing shape and wound up in the hospital wing regrowing their nostrils. Naked men on her desk was something Minerva McGonagall had never had an occasion to get used to. What made it worse was that she recognized this one, and he’d been dead for more than a decade. Inferius! was her first thought, followed shortly thereafter by Animagus, which collided with Peter Pettigrew! and produced the utterly horrifying thought of what if all four of them were Animagi? which didn’t bear thinking about at all, so her brain jumped to if he wasn’t killed by a Dark Wizard then why didn’t he say so? and realized there was only one possible explanation why, and about that time her eyes registered that parts of Peter Pettigrew she really doesn’t want to know about were flopping about in front of her face, and she was screaming as she jumped back. The flow of invective which followed somehow failed to surprise her one bit. Some part of her registered, peripherally, the shocked faces of her students, but most of her attention was directed at Peter Pettigrew, who at very least faked his own death and at worst framed Sirius Black and if Black didn’t betray the Potters then who … did. And the words poured out of her, filthy English and filthier Latin while Pettigrew squirmed on the table, his face rage and guilt and fear and something shifty and contemptible, and he turned to look at the stunned students and lunged for Ron Weasley’s wand. - Severus Snape had reached the Entrance Hall by the time the scream died away and the invective replaced it. He almost smirked, amid the alarm; of all the things he’d never expected to hear from Minerva McGonagall … he took the stairs two at a time, still not noticing the students who followed. He did notice the Herbology class, which had stopped on the way to the Infirmary and were staring transfixed in the direction of the Transfiguration classroom, but pushed his way through them, getting Venomous Tentacula pollen all over his robes in the process. From the other end of the corridor came Professor Flitwick’s Charms class, with Professor Flitwick bringing up the rear and pushing his way between students. - Ron looked stunned as the man who’d been his pet rat snatched the wand from his hand; Professor McGonagal’s expression shifted to one beyond fury and when the entire class recoiled, it wasn’t from the naked man with the wand. “Laedo!“ Minerva McGonagall roared. - Ron Weasley’s wand cast a Splintering Curse many years beyond its rightful owner’s abilities, and it did Peter Pettigrew the poor favor of eliminating the door, which might have slowed him down a bit. - Severus Snape flailed and skidded to a halt as the Transfiguration classroom’s door shattered. He stepped back just in time, and stared, jaw dropped in shock, as a naked man he recognized from his school days flew past him and bellyflopped against the wall, bounced, and collapsed to the ground just in time to avoid the “Exitium!” which followed and vaporized an impresive chunk of the castle’s stone wall. Fred and George and Lee Jordan, determined to stay at the front of the crowd, had been pushed almost against Professor Snape by their fellow Potions classmates and some pollen-coated Hufflepuffs. Fred squirmed aside hastily as Professor McGonagall appeared in the doorway, the look on her face so utterly livid that Professors Snape and Flitwick both reflexively stepped back. Snape tripped over George’s foot and fell against a knot of Hufflepuffs, releasing another cloud of pollen and knocking them backwards. Pettigrew saw his opportunity and took it, scrambling to his feet, stumbling sideways, and launching himself towards the gap. And Minerva McGonagall made a thrust with her wand and said, “Perdo.” In the very loud silence which followed, Filius Flitwick squeaked, “The Splinching Charm, Minerva?” She might’ve looked embarrassed for a moment, and then she smiled as she looked down at Pettigrew, who lay on his belly, his arms and legs lying akimbo some distance away. “Unorthodox,” she said, “but useful in a pinch. If someone would inform the Headmaster, and send an owl to the Ministry—-not Fudge, not Crouch, someone competent—-Shacklebolt, perhaps. Students, return to your classrooms, please. Mr. Weasley, I’m very sorry, but I do believe it’s impossible to return you your rat. However, the zero I was going to have to give you for the day’s work is entirely undeserved, as you were not transfiguring a normal rat. You may make the lesson up any time this week.” - The story was, of course, much embellished by the time it reached all the students. Versions of it had the intruder peppering Snape with a Glitter Hex or transfiguring Ron’s rat into a pair of boxers, and people had to be disabused of the notion that it had been Voldemort who’d been hiding as a rat all this time. Snape gave both Weasley twins detention for tripping him, and took forty-seven points total from Gryffindor over the next few weeks for various pretend-subtle pollen references. Kingsley Shacklebolt showed up with a team of Aurors in time to meet Professor Dumbledore; the Wizengamot launched an investigation into the events surrounding the Potters’ murder; the results turned into a scandal which saw the release of Sirius Black and the forced resignation of both Director Bartemious Crouch and Minister Cornelius Fudge. Director of Magical Law Enforcement Amelia Bones was confirmed as Minister of Magic shortly thereafte, and the Daily Prophet reported that Sirius Black (“Godfather to the Boy-Who-Lived!” “Framed, Abandoned, Condemned to Living Hell!” “Heart-Wrenching: His Release In Pictures, Page 17!”) was considering applying for a teaching position at Hogwarts, “but just for a year, I’ve been cursed enough for one lifetime.” (“The Prophet reminds its readers that the so-called “curse” on a certain Hogwarts teaching position is almost certainly a mere string of coincidences.”) And, Minerva thought with relish some months later, it was almost three weeks before anyone attempted messing around in her class. A personal record. I’ve probably reblogged this before but I’m going to do it again right now I think this is literally the best au this entire fandom has produced I’ve only seen this legendary bit of writing in memes and screenshots. I feel so blessed to see it in person. Beautiful, simply beautiful! Reblogging my own post because a) it’s my damn horn and I’ll blow it if I want to, and b) I just (finally!) cross-posted this to Archive Of Our Own, so if anybody wants to go read it over there, here it is. @deadcatwithaflamethrower My only complaint is that Theodore Nott and Fred Weasely wouldn’t be in the same Potions class. *is pedantic* *reblogging because now you can bookmark it on AO3*: deadcatwithaflamethrower: hebic: kyraneko: balencia: kitrazzle: pissedoffweasley: wizardingheadcanon: kyraneko: elidyce: thatgirlonstage: fuckyeahdeathlyhallows: sirlestrange: #that is a human as a rat as a cup That was a long 12 years for Wormtail. Can you imagine how differently their lives would’ve gone if Ron, in trying to transfigure Scabbers, had actually transfigured him back into a human?Just take a moment to imagine McGonagall’s reaction if Peter Pettigrew had abruptly appeared in her classroom from Ronald Weasley’s rat.Take a moment. Or if Ron had fucked it up a little worse and couldn’t get ‘Scabbers’ back and McGonagall had take him to disenchant him and next thing we know there’s a naked Peter Pettigrew sitting on McGonagall’s desk and the kids in that class learn six new swear words, a hex they will never dare to use, and a fear of Minerva McGonagall’s wrath that will be with them until the day they die. Ten and twenty years later first years are being pulled aside and warned never mess around in Transfiguration seriously the last time a kid mucked something up in that class Professor McGonagall used two semi-legal hexes, took down a Death Eater and sabotaged the rise of the Dark Lord before Potter had time to get his wand out. What most of Hogwarts learned first on that otherwise-unexceptionable day was that Professor McGonagall could sure scream loud. Professor Flitwick’s Charms 5th-year Charms class was close enough to catch the full effect, and the door had been left open besides; en masse the students recoiled with shock and a miscast Hiccuping Charm broke one of the windows (out which the entire flock of ravens they were practicing on escaped to the Forbidden Forest where they only had to worry about centaurs, rather than annoying young humans with wands). Up in the Divination Tower, Sibyl Trelawny preened over her foresight to have warned her students of an unprecedented catastrophe likely to occur before the hour was out. Out in Greenhouse Five, a NEWT-level Herbology class looked up in puzzlement, and most of them were subsequently bitten by the Venomous Tentaculae they were attempting to propagate. It does not do to ignore a Venomous Tentacula when you’re prodding at its intimate parts with a cotton ball held in tweezers, so the class was cancelled while two-thirds of the students headed for the infirmary and the rest of them headed into the castle because if they stayed with the Venomous Tentaculae they’d be outnumbered, and nobody wants that. And down in the dungeons, Professor Snape turned away from comparing Lee Jordan’s Pepper-Up Potion to spoiled cream at what sounded like a woman screaming from the entrance hall. At the second scream, he ordered the class to remain where they were and behave, sweeping out of the room just in time to miss Theodore Nott suddenly jumping up and yelping as if someone had put a crocodile heart down the back of his robes. Fred Weasley stepped back from the unfortunate Slytherin, shared a smirk with his twin, and stuck his head out the door to make sure Snape had rounded the corner before leading the way out of the classroom. - Back in the Transfiguration classroom, about four minutes ago, it had started innocently enough. Ron Weasley, possessed of a broken wand and a lurking suspicion that most of the family’s magical talent had been soaked up by his siblings before he was around to get any, had attempted to turn his pet rat, Scabbers, into a teacup. Scabbers had not become a teacup. Scabbers, blast his useless furry little backside, had become a furry, vaguely teacup-shaped monstrosity out of which absolutely no one would have been tempted to drink, and to make matters worse, he still had a tail. It was moving. Harry was hiding a smile behind his hand. Dean and Seamus weren’t even trying to hide, elbowing each other and laughing. Parvati and Lavender were looking with disgust and horror at either Scabbers or him, and Hermione was opening her mouth, no doubt ready to tell him exactly what he’d done wrong. Which only made it worse that he really thought he’d done everything right this time. He snatched Scabbers off the desk (eww, the base of the cup had the same texture as rat feet) and turned away from Hermione. He made the wand movement again, picturing in his mind the way McGonagall had demonstrated it. “Erreverto.” “Erreverto. Erreverto. Erreverto.” It didn’t work. It didn’t work when Professor McGonagall stopped by and gave Hermione two points for Gryffindor for getting the spell perfect in both directions. It didn’t work when Harry made his successful transfiguration (Ron looked; the pattern was a little bit furry but it was definitely a teacup). Ron’s lips formed the shape of a word that would’ve made his mother box his ears had she heard it and attempted the reverse transfiguration, which didn’t work either. Finally, faced not only with the indignity of failure but the threat of Scabbers being stuck like that, he’d gone up to Professor McGonagall’s desk. “Um, Professor?” Professor McGonagall looked up from the paper she was grading and looked from him to the squirming teacup. “Problems, Mr. Weasley?” “Um, yeah, Professor. I can’t get it to work in either direction and it’s not fair to Scabbers to make him stay as a teacup just because I can’t do a spell right and can you maybe … ?” “I suppose so, Mr. Weasley,” she said, and waved her wand in the exact manner Ron had been doing all along. Nothing happened. Professor McGonagall looked very, very puzzled. “Now that’s odd,” she said softly. As one, the other students rose from their seats and quietly moved closer. She did not attempt the transfiguration in the other direction. Instead, she made a complex motion with her wand and murmured an incantation that possibly only Hermione recognized. The teacup squeaked. Professor McGonagall looked more puzzled than ever, and made a sweeping wand movement that ended with a sharp jab and uttered, “Arcanum finite!” And there was a loud bang, and there was a pale, pudgy, and very naked man sprawled out on her desk, and she jumped back hard enough to knock her chair into the wall and screamed. - Having taught a particularly rigorous course of magical study to children and teens for quite some time now, Minerva McGonagall had become accustomed to certain things. Students who didn’t listen. Students who did rude things to the mice when they thought she wasn’t looking. Students who accidentally turned a frog or a raven into a flock of starlings or a school of strange slimy South American fish (and tried to solve the immediate problem by filling the classroom with two feet of water, neglecting to consider the gap under the door). Students who tried to transfigure their noses into a more appealing shape and wound up in the hospital wing regrowing their nostrils. Naked men on her desk was something Minerva McGonagall had never had an occasion to get used to. What made it worse was that she recognized this one, and he’d been dead for more than a decade. Inferius! was her first thought, followed shortly thereafter by Animagus, which collided with Peter Pettigrew! and produced the utterly horrifying thought of what if all four of them were Animagi? which didn’t bear thinking about at all, so her brain jumped to if he wasn’t killed by a Dark Wizard then why didn’t he say so? and realized there was only one possible explanation why, and about that time her eyes registered that parts of Peter Pettigrew she really doesn’t want to know about were flopping about in front of her face, and she was screaming as she jumped back. The flow of invective which followed somehow failed to surprise her one bit. Some part of her registered, peripherally, the shocked faces of her students, but most of her attention was directed at Peter Pettigrew, who at very least faked his own death and at worst framed Sirius Black and if Black didn’t betray the Potters then who … did. And the words poured out of her, filthy English and filthier Latin while Pettigrew squirmed on the table, his face rage and guilt and fear and something shifty and contemptible, and he turned to look at the stunned students and lunged for Ron Weasley’s wand. - Severus Snape had reached the Entrance Hall by the time the scream died away and the invective replaced it. He almost smirked, amid the alarm; of all the things he’d never expected to hear from Minerva McGonagall … he took the stairs two at a time, still not noticing the students who followed. He did notice the Herbology class, which had stopped on the way to the Infirmary and were staring transfixed in the direction of the Transfiguration classroom, but pushed his way through them, getting Venomous Tentacula pollen all over his robes in the process. From the other end of the corridor came Professor Flitwick’s Charms class, with Professor Flitwick bringing up the rear and pushing his way between students. - Ron looked stunned as the man who’d been his pet rat snatched the wand from his hand; Professor McGonagal’s expression shifted to one beyond fury and when the entire class recoiled, it wasn’t from the naked man with the wand. “Laedo!“ Minerva McGonagall roared. - Ron Weasley’s wand cast a Splintering Curse many years beyond its rightful owner’s abilities, and it did Peter Pettigrew the poor favor of eliminating the door, which might have slowed him down a bit. - Severus Snape flailed and skidded to a halt as the Transfiguration classroom’s door shattered. He stepped back just in time, and stared, jaw dropped in shock, as a naked man he recognized from his school days flew past him and bellyflopped against the wall, bounced, and collapsed to the ground just in time to avoid the “Exitium!” which followed and vaporized an impresive chunk of the castle’s stone wall. Fred and George and Lee Jordan, determined to stay at the front of the crowd, had been pushed almost against Professor Snape by their fellow Potions classmates and some pollen-coated Hufflepuffs. Fred squirmed aside hastily as Professor McGonagall appeared in the doorway, the look on her face so utterly livid that Professors Snape and Flitwick both reflexively stepped back. Snape tripped over George’s foot and fell against a knot of Hufflepuffs, releasing another cloud of pollen and knocking them backwards. Pettigrew saw his opportunity and took it, scrambling to his feet, stumbling sideways, and launching himself towards the gap. And Minerva McGonagall made a thrust with her wand and said, “Perdo.” In the very loud silence which followed, Filius Flitwick squeaked, “The Splinching Charm, Minerva?” She might’ve looked embarrassed for a moment, and then she smiled as she looked down at Pettigrew, who lay on his belly, his arms and legs lying akimbo some distance away. “Unorthodox,” she said, “but useful in a pinch. If someone would inform the Headmaster, and send an owl to the Ministry—-not Fudge, not Crouch, someone competent—-Shacklebolt, perhaps. Students, return to your classrooms, please. Mr. Weasley, I’m very sorry, but I do believe it’s impossible to return you your rat. However, the zero I was going to have to give you for the day’s work is entirely undeserved, as you were not transfiguring a normal rat. You may make the lesson up any time this week.” - The story was, of course, much embellished by the time it reached all the students. Versions of it had the intruder peppering Snape with a Glitter Hex or transfiguring Ron’s rat into a pair of boxers, and people had to be disabused of the notion that it had been Voldemort who’d been hiding as a rat all this time. Snape gave both Weasley twins detention for tripping him, and took forty-seven points total from Gryffindor over the next few weeks for various pretend-subtle pollen references. Kingsley Shacklebolt showed up with a team of Aurors in time to meet Professor Dumbledore; the Wizengamot launched an investigation into the events surrounding the Potters’ murder; the results turned into a scandal which saw the release of Sirius Black and the forced resignation of both Director Bartemious Crouch and Minister Cornelius Fudge. Director of Magical Law Enforcement Amelia Bones was confirmed as Minister of Magic shortly thereafte, and the Daily Prophet reported that Sirius Black (“Godfather to the Boy-Who-Lived!” “Framed, Abandoned, Condemned to Living Hell!” “Heart-Wrenching: His Release In Pictures, Page 17!”) was considering applying for a teaching position at Hogwarts, “but just for a year, I’ve been cursed enough for one lifetime.” (“The Prophet reminds its readers that the so-called “curse” on a certain Hogwarts teaching position is almost certainly a mere string of coincidences.”) And, Minerva thought with relish some months later, it was almost three weeks before anyone attempted messing around in her class. A personal record. I’ve probably reblogged this before but I’m going to do it again right now I think this is literally the best au this entire fandom has produced I’ve only seen this legendary bit of writing in memes and screenshots. I feel so blessed to see it in person. Beautiful, simply beautiful! Reblogging my own post because a) it’s my damn horn and I’ll blow it if I want to, and b) I just (finally!) cross-posted this to Archive Of Our Own, so if anybody wants to go read it over there, here it is. @deadcatwithaflamethrower My only complaint is that Theodore Nott and Fred Weasely wouldn’t be in the same Potions class. *is pedantic* *reblogging because now you can bookmark it on AO3*
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Its long, but its good: Roses are red, that much is true, but violets are purple, not fucking blue feels-for-the-fictional I have been waiting for this post all my life. marzipanandminutiae They are indeed purple, But one thing you've missed: The concept of purple Didn't always exist. Some cultures lack names For a color, you see. Hence good old Homer And his "wine-dark sea. A usage so quaint, A phrasing so old, For verses of romance Is sheer fucking gold. So roses are red Violets once were called blue. I'm hugely pedantic But what else is new? ineptshieldmaid My friend you're not wrong About Homer's wine-ey sea! Colours are a matter Of cultural contingency Words are in flux And meanings they drift But the word purple You've given short shrift. The concept of purple, My friends, is old And refers to a pigment once precious as gold. By crushing up molluscs From the wine-dark sea You make a dye: Imperial decree Meant that in Rome, to wear purpura was a privilege reserved For only the emperor! The word purple for clothes so fancy, Entered English By the ninth century Why then are voilets Not purple in song? The dye from this mollusc, known for so long Is almost magenta; More red than blue The concept of purple is old, and yet new The dye is red, So this might be true: Roses are purple And violets are blue squeeful While this song makes me merry Tyrian purple dyes many a hue From magenta to berry And a true purple too But fun as it is to watch this poetic race The answer is staring you right in the face Roses are red and violets are blue Because nothing fucking rhymes with purple Its long, but its good
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Its obvious when you think about it.: ithendra writrs Follow satanpositive Roses are red, that much is true, but violets are purple, not fucking blue feels-for-the-fictional I have been waiting for this post all my life marzipanandminutiae They are indeed purple But one thing you've missed The concept of purple" Didn't always exist. Some cultures lack names For a color, you see Hence good old Homer And his "wine-dark sea." A usage so quaint, A phrasing so old For verses of romance Is sheer fucking gold. So roses are red Violets once were called blue I'm hugely pedantic But what else is new? ineptshieldmaid My friend you're not wrong About Homer's wine-ey sea! Colours are a matter Of cultural contingency Words are in flux And meanings they drift But the word purple You've given short shrift. The concept of purple My friends, is old And refers to a pigment once precious as gold By crushing up molluscs From the wine-dark sea You make a dye Imperial decree Meant that in Rome to wear purpura was a privilege reserved For only the emperor! The word 'purple', for clothes so fancy Entered English By the ninth century Why then are voilets Not purple in song? The dye from this mollusc known for so long Is almost magenta More red than blue The concept of purple is old, and yet new The dye is red So this might be true Roses are purple And violets are blue squeeful While this song makes me merry, Tyrian purple dyes many a hue From magenta to berry And a true purple too But fun as it is to watch this poetic race The answer is staring you right in the face: Roses are red and violets are blue Because nothing fucking rhymes with purple e naomispeaks IT GOT BETTER writrs When english majors really need to write a paper, but get distracted 96 691 notes Its obvious when you think about it.
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Its obvious when you think about it.: ithendra writrs Follow satanpositive Roses are red, that much is true, but violets are purple, not fucking blue feels-for-the-fictional I have been waiting for this post all my life marzipanandminutiae They are indeed purple But one thing you've missed The concept of purple" Didn't always exist. Some cultures lack names For a color, you see Hence good old Homer And his "wine-dark sea." A usage so quaint, A phrasing so old For verses of romance Is sheer fucking gold. So roses are red Violets once were called blue I'm hugely pedantic But what else is new? ineptshieldmaid My friend you're not wrong About Homer's wine-ey sea! Colours are a matter Of cultural contingency Words are in flux And meanings they drift But the word purple You've given short shrift. The concept of purple My friends, is old And refers to a pigment once precious as gold By crushing up molluscs From the wine-dark sea You make a dye Imperial decree Meant that in Rome to wear purpura was a privilege reserved For only the emperor! The word 'purple', for clothes so fancy Entered English By the ninth century Why then are voilets Not purple in song? The dye from this mollusc known for so long Is almost magenta More red than blue The concept of purple is old, and yet new The dye is red So this might be true Roses are purple And violets are blue squeeful While this song makes me merry, Tyrian purple dyes many a hue From magenta to berry And a true purple too But fun as it is to watch this poetic race The answer is staring you right in the face: Roses are red and violets are blue Because nothing fucking rhymes with purple e naomispeaks IT GOT BETTER writrs When english majors really need to write a paper, but get distracted 96 691 notes Its obvious when you think about it.
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<p><a href="http://friendly-neighborhood-patriarch.tumblr.com/post/164974800512/thespectacularspider-girl-poorpoorpitifulme" class="tumblr_blog">friendly-neighborhood-patriarch</a>:</p> <blockquote><p><a href="http://thespectacularspider-girl.tumblr.com/post/164974727869/poorpoorpitifulme-boyonetta-sunderlorn" class="tumblr_blog">thespectacularspider-girl</a>:</p> <blockquote><p><a href="http://poorpoorpitifulme.tumblr.com/post/164974366977/boyonetta-sunderlorn-finally-someone-said" class="tumblr_blog">poorpoorpitifulme</a>:</p><blockquote> <p><a href="http://boyonetta.tumblr.com/post/164960162684/sunderlorn-finally-someone-said-it-all" class="tumblr_blog">boyonetta</a>:</p> <blockquote> <p><a href="http://sunderlorn.tumblr.com/post/164487606354/finally-someone-said-it-all-of-it-all" class="tumblr_blog">sunderlorn</a>:</p> <blockquote> <p>FINALLY 👏 <a href="https://twitter.com/brandonlgtaylor">SOMEONE</a> 👏 SAID 👏 IT. 👏 ALL OF IT.  👏ALL AT ONCE. 👏</p> <p>(Thank you <a>@fallingawkwardly</a>​ for bringing this to my attention.)</p> </blockquote> <p>if u tell me u would read three hundred pages detailing the extensive process of domesticating the wheat that made the bread that the main character is eating ur either lying or ur really into wheat in a way i’m not entirely comfortable with</p> </blockquote> <p>Besides, in the real world, wheat was domesticated around 8000 years ago in the Middle East and spread to Europe (assuming the kinds of fantasy stories he’s complaining about are set in Fantasy Europe) long before the medieval era, so it’d be completely realistic for people to just act as if wheat were always domesticated and not think about it. </p> <p>Also, there really weren’t many entrepreneurs during the feudal era given that limited liability wasn’t a thing and getting stuck in debtor’s prison for a failed business venture was basically a death sentence. There would have been craftsmen and merchants and suchlike, but not really the culture of “small business owners” he seems to be envisioning. Equally, the middle class as a large-scale phenomenon wasn’t so much of a thing until the decline of feudalism in the late fifteenth, early sixteenth century.</p> <p>And all the nobility being established at the same time and all more or less recognising each other’s claims was basically exactly how the history of England went after the Norman Invasion. All the major noble families of the feudal era (and most still around today) could trace their lineage directly back to the first group of conquering nobles that came over with William I, and this difference in their origins from the common people would have been immediately obvious even after hundreds of years.</p> </blockquote> <p>Pedantic:  The Twitter Screed</p></blockquote> <p>Pedantry without true knowledge</p></blockquote> <p>I mean if you want to get pedantic and specific on a fantasy world you could always read the entire appendixes for LOTR.</p>: Brandorn Follow @brandonlgtaylor In a fantasy novel, how come everybody can afford high-grade wool? Also, how come everyone eats the same soups and drinks the same beer? 5:03 am - 21 Aug 2017 362 Retweets 1321 LikesO 50ti 362 1.3K Brandon @brandonlgtaylor Aug 21 Replying to @brandonlgtaylor How come in a fantasy novel, if the winters are so hard and cruel, you end up with all those pages of huge ass thick oak trees????? 2t25 276 Brandon @brandonlgtaylor Aug 21 IF THE WINTERS ARE SO HARD AND THE SOIL IS SO CRAGGY AND ARID, THEN HOW COME YOU GOT ALL THESE FORESTS?! IT DON'T MAKE SENSE 5 t28 325 Brandon @brandonlgtaylor Aug 21 How come nobody invents anything. How come all your carts look the same? WHY ARE THERE NO SMALL BUSINESS PEOPLE?! 05 t: 21 292 Brandon @brandonlgtaylor Aug 21 Your middle class. Where is it. Like, where is your merchant class, fam. Your realm has an economy, surely, where are they 07 t: 20 317 Brandon @brandonlgtaylor Aug 21 You're probably doing feudalism wrong 93 ti 17 256 Brandon @brandonlgtaylor Aug 21 Oh, yes, tell me about how all of the nobility have been in power for the same duration and they all recognize each other as legitimate tl 16 263 Brandon @brandonlgtaylor Aug 21 Your cadet branches. Where are they 4 196 Brandon @brandonlgtaylor Aug 21 Why do you think agnatic primogeniture is remotely interesting? GIVE US COGNATIC GAVELKIND 99tl 23 316 Brandon @brandonlgtaylor Aug 21 Why are you so afraid of science. Why. Why. How boring Brandon @brandonlgtaylor Aug 21 Oh, a literate woman who must hide her intelligence and scheme behind the scenes. How groundbreaking. Wow Brandon @brandonlgtaylor Aug 21 More gay sex. For everyone 91t24 369 Brandon @brandonlgtaylor Aug 21 Gender. Get rid of it. 2t3 332 Brandon @brandonlgtaylor Aug 21 Oh, a woman who disguises herself as a man in order to fight as a warrior. How feminist of you 93 ti 30 284 Brandon @brandonlgtaylor Aug 21 You want to be realistic when it comes to patriarchy, but your characters' teeth aren't rotting out and everyone wants to kiss them. Okay ti 74 468 Brandon @brandonlgtaylor Aug 21 You devised several schools of magecraft, but you expect me to believe that the kingdom's laws are applied uniformly throughout the realm Brandon @brandonlgtaylor Aug 21 You spent the entire book telling us about the succession of the king, but forgot all the succession laws in the individual fiefs. Oh. Okay 93 ti 13 188 Brandon @brandonlgtaylor Aug 21 Why is your king not worried about his dukes consolidating power via marriages and alliances? Idk. Seems important. 93 t5 260 Brandon @brandonlgtaylor Aug 21 Oh, your main character is a religious cynic so you don't have to worry about creating a system of faith for your world. How convenient. 5 tl 22 269 Brandon @brandonlgtaylor Aug 21 Who domesticated the wheat that you're using to make that bread? 4 t 217 Brandon @brandonlgtaylor Aug 21 Who invented the process of making all that ale your characters are drinking. And why are they drinking it year round? How???? Brandon @brandonlgtaylor Aug 21 Uhm, also, who is breeding all of these horses? And where did they come from originally? Like, how did they end up here? Brandon @brandonlgtaylor Aug 21 How did they agree on a systematized measure of time? Or of anything for that matter? Distance? Weight? Volume? Are there time zones? Brandon @brandonlgtaylor Aug 21 Epic fantasy reads like the notepad doodlings of the laziest history nerds on the planet. <p><a href="http://friendly-neighborhood-patriarch.tumblr.com/post/164974800512/thespectacularspider-girl-poorpoorpitifulme" class="tumblr_blog">friendly-neighborhood-patriarch</a>:</p> <blockquote><p><a href="http://thespectacularspider-girl.tumblr.com/post/164974727869/poorpoorpitifulme-boyonetta-sunderlorn" class="tumblr_blog">thespectacularspider-girl</a>:</p> <blockquote><p><a href="http://poorpoorpitifulme.tumblr.com/post/164974366977/boyonetta-sunderlorn-finally-someone-said" class="tumblr_blog">poorpoorpitifulme</a>:</p><blockquote> <p><a href="http://boyonetta.tumblr.com/post/164960162684/sunderlorn-finally-someone-said-it-all" class="tumblr_blog">boyonetta</a>:</p> <blockquote> <p><a href="http://sunderlorn.tumblr.com/post/164487606354/finally-someone-said-it-all-of-it-all" class="tumblr_blog">sunderlorn</a>:</p> <blockquote> <p>FINALLY 👏 <a href="https://twitter.com/brandonlgtaylor">SOMEONE</a> 👏 SAID 👏 IT. 👏 ALL OF IT.  👏ALL AT ONCE. 👏</p> <p>(Thank you <a>@fallingawkwardly</a>​ for bringing this to my attention.)</p> </blockquote> <p>if u tell me u would read three hundred pages detailing the extensive process of domesticating the wheat that made the bread that the main character is eating ur either lying or ur really into wheat in a way i’m not entirely comfortable with</p> </blockquote> <p>Besides, in the real world, wheat was domesticated around 8000 years ago in the Middle East and spread to Europe (assuming the kinds of fantasy stories he’s complaining about are set in Fantasy Europe) long before the medieval era, so it’d be completely realistic for people to just act as if wheat were always domesticated and not think about it. </p> <p>Also, there really weren’t many entrepreneurs during the feudal era given that limited liability wasn’t a thing and getting stuck in debtor’s prison for a failed business venture was basically a death sentence. There would have been craftsmen and merchants and suchlike, but not really the culture of “small business owners” he seems to be envisioning. Equally, the middle class as a large-scale phenomenon wasn’t so much of a thing until the decline of feudalism in the late fifteenth, early sixteenth century.</p> <p>And all the nobility being established at the same time and all more or less recognising each other’s claims was basically exactly how the history of England went after the Norman Invasion. All the major noble families of the feudal era (and most still around today) could trace their lineage directly back to the first group of conquering nobles that came over with William I, and this difference in their origins from the common people would have been immediately obvious even after hundreds of years.</p> </blockquote> <p>Pedantic:  The Twitter Screed</p></blockquote> <p>Pedantry without true knowledge</p></blockquote> <p>I mean if you want to get pedantic and specific on a fantasy world you could always read the entire appendixes for LOTR.</p>
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President Donald Trump implemented a MuslimBan that stopped Muslim refugees and immigrants from certain countries entering America. This went to the extent whereby people who have lived in America for years and were RETURNING back from a country on the ban list were refused reentry. The thought of even attempting to apply such ludicrous legislation is shocking to say the least. Why should someone's religious belief or place of birth prevent them from entering America? Hearing all of this truly sunk the hooks of injustice deep into my heart. It's such a scary world we live in, feels like unimaginable things are materialising in sight. I'm thankful to see so many well known figures express outrage publicly and so many citizens protesting in the streets and airports of America. People of all faiths and ethnicities came together united to stand against this injustice. You are all the heroes of our today. Shortly after, a US judge issued a temporary halt allowing those detained at the airports to enter the country. This however is not a permanent fix and does not solve the bigger issue at hand. I myself am going to America in April. Some people have asked me "are sure you're allowed in?". My initial propensity is to think of course I am! After all, I'm a British citizen why wouldn't I be? But then deep down, of course i'm not naive to not know that sadly, flying whilst being Muslim has its own reserved implications. Furthermore, after all this chaos, I can't help but feel even more fearful and confused about the potentiality of what could happen. There's so many airport stories about innocent Muslims being detained over pedantic things. Imagine they dig THIS very piece of writing and question me about it? Above all else, it's this type of injustice that fuels hate crime and divides our planet. I urge everyone to use their voices in whatever capacity they can to learn and speak out about the MuslimBan. This isn't about politics, it's about right and wrong. Just ask yourself, in regards to this whole era, what will be taught in the history lessons of our future children? It's all of our duty to create and put forward a moral and loving world for those after us.: President Donald Trump implemented a MuslimBan that stopped Muslim refugees and immigrants from certain countries entering America. This went to the extent whereby people who have lived in America for years and were RETURNING back from a country on the ban list were refused reentry. The thought of even attempting to apply such ludicrous legislation is shocking to say the least. Why should someone's religious belief or place of birth prevent them from entering America? Hearing all of this truly sunk the hooks of injustice deep into my heart. It's such a scary world we live in, feels like unimaginable things are materialising in sight. I'm thankful to see so many well known figures express outrage publicly and so many citizens protesting in the streets and airports of America. People of all faiths and ethnicities came together united to stand against this injustice. You are all the heroes of our today. Shortly after, a US judge issued a temporary halt allowing those detained at the airports to enter the country. This however is not a permanent fix and does not solve the bigger issue at hand. I myself am going to America in April. Some people have asked me "are sure you're allowed in?". My initial propensity is to think of course I am! After all, I'm a British citizen why wouldn't I be? But then deep down, of course i'm not naive to not know that sadly, flying whilst being Muslim has its own reserved implications. Furthermore, after all this chaos, I can't help but feel even more fearful and confused about the potentiality of what could happen. There's so many airport stories about innocent Muslims being detained over pedantic things. Imagine they dig THIS very piece of writing and question me about it? Above all else, it's this type of injustice that fuels hate crime and divides our planet. I urge everyone to use their voices in whatever capacity they can to learn and speak out about the MuslimBan. This isn't about politics, it's about right and wrong. Just ask yourself, in regards to this whole era, what will be taught in the history lessons of our future children? It's all of our duty to create and put forward a moral and loving world for those after us.

President Donald Trump implemented a MuslimBan that stopped Muslim refugees and immigrants from certain countries entering America. This...

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What the fuck did you just fucking say about my fan, you little bitch?omg-humor.tumblr.com: slimetony my ceiling fan has been clicking for months now and im starting to think the clicking is morse code intended to subconsciously reprogram me to be sad and tired all the time qui-bono Sounds like the ball bearing s are starting to go slimetony Yeah get a load of this guy over here. Dr. Knows Shit About Ceiling Fans. Let me tell you a bit about my background. I've had the ceiling fan since I was in the 5th fucking grade. I may have lost the remote for it years ago but believe me l know this baby inside out. I don't know what the fucking a ball bearing is I've never seen one and frankly it sounds like bullshit. Believe me when l tell you, I don't have any patience for people who come into my life pretending to know shit about what goes on in my life. Think for a fucking moment before you come to me with this pedantic nonsense about ball bearings. Have you ever been to my house? seen my ceiling fan? I sincerely doubt it because l haven't had friends over to my house since the Bush administration. Thats a very narrow window of time in which you could have seen my ceiling fan. And even then you probably hadn't completed your course at the fucking ceiling fan academy. I worked at Home Depot for almost two years and I can tell you l spent my time in the department with the ceiling fans. I actually spent most of my time in the garden and patio section, but believe me, we had fans out there, big industrial ones. They kept us cool and I never heard a single fucking thing about a ball bearing. Please get fucked 14,855 notes What the fuck did you just fucking say about my fan, you little bitch?omg-humor.tumblr.com
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