Colophon: a statement at the end of a book containing the scribe or owner’s name, date of completion, or bitching about how hard it is to write a book in the dark ages
Oh, my hand
The parchment is very hairy
Thank God it will soon be dark
St. Patrick of Armagh, deliver me from writing
Now I’ve written the whole thing; for Christ’s sake give me a drink
Oh d fuckin abbot
Massive hangover
Whoever translated these Gospels did a very poor job
Cursed be the pesty cat that urinated over this book during the night
If someone else would like such a handsome book, come and look me up in Paris, across from the Notre Dame cathedral
I shall remember, O Christ, that I am writing of Thee, because I am wrecked today
Do not reproach me concerning the letters, the ink is bad and the parchment scanty and the day is dark
11 golden letters, 8 shilling each; 700 letters with double shafts, 7 shilling for each hundred; and 35 quires of text, each 16 leaves, at 3 shilling each. For such an amount I won’t write again
Here ends the second part of the title work of Brother Thomas Aquinas of the Dominican Order; very long, very verbose; and very tedious for the scribe; thank God, thank God, and again thank God
If anyone take away this book, let him die the death, let him be fried in a pan; let the falling sickness and fever seize him; let him be broken on the wheel, and hanged. Amen
no, i mean this social experiment started by a history teacher in calofornia in 1967
im Intrigued
it’s creepy not so much like paranormal but as in it’s a scary look at human nature. hang on a sec ill explain it
alright so. in 1967, a new history teacher at Cubberly High School in Northern California named Ron Jones was teaching his class about the Holocaust and Hitler’s rise to power. At some point during the lesson, many of his students began to ask why the rest of Germany had stood by and done nothing, and how afterwards they could have said they didn’t know. Many said that they would never allow something like that to happen, but most simply couldn’t understand how the population had allowed it back then. This made Ron curious: what was the answer? Why had so many Germans joined and tolerated the Nazis as their neighbors were dragged away? He realized there was no way of knowing, not without being there, and certainly no way of teaching it – unless, maybe, they could experience something similar.
The next day, Ron came in and began to command his class differently than usual. He had stricter rules, making students stand when asking or answering questions and having them fix their posture. He said it was a lesson on discipline and the phrase “strength through discipline” was written on the board.
The students, shockingly responded positively to the stricter rules; it was as if they had just been waiting for this and wanted more. They worked as a team and answered questions correctly, even sitting quietly until Ron dismissed them at the end of class.
In the next two days, the phrases “strength through community” and “action” appeared on the board. Ron announced to the class that their new rules and ideas were now the cornerstones of the group called the Wave. Their mottos were the three phrases on the board, and he introduced them to a salute (made by curling one’s right hand into the shape of a wave and tapping one’s left shoulder with it). The kids practiced both the motto and the salute that day.
Everything was going well in this experiment: Ron was increasingly seen as an incredibly important leader, the kids were being more well behaved, they were ahead in their studies, all good things, so Ron decided to continue the Wave. In class, he gave the students Wave membership cards, some of which had red x’s on the back. The x’s indicated that those people were to monitor the other members of the Wave and report directly to Ron if someone broke a rule.
Additionally that day, Ron gave the instruction to recruit members to the Wave; all were invited and all were equal in the Wave.
And recruit they did.
Later that week, there were over 200 members of the Wave. The pep rally became an official Wave rally where dozens of new members were sworn in. As the group grew, most everyone joined. However, if someone did not join, they were likely to find themselves very alone and possibly being threatened or hurt by Wave members.
By the 5th day, Ron knew things had spiraled out of control. He had grown into a mythical leader, and the students carried out his orders without hesitation, even if these orders never existed in the first place and were grown from within the Wave. He decided to tell the students that there would be a televised announcement of the Wave’s candidate announcement for the presidential election, and that all members should attend the rally later that day.
When they arrived, the hundreds of students were greeted with a blank screen and Ron. He told them the true nature of the Wave; how it had been born as an experiment that had grown exponentially until he had to end it. The students were shocked, and some even cried. They had all believed in the Wave wholeheartedly after just 5 short days.
The Wave is terrifying because it is real. Not so long ago, a history teacher fresh out from college was able to turn a school into a military state in just 5 days. We as humans are so easily led into fascist dictatorships and we so rarely question what goes on around us. The Wave is a testament to that, and a scary one.
There’s a really great German film of the same name (“Die Welle” – The Wave) based on this experiment – rather than stopping after 5 days however, the teacher lets it continue and things get much, MUCH worse. It’s a terrifying movie, but fascinating too.
things linguistics has taught me: do not fuck with the welsh
Seriously though do not. This is welsh nationalism in a nutshell.
So like, 150 or so years ago, nobody cared about Welsh. Not even the welsh. But then, one day, some folks got sick of paying the tolls at toll gates. Citing bizarre biblical precedent, they dressed up as women and started seizing toll gates, at which point the (also welsh) gate owners went “WTF?” and called in (english) magistrates to resolve the dispute.
The English Magistrates looked at the situation and went “WTF?” and commissioned an inquiry loosely titled “WTF is wrong with Wales??”
Well this commission did a ton of work and looked at schools and politics and people on hillsides raising sheep and all that jazz and came to the thrilling conclusion: What’s Wrong with Wales is that Ridiculous Backwards Language they all speak there.
There was a moment of dead silence, broken only by the loud scrape as Wales, collectively, as a nation, in a fit of unity not seen since the castles came to subjugate the native tribes, pushed back its chair, stood up slowly, and said “what you just say bout me?”
And folks who’d never heard it spoken started teaching their children Welsh, and the old sheep herder on the hill became a cultural icon, and the rioters and the gate owners high fived each other and said “suck it, England!” (only in Welsh this time).
And now Welsh is a protected language, there’s a strong Welsh nationalist movement, with its own flag and spelling conventions, and there’s a Welsh channel on television (which is doubly impressive when you remember that Britain only has like three channels).
And that is how the Welsh saved their language from extinction by sheer force of spite
Just gotta add those toll booth riots were called the Rebecca Riots, the rioters were known as Rebeccas and I am named after them. It’s the one consolation to an otherwise boring name.
Also my great grandad lived to the age of 101 and never spoke a word of English that wasn’t forced out of him through threat of unemployment. Despite being fluent and having 5 great grandchildren who have the Welsh vocabulary of toddlers.
let me tell you some of the ways the English tried to kill our language
The caffeine in coffee “beans” is a natural plant defense against herbivory, i.e., a toxic substance that protects the seeds of the plant. Fruits and leaves are both sources of caffeine as well and a tea can be made of the leaves, but neither are used commercially.
Presumably, if adult humans are weird, then human kids must be weird as well. But of course, since aliens probably wouldn’t interact with human children too much, there might not be much about them in the human guide.
Imagine a human leaving her kid with an alien friend because her SO is sick and none of her human crewmates are able to act as babysitter and she’s got an important meeting. So she goes to the meeting and the alien takes her kid to one of the rooms in the ship that acts as a sort of play area.
Then, when the human comes out of the meeting, she picks her phone up and sees that she has some missed calls…
1st call: “Hey, Katie, it’s me, Grit. I know you’re probably in the meeting by now and can’t answer your phone, but I was just wondering… Jackie’s been chasing the other kids a lot, is she hunting them? Is that part of the whole predatory instincts thing? They all seem to be having fun— at least I think so, they’re all making that weird noise you guys make— but I just thought I’d let you know. And, um, listen… she’s not going to try and eat the ones she catches, is she?”
2nd call: “Hi, Katie, Grit again— look, I know that you guys are descended from tree climbing mammals and so your offspring need climbing equipment to satisfy those instincts— but there’s no way she’s supposed to be that high, right? None of the other parents are doing anything and I can’t go up and get her down because my hooves can’t get a grip on the frame. She’s right on top and— NO!<incomprehensible noises that sound like a cross between the moo of a cow and the bray of a donkey>— okay, so she’s swinging from the bars. One of the other humans just explained that that’s normal. He’s offered me some coffee, but I said no because I’m pretty sure that stuff’s toxic. I’ll try not to call again unless there is an emergency.”
3rd call: “I’m so sorry, Jackie’s been injured. She tripped over and seems to have lost a layer of skin from her knee. She’s making these noises and there’s liquid coming from her eye sockets and I don’t know what to do! Please pick up! There’s blood and the coffee offering human keeps saying she should suck the blood out or something. Is that a thing? Does your species’ saliva have healing properties? Shoud I call a medic?! Please pick up!”
4th call: “Sorry for that last message. Jackie seems to be doing fine now. I don’t know how— she should be laid out for weeks after an injury like that! Please, for my sanity, can you get a human babysitter next time?”
What I love most about this is that this person was SO INCENSED at the recipient that they couldn’t even wait the days/weeks it would take for the mail to go through. No, they had to say “FUCK YOU” as soon as fucking possible and, AND, let the recipient that they were not done with the fuck you, nay, this was merely the first volley in what would undoubtably be a dressing down of Biblical proportions.
All people with blue eyes can be traced
back to one person who lived near the
Black Sea less than 10,000 years ago. SourceSource 2
Now when I see a person with blue eyes, I’ll know they’re a descendant of Ocean-Eyed Slut Man.
You leave great grandpa ocean-eyed slut man alone, he was just living his life
Actually, since this was determined using mitochondrial DNA, the ocean-eyed slut would be a woman, not a man. Mitochondrial DNA is passed down by mothers.
Gram-gram knew how to party
dear ocean eyed party gram-gram thank u for spreading your weird eye mutation and giving every fanfic writer a reason to know an unholy amount of synonyms for the word ‘blue’.
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