Fake Charity Nerd Girl

resist microstructural oppression

Posts tagged #unpublished drafts

worldoptimization

reading through unpublished drafts from my angry antifeminist youth and felt like publishing this one

I think my first exposure to feminism came in middle school. I was a math team kid, and one of the things that quickly becomes self-evident when you’re a math team kid is that girls just aren’t as good at math as boys.

I mean, maybe they are on average. But I was spending my time around the upper tail of the distribution, and there just weren’t as many girls. I never saw any sexism, any girls being discouraged. There weren’t girls in my school or in the schools we competed against who would have been great if they had just joined but they were too busy painting their nails instead. The missing girls just weren’t there.

This never confused me, there wasn’t any mystery about it. Girls were different from boys in lots of ways, why shouldn’t this be one of them? Different chromosomes, different hormones … the idea that this sort of difference might arise due to biology was totally unremarkable.

But if I ever mentioned this self-evident fact, I got one of two responses. One from adults, who tended to look sort of uncomfortable and change the subject quickly. And one from my (non-math-team-kid) peers, who would look shocked. “I can’t believe you would say something like that! That’s so sexist! It’s the current year!”

(No one ever argued with me, or tried to explain gender socialization, or pointed me to studies that would show that I was mistaken. It was always one of those two.)

It was then that I got the idea that there were true things that, if you talked about them, made you a bad person. It was terrifying.

Now of course, it’s ten years later and that knowledge is second nature. I’m better acquainted with the nuances of social justice shibboleths than most actual feminists I know. I’m used enough to tiptoeing around friends and acquaintances and people I meet at parties that I don’t have to think about it. But I still breathe a sigh of relief whenever I’m in a group of people and someone makes an offhandedly sexist remark. This, I think, this is somewhere I can be safe.

worldoptimization

to the tune of Jezebel (which is much better than this)

Next morning at work

My heart stops when you come say hello

But then you don’t laugh

At my joke about the BATS IPO

And with every word you’re piercing through

My flaws and insecurities

And hoping that the things

I’ve learned from all the Michael Lewis books I’ve read

Will convince you to take me back to your bed

And I know I might be wrong, but tonight

I wish I could be right

Don’t you ever get the feeling, oh you understand

You’re an absurdly wealthy finance bro who needs a hot girlfriend

The feeling you’d rather kiss a girl who’d say

That she checks Bloomberg every day

That she checks Bloomberg every day

And I read Matt Levine every day

And I read Matt Levine every day …

And when the lights go out you’ll say

How you wish you had a girl who says that she reads Matt Levine every day

worldoptimization

I.

To understand “beep-boopism” as I will describe it here you first must understand rationalist tumblr. To describe rationalist tumblr, otherwise known as the Tumblr Academic Freedom Club, would be far outside the scope of this account. If you are unfamiliar with it, I would encourage you to investigate the literature for yourself.

As people have pointed out, the practice of criticizing the overly analytical by comparing them to robots certainly has a long history, and in fact the term “beep boop” has likely been used many times before in this context. Here my aim is merely to give an account of the history of the term as it intersects with rationalist tumblr. The entire controversy certainly has relevance within a wider cultural context, but it is also worth noting that rationalist tumblr is quite idiosyncratic.

II.

As far as I know, the first time “beep boop” entered The Discourse was in a post by perversesheaf, a member of the hallowed tradition of rationalist-critical denizens of rationalist tumblr. (It is a much commented-upon phenomenon that the surest way to be accepted into rationalist tumblr’s ranks is to get a tumblr and begin criticizing it, a mark of the high value placed on contrarianism.) Unfortunately perversesheaf has since deactivated their blog, making it more difficult to investigate the origins of the beep-boopism debate. However, if I recall correctly it began with a post claiming that jealousy is weird by comparing it to bowling. It would be odd to be jealous that your partner had gone bowling with someone else, the logic went, and it is similarly odd to be jealous if your partner has sex with other people.

The discussion continued when thesublemon posted an essay by former tumblr user moteinthedark titled “Aesthetics are moral judgments.” This drew criticism from perversesheaf, who wrote “The author is very intelligent, writes well, yet fundamentally misconceives a basic aspect of the human experience. It sets off the exact same alarm bells the “How is sex different from bowling?” conversation did.” Tumblr user ogingat, an ally of perversesheaf, agreed with the criticism and added to it by criticizing moteinthedark’s use of mathematical metaphors.

This prompted a reaction from ozymandias271, who replied in an evenhanded tone defending the use of metaphor. However, their next post on the subject was less evenhanded: they wrote “beep boop rationalists are robots! It’s funny because a quarter of rationalists are autistic” and tagged it #vagueblogging. This post was criticized by tumblr users such as prophecyformula, who responded “beep boop highly autistic communities might have some systematic epistemological problems related to the high prevalence of autism.” Most notably, it began an argument with perversesheaf.

In this case, “beep boop” is used to mean something adjacent to “autistic.” Or maybe “people who have a hard time understanding things that normal people grasp intuitively.” The specialness of sex is certainly something that most people believe in intuitively, but many rationalists find odd. Aesthetic judgments are another example of this, as most people have an intuitive sense of aesthetics that is different from what is described in moteinthedark’s post.

(Not long after the argument began, ozymandias271 posted that their strongly negative reaction was due in part to their “~~tragic backstory”, in part to defensiveness of their friend moteinthedark, and in part to a depressive episode. For their part, perversesheaf and ogingat both deactivated the next day, finding tumblr an suboptimal place to conduct The Discourse.)

III.

Two months later, on September 24, “beep boop” made its return, in a response severnayazemlya wrote to an ask. An anon asked him for empirical evidence of his claims of the harms likely to result from immigration. He responded that the visible effects of immigration, particularly the societal decay it causes, are hard to quantify. He wrote in a clear criticism of tendencies in the rationalist community, “Number fetishism won’t get you very far here … There’s plenty of empirical evidence … but it’s not the sort of thing a beep boop can process, which means beep-boopism is epistemically harmful.”

The meaning of “beep boop” here seems slightly different than in the previous case. It refers less to a lack of understanding of neurotypical experiences and social norms, and more to an overreliance on statistics, the quantifiable, and the scientific establishment in forming opinions.

On September 26, nostalgebraist wrote “So excited for “beep-boopism” to become the next hot undefined-except-by-extension-and-connotation mystery term on my dash”. It received a smattering of likes and proved to be quite prescient, as nostalgebraist acknowledged two days later with his reblog, “the prophecy … has been fulfilled …”.

The discourse on beep-boopism took off around 9 am PST on September 28, when veronicastraszh made a post with the title “Beepy Boopy Veronica Style.” What she wrote seems to have little connection to the severnayazemlya post and is instead more reminiscent of the original argument between perversesheaf and ozymandias271. She describes beep-boopism as “hyper logic and hyper detachment … refusing to get caught up in the cult of social stigma.” Her main criticism of beep-boopism is that it is important not to dismiss social subtleties, as this can lead to things like people refusing to acknowledge sexism.

Tumblr user davidsevera, best known for his frequent jokes but increasingly considered a valuable contributor to the political Discourse as well, wrote another popular post on the issue three hours later, around 12 pm PST. His post focused on the issue brought up by severnayazemlya. He criticized opponents of beep-boopism as engaging in their own error, “Plausible Narrativism.”

Tumblr user queenshulamit, known romantic associate of nostalgebraist and fellow advocate for “nicencess” and “reasonableness,” wrote around 4 pm PST that “having a srs opinion on beepboopgate is compulsory now,” in an indication of how quickly and how far the controversy had spread. (The appelation #beepboopgate references previous controversies in the group known as rationalist tumblr or the Tumblr Academic Freedom Club. Most notable among these controversies are #prettygate, #speckgate, and the perhaps most notorious (and certainly most similar to #beepboopgate) #neotenygate. Unfortunately there is no space in this treatment to do them justice.) Her opinion was the the word “beepboop” was conflating several things, which was certainly correct: she named “basing opinions on numbers, being sutistic[sic]/autistic cousin, and disregard for social norms.” (One might call these the severnayazemlya, ozymandias271, and veronicastraszh definitions respectively.)

IV.

An interesting aspect of #beepboopgate as opposed to similar previous scandals is how much of the discourse occurred at the meta level. The original flare-up in July was entirely on the object-level, and the discussion on severnayazemlya’s September 24 post was object-level as well. However, people began discussing it as a controversy before it was a controversy (i.e. nostalgebraist) and as soon as the real controversy began, much of the discourse consisted of pattern-matching it to previous incidents and making jokes.

This is an unfortunately incomplete tumblr historical document here reproduced in its entirety.

It seems polite to tag those mentioned, sorry if I’m missing someone but people change usernames a lot:

@thesublemon @cptsdcarlosdevil @nostalgebraist @veronicastraszh @davidsevera @birdblogwhichisforbirds

worldoptimization

O Abigail, dear friend without compare,

You gave away your heart and soon you found

His courtship left you soaring through the air;

His kisses made your glist’ning world spin round.

When his undying love your swain professed

You trusted him, youth rendering you blind.

Too innocent, you gave all you possessed

To someone who abruptly changed his mind.

One of the many trials that youth brings

Is wanting nothing more than to be wanted.

Just know that you are meant for greater things

Than faithless men by whom your dreams are haunted.

In time your heart’s contusions shall be healed,

And through misfortune your true self revealed.


Your reputation ought to keep me far

Away, but there seems little I can do.

With all the world I’m ever on my guard,

But I cannot but let it down with you.

I wish you could forget your every care—

Drop everything, and meet me in the rain.

I’d run my fingers gently through your hair;

Your lips on mine would soon assuage my pain.

You’d keep your eyes on me; though it be wrong,

Still there are sins that feel less wrong than right.

You’d lead me up the stairs. I’d go along,

And whisper softly that we’ll make tonight

A memory for when you’re gone awhile,

For I see sparks fly every time you smile.


My mother warned me I had lost my senses;

In my blind optimism I said no.

My friends recited all of your offenses;

I scorned their call to run and would not go.

But now you’re gone I see it all so clearly—

At nineteen I was too young, don’t you agree?

In my stupidity I loved you dearly,

So I played your twisted games till I was free.

For every girl who’s given you her heart,

There is a pair of lifeless, burnt-out eyes,

But I stole your tinder ere the flames could start—

Like fireworks I’ll shine in empty skies,

Those skies that once were gray and now are blue.

To start afresh, I’ve written this for you.


[unfinished]

So let our love eternal be, or let

It die in flames, for only at its end

Can we weigh joy and pain, compute regret,

see if the high was worth the scars to tend.

I cannot tell how many men I’ve kissed,

But there’s still room to add you to the list.

worldoptimization

In case it wasn’t obvious, this is the first chapter of a never-finished genderbent OJ Simpson!AU Hamilton fanfic.

Alex Hamilton was standing in the kitchen of her cramped East Village apartment, looking at her reflection in the microwave, trying to comb her unruly hair, and snapping at her sons to stop bickering when the phone rang.

“I need your opinion on a homicide. On the Upper East Side.”

“What? No one gets killed on the Upper East Side.”

“One of the victims is the girlfriend of Levi Weeks.”

“Who?”

“Levi Weeks? You know. Plays for the Giants? Best running back in the NFL?”

“I have no idea who that is. Look, can you get to the point?” Alex continued to hold the phone in one hand while she grabbed Philip and William’s backpacks, handed them to the boys, and pushed them in the direction of the door.”

“Well, we’re at Levi’s apartment, and there’s a trail of blood leading in. There are also two matching bloody gloves, one at the crime scene and one outside his apartment. We want to get a search warrant, and we just wanted to get a prosecutor’s opinion.”

“That sounds like you have enough to arrest him. Go for it.”

***

Alex sat down in her lawyer’s office, her head spinning with all the facts about the Weeks case, coming in too fast for her to process. She so didn’t have time for this shit.

“Eli is challenging the terms of your divorce.”

“Goddammit. I can’t deal with this right now.”

“You filed for divorce on Thursday. You knew what you were getting into.”

“I didn’t know Levi Weeks was going to kill his girlfriend on Sunday!”

***

She and Eli had met at a party … what was it now? Eighteen years ago? She was in law school at Columbia, and he was interning at The New Yorker, having graduated college a few years before and spent the intervening time building houses in Tibet or Angola or wherever. He came from a rich New York family, and she was fascinated by his worldliness, charm, and the calm equanimity with which he seemed to view life. And he was intrigued by the small curly-haired girl from Washington Heights, who never stopped talking quickly and confidently and like she had something to prove. It wasn’t love at first sight, exactly, but she did feel something when she first caught his eye across the room, like she was drowning.

Well, it was all over now: they were getting divorced. After years of suggesting that maybe she could take their kids to the pool one day, or help Philip with his math homework, or at least just come home instead of working half the night and sleeping on the couch at her office, Eli put his foot down. He was right, she was a terrible mother. But how could she take time off when there was so much work to do? The district attorney’s office was perpetually understaffed, and there were always a million things she hadn’t done.

Well, the Weeks case would be a nice distraction from the whole divorce mess, that was for sure.

worldoptimization

I guess this was pretty topical in 2012?


This is the tale of Petraeus, whose exploits a nation encaptured.

High in position, he gave into hubris that made him lose all.

He was with his fair, sycophantic biographer deeply enraptured;

Carelessness led to discovery and a precipitous fall.


Under a CIA desk they conducted their ill-fated dalliance,

Borne amidst similar energy channeled in six-minute miles.

Her hagiography brimmed with adoring respect for his valiance,

While her computer contained an abundance of classified files.


Head of intelligence for our fair land, he should practice discretion.

Ominous as is his name, one might think he’d have read Sophocles.

Instead he made use of a Gmail dead drop to conceal his transgression,

Causing a peripeteia that brought the man down to his knees.


Secrecy might have been theirs had it not been for her hamartia:

Jealousy led her to write to a rival with friends in high places.

Her nemesis chose to retaliate, turning in unwise Medea,

Shirtless admirer soon making his total attention this case’s.

worldoptimization
worldoptimization

FYI: I’ve decided to put a bunch of stuff from my drafts folder into my queue.

Obviously, it’s all stuff I didn’t post, generally because I wasn’t really happy with it at the time. Now that it’s years old I’m even less likely to endorse it. So please don’t take it too seriously or consider it reflective of the general tone/content of my blog, if possible. I just thought it would be nice to get it out there.

worldoptimization

I was looking through my Google Docs the other day and found lots of Content that wanted to be out in the world so I’m doing this again! Expect less vitriolic anti-sj and more bad/unfinished parody songs.

worldoptimization

little things that annoy me: articles about how a group of people should be put in jail that don’t actually name any specific people or any specific crimes committed by any of them

like. you can’t actually send someone to jail just because they are an asshole and you don’t like them. not even if they contributed to the devastation of the global economy. 

worldoptimization

it being her experience that religious ecstasy made people callous

Miss Kilman would do anything for the Russians, starved herself for the Austrians

but in private inflicted positive torture, so insensitive was she

dressed in a green mackintosh coat

They called her shallow, vapid, self-absorbed. Said she did nothing with her life but throw parties, and what good did that do? But I couldn’t criticize her, and what kept running through my head when I tried was we’re all sinners.

Am I Miss Kilman then? But Miss Kilman does hate her, a truly religious person couldn’t hate her because a truly religious person couldn’t hate.

So; enlightened martyr or apologist for selfishness? She does nothing with her life but throw parties–but most people do nothing with their lives, don’t they? And a good party–most people have no appreciation for the look of a room. But a good party is something.

“Yes, yes, but your parties–what’s the sense of your parties?”

all she could say was (and nobody could be expected to understand)

they’re an offering

worldoptimization

I really like the word “speciesism.”

Well, first of all, because it has this obnoxious hippie/SJW/Animal Liberation Front vibe which is very much the opposite of my typical signaling strategy, so it’s a fun word to use if I want to mix it up a bit.

But mainly, because it only means one thing. No one will call you a speciesist for thinking that chickens aren’t as smart as humans, or for not wanting to date a mosquito, or for privately thinking that cats are kind of creepy. Beliefs about empirical facts are never called out as speciesist. No one says that of course we’re all speciesist, because we all have implicit bias, and all benefit from human privilege or something, and then the next day calls someone evil for saying something speciesist. No one gets into interminable arguments about whether speciesism involves structural oppression, or if you can be reverse speciesist or is that just being speciesist or is that not even a thing at all.

Speciesism just means thinking that someone’s suffering doesn’t matter, that their pain and pleasure have no moral significance, that if someone is hurting we shouldn’t try to help them, that they’re worth less, just because that someone is different from us.

Because like, fuck that shit.

worldoptimization

Thinking about Ozy’s recent post.

I definitely remember when I first read the Sequences, getting a sort of “world is mad” feeling. But looking back, I’m having a hard time remembering what that feeling was about.

Because … my world was never that mad? I don’t know anyone who buys lottery tickets or homeopathic remedies. Pretty much everyone I know is atheist. My childhood was full of people making jokes about the efficient market hypothesis and the sunk cost fallacy. From an early age my parents taught me things like the difference between correlation and causation, and how to interpret observational vs. randomized studies.

(I mean, I know my world isn’t normal. But since before I can remember I’ve always known I and the people I knew were smarter than most people. The question is where rationality comes in.)

Idk. There are only two things that consistently make me feel alienated from non-rationalists.

One is politics. When normal people are talking about politics I always have the urge to yell, “Can’t you see this discussion is entirely signaling and tribal rock-throwing?” This is the least useful modification because it doesn’t really make me better at anything, it just makes me more annoyed when people talk about politics. 3/10 would not recommend asking the aliens for.

(I’m not even sure how rationality-related this is. Like, I’ve always felt sort of alienated by a lot of political discussions. Maybe because they often rely on emotional appeals to fairness and I’ve always been a degenerate unifoundationist? Maybe because I missed Political Indoctrination Day during Blue Tribe Socialization?)

Another is EA stuff. But I don’t think the main disconnect here is rationality. I think it’s more that most people don’t really care about helping people? Like, I explain GiveWell and people are like, “Cool. I guess I’ll check them out if I ever have any money I really don’t know what to do with.” Or I will explain the case for animal rights to people, and they will nod along and go “Yes, I see that factory farming is basically animal torture and we as a society could end it with little cost to ourselves, but I just don’t really care about animals.”

(This is non-rationalists I’m talking about. Rationalists go “Yes, I see, but I just don’t think animals are sentient.”)

I mean, I’m sure I got some insight from reading the Sequences and discovering the rationality community. I wish I could remember what it was.

worldoptimization

This is maybe unreasonable but I’m sort of annoyed that my college’s career thing for women (which is mostly talks on negotiating and stuff) includes a panel on careers in social justice

like, where’s the representation for women who want careers in rent-seeking and exploiting the proletariat?

worldoptimization

I don’t remember when it happened, not really, at least I didn’t understand what was happening at the time. I remember chatter on the radio, whispers between adults, hearing the word “archdiocese” over and over. It was a while of hearing about Cardinal Law before I realized that he was a person, and not some special law that cardinals had to follow. 

I do remember years later, when our beloved pastor was forced to leave the parish. They said it was for “financial improprieties,” but we all knew the real reason–he had criticized the church’s handling of sexual abuse one too many times. And to add insult to injury, they replaced him with a priest who had been Cardinal Law’s right-hand man. I remember being an altar server on the morning the story broke in the Globe. The girl who was supposed to serve with me saw me in my robes and asked what I was doing. “Haven’t you heard what happened?” she asked.

All the other altar servers left after that. There was little motivation to serve a church that so clearly didn’t care about us. But I kept coming, week after week, because someone still had to carry the cross and lay the cloths on the altar. Eventually those who were really angry left the parish, or the church, and those who were left moved on, forgave. Then I was able to train a new generation of altar servers, from kids whose families were new to the area or kids too young to remember our old pastor.

Our new pastor left after less than a year. Everyone was happy to see him go. I knew his leaving was inevitable, but I was a bit sad. I didn’t understand the scope of the unspeakable horrors he was a party to. I just knew he was a nice man, if a little quiet and sad. At his goodbye party he thanked me for my service, and said he had always thought that I laid out the cloths very well.

He’s a bishop now.

worldoptimization

So I have this high school friend who got SJ when she went to college. I try not to talk to her about my experiences as a Woman in STEM/Woman in Finance because whatever I’m saying doesn’t really get listened to so much as coopted into a narrative of “math geeks are all just misogynist dudebros” or whatever.

And I just remembered this time in high school when I idly mentioned that I wanted to learn computer programming and she got this horrified look on her face and was like “but that’s what people like Johnny do!”

(Johnny was a weird guy in our grade who had no friends or social skills to speak of and liked Star Wars beyond what was socially acceptable.)

plus ça change, man

worldoptimization

Things I’ve heard rationalists say they have no idea how anyone could do:

  • support Trump
  • be anti-GMO
  • think that open borders are bad
  • think that jobs are good
  • not like cuddle puddles
  • not want to fuck their clone
  • cheat on someone
  • feel jealousy
  • consider sexual compatibility in a relationship important
  • think that life is worth living
worldoptimization

I.

In the Dear Future Husband music video, Meghan Trainor says she won’t cook for him or anything, and then she rejects him because he can’t do that strength thing at the fair! Isn’t she basically saying that she won’t conform to female gender expectations, but she expects to get a man who conforms to male gender expectations?

–my then-12-year-old sister

Based on a cursory examination of her song lyrics, I made a list of things Meghan Trainor is offering:

  • good at songwriting
  • sex
  • all the right junk in all the right places

things she won’t do:

  • bake pies
  • lose weight
  • waste all her time and money trying to look right

things she expects:

  • commitment
  • monogamy
  • dates
  • flowers every anniversary
  • dealing with her craziness
  • apologizing even when she was in the wrong
  • spending more time with her family than yours
  • giving her the left side of the bed
  • opening doors
  • not having a dirty mind
  • buying her a ring
  • treating her like a trophy

And yeah, flip the genders and this would all be received differently. But I don’t know, which reception is right?

II.

It’s a funny thing about the modern world. You hear girls in the toilets of clubs saying, “Yeah, he fucked off and left me. He didn’t love me. He just couldn’t deal with love. He was too fucked up to know how to love me.” Now, how did that happen? What was it about this unlovable century that convinced us we were, despite everything, eminently lovable as a people, as a species? What made us think that anyone who fails to love us is damaged, lacking, malfunctioning in some way? … We are so convinced of the goodness of ourselves, and the goodness of our love, we cannot bear to believe that there might be something more worthy of love than us, more worthy of worship. Greeting cards routinely tell us everybody deserves love. No. Everybody deserves clean water.

–Zadie Smith, White Teeth

I mean, I’m a consequentialist, I don’t really think desert is real. I guess the criteria for whether everyone “deserves” something, or has a “right” to it, are: is everyone having the thing a good goal? and to what extent is getting the thing under people’s control?

So clean water obviously fulfills these. I mean, I don’t think there are many people who could have access to clean water if they’d just get off the couch and stop being lazy but instead drink parasite-infested water out of a sense of entitlement.

Love, though? I don’t know. “Everyone has a romantic partner they’re happy with” would be a great situation but I don’t think it’s an important goal: there’s not much we as a society can do to make that happen, at least not much that’s unambiguously good. And your romantic success is, yeah, something that’s under your control to a large extent.

III.

I hope you don’t think you’re not worthy of love or anything because you totally are 

–unnamed friend

The more I think about this message the more I don’t understand it.

Is it some sort of empirical claim about my attractiveness? Is it a more moral claim–that I deserve love because of my moral worth? (Who would she say isn’t worthy of love?) Or is it not meant as a claim with a truth value but as a recommendation for what attitude I should take, along the lines of “love yourself?”

It’s not crazy to say “you deserve to make a million dollars a year” to someone even if they are not, in fact, making a million dollars a year. Maybe you think they are currently being underpaid due to their failure to negotiate and their employer would happily pay them more. But it’s also not something you would say to just anyone. If you spend enough time thinking about markets it is hard not to develop the prior that the market price is fair.

IV.

I don’t know if I’m worthy of love, or what the fuck that means. I think I’m worthy of existence. I think I’m worthy of clean water. Love gets more airtime in songs and novels, but have you tried clean water? Clean water’s pretty great.

worldoptimization

There is no success in Elena Ferrante’s world; one can become a bestselling author only to be overcome by writer’s block, an designer who ends us slaving away in a sausage factory. There is no friendship; your tender feelings for someone, your confidences in her, will disappear as soon as your circumstances change. There is no love; you can hope for a successful professor, or a rich man, or a man who doesn’t beat you or rape you, or a man who supports your family and raises your children with dedication and kindness, but probably not all of the above. And all of that, plus a man who makes your heart race? Forget it.There are no happy endings in Elena Ferrante’s world. Time passes, things change. There are never endings at all. Things happen one after another until you are murdered or die of consumption or disappear one day, entirely without a trace.There are books you read when you are happy to play at sadness, books that tug at your emotions and leave you cathartically crying. There are books you read when you are sad to play at happiness, books that deposit you in worlds not our own, where the colors are more vibrant and the friendships are deeper and the characters are characters in stories, not fragile carbon-based life forms who evolved sentience in what is now widely regarded by the forces of nature as a mistake.And then there are the books that don’t tug, that just tell. That are terrifying yet comforting; terrifying, because looking at the way things are is terrifying, and comforting because you’re not crazy, because someone else sees it too. Books that leave you neither crying nor laughing, but staring dazed at a train window too dark to see anything but your own reflection, reaching for Facebook or tumblr or anything that will let you go back to the way it was before realizing you can’t.

worldoptimization

FYI: I’ve decided to put a bunch of stuff from my drafts folder into my queue.

Obviously, it’s all stuff I didn’t post, generally because I wasn’t really happy with it at the time. Now that it’s years old I’m even less likely to endorse it. So please don’t take it too seriously or consider it reflective of the general tone/content of my blog, if possible. I just thought it would be nice to get it out there.