This is the blog of a historian named Charlotte (she/it/they), known across the Internet as PhD, DSc, MD, PT Discworld. Officially a PhD! (also received a Professor of Thaumology from Unseen University, Ankh Morpork). She has interests in goth music, science, academia, Doctor Who, Discworld, and various other topics. Trans as fuck. GNU Terry Pratchett
My local mayor posted this and I’m mesmerised. Every time I look at it I spot a new problem. It’s like a rorschach test.
Not only did the AI fail to make a functioning UK map despite TONS of accurate maps available, but then a team of people actually thought “that looks about right, that’s probably the North, it’s got at least one Hull that’ll do” and posted it.
York ⁽Yᵒʳᵏ⁾
No you know, it’s easy to hate, but I want this team to tackle another section of rail next. Let’s give them their heads
One of the biggest pains with rail in the north is having to cross the pennines (it’s an issue by road too).
Relocating Manchester Piccadilly to the east of the pennines is clearly a solution to that problem, resulting in much faster connections between Manchester and eastern cities like York, Hull, York, and Hull.
You get it! It’ll take a lot of work, but if we simply align the existing infrastructure with this vision, I reckon we can really identify the roadblocks (Warringtons) to unlocking the potential (Warrington) of the North (Warrington).
Someone in Glasgow please go see this for me pls. I will be there in spirit 🙏
Brief report from the flute accompaniment:
It went well! At least 100 people attended, families dogs a solid portion of Glasgow’s trans community. There was a really lovely atmosphere, nice weather and a very cheerful celebratory vibe.
After short speeches from the ballhaver and the large dyke (my wife), the ballhaver was given a chupa chup and blindfolded (execution style). The balls were then duly kicked; it made a surprisingly loud dull thumping sound. She fell to the ground to loud cheers and there was a moment of silence while Taps played on the flute. The large dyke wore solovair urban hikers.
Account from the Large Dyke.
Arrived early to find the crowd already gathering, so the kick got off to a prompt start. Following some introductions from everybody and some cheery folk music from our flautist (my wife!) we got on with the kick.
I think we got good contact, the top of my boot making a good solid noise on impact. Very good atmosphere all round, people stayed to chat for a while. Were it not January it would have been an excellent opportunity for a picnic.
10/10 queer event, would happily kick anybody in the balls in the name of community.
Account from the ball haver
7am: the pressure is getting to me; I wake up and drink half a bottle of diet iron bru from my bedside table; roll out of bed, and psych myself up in the mirror - “you can do this my little pogchamp” I say to myself over and over until I decend into a stupor.
8am: I play an hour of Okami on steam to replenish my chi levels
9am: I look at my balls for a while
10am: I spend 20 or so minutes trying to decide what to wear before realising it’s the subartic in midwinter and I’m going to have to dress for -2C° regardless of what I choose and opt of my trusty black Schott thermal padded winter flight jacket and a pair of loose, warm Uniqlo trousers to give my testicles room to breathe.
11am: crashing out, texting my friends to arange a substitute kickee, an understudy, anybody so I can just become one with the crowd and not go through with it
12am: the homies have arrived, I’m drinking redbush tea in a small cafe by the park; god is in his heaven and all is right with the world
12.15: “you must be here to watch me get kicked in the balls?”
12.40: a circle emerges, from within the circle a palpable energy focuses like a lens down unto me and I feel like I’m gonna pee my pants a little
12.50: cheers begin, several complete families with dogs arrive - more friends appear and assort themselves into a gathering of ‘real heads’ ready to watch my groin be dessicated by the firm lace of a women for woman woman with a foot loosed through the gates of war as Augustus saw fit the dispatch and return of his troops from far corners through the blessings of Janus.
12.55: I think I left the stove on
1pm: Short introductions are made, grace is shown, music accompanies the gathering
1.03pm: what is left of my dignity disappears up my inguinal canal; I can feel it more in my lower chest than I can in my groin but the humour and adrenaline lift me and I’m laughing on my feet again soon. I kneel for the last post.
Alright, fine, here’s the backstory about replacing my Microsoft Copilot key with a picture of a carp. Warning: that’s the whole story.
When I bought my latest laptop, which coincidentally is already losing functionality in multiple keys, I noticed that the right Control button was no longer a right Control button. This was a bad sign for me, someone who fairly frequently used the right Control button. Worse still, it now bore the Microsoft Copilot logo and would open, when pressed, Microsoft Copilot. Not having personal interest in that particular robot, I was now in the market to rebind that key to something else.
I initially considered setting it up as my dedicated The Sims 2 button, but not only do I not yet have The Sims 2 installed on this computer, the way I play that game, it takes upwards of 15 minutes to boot up. I knew I would be constantly accidentally hitting this key, and I did not want to be constantly accidentally opening The Sims 2.
My partner immediately suggested that I set it to open “a jpeg of a fish.” I Googled “carp,” found an image, and set my right Control key to open a tiny browser window with a link to said fish. Though it is a .png file from pngtree labeled “pngtree-rohu-carp-fish-png-png-image_4022775.png”, in an effort to display matrimonial piety, I dutifully labeled it “fish jpeg.”
I now accidentally open this link multiple times a day, which is great, because it means I have a lot of opportunities to see a fish. Sometimes I accidentally hit it several times in quick succession, which means I get to see several fish! When I close all my open programs to shut down my computer, I usually find at least one forgotten fish. Things are working out beautifully, and everyone is happy.
The other day I brought up this story to a friend and relayed the saga of my success to her through her obvious confusion. At the end of my tale she asked me, “Why didn’t you just bind it back to right Control?” and I had to admit to her that it honestly never occurred to me.
