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Lex Malla Lex Nulla

@sankta-wraith

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So you're telling me that in Wake Up Dead Man, this Catholic Church:

  1. has a notable lack of Mary imagery;
  2. forsook and mocked a young woman named Grace because she had a child out of wedlock when she was young;
  3. literally removed the cross from their sanctuary as part of the campaign of denigrating Grace;
  4. preaches a harsh and cruel interpretation of scripture and entirely neglects mercy (i.e..... grace);
  5. initially rejects the young priest who came to them preaching mercy, forgiveness, love, serving the sinner, etc.; and
  6. ends up embracing the approach of the young priest, who is also an amateur carpenter who literally builds them a replacement cross
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"Victoria is a big girl. She can make her own decisions." I love how he's just so protective of everyone in the ED. Dr. Robby you are the father.

what about blorbhov from my complicated russian novel though

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tanukisoda

blorbeaux from my nilihist french plays

blorbón from my weird latin american magical realist novels

blorbug from my kafkaesque short stories

von blorbow from my german sturm und drang novel

Don Blorbo from my opera

błórbżo from my polish poetry

blorbocles from my ancient greek epics

Mr. Blorby from my Jane Austen novels

Blorbio from my early modern plays

Assembling some more from the notes:

useless rosetta stone

Waiting for Blorbot

Yea, this is hard, because they don’t do B. So either P as in the Polynesian example, or MB. Not that I know Quenya. I don’t. But I think I know which letters can go where? (+ I have a reference. Checking it…) OK no, technically it can have a b. Huh. Just not initial. How do you write the B??? OK, same as “mb”. So no, no real B…

Let’s try the P-version: plorpo would not work because the “pl” consonant cluster can’t begin a word, we need a vowel. I think “a” is the most natural vowel to use, in general. Palorpo. No idea what it could mean.

(MB doesn’t work, really. It can’t start a word, and we can’t have “rmb” either. )

So, Palorpo it is.

Palorpo the Tall from my Quenta Silmarillion, with his dark hair, grey eyes, shining sword, terrible doom, and an unnamed wife he does not listen to.

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Maria Skłodowska-Curie's notebooks are crazy once you think about it. They're so radioactive they have to be sealed in a lead box. Imagine a world where atomic theory is forgotten and a dude just goes "yea there's a book that details the secrets of the universe, the machinations of the creation of existence down to its barest essentials, but if you get close to it you fucking die. The more you read it the more your body slowly disassembles into mush." like wat excuse me

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The funniest thing about Castiel is that he immediately spots that Dean is carrying the Mark of Cain but it takes him weeks to realize Sam's missing his soul

I’m getting back into Andy Serkis’s audiobook of Lord of the Ring and the fellowship just reached Lothlorien.

Celeborn sees Aragorn and says, “Eight and thirty years have passed in the outside world since last you were here, and the years lie heavily upon you.”

Imagine losing Gandalf, getting out of Moria, escaping the orcs, and finding safety just for your fiancé’s family to be like, “You’re aging TERRIBLY.”

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