Sonia Connolly

sineala

sineala

I just set vim up for editing prose and uh

... y'all remember spell checking that uses an actual dictionary? That doesn't gaslight you about whether a word is in a dictionary or not, it just tells you?

For what it's worth, Configuring Vim as a Writing Tool by Theena is a decent hint at things that are useful for making vim writerly

I think this just speaks to the point about how there are relationship-focused people and task-focused people. In my classes I give everyone the following passionate speech: “The relationship focused folks need to work on being less sensitive. If you know you’re dealing with a task focused individual and they say something that feels kind of rude, let it go. They are probably not focused on the relationship right now. They are focused on what’s important to them and that’s the task. They can work with you regardless of whether they like you or not.

“On the other hand, you task-focused folks: you need to understand that when you’re dealing with relationship focused people that it is critical for them that they don’t feel the relationship is in jeopardy when dealing with you. They mistake your “get to the point” with a blow to the relationship, you need to be aware of that and find a softer way to say the same thing. ”

Feeding people half-truths or bullshit to make them feel better (which is almost always about making ourselves feel more comfortable) is unkind.

Not getting clear with a colleague about your expectations because it feels too hard, yet holding them accountable or blaming them for not delivering is unkind.

Talking about people rather than to them is unkind.

[W]e have strong drives to seek out five key things: status, certainty, autonomy, relatedness and fairness.

It is time to be in cockroach mode. To keep going, by whatever means possible. When someone tries to stamp you out, avoid them with a swiftness and a scurry that will haunt their dreams. [...] For some of us, survival may be easier. If you fall into that privileged group, consider using your energy to remind others that they are precious, and beautiful, and so, so loved. That if they left the earth, grief would drown those of us left scurrying across the wreckage without them.

To everyone who feels like their heart has been ripped out of their chest, I feel the same. To everyone who is afraid of what happens next, I share your fears. But what we do next is important, and I need you in this fight with me.

We are the united legal frontline in the fight for people and our democracy. We will fight for people, freedom, and our democracy against any odds. We know the playbook, and we’re ready to fight back.

The world can feel scary, but no matter what happens, I’m glad you are in it. And if it helps, I wrote a long essay about Mutual Aid and how we can show up for each other—especially the most vulnerable among us—right now and always.

We must deepen our relationships of trust and care across lines of difference, across coalitions, across communities. That's the foundation upon which everything else resides.

As diasporic rebels, our Jewishness teaches us to rely on solidarity beyond all borders. Our teachings compel us to lean on the community of others to live lives worth living, whether we are mourning or celebrating, or grappling time and again with what liberation should and could look like. [...] 2. Make people soup and do not stop inviting them over for soup! Be a reason for living.

“Oh, you want to know how you can support disability justice? MAKE SOMEONE A POT OF SOUP!” my friend William Maria Rain, a true disability justice OG, yelled at the audience at a disability justice panel at the D Center at the University of Washington, circa 2014 or so. Someone had probably been wringing their hands during the Q&A and timidly asking, “Um, what’s a good way to help the disabled community?” William made the answer very plain: You help disabled people by making sure we’re not dying of starvation in our apartments.

muccamukk

asakiyume

Listening means being alive, staying alive, and keeping the ecosystems to which one belongs alive as well. Listening is caring. Not listening brings war: that is, a type of destructive encounter, a form of non-co-existence. We listen with our entire bodies, not just our ears ... Our bodies are part of and an extension of the Earth. If we allow them to become sensing instruments for dreaming and conversation, the cosmic sense of life would not be so threatened. --Natalia Brizuela

armaina

starwatcher

"Over the years, college students have often come to my office distraught, unable to think of what they might be able to do to stop the terrible losses caused by an industrial growth economy run amok. So much dying, so much destruction. I tell them about Mount Saint Helens, the volcano that blasted a hole in the Earth in 1980, only a decade before they were born.

Those scientists were so wrong back in 1980, I tell my students. When they first climbed from the helicopters, holding handkerchiefs over their faces to filter ash from the Mount Saint Helens eruption, they did not think they would live long enough to see life restored to the blast zone. Every tree was stripped gray, every ridgeline buried in cinders, every stream clogged with toppled trees and ash. If anything would grow here again, they thought, its spore and seed would have to drift in from the edges of the devastation, long dry miles across a plain of cinders and ash. The scientists could imagine that– spiders on silk parachutes drifting over rubble and plain, a single samara spinning into the shade of a pumice stone. It was harder to imagine the time required for flourishing to return to the mountains – all the dusty centuries.

But here they are today: On the mountain, only thirty-five years later, these same scientists are on their knees, running their hands over beds of moss below lupine in lavish purple bloom. Tracks of mice and fox wander along a stream, and here, beside a ten-foot silver fir, a coyote’s twisted scat grows mushrooms. What the scientists know now, but didn’t understand then, is that when the mountain blasted ash and rock across the landscape, the devastation passed over some small places hidden in the lee of rocks and trees. Here, a bed of moss and deer fern under a rotting log. There under a boulder, a patch of pearly everlasting and the tunnel to a vole’s musty nest. Between stones in a buried stream, a slick of algae and clustered dragonfly larvae. Refugia, they call them: places of safety where life endures. From the refugia, mice and toads emerged blinking onto the blasted plain. Grasses spread, strawberries sent out runners. From a thousand, ten thousand, maybe countless small places of enduring life, forests and meadows returned to the mountain.

( Look for the refugias. Protect them. )

I’ve noticed an alarming UI trend over the last five years or so. Apps are neglecting, misusing, or outright omitting the scrollbar from their interfaces. Notice isn’t the right word. I’ve been living this trend.

I have a physical disability that, among other things, makes it difficult for me to scroll by using a typical scroll wheel or touch surface. That means I often scroll by clicking and dragging the scrollbar.