The Big Idea: Mallory Kass

2026-Apr-17, Friday 15:49
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Posted by Athena Scalzi

The words “stress-free” and “wedding” aren’t seen in a sentence together unless the word “not” preludes them. The copious amount of stress and issues surrounding weddings fascinated author Mallory Kass, and she began to ask the question of why people do this to themselves. In her exploration of such answers, she wrote her newest rom-com novel, Save the Date. RSVP your invite to her Big Idea, and bring a plus one.

MALLORY KASS:

Why do weddings cause temporary insanity in otherwise rational people? Take a look around you. See that woman reading Middlemarch on the subway, the one who just smilingly offered her seat to an elderly man? In ten minutes, she’s going to text her sister, “Maddie’s dress is giving whore-of-honor instead of maid-of-honor.” Then there’s your affable co-worker, Brad, famous for his pivot tables. Over the weekend, he told his daughter that if he can’t invite all nineteen members of his pickleball league, he’s not paying for her wedding. 

What turns these celebrations of love into referendums on our taste, friendships, finances, and even our bodies? That’s one of the questions I wanted to explore in Save The Date, a romantic comedy-of-manners about a lavish wedding in Maine that goes very, very wrong. Because it’s not just the bride and groom whose emotions go haywire in the lead up to marital bliss. Guests participate in their own small but significant melodramas: they navigate the fraught politics of the plus-one, take desperate measures to squeeze into a special outfit, and scour social media to see if one’s ex might show up with a date. 

I’ve had plenty of opportunities to ponder these questions. I attended more than twenty weddings solo before I met my husband. There were times when I was literally the only single guest. Once, my friend’s very kind, very drunk mother shouted to a large crowd, “Who’s going to walk Mallory back to the hotel? She’s ALL ALONE!” 

I generally enjoyed myself at these events, especially while dancing with friends, shouting the lyrics to cheesy pop hits from our childhood. But at some point, the band would inevitably transition to a slow song and everyone would drift towards their dates like magnets, leaving me to scurry off the dance floor. That’s when I’d refill my drink and take refuge in a shadowy corner where I could observe the spectacle unnoticed. I’d clock the bride’s single sister’s slightly-too wide-smile and slightly-too-short dress. I’d eavesdrop on conversations criticizing the décor, the food, and the bridesmaids’ botched Botox. I’d note the panic on men’s faces as their girlfriends pronounced what they’d do differently at their receptions. And I’d wonder why weddings push everything to the limit, from our relationships to our budgets—and in the case of my breakdancing cousin-in-law—our kneecaps. 

And so, Save the Date was born—the product of my champagne-induced melancholia, fascination with social dynamics, and worshipful reverence for movies like My Best Friend’s Wedding, Father of the Bride, and Four Weddings and a Funeral. It follows the bride, Marigold, who’s not sure if she’s marrying Jonathan for love or to prove that she’s loveable; Natalie, her maid-of-honor, who’s terrified to admit to herself—let alone anyone else—that she still pines for Jonathan, and Marigold’s older sister Olivia, who’s always cleaned up Marigold’s messes and may have finally had enough this time.

The central challenge was making each woman’s observations feel honest and specific to them. I knew if I wasn’t careful, my complicated feelings about weddings would come through at a higher volume than those of my characters. I had to ensure my social anxiety didn’t seep into “It Girl” Marigold, or that my thoughts on the excesses of late-stage capitalism didn’t bias Olivia the corporate lawyer. (I channeled those into Olivia’s love interest, Zack.) And I had to let poor Natalie make mistakes that I (hope) I’d never make myself. 

Almost as difficult was painting an entertaining yet passably realistic portrait of Marigold’s rarefied world, one full of yachts I’ve never sailed on and private jets I’ve never boarded. Like Natalie, though, I spent hours tutoring the children of Manhattan’s .00001 percent in apartment buildings with heavier security than many embassies, and townhouses with multiple Picassos. I’ve witnessed how that level of wealth warps anyone’s conception of reality, which made it the perfect backdrop for the disastrous wedding that brings out the very best and the very worst in my characters. 

I’m not sure Save the Date fully answers the questions that inspired it, but I had a lot of fun examining them. And I hope you have a blast reading it whether you’re coupled-up, navigating the perils of online dating, stuck in a situationship, or relishing your singlehood. I’ve been there, and I’m raising a glass to you in solidarity! 


Save The Date: Amazon|Barnes and Noble|Bookshop|The Ripped Bodice

Author’s socials: Instagram

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Posted by Unknown

My latest collection of Serious Essays is now available as a 150 page PDF book.

It contains  -- 

The second part of my critique of CS Lewis's moral philosophy, this time diving deep into his theory of justice in The Humanitarian Theory of Punishment, Why I Am Not a Pacifist and Delinquent in the Snow. 

Plus:

What Did CS Lewis Make of Jesus Christ
The Cardinal Difficulty With Bulverism



Last Night in Decatur

2026-Apr-17, Friday 12:34
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Posted by John Scalzi

A couple of people showed up to see Brandon Sanderson and me have a chat.

Let’s be clear these are mostly Brandon’s folks; I was a value-add here. A very nice value add to be sure! But definitely the support act. Brandon and I have been pals for a couple of decades now and he used the event as an excuse to for us to catch up. I was happy to do it, because a) I wanted to catch up too, and b) I knew our chat would be a lot of fun. And it was a lot of fun, at least from my point of view, and it was especially delightful to see how Brandon connects with his fans. There’s a lot of mutual appreciation going on there.

Now Brandon’s off to JordanCon and I am off to Los Angeles, for the LA Times Festival of Books and then meetings next week. I’m glad we got the chance to catch up, in front of an audience and also away from it. Life keeps us all busy, clearly. You take your moments where you can get them.

— JS

2: City of Death (i)

2026-Apr-17, Friday 12:00
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Posted by Unknown

City of Death is very good.

Perhaps not quite as good as its reputation suggests: but definitely very good.

On October 20th 1979, sixteen million people watched the final instalment of the story. Sixteen million. In 2026, a drama series is doing pretty well if six million viewers switch on.

Times were, of course, different. There were three channels, and one of those showed nothing but cricket commentaries in Welsh. There was no internet, cinemas showed the same movie for weeks on end, and the pubs didn’t open until 5.30. Kids (I am told) were allowed to play marbles and hopscotch unsupervised on street corners, but they had to come home when it got dark. 

So there was not much to do at quarter past six on a Saturday apart from watch Doctor Who.

The autumn of 1979 was unusual even by the standards of the time. ITV had replaced its regular programming with a card which said “We are sorry that programmes have been interrupted: there is an industrial dispute.” In August one of the ITV unions had gone out on strike in support of a perfectly reasonable 25% pay rise. They went back to work at the end of October, whereupon some of the BBC unions downed tools over an equally reasonable dispute about who was responsible for making sure the big hand and the little hand were in the correct positions on the Play School clock. (Or, according to some sources, that the Crackerjack clock was set to precisely five to five.) This resulted in the cancellation of Shada. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy includes a skit about the philosophers' guild threatening a walk-out over demarcation.

There is a widely dispersed oral tradition that a million people continued to watch ITV even when it wasn’t showing anything, and that there was a notable jump in the birth rate the following April.

But still, sixteen million is an awful lot of people. Enough to fill a line of double decker busses stretching from Lands End to John O’Groats. Or five entire Waleses.

What impression of Doctor Who did those sixteen million people come away with?



At the end of Episode One, the villainous Count Scarlioni pulls off a latex mask and reveals himself to be….a scaly green alien with one cyclopian eye.

This scene frequently turns up on compilation reels, alongside the Myrka and the Skarasen, as evidence of how primitive Old Who was and how right Michael Grade was to put it out of its misery. It’s actually not badly done: not as clever as the Sarah-Jane reveal in Android Invasion, but quite fun all the same. Julian Glover puts his hands to his actual face, we quickly cut to the mask being removed from what could well be a mannequin, and then back to Glover (or his stand-in) looking at his alien self in the mirror. The exact same shot is used when he unmasks again in Episode Four.

There is no particular reason for the Count to have pulled the mask off at that particular moment. Maybe, like the Slitheen, he just finds it uncomfortable to wear for prolonged periods. Julian Glover apparently did, hence the stand-in. [2]

But the cliffhanger does have a function. On the surface, Scarlioni is an urbane, Simon Templar bad guy: a witty, aristocratic art thief. But under the skin, he is decidedly a Doctor Who monster.

And that really tells us everything we need to know about City of Death. It appears to be a sit-com: a Wildean comedy of manners in which every line is a zinger or an aphorism. But under the bonnet, it is still very much a Doctor Who story.

Or, if you prefer: City of Death is a rather clever, high-concept science fiction romp which has cleverly disguised itself as a social comedy.


In the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams reduced the meaning of life to a punchline. City of Death turns on a similar conceit. When we were very young, human existence seemed to acquire new meaning and significance once you knew that an inscrutable alien stand-in for the Deity had been playing Strauss to cave-men since before the Dawn of Time. But that idea had become familiar through over-use, Daniken’s space-gods and Arthur C Clark’s Monolith were now ripe for parody. 

Count Scarlioni is really Scaroth of the Jaggeroth. Zillions and zillions of years ago, he blew up his warp drive, inadvertently kicking off the chemical reaction which gave birth to Life on Earth. As a side effect, he was split into twelve “splinters” of himself, scattered across time, and they have been clandestinely influencing human civilisation ever since. He wants to get humans to the point where they can help him construct a Time Machine, go back to the Dawn of Time and prevent the accident, and therefore the human race, from ever occurring.

As science fiction shaggy dog stories go, it’s quite a strong one. Alan Moore’s alien frat-boys DR and Quinch messed around with human evolution because they wanted the continents to spell out a very rude word in their own language. It’s a long way from the Star Child and Thus Spake Zarathustra.

These kinds of wibbly wobbly timey wimey plots were pretty rare in classic Who. Fans at the time felt that the use of the TARDIS to ferry the Doctor back to the Renaissance and then to the Dawn of Time was a severe breach of narrative etiquette. And to be honest, it is rather lame, given that it is only two stories since the Doctor relinquished control of the TARDIS to the Randomiser.

“Oh but Andrew, surely the Doctor can switch the Randomiser on and off when he wants to?” Yes: yes I am sure he can. And there might very well have been a scene in which he said that in order to save humanity he would have to make himself vulnerable to the Black Guardian. But there isn't.

In Episode Three, Scarlioni rants: “Can you imagine how a man might feel who has caused the pyramids to be built, the heavens to be mapped, invented the first wheel, shown the true use of fire, brought up a whole race?” In becoming a God Like Alien and taking control of human development, he is entering a fairly crowded field. The Daemons and the Fendahl and Sutehk have all had their turn. The Doctor is not above a bit of benign uplifting himself. In Pirate Planet he was claiming to have taught Newton about gravity (with a g); and this week he claims to have encouraged Shakespeare to write Hamlet. I imagine there is some fan-fic, or possibly a collectible card-game, in which the Doctor and the GLAs are engaged in an eons-long four-dimensional chess game, one heaving the human race hither and the other hauling it thither. Perhaps so many of them are at it that in the end it hardly makes any difference and Homo Sapiens is in control of his own destiny. Or perhaps it’s a huge philosophical metaphor: what we think of as  “human history” is merely the intersection of the self-interested schemes of forces far beyond our comprehension -- in the same way that what we like to think of as our “selves” is really the locus for an infinite number of malicious or benevolent “memes”.

But that line of thinking ruins the cosmic joke. While we are watching this story, we have to pretend that Life on Earth really is and always has been an accidental by-product of Scaroth’s scheming. City of Death is only fun if we pretend that Image of the Fendahl never happened. The Doctor travels sideways through multiple iterations of a single idea, not forwards and backwards along a singular timeline that gradually reveals itself.


Laugh at Doctor Who’s production values if you like: I am sure many of the Sixteen Million did.  But I don't think this kind of thing would have worked if it had been mounted on a more impressive scale. In Episode Four, the Doctor, Romana and their new friend Duggan arrive on Primeval Earth, seconds before the Jaggeroth ship accidentally gives birth to life as we know it. This is big, cosmic, biblical stuff. The Jaggeroth says let there be radiation and behold there is radiation. And yet what we are looking at is three actors and a guy in a mask in front of a painted backdrop in a studio. A perfectly good painted back-drop: not something you would single out as a terrible example of Doctor Who’s make-do-and-mend ethos. The model space ship is really nice and you can’t see the wire when it takes off. But it’s artificial: we have to suspend our disbelief and eke out its imperfections with our mind. If it had been a full-on CGI set piece, which we could swear had been filmed on location in the Archaeozoic epoch [3] we could never have bought into the preposterousness of the premise.


1: Creature From the Pit got a perfectly responsible ten million viewers, so in fact we are talking about six million people who would rather have been watching Mind Your Language.

2: One Richard Sheeky apparently, who has an impressive CV including such roles as Man at Reunion, Man, Policeman, and Man (Uncredited).

A quiet patch ...

2026-Apr-17, Friday 10:33
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So, I had my second round of eye surgery, and it worked fine. I got a short distance lens, leaving me myopic, which was expected, and I've booked an opthalmology appointment for the earliest possible date post-surgery (in mid-May, the eye needs to settle for six weeks post-op). In the meantime, I'm without visual correction.

And guess what? My vision is changing. My left eye is increasingly myopic, to the point where it's now difficult to read on screen. (And I can barely read with my right eye at all, due to a retinal occlusion that covers about half the visual field.) For writing/editing I've blown up the text size to 250%, which is just tolerable but gives me a headache after a while: new prescription specs can't come soon enough.

NB: don't suggest half-assing corrective lenses using off-the-shelf stuff, my eyes are kinda complex and I'm not just myopic, there's other stuff going on there. Also, don't suggest dictation software: I use a complex vocabulary and punctuation that aren't a normal part of the use case the designers of such software anticipated, i.e. business correspondence. And absolutely don't suggest podcasts or text-to-speech software: I can't absorb information that way. I'm fed up with people trying to convince me to try something I've tried repeatedly to use (and that has failed for me) over the past 30 years: it's irritating, not helpful.

... In other news: despite the above I'm still plodding along at book 2 of the proposed duology (but making very slow progress because writing 1000 words in a day is the new writing 4500 words in a day). And I'll be at Satellite 9 in Glasgow next month, probably before I have new glasses, so if you see me and I fail to make eye contact across a room it's not you: I'm just blind as a bat.

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Posted by Lisa Herzog

What does it mean to be an academic in different parts of the world? What comes along as the same job description – a bundle of teaching, research, and impact tasks – varies enormously from place to place. Not only the financial conditions of universities differ, but also the social standing of researchers. This is probably what one needs to expect in a world shaped by inequalities along so many lines – geopolitical power, financial resources, cultural influence, race, gender etc. But arguably, there are additional problems within academia. For example, certain academic centers, typically situated in the Global North, dominate the discourse in whole fields, and the opportunities to gain international visibility are distributed very unevenly across countries. 

Last summer, I had written on this lack of Global Science Equity. It is problematic for at least two reasons. The first is moral: some of the global inequities are so stark that they stand in blatant contrast to the meritocratic rhetoric still widely used within academia. When being situated in favorable circumstances gets framed as “talent” or “excellence,” and being from a disadvantaged country as “lacking quality,” this is an unjust distortion of the facts, which leads to misguided distributions of respect and recognition across academics worldwide.* The second is epistemic: academic research works best if diverse perspectives and approaches are taken into account, not if there are steep status hierarchies and historically grown centres of gravity that determine what research gets done and under which paradigms. 

Of course, knowing that some things are unjust is not the same as knowing what would be ideally just – a point that Amartya Sen has famously made, arguing that we can move away from injustice even though we may not have a blueprint of a perfectly just world. Some inequalities in the situation of researchers across the globe are probably unavoidable, given the manifold differences between countries (if only something like being in the “wrong” time zone, which makes participation in online events difficult). Hence, the term “Global Science Equity” (instead of “Global Science Justice”) is meant as a way of capturing the imperative of reducing the most massive imbalances and unfair disadvantages and moving in the right direction. 

These are some of the considerations that led us – Amal Amin, Flavia Maximo, Darlene Demandante, and me – in 2025 to start a survey among researchers about their working conditions and experiences. We had hoped to complement some of the existing research on related topics, for example the reports by the Global Young Academy on the state of young scholars in different parts of the world (on Africa here; on Latin America and the Caribbean here), or various reports about the experiences of women in science (e.g. here) and in science organizations (e.g. recently here on national academies). 

 

Methodology

We had hoped to reach sufficient numbers of participants to do sophisticated statistical analyses about, say, how much travel money for international conferences doctoral students in Latin America vs. Sub-Saharan Africa get. Alas, the numbers of responses were not large enough for that level of detail, despite our efforts to circulate the survey on social media and in various science organizations (e.g. Women in Science Without Borders, Societies for Women in Philosophy, Global Young Academy, Rede Brasileira de Mulheres Cientistas). We were probably too ambitious, wanting to cover a broad variety of issues and leaving many open-ended questions in order to get a good grasp of the different social experiences. 

Nonetheless, we got 146 answers, enough for some statistics – and certainly for some qualitative analysis. We are extremely grateful to everyone who took the time to share their experiences. We here present some of the results, in full awareness that the sample is small and we thus cannot claim statistical significance.** We start with some descriptive statistics, and then move on to the more qualitative parts of the survey. Originally, the survey was in English; on request from colleagues in Brazil, Flavia produced a Brazilian translation as well. 

64 participants were from OECD countries and 82 from non-OECD countries. Female academics were 115 of the respondents, 29 were male and 2 identify with another gender; this probably reflects our dissemination efforts in several organizations for women researchers. Regarding race/ethnicity, 49 identify themselves as White; 26 as Black; 21 as Asian; 11 as from Middle East and North Africa; 10 as Latinx/Hispanic and 5 as multiracial; 17 persons did not declare their race/ethnicity. 

Some quantitative data

a) Do you work in the country in which you grew up?

 

 

The data show striking asymmetry between OECD and non-OECD respondents regarding geographic mobility. While OECD-based researchers are almost evenly split between those who remained in their country of origin (31) and those who did not (32), non-OECD respondents show a strong tendency toward working in their country of origin (75 out of 82). This pattern – if representative – suggests that geographic mobility in academic careers might operate differently across geopolitical contexts. In OECD systems, international mobility is both structurally incentivized and often institutionally required for career advancement. In non-OECD contexts, by contrast, the concentration of researchers working in their countries of origin may reflect constrained mobility for economic reasons.

This economic interpretation suggests itself because in our data, mobility resources were sharply unequal. Among parsable answers to our question about annual travel funding, non-OECD respondents cluster at $0, while OECD respondents cluster around $2,000, reaching up to $6,000. 44% of Non-OECD participants reported having no funding at all for traveling. This is an inequality with direct implications for participation in international networks, invitations, and collaboration ecosystems that shape grant and publishing outcomes.

These outcomes are also shaped by language barriers. English dominance is system-wide, with most participants reporting that they are expected to publish in English. But compliance burdens differ: overall, Non-OECD respondents are more likely to report needing language editing before submission, which takes time and money – though of course, there are also Non-OECD countries, e.g. India, in which English is the dominant academic language. Non-OECD respondents more frequently face the extra step of language editing, and also show a higher overall rate of personal payments for such language services. Some, however, expressed the hope that with affordable AI language editing options, these unequal burdens may become smaller. 

 

b) Have you had career interruptions resulting from family duties (e.g. parental leave) – if yes, please specify brief



Across the full sample, 60 respondents (41%) reported career interruptions due to family duties, against 80 who did not; 6 for reasons that they did not want to disclose. The majority career interruptions were with female academics (52) and mostly due to maternity leave (but note that we had a high number of female respondents, as reported above). The OECD subsample shows a near-equal distribution (32 yes, 30 no), while non-OECD respondents report fewer interruptions in relative terms (28 yes, 50 no). 

These figures must be read with caution, because lower reported interruption rates among non-OECD respondents do not necessarily indicate more favorable conditions. They may, instead, reflect the absence of institutional policies such as parental leave policies, which means that the data – if representative – risk underrepresenting the actual burden of care (and note that we were not able to control for rates of parenthood among researchers at all, another potentially confounding factor). Yet another factor might be different cultural understandings of parenthood (and in particular motherhood) and the social acceptability and affordability of outsourcing care work. More research is needed to illuminate these differences. 

 

c) Do you have to take on other jobs, in addition to your “day job” at a research institution or university, in order to make ends meet?

That 60 out of 146 respondents (41%) reported needing supplementary employment to sustain themselves financially represents a significant indicator of structural precarity within academia. The disproportion between OECD (23 yes) and non-OECD (37 yes) contexts is notable, though not as sharp as might be expected. This means that precarity, while more pronounced outside OECD countries, is by no means absent within them, especially in earlier career stages. These findings complicate the assumption that academic labor would always mean stable professional employment (maybe especially for women). Labour precarity appears across different career levels, but especially among doctoral students, independent scholars, and researchers without permanent contracts. 

Another datapoint may be related to the need to earn an additional income. In our responses, OECD affiliation correlates with earlier academic timing in this dataset: the clearest marker is age at PhD completion (median 30 in OECD countries vs. 34 in Non-OECD countries ), coupled with much younger OECD doctoral/postdoctoral ages. This points to different structurings of academic pathways, with people from non-OECD countries taking longer to get academic degrees and academic positions, maybe because of the need to also pursue other endeavors to maintain oneself, in academic systems with less structural funding for young researchers. 

 

Some qualitative data

On many other issues, we asked qualitative questions. Let us emphasize once more that we cannot claim statistical representativeness here (nor, obviously, verify the claims made by participants). 

Concerning experiences of discrimination, there were many entries in which women or people of color reported being a minority in their field, which made them feel not at home at academic events, but there were also reports of direct discrimination by academic managers, and of sexual harassment of the form that one can, sadly, call “classic.” One participant claimed to experience discrimination as a man because women were given preference in his field; while we cannot judge this specific case, it raises the problem of how to morally and practically deal with the disappointment of men in previously male-dominated fields that are being opened up to women (or along other lines), and about how to win them as allies in the fight against discrimination. One person pointed out that when “voices from the South” are invited, those might exclusively be those of Indigenous peoples and local communities (which are undeniably also of great importance), not those of scholars from these countries. 

When it comes to journals, many respondents focused on the theme of substance over formalities. For example, papers should not be rejected (by editors or reviewers) because of small linguistic issues that are difficult to avoid for non-native speakers; instead, there would, ideally, be help with linguistic issues at the stage of acceptance. 

Many respondents also reacted to the question about “token representation”: researchers from disadvantaged groups being included because this makes projects look better, without being taken fully seriously. At least 30 provided answers that directly reported such experiences. Some expressed great anger about it, others saw it as an unavoidable consequence of affirmative action programs and were therefore more ambivalent about it. 

Overall, a key insight from these qualitative data is that inequity in science is multidimensional, runs across different dimensions, and sometimes takes unexpected forms. For example, when it comes to languages, researchers from English-speaking non-OECD countries may experience fewer problems than those from non-English-speaking OECD countries. There are invisible obstacles such as chronic illnesses which lead to very different forms of exclusion, than, say, being visibly radicalized. For some scholars, time zones are a great challenge when it comes to international academic events or digital calls, for others, different academic calendars, for some, both.

To give some concrete examples: Young scholars at conferences on other continents may suddenly find themselves in unsafe situations because their phones do not work there and they cannot afford to pay for phone data, and they get lost on the way back from the conference dinner because no printed maps were provided. A form of exclusion that is probably relatively new is that international scholars from certain countries who work in the US cannot travel outside the country because they fear that they might not be allowed back in. 

Let us also note that several participants pointed out that we should have paid more attention to class as a category of inequity, e.g. when researchers come from very high class-positions in non-OECDs countries compared to people from disadvantaged class backgrounds in OECD countries – a point very well taken. 

 

Towards global science equity

One respondent from the Global North wrote: “I would like […] to hear voices from the Global South telling rich universities from the Global North what we can do that will be useful to and welcomed by them. I don’t know whether the voices are speaking and I’m not hearing them, but I think a lot of Global North academics would be enthusiastic about being involved with initiatives that help to equalise things, but nobody has any idea what to do – and they don’t want to make suggestions that might come across as (or indeed unwittingly be) patronising or racist”  

By combining the responses to the open-ended questions in our survey regarding best practices in international projects, cooperations, or scientific associations, we can provide some answers to this question. 

Diversity as a default aspect of science

Whether in terms of gender, race/ethnicity, class, age, nationality, language, or models of scientific knowledge, diversity was seen by many respondents as a key element for a global science equity. Inclusiveness along all these dimensions should not be something one has to argue for and justify, but be accepted as a mandatory dimension of academic work, whether it is in organizing conferences, running research teams, or reviewing for and editing journals. Participants highlighted the need for more diverse collaborations, respecting local realities, with knowledge transfer between different countries.

Including early-career academic researchers was repeatedly suggested as a way to reduce power imbalances: offering mentorship, funding and training opportunities, and thinking about capacity building as a core goal.  Also, providing support for childcare was often raised, as well as sensitivity to the needs of people with special medical needs or disabilities.

Simple suggestions that can be easily adopted into daily academic life were mentioned, such as more flexibility when it comes to the use of English; providing translation and language editing support or even allow submission in other languages, with the possibility of a later translation; awareness of the academic calendar in the Global South when scheduling conferences or meetings; moving meeting hours around to make it easier for participants in different time zones.

Quite some participants who had either little travel funds, or care responsibilities, or both, pointed out the advantages of online conferences and regretted the fact that after the end of the Covid-Pandemic, far fewer opportunities for online participation in international academic events remained intact. This raises the question of how in-person conferences might do more to keep open channels for those who cannot easily attend, whether as part of conferences or in the form of, say, digital reading groups or seminar series.  

 

Geopolitical redistribution of funding 

The unequal distribution of research, publication, and conference participation funds is one of the driving factors of the lack of Global Science Equity. As a solution, respondents suggested specific funds for including researchers from poorer countries in international events; hybrid options in conferences for participants for whom international travel is difficult; conference or membership fees that are differentiated according to GDP of the country of residence; or research funding opportunities where emerging countries compete with each other, not with better-resourced countries from the Global North. Transparent funding structures, with clear guidelines on fund allocation, disbursement, and reimbursement to avoid inequities or delays were also pointed out as best practices.

In addition to the lack of visibility for researchers from the Global South, who cannot obtain funding for publications, conferences, or projects, the concentration of resources in countries of the Global North has been experienced by some respondents as a form of control over scientific knowledge. One participant wrote that “collaborations should be equal, not the one who brings the money calls the shots. They can have the money as bait but they cannot do the research without the local partner, especially in the Global South.” Another respondent pointed out that countries of the Global South often continue to be treated as case studies for research from countries of the Global North, without being granted a leading role in theoretical production.

 

Horizontal academic relationships

Many respondents called for fair and transparent procedures in all aspects of scientific knowledge production. Some expressed the hope that it would be possible to achieve more equity when younger researchers get more of a say. As one participant wrote: “I think getting younger generations more involved is key to changes – and part of the struggles as scientific associations are often dominated by older academics with rather stubborn views”.

The generational difference in positions of power (often intersecting with a lack of female representation) has often been identified as problematic. Therefore, a broader distribution of decision-making power is essential for working towards more equity in science, with strategies that allow all researchers, and not only those with insider knowledge or a powerful mentor at their side, to participate equally. Such strategies include simplifying bureaucratic processes for accessing resources; standardizing reporting formats; using open science practices, sharing data, protocols, and outcomes for  the benefit of all partners, and eliminating the “friend-factor” in scientific relationships. An implicit theme in many answers was the endogamy of access to funds, networks, and visibility among researchers from the same institutions and the same countries, typically higher GDP and situated in the Global North. As long as the right to define what counts as “good science” remains exclusively in these circles, without attention to different local circumstances and different epistemic opportunities, the inequities of the global science landscape will be difficult to overcome. 

One final thought: A structural problem that might arise from the multiplicity of discriminatory experiences that we have described is that many academics may feel disadvantaged one way or another. While true in some sense, this may make us overlook the really drastic differences on a global level that matter far more, morally speaking. It reinforces an attention economy that is all too often dominated by old path dependencies (what were the “leading” centers in a certain field half a century ago?). The practical steps described above may help, in concrete ways, to overcome these unjust and epistemically harmful hierarchies, and to move towards more Global Science Equity.

 

This post has been written by Flavia Souza Maximo and Lisa Herzog. We would like to thank Amal Amin and Darlene Demandante for their support in the phase of setting up and distributing the survey, and Paulo Savaget for his help in analysing the data and commenting on a draft version. AI was used for summarizing some of the data, with manual doublechecking. All remaining errors are ore own. 

 

—————- 

 * If you’re skeptical of this claim, have a look at the distribution of Nobel prizes and other international science prices – looking at those, one might think that vast parts of the world do not even have academic research… 

 

 ** Also, it may be the case that our survey has been filled in mostly by people who feel that they have been treated inequitably in some way or another by the academic system. We had been open about the framing, which is preferable in terms of research ethics, but this might have biased the sample by not appealing to those think that there are no issues with equity in the scientific system. 

 

The Power of Possibility

2026-Apr-16, Thursday 00:00
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Posted by Anil Dash

It’s rare that you get to see work that directly helps those who most deserve it, but I want to tell you about the opportunity we so seldom get to actually contribute in a way that we know will have real impact.

I’ve been on the board of the Lower Eastside Girls Club for about a decade, getting a front row seat to seeing what a truly community-focused and effective organization can do for those in need when things are done the right way. This is the model of what we want our public institutions to be — laser-focused on the needs of its members, extremely ambitious in its goals, and measurably effective in its outcomes.

I’m asking you to support the Girls Club in one of two ways:

  • You can donate directly to support the work that the Girls Club does (If you know what a donor-advised fund is — now’s your chance to use it!)
  • Or if you’re in NYC on May 7, join us at Webster Hall for our incredible 30th Anniversary Gala where we are going to throw down

Actually changing lives

The Girls Club serves girls who are amongst the most in-need in all of New York City, and boosts important measures like graduation rates to levels 15% higher than the district average. The way that the club does it is by providing year-round programming in the arts, STEM, civic engagement, leadership, wellness, college and career pathways, and much more — including a deep connection to a sense of community. All of this happens in a facility that is nothing short of magical, where there’s a green roof, a full recording studio, a commercial-grade kitchen, a wonderful crafting room, and even an actual planetarium. And all of these resources are made available to the girls entirely for free.

The programs and support that the team provide to the girls work. It changes their lives. I know this because I’ve seen it. Now that the club has been around for a generation, we’ve seen girls grow up to become incredible students, leaders in the community, entrepreneurs, activists, artists, and even a new generation of mentors in the Girls Club itself.

Then, the backlash against DEI and this kind of community support threatened the very survival of the Girls Club.

Even though the club has always had its share of ups and downs, there had almost never been as much of a concerted attack on its foundations until the dark times of this last year. It’s taken a toll on the club and its staff, and threatened to put the programming and support for the girls at risk. After a decade on the board, I stepped up to become chair of the board to try to help.

Because the truth is, the team at the club does what works: specific, local action, that considers individuals as whole humans, and tends to their needs in a complete way. We’ve given out tens of thousands of free meals to the community as needed ever since COVID began, because people can’t learn when they are hungry. We’ve added multi-generational classes on things like wellness, because it takes the support of entire families to keep kids on the right track for their education, or to support them making big, ambitious choices to change their lives for the better. And of course there is support for every form of creativity from technology to sewing to DJing to, yes, exploring the stars in the planetarium. Because, for too long, those were areas of imagination that didn’t always get presented as options on Avenue D.

Here’s what I can promise you: every single penny that you give to support this organization will be used incredibly efficiently. The staff of the organization show up every single day to fight for these girls, and their families, and this community. I can personally attest to how accountable and effective their work is. If you are able to donate, I’ll give you a personal tour the next time you’re on the Lower Eastside, and take you through the amazing facility so that you can see for yourself the impact that you’ll be having on the future of our city, and these girls.

There’s always room for joy

Years ago, not long after I’d first joined the board of the Girls Club, we were trying to capture the spirit of what makes this place so special. It’s hard to articulate the energy, the brilliance, the optimism and spirit that the girls bring to the place through their sheer creativity and engagement. But eventually we settled on a few words that ended up becoming the slogan for the entire organization:

Joy. Power. Possibility.

I come back to those words a lot, even when things are hard, because I see it embodied in the work that has been done as alumni of the Girls Club have gone out into the world as young women who are now leaders and innovators and fearless voices across the city and across the country. We’re going to need your help to make sure we’re able to ensure that another generation of vulnerable kids get that same chance.

And the best part is that you can really experience the “joy” part of that motto if you join us at the Gala. Our annual fundraisers are not the usual stuffy nonprofit affairs. We’ve got a few tickets left for Webster Hall on May 7, where we’re honoring actress, writer, director, producer, activist and Lower Eastside legend Natasha Lyonne, H&M America’s Head of Inclusion and Diversity Donna Dozier Gordon, and our very own Lower Eastside Girls Club emerita Miladys Ramirez. Expect signature cocktails, an unforgettable dinner, and a dance floor you won't want to leave! I hope to see you there, or you can just give what you can and be there in spirit.

The Big Idea: Cameron Johnston

2026-Apr-16, Thursday 15:00
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Posted by Athena Scalzi

The Scientific Method is immensely helpful, but so is literal magic. Would the power of science prove to be more powerful than the power of wizardry? It’s tough to say, but author Cameron Johnston certainly speculates on the idea in the Big Idea for his newest novel, First Mage on the Moon. Read on to see how the Space Race might’ve happened with the help of a wizard’s staff.

CAMERON JOHNSTON:

For a bunch of wise folk that meddle with reality and break the rules of standard physics on a regular basis, wizards and mages in fantasy media seem a remarkably uncurious lot. Sometimes magic users are far more interested in other dimensions and eldritch creatures than in the mortal world they themselves inhabit. How many of them look up at the stars and wonder what they are, or gaze at the moon and ponder what that shining silver disc really is…and how they might get there?

First Mage On The Moon was born from a single Big Idea (OK, OK…the idle thought of a fantasy-fan): Without science, how would wizards describe gravity? Inevitably, that grew arms and legs and tentacles and thingamabobs into: What would they make of outer space? How would they breathe in a spacecraft when they don’t even know what oxygen is or why air ‘goes bad’. What about aerodynamics? and a whole host of other questions I didn’t then have answers for. When you only have a magical understanding of the world and the closest thing to science is the semi-mystical and secretive practice of alchemy, well, then things get complicated if you want to build something to visit the moon. Magic is not going to solve everything if you fly straight up and try to hit a moving object like the moon, and don’t factor in the calculations for orbits, gravity… or indeed the speed/friction of re-entry.

Science is an amazing and collaborative process and Earth’s 20th-century Space Race was a species-defining moment, but what if that happened in a fantasy world of mages, golems, vat-grown killing machines and grinding warfare. What if a group of downtrodden mages sick of building weapons of mass destruction for their oligarch overlords decided to go rogue and divert war materials into building a vessel to go to the moon, the home of their gods, and ask for divine intervention in stopping the war. When you have no culture of shared science, where do you even begin? 

All those thoughts and ideas stewed away in the back of my brain while I was writing my previous novel, The Last Shield. As all authors know, there comes a stage of writing a book when your brain goes “Ooh, look at the shiny new thing!” Very helpful, brain, coming up with magical rocket ships when I’m trying to write a book set in a fantasy version of the Scottish Bronze Age – thanks very much! That idea of wizard-science and magical engineering lodged there, immovable, and my next book just had to become First Mage On The Moon. Which was handy, as I was contracted to write another standalone novel.

While the US/USSR Space Race and modern science of our very own Earth was inevitably a huge influence on my novel, so too were the theories and writing of its ancient thinkers. Around 500 BCE, Pythagoras proposed a spherical world, and Aristotle later wrote several arguments for the same theory, such as ships sailing over the horizon disappearing hull-first and different constellations being visible at different latitudes (all of which may have given the Phoenician sailors and navigators certain thoughts too). And then comes Eratosthenes, Chief Librarian of Alexandria, and a very smart dude who was able to calculate the circumference of Earth by using two sticks in two locations and comparing the angles of their shadows. If those ancient Earth scholars could calculate such things, then surely fantasy mages, with all the magic at their disposal, could do more than fling fireballs at each other. There had to be some among them with the desire to explore beyond the bounds of myth and magic, gods and monsters, and given the opportunity to work with like-minds to build something that has never been done before, they would surely take it…despite the risks.

Found family, magical engineering, and mad ideas of actual science in a magical world all came together to form First Mage On The Moon. As much as I love my morally grey characters in realms of swords and sorcery, it was deeply satisfying to write something that little bit different, a hopeful story about human ingenuity in an increasingly fraught world. 


First Mage On The Moon: Amazon|Amazon UK|Barnes & Noble|Bookshop|Powell’s|Waterstones

Author socials: Website|Bluesky|Facebook|Instagram

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Posted by Dan Robinson

Giant UAV package will include strike, recon, logistics, and maritime systems

The UK government says it will deliver at least 120,000 drones to Ukraine this year to help it fight against Russia.…

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Posted by John Scalzi

A very arboreal view today. It’s a little misleading, since if you look left from here you’ll find a not unbusy street. Still, it would be churlish to complain about a bit of green in one’s window.

I’m in the area for an event tomorrow in which I am in conversation with Brandon Sanderson, prior to him spending time at JordanCon, and me at the LA Times Festival of Books (which will not be in the Atlanta area, but in Los Angeles). Our event is already sold out, so if you missed getting tickets, I’m sorry. Perhaps there will be a audio or video recording of it at some point.

And what about today? Well, I have a hotel room to myself and no one expecting anything of me until tomorrow afternoon around this time. I think I’ll take a nap and then see where the day takes me.

— JS

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Posted by Rebecca Watson

Transcript: Many years ago, a friend of mine suggested an experiment: make up a conspiracy theory that was just plausible enough, and then track how far it spreads. It was fun to talk about, and he had a great one that I will not share here lest it escape containment, but obviously he never did …

The Big Idea: A.Z. Rozkillis

2026-Apr-15, Wednesday 15:35
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Posted by Athena Scalzi

When there’s a million and one paths in front of you, how do you know which decision to make? What if you don’t even have control over which one you end up on? Author A. Z. Rozkillis explores the idea of every decision we make, or don’t make, sending us on different paths throughout multiple realities. Journey on through the Big Idea for her newest novel, Fractal Terminus.

A. Z. ROZKILLIS:

In an infinite universe there are infinite possibilities. It’s a concept that has enamored me for decades, has led me into a career focused on space exploration and has fueled my endless love of science fiction. And that is probably why it is the Big Idea behind Fractal Terminus

When I intentionally ended my first book, Space Station X, on a cliffhanger, I never truly intended to write a sequel. I liked the idea of leaving the speculation up to the reader about could possibly happen after an event like that. More to the point, I didn’t think I deserved to be the person to establish, canonically, what the future would hold for my main characters. But nature abhors a vacuum, and the same could be said for the space between my ears. So, I figured if I don’t want to write one follow-on outcome, and if I preferred the idea that any possibility could be canon, then why don’t I write a book where I do just that? Where I explore numerous possible outcomes from one, singularly massive event. 

Fractal Terminus really digs down into the idea that with every flip of a coin, with every path chosen, with very outcome realized, there exists a separate universe (or infinite separate universes) in which the an alternate outcome could occur. I know it’s not a new idea, its just one I have felt, personally, immensely drawn to. The universe is so unfathomably endless, with there being no way for us to truly understand how vast it is. I feel that it is entirely plausible that somewhere, at the far reaches, there exists a reality in which I chose to study animal husbandry and not aerospace engineering. Or maybe I decided to eat that questionable leftover sushi rather than pitching it when I found it at the back of the fridge. Who knows? If the universe has no limit, then maybe every single possible reality is just wrapped around us.

For my characters, their personal universe is expanding too. My first book had a very narrow focus by design, because I had a main character who had reduced her whole universe down to the same five concentric metal rings of her space station. Jax refused to consider possibilities outside of that limited existence until she was forced to. Then she swallowed her pride and took the leap of faith on her feelings for Saunders. It could have gone either way, but canonically it worked out for Jax. Then they took a different plunge. Now Jax and Saunders are suddenly flung into a situation where they have to expand their view, because new experiences have that habit of broadening your perspective.  This Space Station is no longer a cramped, desolate and lonely existence, but a cramped, desolate and overcrowded experience, where Jax has to dust off her social skills and mingle in order to survive.  And as she lets her universe expand around her to include the souls locked in fate along side her, infinitely more universe opportunities unfurl. 

Some of these are fates she realizes she can control. She can see where her actions can lead her and Saunders and she can tell when it might not be the best path. But more often than not, Jax and Saunders are at the mercy of the universe itself. Nature is a cold and uncaring master, and sometimes the coin flip is not even remotely something anyone can control.

We face these moments every day. Will this person I am talking to be an ally? Will they be my demise? Will I regret this interaction or not? Is there, even remotely, anything I could have done to change this outcome? There isn’t really a way for anyone to know, so you might as well take the chance. As the universe is expanding rapidly on a macro scale, we are, all of us, every day, making small decisions that expand our microcosm just as rapidly.  Jax and Saunders expand their view on life to include the lives around them, while the universe expands to encompass every possible, even far-fetched idea of an outcome that could ever be considered. And that’s the big idea. The universe can you send you on an infinite number of outcomes, and you’ll never know which one you are in. So you are just going to have to take it on faith that you are on the right track. 


Fractal Terminus: Barnes & Noble|Bookshop|Space Wizards

Author socials: Website|Bluesky|Instagram

Music break: Baba Yetu

2026-Apr-15, Wednesday 09:12
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Posted by Doug Muir

Do you know Baba Yetu?

Take three minutes and listen to this performance of Baba Yetu.  (Our ancient blogging platform doesn’t like embedded video, so you’ll have to click through to YouTube.  Go ahead and click, nothing bad will happen.)

Some notes:

First off, if you didn’t figure it out from the short prayer at the end, this is religious music. “Baba Yetu” is “Our Father” in Swahili, and the throughline is the Lord’s Prayer.

“Baba Yetu” is part of the modern canon.  But it was originally composed as the theme music for a video game, and no I am not kidding.

Game: Sid Meier's Civilization IV [Windows, 2005, 2K Games] - OC ReMix

Did any of you play Civ IV?  It ate hundreds of hours of my life, back when.  It got a bit grindy in the late game, but otherwise it was pretty amazing.  Remember Leonard Nimoy doing all the technology quotes?  Did you ever manage to win a cultural victory?

Anyway.  Back in the early 2000s, one of the game designers had been college roommates with a guy who was taking a major in music composition.  And a few years after graduation, the former roommate was now an up-and-coming young composer. So the game designer reached out and asked the ex-roomie if he could compose a theme for their new video game.  He agreed, and the result was “Baba Yetu”.

The composer — Christopher Tin — went on to have a celebrated career.  He’s won a bunch of awards, including a couple of Grammys.  He’s still active.  A native Californian, he’s the son of immigrants from Hong Kong.  He’s done the theme music for every version of Civilization since IV (they’re up to VII now) — presumably out of sentiment, since he pretty clearly doesn’t need the work.

Meanwhile “Baba Yetu”, as I said, has become part the canon.  It’s been repeatedly covered and is regularly performed worldwide, by everyone from the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra to the US Navy Band.

With regard to this particular performance, the choir is South African, and it reminded me of a conversation I had a few years back.  I was somewhere in Africa — I’m going to say Uganda?  — doing USAID stuff.   And an African colleague and I were discussing an upcoming event.  And he casually mentioned that “there’ll be a mix of whites, and  South Africans, and blacks”.

“You mean white South Africans?”

“Yes, white South Africans.”

“But you said whites and South Africans, like they’re different things.”

“Well, I suppose they are different things.”

“White South Africans aren’t white?”

“Of course they’re white. They’re just African white.”

Anyway. South Africa has a complicated history that’s beyond the scope of this brief blog post.  And “diverse” is an idea that’s under siege right now.  But if seeing a bunch of young people of different races joyfully working together to make something beautiful doesn’t lift your heart just a little, then I don’t know what else to add.

And that’s all.

 

Dilly-Dallying In Denver: Day 3

2026-Apr-15, Wednesday 01:10
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Posted by Athena Scalzi

The title of this post is partially inaccurate, as part of my third day in Denver was spent in Boulder. Before going into Boulder, Alex and I decided to kick the day off with a mani pedi, and get matching colors. Cat eye polish, of course:

My freshly manicured and polished gel nails alongside my friend's longer, acrylic nails. They are both painted purple and sparkly.

I was obsessed with this color, and I think it looked especially good on Alex’s longer nails. I mean just look at these bad boys:

My nails, sparkling in the sunlight.

Sparkly!

With fresh nails, we finally headed towards Boulder. Our first stop was the Boulder Museum of Contemporary Art. This art museum is “pay from your heart,” which means you can pay as much as you feel like for admission. I love this idea because it makes art so accessible, especially for Boulder college kids. Art museum prices can be pretty intense, so being able to price the admission for what fits into your budget is really nice.

While I didn’t photograph any of the actual artwork, I did capture the summary of this specific exhibition they had going on called “Yes, &…“:

A white wall filled with words talking about theme of the exhibit.

I liked the theme. It was interesting, and all of the pieces I saw were definitely very unique and full of different mediums and mixed media. Very cool stuff all around, and the gift shop was awesome. I got some cute cards and stickers!

Right next door to the museum was the spot I was most excited for, the Boulder Dushanbe Teahouse. I have a hard time liking tea, but I love tea houses and tea time. It’s more of an aesthetic thing, really. And Dushanbe is, in fact, an extremely aesthetic tea house. With an ornate, colorful, interior filled with plants, statues, and high, hand-painted ceilings held up by hand-carved cedar columns, the artistry pours out of every nook and cranny. On their website, this page talks about the 40 different Tajikistani artists that created the art that makes this tea house so beautiful, as well as the capital of Tajikistan, the teahouses namesake.

Look how wild these details are!

A shot of the interior of the tea house. The cedar columns, painted ceiling, plants, and skylight are visible.

The tea house is very popular, and their daily Afternoon Tea requires a reservation 24-hours in advance. Their even more coveted weekend Dim Sum Teatime is only offered on select weekends throughout the year, and reservations are required 60 days in advance.

As amazing as those sounded, Alex and I just went for their regular walk-in lunch, no waiting or reservation required. Though while we were there, they were actively setting up for their Afternoon Tea, and I got to see some of that unfold and peek at some snacks they were served. Plus each tea time table gets fresh flowers on their table:

A table with a white tablecloth, with a small glass vase full of pink, beautiful flowers, and a small paper that explains the afternoon tea.

Besides their extensive tea menu, they also have some different beverages and cocktails to choose from:

A beverage menu with a chai latte, London Fog latte, Vietnamese coffee, golden milk latte, etc.

A list of tea cocktails and mocktails!

I love that all of their cocktails (and mocktails) have tea in them, so fitting!

I started off with their house chai, as my friend highly recommended it:

A small glass mug filled with chai.

I actually ordered this iced but it came hot, and I wasn’t about to complain. It really wasn’t a big deal and it was delicious hot, so it’s totally whatever. Alex definitely didn’t steer me wrong, this chai was very nicely spiced and not too sweet like a lot of chai lattes end up being.

I also ended up ordering the Espresso Bliss cocktail, because you already know I adore espresso martinis:

An espresso martini served in a coupe glass with three espresso beans on top.

Tea infused vodka, Marble Moonlight espresso liqueur, Colorado Cream Liqueur, and espresso. I liked that this espresso martini had both espresso liqueur and cream liqueur, as a lot of espresso martinis don’t have any kind of cream component. Which is fine, too, just sometimes I like them creamier and sweeter rather than cold brew style.

And a quick look at the food before ordering our tea:

The small plates menu, featuring soup, salads, and other appetizer type dishes.

The tea time entree menu, consisting of noodle dishes, some sandwiches, and entree style dishes like saag paneer.

We actually did not get any food because we were trying to make sure we were hungry for our reservations at Shells & Sauce later that day, so we just stuck with tea (and a lil bit of vodka for me, evidently).

Finally, time for our actual tea:

Two white teapots, two white teacups with two white saucers, and two tea pot shaped dishes to put your tea bag in.

We decided to share two pots, one of their white peach tea and one mango tea. They brought out our sets and a timer, and when the timer was done our tea would be done steeping. Alex took their tea plain, while I added copious amounts of cream and sugar. I’m a menace, I know.

I also wanted to show y’all this table behind ours, though it wasn’t cleaned off yet, look how nice this seating area is:

A cushioned seating area with a raised table in the middle. There's lots of nice throw pillows and it sits in the corner by windows. It reminds me of a fancy conversation pit.

I would love to sit here with a big group of friends and experience their Afternoon Tea service.

After our tea session concluded, we checked out the shop and ended up taking some tea home. I really liked this tea house and definitely want to come back for food sometime!

Once we drove back to Denver, we chilled at the apartment before heading to our dinner reservation at Shells & Sauce, which they say on their website is a neighborhood Italian bistro. They weren’t kidding. This place is located in such a random little neighborhood next to a dry cleaners and a Chinese restaurant, and is just a little place absolutely packed with excited diners. Line out the door, yet nothing flashy on the inside. Just a small neighborhood joint, as advertised.

While we had originally come for their Restaurant Week menu, we decided to not pursue that menu and just order whatever we wanted instead.

I started off with one of their signature cocktails, the Pearfect Martini:

A martini glass filled to the brim with yellow liquid and a pear slice.

Grey Goose La Poire (pear vodka), pear puree, lemon, and Prosecco. Does that not sound like a nice, refreshing, crisp martini? It was pretty good, definitely a little spirit-forward but it honestly might’ve just been a heavy pour. I mean, the glass is definitely very full.

We split two appetizers: the garlic cheese curds, and the crab cakes.

A metal basket full of cheese curds served alongside a little stainless steel dish of marinara.

The texture of these cheese curds was really good, they were nice and squeaky curds, too. I will say there wasn’t a ton of garlic flavor, they seemed more just like plain cheese curds, but who doesn’t love a good curd?

Two round pucks of crab cakes served atop a remoulade sauce.

While I’m always happy to have a crab cake, these ones weren’t particularly memorable. They weren’t bad at all but were just very standard.

Then, it was time for our entrees. I got the Stuffed Shells Duo:

Four stuffed shells with two different sauces, topped with arugula, cheese, and walnuts.

The two shells on the left were six-cheese stuffed shells with marinara, and on the right we have the sweet potato, butternut squash, and goat cheese stuffed shells with pesto cream.

While the flavor of the stuffed shells fillings were really good, especially the sweet potato one, the pesto cream sauce was a broken emulsion, and made the dish feel rather heavy and oily. So while the filling was tasty, I think the presentation and mouthfeel of the dish suffered from the oily sauce. Which is sad because I love pesto cream!

My friend just got chicken fettuccini alfredo:

A bowl of chicken alfredo with fettuccini noodles and topped with parmesan.

We opted not to get dessert. The food was okay, the vibe was okay, and the service was just okay. Honestly, I’d rather go here when there’s no dinner rush, sit on the patio, and just have some wine and bruschetta.

Once again we returned to the apartment, and this time we partook in the lovely amenities of the apartment, that being the rooftop pool and hot tub. It was definitely too chilly for the pool, especially because of the wind, but the hot tub was so nice.

After that brief relaxing period, we knew it was time to hit the bars (we only hit two, haha).

First up on our list was a rooftop bar super close to Alex’s apartment called Sorry Gorgeous. You’ll know you’re on the right path when you see this doormat in front of the elevator:

A black floor mat that reads

I really loved the interior design of Sorry Gorgeous. Green velvet couches, huge moon lamps, plants, a low-lit bar area and a great view of the nighttime skyline.

I didn’t take too many photos, but here’s some to get a general vibe for the place:

A shot of the bar, in which all the shelves are contained with a half circle built into the wall like a cave, but well lit and also there's plants!

I love how the shelves are built into the wall like it’s some sort of cave full of liquor.

A shot of the inside of Sorry Gorgeous, showing about half the bar with wooden bar stools (but not in a dive bar type of way, like a sophisticated way), plenty of the moon lamps I mentioned, plus lots of plants, and dim lighting.

As you can see, it wasn’t very crowded, most everyone resided on that half of the bar while my friend I were practically all alone on our side.

We ended up moving to this corner booth to take some photos together!

A green velvet semi circle couch with a giant moon lamp overhead.

I actually ended up taking a selfie I liked pretty well:

A shot of me! I'm smiling!

This was about number five hundred and sixty-four and I shortly gave up on photos after this because I figured one that I liked decently was good enough.

I ordered their All Saints cocktail:

A small coupe glass with yellow liquid and a lemon twist in it.

Made with Botanist gin, pear, elderflower, rhubarb, lemon, and winter spices, this cocktail was refreshing and slightly sweet, and felt sophisticated. As you can see, I clearly like pear.

I really liked the service here. Since they weren’t busy we actually ended up talking to one of the staff members for a while and he was super nice and cool. I definitely thought this place would have more of a mean-girl bartender energy but that ended up not being the case at all!

Next time I go, I would love to try their pistachio guacamole and crispy mini tacos.

Onto our next bar of the evening, the Yacht Club.

A black wall with white lettering,

A warm welcome, no doubt.

While a little small, it more so just has that cozy dive bar feel where yeah, sure you might bump elbows with someone once or twice, but it’s all peachy keen, we’re all comrades, y’know? The bar portion of the Yacht Club is built right into the corner:

A bar split in half by a corner, with two shelves of liquor up top.

What I initially thought was just a dive bar turned out to be something so much cooler and more unique. The Yacht Club is a wildly interesting cocktail bar that also has hotdogs. Lots of hotdogs.

A very tiny hot dog menu, with a huge variety of dog types, including a caviar dog.

Look at this adorable little teeny tiny hot dog menu! From the classic dog to a dog with caviar, to one served alongside a Jack and Coke, you’re sure to find your preferred type. Personally, I really wanted a sampler platter of all of them.

Aside from the hot dog menu, they had this drink menu:

A drink menu listing their house cocktails and seasonal specials, as well.

I went ahead and ordered the Chew-Chu:

A small glass filled with white wine colored liquid and ice.

I had never heard of shochu before, but it turns out it’s a lot like sake and soju in the sense it’s a Japanese spirit made from the same sort of base ingredients like rice, barley, and sweet potato.

Though this drink was a little dry from the Sauvignon Blanc, it had really good, light flavors and was refreshing to sip on.

Oh, and here’s their menu of “dope shit we have rn”:

A letterboard sign that says

That amused me greatly.

Y’all. Look what Alex got:

A can of Gatorade. Yes, a 12oz soda can type of can. But Gatorade.

CANNED GATORADE. Have you ever seen such a thing before?! This was so mind blowing, Yacht Club is officially the coolest place ever.

This is Alex’s drink but I genuinely can’t remember what the heck it is:

A small glass filled with whiskey colored liquid, with ice and an orange garnish.

Once we had our initial drinks, we were still so stuffed from dinner that I couldn’t have a hot dog, but I knew they clearly had caviar, so I asked if a caviar bump was available for purchase. I love a caviar bump, it feels so luxe and is so spontaneous and fun. Thankfully the bartenders, who were so much fun and absolutely hilarious, said yes, and even did one with us:

Three shrimp chips with caviar on them.

Yummy. You’ll never guess how much they cost, either. A cool and breezy five smackaroos. Have you ever had a cheaper caviar bump?!

After taking a house shot, which I definitely don’t remember what they poured us (and also did with us), I got this drink:

A small glass absolutely overflowing with pebbled ice and filled with dark pink liquid, served with an orange garnish.

I can’t remember the name of this one, but it was very good, with like, a ton of crazy flavors packed in. I know that’s not descriptive, I was decently drunk okay cut me some slack!

Okay, okay, one more, and this is in fact the final of the 36 photos. You’re all troopers. Here’s the final drink of the evening:

A tall glass filled with pale green liquid and topped with tons of pink pebbled ice. With mint garnish.

This one I do remember the name of. This is the Southside Swizzle. I actually really enjoy Southside cocktails, and this one was no exception. The mint with the strawberry and lime was an elite combo. I love the visual presentation here, too.

Just kidding, I have one more photo! Check out this flamingo wallpaper in their bathroom:

A bathroom wall covered in green and pink flamingo wallpaper!

Finally, we walked back to Alex’s apartment, had some snacks, and went to bed. It was a long but extremely fun and memorable day. I absolutely loved the museum, the tea house, Sorry Gorgeous, and the Yacht Club. Highly recommend all of them!

Have you been to Boulder before? Do you like rooftop bars as much as I do? Have you seen canned Gatorade before? Let me know in the comments, and have a great day!

-AMS

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Posted by Doug Muir

Before I depart this world, I would like to visit St. Giles’ Cathedral in Edinburgh, Scotland, and see the Jenny Geddes memorial. 

I’m told it’s open to the public.

No photo description available.

Why? What’s interesting about a stool?

Well, it’s probably impossible to point to a single moment, or a single object, and say “The Enlightenment began here.”.  But if you were absolutely forced to choose one moment and one object?  One pebble that started the avalanche? 

Then Jenny Geddes’ legendary stool, flying through the air on a hot summer Sunday in 1637, wouldn’t be a bad choice.


So the story: back in 1637, King Charles I decided to impose a new prayer book upon the Church of Scotland. 

PILGRIM ALMANAC: King Charles I and Five Fugitive Birds
[Charles I: cool outfits, bad King]

Charles was the King of three Kingdoms — England, Scotland, and Ireland — and all three had state-controlled Protestant churches.  The Protestant Church of Ireland was a minority Church, of course.  But almost everyone in England belonged to the Church of England, and almost everyone in Scotland belonged to the Church of Scotland. 

And these were two different Churches.  They were both Protestant, and mostly Calvinist in theology.  But they had completely different origins.  And they used different systems of Church government, different styles of architecture and art, and — this is key — different prayers.  And the Church of Scotland, in particular, was deeply bound up with Scots nationalism.

But King Charles wanted to harmonize the two Churches and bring their practices closer together.  (“Why?” is a perfectly reasonable question here, and “because Charles I was stubborn and not very bright” is a perfectly reasonable answer.)  So he had some Scots courtiers down in London write a new prayer book that was closer to the English one, and ordered that it be used in Scotland.


undefined
[cue ominous music]

This was not well received by the Scots. 

There were a lot of different reasons for them to dislike the new prayer book, starting with the obvious one that by forcing Scots to use English-style prayers rather than vice versa, it was a gross offense to Scots nationalism and Scots pride.  But also, many Scots were fanatically, almost hysterically, anti-Catholic.  And many of these Scots had come to suspect that King Charles, or at least some of the courtiers around him, were far too sympathetic to Catholicism, if not actually closet Catholics themselves.  The fact that Charles had a Catholic French princess as his Queen didn’t help here. 

Also, while Charles really was a devout Protestant, he thought the Catholic Church had some good ideas about music, art, and the dignity of the clergy.  So he was fine with nudging the Church of England towards a more Catholic look-and-feel: more ceremony, more ritual, more stained glass and incense and chanting.  Today we’d call it High Church (or, if you’re Low Church, “bells and smells”).

Even in England, many people viewed these changes with suspicion.  In Scotland, they were viewed with utter horror.  And changing the prayer book was seen as the tip of the crypto-Catholic wedge.

And so: on the first appointed Sunday, when ministers stood up and began delivering prayers, all hell broke loose.  In particular, at St. Giles Cathedral — the biggest, most important church in Edinburgh — legend has it that a woman named Jenny Geddes stood up, grabbed a stool, and hurled it straight at the minister’s head, shouting these memorable words:  “De’il gie you colic, the wame o’ ye, fause thief!  Daur ye say Mass in my lug?

The fause thief did not, in fact, daur.  He fled in terror, wame and all.  Services were cancelled, and no lugs were offended by Mass.

Jenny Geddes: the Reformer who let fly… | Reformed Perspective
[don’t mess with Jenny’s lug]

The historiographically sophisticated CT readership probably won’t be surprised to hear that (1) while a riot definitely took place, it’s not clear that Jenny Geddes started it; and, (2) actually, we’re not completely sure that Jenny Geddes even existed; and, (3) if she did exist and she did throw a stool, the stool is long gone: the memorial is a 20th century reconstruction.

But okay.  Putting these quibbles aside, why were Jenny and her stool so important?  

Because the Edinburgh riots outraged, outraged King Charles: how dare trash like Jenny Geddes defy him!  So instead of backing off, he doubled down.  (You may recall what I said about Charles being stubborn, and not too bright.) 

This turned what might have been an isolated incident into a sustained storm of national and religious feeling, culminating in the Scottish Covenant.  Which was basically the Scots uniting, arming themselves, organizing for war, and rebelling against King Charles (while loudly proclaiming that they weren’t doing any such thing). 

The official motto was “for religion, King, and kingdom” —

Covenanter flag | The Covenanters were a Scottish Presbyteri… | Flickr
[see, it’s right here on our flag!]

— but the unofficial motto was “the Kirk (Church) up, the King down, and the English out”.

Now, King Charles wanted to be an absolute monarch.  Not because he was evil, but because (1) he was raised that way, and (2) he was surrounded by flatterers who encouraged this, and being a very bad judge of character he believed them, and (3) as a young prince, Charles had spent time at the Hapsburg court in Madrid.  And — being not too bright — he had been deeply impressed by the power and grandeur of the Spanish monarchy and its court, without realizing that they were actually a bunch of incompetent bigots who were steadily driving Spain into decline and ruin. 

But while Stuart England didn’t have a constitutional monarchy as we’d recognize it, there was one big restriction on royal power: only Parliaments could pass taxes.  And English Parliaments disliked this whole absolutism thing. 

So Parliament after Parliament refused to give Charles money unless he agreed to some relatively modest restrictions on his royal power.  Which Charles, being stubborn, absolutely did not want to do.  So eventually, Charles just stopped calling Parliaments.  Instead, he decided to “live on his own” — running a modest government while casting about for ways to raise revenue without Parliament.

By 1637 he’d been doing this for a decade and — from Charles’ POV — it was actually working pretty well.  True, the English state was running very lean.  But England was pretty decentralized anyway: a lot of the actual work of government, from Poor Laws to Justices of the Peace, was done at the local level.  By 1637, it looked like Charles’ system of absolutism-on-the-cheap was settling down to be the long-term norm.

The main constraint Charles faced was that he couldn’t fight wars, because wars were very expensive, and would require him to call a Parliament for funds.  But Charles had a simple solution for that: he pursued a mostly isolationist foreign policy and didn’t fight any wars.

But in Scotland, Charles stupidly provoked a rebellion.  Jenny and her stool — and the hundred thousand Scots who promptly fell into line behind her — meant that Charles had maneuvered himself into the worst possible corner for a would-be absolute monarch.  Because now he either had to let ordinary Scots citizens (the Covenanters) dictate terms to him, or — in order to get the funds to suppress the Covenanters with military force — he had to summon an English Parliament,  which would immediately try to dictate terms to him.

This led to the following sequence of events:

Charles:  Well, I can’t allow an armed rebellion in one kingdom.  It might spread to the others!  It must be suppressed.  I’ll call a Parliament. [calls Parliament]
Short Parliament: We have some terms.
Charles:  What?  No!  [dismisses Parliament]
Scots:  Hey, looks like you can’t find any money to suppress us.  We’re adding some additional terms.
Charles:  Damn it.  [calls another Parliament]
Long Parliament [cracking knuckles]:  Now we /really/ have some terms.




I love this stuff.  But you probably don’t want to read 10,000 words of 17th century English history.  So let’s fast-forward a bit:

All of this led, through various twists and turns, to the Wars of the Three Kingdoms, aka the English Civil War.  Which led to King Charles getting his head cut off.

Jenny Geddes - Alchetron, The Free Social Encyclopedia

[how it started]

How did the first two King Charles do? Not great, it turns out ...

[how it’s going]

This in turn led to Cromwell, the Commonwealth, the Restoration, the Glorious Revolution, the Act of Toleration, the Bill of Rights, and… yeah, just a whole lot of history.  

Now: if there’s one big question about the last 500 years of world history, it’s probably “Why Europe”.  Why did Europe (and not Qing China or the Ottomans or whoever) get the Scientific Revolution, the Industrial Revolution, and the Enlightenment?  And why did Europe end up conquering or colonizing — at least for a while — pretty much the entire world outside of China, Japan, Iran and Anatolia?

I’m not going to go into all that today.  But consider this: if King Charles had been just a bit less stupid, or the Scots just a bit less ticked off, the rebellion might have been avoided. 

And in that case the most likely outcome is that Charles continues to bumble along for another 20 or 30 years until he dies peacefully in bed.  (Most monarchs did, after all, including many who were far more odious and incompetent than Charles.)  And in that case, we probably don’t get a United Kingdom, and we definitely don’t get a constitutional monarchy or a British fiscal-military state system.  Stuart Britain gets the worst of both worlds: a strong King with pretensions to absolutism, at the head of a very weak and perpetually cash-strapped state.  England remains, as it was in 1637, a second-rate power, pursuing a policy of isolationism because they can’t afford anything else.

Do we still get a Scientific Revolution?  Sure — all the pieces were in place by 1637.  We already have Galileo, Kepler, Descartes, Harvey, and Bacon.  Leibniz and Newton, Hooke and Boyle were already born.  This was a pan-European project from day one.  So while the details will be different, the general pattern should be much the same.

Do we still get an Industrial Revolution?  Probably, but I suspect it’ll be delayed by a generation or so.  And when it happens, its epicenter will be on the Continent, not Great Britain.  Unlike the Scientific Revolution, the Industrial Revolution was disproportionately British in origin.  And within Britain it was disproportionately — not entirely, but very disproportionately — driven by religious nonconformists.  Absolutist Stuart England is going to have a lot fewer of those.  Also, without the massive economic disruptions and land transfers of the Commonwealth period, England’s economy is going to be more agrarian, more conservative, more dominated by a handful of noble families.  So the train still leaves the station — again, the pieces were in place — but it will move a bit slower.

Does Europe still end up conquering pretty much everything by 1900?  Probably yes.  But in this timeline the great colonizing power will be France, not the United Kingdom.  The map still gets painted, but blue instead of red.  The French get India (they almost did anyway), and they keep Canada and the North American interior, penning England’s American colonies east of the Appalachians.  Eventually France gobbles up Southeast Asia, the Caribbean, and most of Africa, because they can.  We still get European colonialism everywhere, but now most of it is under the Bourbon fleur-de-lys.

Bourbon (The Royal Banner of France) flag color codes
[wider still, and wider, shall thy bounds be set]

There’s no French Revolution, or anything like it.  Why would there be?  No William of Orange, no Marlborough, no Blenheim or Ramillies.  Louis XIV sweeps the pot.  No British-led alliances of containment, no Royal Navy cheerfully devastating French trade again and again.  Stuart England won’t have the money for those things (and will probably be pro-French anyway).  So, no constant wars, ever more global in scope, loading the state with impossible debt.  And, of course, no English or American Revolutions as inspiration.

Do we still get an Enlightenment?  Okay, here’s where history really jumps the tracks.  Without Jenny Geddes and her friends, I don’t think we get an Enlightenment. 

There are no works by Hobbes or Locke in this timeline (Hobbes will still be around, but he won’t have much to say).  There’s no Commonwealth to serve as a test bed for all sorts of wild religious and political ideas, from putting a King on trial to letting the Jews come back.  There’s no Glorious Revolution, no Act of Toleration, no lifting of formal press censorship, no constitutional monarchy, no Bill of Rights.  Intellectual and political freedoms will still exist in a few places, most notably the Netherlands.  But there won’t be a large, powerful European country that is both little-l liberal and also an obvious economic and military success story. 

When we think of the Enlightenment, we probably first think of ancien regime France.  But most of the French philosophes were inspired by Britain as a proof of concept. In the universe where Jenny never throws her stool?  That won’t happen.  Montesquieu won’t spend years in England as a guest of Lord Chesterfield collecting material for _Spirit of the Laws_.  Voltaire won’t publish a book of essays admiring the advanced and progressive systems of government and political thought in Britain, because Still Stuart England won’t have those things. 

Europe’s dominant political model will be Bourbon / Hapsburg bureaucratic absolutism.  There will be odd exceptions like the Dutch and Swiss.  There will be internal critics and rebels.  But without the British examples in play, it’s hard to see what could seriously challenge that model.

The Enlightenment became a European project, and eventually a world project.  But at its beginning, it was deeply rooted in the particular historical experience of 17th century England and Scotland. And that particular historical experience was far from inevitable!  In fact, it was very weird and contingent.  Starting in 1637, the two British kingdoms quite suddenly took a right-angle turn into uncharted territory.  The consequences were momentous, and we’re still living with them.

Anyway.  If you go to St. Giles Cathedral?  Besides the modest memorial pictured above, there’s also a small plaque erected a couple of centuries later.  It reads:

“Constant oral tradition affirms that near this spot a brave Scotch woman Janet Geddes on the 23 July 1637 struck the first blow in the great struggle for freedom of conscience which after a conflict of half a century ended in the establishment of civil and religious liberty.”

Jenny Geddes and the English Prayers. Illustration for A nursery History of England by Elizabeth o' Neill (Jack, c 1920).

And that’s all.

[syndicated profile] crooked_timber_feed

Posted by John Q

Among other things, the unlamented former autocrat Viktor Orban was one of the leading proponents of pro-natalist policies, and more open than most about the racist underpinnings of his view. However, like others who have tried to raise birth rates, he wasn’t particularly successful. To understand why not, it’s useful to consider the question: how many babies do we want. In particular, since their choices are the relevant ones, how many babies do young women want?

Three distinct concepts are relevant here: the ideal number (a normative answer to a survey question), the intended/expected number (what respondents plan to have or think they will actually have), and the actual number (completed fertility). These diverge in systematic and informative ways.

Start with the ideal. Across most high-income countries, around 50-60% of young women report an ideal family size of two children, with a smaller group preferring 3 and another, smaller group preferring 1, Only a small number see childlessness, or large families of four or more children, as ideal. This has been relatively stable for decades, despite large changes in education, labour markets and gender roles. In Australia, Europe and North America, the modal response is still two, with a minority favouring one or three, and very few choosing zero as an ideal. However, there has been a gradual decline in the mean ideal family size over time, with more women reporting an ideal size of one or zero.

Next, consider intentions When young women are asked how many children they intend (or expect) to have, the number is consistently lower than the ideal, typically by about 0.2–0.5 children on average, and the gap is larger for the youngest cohorts. That is, as ideal family size has declined, expected family size has declined slightly faster. Most importantly it has been below replacement, at least since the 1990s. Expectations are also more sensitive to circumstances. They fall when housing costs rise, when career paths become more uncertain, and when partnership formation is delayed. In other words, expectations embed a constraint set: they are a forecast conditional on anticipated economic and social conditions.

Two further patterns are worth noting. First, the gap between ideal and expected fertility is larger for more educated young women, reflecting steeper career–family trade-offs and later partnering. Second, the share of young women expecting to remain childless has risen, even though very few state childlessness as an ideal.

Finally, actual fertility. This is where the big drops have shown up. Completed fertility for recent cohorts in most OECD countries is now around 1.5–1.7 children per woman, and period TFRs are often lower still, especially after the post-GFC and pandemic shocks. Australia has moved from around replacement (near 2) in the late 2000s to roughly 1.6 or below in recent years. For women currently in their twenties, completed fertility will almost certainly end up below both their stated ideals and their early expectations, unless there is a substantial reversal of current trends. For a while it seemed as if births were merely being postponed, but this does not seem to be be the case any more.

In short, when young women are asked how many babies they want, they still mostly say two. When asked what they expect, they say something less. And what actually happens is less again. For policy, the distinction matters. If the objective were to raise fertility, measures that relax constraints—housing affordability, childcare, predictable career paths, and support for combining work and parenting—are the natural levers.

Changing society to make it more child-friendly is difficult but feasible. Given the massive monetary and labour cost of raising children, no subsidy is going to have a significant effect on ideal or planned numbers. But the removal of constraints like the absence of childcare can reduce the gap between palnned and actual births.

Other constraints are harder to fix. Most importantly, plans for having children commonly anticipate a stable life partnership, which cannot be guaranteed. The same is true of fertility problems. Finally, for some parents, the experience of having a first child is traumatic as a result of health problems, postpartum depression or the failure of the transformative experience of parenthood to offset the loss of freedom it entails. The result, often, is a decision to stop at oen

With better institutions and economic policy, it might be psssible to reverse the increase in the gap between intentions and outcomes that has occurred this century. That might raise births by between 0.2 to 0.3 children per woman. That’s not enough to push fertility above replacement. But it would rule out the collapse scenario we see in places like South Korea, where the combination of patriarchal norms and a modern economy makes childbearing an unappealing choice for most young women.

A Very “Engaging” Charcuterie Board

2026-Apr-13, Monday 23:21
[syndicated profile] scalziwhatever_feed

Posted by Athena Scalzi

Hey, everyone! I was going to continue to post about my adventures in Colorado, but I decided a detour was in order today to show y’all this spread I did last night for my friend’s engagement party. Feast your eyes on my (mainly Aldi and partially Kroger) spread of goods for about fifty people to snack on:

A large spread of various meats and cheeses, as well as jams, olives, and nuts, all laid out on butcher paper. There's large piles of cubed and crumbled cheeses, a river of prosciutto, folded salamis, wheels of brie, a log of goat cheese, lots of good stuff!

So, while this isn’t everything I put out, this is the main event. I was very nervous to do a spread for so many people, as normally I deal in much smaller groups. Usually my boards are usually made for about ten people. I know you’re probably thinking, there’s no way that spread survived fifty people. And you’d be right! After the first wave of snackers, I snuck in to refill everything, and continued to refill as was necessary to keep it looking full and making sure everyone got a bite of what they wanted.

I was informed ahead of time that there were no known allergies amongst the entire group (except, of course, my bestie having a gluten intolerance). With that knowledge in mind, let’s look at what we got!

We’ve got double cream brie, dill Havarti, smoked gouda, cranberry cheddar, espresso martini soaked cheddar, pimento cheese dip, honey goat cheese, and a garlic and herbs Boursin. For the meats I did a very simple prosciutto and salami. I also brought a garlic summer sausage but I couldn’t really make it work in my presentation so I gave up on it and just went with the two meats, which honestly who needs more meat than just prosciutto and salami? Those are my two favorites, anyway.

Accoutrements include fig jam, a berry jalapeno jam, Stonewall Kitchen’s Maine Maple Champagne Mustard, quince paste, a pear, cardamom, and pistachio jam, blackcurrant mustard, Truff hot sauce, and an orange whiskey jam. There’s also stuffed peppers and herby olives, dates, salted caramel black truffle peanuts, rosemary Marcona almonds, pistachios, hot honey cashews, and chocolate covered pomegranate seeds. Finally, front and center is Zeroe Caviar’s vegan caviar made from seaweed. I’ve never put it on a board before, but I figured caviar was needed at an engagement party.

As you can tell from the grapes all the way on the right, there’s more to see than this picture lets on. I just did some strawberries, blackberries, and grapes with fruit fluff, and then pinwheel striped and sliced some mini cucumbers and set those out with carrots and celery alongside tzatziki and feta dip, plus a creamy ranch dip. There was also a tray of various cookies like Walker’s shortbread, Pirouette cookies, and some strawberry and creme covered pretzels. Plus blue corn tortilla chips and salsa.

Here’s a different angle so hopefully you can somewhat see some other items:

The spread from a different angle, now showing the fruit and veggies at the other end.

At the end you can see the fruit fluff and fruit, and the veggies and dips further down. And look, someone brought hummus! How thoughtful. Luckily, I had pita chips to go with it. I also set out some cranberry crisps, rosemary flatbread crackers, and some other entertainment crackers but nothing really of note. I kept my friend’s gluten-free crackers behind the counter for her, as well as her gluten-free cookies.

So, there you have it, a spread from yours truly for my bestie’s engagement party. I am so excited for her, her fiancé, and to be in her wedding. She means the world to me and I was happy to feed those closest to her.

Which cheese sounds the best to you? Would you try the vegan caviar? Let me kn0w in the comments, and have a great day!

-AMS

[syndicated profile] scalziwhatever_feed

Posted by John Scalzi

The book (shown here in its “bedazzled” version sitting on a bookshelf next to John Harris’ art book, and a painting of Smudge) is a finalist in the category of Best Science Fiction Novel, along with these other worthy finalists (list scrounged from the Locus Magazine web site):

What excellent company to be in.

The full list of Locus Award finalist for this year can be found here. Congratulations to everyone! It is an honor to be in this peer group with you.

— JS

UFO Guy Bob Lazar’s Lifetime of Cons

2026-Apr-13, Monday 14:59
[syndicated profile] skepchick_feed

Posted by Rebecca Watson

This post contains a video, which you can also view here. To support more videos like this, head to patreon.com/rebecca! Transcript: If you’re a space fan, you know that the most exciting astronomical news last week was NOT the diverse team of astronauts working together to fly around the moon in an inspiring display of …

Good news from Hungary

2026-Apr-13, Monday 03:45
[syndicated profile] crooked_timber_feed

Posted by John Q

The news from Hungary’s election is so good that I need to write about it, even if not all the implications are clear yet, and even in a disorganised and way, repeating lots of what others are saying.

Although the polls predicted Orban’s defeat, nothing I read foreshadowed the scale of the victory – a two-thirds majority which will allow the reversal of all of Orban’s constitutional changes. Some credit for this must go to JD Vance. The spectacle of a US vice-president appearing in Europe to complain about foreign influence must have been too absurd for voters to accept. Putin’s unsubtle interference allowed Peter Magyar to remind Hungarians of Russia’s previous crimes against Hungary.

Within Europe, the effect will be to isolate Putin’s last supporter in the EU, Slovakian PM Fico. It should now be possible to get rid of the veto power exercised so balefully by Orban, with Fico’s support, and to constrain financial aid to Fico’s government. That will enable an acceleration of Ukraine’s admission along with Moldova, while Serbia (still aligned with Russia) can return to the back of the queue.

More generally, it’s a huge blow to European Trumpism, already on the ropes after Trump’s repeated attacks on putative allies. Trump-Orban supporters like Farage in UK and AfD in Germany are trying to back away from their public statements of support, but we have rhetorical receipts. Conversely, those advocating a clean break with Trump, like Sanchez in Spain have ben strengthened.

Less directly, the result should accelerate Britain’s return to the EU. Brexit and Orbanism were parallel projects, and both have failed miserably in delivering the prosperity they promised. Moreover the result has confirmed the toxicity of Trumpism, even in one of Europe’s most conservative countries. Starmer has taken the first steps, finally admitting that Brexit was a disaster. Hopefully he will be gone soon, and his successor will be free to start the serious work of returning at least to the single market and something close to free movement.

Intellectually and financially, this is a disaster for the “post-liberal” far right, of which Vance has been the most prominent representative.

Under Orban, Hungary represented a beacon of Christian (more specifically Catholic) nationalism of the kind put forward by post-liberals like Patrick Deneen and Adrian Vermeule. The voters’ rejection of the Orban government will be followed by thoroughgoing exposure of the corruption of his regime.

Orban was also a source of lavish grants and speaking gigs, ultimately paid for by long-suffering EU taxpayers. That’s all over now. Those who have taken those gigs will come under a lot more scrutiny. In Australia they include Tony Abbott, Alexander Downer, Brian Loughnane (former Liberal national director), Greg Sheridan and many less prominent but highly influential figures.

Most important, but less clear, are the implications for Trumpism in the US. The result is a double-edged sword. By showing that even an entrenched regime like Orban’s can be defeated in a democratic election, it gives us hope. But the lesson for the Trumpists is that democracy must be suppressed as soon as possible. An Orban-scale defeat in the 2026 midterms would make it very difficult to steal the presidency in 2028. Looking at the polls that’s quite likely unless the 2026 elections are suppressed, as Trump has previously suggested.

Doubtless there will be disappointments in the future. But, for the moment hope is in the ascendant.

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Mat Bowles

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