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Friday, April 17th, 2026 06:00 pm
A collage-like image of Benedict sitting cross-legged over a pink background of a Chinese city, with a pride-flag colored halo. Text reads “Benedict Cumberbatch is a Gay Erotic God in China”.ALT

“Why is the Chinese Internet obsessed with writing gay Sherlock Holmes fanfiction?” is what Liz Carter was wondering as they wrote the article titled “Benedict Cumberbatch Is a Gay Erotic God in China”.

The article was published in November 2013 on ForeignPolicy.com and pondered on the love the Chinese fans have for the Sherlock series and Benedict Cumberbatch.

Cumberbatch is cited as the reason a new wave of Chinese viewers have turned to British television, according to the news site Caijing, calling it “the Sherlock effect”.

On the Internet forum devoted to the star, called Baidu Curly Fu Bar, he is viewed in part as an erotic god. The nickname “Curly Fu” is used to describe Cumberbatch, because of his curly hair and ‘Fu’ being a shortened transliteration of ‘Holmes’.

He is often depicted in slash fiction featuring his version of Sherlock Holmes and Martin Freeman’s Watson.

Head on over to Fanlore to learn more about the article and the Chinese view on Cumberbatch.

——

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Friday, April 17th, 2026 02:35 pm
Today is mostly cloudy and hot. It's 83°F already. :/

We went out to Market on the Prairie at the fairgrounds. This was mostly flea market stuff and a few crafters. I picked up a couple of hand-painted bookmarks and three plant stands. \o/

We also stopped at Whiteside Gardens for the last day of their Spring Spectacular. They had a craft table and a bubble station out. :D I picked up a celandine poppy and Doug got a yellow-green hosta.

The first field is sprouting with corn, which is odd because corn is a warm-season crop that won't sprout well in cold weather. Soybeans are usually sown first. The only thing I can think of is that, if someone's planting by measuring soil temperature, things are really fucked up for the soil to be corn-warm in mid-April.

I fed the birds. I've seen a few house finches.

I put out water for the birds.

EDIT 4/17/26 -- I planted the new hosta with others in the forest garden.

I also moved a couple of indoor flats outside to get some sun, and uncovered the mixed plants in the water jug greenhouses.

EDIT 4/17/26 -- I planted the celandine poppy in the new shade garden at the east end of the savanna.

I've seen a male cardinal and a fox squirrel with nipples. I've seen a male cardinal and a fox squirrel with nipples. I heard a bluejay screaming but didn't see it.









.
Friday, April 17th, 2026 12:33 pm
One: For reasons I may (or may not) go into in my "Disability Discussion" access filter, I was recently handed a pamphlet from my city's Adult Protective Services. which includes the following definition:
Self-Neglect: Self-Neglect is when an adult is unable to meet their own essential physical, psychological, or social needs, which threatens their safety and well-being.
Oh. So you mean every single human being who has ever lived on this planet, who will ever live on this planet, or who may, one day in the far future, live on other planets?

2: Speaking of which, I have very mixed feelings about the recent Artemis 2 Moon Mission. On the one hand, I am grateful that human beings are willing to take the risks to explore beyond ever-expanding horizons, and show us portraits of Home that prove we really are in this together. On the other hand, I hate how this stinks of colonialism and capitalist exploitation. On the one hand, we dream of finding life on Mars (even simple, unicellular, life); on the other hand, if we follow our Elon Musk's other dream of building a colony on Mars, our very presence could cause the extinction of whatever life is there.

Three: Speaking of which (again), I think this is my favorite photo taken by someone on the Artemis crew. That faint blue crescent is us - all of us (who each need help meeting our physical, psychological, and social needs).

IV: I've been watching a lot of YouTube. One of my favorite channels is PattyCake Productions. Located in Orlando. Florida, their bread and butter is fully cinematic parodies of Disney fairy tale classics, told from the P.O.V. of side characters and villains. All their songs and music are originals. This is their latest. With properly human-edited closed captions (the [cc] button is in the upper right):



Five: I've been getting the itch to write prose fiction again. But the last few years have been (barely acknowledged by me) emotionally and cognitively draining, and I'm having trouble getting over the hump of inertia.
Thursday, April 16th, 2026 04:29 pm
But I don't know if I'll actually follow through. You see, for the past week and a bit, no matter what tarot or oracle deck I pull a card from, they all have the same essential message: REST, GODDAMMIT. You know, that thing I'm terrible at, even tho' I encourage other people to do it. 

---

I wish the Stroppy One was more interested in wandering through thrift stores and antique malls. I always explain to him that it's not about buying things, it's about window shopping and finding really weird things. But no, he's not interested. Drat. (Tho' I do need to look into taking the occasional Tuesday or Tuesday early evening off, because that's the day of "senior discount" at the local Discovery Shop and Value Village, and hell yes I want to take advantage of that.   
Friday, April 17th, 2026 10:05 am


One day every adult on Earth gets a box that contains a string that measures out the length of their life.

This premise seems designed in a lab to create a book to be read for book clubs, where everyone gets to discuss whether or not they'd open their box and how they'd react to a long or short string. It worked, too. And it is absolutely about the premise. Unfortunately, the book is bad: flat, dull, sappy, American in the worst possible way, and emotionally manipulative.

It follows multiple characters, all American, most New Yorkers, and all middle or upper class. Some get long strings. Some get short strings. The ones with short strings agonize over their short strings. The ones with long strings who are in relationships with people with short strings agonize over that.

One of them is black, a fact mentioned exactly once in the entire book, and one has a Hispanic name. One set is an old right-wing politician and his wife. But all of them have identical-sounding narrative voices. Other than the Hispanic-named dude, who is mostly concerned about job discrimination, and the politician, who just wants to exploit the issue, everyone is worried about having a relationship and children with someone who will die young/worried that they'll get dumped and not be able to have children because they'll die young.

Ultimately, isn't everything really about baaaaaabies? Shouldn't everyone have baaaaaaabies no matter what?

The book is so bland and flat. The strings are a metaphor for discrimination, as short stringers are discriminated against. It explores some other social issues, all extremely American like health insurance discrimination and mass shootings, but only peeks outside America for brief and stereotypical moments: North Korea mandates not opening the boxes, China mandates opening them, and in Italy hardly anyone opens their box because they already know what really matters: family. BARF FOREVER.

It was obvious going in that the origin of the boxes would never be explained, but no one even seemed curious about that. Once all adults have received them, they appear on your doorstep the night you turn 22. Video of this is fuzzy. No one parks themselves on the doorstep to see if they teleport in or what. No one has a paradigm-upending crisis over this absolute proof of God/aliens/time travel/magic/etc that the boxes represent. No one comes up with inventive ways to take advantage of the situation a la Death Note. No one is concerned that this proves predestination. No one wonders why they appeared now and what the motive of whoever put them there is.

The point that life is precious regardless of length is hammered in with a thousand sledgehammers, to the point where it felt like a bad self-help book in the form of a novel. The romances are flat and sappy. In the truly vomitous climax, someone pedals around on a bicycle with the stereo playing "Que Sera Sera" and it quotes the entire song.

It's only April but this will be hard to top as the worst book I read all year.
Friday, April 17th, 2026 03:49 pm

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

Friday, April 17th, 2026 04:05 pm

(Reporting in vaxx-boosted, by the way.)

Have been noting hither and yon stuff about blokes 'looksmaxxing' and 'mogging' (which apparently does not involve cats? is there some reference to tomcats facing off and fluffing out their fur? probably not. Who knows.)

This is yet another of those things That Blokez Do apparently in order to attract the opposite sex and I do not think it is because I am Old, and my tastes were formed in A Different Day, that I feel that there is a significant Failure To Do The Research about What Actually Pulls The Chixx.

Not that this is exactly a new phenomenon, when I was reviewing those books on yoof culture in the 60s/early 70s, I was thinking that various of the paths being pursued by (presumably) cis het men, because Teh Gayz were in separate chapters, did not seem to me necessarily terribly productive - maybe being a great dancer, but not if it was all about him showing off moves, ditto the being A Mod Face.

And after all the idea that women only go for men who look a certain way is to laugh at, cites yet again the instance of The Late Rock Star Historian, who was a scruff who was not perhaps quite at the John Wilkes level of having serious disadvantages in the way of appearance to overcome but was - well, I suppose it depends on the artist you're thinking of and there were painters who would have turned out an excellent oil-painting of him but was hardly of male-model looks. But was if not of universal appeal, considerably popular with the opposite sex.

We are frankly not surprised at reports that young women are eschewing the dating game, because what it turns up is very likely young men blatting on about their self-maintenance regime and probably trying to shill for supplements and peptides.

Am also given to wonder whether the people who follow these creatures are all acolytes of their maxxingmessage, or whether at least some % are treating them as the modern equivalent of the old-style freakshow. (Though for all I know, in the darker reaches of the internet you can find videos of men biting the heads off chickens and so on.)

While I was thinking that it would be preferable for them to contemplate upon the natural world and build bowers for, or offer particularly attractive stones to, the objects of their interest, I also became cynical as to whether female bower birds and penguins are quite so appreciative of these efforts as naturalists would have us suppose. ('Him and his bloody bowers' - 'Not another pebble')

Friday, April 17th, 2026 07:49 am
copra (KOP-ruh, KOH-pruh) - n., the dried white flesh of the coconut, from which coconut oil is expressed.


And not, as I somehow had the impression, the dried fibrous husk of a coconut -- no idea where I got that. We got the word in the 1580s from Portuguese, which got it from a Tamil language, most likely Malayalam koppara but possibly Tamil kopparai, which is cognate with Sanskrit kūrpasa, coconut (and its modern descendants such as Hindi khopā), but whether it went Dravidian > Sanskrit or Sanskrit > Dravidian, I can't tell from a brief search.


And that's all the words encountered in Chalet School books I currently have on hand -- back next week with words just as random but more randomly sourced.

---L.
Friday, April 17th, 2026 10:09 am
We have 5 remaining initial pinch hits for Seasons of Drabbles, an exchange for the creation of drabbles and drabble variants. The minimum is 100 words.

PH 2 - Yu-Gi-Oh! GX, Metal Fight Beyblade | Beyblade Metal Saga, Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's, ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

PH 4 - Into the Woods - Sondheim/Lapine, The Wheel of Time (TV), Fate: The Winx Saga (TV)

PH 8 - Look Outside (Video Game), There is No Antimemetics Division - qntm, 어쩌면 해피엔딩 - Aronson/박 | Maybe Happy Ending - Aronson/Park

PH 9 - Fireworks (1947)/Succession (TV 2018), O Fantasma (2000), O Fantasma (2000)/Succession (TV 2018), The Sergeant (1968), Succession (TV 2018)

PH 12 - Emergency! (TV 1972), Magic School Bus & Magic School Bus Rides Again (Cartoons 1994-2018), Sesame Street (US TV), The Love Boat (TV 1977), It Takes a Thief (TV 1968)

Event link: Dreamwidth | AO3 Collection

Due date: Saturday, April 25 @ 11:59pm Eastern Daylight time (Countdown).

Pinch hit link: Please view the details and claim it at this post.