ngansuril

  It is a rainy Tuesday morning. A morning of the rains, this Tuesday is. It is Tuesday, and it is raining. It is also in the morning. It has been raining for 18 years, and I am 18 years old. Apparently, there was once something called ‘the sun’, which would blast the planet with its radiation for somewhere between 8 and 20 hours a day, depending on the time of year. Now, it is obscured by usufructuary clouds, which galvanise loquaciously the arteries of the supine Firmament, that terrible petroleum devil which we love so dearly. O’, how I long for that tragic air! The clock strikes nine, signalling campanically with sporadic integuments that the time has come for me to purchase a book. On avian heels I stalk these diluvial streets, my mind aflutter with visions of Morpheus: the skies graciously parting to reveal those pages, long which I have sought, that might hide within them some phantasm, some memory, some Oriental wagon of verity and dendricity, a Fifth Humour t...

 It is unquestionable that the nation-states of the world are forcing trans women into conditions which are not conducive to life. I have explained this now in thousands of words across several works. Trans women cannot engage with public life; trans women cannot access employment; trans women cannot access surgery; trans girls cannot access female puberties. These truths are painful to know; so painful, in fact, that the more fortunate members of the trans community are unable to accept them. The pain of transfeminine deprivation is instead chalked up to matters of personal responsibility: deprived trans women are not working hard enough; deprived trans women have made too many mistakes in life; deprived trans women are not experiencing legitimate pain that can be resolved with medical treatment; deprived trans women are hysterical; deprived trans women should stop talking about their deprivation. There is another fact that, to me, seems beyond question: it will get better for us....

An oftentimes overlooked avenue for exploration in speculative fiction is gastronomy, which is surprising given that food is not only a human necessity, but also something that we greatly enjoy.   Two creative works in particular spring to my mind when I think of fun fantasy foods: Star Wars and Star Trek. The former has a penchance for blue food, including blue milk and blue noodles (bludles? bloodles?); the latter particularly shows us various examples of alien booze.   One thing that often isn't considered in these works (to my knowledge) is how our bodies might react to alien cuisine. I think this is a shame, because there are lots of strange things that biology can do which are safe to one organism, but dangerous to another.   Chirality in chemistry is one such way that alien food might be dangerous to humans. Just as we have left and right hands, molecules can also be geometrically oriented as right-handed or left-handed. This matters because it changes the way thes...

  A Right to Beauty?  Vulgar social constructivism would seem to view the human animal and the human culture as things which exist independent of each other. I contest instead that human culture is an emergent property of the human animal, and this is the foundation of my understanding of the world. Popular social constructivism also views the individual as an object wholly separate from culture. The vulgar liberal understanding of nature insists that individuals can frictionlessly act in ways which contradict social norms. This is sometimes further applied as an obligation to be unfashionable—especially to trans women, and especially to the so-called ‘bricks’ or ‘hons’. Ugly women on the whole are, in fact, expected to put up with being unfashionable in the name of social progress. It is considered regressive for a woman to get breast implants, even if it makes her very happy. In recent years, I have observed many people voicing their opinions on social media th...

This is a fictionalised account of the founding of the Samri priesthood & the codification of the 1200 Prophecies ( tisuva-tseho kelnahane , literally 'twenty-sixty foresayings'). We will begin with the text in Niváki, followed by a side-by-side comparison with a grammatical gloss & literal translation with preserved syntax, then a proper English translation, and finally an explanation & commentary.

  I can see that my 'Class Hatred' essay has been receiving some attention. I am heartened by the largely positive response to my work on xitter, and I feel encouraged to keep writing. I write mostly for myself; as I have stated previously, I am passively suicidal. Death hangs over me at all times, and I sometimes wonder if I will be strong enough to keep on living. Leaving my work up on here (and on physical paper) strengthens my sense of embodiment, which is something that male puberty has largely deprived me of. Writing makes my existence feel less ephemeral. Even if I don't make it, I know that I won't be forgotten. Seeing the reactions on xitter, I wanted to clarify specifically what I think people ought to take away from my essay. I went to great lengths to make my writing airtight, addressing every possible counter-argument to make uncharitable rebuttals difficult. The fact that I have not received any criticism founded on close reading (i.e. direct quotation of ...