Reward yourself for finding mistakes that you’ve made.
1) You found it rather than letting the mistake go out or worse, grow and/or have severe repercussions.
2) You won’t be adverse to finding future mistakes (Oh noes! I made an oops! Bad me!) and thus will be more likely to notice them and [repeat #1].
If you treat finding your mistakes as a good thing, you won’t be afraid of them. Look at how fucked up things get in business or politics because people don’t know how to say “I made a mistake” and move on to correct it. This is not akin to the “My Bad!” meme in which someone glosses over their mistake and thereafter ignores it. It’s owning up to it. Too often we don’t want to find - or admit - our mistakes, so we make it hard to find them in any work from school to business.
On a related note, “I don’t know” is also not a bad thing. It is not the same thing as making a mistake, and actually, you’re pretty stupid if you can’t say it. No one knows everything; that’s why we pursue goals, investigate, research and learn in life - because we don’t know, but we want to. Or need to. Or someone else does, so we will research it for them because we want to help or because we are curious, too.
And when did “help” become a bad word? “I don’t want/need your help!” “I’m not helping them, let them do it themselves!” “They don’t really need help, they’re just whining!” I try to be self-sufficient, but I know that I can’t move a 65” TV up stairs by myself. I also don’t have all the answers, so I look to other people for assistance. If I have information or the ability to aid someone, I’m happy to do it.
And I make tons of mistakes. Brain farts, typos, misinterpretations and basic inabilities. I would rather find them and embarrass myself to myself than to let the mistake go out and embarrass myself publicly - or worse, let someone down or cause a problem elsewhere.
[with thanks to Julia Galef, the president of the Center for Applied Rationality, (CFAR), for the initial line - Skepticality, 8 October 2013]
Anonymous asked: Hey Gail, OSC is right. One day soon America is going to wake up and that will be very bad news for followers of the perversion you love so much. You might regret your part in spreading the corruption.
Black Canary says go fuck yourself.
So do I.
Thorne Smith died in 1934, but his final (unfinished) book saw publication in 1941, completed by Norman Matson. The Passionate Witch has been traced to various modern interpretations of the “sexy witch” right up through the ’60s sitcom Bewitched, starring Elizabeth Montgomery.
Criterion just released a beautifully remastered edition of I Married a Witch, the 1942 film based on the Smith/Matson ribald novel, which starred Veronica Lake and Fredric March, with Susan Hayward and Robert Benchley.
The bridegroom held his chin up, and his large brown eyes rolled.
”The old boy,” said Mr. Simpson, who was there, “looks like he’s about to canter off with a loud neigh.”
This was heard by Sara, Mr. Wooly’s fifteen-year-old daughter, a slender, personable creature and no fool.
”She’d hop on and ride him if she did,” Sara whispered, “Holding on with all her claws.”
”But isn’t she pretty?” whispered a boy cousin.
”Poor Pop,” sighed Sara.
”About as vegetarian,” said this boy cousin, “as a weasel, though.”
”Pop goes for weasel,” Sara agreed.
[trigger warning: rape & 9/11]
I’ve been around drunk women many times. High school, college, corporate events, general gatherings. In quite a few of those instances I was drunk, too.
You know what?
I’ve never raped anyone. Nor, to my knowledge, was anyone raped in any of these instances. Don’t think it was even attempted.
Rapists are to blame for raping. Not the alcohol a girl has consumed, not the clothes a woman wears, not the amount of skin she has uncovered, not flirtations which may have occurred.
Blaming the victim of rape for their own abuse is like blaming the employees of the World Trade Center for the attack on 9/11/2001.
Were they “just asking for it?” They were complicit in the American economy. There had been previous attacks on the Trade Center, they knew what could happen but they went to work there anyway!
Dear Prudence: get your fucking head out of your tight ass, you stupid crotchwad.