I’m really bad at remembering to update this blog (exhibit A: the aesthetic of this blog hasn’t changed since I last changed it freshman year of college [2014!!!])
So, that aside, just wanted to leave the fact I was born in ‘96 here so those of you who wanna know my age can do the math so I don’t have to remember to update this on my birthday 😅
Very Silly Concept: a show called “Accessibility Nightmares” but it’s structured exactly like Kitchen Nightmares. An accessibility specialist goes to different establishments and helps them make their businesses more accessible.
The accessibility specialist asks why the door at the top of the small set of stairs has a wheelchair symbol on it. The owner replies that’s the accessible bathroom. The camera zooms in on the specialist as they process this information.
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A customer with a service dog comes in to a restaurant. The hostess tells them they don’t allow dogs. The accessibly specialist looks over at the hostess like
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And there are web accessibility episodes too. The accessibility specialist stares at the white text on the light pink background of the home page like
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The specialist asks why not a single product picture has alt text, and the business owner says “Well I mean, it’s makeup, why would a blind person be shopping for makeup?” The specialist just
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The specialist asks the web designer how a screen reader user is supposed to complete the captcha portion of the password reset process when there is no audio alternative. The designer admits they don’t know.
this, but only if we get to yell at them like Gordon does.
Oh, 100%. In my head the accessibility specialist is actually still just inexplicably Gordon Ramsay. I was having a delightful time the other day imagining “your videos have auto-generated captions?” being said in the exact same way Gordon says “you’re serving them frozen fish???”
But having the specialist be Ramsay-esque would be crucial, I think. On all accounts; just as Gordon is always patient and polite with the waiters and waitresses, the specialist would be patient and polite with the store staff answering questions about the accessibility options they do not control. But on the flip side, if the person who is in charge is being unnecessarily difficult or just straight up ableist, there is likely to be some yelling and dramatic background music involved.
Love bombing is not a euphemism for “too much affection too soon,” or “high desire for contact.”
“Love bombing” is a term originally used in the context of cults to describe a deliberate and coordinated recruitment method that involved feigning friendship and interest in a potential recruit, via flattery, flirtation, physical affection, and very directed positive attention to everything the recruit says in order to lure them into the cult.
Since cults and abusive relationships operate in similar ways and use similar tactics, love bombing in an interpersonal relationship looks like manufacturing closeness in order to trap someone into a relationship in which the abuser has all the control.
And I know these days there’s a million bullshit junky articles out there that make you think this is a symptom of cluster b personality disorders, but there is no way for you to be love bombing somebody without realizing it.
If you are an affectionate person and the level of affection and attention you give makes someone uncomfortable, you are not “accidentally” abusing them.
If you are uncomfortable with the level of affection and attention someone is paying you, they are not de facto abusing you.
Love bombing is about using someone’s desire for human connection to fast track them into a situation you control that they will feel disinclined to leave.
After shoving Hansel in the oven, the witch turns to Gretel - who is currently fending the witch off with a gingerbread chair - and says:
“I can’t believe you thought a trail of breadcrumbs would save you. I mean, honestly, this is a forest! It’s full of animals. Honestly, the very idea that a dumb shit like you thought you could get the better of me is absurd.”
Gretel hits her in the face with said chair. To be fair to the witch, she takes the chairshot like a champ.
“Ow!”
“Did you know,” says Gretel, “that crows are capable of facial recognition?”
“Eh?” Says the witch, clambering to her feet and pulling a candy cane sledgehammer off the wall. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Not only that,” Gretel continues, “but they can remember both friends and enemies. And they’ll often follow people they remember as friends.”
The two fence with their sugared weapons for a moment, before the witch knocks the chair out of Gretel’s hands.
“Enough with the bird facts! Honestly, this whole attempted escape has been utter clownshoes. Get in the fucking oven!”
She seizes Gretel by the collar. Gretel immediately sandbags, letting her whole body go limp. This eminently practical defense forces the witch to try and deadlift her. Which is hard, as the witch often skips leg day.
“For example,” Gretel says, as the witch struggles and grunts, “if you feed crows a lot of breadcrumbs, they’ll probably start to see you as a friend and follow you in the hope of more food.”
The witch stops. Outside, she hears the thunder of wings.
“They’ll even bring you shiny things they find as presents!” Says Gretel, as a corner of the gingerbread ceiling is suddenly cut away by a large crow with a knife in its mouth.
“Oh shitballs.” Says the witch, as the crows descend. “I hope you know this is a great unkindness.”
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