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As salt sets its seal on your silky skin
I have just been informed that Christopher Nolan, not content to have performed the same indispensable service for the concept of nuclear physics, is now generating discourse about the Odyssey, which I am sure will go over in a respectful and informed fashion on our current internet where every other bright spark has some expert opinion unsullied by such petty considerations as reasonably accurate data that wasn't sicked back up to them by unexamined reception or extractive AI. My contribution to this charybditic scrum is that the Odyssey has too many female characters for me to trust him with it, even before we get to more general reservations about the alienness of the ancient world and its gods who are not reducible to one-stop abstractions or human psychologies writ sky-size. I return to lying on a couch, this time with strange tales of the sea.
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I did not bring you this news
I thought
You see
You might make pained sounds
But if things are going to be charybditic
Can I have a turn being Scylla
You see
I didn't get a lot of dinner
And sailors at the time were mostly cis men
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Can I have a turn being Scylla
Seals can have little a swift ship, as a treat.
(I suspect the ratios of sailors were not, in fact, all that different in the ancient world.)
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cackles
delights in this discussion A kind person made sure I knew about this and I am still gathering strength to thank her rather than telling her what I actually think.
Maybe a giant wave will disrupt the first and only day's filming.
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Come on, Amphitrite.
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--gorgeous phrase that I will treasure forever