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NME (which seems have a much better of understanding on K-pop than Rolling Stone) has released a list of the [top 25 K-pop songs of 2025]! I scrolled to it, sure that I would have forgotten a lot of songs from earlier in the year, and was pleasantly surprised to see there were some I hadn't heard before, so it was like an early birthday present from NME!
I was also looking to see if NMIXX made the list — I've loved their new songs, and I was hoping that other people appreciated them. I was happy to see NMIXX's "High Horse" ranked #7 — four places higher than Blackpink's "Jump" (which I thought was highly overrated and wouldn't have ranked so high had it been by someone other than Blackpink). I then kept scrolling and was pleased and surprised to see H1-Key's "Summer Was You" ranked #6. Then I kept scrolling and was absolutely gobsmacked to see Huntr/x's "Golden" ranked #2 — I expected it to take the top spot, and was extremely surprised to find it in #2! So what was #1? I had absolutely no idea. I scrolled and was surprised and overjoyed to find NMIXX's "Spinnin' on It" at #1!
Reading. ( Scalzi, Bourke, Barber + Bayley, Boddice, Cowart )
Writing. I have a document that contains the outline and extensive transcribed quotations for the Descartes apologia! ... it's already over 5000 words long! And that's before I even get into the argument about Against New Dualism! I think. It is going to wind up needing to be split into two essays. One of which is the quotations about How People Summarise Descartes + What Descartes Actually Said, and the second of which will then be the polemic about how you don't get to rail against mind-body dualism if you then replicate it unfailingly with commitment to the absolute separation of central sensitisation and peripheral nociception. With the former as non-essential background reading for the latter...
Watching. Encanto, courtesy of The Child. I had retained approximately none of the plot from the Encanto-flavoured Baby Yoga we did together recently, happily, and also I Did A Cry. (I am also genuinely impressed that "fish is in terrible bowl" was an indication of where things were going...)
Listening. The Instructions For Getting To The Child, while cycling, via the bone-conduction headphones. V pleased.
Playing. The Little Orchard avec Child! Using some definite House Rules. Also being Someone With Long Arms for various self-directed play. I continue to be told Many Numberblocks Facts. :)
Eating. I put in an order with Cocoa Loco, maker of My Favourite Chocolate For A While Now, for the purposes of A Convenient Present; I also acquired, because Why Not, a single brownie portion and the cocoa nibs & hazelnut bar. I'm not sure I think the cocoa nibs particularly enhance the experience but I do like the Good Dark Chocolate With Hazelnuts of it all; I think I prefer My Default Brownie Recipe to their brownie BUT I also think that having a bag-safe well-wrappped calorie-dense food was extremely valuable in the context of some of this week's more questionable adventures, and I did enjoy it a great deal while I was, you know, inhaling it.
Exploring. BIG HECKIN BIKE RIDE. Many fewer birds along the canal than last time I did that route (on an unseasonably warm day in April); extremely excited to confirm that Walthamstow Wetlands is Within Scope for a trip At Some Point, though possibly not until it's warmer again.
And then today I learned of the existence of and attended an event at the London LGBTQ+ Community Centre, just across the bridge from Blackfriars, which they blurb as "The London LGBTQ+ Community Centre is a sober, intersectional community centre and café where all LGBTQ+ people are welcome, supported, can build connections and can flourish." They have comfy sofas and a permanent clothes swap and a wee library and a very large bookshelf full of boardgames, and a whole bunch of structured social groups as well as walk-ins. I am charmed, I am pleased with my purchases (including MORE BULLSHIT CERAMICS), and I... am contemplating maybe actually getting myself out to some more of their events, not just when I have a friend visiting from abroad who suggested Attending A Market.
On my way out the door to a vigil for last night's mass casualty incident; today is also the thirteenth anniversary of the Sandy Hook shooting, and there was an antisemitic mass shooting in Bondi Beach, Australia yesterday.
I do not know how I am going to get through this vigil and come home and light my chanukiyah, with its engraving, More life. The great work begins.
Almost nothing has happened today, but that gives me a chance to talk about everything else that happened yesterday, hopefully before I forget.
I woke up and actually managed to get the train and tram to lift club. The last couple times I'd tried to make it there on public transport hadn't worked out, so it was nice to be able to make it. Especially because it's the last one of the year! At the end I gave George a hug that he said was so good it changed his life. "I'm a very enthusiastic hugger!" he said. "People aren't usually able to meet my energy!" But I guess I did. I love George, even if he does put me on a pedestal a little bit sometimes.
I got a lift home, with had the usual good chats with my pal D. I went right to Teddy's house to walk him, because our usual evening-walk had been swapped to morning walk this once. So this was not only the day that his human, Graham, was having his knee operation, he was having it as we were walking! I let Teddy lead me around the neighborhood for as long as I could but I had a big list of things to do so had to drag him home eventually. I had a good catch-up with Sylvia -- her sister was there, who is so effusive about how much of a help my household has been, aww -- but did have to scurry home so I could have a shower and be on to the next thing.
The next thing was D and I going most of the way to Liverpool to help a relative of V's who's cleaning out his mum's house. We've done this a few times and it's nearly done now. He'd saved me some apple-shaped dishes that I'd coveted the first time but left there; when I was looking through photos of the year for something parent-suitable I saw the photo of these dishes that I'd sent V in order to squee about them, and I was really sad that I hadn't taken them after all. I didn't expect them to have been put to one side for me but since they were I figured it was a sign and eagerly brought them home. They were greeted when I got here by
angelofthenorth who recognized them immediately and has a couple herself. It was nice to feel so validated in that decision!
D and I spent a long time at the recycling center, separating stuff out into the appropriate bins. I was stymied by what to do with all the food: all the half-finished bags and jars that a well-stocked home cook had -- the jars all labeled neatly and everything. It was sad to have to get rid of it all. In the process I cut my finger on a bit of broken glass and had to ask the staff for first aid: one employee shouted to another in the scousest accent I've ever heard: "Alex! This man needs to wash his hands! He's got an injury!" They also gave me a little wound-cleaning wet wipe and a band-aid so it was okay.
I got home and needed a nap because we were going out again that evening. To see Karkasaurus and Petrol Bastard, which was such fun even if there was so much dry ice I could taste it and it felt like I was in beginning-of-horror-movie levels of fog. And like I said D got his Loop earplug stuck in his ear, but V got it out today so that's worked out okay. We ran into a number of people that we know there, from different things -- sign of a good gig -- and might have been led astray for a completely extraneous pint afterwards, by this person and her girlfriend and their Welsh friend. Said person continues to be delightfully tactile around me in a way that usually doesn't get to happen absent some romantic or sexual interest, and it's utterly delightful.
And then we left them to their reckless ways and got an uber home just before midnight which is why I didn't have time to talk about all of this in yesterday's blog post!
I did well to be feeling as okay as I am today; I think the fact that I continue to get insomnia when I'm drunk, which at least means I can drink water while I'm awake, keeps the hangovers from being as bad as I've been led to expect in my forties!
But really, how do you spell it in English?
Also, please take a poem
Edit: Also, also, two videos
Oh, sweetie. That's... that's just not how cassette tapes work. Not even overseas. You fast forward or rewind - literally winding the tape again - and hope that your timing is amazing. I mean, with practice I guess you can get pretty good, but still.
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Last week's bread held out fairly well until it did a variety of mould-related activity. There were still some rolls left, fortunately.
Friday night supper: Gujerati khichchari (with cashew nuts) which I do not seem to have made for absolute yonks.
Saturday breakfast rolls: brown grated apple: Light Spelt flour, molasses, a touch of ginger (this didn't really come through, probably overpowered by the molasses): rose like absolute whoah.
Today's lunch: the smoked haddock and pulses thing - smoked haddock loin fillets baked in cream + water with bay leaf, mace and 5-pepper blend, flaked and then layered with bottled black beans (would buy again), some of the cooking liquid added, top sprinkled with panko crumbs and baked in moderate oven for c. 40 minutes, served with baked San Marzano tomatoes, and slow-cooked tenderstem broccoli, finished with lime, some of which seemed less tenderstemmed than one might have expected.
The heroine of Rooftoppers is orphan Sophie, found floating in a cello case the English Channel after a terrible shipwreck and adopted by a charming eccentric named Charles who raises her on Shakespeare and Free Spirited Inquiry. Unfortunately the English authorities do not approve of children being raised on Shakespeare and Free Spirited Inquiry, so when they threaten to remove Sophie to an orphanage, Charles and Sophie buy themselves time by fleeing to Paris in an attempt to track down traces of Sophie's parentage.
Sophie is stubbornly convinced she might have a mother somewhere out there who survived the shipwreck! Charles is less convinced, but willing to be supportive. On account of the Authorities, however, Charles advises Sophie to stay in the hotel while he pursues the investigation -- but Sophie will not be confined! So she starts pursuing her own investigations via the hotel roof, where she rapidly collides with Matteo, an extremely feral child who claims ownership of the Paris roofs and Does Not Want want Sophie intruding.
But of course eventually Sophie wins Matteo over and is welcomed into the world of the Rooftoppers, Parisian children who have fled from orphanages in favor of leaping from spire to steeple, stealing scraps and shooting pigeons (but also sometimes befriending the pigeons) and generally making a self-sufficient sort of life for themselves in the Most Scenic Surroundings in the World. The book makes it quite clear that the Rooftoppers are often cold and hungry and smelly and the whole thing is no bed of roses, while nonetheless fully and joyously indulging in the tropey delight of secret! hyper-competent! child! rooftop! society!!
The book as a whole strikes a lovely tonal balance just on the edge of fairy tale -- everything is very technically plausible and nothing is actually magic, but also, you know, the central image of the book is a gang of rooftop Lost Kids chasing the haunting sound of cello music over the roof of the Palais de Justice. The ending I think does not make the mistake of trying to resolve too much, and overall I found it a really charming experience.
More celebratory news in the actor-comedian-dancer Dick Van Dyke reaching his centenary yesterday. He's good at what he does, I saw a couple of his movies when I was very small and enjoyed them, and that's about all I have to say about that. Such an intensely American figure should never have been asked to play a cockney chimney sweep in the first place, but his talent did a good job with the performance, accent or no.
Say, I've been to a couple of concerts. A Stanford student recital, various groups doing movements of chamber music pieces. The only work I knew well was Brahms's Op. 60 piano quartet, and I could hear how far the students had to stretch in this tumultuously dark work, but they tried hard. Most interesting was Chausson's Op. 3 piano trio, with its extremely strange first-movement ending. Two pianists playing a movement from a Rachmaninoff suite changed places with their page turners for the next movement; that was nice.
Up in the City, the Esmé Quartet was joined by Kronos cellist Paul Wiancko for Schubert's String Quintet, though the program book kept stating that it was a quartet. This was the last concert in the Robert Greenberg-curated series of morning Schubert concerts, and Greenberg had some useful things to say about how the piece is constructed from sub-ensembles: two overlapping quartets in the opening bars, a trio playing the theme in the slow movement with the first violin dancing descant above and the second cello providing pizzicato below. In that slow movement, when Schubert lowers the already pp volume to ppp, the softness and beauty were truly exquisite.
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One very small step for a man, one giant leap for Her Majesty's Government.
Cold War in a Country Garden (Dilke, volume 1) by Lindsay Gutteridge
- Introduction
- A Health Plan is a Contract
- The Three-Stage Model ⇐ You are here
The Three-Stage Model
When you have health insurance, you have a contract (health plan) with the insurance company that says that for the duration (the plan year) of the contract, you will pay them the agreed upon monthly fee every month (the premium), in exchange for them paying for your health care... some.
How much is "some"? Well, that depends.
To understand what it depends on, you have to understand the three-stage model that health plans are organized around.
This three-stage model is never described as such. It is implicit in the standard terms (jargon) of the health insurance industry, and it is never made explicit. There is no industry term (jargon) for the model itself. There are no terms (jargon) for the three stages. But health insurance becomes vastly easier to understand if you think about it in terms of the three-stage model that is hiding in just about every health plan's terms (agreements).
( Read more: 12,170 (sic!) riveting words about health insurance in the US] )
This post brought to you by the 221 readers who funded my writing it – thank you all so much! You can see who they are at my Patreon page. If you're not one of them, and would be willing to chip in so I can write more things like this, please do so there.
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- 1. Looks like the BBC are bullying people out unless they're bigots
- (tags:LGBT bigotry BBC OhForFucksSake )
- 2. Analysis finds "anytime electricity" from solar available as battery costs plummet
- (tags:electricity solarpower batteries )
- 3. Twins reared apart do not exist (The shaky science of genetic determinism)
- (tags:genetics twins iq history psychology )
- batteries,
- bbc,
- bigotry,
- electricity,
- genetics,
- history,
- iq,
- lgbt,
- links,
- ohforfuckssake,
- psychology,
- solarpower,
- twins
I tried to write an intro for this, but all I can do is gesture incoherently. No, I wasn't a Baldy, I wasn't a skinhead, but the milieu affected my life for Reasons. If you watch this documentary it may give you a better understanding of (some of) what made Minneapolis in the 80s what it was. Or maybe you were there too, and this will be an interesting tour of byegone days.
I really want to get together and share stories of those times. For now, here, have a pretty good documentary:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=8BSDZ1DIEIQ
