Second! Terry Pratchett has been trending the past few days because, apparently, the Gender Critical movement has decided to posthumously “recruit” him by claiming that he would’ve supported their movement. If you’re unfamiliar, that movement is basically to remove social and legal protections for trans people.
This is gross, it’s cowardly, and it’s being thoroughly and viciously debunked by people who knew him personally, including his daughter.
(Rhianna Pratchett has probably been having a rough one the past few days, but her twitter has had a lot of people sharing affirming memories of her dad, which has been lovely to see).
Anyway. I’m not in the UK, and I’m not sure if this just a few people or an earnest effort from GCers to rebrand Sir Terry as Gender Critical and Discworld as some sort of terf zone, but I didn’t want to let this pass without a loud and belligerent TRANS RIGHTS from me. Trans Discworld fans, you are loved. I am but a humble quote poster (and, as the past two years have proved, very bad at it) but I and so, so many others support you, always.
(And if you happen to be here looking for quotes that support gender critical ideology then I wish you a very reading comprehension. scram.)
Okay so I’ve been doing some thinking and have come to the conclusion that sometimes the Oceans in One Piece kind of operate like the ocean in the Discworld series.
The basic gist of it (Since I can’t find the novel where Terry Pratchett explains it) is that because of the different densities of water, there’s different layers to the ocean. most ships will sail on the top, but if one sinks it’ll go down to a deeper part of the ocean and sail on a different current, buffeted around deep below the waves on a sea that is largely the same but also very different
and I guess since One Piece is One Piece we can apply that same logic to Sky Islands, since there’s essentially a sky ocean as well.
I guess what i’m saying is that sometimes things happen because narratively it fits or is cool and makes the worldbuilding stronger
… the theory is easy to understand. It runs: the sea is, after all, in many respects, only a wetter form of air. And it is known that air is heavier the lower you go and lighter the higher you fly. As a storm-tossed ship founders and sinks, therefore, it must reach a depth where the water below it is just viscous enough to stop its fall. In short, it stops sinking and ends up floating on an underwater surface, beyond the reach of the storms bu far above the ocean floor.
in practise water does not compress the same way air does so you don’t normally get layers in the same way (and the thermal differences don’t make enough difference) but look up Brine Pools… underwaterpools, lakes. and rivers of hypersaline water that separates out from the surrounding liquid.
you also can get similar effects from dissolved minerals like hydrogen sulfide, like in this Cenote in Mexico:
Realistically, water doesn’t work this way but thematically its great and oh these are gorgeous examples!
The flotillas of the dead sailed around the world on underwater rivers. Very nearly nobody knew about them. But the theory is easy to understand. It runs: the sea is, after all, in many respects, only a wetter form of air. And it is known that air is heavier the lower you go and lighter the higher you fly. As a storm-tossed ship founders and sinks, therefore, it must reach a depth where the water below it is just viscous enough to stop its fall. In short, it stops sinking and ends up floating on an underwater surface, beyond the reach of the storms bu far above the ocean floor. It’s calm there. Dead calm. Some stricken ships have rigging; some even have sails. Many still have crew, tangled in the rigging or lashed to the wheel. But the voyages still continue, aimlessly, with no harbor in sight, because there are currents under the ocean, and so the dead ships with their skeleton crews sail on around the world, over sunken cities and between drowned mountains, until rot and shipworms eat them away and they disintegrate. Sometimes an anchor drops, all the way to the dark, cold calmness of the abyssal plain, and disturbs the stillness of centuries by throwing up a cloud of silt. One nearly hit Anghammarad, where he sat watching the ships drift by, far overhead. He remembered it, because it was the only really interesting thing to happen in the last nine thousand years.
– Terry Pratchett, Going Postal
The full quote from the Discworld post from earlier
This seems like a good time to mention that if you are into fantastical worlds filled with outrageous characters and wild locations that host long-form mostly-independent but connected stories (often parodying well-known classic media properties and fantasy tropes) about a bunch of lovable misfits with a running theme of standing up to/ ultimately dismantling the corrupt power structures that serve oppressive regimes
you might enjoy One Piece
(and if you already enjoy One Piece you will enjoy @onepiecescience)
Okay so I’ve been doing some thinking and have come to the conclusion that sometimes the Oceans in One Piece kind of operate like the ocean in the Discworld series.
The basic gist of it (Since I can’t find the novel where Terry Pratchett explains it) is that because of the different densities of water, there’s different layers to the ocean. most ships will sail on the top, but if one sinks it’ll go down to a deeper part of the ocean and sail on a different current, buffeted around deep below the waves on a sea that is largely the same but also very different
and I guess since One Piece is One Piece we can apply that same logic to Sky Islands, since there’s essentially a sky ocean as well.
I guess what i’m saying is that sometimes things happen because narratively it fits or is cool and makes the worldbuilding stronger
… the theory is easy to understand. It runs: the sea is, after all, in many respects, only a wetter form of air. And it is known that air is heavier the lower you go and lighter the higher you fly. As a storm-tossed ship founders and sinks, therefore, it must reach a depth where the water below it is just viscous enough to stop its fall. In short, it stops sinking and ends up floating on an underwater surface, beyond the reach of the storms bu far above the ocean floor.
Sal and Gabi Break the Universe by Carlos Hernandez is one of the most fun middle-grade books I’ve read in a long time. I can’t remember the last time I read a book with so many surprises and that had a character whose head I liked riding around in so very much. AND there are some Pratchett shout-outs! These characters are well read!
I’m refilling my queue in a little bit (and then I’m going on VACATION soon for the first time in FOREVER so I’ll be able to write down so many quotes at once you have no idea!) We’re coming up on Unseen Academicals and I’m so excited.
