Dr. Spinning Top
Specimen Annotated Daily Schedule
Look carefully.
There's an ornate clock on the nightstand, all gilt and clever scrollwork—the owner clearly devoted to the concept of beauty in all things—and it is going to ruin somepony's day in a minute or so. It's not the clock's fault of course, it's just following orders—the Nuremberg Egg defense of clocks, really—but it's going to ruin a pony's day all the same.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick.
This is going to take a while. There's bound to be something more interesting than a clock around here... let's see (you are looking carefully, aren't you?) clothes, jewelry, all very pretty but in an anodyne way. All very neat. The jewels especially, arranged on velvet like surgeon's instruments, gleaming in the dawn half-light. There's a bookshelf too, rosewood, stuffed with books in at least four languages. The books are beautiful, bradel-bound with gold thread much in evidence, but unlike nearly everything else in the room they are worn and a little bit faded with cracked spines and frayed thread.
There's a pony here too, of course, nestled deep under the blankets with only a shock of red and orange mane poking out of the covers. If you strain your ears (you should be listening carefully, as well) you can hear her snore very very gently—though she would, of course, deny this vehemently.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick—won't be long now—tock.
Click.
It is conceivable that the clock could have made a more horrible noise, if only just.
06:00—Wake up.
06:00-06:05—Stare at clock, bewildered and uncertain what the hell it is and why it is making that horrifying sound. Stare at still-dim sky. Reconsider life choices.
06:05-06:20—Shower.
06:20-06:30—The Sacrament of Coffee. News is officially prohibited from happening during this hallowed time.
06:30-06:45—Reviewing early editions of major newspapers.
06:45-06:50—Primal scream therapy.
06:50-07:50—Achieving state of sufficient equianity by way of diverse ablutions and the application of cosmetics.
07:50-07:55—Seeing if the morning editions look any better now.
07:55-08:00—Further primal scream therapy.
08:00-08:30—Morning commute. Casting aspersions on the ancestry, character, and post-mortem fate of the Transport Secretary and all 18245 ponies working under her.
08:30-08:35—Tense negotiations with the security ponies which devolve into philosophy: If you were a changeling but didn't know it, and were in every respect exactly like the original would you need a visitor badge or could you enter through the staff entrance? And what does that have to do with tortoises?
08:35-08:36—Telling the security pony about your mother.
08:36-08:40—Dodging, avoiding, and if necessary assaulting ponies blocking access to the press office.
08:40-08:41—Discovering a fresh croissant and cup of coffee delivered by the principal private secretary.
08:41—08:45—Pledging eternal gratitude, hoof in marriage, and a hundredweight of jewels.
08:45—08:50—Breakfast.
08:50—08:55—Timorously peeking at the day's agenda.
08:55—09:00—Considering self-duplication spells, mirror-pools, time-travel, cloning, and shooting Blueblood. Giving up on shooting Blueblood as unrealistic.
09:00—09:30—Meeting three journalists and a gentlecolt from Equestria Daily regarding Equestrian territorial pretensions. Explaining Equestria has no territorial pretensions. Underlining that a princess suggesting a visit does not imply bringing an army along. Pointing out that Princess Twilight Sparkle does not have the constitutional authority to order the army anywhere, even if she wanted to, which she doesn't. Providing assurance that Shining Armor now commands the armies of the Crystal Empire. A brief tutorial on the difference between the Crystal Empire and Equestria. An even briefer tutorial on the proper use of a geographical atlas. An exceptionally brief—bordering on brusque—tutorial on the difference between 'over there' and 'here.'
09:30-09:35—Primal scream therapy
09:35-10:00—Civil Service status meeting. Enduring twenty-two minutes' natter about irrigation policies in the Southwest during which the Permanent Secretary for the Weather Office felt it necessary to explain what clouds are to the Permanent Secretary for Agriculture. Hoof-to-hoof combat averted when Dotted Line gave the belligerents a Look. Approx. 6.7 on the Death Glare Index. No casualties.
10:00-11:00—Discussing terms of favorable interview for Princess Twilight Sparkle in Equestria Daily with Breaking News.
11:00-11:30—Meeting with the Blueblood Fiasco Management Group. Doomsday Clock minute hand moved to three minutes to midnight based on unanimous vote. Drafted & sent letter to Princess Celestia suggesting that Blueblood be sent as emissary to the fabled kingdom of Amarant.
11:30-11:35—Brief interruption as the Permanent Secretary for the Foreign Office broke in on account of a standing enchantment which causes a klaxon to ring in the secretary's office whenever someone says 'Blueblood' and 'emissary' in the same sentence.
11:35-12:00—Meeting of the BFMG (Motto: Ne nos inducas in interfectionem!) continues with the drafting of the General-Purpose Blueblood Catastrophe Apology Form, version 27.1.
12:00-12:15—Drafting a press release regarding the Northern Griffonstan situation. Reworking it so it is impossible to claim the statement supports either side of the conflict.
12:15-12:20—Further revisions in order to remove any hint of territorial pretensions.
12:20-12:25—Finalizing revisions in order to remove the merest hint that Equestria has any opinion on the conflict whatsoever except, perhaps, to acknowledge that it might exist.
12:25-12:30—Realizing that what with the equivocation, the qualifiers, the weasel-words and so on the press release is actually the functional equivalent of a perfectly blank sheet of paper. Giving up on further work on it in disgust.
12:30—13:00—Lunch.
"You need to do something about Twilight Sparkle."
Spinning Top looked up from her buttered broccoli—no great chore, that—to see Dotted Line wearing his usual expression—the one that put ponies in mind of a large mournful dog.
"I am doing something about it. I've already scheduled a friendly interview to change the tone the press is taking at least a little bit. Breaking News okayed it just now. We're getting Gilded Lily, and she'll softball the interview."
Dotted nodded.
"Good. Give Her Highness a chance to shine. Maybe remind everypony that they owe her their lives a few times over. But that's not what I meant."
"Oh?"
Spinning Top polished off another piece of broccoli—finding it no easier to swallow than the previous one—and waved her hoof at a seat. For reasons hidden deep in that big fuzzy head of his, Dotted absolutely refused to sit unless invited.
"The press are eating her alive," he said, worried, "I've not seen it get this vicious with anyone else. Can't you... teach her?"
"She's a princess, Dotted-dear. I can't possibly presume to..."
"Yes, she is. And what she knows about media relations could comfortably fit in a matchbox. Without first removing the matches, either. Please?"
"I can... I can offer her my help."
"Thank you," Dotted said looking at his plate—ratatouille, more pushed around than eaten—his expression grumpier than usual. "She might need all the help she can get. I can’t believe how bad it got."
Spinny shrugged.
"I expected it."
"You did?"
"I worked the foreign news desk for ten years, Dotted. By the end, I saw this thing happen all the time."
"What do they have against Princess Twilight Sparkle?"
"Nothing at all. Oh, don't get me wrong, sometimes they do a hatchet job on purpose, sure, but this time I don't think they cared about the princess one way or the other. It's all about...look. Tell me. What is the real news of the day?"
"What?"
"You are the cabinet secretary. Don't tell me you aren't informed. Let's say you are the editor-in-chief for the day. What does your front page look like?"
"Heroic Civil Service Perform Yet Another Silent Miracle In Keeping Country From Exploding. Again, " said Dotted. He flashed a grin, suddenly looking considerably less mournful and about ten years younger.
"Too long for a title. Try SERVICE MIRACLE SAVES EQUESTRIA. Also I was being serious."
"Sorry. Okay. Um. Well, there's the second round of ceasefire negotiations between the Free Gryphon Rep—"
"Foreign policy. Under the fold, at best. Also this is the fifth time it was the second round of negotiations. Ponies are bored of it. Next."
Dotted blinked, taken aback.
"But they agreed to put the Steel Shadow Eyrie Massacre claims asi—"
"Nopony knows where Steel Shadow is. Hardly anypony cares. That won't even make it into the story."
"Okay. Well. The new Securities Trading Act is coming out of committee."
"Excellent! Money. That works. Can you explain it in twenty five words or fewer?"
"I... uh... It introduces the need for a third party to verify that there is good-faith collateral posted behind offers of default-swap and monoline insurances on debt inst—"
"Well done. Only about six ponies are still reading. And one of those is probably Sky Scribe checking if they got the jargon correct."
"I—it's important!"
"Of course it is. That doesn't change that only about six ponies are still reading. Will it make ponies richer?"
"Not really."
"Poorer?"
"No, but it will lessen the impact of a potential cra—"
"Nopony cares."
"I... I guess... well. There's nothing really important going on."
"Ah. Good. Blank front page. Perhaps with NOTHING AT ALL HAPPENING SORRY on it? That's going to go down well with management."
Dotted blinked. Flicked his ears, and pushed aside his plate.
"Fine. Show me how its done, newshound," he said with a crooked smile.
Spinny speared a piece of broccoli.
"Well. You always want the same sort of story leading. The basic beats you are looking for are fear, outrage, and anger. Outrage's best of all. That explains the Twilight Sparkle story."
"It does?"
"Certainly. You take a hatchet to a well-known figure. That gets you attention. Everypony knows who Princess Twilight is. Best of all, she's new to everypony so you can invent anything you damn well please. Now, about half of the ponies like the rough treatment. They like seeing the high-and-mighty taken down a peg. Especially this Twilight Sparkle, turning her nose up at everypony, thinking she's all that! Everypony knows that something ain't right with her, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera," Spinny said, her voice turning sharp and mocking.
"Surely not everypony is like that?"
"Oh, of course not, my dear. Of course not. Then you have the other half who are furious about a national treasure like Twilight Sparkle—smartest mare in all of Equestria, she is—being dragged through the mud. So they buy the papers in order to be outraged at them and to wave them at equally outraged friends who also bought copies."
"But these ponies are angry at the press."
"So? Angry readers and avid readers show up the same in circulation numbers and that's all the advertisers care about. Besides, give it a while and they may even make a story out of the outrageous treatment of Princess Sparkle in the press, and isn't it a shame, and isn't it a disgrace and so on and so forth. The result is the same: same outrage, same letters to the editor, except the two groups change sides for a bit," said Spinny with a resigned shrug. She cleaned her plate, and finished a slice of bread. Dotted's ratatouille remained untouched, as he leaned in, ears pointed forward.
"So none of them really care about Twilight Sparkle..."
"...she's just a prop to them. Best we can hope is to move the cycle of outrage to another position: the Poor Heroic Princess gambit."
"She is heroic!"
"I know this, you know this, the citizens of Ponyville probably know this. To most of Equestria she's just a name."
Dotted sat back, ears drooping.
"I can't accept that, " he said, "surely ponies are better than that."
"The Canterlot News Nightly circulation numbers say otherwise. It's past one. I'm going to have to leave. Is there anything else?"
"No," said Dotted, who looked quite deflated. "Thank you for the chat."
She left him lost in thought tapping the edge of his plate with a fork absentmindedly.
13:00-13:30—Midday editions survey.
13:30-13:35—Primal scream therapy.
13:35-14:15—Damage control due to marital indiscretion of a Cabinet Minister.
14:15-14:20—Plan to issue mandatory libido suppressants to Cabinet-level appointees vetoed.
14:20-14:25—Brief lecture in which Dotted explains the actual effects of saltpeter and how heart disease isn't likely to help except in a very terminal sort of way.
14:25-15:30—Drafting suitably contrite apology for said minister to read out in her front garden, projecting as much content domesticity as she possibly can.
15:30-16:30—Meeting on the maximum secrecy limits for classified material with the board of the National Security News Agency. Recommending that the short-term discretionary classification powers of the Tactical Subterfuge Act be retained, but issuing a statement of censure against the head of the Equestrian Secret Service for declaring the whole city of Manehatten top secret as a joke.
16:30-16:45—The Blueblood Fiasco Management Group receives a response from Princess Celestia which politely reject the Amarant posting idea on the grounds that fabled Amarant is lost somewhere beneath the endless shifting sands of Dromedaria. The letter also preemptively vetoed the idea of making Blueblood's first act as emissary be finding fabled Amarant on the grounds that ponies who try never come back.
16:45-17:00—The BFMG unanimously votes in favor of the proposition that "It Was Worth A Shot."
17:00-17:15—Evading Dotted Line, who has taken to enforcing his views on the suitable length of a workday with a squad of palace guards empowered to eject any workaholics (that aren’t him) from the premises.
17:15-17:50—Departmental budgetary meeting.
17:50-17:55—Brief debate on whether alcohol can be classified as an expense.
17:55-18:00—A department-wide agreement is reached that it can be—specifically under the 'medical attention' heading, provided it is is consumed just after attending a meeting of a legislative body.
18:00—18:30—Evening edition survey.
18:30—18:35—Primal scream therapy, though under the effect of a conus silentii spell due to necessary stealth.
18:35-18:44—Meeting of the Parliamentary Press Secretariat.
18:44-18:45—Meeting interrupted by Dotted's Overtime Inquisition (Motto: Nemo nos exspectat!)
18:45-18:50—Being gently prodded out of the building with assurances that the crisis will still be there tomorrow.
18:50-18:55—Vain attempts to get back in.
18:55—19:15—Arranging meeting with Gilded Lily.
19:15-19:30—Traveling to Chez Radin. Renewing blood-feud with the Transport Secretary and all who stand beside her.
19:30-19:45—Terse negotiations with the maître d'.
19:45-20:45—Dinner.
The very best thing that could be said about Chez Radin was that it was fashionable. Sadly—at least in Spinny's opinion—that was also the only good thing that could be said about it. The food was selected more for sounding provocative and chic on a menu—carbonized kale? hay rehydrated in champagne? mud soup?—than for actual taste, and the portion size was somewhere between a studied insult and a bad joke. Vast porcelain seas with the odd scrap of food just to break the monotony.
Gilded Lily was well aware of all these faults, so asking to meet here must have meant that she needed to be seen above all else, and Spinning was hard pressed to refuse her oldest friend. She knew quite well what it was to climb that particular greasy pole, with everything hinging on access, reputation, and the perception of keeping up. It wasn't always like that, of course. It used to be that working for EqD meant something and—Ah, but that was a road Spinny had been down altogether too many times. Things change. What was it that Gilded Lily used to say all the time back at Uni...?
Right. Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis. Times change, and we change to suit them. And Spinny... Spinny had changed. She'd given up the greasy pole for one that, it must be said, seemed to be covered with glue. Of course, she was head of her own department—not a lot of room for promotion there, but it was still an odd feeling not to be clawing for that extra little hoof up. Was she going to be doing the same thing ten years from now? Dotted had been hinting that she was likely to be offered his job when he retired but Spinny found the idea of Dotted Line retiring to be utterly ridiculous—even death itself, it was widely thought in the Service, wouldn't be enough to divest him of his job.
Lily had changed in her own way, too. She didn't run away when things had gotten... difficult in the newsroom. She stayed on, shrugging off buyouts and political shakeups. Spinny envied her a little bit. Oh, certainly, Press Secretary was a respectable job, well paid—not that that mattered—well regarded, and altogether much more to her mother's liking. That was rather the problem, really.
Spinny sat, lost in thought, slowly settling into the comfy chair, half-blind and half-indifferent to the restaurant's synthetically idiosyncratic décor when a familiar voice shook her from her reverie.
"Spinny! My dear! It's been too long!"
And it had been. It always was. Once upon a time they were inseparable. Once upon a time they were the twin terrors of the EqD newsroom. And before that at Uni, swotting Horsace, and making up wild stories about the fate of the Hermocoltes. Now it was so hard to sync up schedules, they went weeks without so much as catching sight of each other.
"Lily! Darling! It has! So lovely to see you. How's the Great Equestrian Novel coming along" said Spinny willing herself to smile.
Gilded Lily sat and smiled back.
"Slowly. It's coming along slowly. Actually, not so much coming along as backing away. Work's hectic, as you may imagine. We miss you in the newsroom, still."
"Oh, come now. Surely, you've trained up replacements?"
"Dozens. And if we keep it up and train up a few dozen more, we might be able to equal about a quarter of you. On your off days."
From behind Spinny' willed smile the real, hidden one, flashed for just a second.
"You are too kind, Lily. I'm sure they are quite capable," she said.
"Said like someopony who's never had to look at their copy. It's like the schools simply left off teaching Equish, I swear. So? How's working for The Mare," she said. She paused to catch the waiter's eye, and held up a hoof. "What can I get you, Spinny?"
Spinny smiled, put a theatrical hoof to forehead.
"Working for The Mare? Nam Versatricem quidem Phillydelphiae ego ipse oculis meis vidi in munere pendere, et cum illi equi dicerent: Κλωθοῖ τί θέλεις; respondebat illa: ἀποθανεῖν θέλω."
Lily actually giggled. Not the pleasantly tinkly giggle she used to tell you that, on mature reflection, what you said was acceptably droll, but her snorty giggle Spinny found herself missing so much.
"Well," she said, "I had no idea it was that bad! Death I can't—won’t!—provide, but let's see if we can't find something suitably numbing. Poulain! Please, a bottle of the 988 Château d'Yquem for my weary friend here."
Spinny smiled. Lily knew her weaknesses all too well. But still, the 988! That was altogether too expensive. Even for Lily. She tried to protest.
"Well that's magnificently kind, Lily, but that's really a dessert wine. It doesn't quite pair with—"
"Nonsense. You've been here before. They hardly propose to feed us here, now do they? Château d'Yquem it is! Well for you. I'm too sensible to drink moldy wine."
It was Spinny's turn to snort with laughter.
"It's delicious!"
"Moldy."
"Many things that are delicious are also moldy."
"Griffin propaganda."
"You like Pu-erh!"
"That's fermented. Not moldy."
"Spoiled, is the word you are looking for, Lily my dear."
"Hah. So. Is it really that bad?"
"Pu-erh? It tastes like something mistook your cup for a lav—"
"No, no. Work. Nam Versatricem quidem and all that. Mind. I'm not entirely sure you can hang in an office."
"It sure feels like it."
"And I see your delusions of godhood are progressing nicely."
"Oh come on! I couldn't think of another word for 'Spinny.'"
"Ταλασιουργοϛ?"
"That's a spinner of wool, Lily."
"Well? It could mean over ponies' eyes, couldn't it?"
"Ouch."
"Well, you walked into that one."
"Granted."
There was a moment of silence as the waiter approached, soundless, and poured wine. The delicious tawny-gold nectar for Spinny and something pale, cold, dry, and difficult to pronounce for Lily.
Lily broke the silence first.
"You never answered me."
"Mm?"
"Work. Is it that bad?"
Spinny sighed.
"No. Not really. It's... it's the same as it ever was. Just, sometimes I don't feel like I'm accomplishing that much. Every job has its grind, sure enough, but back at EqD you could hope that you'll write that one big story that'll change something. At the press office... you are forever treading water. If you do your job right you keep your department one step ahead of catastrophe until tomorrow. Then it starts all over again. I have to say... I envy you a bit. You can get somewhere."
"Aren't you supposed to get a shot at the big job someday?"
"So Dotted says. But that's really more of the same. You just juggle more catastrophes."
Lily swirled her drink in her glass and took a tiny bite from an even tinier portion of quail egg smothered in tarragon somethingorother.
"It's not that sunny over here, you know. The newsroom isn't as you remember it. It's all about the circulation, these days."
"So you've said."
"Yeah. But you haven't heard it. Not properly. Remember why you left?"
"Yes."
"It's ten times worse. It's not just squelching unprofitable stories. Copy gets edited from On High these days. Editorial independence is a joke, " Lily drained her glass and continued, "Yeah, you can write a story that makes a difference, sure, but nopony will let you publish it. Sometimes... sometimes I think you were lucky to get out when you did."
Spinny put her glass down carefully. It was worse than—well no. It was as bad as she had heard. But worse than she had believed. What she told Dotted at lunch was... well, cynicism. Bitterness. He shouldn't have tried to talk to her when broccoli was about. She hadn't believed it was true, not really. But now? Maybe she should have believed.
"So how are you holding on," Spinny asked.
"I... okay. I get by. Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis and all that. I'm too senior to fire just like that, but I have to be... careful. Or I'll get sent to cover flower shows and Celestia knows what else."
"Well," Spinny said, trying for cheerful, "at least tomorrow we can do some good, you and I. This mess with Princess Sparkle has to end. Thanks for agreeing to softball it."
"Yeah. Anyway, you asked about the novel? I do have some news," Lily said, reaching into her saddlebags.
They kept chatting for a while longer, making game attempts to eat the frequently puzzling and always inadequate food being placed before them. It wasn't until she was leaving that Spinny realized that they forgot to make a plan for the interview tomorrow. The conversation kept slipping away from the subject. Ah well. No need for some master plan. She could just rely on Lily, same as always.
20:45-21:15—Traveling back home.
21:15-22:00—Reading things that, blessedly, aren't newspapers.
22:00-22:15—Shower.
22:15—Collapsing in bed.
22:15-06:00—Uneasy sleep.
Hah! Alright, now I get it.
And lovely to see this updated. Missed it.
Well-paced, excellent work. Though I'm uncertain as to how I could expect anything different from the esteemed Ghost!
You had me cackling like a banshee before noon, and by the end of the day I was replete of life. And an excellent job on the Latin, as per my expectations. I could pair pig latin phrases up with various characters now I come to think of it.
Celestia: Si Non Confectus, Non Reficiat
Dotted Line: Quid Ego Sic Dico or Vis-ne faciem capite repletam
Spinning Top: Excretus Est Ex Altitudine or Depositatum De Latrina
Prince Blueblood: "Ab Hamo" or possibly "Mea Culpa" or on a bad day "Casus Belli"
Twilight Sparkle: Non Sumet Nullus Pro Responso (I don't know why, it just feels right).
Pinkie Pie: Lagunculae Leydianae Non Accedunt
Anyone who can translate these without looking them up went to a British boarding school, and as I can relate to that you have my sympathy.
Anyway, another masterwork, I again bow to your superior art!
A good chapter, I think this was, but I'm afraid that I don't have much more detailed commentary.
Oh, one question: the chapter seemed to me to contradict itself on a certain point. Does Spinning Top like or dislike broccoli?
Versatricem - nouns of agency are formed from the stem of the fourth principal part. verso, versare, versavi, versatum
Phillydelphiae - in the original quote, Cumis is most likely in the fairly obscure locative case (for Cumae, dative, ablative and locative are all identical). Phillydelphia seems best transposed to Latin as a first declension noun, and the locative of first declension nouns takes the -ae ending.
5458840
In a word, yes. That's the villain.
5473210
She doesn't like it but she does eat it. There's actually a bit of a reason for the broccoli—Spinny's spent a lot of her life doing things she doesn't like because they are in some way good for her.
5473121
Well, I did actually get all of those without the requisite British Boarding School Experience. I'm guessing a lifetime of Pratchett helped.
5473077
5473049
Thanks! Glad you enjoyed it.
5473277
See, everyone, this is why I have the best readers. This right here.
The first is a rather shameful typo I'll fix. The second was the result of a lot of agonizing. I figured out it was the locative in the original, but I was taught in school to only ever use locative for domus and nothing else. Still, I'll bow to your obviously greater experience. Thanks for the help and I hope the story—errors aside—was fun.
5473121 I'm well out of my depth. We pick up Pig Latin in American
primaryelementary schools, but it's of this sort:Twilight Sparkle: Urplepay Artsmay
Prince Blueblood: Igbay Erkjay
Celestia: Unsay Uttbay
Et cetera.
Five sessions of primal scream therapy a day? It's a wonder Spinny hasn't lost her voice by now.
--------
There are too many wonderful things about this story, so in the interest of saving time, I'll just settle with saying "good work, keep it up".
Slightly unrelated, I know, but the bits about Blueblood made me consider that perhaps Princess Celestia's view of him is something of an understated version of how Rarity views Opalescence.
That had me laughing so hard I was in tears, keep up the great humor!
Nothing like a Civil Service story for a good laugh.
5473318
Ah, thanks.
Excellent job, as per usual. It makes me wish I had the least bit of talent for language, so that I might at least take a passable stab at Latin. Sadly, while my talents are otherwise legion, language other than English simply escapes me/ (I couldn't even manage Klingon.)
Two showers a day? She gets that dirty just from sleeping?
I could imagine Spinny's day in a montage to Tears for Fears' "Mad World."
enjoyed this quite a bit.
I swear, it's like Spinny and I share the same mental space from 6-9 AM, except I sometimes engage in primal scream therapy sessions when perusing the news while commuting to work!
I see what you did there.
I was under the impression that that was the preferred endstate for an Official Press Release.
5473364 Copious amounts of practice probably helps.
Always nice to EQD holding up/down the standards of journalism. I especially liked your nod to Bradel too.
I like the "cone of silence" reference.
I'm not sure who would fill the Max role but I can so see Dotted in the Chief role.
Poor poor Dotted.
Oh wonderful! Always enjoy reading more of the Civil Service adventures, and I have to say if you ever write Spinny's conversation with our esteemed Princess Bookhorse Purplesmart, it'd be a very enjoyable read as well.
Also one has to wonder on the effectiveness of primal scream therapy in a species evolved from herbivorous herd animals.
The motto of the BFMG: Lead us not into killing!
Now, I wonder: Do they mean let Blueblood's stupidity lead them into killing him, or of not killing themselves to escape it.
5473851
Yes.
5473121
Sorry to ask, but could I get a translation? I don't understand Latin and have a poor head for languages.
I didn't know Big B was into that! NSfGhost, indeed.
Also you should add a link to Filly's Guide, at least in the Author's Notes, given that this chapter is a direct prequel. A wonderful prequel, might I add, which is going to make me re-read Filly's Guide this instant.
You're both wonderfully awfully wonderful, you know that, right?
Incidentally, I think _finding_ is supposed to be finding; you have to use [ u ] [ /u ].
I enjoyed this. It shall be in my next set of reviews.
5473318
Actually, on further reflection, you're right that the locative is not appropriate here. I missed the change in meaning from the original. Naturally, Spinning Top is from Phillydelphia, not at or in Phillydelphia. The best option for this meaning is the simple genitive (as that way you avoid throwing extraneous prepositions into the mix, further deviating from the source). That's still Phillydelphiae, but for a different reason. It's important to get these things right.
Classically speaking, the locative could be used with a number of specific words (domus, humus, rus, bellum, etc.), and especially with the names of cities, towns, and small islands. Although in post-classical Latin, I believe the trend was increasingly away from such usage.
5474121
Into book-binding? Oh, yeah. He's pretty hardcore.
5474136
Oh, I really am an idiot. I did put a link, but only in the Table of Contents chapter which, naturally, nobody at all reads. It's now been included in the Author's Notes as well.
5474148
Thanks for the heads-up. I wrote the story on drafin using markdown (originally) and had to fiddle around with it a bit to get it to be FimFic-y.
5474169
I actually do know about what a locative is used for, (my native language has... quite a lot of cases) and, yeah, that's one of the other reasons I didn't use it. She's 'from', not 'at.'
Still. Quite interesting, the stuff about which words get to use the locative. I was only taught about domus, not any of the others. I'm quite put out over that.
And, yes. It is absolutely important to get these things right. Spinning Top would not look kindly on me giving her faulty lines to deliver.
After a long day, this bit of intellectual humor and mayhem was just the pick-up I needed! Huzzah!
I wrote a review of Dr. Spinning Top - Specimen Annotated Daily Schedule. It can be found here.
5474596
Thanks. I'm glad you enjoyed it. It is very much a sequel[1] and annoyingly also a prequel—To Filly's Guide to Not Making Headlines however because of the way they were written you can read them in either order. However, if you don't know that it is a prequel (which you might not because I'm an idiot and forgot to put it in the Author's Notes) the ending, I suspect, won't hit nearly as hard.
[1] Sequel might not be the right word. It's just set in the same universe and sort of... continues on from where the other stories left off. Not in plot but in characterization.
5474607
More of another episode from the same serial, really. Most episodes of MLP aren't sequels to each other, but having seen the other episodes helps inform you about the characters in this one.
Thank you for letting me know, as did Bradel. I haven't read Bradel's story, so I suppose I'm going to have to do that. I'm a bit zombied right now, but I think I'll try and have a go of it.
Oh good lord, you have no idea how happy I am to see more of your "Civil service" works. And from another characters perspective too, much fun!
I will admit I don't necessarily pick up on some of the more clever writing tricks you get up to, but that almost seems like half the fun!
Thank you very much for another fine chapter. It serves as a great bookend for the day. :)
Not even death could keep Dotted Line from showing up to save the next day from behind the scenes. The real question is whether he'd show up to work as a ghost or a lich... Whatever the case, it'd crank up his death glares to actual death effects.
5473318
Ah, you would notice that. Yes, I am thoroughly unoriginal aren't I, but they fitted so well, I just couldn't help myself.
5473350
5474118
I must confess to stealing them all from Sir Terry Pratchett, my and Ghost's inspiration. They translate as follows:
Celestia:
if it ain't broken, don't fix it.
Dotted Line:
1. Because I say so (a reason for doing things given by many tyrants, permanent secretaries and kindergarten teachers)
2. would you like a face full of head?
Spinning Top
1. To be strongly reprimanded (more or less) literally: To be shat upon from a great height.
2. Gone down the Toilet.
Blueblood
1. Off the hook
2. My fault
3. A cause for war
Twilight Sparkle:
"She won't take no for an answer" (I really couldn't help myself)
Pinkie Pie:
"Batteries Not Included"
5474298
So it is a traditional Equestrian name!
5475010
Thanks very much; I did recognize "Casus Belli" but the rest are new to me. I'd return the favor but I rather suspect that "proper" (i.e. American, apparently) Pig Latin is more-or-less self-explanatory.
Your writing is as funny, and as erudite, as always. (It was the "Nuremberg egg" joke that stood out the most, IMO, even more so than your adaptation of Petronius.)
A tic inducing tick, then?
Now, this is the Civil Service we're talking about here, so one has to ask;
Are they different books with one language each, or one book which is split into four different languages? Quite possible mid-sentence?
You see, if somepony got it into their head that they needed to make a diversity quota...
[EDIT] I just realized this joke is all the more poignant since she mixes Greek and Latin for a joke later. Even when I'm being flippant Ghost does it.
Well it could have made the exact same noise, only in Blueblood's register. It is conceivable that every sound and sentence in the world could be made worse by it having been said by Blueblood. Even a sentence said by Blueblood could be made worse via application of a second Blueblood to disagree with him or, perhaps far worse, agree.
"Doctor, I have some bad news-"
"After coffee."
"It can't wait until-"
"After. Coffee."
"Really, you want to hear this-"
"If you insist on not waiting until I have finished my coffee, I will punch a hole in the bottom of Dotted Line's thermos using stationary from your desk, and hide a note in your diary in your hoofwriting about how he had annoyed you recently. Quite realistically, you will have already done that for me. Now, coffee."
"..."
"... Ah. There. Now, what were you so desperate to tell me?"
"You were drinking decaff."
"I see. Move my 6:45 up to 6:30, would you?"
"No."
"Dotted-"
"No. It doesn't matter that the 18,245 ponies working in Transportation department seem to be pissing it away, you cannot use their budget to... a croissant, you say?"
"Freshly baked. There was still steam rising from it."
"I'll consider it, then."
"Dear god, you killed him?! Didn't you remember the motto?!"
"Omnis Traductor Traditor"
I note that this seems to take the same amount of time as her primal scream therapy. I suspect overlap.
In disgust? Why, Spinning, I do believe this is you finest work yet!
Dotted, I think you're being a bit... what's the word?
Ah! I was going to say generous. No, no, this settles that right up.
... Oh Ghost, please don't tell me you're about to get that cynical?
You are. You're going to go there, aren't you?
And there it is. I was right. You live in a sad, dark little world, Ghost. A world of unrepentant irony, bitterness, cruelty, hypocrisy and most importantly, cynicism, that I can't even touch on.
But of course you are. You're very in touch with reality, and I try to distance myself away from it as possible.
Ah, and there it is. Ghost's cure for reality.
Most characters, when suddenly distant and lost in thought about something that has made them morose, are dwelling on the harsh cruelties of reality and what an utter bastard it is to be subjected to it. This, however, is Dotted.
Dotted is, you see, Ghost's perfect avatar for the being who could fix reality, if given the chance. Or perhaps if it was left in a reasonable proximity to him whilst nobody else was looking and he was sure they wouldn't miss it for... a while. A pony with the power to do righteous things, the humility to want to only do righteous things, and a very solid head on his mopey shoulders.
His very, very full, ponderous, fuzzy little head.
So when we read that Dotted Line is suddenly lost in thought about something that has made him morose...
... well. Let's just say a wry smile has appeared on my face and leave it at that.
Well, if one were to be libertarian about it...
It's only a gentle touch, but it's nice to know that Ghost thinks that female politicians are just as capable of marital infidelity as their male counterparts.
Of course it can. You are, of course, using it in its intended purpose of sterilization, and as a Doctor you should know that.
Of course, you may be sterilizing braincells rather than medical equipment but the principle is the same:
Unsterilized equipment tends to be harmful to the health of those it is used for.
Ah. I should have waited a single line more.
wouldyoubelieve.com/graphics/cone_title.gif
Did you... did you just make a Spanish Inquisition joke in latin? You did? You did.
You know things like this make me question my very firm stance on heterosexuality, don't you? You must be aware of this?
Stop it. I do not plan on using the Kinsey Scale as a slippery-dip.
"Do you know who I am?"
"Why, no, ma'am, I do not."
"And if you like to keep it that way? I will get service."
Ash. Cornflakes in wine. Actually a rather nice chocolate bisque.
Can I just say how sublimely perfect this line is? It's just elegance in its simplicity.
It's one of those very subtle touches that really make your writing what it is.
What's that? I can't say that? Well, I'm saying it anyway, and there's nothing you can do to stop me!
Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
I told him now to bugger off –
I'd things to do, you see.
His eyebrow rose – He thought I jest
I sighed and looked away
My labor's not for likes of you,
It's for Her Majesty.
Now, this was all Greek to me.
But the important bit, roughly translated by a friend, is;
And when they saw (Clotho here means) Spinny hanging in her office of Phillydelphia, her ponies asked "Spinning, what do you want?" she answered, "I want to die."
Dark.
Cheese is moldy milk. Wine is moldy grapes. Vodka is moldy water. Cider is moldy whatever-you-threw-in-a-bucket-in-the-spring.
Why does this line fill me with the most horrible sense of forboding?
Oh.
And then it ended.
Well, now I need to read Bradel's story. And now I was waiting for Dotted Line to save the day, and somehow I think that moody contemplation above really was Dotted accepting defeat.
Which is all the more horrible for the reasons I listed above being not enough.
Dark.
And then I saw you posted your own translation anyway, which was much better, and I just hit my head against the keyboard because of course this is the one translation of yours you explain that I don't have to have my Language Major friend hovering over my shoulder for.
Uranos damn it, Ghost. Now I want to throw things at you.
Damn it Ghost.
Aw, I felt rather more sorry for Dotted than normal here. He needs a hug. And by hug I of course mean very good tea. With a hug.
Ever wonder what precisely Blueblood is getting up to. I mean, we know what he is doing, in a general, disasterous sense, but the specifics...
5475452
Are you trying to take Ghost's title of "Verbose Bastard" here?
Mind you, that whole comment was absolutely amazing in and of itself, to the point I seriously worry about the continued stability of reality when you two start doing words in close proximity.
Exactly what I love seeing out of our civil servants
A great update. I don't know how many times I almost fell out of my chair laughing especially the daily schedule log bits.
And thanks for the translation notes at the end. My Latin is more rusty than.... okay I can't think of anything appropriate, and my knowledge of greek stops at a few letters of the alphabet.
Always looking forward to more of these.
Huh. And here I thought Bradel just made up his name. I didn't know it was a form of bookbinding.
No one expects the Dotted Inquisition. Their chief weapon is surprise! Also fastidiousness. Surprise and fastidiousness. Fastidiousness and surprise.
I feel rather proud of myself for at least being able to recognize the "Clotho" in the string of Latin and Greek. If physics gave me nothing else, it gave me familiarity with the Greek alphabet.
In any case, great stuff from my favorite group of unsung heroes, including a tie-in with another great story. Loved it from start to finish. Thank you for it.
5475452
Bonus points for a riff on Dickinson that can still be sung to the tune of "The Yellow Rose of Texas."
I now feel compelled to incorporate primal scream therapy into my daily routine.
Is this pratchett comedy that keeps me coming over and over again with your work. I laugh for over 5 minutes until I was nearly coughing my lungs. The ingenious, the wit, the sheer magnificent comedy in less than 50 words and that can exist almost in a vacuum. You had made my day. Thank you.
Here, have this:
That mission for Blueblood might go right in all the wrong ways, he has that compass rose mark for a reason after all. Who knows, he might actually find that lost Kingdom.
Nemo nos exspectat!
Except for those of us who change the times to suit us.
Heh heh heh.
Yeah, Twi needs help avoiding and/or managing the scandal-mongers. As Spinning rightly points out to Dotted, semi-fictional scandal based on a flat-footed deliberate misreading of an innocuous statement is a lot more interesting and sells a lot more newspapers than factual reporting of actual events. This is only superseded by 'If it bleeds, it leads', and Equestria is too peaceful a society to have a regular and certain supply of violent crime with which to fill the front page.
Now... I wonder if Gilded Lily is interested in a new job? How does 'Press Secretary to the Court of Friendship' sound? I'm sure she'd get on like a house on fire with Rarity and being the spin doctor for Equestria's own superhero group would be a professional challenge!
Nice Blade Runner reference there!
5475452
I WANT THIS ON MY
theravenousprincess.files.wordpress.com/2013/11/tombstone-packaging.jpg
Reading reading reading --
c2.staticflickr.com/8/7033/6655571711_8e6d54e899.jpg
BWAhahahahahahaha
Lunch: Dotted is going to take it on himself to overhaul the entire Equestrian news system, on top of everything else he does, isn't he?
Okay, well, that makes sense in retrospect. I'm going to need to make my own spittake pic at this rate, aren't I?
5475728
Well, we do know about one instance... Did you know Blueblood is a noted patron of archeology? No? Neither did anyone else. But apparently his latest archeological endeavor ended with Equestria nearly being taken over by a (fictional) alicorn/bicorn/cherub/robo-dragon/.... Fortunately, not only did Twilight have a team of crack librarians on hoof, Rarity had wedding plans, and collectively they managed to not only thwart the stranger but get Blueblood out of everyone's mane for a brief while, too. (He got back to causing chaos right quick, all things considered, but it was a rather different kind of chaos, at least shortly.)
Suppose (for a moment) we could, somehow, coerce or cajole the two of them to collaborate...
Ghost, would that require re-negotiating your arrangements with the Lords of Creation?
I like this story for the same reason I like all of Ghost's Civil Service stories: it "pulls off the difficult trick of telling a rich, satisfying story about good people being good.” Much as the show does, but in an adult way.
Ghost's Equestria is a world which, unlike our own, is governed (mostly) by capable people for definite ends. They may not all be nice people or nice ends but at least someone is in charge and knows what they're doing. This is possible because Equestria is a world which, unlike our own, is full of fantastical creatures with magical powers. These creatures are called "grown-ups."
Spinning Top is a grown-up. She's one of the nicer ones, like Dotted Line, for the good they're trying to do despite the crankiness and quirkiness with which they go about it. Her most endearing quirk is her love of nerd humor. By that I mean nerd humor as it was before it devolved into endless repetition of pop-culture tropes: a complex, multitextual, often multi-lingual humor that you really needed to be intelligent and studious to understand.
The English call this "schoolboy humor" because it is characteristic of someone to whom words and ideas are novel and delightful playthings, and who has resources and leisure to play. It is considered juvenile because words and ideas are not fit playthings for adults: only power is.
Spinning Top knows this, or at least knows that her job has very little to do with words and ideas, and almost entirely to do with power. This is rather sad because she loves words and ideas and she may not speak that love for most of her waking hours But she does her job because she knows that someone has to referee other peoples' power-play, which of course means playing with power herself. She's a grown-up, after all.
But occasionally, after hours, in private with a friend of the same heart, she can share her childish things. Words, ideas, and the ideals they should rightfully serve--honesty, loyalty, kindness and the rest--they get to come out and play for a few hours. And that keeps her going.
Isn't she a bit like you and me?