let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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roma★
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$LAYYYTER
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★
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Origami Around
almost home
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@0-fandom-hopper-0
One thing that's so underrated about PHM is Eva Stratt's appearance. She doesn't have the lipstick, sleek bun, pencil skirt (or even pantsuit), and heels look that is so often the uniform of female characters in similar roles. She doesn't wear makeup (as much as any other actor). She wears her hair down or in the simplest ten-second buns. She wears softs, easy to move in clothes that are weather appropriate. Why would she spend extra time making her physical body less efficient?
The chili plant made a deal with their God to only be consumed by things that could spread its seeds and fly. The chili received capsaicin, making itself painful to eat for mammals, but not birds, and all was well for the chili.
Then the human shows up, tastes it, and likes the pain. So now there's this flightless fucking mammal eating the chili. Like not even a fruit bat or anything, a flightless fucking mammal chomping on the chili.
What the fucking shit, God, cried the chili, I specifically requested the opposite of this.
Now hold on, wait a moment, replied the God who talks to plants but has no idea what the fuck these apes are going to do next. It might be something cool.
And in a flash of a second, in barely fraction of the time that chili took to develop capsaicin, the humans went from walking across land bridges and rowing little boats across small waters, into building ships that could cross oceans. More humans tasted the chili, and liked the pain. They took the seeds with them, and planted it elsewhere.
See? They spread the seeds.
They're still not flying, said the chili, still feeling insulted and betrayed.
But before the conversation was over, the humans were still not done fucking around and nowhere close to finding out. The ships became machines, and another machine was invented, capable of flight. Now, not only were the humans farming chili on continents far too far away for any of the birds that originally ate it could dream of flying, but the chili flew with them to lands where it could possibly not grow, so that humans over there could also eat it and enjoy the pain.
You see? They spread your seeds and fly.
It doesn't count as keeping a promise if you only manage it by a fucking accident, said the chili, still somewhat insulted. But nonetheless, the chili thrived.
it was a stroke of genius to give James T Kirk a bitchy flip phone in the 60's, truly amazing to watch him slam it shut like a pissed off socialite girl in 2000's teen shows
eva stratt would put ava ironlung in the iron lung and ava would forgive her for it #yuri <- string of words that can only be only produced after prolonged underexposure to sunlight
another project hail mary observation:
Rocky’s gift to Grace immediately reminded me of the Voyager Pulsar Map
When Rocky gives him that little model with all the connected points and lines, Grace somehow catches on almost instantly that Rocky is from 40 Eridani. And at first i was like how the hell did he recognize that pattern so fast???
And then it clicked for me...
It visually mirrors the pulsar map placed on the Voyager probe. I'm aware they work differently because the Voyager Pulsar Map is about locating Earth in the galaxy using fixed pulsar landmarks, while Rocky’s model is just mapping local star distances from 40 eridani to systems like Tau Ceti, but it’s just cool because they’re alike in the way they both use spatial patterns instead of language to show where something is from and how to get there.
The concept is so similar that your brain immediately associates it with “location,” “origin,” “this is where i am from”
If you don't know, the pulsar map on Voyager was basically humanity trying to leave behind an address in space. If extraterrestrial life ever found the probe, the map could theoretically help them trace where it came from. It was humanity saying: hey, you found our probe. Please return to Earth!
I like to think that is why Grace understood it so quickly. Because even without language, the idea behind it is strangely universal. Every intelligent life form wants to know the same things:
where are you from? how far away are you from me?
You couldnt come up with a jollier name for a bird if you tried
this thang has one of my favorite ebird descriptions of all time
I've seen a lot of people talking about how autistic-coded Grace is in the movie, but I have yet to see anybody mention how much deeper that autism runs in the book? Like the first two chapters are maybe like a page or two of Grace waking up and then the rest is just him calculating shit for no real reason.
Like he immediately is like "I need to figure out how much gravity I'm experiencing right now because it's really annoying me. Also I would like to know how big of a centrifuge I would have to be in in order to experience this level of gravity, and before you ask, yes, I showed my work. Let me explain, in way more detail than anyone could possibly want or need, my calculations." He literally admits he doesn't need to be doing all this math, he just really, really wants to.
And then when he tries to start communicating with Rocky, the first two things he brings are a clock and tape measure. So he can teach him about numbers. No hi, hello, how are you? I don't think they even got to 'yes' and 'no' before he pulled up trying to teach the alien how to count. This man is so obsessed with numbers, he cannot possibly conceive of an intelligent species that isn't just as obsessed with numbers.
I am learning to imagine the future:
My sycamore tree began life in the gravel at the edge of a parking lot. If trees can feel pain, that is a painful, unlucky death. I carefully dug it up and put it in a pot I made out of a disposable cup.
Hello small one. This world may be cruel, but I will not be.
I decided to take care of it, not expecting it to survive, and when my sycamore tree unfurled one tiny leaf and then another, it chiseled a tiny foothold in my terrified brain, the kind of brain that doesn't remember a world before the atomic bomb and before 9/11.
I googled the lifespans of trees. My neurons had to stretch and expand to accommodate what I learned: My sycamore tree may live five hundred years. It's hard to think something so big. In twenty years, my baby sycamore tree will be three stories tall, and the home of many creatures. In five years, my sycamore tree will be taller than I am. In one year, it will be summer.
There's this concept called sense of foreshortened future where people who have lived through trauma can't conceptualize a future for themselves because deep down they don't expect to survive, When I look forward, all I see is fire and death, melting ice and burning sky. We were raised Evangelical. All we see is Judgment Day, except there is no heaven.
But now there is a tiny gap in the wall, a crack in the door of my cell
and on the other side, I see a tree
There is, in the future, a great old sycamore tree, full of clean winds and the stir of a thousand wings. A hundred years from now. Fifty years from now. There will be forests in that world. There will be a world.
It takes courage, but we have to imagine it.
Most tree species can live in excess of three or four hundred years. I think I'm learning something. I think there are ancient voices saying hello small one, touch the dirt and the leaves, for now you are part of something that cannot die
in 2030 I will be thirty years old and the world will not have ended and there will still be hummingbirds, and we will have photos of the stars more beautiful than we can now imagine.
I planted an Eastern Redcedar; they may live nine hundred years. There will be nine hundred years. The people in that time will remember us. Maybe we will meet the aliens (hi aliens!).
I will blow out the candles on many birthday cakes in a world where there are wolves in dark forests far from home. I am learning to imagine the future. I learned recently that elk were reintroduced to the Appalachian Mountains after over a hundred years of extirpation, and that they are expanding their range.
That tiny crack I can see through now opens a tiny bit more:
Maybe elk will pass through my hometown, maybe there will be a forest where the pasture is on the high hill that I can see from my home
say it, say it, say it: ten years, thirty years, a hundred years from now
I am learning to imagine the future. There is a crack in the wall of this prison, of this machine, of this darkness, and through it, I see a tree.
today
Okay but the linguistic shenanigans that must inevitably have ensued on board the Hail Mary if Yáo and Ilyukhina had survived as well.
They keep English as their lingua franca since they all speak it and are used to it at this point, but that doesn’t stop parts of other languages from getting mixed in. Rocky borrows bits and pieces of everybody’s grammar. He asks for a word for something and no one can come up with an equivalent until Yáo offers up a Mandarin word and they just all roll with it. Rocky notices Yáo and Grace aren’t prone to cursing so he gets Ilyukhina to teach him some handy phrases and the two of them swear loudly in Russian whenever something goes wrong.
They focus their vocab-sharing sessions on English for practical reasons but in their spare time Yáo and Ilyukhina teach Rocky bits of their own languages and use them to jokingly gossip in front of Grace, who can pick out his name but not much else (and who starts trying to teach himself and Rocky to speak Klingon using the pirated files on the laptop just to get back at them).
They adopt each other’s vocabulary. They argue over translations. They create so many weird pidgins. They talk and they laugh and they share and even out here in the depths of space they keep pieces of their home cultures alive in their mingled voices.
GAMING NEWS !!
expensive
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God it’s so fucking funny that the copyright trial scene exists in the book. Literally the one scene where Grace isn’t present or narrating and it’s entirely so Stratt can have a “fuck you I’m doing what I need to save the goddamn world” moment. Andy Weir straight up broke his entire framing device solely so he could give Stratt this moment.
the insta user who came up with "refuse reform: recycle" as a count binface slogan deserves a nobel prize btw
Count Binface oozes more confidence and charisma in this 52 second clip than Farage ever has in his entire life and I'm actually going to be genuinely upset if he doesn't win.
In the book, Eva Stratt orders the antarctic to be (partially) blown up. That might have bought the world time with greenhouse gasses, but it definitely (among other things) also caused an environmental catastrophy due to rising waterlevels.
Going to such extremes isn't out of the ordinary for her, but I just remembered something else about her: Eva Stratt in the book is dutch.
The consequences of this action won't just take it's toll out of the whole of humanity eventually, Eva's home country and any loved ones that might still live there will be amongst the first impacted.
Eva Stratt once more demonstrating that she won't let herself be influenced by personal attachment to what/whoever she's sacrificing for the greater good, should the situation call for it. Tough luck Grace.
I've seen a decent amount of discussion about the acephobia/amatonormativity in Stratt's line to Grace that "You don't even have a dog," - how Grace's lack of a traditional romantic partner or offspring make him more disposable in the eyes of the world and the project.
What I haven't seen much discussion about is how it applies to her too. Eva Stratt doesn't have friends, or a family waiting for her. She doesn't have a dog either.
How many times has Eva told herself it's fine that she's going to be the world's scapegoat, because there's no one who will be hurt by her suffering either?
Ryland Grace and his popularity as a character feels like such an important step in repairing the cultural tsunami left by the long running trope of every genius character needing to be an insufferable asshole to everyone in a ten mile radios about it.
Conversely, Eva Stratt is doing wonders for repairing and inspiring a appreciation for commanding women with dubious moral convictions who are fully willing to bend laws for the greater good without hesitation.
And together they are doing brilliant things by not kissing or hooking up even once.
