Cosmic Funnies
Origami Around
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
DEAR READER
Kaledo Art
we're not kids anymore.
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blake kathryn
I'd rather be in outer space ๐ธ
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One Nice Bug Per Day
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Today's Document
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โฃ Chile in a Photography โฃ
Mike Driver
RMH
Janaina Medeiros
JBB: An Artblog!
seen from Germany
seen from Argentina
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from India
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seen from Tรผrkiye
seen from Chile
seen from Serbia
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seen from Russia
@artisannerd
here's where to find it on windows 10
Ugh, it was in mine. It's off now.
IT GETS WORSE
I had to turn this off, but it's something that allows Windows and anyone using your device to generate text/images.
LOBOTOMIZE YOUR MACHINES
AI is a freacking plague, I share this for any windows user.
Sorry to keep banging on about this! I just have a few days left to meet the funding goal!
Blumineck is trying to fun a video series doing fun and serious historical and fantasy testing in fitted plate armour.
oh fuck... the adderall has hit my system... the change, it's happening... grRRRGH...!! get away from me, before it's too late...!!
(flails on the ground, then stands up and does the dishes)
I will not elaborate.
@sergle is correct
work tomorrow is one of the worst things that can happen to you
people are always like โi have face blindness but iโm good with namesโ or โim terrible with names but i never forget a faceโ well baby idk how to tell u this but i am . bad at both.
yesterday i didnโt recognize my coworker bc he was wearing a purple shirt and im used to him wearing all black
yeah and im stomping you to death with my hooves
my husband put on a wig, in front of me, and i immediately got distressed and mad because it looked like a stranger was in our house and my ape brain wanted to attack
I once accidentally filled in a form using my internet name, went "that's not right", realised I didn't remember my legal name, panicked, and started filling it in with the names of everyone in my lab in order until I stumbled on the name that I recognised as being used for me.
awww the like button turns into a rainbow when you press it! that's so cute...hey staff what's with all the trans women you keep nuking?
i think we should be ridiculing them more for this. you don't get to try and go all "queer website" when your staff likes to go on nuking sprees targeting the trans fem users
would be remiss not to mention that the rainbow notably straight up just removed the trans flag colors from it. like theyโre gone. itโs the progress flag minus the trans flag colors.
thatโs not the whole flag, now is it
hey staff what the fuck
hey staff don't you think you're being too on-the-nose
HEY STAFF DONT YOU THINK YOU'RE BEING TOO ON-THE-NOSE
reblog to give your headache to elon musk instead
Spin the wheel. Now, imagine you're on a first date with someone who says they`re a [result]. How does this affect the odds of a second date?
100% guarantee I'll want a second date
It's significantly more likely
The odds don't change
It's significantly less likely
There wont be a second date. Absolutely not
Picker Wheel is a wheel spinner for a random picker. Various functions & customization. Enter choices or names, spin the wheel to decide a r
(anon submission)
As a trans woman I can confirm that they indeed found an ancient forest inside a 630ft deep sinkhole in China
cis people can reblog this but keep it on subject, please
Happy pride month everyone always remember that the sinkhole has an ecosystem large enough to house not only insects but likely several species of small birds or mammals
KICK THE CAN!
Letโs play the biggest game of kick the can on the internet.
To kick the can, reblog it. I wanna see how long this can go on for.
the oldest reblogs for this post that i can find are from january 2nd of 2013. this can has been getting kicked around tumblr for almost 13ยฝ years now
And yet somehow this is my first time kicking it!
iโm doing the biggest and scariest exams of my life right now and reading your posts has become my favourite study-break activity. Thank you for keeping me sane!
Good luck!! Have a token, like a messed up lady and her studious knight.
"Is this part of the exam?"
"Excuse me?" The villain turned to stare at the protagonist, startled. They did not look like the sort of person who was easily started.
"The entrance exam?" the protagonist asked. "For the hero academy?"
The villain, for that was surely what they were, blinked.
The protagonist's head tilted.
"No," the villain said. "I - no. What?"
"I suppose you would have to say that," the protagonist said. "So we take it seriously."
"You wouldn't normally take being kidnapped seriously?"
"It was just a question."
"This is real," the villain said, slow and deliberate, like the protagonist was being particularly stupid. "This isn't a test."
"Oh," the protagonist said. "Sorry."
"You won't be hurt so long as you co-operate-"
The protagonist slipped the ropes free behind their back and shook out their wrists.
The villain's eyes widened.
The protagonist shrugged, apologetic. "Hero academy," they said, as if that explained everything. Which, really, it should. What kind of self-respecting would-be hero couldn't get out of ropes in a tough spot?
"Right," the villain said. "You're a wannabe hero. Do you know who I am?"
"I don't know," the protagonist said. "A bad guy who kidnaps people?"
"I'm Malefix."
That gave the protagonist pause. Nerves tightened in the pit of their belly. A creeping horror. There was no way, was there, that the world's leading supervillain would be helping out on an entrance exam.
No. No way. Absolutely not. It wasn't Malefix, it was some wannabe liar. The thought was comforting. They gave the villain a pitying look.
"Are you though?" the protagonist asked, slow and deliberate, like the villain was being particularly stupid. "Why would Malefix be kidnapping me?"
"Because your magical energy readings are off the chart. Shouldn't someone applying to hero academy know that?"
The protagonist stared at the supervillain.
The supervillain stared back.
Nah. No way.
"I still think this is a test," the protagonist said. "It's not like my powers are particularly cool or anything. I'm not the Justiciar."
"Oh for-" The villain closed their eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. They lifted a hand, dark energy warping out of their palm. The room around them turned dark and cold and the protagonist was filled with the most profound sense of doom. Their knees went wobbly.
Actually Malefix. Shit. Hot damn. Wow.
"Huh," the protagonist managed. They released a steadying breath as the villain's power faded. "How did they get you to help with the entrance exams?"
"This isn't an entrance exam!"
"Well, it's going to have to be, because I plan to start next September, the protagonist said, a little shrill. "I don't have time to be kidnapped. The Admissions Department might call me!"
"Were you dropped on your head as a child?!"
"That's not a very professional thing to say! That's mean."
"Oh dear god." The supervillain began to laugh. Not funny laugh. Sort of like they were having a crisis. "You know what. Yeah. This is a test. Congratulations. You passed."
The protagonist sagged in relief and triumph.
"I knew it! Will you write me a recommendation letter?"
"...You want a recommendation letter from a supervillain for hero college?"
"Who better to convince the Admissions Team that I'll be a terrifying asset? It's not like anything usually happens here. Best I got was a convenience store robbery and someone's cat in a tree."
"That poor robber."
The protagonist nodded. "I think I did a good job. To the police department with minimal damage. Come on. Please? Villains like pleading don't they? Please."
The villain considered them, expression unreadable once more. As cool as they had been when they walked in. Then, they dragged a hand over their face and walked over to the desk. "Have you got paper? For the letter?"
"Who uses paper? Jesus. Take my laptop. How old are you?"
The villain raised an eyebrow. "Do they have a unit on cyber-security at hero school?"
"I think so," the hero said, handing the villain their computer. Their brow furrowed. "It's the combat I'm excited for though! I'm not that good in a fight. I always feel a little mean. But I'm sure it will help if they deserve it."
"And how will you prove you didn't just write this letter yourself?"
"Don't you have like an official email or something?"
The villain's lip twitched.
"It's not funny," the protagonist said. "This is my education on the line."
"I'm sure I'd feel worse about it if you didn't ruin my kidnapping."
"Ooh. Can I have that quoted?"
"Paper. Now."
The protagonist sighed, but found a notebook stuffed in the back of the drawer. "I'm not sure how this proves it's you more than an email."
The villain ignored them, setting to work.
The protagonist craned, trying to see.
"I will put you through the wall," the villain said. "If you keep crowding me."
The protagonist considered, then stepped back, reluctantly.
"Wise choice," the villain said. "I was starting to wonder if you were capable of them."
"Hey!"
The villain handed them the notebook back.
The protagonist immediately flipped to the right page, a little worried at how long and glowing such a letter could be, when the villain did it so fast.
To whom it may concern
If you don't take them, they will be worse than me. Also update your security and containment procedures.
Yours in bemusement
M
"Hey," the protagonist said, "do you think maybe-"
They looked up.
The villain was gone.
The morning after they received the letter, the Head of School called them up personally.
Needless to say, the protagonist got in.
๐๐ HAPPY BIRTHDAY @mari-monsta / @mari-cherri !!!!!! ๐๐
AND ALSO HAPPY PRIDE!!!!! TRANSFEM ADRIEN UPON YE
Where do you see yourself in 5 years?
Look buddy, iโm just trying to make it to Friday.
reblog if its friday and you made it
i've seen enough horror movies starring upper-middle-income white families stuck in spacious haunted mansions. gimme stories about millennials stuck in haunted studio apartments. consider the realism:
why is this protagonist staying in an obviously haunted building despite the glaring warning signs? because a week at a motel would send them spiraling into credit card debt, they'll take their chances with the vengeful spirits. why did they chose this apartment complex to begin with, despite the many many unexplained mysterious deaths that show up on the first page of a google search? hon some of us don't have the credit score to move away from high (paranormal) crime areas. how could i be so careless as to sign a soul-binding contract with a demonic entity? bitch they're called LANDLORDS
okay :)
i had gotten a dog, so the dog was a factor. dogs have to be the right size and shape. under 50 pounds. please see our restricted breeds list. he sleeps most of the time, a well-behaved menace. he's big because i'm single in the city and it gets dark here early - but i've had to trade that sense of safety for scrambling-for-housing.
cheerfully i report that i live in a hole! because humor, like vicks, soothes what-is-horrible. the windows are painted shut. the fridge sometimes just shuts off for no reason. there are only 2 working stove burners and they're not in the front. for some reason, rust is everywhere, no matter whether it makes sense for an area to rust. the door in the bathroom has a very badly-patched hole; white-yellow stark against the bad cherry vinyl.
okay. it's what i can afford. the pamphlet had said new england nepenthes(TM) apartments: a beautiful place to grow up. and yes, it's ground-floor, which isn't ideal. so we (my dog and i) have successfully secured the door with one of those big prybars that are 50 dollars. also i usually balance something heavy near any possible entrances - i want to be awake when they fall. you know, during the break-in.
for the first four months, i didn't notice. there had been so much to do in those four months. okay, our (okay, my, he doesn't pay rent) kitchen is literally four tiles wide and undivided from the other spaces. the dining room and office are also the living room (which is. also the kitchen). my bed is too big for the bedroom; i can either have it weirdly against the wall with a door (horrible) or i have to give up opening my closet all the way.
my mama raised me on martha stewart, so. it's quiet here, i love the location, and even if it's rundown, i can make it work. i buy peel-and-stick reusable wallpaper that has long lines to make it look like everything is taller. i move the plants around, trying to get them into the most sun. i put up shelves and hope that i'll have enough spackle later to cover up the worst mistakes i've made with the nail gun. and hey! the location. like the pamphlet said: a beautiful place to grow up.
it's in the middle of putting up our new wrought iron plant holders. i have adhd, time when i'm focused can pass ephemerally. oh shit, i realize. it's 9:30 in the evening. i am probably keeping people awake with all the drilling. fuck. my bad. i tilt an ear upstairs, waiting. nobody slamming the floor with a broom. nobody shouting. maybe quiet hours are at 10 and they're just waiting.
the holders are real wrought iron because my plants weigh a lot. i press the last one above my head, against the pilot holes. now i feel bad about the time. i should just wrap up this last one i'm attaching and then go to bed. if i wait, i'll forget in the morning. distracted, i look down to where i've left the screws on my desk (which is often also my dining room table and art station), and, as if the wall spat the screws out, the iron slips out of my grasp and cracks me hard against my nose before tumbling down to the floor.
fuck.
one of the worst things about living alone is when you get hurt. sparks jump in front of me. my eyes start tearing. fuck! i've broken my nose before, this feels like that. fuck fuck fuck. maybe it's not broken?
i have to hobble off the stool, trying to hold my nose while also not wanting to touch it. i do the first adult thing i can think of - call a bigger adult.
hey mama. i pant into the phone. no worries but how do i know if i broke my nose?
30 minutes later, we have decided it hurt but if i don't have a black eye, the nose is fine. it was already out of alignment anyway. i say the whole sordid story to her, and then i add i just feel bad i lost track of time, it's weird none of my neighbors complained.
as soon as i hang up, i hear the upstairs neighbors, with their quiet feet and soft, muffled voices. i hear people to the right and left of me. i hear them murmuring to each other. someone watches bad tv, i can hear the reality show music-to-dramatic-shouting.
i put ice on my face. i google nose break again just to be sure. i ask my dog if he thinks i look ugly, he responds by putting his three paws into the air and asking for a tummy rub. as part of our nightly ritual, i examine and worry about his amputation, even though it's completely healed up. i still do the physical therapy exercises with him. just in case. just to keep him warmed up.
later in bed, i am reaching to turn on gentle rain for white noise before i realize - huh. i think this evening is the first time i've ever actually heard anyone.
you ever have a thought that gets inside of you? i mean, yeah. of course you do, i guess all thoughts are inside you. but once in a while, don't you get one of those haha funny! thoughts that turns. bad. you know, when you've watched a scary movie and close the laptop and think it's not likely there's a killer in there, but have i ever really checked that deeply in the kitchen sink?
i was always the type to check. just in case. to put my mind at ease.
the thought is there when i wake up, like i'd had it for a while: i never actually see anyone coming and going.
the apartment complex is 12 buildings, staggered like spokes on a clock. i live in 6, the furthest from the road. we are spaced unevenly, but when i first saw it, i thought huh. what a nice quiet community. the grass is green and there are never any leaves. i've never seen someone come mow it. there are cars here, plenty. when was the last time you counted which cars are in the communal lot?
isn't it weird how you're always able to snag that one last spot?
i keep weird hours, is all. i laugh at the thought of it. there was a post on tumblr once that asked how long would it take you to realize the building was entirely empty. but it can't be empty, right? at night, when i can see into other people's apartments, i catch sight of the thousand ways other people decorate. blue LED lights or tapestries or nice curtains. so it is silly to think about that post, when i know other people are here. this is someone else's home.
i mention it to my sister when she comes over to help me move the couch purposelessly around before we both decide it was better where i'd originally had it. nobody, like, lives here. i say. it's weird. i've been here for five months, and i don't see anyone.
she shrugs. maybe it's too expensive for the area, or not really advertised enough. maybe most people my age keeping my hours don't like to live in apartments. who is to say.
after that, the shadows start. my dog and i go on our nighttime walk, and then i see the apartments come to life. the flickered silhouettes of them. the flash of tvs and laptops. the gauzy shape of others just-far-enough i can't quite make out their form. they walk away from the windows if i get close enough.
they must not know how to do it right. every third day, the animations repeat.
oh, i get it. i think. i'm living in a horror novel.
i'm cuban. my culture can be superstitious, yes. but it also means that i have been taught to keep my head on a swivel. we do not fuck with this shit. we do not oujia board the spirits for fun. we do not make a joke about the killer. we do not ever tempt fate, her ears are open-and-listening.
my lease is for one year. it's been five months, that's not that much longer. i can't afford to break it (or to move) at the moment. and, again, the dog factor. and i do love the location.
but once it is obvious, it is so obvious. i try to pay my rent by check just the once, but when i swing by the rental office, the whole floor of the building is dark. there is no cheerful team of realtors, only a single dark panel over door. due to unexpected circumstances, we are currently operating elsewhere. i go online and pay there instead.
no one here hosts parties. the mail truck never seems to come to any of the other buildings. my dog doesn't like going near certain places. i discover a 5-foot radius where my phone will always hang up on the person i'm talking with, even if i have service.
i watch carefully, while also pretending i am not watching. i check my mail, waiting for the electricity bill that never comes calling. in the front hall, amazon packages come with names too smudged for me to ever quite read. sanchez, maybe. then, to the same apartment a week later: tawny reed. it's different again the third week. i stop looking, feeling like i'm prying.
i mention how quiet it is here during the day to one of my bosses, and then the upstairs neighbor appears. her alarm goes off when mine does, almost like an echo. when i change my song, it takes her a few days to keep up. i had said something offhand about how i'm the only one with a dog. then, upstairs - the little patter of dog paws.
at night, i start seeing people on my dog walking route. they pace, insubstantial, something black at the end of their lead. their waving arms always bent at right angles, like they are figuring out how to navigate being 3D. i always wave back, cheerfully. i keep my headphones in. they are over there in the mist that-does-not-belong, and i am over here in the light-that-flickers-on-and-off. i do not need to make a scene about this. there are many reasons people might dissolve into nothing. it is not any of my business.
the upstairs girl smokes. i see her with her (pomeranian? poodle?) little rat-rabbit-dog (? dog in the loosest sense of the word), her legs up on the stoop. she always goes inside when i show up to our building, after giving me one of those straight side-to-side waves. i can never quite make out her features. she won't be there when i leave for our walk, but she'll be there when we get back, no matter how long my walk takes. she watching me, her eyes dark. she sits there, smoking, wearing galaxy-print leggings. the little dog running near her. (sometimes the dog is not there, until i look again, and it is. i must have just missed it, or maybe it was hiding under one of the trim little bushes. not my concern, whatever it is.)
i know she smokes, i can see the red glow and smell it on the air after. but there are no places to dispose of the butts and she never leaves behind any litter. so she must be careful with them, which i appreciate. cigarettes are bad for the environment. i am in no place to judge someone for their vices anyway. during the day, sometimes i hear her dog (a corgi? a terrier?) whine, this thin, reedy sound, like someone gasping for breath. like someone buried alive. a howl like dread. sometimes it even sounds human; garbled and anxious, bow wow wow warping into help help help.
but i'm sure my dog whines when i'm gone, too. i will not report her for this, because it's not her fault. and i don't want to get her in trouble. after all, we all love our dogs so much.
when i write a request for maintenance to help me with ants, i get a bounce-back error. three days later, we wake up, and a sea of dead ant bodies litter my carpet. an inch deep, they float on each other's backs, a black blanket.
i vacuum them up. i feel bad about their little ant souls. i tell them i am sorry. i will light a candle. i tell myself - this is no different than calling an exterminator. to remove yourself from the process is an act of careful self-duplicity - we would have been killing the ants another way, and just anticipating someone else handle the transaction.
how do i call someone about this? i cannot break the lease because i think the others here are ghosts. or my other theory: maybe the whole thing is a carnivore, and i am in the belly, already beginning to rot.
we cannot afford to move, it's only been six months. the heat and the lights stay on. i never invite others over. it feels wrong. we are alone here, the way we should be alone here. this is our place, for me and my dog and the rest of us. we are supposed to be here. we are supposed to live here, in this little hole-in-the-ground apartment.
we are not under any form of threat, anyway. i light candles and say the prayers our father taught us. we keep our distance from the mist ones, and adopt their way of waving, side-to-side. it is starting to look less like a wave and more like beckoning. come on, come on. something keeps us locking our door. we put up more wrought iron, even after it hit us so hard-on-the-face, which wasn't fun, and was very mean. maybe we should take it down - except i know it was so much effort to put up. oh the tub leaks and the freezer has begin to lock while it's shut. our boss says we look pale these days. we blame insomnia. it's just that it's so quiet here, sometimes. we like to make ourselves go very-quiet too, like a mouse. and then we turn that horrible white-noise machine on. we are so strange; we push salt down the drains and into our doorways, which is a waste and a bad thing to do. we do not look into the electricity problem. we fix the lightbulb without complaint. we do not send in new notices to maintenance, even when the rust on the walls starts running. we get fabulosa and scrub everything. we do not make a fuss. when our neighbors that have-no-jaw open the door for us, we keep our eyes on our dog and say thank you! and make polite small-talk. when they garble their responses let your welcome out, (no throat but the sound's so loud?)-we say haha yeah and scoot by the cold spot. we help others get their groceries out of the car even though the bags smell rotten. we do not use the basement laundry room with the single pale yellow lightbulb, even though it is so friendly and warm and free; we drive elsewhere for that, which might be lazy of me. whenever we leave, we take our dog, even though he would be fine alone, surrounded by the strange creep of rust. we are kind, and not frenzied. isn't that strange? shouldn't we be frenzied? there have been so many odd things here, shouldn't we be reacting? instead we sit in our apartment and say, casually - oh, i'm fine. how fun! how interesting. are we waiting for something? if we're waiting, which of us is hiding and which of us is hunting? we count our days on the lease - six months left! we can grow to enjoy it here. it has its quirks, but hey. sometimes staying for the location is reason-enough.
and we love it here. it's a beautiful place to grow up.
alright I've got to do some quick math to explain attitudes towards AI to my boss.
we're looking to create an AI policy, and when we were talking about this, my boss (older millennial) was genuinely shocked to hear that younger people do not (seem) to view AI positively (a la the recent commencement speakers being booed)
please rb for larger sample size!
Question 1/3
What is your age, and do you feel AI is a net positive or net negative in our lives today?
under 18, AI is a net positive
under 18, AI is a net negative
18-29, AI is a net positive
18-29, AI is a net negative
30-45, AI is a net positive
30-45, AI is a net negative
46-60, AI is a net positive
46-60, AI is a net negative
over 60, AI is a net postive
over 60, AI is a net negative
Question 2/3
How often do you visit or interact with museums/archives (whether in person or online)?
Frequently (multiple times per month)
Often (multiple times per year)
Occasionally (a couple times per year)
Rarely (once every couple of years)
Never :(
Question 3/3
If you saw a museum was using AI in exhibits, marketing, research, etc., would you be more or less inclined to visit that museum?
under 18, more inclined
under 18, less inclined
18-29, more inclined
18-29, less inclined
30-45, more inclined
30-45, less inclined
46-60, more inclined
46-60, less inclined
over 60, more inclined
over 60, less inclined
Thank you for helping with this data collection. Please rb for as big a sample as possible!
๐ซถ
A snapshot of one morning, on a relaxed day with mild weather. Now imagine this when it's crowded or when it's raining or snowing.
Video description below
