Anytime i see a bunch of pride flags i have to restrain myself from saying "where mexico" bc i doubt anyone will know I'm referencing this
picture i got at pride last week; here mexico
This is very dumb but hey

#extradirty

izzy's playlists!
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Peter Solarz
styofa doing anything
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Cosimo Galluzzi

if i look back, i am lost

roma★
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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Show & Tell
Xuebing Du

titsay

ellievsbear
Sweet Seals For You, Always

Product Placement

oozey mess
sheepfilms
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@dish-licker
Anytime i see a bunch of pride flags i have to restrain myself from saying "where mexico" bc i doubt anyone will know I'm referencing this
picture i got at pride last week; here mexico
This is very dumb but hey
aftercare for posting on ao3
your fic was good you did grammar good you’re the kind of freak people like everything’s cool dude :^)
Flametext “asexual pervert”
I’m not doing all that so you just have to imagine
She got the idea for the study while walking with her advisor at Stanford to discuss her thesis topic, and the paper she eventually published in the Journal of Experimental Psychology in 2014 is sharp enough that it should have ended the seated meeting on the day it came out.
She ran 4 experiments on 176 people. Same person tested twice. Once sitting, once walking. The creativity tasks were the standard ones psychologists have used for decades to measure how good a brain is at generating novel useful ideas.
81% of participants in the first experiment produced more creative ideas while walking than while sitting. In the second experiment, 88%. In the third, 100%. Every single person walked into a more creative version of themselves. On average, people generated 60% more novel useful ideas the moment their legs started moving.
The skeptical question is the obvious one. Maybe it was the fresh air. Maybe it was the scenery passing by. Maybe it was the change of environment doing the work, not the walking itself.
Oppezzo killed every one of those explanations with one experimental decision. She put people on a treadmill facing a blank wall. No scenery. No fresh air. No environmental change. Just legs moving in place while staring at white drywall. The 60% boost held.
Then she ran the experiment that closed the case completely. She took participants outside in two conditions. Half of them walked through a Stanford courtyard. The other half were pushed through the exact same courtyard in a wheelchair. Same outdoor stimulation. Same scenery passing at the same speed. The only difference was whether the legs were moving.
The walkers produced dramatically more novel high-quality ideas than the wheelchair group. The outdoors did almost nothing on its own. The walking did everything.
She also tested the opposite kind of thinking. Convergent thinking. The kind where there is one right answer and you have to narrow down to it. Word puzzles where 3 words share a hidden fourth word that connects them. The seated participants did slightly better on these. Walkers got slightly worse.
Walking is not a general intelligence enhancer. It does one specific thing. It opens up the divergent search inside your brain. The part that generates options. The part that produces unexpected connections. The part that takes a problem and finds five ways into it instead of one.
When you need to converge on the single right answer, sit down. When you need to find the answer in the first place, get up.
The mechanism is now well understood. Walking selectively activates what neuroscientists call the default mode network, the system inside your brain that runs when you are not consciously focused on anything. The DMN is where mind-wandering happens. Where memories cross-reference each other. Where ideas that have been sitting in separate folders inside your head finally bump into each other.
When you sit at a desk and force yourself to concentrate, you suppress the DMN. When you walk at a natural pace, the executive part of your brain gets just busy enough handling the walking that the DMN comes online and starts doing the work that focus was blocking.
The most useful finding in the entire paper is the one almost nobody quotes. The boost did not turn off the moment people stopped walking. Participants who walked first and then sat back down stayed elevated. Their next round of seated creativity work was still significantly better than people who had been sitting the whole time. The rest lingered for at least several minutes after the legs stopped moving.
You do not need to do creative work while walking. You need to walk before the creative work. The brain holds the state.
Edited down a long tweet. (x)
what if wifi symbols and binary were holy
Something's gotten into my game of Hades. Now they're trying to give me cards.
I had the opportunity to help work on the Fantastic Mr. Fox Reanimated hosted by @/cat.glass ! The full thing is up on youtube!
If criminals don't get to have human rights, then the people in charge of deciding what a criminal is get to decide who is and is not human. Do you understand? Is this not blindingly obvious? Do you care?
Or do you assume you will always be "one of the good ones"?
A story in three parts
this is so cool!!
tumblr users love reading. you literally stopped for this post just because it has words in it
this is one of my favorite bits about tumblr
the users seem to actually prefer text posts to anything else, and treat it as a chore to play a video especially with sound
i think something that is often overlooked in conversations about platonic and romantic relationships in media and the argument that “two people can just be friends” is that a big part of being queer, for me personally at least, is that i am deeply in love with my friends and would do absolutely anything for them and this sentiment alone opposes the heteronormative idea that your friends are supposed to play a secondary role in your life after a certain point. my friends are not just my friends. they’re not just anything. they’re my friends.
slightly nsfw clayjack under the cut. its fine you cant really see anything-- just to be safe
if he was still alive I know in my heart that Terry Pratchett would have done a bit about Igors and Igorinas doing gender confirmation surgery by now. going into a lab full of bubbling vials and picking out a penis from a tank the way you pick a lobster. that one, please. you gotta be careful though because they'll really try to upsell you into getting two or three installed. people going to the clinic as pairs and just having parts swapped out for a discounted rate. maybe you actually just trade brains, that's even easier. Igorth have already been doing that thurgery for thenturieth.
#one day an igor forgets the lock the cage and a pack of penises escapes into ankh-morpork#the watch spends the next three weeks rounding them up
how DARE you leave this in the tags (affectionate)
Everyone knew it was best not to look too closely at Igor's jars.
Vimes was beginning to wish he had looked more closely at the most recent additions before Igor came lurching up the stairs to inform him:
"They have ethcaped, thir."
"Escaped. What has escaped, Igor."
"Thome of my.. appendageth, thir."
"Appendages."
"Yeth, thir. Of the... intimate variety."
"Of the intimate..." Vimes trailed off as the dawning horror overwhelmed his vocal cords.
He rallied. "Igor. HOW have they escaped? They are not known for their... perambulatory abilities."
"Really, thir? I've alwayth found them to have a mind of their own at timeth."
Vimes was staying calm. Yes. That was it. He was staying very calm. Definitely NOT thinking AT ALL about how Vetinari and... Good lord, The Times, would react to marauding pack of penises. Would it be a pack? Or would they go off on their own?
"I wath exthperimenting with cuthtom grown oneth, you know. For thothe who cannot grow their own."
"Err... what? Of course you were. I mean. Very good."
Pictured: An Igor harvesting appendages
#[a loud crash is heard from the lab] #[another igor runs past with a giant butterfly net. stopping briefly at the door to shriek 'THE VULVATHS''] (via @the-wave-finally-broke)
It turns out to be a brilliant feat of advertisement, as the people too shy or uncertain to go visit Igor rightaway effectively get a chance to discretely window-shop in public.
An unfortunate side effect being that a small girl, denied of her rightful need to be a Horse Girl by the limitations of being a native Ankh-Morpork child[1], would have adopted one of the larger Appendages of the pack and named it Free Willy. Her insistence that she could understand her pet through a bond of mutual sympathy was both touching and troubling, as was her announcement that Free Willy did not want to be attached to a governing body and forced into service, saddled with clothing, or made to perform tricks for audiences. With no Igor having the heart [2] to take it from her, the child was allowed to keep Free Willy, who lived for five healthy years in her family’s pigeon loft and eventually passed away from natural causes after a battle with another fighting cock. The child went on to write a well-acclaimed children’s book, The Willy that Would Be Free, which was, necessarily, a pop-up book.
[1] where an ordinary working class child CAN form a magical bond with a horse, in the form of a pie, labeled as beef.
[2] ha
Look, it got longer.
So did Free Willy.
Discworld Heritage Post
if he was still alive I know in my heart that Terry Pratchett would have done a bit about Igors and Igorinas doing gender confirmation surgery by now. going into a lab full of bubbling vials and picking out a penis from a tank the way you pick a lobster. that one, please. you gotta be careful though because they'll really try to upsell you into getting two or three installed. people going to the clinic as pairs and just having parts swapped out for a discounted rate. maybe you actually just trade brains, that's even easier. Igorth have already been doing that thurgery for thenturieth.
#one day an igor forgets the lock the cage and a pack of penises escapes into ankh-morpork#the watch spends the next three weeks rounding them up
how DARE you leave this in the tags (affectionate)
Everyone knew it was best not to look too closely at Igor's jars.
Vimes was beginning to wish he had looked more closely at the most recent additions before Igor came lurching up the stairs to inform him:
"They have ethcaped, thir."
"Escaped. What has escaped, Igor."
"Thome of my.. appendageth, thir."
"Appendages."
"Yeth, thir. Of the... intimate variety."
"Of the intimate..." Vimes trailed off as the dawning horror overwhelmed his vocal cords.
He rallied. "Igor. HOW have they escaped? They are not known for their... perambulatory abilities."
"Really, thir? I've alwayth found them to have a mind of their own at timeth."
Vimes was staying calm. Yes. That was it. He was staying very calm. Definitely NOT thinking AT ALL about how Vetinari and... Good lord, The Times, would react to marauding pack of penises. Would it be a pack? Or would they go off on their own?
"I wath exthperimenting with cuthtom grown oneth, you know. For thothe who cannot grow their own."
"Err... what? Of course you were. I mean. Very good."
Pictured: An Igor harvesting appendages
#[a loud crash is heard from the lab] #[another igor runs past with a giant butterfly net. stopping briefly at the door to shriek 'THE VULVATHS''] (via @the-wave-finally-broke)
It turns out to be a brilliant feat of advertisement, as the people too shy or uncertain to go visit Igor rightaway effectively get a chance to discretely window-shop in public.
An unfortunate side effect being that a small girl, denied of her rightful need to be a Horse Girl by the limitations of being a native Ankh-Morpork child[1], would have adopted one of the larger Appendages of the pack and named it Free Willy. Her insistence that she could understand her pet through a bond of mutual sympathy was both touching and troubling, as was her announcement that Free Willy did not want to be attached to a governing body and forced into service, saddled with clothing, or made to perform tricks for audiences. With no Igor having the heart [2] to take it from her, the child was allowed to keep Free Willy, who lived for five healthy years in her family’s pigeon loft and eventually passed away from natural causes after a battle with another fighting cock. The child went on to write a well-acclaimed children’s book, The Willy that Would Be Free, which was, necessarily, a pop-up book.
[1] where an ordinary working class child CAN form a magical bond with a horse, in the form of a pie, labeled as beef.
[2] ha
Look, it got longer.
So did Free Willy.
Discworld Heritage Post