Wearing my @lingthusiasm IPA rainbow scarf for the first day of pride month in the office! 😄
It looks sooo good!! 🌈
(btw here's where the rainbow IPA scarves come from)
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@guardiankarenterrier
Wearing my @lingthusiasm IPA rainbow scarf for the first day of pride month in the office! 😄
It looks sooo good!! 🌈
(btw here's where the rainbow IPA scarves come from)
This doesn’t include the best bit of the whole thing - she found the Twitter thread!
This is like one of those romance novels where people bond over accidentally writing each other emails but better.
Like Pride and Prejudice but instead of the love interest getting dissed for his toxicity and then reforming, it’s just two people bonding over dissing a dead toxic asshole.
10/10 would recommend
under US law, it's illegal for anyone who's not a member of a recognised native tribe to own an eagle feather. the penalty is a $100,000 fine.
14 years ago when I had recently moved to Alaska, I went hiking with an Aleut friend, and she pointed to a feather lying on the ground and said "hey that's a bald eagle tail feather, you should grab it!" and I was like "uhh I'm very white and that's very illegal" and she went "they're fuckin everywhere up here man. I have 20." so she grabs it off the ground and hands it to me and says "there, now it's a ceremonial gift from an indigenous person."
and I'm like, okay, cool, I guess this is how we do things in Alaska. nice.
so I keep this bald eagle tail feather around for years. display it in my home among other cherished memorabilia from places I've lived and visited, etc.
on a whim, I have just now looked it up. there is no exemption to that law for a ceremonial gift from an indigenous person. the last 7 years I lived in the US, I was technically a bald eagle poacher.
probably a good thing I don't intend to move back there anytime soon. I wonder what the statute of limitations is on bird crimes.
@freedomisscaryshit I'm fucking dying I think you forgot the word "feathers" in your tags?? or do you just wish you could grab whole ass eagles that land in your yard??
As an Indigenous person, it continues to astound me that there are such strict laws (written by White people) in our name, laws against...picking up things just found on the ground. Like, stop pretending this is "for" us. We don't want this.
so, for clarity, that's not what this is. the law against possessing feathers is an anti-poaching measure, derived from a North American treaty protecting certain migratory bird species from hunting. that treaty has an exemption for indigenous people to allow tribes that use eagle feathers in ceremonial or religious practices to continue doing so.
i used to collect feathers (illegally) as a teenager and the thing is that it's incredibly important for feathers from wild birds to be illegal to possess because it ensures that they never become fashionable to wear. the reason we passed the migratory bird act was because the american and european fashion industry was driving species to extinction in a timespan of years. not just decades. the ecological devastation of exporting birds for hats was absolutely insane and people were watching wetlands and forests and meadows just empty out in realtime. look at the wikipedia article for the plume trade.
the law against 'picking feathers up off the ground' means that you can't go shoot an eagle then sell the feathers on etsy by saying you 'just found them'. you can't own them no matter where they came from, which makes sure that they're not going to come from any birds killed and then secretly disposed of.
these laws, as harsh and ridiculous as they seem, saved flamingos, spoonbills, egrets, and all kinds of hawks and eagles from extinction. the minute these laws weaken and people can make money off killing them again, they're fucked.
this is one of those "no actually this regulation exists for a reason" laws much like work place safety and building fire codes (that Republicans keep trying to roll back) and is written in blood just like them as well. it's just not human blood this time, and the fact that people actually cared enough about long term future over short term profit to get it put in place is nothing short of astonishing. That it didn't get put in place in time to save several species is heart breaking.
I am so tired of short-attention-span, trim-the-fat culture. All writing advice these days is for how to write like Chuck Palahniuk. "Cut 'think', cut 'feel', cut 'wonder' - only action, only pushing forward, show and move and move and move." What if I could emulate this style, and still don't want to? What if I want to write like Henry James, with three paragraphs of introspective musings between each dialogue line? The music advice is, "make it shortform, make it Tik-Tok compatible, make it punchy, hit the refrain as soon as possible." What if I want that 10-minute prog rock piece? What if I want that symphony? What if I want it slow and luxurious and lazy? Movies. Series. Poetry. Bodies. Everything is "trimmed trimmed trimmed trimmed, stripped bare, you have three seconds to win me over, make it airport chic." I don't want to win you over, then, I guess. I want the fat left it. I want the pleasure and the indolence and the indulgence. Fuck this art-advice that's always "your art needs Ozempic."
unauthorized fucking thing!!!!!!
(warning: loud chirping throughout)
source: hellgate osprey cam
More context:
the first osprey is the father, the one that comes later is the mother.
ospreys are not eagles, they're ospreys
ospreys only eat fish, that's why they don't register this starling as possible food
the starling got home safely
the starling was not trying to eat the eggs, it was mostly curious and you can see it trying to hop under the osprey every time the osprey tries to sit down again--this is because the starling is still a baby and has the instinct to get under an adult for warmth, even though it mostly has its feathers. this scares the osprey because that is a Foreign Creature near its eggs.
at the end of the video you can see the ospreys starting to turn the eggs. birds do this so the yolk and/or embryo don't stick to the shell of the egg, which is bad for the egg's health.
ospreys have eyes adapted to seeing beneath the surface of the water!
Did you play AD&D? I can't remember how old you are, so hopefully that's not too offensive. If so, was a typical game really as hostile as people say it was?
That's one of those question where the answer hovers somewhere between "no, with a couple of massive caveats" and "yes, but not in the way most people think".
A lot of AD&D 1st Edition's GMing practices are pretty hardass by modern standards; however, they need to be understood in the context that the game's authors were writing for a target audience who mainly played the game in college wargaming clubs, where players would frequently transfer between groups and group sizes tended to be very large – six players per GM was considered a bare minimum, and up to a dozen player characters in a single party was by no means unheard of!
In particular, players would often bring their character sheets with them when hopping between groups, and it was considered a faux pas for a GM to reject an incoming player's existing character or request any substantive changes be made, so managing expectations could be quite challenging; even as late as 2nd Edition, the Dungeon Master's Guide contains extensive discussion of how to gracefully handle players bringing existing characters with them who aren't necessarily a good fit for the present game's tone or resource economy.
The upshot is that the culture of play these iterations of Dungeons & Dragons are targeting inherently obliges the GM to take a much firmer hand to keep things on track than a pickup game that draws players exclusively from within the GM's established friend group might – and to be sure, some GMs abused these expectations to act like petty tyrants, but some contemporary GMs do that, too.
A big part of the modern perception that 1E and 2E were extraordinarily player hostile, meanwhile, has nothing to do with the previously discussed GMing practices; rather, it emerges from the transition away from that culture of play in a slightly unexpected way.
In brief, back when D&D was mainly played by wargaming clubs, it was fashionable to run pre-written adventure modules competitively at conventions; the competition wasn't between players, but between parties, with multiple groups running the same adventure in parallel to contend for prizes. Tournament play sometimes chose its winners based on the fastest real-time completion of the module in question, or set specific objectives within the module which would award points when completed, a bit like speed-running or achievement-hunting in a video game (though neither practice existed yet at the time).
It was the survival module, however, that quickly emerged as the most popular tournament format. In a survival tournament, each player would provide or was furnished with a binder containing a fixed number of pre-generated character sheets, switching to the next character sheet in the set as each preceding character died; the winning group was the one whose last surviving character's corpse hit the dirt furthest from the dungeon entrance.
Many of 1E's most popular adventure modules, including the infamous Tomb of Horrors, were originally written as survival modules to be run at tournaments in conventions. As such, they were designed to kill off player characters both quickly and efficiently, so as to reduce the likelihood that the tournament would run overtime and get kicked out of the convention venue. When they were later cleanup and repackaged as commercial adventure modules, their text rarely bothered to explain any of this – who doesn't recognise a survival module when they see one?
The answer to that question, of course, is kids who didn't come up through the mentorship system of the college wargaming clubs, but taught themselves how to play D&D from first principles using books they bought at their local hobby stores – and when D&D's popularity unexpectedly exploded in the early 1980s, there were suddenly rather a lot of them!
These kids purchased the repackaged survival modules along with all their other D&D books; having no frame of reference, they assumed that these represented what a "standard" D&D adventure was supposed to look like – and since they weren't experienced players with whole binders full of pre-generated backup characters at their fingertips, the result was a lot of seemingly unfair total party kills, and a lot of kids concluding that the previous generation's GMs must have been objectively insane.
There is an additional amusing point of order here, which is the answer to the following two questions. I once had a discussion with someone in Gary Gygax's gaming group, who was involved in early TSR work a bit. Allow me to paraphrase my questions and his answers.
Why publish survival modules as your primary format of published adventure?
"Because that's what we had -- they were already laid out for publication. Why not publish them and make some money off it?"
Did it ever occur to you at the time that publishing adventures like these would shape the larger D&D culture's expectations of what play was supposed to look like?
"No, why would it?"
One of my favorite anecdotes about early D&D, from Blog of Holding:
"It’s hard to get that context just from reading the original Dungeons and Dragons books. If nine groups learned D&D from the books, they’d end up playing nine different games.
"Mornard told us about an early D&D tournament game – possibly in the first Gen Con in Parkside in 1978? Gary Gygax was DMing nine tournament teams successively through the same module, and whoever got the furthest in the dungeon would win. You’d expect this to take all day, and so Mike was surprised to see Gary, looking shaken, wandering through the hallways at about 2 PM. Mike bought Gary a beer and asked him what had happened – wasn’t he supposed to be DMing right now?
“It’s over!” replied a stunned Gary Gygax.
"Gary described how the first group had fared. Walking down the first staircase into the dungeon, the first rank of fighters suddenly disappeared through a black wall. There was a quiet whoosh, and a quiet thud. The players conferred, and then they sent the second rank forward, who disappeared too. The rest of the players followed.
"The same thing happened to the next tournament team, and the next. Players filed into the unknown, one after another. And they were all killed. The wall was an illusion, and behind it was a pit. Eight out of the nine groups had thrown themselves like lemmings over a cliff; only one group had thought to tap around with a ten foot pole. That group passed the first obstacle, so they won the tournament.
"Gary and his players couldn’t believe that the tournament players had been so incautious. But, to be fair, none of those tournament groups had played in Gary Gygax’s game. They had learned the rules of D&D, but they had no experience of the milieu in which the book was written. Of those nine groups that had learned D&D from a book, only one played sufficiently like Gary’s group to survive thirty seconds in his dungeon."
"In the same way that your heart feels and your mind thinks, you, mortal beings, are the instrument by which the universe cares. If you choose to care, then the universe cares. If you don't, then it doesn't." -- Brennan Lee Mulligan, D20, Fantasy High
Most of those iPad babies you're seeing are probably sick of that fucking tablet too.
A lot of parents are very bad at parenting and don't like their children. They don't want to talk to them, be around them or do anything with them. You know, the things kids need and will remember the most once they're grown.
So they train them from an early age that they should always be distracting themselves with something as to not be in the way or annoying the adults.
For me it was books and TV when I was little, and computers later on. That's all I did because it was all I could do without getting yelled at, and it was the closest to human interaction I could get most of the time.
Everyone loves to make fun of & complain about iPad kids but nobody thinks about the struggle of navigating life as an adult when you were forced to spend your entire childhood keeping yourself distracted so your parents didn't have to acknowledge your existence.
This was reposted to YouTube shorts and I would like to point out some comments in the video
Please give your children some damn playdoh and crayons and oversized bits of craft paper to color on. They need something more concrete and tactile than smooth glass.
Maybe they do need something tactile, but you've missed the point of the post. It's not the Ipad itself that's bad, it's the fact that the children are being neglected. You could hand a kid a whole library of books, several kilograms of play dough, a mountain of crayons, and all the craft paper in the world. But, if you don't spend time with them and you simply expect them to use those things to keep themselves busy so you don't have to deal with them, you're still neglecting the kid, and they're gonna end up with the same issues.
IMPORTANT
Running across this post almost immediately after reading the article about how some parents are letting fucking ChatGPT tell their kids bedtime stories now feels serendipitous in a way.
#so this is actually what i wrote my final thesis about for my bachelors in psychology #i ran an exeriment on kids below 5 that measured their social cognition levels (eg. understanding others emotions and needs etc) #and i also asked the parents about their kids screentime habits #and there was obviously a negative correlation between the two - so more screentime meant lower social cognition on average #BUT there were quite a few outliers with high amounts of screentime but also a higher level of social congition #and the explanation for that is that for these children screentime isn't there INSTEAD of interacting with the parents #screentime only affects the child negatively if parents use it as a distraction for the kids instead of interacting with them #so if a child watches some cartoon then the best a parent can do is sit with them and watch with them and talk about it with them #and then (limited) screentime can actually be beneficial for the development of other cognitive skills #so there is a large amount of scientific research out there that proves what ppl said in this post
That's really it. You'd probably have gotten similar results 30 years ago if you studied kids who are left to read books by themselves alone in their room for multiple hours a day vs kids whose parents read with them, or at least in the same room and talk to them about what they're reading. Because the former are most definitely also being neglected in other ways.
It's not as much about the tablets, it's about the fact that these children aren't being played with and talked to enough. Parents are using them as a get out of parenting tool instead of a parenting tool.
Antibodies mistakenly attacking the brain are linked with conditions including schizophrenia, dementia and OCD, prompting a revolution in ho
it may interest some of you to know that there is likely an autoimmune/inflammation component of many mental illnesses that we do not fully understand yet. the immune system and the nervous system are very connected both to each other and to all our other systems in ways that, again, we do not fully understand
reminder that psychology is both a very new and also a very SOFT science. if someone in psych is confidently positing that science understands the way the brain functions and malfunctions, they don't know enough to know how little they know. we do NOT understand the brain like we act like we do.
Some psychiatric patients may actually have treatable autoimmune conditions. But what happens to the newly sane?
An additional article about this subject that also goes into life after experiencing these kinds of mental illnesses and its effects on the family.
Mast cell activation syndrome (MCAS) is an immune disease with an estimated prevalence of 17%. Mast cell chemical mediators lead to heteroge
"Daily hydroxyzine at a dose of 25 mg was initiated and increased to twice a day, along with 10 mg cetirizine daily. The patient reported significant improvement and near complete resolution of both her phobia of blood and obsessive–compulsive thoughts and rituals."
These findings raise the tentative but exciting possibility that doxycycline treatment may reduce schizophrenia risk in adolescent psychiatr
at this point, if i were a practicing physician or psychiatrist, i would give every patient that reported idiopathic and treatment resistant syndromes of this type a modestly-dosed magnesium pill, a vitamin c pill, famotidine and ceterizine for a month before trying anything else. i am going to say with confidence we will see a big swing back towards "actual real physical etiologies have been abandoned in favor of a purely psychological-traumagenic and individualist theory of mental illness and its treatment and this was a mistake".
obviously mental illness is real and exists, and it often responds to psychoactive medication, im not debating that. im saying there are also a lot of diagnosed-crazy people including myself who are walking around with mast cell disorders, collagen disorders, occult infections and basic vitamin deficiencies which are, if not entirely responsible for the mood/personality/cognitive disorder, making things a lot worse.
Not saying anything nobody's said before, but the way Fallout is a foundationally anti-capitalist story that got turned into funkopop sci-fi pastiche slop for morons is painful to the point of brilliance. Makes its points about greed and power that much more salient.
People are, years later, still writing paragraph after paragraph on this post to tell me I'm full of shit. About the game where half of everything is plastered in conspicuous branding, the plot of the first game is caused by shady corporate scheming, the guys who caused all this shit to happen are businessmen from centuries ago, and the most iconic line in the franchise comes from a speech about military expansionism for resources to fuel economic function. That speech is the first verbal statement of the series. The first point of contact period in the entire series is an advertisement, shot panning out to reveal it is displayed on a television playing a series of commercials, and that this television is in a completely destroyed urban center, yet hauntingly continues to play.
What do you think this represents? What do you think the authors of this work may have been attempting to communicate through these images? Do you think it was simple coincidence? See me after class, so I can kill you.
I love love love love love love love the people who share screenshots of non-english social media provided with translations, because the casual humour that people share amongst themselves is always so overwhelmingly univerally human and also fucking hilarious.
"Why does everyone from [region] have a grandma with a freezer full of horse meat."
"I am from [region] and the only person I know who doesn't have a grandma with a freezer full of horse meat is my wife, who is not from here. She has a grandmother-in-law with a freezer full of horse meat."
"Only one of them?"
"My maternal grandmother didn't approve of my other grandmother when they met. She is now in a different freezer."
"My grandmother is the most dominant grandmother in my home village. Every time one of my cousins gets married, she buys another freezer."
Finding out AI companies are chewing through - literally, they’re pulping and burning them as they go - millions of books often including 1/1s and old texts that cannot be reprinted
Meanwhile there’s always some dipshit telling me AI is the future and we’ve got to just let companies erase human history and literature so they can train their abomination machines to pretend to think like people because a judge said it’s fine
AI companies are buying and scanning printed books for training data, raising copyright and cultural preservation concerns as rare volumes a
Mammal in a Sunday Dress, by Georgina M. Cox, 2026
Mammal in a Sunday Dress explores the uneasy relationship between femininity, civilisation, and the animal body. At first glance, the figure appears modest and withdrawn. Her posture is composed, her gaze seemingly lowered towards her bare feet, recalling the conventions of nineteenth-century portraiture where women were often depicted as passive objects of observation. Yet as the viewer moves closer, the illusion collapses. Her eyes are not lowered at all. She is looking directly back. The delayed eye contact transforms the encounter. The viewer approaches believing they are safely observing a woman; instead, they realise they have been observed themselves. The work refuses the traditional power dynamic of portraiture, denying the comfort of anonymous spectatorship. Looking becomes a reciprocal act. For Cox, the painting considers humanity's persistent desire to separate itself from the rest of the animal kingdom. The title quietly undermines this distinction. A "mammal" is not another creature—it is us. The Sunday dress, rich with cultural associations of femininity, morality, and respectability, becomes an attempt to distinguish ourselves from nature. Yet clothing cannot alter biology. Beneath lace and ritual remains the same vulnerable animal body. The work also reflects on the historical relationship between women and nature. Across art, religion, and philosophy, women have repeatedly been positioned as closer to instinct, emotion, reproduction, and the body itself, while men have been aligned with reason, culture, and civilisation. Mammal in a Sunday Dress does not reject this comparison. Instead, it questions why proximity to nature has so often been treated as something lesser. Chiaroscuro isolates the figure within darkness, allowing the luminous dress to symbolise the performance of civilisation while the bare feet quietly return the body to the earth. Neither is presented as more truthful than the other. The painting exists in the tension between performance and instinct, refinement and biology. Mammal in a Sunday Dress ultimately asks a simple but unsettling question: if every layer of culture were stripped away, what would remain? Not a king. Not a saint. Not a gentleman or a lady. Only another mammal, looking back.
source
I was trying to describe something that was pissing me off but xkcd already articulated it better than I could
I'm just like. I'm very tired of the hyper individualist cynicism that's so common on here, where so many tumblrinas feel very confident saying that nobody can read, everyone is dumb, most people are unwashed dullards etc. except for me, the very special tumblr user who's smart enough to notice that everyone else is very stupid. come on now.
I think if your worldview relies on the unquestioned assumption that most people suck you're like. how do I put this kindly. philosophically you've maybe never moved past the mindset of a socially uncomfortable seventh grader.
During the darkest days of the AIDS Crisis, we buried our friends in the morning, we protested in the afternoon and we danced all fucking night. The dance kept us in the fight because it was the dance we were fighting for.
i have been shaving my head for several months now and im an old hand at most of the weirdness that comes with it. ive seen so many strange things - a beanie torn in half after i tried brute force yanking it off my stubble, strangers hands gripping my head like a sort of fleshy bowling ball, c-beams glittering in the dark by the tanhauser gate.
but still, sometimes, things surprise me. and i was surprised today. because today an old man approached me at the park. and he said, you know, im a pediatrician.
which is already a weird start to a conversation, because i didnt know that. and maybe i should have just rolled with it, but instead i went
wait. i dont know that. why did you think i knew that?
which didn't even put him slightly off balance.
cuz you're bald, he said, so confidently that i didnt even question it until the conversation was over. now. i was - i was over there, sitting -
and he gestured across the park to a giant pile of soft dirt that had an almost cartoonishly exaggerated ass print on it which derailed me for the second time. right? because whoever sat on that dirt, clearly, had an ass like two coconuts being fired out of a spanish cannon. whereas this man had an ass that could probably only be detected with powerful scientific instruments. i told him this in more succint terms by simply saying that was clearly not his buttprint.
now at this point we'd gotten derailed twice, and as unflappable as he'd been the first time, he was starting to get a little defensive. so he said perhaps someone with a large butt sat down after i got up, and i said why are you lying about where you were sitting, and he said why would i do that? and i said if i knew, i wouldnt be asking, and he said fine, i was driving by - and i said why didn't you just say you were driving by?!?!?!?! and he said because i didn't want you to think i was the kind of crazy person that would just stop his car to tell a stranger in a park that he, as a pediatrician, could tell that your parents REALLY cared about tummy time!
then he left. angrily. he actually stomped back to his car. i dont know when i started laughing but i didnt stop until i got home. my voice is still all scratchy right now. ive been in a little bit of a writing funk but i had to get this down while i could still remember it so perfectly.
and as a tangent, i cannot emphasize enough the benefits of going outside and interacting with the public. it is a constant source of joy. every place on earth is the weirdest place on earth. i will never be able to write a character as fascinating as the people i run into at the park. but god help me, i have to try.
op thank you for explaining in the tags because I had no idea what the fuck that meant
At 1 PM on a Friday I get an email from my boss. I'm busy as hell so I don't check it immediately. Then I get a phone call from my boss, which has almost never happened before. I'm a white collar worker, a historian. There's never a 'historical emergency' requiring a phone call to kick me in the ass and get to work.
The request is so urgent my boss needs it by the end of the work week. Which, y'know, is 5 PM on a Friday. So I have four hours to do it.
It's a forwarded request. Somebody contacted a member of the donation team asking for help, "I need a map from the Vietnam War to use for a presentation." It's somebody she's trying to coax into giving a five figure donation to the museum.
The request was asked to the donation team member, who then emailed my boss, who then emailed and called me urgently.
This map required:
North and South Vietnam in it
All four areas that South Vietnam was divided into for military purposes ('Corps') clearly delineated
Four cities, all of them horrifically misspelled, and only identifiable because I know what battle the requester is asking about (it’s in III Corps on the border with Cambodia) (the requester danced around the battle but I’m knowledgeable enough to identify it)
Has Laos and Cambodia in it
Has the Ho Chi Minh Trail in it
So. I was mad about the 'you have literally four hours to find a map with a lot of requirements.'
I was then mad at myself about finding a copyright free map from Texas Tech University within half an hour, proving her right for asking me to do it.
Then, after I found a map that perfectly met the requirements, I was equally amazed, baffled, and horrified when I read further into the forwarded email chain.
The donation team team member they were speaking to used AI to generate a map.
The above put half of North Vietnam in South Vietnam, made the Ho Chi Minh Trail a country, made 60% of Cambodia part of South Vietnam, put the DMZ extremely high up in North Vietnam, completely disconnected the southern tip of Vietnam, misplaced all of the Corps zones, etc etc
At the very last second the donation team member had a moment of divine clarity, remembering there's three historians on payroll to ask for this kind of thing from. So she contacted my boss while saying, "I had fun with this, but I decided I should check for accuracy before I send it to the donor! I need a fact check by the end of the day, then I send it"
My boss, while not the most knowledgeable on the Vietnam War, does know her geography. She took one look, and knew it was so off she called me to tell me how urgent it is that I look at the email and respond
good fucking god, jesus tap dancing goddamn christ, I'm glad I was asked to look at it and then find a real map
My fear has never been that AI would replace human intelligence. My fear has been that the people who Know Things and the people who Make The Decisions are almost never the same people.
We’re throwing real intelligence out on the street to starve while worshipping the shambling Frankenstein-ed corpse of knowledge puppeteered by those who see us as disposable assets.