Nerdy Things

"I thought about what I liked doing...and realised the primary one was just pointing at things. Pointing out things I liked and showing them to other people-like a mum shouting 'Look! Moo-cows!' as a train rushes past a farm." Caitlin Moran.

[larkandkatydid]

New local scandal is an old woman who will walk down to her mailbox in her robe, then, when no cars are driving by, lay down next to her mailbox as if she’s fallen or been hit by a car. Tourists will stop, help her up, and walk her to her house. Then, after they leave, she’ll repeat this until she’s bored with it.

Her neighbors have called the cops a bunch but have been told that it’s not illegal to fake being an old lady in peril so soft-hearted tourists or newcomers are nice to you. One of the neighbors sometimes yells “oh, get up, Lois!” at her. But overall local sentiment is that this is at least somewhat enviable levels of not giving a fuck.

[catsofyore]

KNEEL BEFORE TOPSEY. Postcard from my collection, 1907.

[somecunttookmyurl]

i can tell i’m sleep deprived bc i just made myself cry about tutankhamun and i have, like, negative interest in the kid

[somecunttookmyurl]

have now made the rest of the discord cry about this little boy who had multi-coloured ducks sewn onto a tunic that he loved so much he wore it to a Very Important Event because he was EIGHT and have you SEEN my DUCKS

[somecunttookmyurl]

sorry no i’m not done i’m gonna make you all cry some more i’m bringing you down with me

there was once a little boy.

he is born disabled. his body hurts, and he can’t walk properly the way the other children do. he doesn’t understand why. he’s a little boy. but he plays with wooden boats and pulls toys on a string.

somebody makes him a tunic. they sew ducks onto it in red and green and yellow and blue. the bright colours of a child.

the little boy is eight years old, and he’s going to be king now. there’s a big ceremony about it. he doesn’t really fully understand what’s going on, because he’s eight, but he wears the tunic with the brightly coloured ducks for the occasion because he loves it. look at his ducks! aren’t they great?

he is a child. the adults around him manipulate and coax him to gain more power for themselves. he still plays with toys.

as a teenager, not yet an adult, he fathers children. they do not survive. he’s not even old enough to have full agency in his job and is still being manipulated, but he had babies and they died.

he does not make it to his twenties. at eighteen or nineteen years old he dies, and is buried. his babies, so tiny, are buried with him.

and so is his tunic with the little ducks that he loved so much he kept it long after it no longer fit.

there was once a little boy.

[somecunttookmyurl]

yeah i think that like. especially with historical figures in your mind people who were kings and queens or important nobles were adults. even if you know how old they were it doesn’t really click. it doesn’t seem real

but then you get something like a little tunic with brightly coloured ducks on it and it hits you like a fucking truck that this really was a little kid and no matter how far removed you are a little kid is still a little kid. their brains didn’t develop any quicker back then. he was just as developed/mature mentally as any 8 year old now. he had cartoonish animals on his clothes and he played with toy boats and probably terrorised the local cat population.

tutankhamun was a child and he didn’t make it to adulthood because he was unfortunate enough to be a very important child

his dad died when he was 8. he saw his own babies die when he was still just a boy himself.

but he had brightly coloured little ducks on his favourite shirt, and he kept it.

[somecunttookmyurl]

and he did not just keep the duckie shirt either

tutankhamun had a little pair of sandals with ducks on them. he had earrings decorated with ducks. he kept those, and other items of childhood clothing. some toys. keepsakes. things he loved, and treasured. he kept them all in a little wooden chest. the chest… was carved with ducks.

and that little duck chest, filled with things he kept from his childhood, was buried with him. maybe he was keeping them for the little babies who did not make it. maybe they just reminded him of good days and fun times.

but he was a little boy who thought ducks were just the best

[somecunttookmyurl]

WITH PLEASURE

(greyscale makes it hard but the duck head is on the right above the toe strap. always takes me a while to find it too)

[beggars-opera]

[libriamore]

Ok but this is how to teach history. This is how you get people to pay attention, to care. Find something small and make it personal, then zoom out to the wider context. History is best taught as a story, with people who lived their lives in ways that came together to create something remarkable that we still talk about today, but who were still just human at the end of the day. They kissed, argued, cried, and dreamed just like we do. And sometimes they really liked ducks.

[kedreeva]

I want to point out that there are at least two obvious duck heads on the sandals (circled in red) but!

The patterns between them, to either side of what looks like lilypad/lotus flower petals, could very well be “ducks as seen from above.” There is a beak on the lower edge, a clear “head” shape above/behind it, darker ovals that look like folded wings, and a body/tail. I didn’t see the red circled ducks first, I saw the “swimming on a pond” ducks amongst the lotus flowers.

[philhoffman]

[foralittlewile]

There are SO many ways humans and Eridians compliment each other, and I don't even think some were intentional. For example: Lots of fan content I've seen has been kind of thoughtlessly projecting humanity's heat seeking behaviour onto Eridians. Reading the biology document, however, has made me infer something — Eridians love the cold.

They sleep at night, even in the absence of a light cycle, because that's when the temperature drops. Unlike humans, they don't use blankets. They don't try to preserve heat. They want to cool down faster, because because that's what their body needs shut down and rest! They RELAX in the cold!

Not only that, but their version of breathing is a constant influx of cool air. If they're without that coolant for even a few minutes, they're in serious trouble, and after half an hour, they're dead. Unlike us, they're at constant risk of overheating.

But not while they have a source of cold nearby. Like, for example, a human who lives at a fraction of their temperature.

On the Hail Mary, Grace spends a lot of time pressed against Rocky. Their temperature differences are extreme enough that xenonite can't entirely halt the heat transfer, so it's pleasantly warm. He feels like a cat curling up by the fire. It's relaxing. Of course, he also feels a little bad that he's draping his freezing raincloud of a body all over Rocky, but he figures Rocky puts up with the unpleasant cold okay.

Except: Rocky is chasing the cold just as much as Grace is chasing the heat.

Grace's muscles unwind with a constant heat press. Rocky relaxes with an endless source of peaceful, relieving cooling. What a funny quirk of biology, Rocky thinks, that being so incomprehensibly opposite to each other is so pleasant. What a lovely quirk of fate, that they've been given the opportunity to learn that through each other.

[calellon]

i'll forever miss how the internet felt before you had to second-guess the authenticity of every single piece of media you came across. silly videos used to be just silly. fun was coincidental. wonder was just wonder. digital art had character and soul. AI has taken the taste out of everything and irreversibly poisoned the creative sphere and the people still pushing it forward are the doom of both joy and the quality of being.

[paper-wounds]

[torchickentacos]

one of the best pieces of advice I've ever heard (for myself, at least) is that if you're in a terrible mood and NOTHING is helping, then start doing the chores/responsibilities/job stuff/etc that you've been putting off. Will it put you in an even worse mood temporarily? Probably, but you're already pissed off, so you might as well double up on it at that point 😭 there's no loss. It's not like finally getting around to cleaning the house and scheduling appointments is going to ruin the good day that you aren't currently having to begin with 💀 And then, when the bad mood passes, you'll have gotten shit done and you'll feel a lot better later, even if in the moment you're having The Worst Time Ever about it.

[ellebumblebee]

Headcannon that the newspapers and media had a hard time of finding photos and info about Grace to put in their columns.

They search high and low for a sign of the mysterious man who was at Stratt's side for so long. They didn't focus on him back then, the paparazzi somehow failed to capture him properly whenever they got close enough to badger Stratt. Just another lackey, they all assumed.

He was never one for photos, he'd bat away Ilyukhina when she called him for a group shot. He'd make some joke about how he always looked awful in them, that his smile wasn't quite right, and she eventually gave up trying to convince him. Only a few shots remain, ones she snagged when he wasn't looking. Sleeping at his desk with a stack of coffee cups piled beside him, eating a packet of sour skittles with a look of pure bliss, working on a report with his tongue stuck out and a pen behind his ear, hair rumpled. Half forgotten memories.

The media is tearing itself apart looking for a sign. They find his disproved scientific paper, but after that he seems to drop off the map. No family, no known friends. Who was this man?

Then people come forward, finally. Not scientists, not relations, but parents. People who sat across the table from him at parents evenings, people who trusted him with their children, perhaps the highest form of trust. They have photos from sports days and school plays and barbecues, and more importantly, they have stories. He was an amazing teacher, a good colleague, a kind man. He was patient and clever and inquisitive.

The world knows Ryland Grace as a saviour first, but a teacher second.

[jehovahhthickness]

Praying that $1500 randomly comes to you when you need it the most this year.

[jehovahhthickness]

Okay inflation is crazy.

We bumping up the price to $15,000 for 2026.

[thereigning-lorelai]

Save Earth, save Erid, go home.

Project Hail Mary (2026) dir. Phil Lord, Chris Miller

[shamebats]

Migraine sufferers will be like "it's not like I'm disabled or anything, it's just that if I do any of these normal everyday things other people do all the time, my head explodes. But I'm fine honestly, as long as I avoid doing anything ever and my environment and the weather never changes, then my head explodes a little less"

[liberalsarecool]

Data centers have a very limited lifespan but their consequences will be felt for generations.

[austenacious]

The Other Bennet Sister ~ Text Posts [19/?] Tom Hayward Chronological Edition

[liberalsarecool]

She called it.

Unqualified Republican appointments and GOP 3pstein capitalism have abysmal consequences.

[gaslit-dipshits]

Man at City Council Meeting Makes Devastating Case Against Proposed Local Data Center

A former programmer spoke up during a city council meeting in a small town in Ohio, making a well-articulated argument against data centers.

[perkymcbadsuit]

[hypokeimena]

image description: margaret atwood's poem "siren song". text reads:

This is the one song everyone / would like to learn: the song / that is irresistible:

the song that forces men / to leap overboard in squadrons / even though they see the beached skulls

the song nobody knows / because everyone who has heard it / is dead, and the others can't remember.

Shall I tell you the secret / and if I do, will you get me / out of this bird suit?

I don't enjoy it here / squatting on this island / looking picturesque and mythical

with these two feathery maniacs, / I don't enjoy singing / this trio, fatal and valuable.

I will tell this secret to you, / to you, only to you. / Come closer. This song

is a cry for help: Help me! / Only you, only you can, / you are unique

at last. Alas, / it is a boring song / but it works every time. /end description