Controversial Truths About Ancient Egypt Masterpost
The pyramids were built by contemporary workers who received wages and were fed and taken care of during construction
The Dendera “lightbulb” is a representation of the creation myth and has nothing to do with electricity
We didn’t find “““copper wiring””” in the great pyramid either
Hatshepsut wasn’t transgender
The gods didn’t actually have animal heads
Hieroglyphs aren’t mysteriously magical; they’re just a language (seriously we have shopping lists and work rosters and even ancient erotica)
The ancient Egyptian ethnicity wasn’t homogeneous
Noses (and ears, and arms) broke off statues and reliefs for a variety of reasons, none of which are “there is a widespread archaeological conspiracy to hide the Egyptian ethnicity”
The carvings at Abydos aren’t modern machines but recarvings over old carvings. Sure they look like them but if you can read hieroglyphs and know that Ramesses II will even usurp the carvings of his own father just to be a little shit
‘No soot on the ceilings and walls of the Dendera temple!’ is actually because of extensive restoration works and not because Egyptians were in on shit like Baghdad “batteries”
While the Egyptians were fine-ass astronomers they didn’t align any of their enormous and/or important buildings to modern star constellations, because constellations look very different now than they did ~5000 years ago
The pyramid is the simplest, sturdiest shape with which to build and many different cultures discovered this in their own time. There were never any weird fish humans/aliens involved
I can’t believe I forgot my favourite Hill to Die On
Seth was not the god of “evil”, and despite his chaos providing a foil to order, he wasn’t completely villified until very late in Egyptian history, when he became associated with despised foreign enemies
Hats off to the few of you who’re reblogging this with tags saying you’re going to check my claims later. You make me not entirely despair of this hellhole.
Here are some vetted Egyptological books/sources (that are by and large appropriate for a lay-audience) you can find most, if not all of the above:
Lehner, M., The Complete Pyramids
Wilkinson, R. H., The Complete Temples of Ancient Egypt
Hornung, E., The One and the Many: Conceptions of God in Ancient Egypt
Dunand, F. & Zivie-Coche, C., Gods and Men in Egypt
Kemp, B., Ancient Egypt: Anatomy of a Civilization
Bard, K., An Introduction to the Archaeology of Ancient Egypt
Stevenson Smith, W., The Art and Architecture of Ancient Egypt
Kitchen, K. A., The Life and Times of Ramesses II, King of Egypt
Sweeney, D., Sex and Gender (in Ancient Egypt)
McDowell, A. G., Village Life in Ancient Egypt: Laundry Lists and Love Songs
So how does this work? Your debt laws to your estate when you die. No one is required to accept the estate, whatever assets you had can be liquidated, but if there are none, then it's just debt.
With multiple cards you can float this for a while. Take a cash advance an card A and make the minimum payment on card B. And vice versa. This keeps you current on your payments.
Make sure anything of sentimental value to friends or family is passed on before you die.
Note that if you are married this may not work as in many places debt contacted by one spouse is considered marital debt.
I'm instituting a new policy of "if I can't easily read your crusty scanned PDF then I'm sending it back to you, telling you to get your shit together and save your .docx as .pdf, and causing snakes to manifest inside your house"
this but also if you are in accounting and you have an Excel file please do not save it as a PDF or take a screenshot of it and then paste it into another Excel file
Good afternoon to everyone in the notes having a horrible time! Y'all are fighting demons I never knew existed!! I think every person that makes you do stupid time wasting shit like this because they refuse to learn basic computer literacy should be fired!!
A king has no sons, no daughters, and no queen. For this reason he must decide who will take the throne after he dies. To do this he decides that he will give all of the children of the kingdom a single seed. Whichever child has the largest, most beautiful plant will earn the throne; this being a metaphor for the kingdom. At the end of the contest all of the children came to the palace with their enormous and beautiful plants in hand. After he looks at all of the children’s pots, he finally decides that the little girl with an empty pot will be the next Queen. Why did he choose this little girl over all of the other children with their beautiful plants.
The seeds were all dead (burned, fake, etc.). The other kids cheated and got different seeds and planted them. The little girl didn’t cheat and was not able to grow anything because the seed was dead. She was the only one who didn’t cheat.
i get the moral it’s trying to convey but that king is an idiot and the kingdom’s doomed. you don’t appoint an honest kid who will forthrightly admit a failure like that to leadership of a country, you put that kid in charge of like… the army, or something. the department of agriculture.
i’d send out dead seeds, then appoint the kid with the biggest and most beautiful plant anyway. ideally the same kind of plant as the dead seeds were from. and ideally a kid with a really good pokerface. that kid knows:
a) how to perceive failure early (a well developed second plant means they knew how soon the first seeds should sprout and didn’t fuck around when they didn’t)
b) how to fix the situation (a second plant of the same species means they got someone to help them identify the seeds and plant more, or are observant enough to do it themselves)
c) how to get the best people for a job in to do it (kids aren’t great gardeners. a beautiful science project probably means mom did all the work— just what you want from a child ruler and their regent)
all around, that kid (or their mom) is the kind of devious results-oriented bald-faced liar you want to go toe-to-toe with the lords of your country and the rulers of your neighbors. not a little kid who admits defeat so early and in a situation with such high stakes. ‘whoops i didn’t grow a plant’ sounds a lot less sweet when you phrase it like ‘i give up on ruling my country’.
you know, i think i’d also send agents out to encourage the kids to destroy each other’s plants. let’s see who’s good at seige warfare, too.
Alternately, the king is not an idiot at all, and the girl with the empty pot is the correct choice. For the simple reason that the king knew the seeds were duds. And the KING is the one they’re trying to impress.
If you want someone to be successful in a position of power, you don’t pick the one who is going to baldfacedly lie to the person who not only knows they’re doing so, but who also has the evidence to prove it, because that’s just setting them up to be fed enough rope to hang themselves later on by whichever of the kingdom’s enemies is best at baiting traps.
Before any question of course of action comes up, you first need the kid who can correctly diagnose the problem, and not just the immediate problem, but its ramifications. You can’t just go by what’s in front of you, you have to factor in who put it in front of you, whether they did so knowingly or not, and what the consequences would be for yourself and your country if they’re not as stupid as they look. The ability to lie comes later. First you need someone who can read the situation at all.
It’s not just that the seed’s a dud. It’s that the person performing the test gave you that dud. You have to ask all the follow-up questions. Did they know? Was it on purpose? Are all the seeds duds or just yours? And from there, you have to decide which of the possible answers will be most damaging if it turns out to be true. You can’t just immediately start lying to cover up failure, you first have to figure out what counts as failure. Which is a worse look, failing this immediate assignment, or lying knowingly to the king’s goddamn face like you think he’s an idiot, and then having him reveal that fact in front of the whole kingdom? Someone whose immediate response to potential failure is erecting an elaborate scaffolding of lies directly in the face of the one person they should guess could immediately yank it out from under them is also probably not going to get very far in the cut-throat world of kingdom politics.
Lying can be trained. There’s no evidence that the king is immediately dying. The kid can be trained later. But you need to know the rules before you can break them. You need to start from a place of honesty and integrity, and also situational awareness, and build the skills from there.
Now, is this situational awareness diagnosable purely from the empty pot? Probably not, but I am assuming the king is also interviewing the candidates once they’ve gotten it down to a shortlist. Pick the most prominent outliers in both directions, and from there work out what their motives, reasons and methods were.
But if I was doing this, and I got to the kid who went: “That wasn’t a seed. You gave me a rock. If you can’t tell the difference between a seed and a rock before asking someone to grow a plant out of it, I’m not sure you should be the one choosing your heir”?
Yeah. I’d probably take a good long look at her. We’ll do some work on tact and diplomacy, kiddo, you’re gonna need it. But I’ll take a good dose of common sense to start out from.
On top of all that, knowing when a pursuit is futile and can only end in failure, and therefore not wasting resources on that pursuit? Also a really important skill for leadership!
King John of England is one of the most famous examples in the English-speaking world of a historically reviled king. He's been immortalized as the insatiably greedy king who taxed his people to starvation and bankrupted the realm, to the point that many people forget the historical context surrounding him. Despite what Disney would tell you, John wasn't raising taxes so he could swim in a pile of gold like Scrooge McDuck, he was doing it to fund wars of reconquest to reclaim lands that his older brother Richard had lost (and he was the one who bankrupted the Treasury to begin with) in his constant warring in the Middle East and France.
Perhaps if John had known when to quit, and had focused on consolidation and administration of the island kingdom that fell into his lap, history might remember him less as a Caligula and more as a Hadrian.
also here is a whole website that not only has a shit ton of adventures and such but lets you search for any item or npc or whatever and see their stats and info at your fingertips
Not "The Character did nothing wrong" or "The Character is irredeemably awful" but a secret third thing: The Character may display moments of deep love & compassion, may even have a strong sense of ethics, and may also be capable of brutal cruelty that is irreconcilable with those traits. The constant tension between the different sides of The Character's nature is exactly what makes them compelling, and attempting to reduce them down to simply "a terrible person" or "innocent & misunderstood" is missing the point of the questions a media with nuanced characters is asking you to consider
It was a Tuesday in 1981 when the San Francisco police kicked in the door.
Inside the small apartment, they expected to find a hardened criminal. They expected a drug kingpin. They expected resistance.
Instead, they found a 57-year-old waitress in an apron.
The air in the apartment smelled sweet, thick with chocolate and something earthier. On the kitchen counter, cooling on wire racks, were 54 dozen brownies.
The police officers began bagging the evidence. They confiscated nearly 18 pounds of marijuana. They handcuffed the woman, whose name was Mary Jane Rathbun.
She didn't look scared. She didn't look guilty.
She looked at the officers, smoothed her apron, and reportedly said, "I thought you guys were coming."
She was booked into the county jail. The headlines wrote themselves. A grandmother running a pot bakery. It seemed like a joke to the legal system, a quirky local news story about an older woman behaving badly.
But Mary wasn't baking for fun. And she certainly wasn't baking for profit.
To understand why Mary risked her freedom, you have to understand the silence of the early 1980s.
San Francisco was gripping the edge of a cliff. A mysterious illness was sweeping through the city, specifically targeting young men. Later, the world would know it as AIDS. But in those early days, it was just a death sentence that no one wanted to talk about.
Families were disowning their sons. Landlords were evicting tenants. Even doctors and nurses, paralyzed by the fear of the unknown, would sometimes leave food trays outside hospital doors, afraid to breathe the same air as their patients.
Men in their twenties were wasting away in sterile rooms, dying alone.
Mary knew what it felt like to lose a child.
Years earlier, in 1974, her daughter Peggy had been killed in a car accident. Peggy was only 22. The loss had hollowed Mary out, leaving a space in her heart that nothing seemed to fill.
When the judge sentenced Mary for that first arrest, he ordered her to perform 500 hours of community service. He likely thought the manual labor would teach her a lesson.
He sent her to the Shanti Project and San Francisco General Hospital.
It was a mistake that would change American history.
Mary walked into the AIDS wards when others were walking out. She didn't wear a hazmat suit. She didn't hold her breath. She saw rows of young men who looked like ghosts—skeletal, in pain, and terrified.
She saw "her kids."
She began mopping floors and changing sheets. But soon, she noticed something the doctors were missing. The harsh medications the men were taking caused violent nausea. They couldn't eat. They were starving to death as much as they were dying of the virus.
Mary knew a secret about the brownies she had been arrested for.
She knew they settled the stomach. She knew they brought back the appetite. She knew they could help a dying man sleep for a few hours without pain.
So, she made a choice.
She went back to her kitchen. She fired up the oven. She started mixing batter, not to sell, but to save.
Every morning, Mary would bake. She lived on a fixed income, surviving on Social Security checks that barely covered her rent. Yet, she spent nearly every dime on flour, sugar, and butter.
The most expensive ingredient—the cannabis—was donated. Local growers heard what she was doing. They began dropping off pounds of product at her door, free of charge.
She packed the brownies into a basket and took the bus to the hospital.
She walked room to room. She sat by the bedsides of men who hadn't seen their own mothers in years. She held their hands. She told them jokes. And she gave them brownies.
"Here, baby," she would say. "Eat this. It'll help."
And it did.
Nurses watched in amazement as patients who hadn't eaten in days began to ask for food. The constant retching stopped. The mood on the ward shifted from despair to a quiet sort of comfort.
Mary Jane Rathbun became "Brownie Mary."
For over a decade, this was her life. She baked roughly 600 brownies a day. She went through 50 pounds of flour a week. She became the mother to a generation of lost boys.
She washed their pajamas. She attended their funerals. She held them while they took their last breaths.
She did this while the government declared a "War on Drugs."
By the early 1990s, the political climate was hostile. Politicians were competing to see who could be "tougher" on crime. Mandatory minimum sentences were locking people away for decades.
In 1992, at the age of 70, Mary was arrested again.
This time, the stakes were lethal. She was charged with felonies. The district attorney looked at her rap sheet and saw a repeat offender. He threatened to send her to prison.
One prosecutor famously whispered to a colleague that he was going to "kick this old lady's ass."
They underestimated who they were dealing with.
They thought they were prosecuting a drug dealer. In reality, they were attacking the most beloved woman in San Francisco.
When the news broke that Brownie Mary was facing prison, the city erupted.
It wasn't just the activists who were angry. It was the doctors. It was the nurses. It was the parents who had watched Mary care for their dying sons when the government did nothing.
Mary turned her trial into a pulpit.
She arrived at court not as a defendant, but as a grandmother standing her ground. The media swarmed her. Reporters asked if she was afraid of prison. They asked if she would stop baking if they let her go.
Mary looked into the cameras, her voice gravelly and firm.
"If the narcs think I'm gonna stop baking brownies for my kids with AIDS," she said, "they can go fuck themselves in Macy's window."
The quote ran in newspapers across the country.
The court didn't stand a chance.
Testimony poured in. Doctors from San Francisco General Hospital wrote letters explaining that Mary’s brownies were medically necessary. Patients testified that she was an angel of mercy.
The charges were dropped.
Mary walked out of the courthouse a free woman. But she didn't go home to rest. She realized that her personal victory wasn't enough. As long as the law was broken, her "kids" were still in danger.
She needed to change the law.
August 25 was declared "Brownie Mary Day" by the San Francisco Board of Supervisors. It was a nice gesture, but Mary wanted policy, not plaques.
She teamed up with fellow activist Dennis Peron. Together, they opened the San Francisco Cannabis Buyers Club—the first public dispensary in the United States. It was a safe haven where patients could get their medicine without fear of arrest.
But Mary wanted more. She wanted the state of California to acknowledge the truth.
She campaigned for Proposition 215. She traveled the state, despite her failing health. She spoke in her simple, direct way. She didn't talk about liberties or economics. She talked about compassion. She talked about pain.
She forced voters to look at the issue through the eyes of a grandmother.
In 1996, Proposition 215 passed. California became the first state to legalize medical marijuana.
It was a domino effect. Because one woman refused to let her "kids" suffer, the public perception of cannabis shifted. The Economist later noted that Mary was single-handedly responsible for changing the national conversation.
She never got rich.
She had always joked that if legalization ever happened, she would sell her recipe to Betty Crocker and buy a Victorian house for her patients to live in.
She never sold the recipe. She never bought the house.
Mary Jane Rathbun died in 1999, at the age of 77. She passed away in a nursing home, poor in money but rich in legacy.
Today, over 30 states have legalized medical marijuana. Millions of people use it to manage pain, seizures, and nausea.
Most of them have never heard of Mary.
They don't know that their legal prescription exists because a waitress in San Francisco decided that the law was wrong and her heart was right.
They don't know about the 600 brownies a day.
They don't know about the thousands of hospital visits.
Mary didn't set out to be a hero. She told the Chicago Tribune years before she died, "I didn't go into this thinking I would be a hero."
She was just a mother who had lost her daughter, trying to help boys who had lost their way.
She proved that authority doesn't always equal morality.
She proved that sometimes, the most patriotic thing a citizen can do is break a bad law.
Every August, a few people in San Francisco still celebrate Brownie Mary Day. But her true memorial isn't a date on a calendar.
It is found in every oncology ward where a patient finds relief. It is found in every dispensary door that opens without fear.
It is found in the simple, quiet courage of anyone who sees suffering and refuses to look away.
Mary taught us that you don't need a law degree to change the world. You don't need millions of dollars. You don't need political office.
Sometimes, all you need is a mixing bowl, an oven, and enough love to tell the world to get out of your way.
Sources: New York Times Obituary (1999), "Brownie Mary" Rathbun. San Francisco Chronicle Archives (1992, 1996). History.com, "The History of Medical Marijuana." Weird Everything, FB december 12, 2025
2015 - Here are some gifs of Donald Trump being attacked by a bald eagle named Uncle Sam, literally the least patriotic thing that can happen to an American. [video]
I’m reblogging this again because I finally realized why this is so funny to me, as a bird person.
In the first gif, what you’re seeing is a man who has zero idea how to handle a bird. That’s a heavy bird, and he’s got his arm stretched out as far as it will go in an attempt to keep the bird away from his face. What that does is create unstable footing for Uncle Sam. The handler is there trying to hold up Trump’s arm, but the bird has already realized it needs to leave or it will fall. In the first gif the bird is not attacking Trump- it is trying to get away from him so it doesn’t get hurt.
In the second gif, what we see is a bird that remembers what just happened and is blaming Trump for it. Uncle Sam sees Trump reach for its tether, and makes a lunge at Trump’s hand to keep him away. The bird /does not/ want to hang out with Trump because it has learned that Trump has no idea what he is doing.
Uncle Sam is rejecting Trump based on Trump’s proven inability to properly handle Uncle Sam. And that is both hilarious and beautiful.
No one ever tell me anything bad about the person who runs this account.
the person who runs this account, Katie Gouldin, is an evolutionary biologist who has an EXCELLENT podcast called Creature Feature which compares and contrasts the weird behaviors of man and beast! she is super cute and funny too!
The thing that gets me about antisemitism is that so much of it is like, hidden under layers of innocuous (read: culturally normalized, white supremacist) imagery & conspiracy logic & when you try to explain how these things are Secretly About Jewish People it makes YOU sound like the crazy one
Like one I've been thinking about lately is how you have to be careful talking about pre-christian europe and paganism and such because thee nazis like literally the first ones had their whole thing about RETVRNing to this ahistorical mythologized past they constructed, right. This doesn't sound like it has anything to do with jews yet but it's still about antisemitism because where did christianity come from? Branching off of judaism. Cue conspiracy shit
And these fuckers are still here! Look at any white dude who's a little too into norse mythology! There is a reason why that's a red flag, this type of guy didn't spawn out of thin air
So. Yknow. Something to be conscious of accidentally stepping in when making Entirely Valid criticisms of christianity's whole pillaging thing. This is also why the myth/common misconception that christmas trees were originally pagan is uh. From nazis trying to claim a Pure European heritage
"Where did this announcement date of the Jan 9th come from originally, I haven't seen social media screenshots of that..." Reddit speculation. We've been laundering reddit speculation into a hype train. Please shoot me
tangentwithtanner
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