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@thelarom
There used to be an old sign by the path, warning passers-by of the local sleeping willow, which would trap the unwary with fatigue, engulf them while they slept, and release them a hundred years later.
There was a new sign:
"This sleeping willow is full."
And a map of other locations to try.
The other night husband and I were watching a documentary about the yeti where they were doing DNA analysis of samples of supposed yeti fur, and every one of them came back as bears.
Anyway, the next night we watched a thing about some pig man who is supposed to live in Vermont. People said it had claws and a pig nose but walked upright like a man. Now, I happen to know that sideshows used to shave bears and present them as pig men. So every piece of evidence they gave of this monster sounds to me like a bear with mange.
So now the running joke in our house is that everything is bears. Aliens? Bears. Loch Ness monster? Bear. Every cryptozoological mystery is just a very crafty bear.
Bears. They’re everywhere. Be wary. Anyone or anything could be a bear.
oh shit
As the OP of this post, I’m going to threaten that if this gets to one million notes by the 10 year anniversary on 1 June 2026, one year from today, I will get a lower back tattoo of the loch ness bear monster.
Y'all know what to do Tumblr.
I’m doin’ it.
November 8: 312 of 365 I attended the Super Art Fight show this evening, and shot time-lapses of the 3 bouts. This is the only one of the three that was not horribly blocked by other people in the crowd. Frames are 1/8th of a second @ f-3.5 taken every 3 seconds. The video is 15 fps, so life was sped up by 45 times. The music for this video was used with permission from A Shell in the Pit Bandcamp:http://ashellinthepit.bandcamp.com/ Song: Lamprey Album: Rogue Legacy Soundtrack - http://tettixashellinthepit.bandcamp.com/album/rogue-legacy-ost
The first thing I noticed was that the pain was gone. The tall, thin, hooded figure let me bask in that for a moment.
IT IS TIME
"Oh," I said, looking down at the frail vessel I had inhabited all my life. "Right."
COME
"Do you remember," I asked as we walked, "everyone you come for?"
YES
"Fondly?"
I DO NOT JUDGE. AS A RULE, I SPEND LITTLE TIME WITH PEOPLE AS THEY LIVE
"No, but you spend some time with them after, like now."
Death halted.
THERE WAS ONE, TEN YEARS AGO. HE TAUGHT ME A LOT ABOUT WHAT IT MEANS TO BE HUMAN
"To be where the rising ape meets the falling angel?"
AH. I HEAR YOU HAVE MET HIM TOO
If @wilwheaton is not yet aware of this SFF account, this is a great reason to become so.
English has alternating stress patterns that indicate whether related words are nouns (first syllable stressed) or verbs (second syllable stressed):
Noun: récord Verb: recórd
(x)
My fucking god!! This is why English does the thing!!!!
contract
contract
FINALLY IT MAKES SENSE
it’s the most subtle difference but it’s beautiful.
Not always! Effect, for example, is pronounced the same for both parts of speech (stress on the second syllable). Access is another one! Support! Photograph! Broadcast! Not to mention the loads of monosyllabic verbnouns….
#y'all’ll just believe ANYTHING without question won’t you?
Of course, English is a mish-mash of many languages bringing in both their morphology rules and it’s own pile of irregularities. If you read all of the page linked (and onto the references if you so desire), you’d see that while there is a long incomplete list of words that follow this rule, as well as many that do not as the rule is on top of this, differs from dialect and region to region.
Not once was it stated that this applies for the entirety of noun-verbs. It just supplies an explanation for a fair part of why something happens.
saw this thread and really loved it but what i liked most is that it taught this kid that if a book isn’t for you, even if you really want to like it, it’s okay to stop reading it and come back to it another time when you are ready. there were so many books i slogged through as a kid because i felt like i had to prove that i could read them since i *loved* reading so i simply had to finish this book or i didn’t actually love to read. silly, really. the more kids who don’t ascribe to that thinking the better. really great of both the dad and the librarian for allowing the kid access to the stephen king book and allowing him make the decision on whether or not it was for him by himself.
"swasticars"
20th Century Marriage Discussion…
"Wealth isn't "stuff", its the social relationship of command."
Oh fuck thats an amazing point.
this is from a town in spain that in San fermines instead of bulls uses a giant ball and its so funny watching it on tumblrÂ
UNMUTE
UNMUTE!
This is frustrating.
I love the comparison, but I hate how they are comparing.
They are acting like she is using optics to give herself an advantage. But the device she is wearing is just for comfort and essentially does the same thing as closing one eye and squinting the other.
The little thing over the left eye is basically like an eye patch.
And the thing over her right eye is a mechanical iris, like in a camera lens, but it is NOT a lens.
Different lighting environments are going to be brighter or darker and you may have to squint more or less to let in the same amount of light into your eye. Squinting allows the shooter to get the sharpest possible vision in order to shoot a bullseye the size of a 12-point Times New Roman period.
But if you have to squint for hours for practice and in competition, this can strain your face muscles and become uncomfortable. So this iris basically squints for you.
It's more like wearing comfortable shoes so your feet do not hurt than a lens magnifying the target and giving an advantage.
Both athletes have access to these items. One felt more comfortable without them. The other didn't feel like getting a muscle cramp from squinting all day.
Either would have shot the same if they had or had not used these devices.
Just a funny difference in gear preference.
I should also add, the Turkish dad is the only one using lenses.
I'd just like to add that Kim Yeji may look like a cool cyborg badass, but she and the Turkish dad only won silver.
The gold medal winner in the women's air pistol finals was adorable and a bit overshadowed.
Oh Ye-jin, who is only 19, won gold and set an Olympic record with her final score.
Kim Yeji is her mentor and seems very supportive of her.
Also, Oh Ye-jin added a little heart to the barrel blocking thingie.
I mean, it's like she got lost at summer camp and just wandered into the Olympics to win gold.
I think she deserves some attention too.
When I was watching the competition I kept wondering why they never showed the actual target as it was being shot. On the broadcast they just show a graphic of the target.
And then the commentator said the bullseye was literally the size of a period—smaller than the actual pellets they are shooting. And that the entire target was the size of a coin.
They'd have to set up a macro lens next to every target for you to see them.
Pretty much every shot lands within the 3 inner circles. And if you hit the 3rd circle your shot is basically garbage. Like you'd see the shooters grimace and do an angry little foot stomp if they hit it there.
Like, if you get a 7 you might as well go home.
And the best shot possible is a 10.9—which would be hitting as close to the bullseye as can be measured.
This was Oh Ye-jin's final gold medal winning shot.
A 10.6!
It's absolutely bonkers how precise these shooters are.
I mean... look at this period...
.
Now imagine trying to shoot it from 30 feet away.
I don't think my old ass could even see the damned thing.
Thank you for the context, my nearsighted ass did NOT know this.
This machine kills AI
Neil Gaiman, what are you doing EVERYWHERE?? Yesterday, you were in two knowledge bowl questions- one involved a reading from a passage in Stardust, and the other was "Which novel, written by Neil Gaiman, published in 2001-" (I didn't hear the rest of the question before I was shaking my teammate to hit the buzzer). And then, this morning, your name was one of the answer options to a radio show question about who wrote a Dolly Parton song. Sadly you did not write a Dolly Parton song.
Whew!
I'm sorry to disillusion people but Neil Gaiman is made up. He's "everywhere" for the same reason mall Santas are everywhere. People dress up as Neil Gaiman and go to bookstores and conventions and run social media accounts to spread joy to all the young adults and queer people. But he's not real. Neil Gaiman is more like a feeling. In Scandinavia he's known as Nail Guaymin and he leaves books in people's shoes every November 10th.
I can't believe there are still people thinking Neil Gaiman is real. Just recently there were articles of him being sighted in Australia. As if such a prolific author would risk get eaten by dropbears. In The Czech Republic he's known as Nýl Gejmen and every November 10th we drink only dark lager instead of normal beer.
In Germany we call him Nils Gaymann, and on November 10th it's a tradition to complain about early Christmas decorations. This is because of the ancient belief that Nils Gaymann makes people disappear who decorate before Totensonntag, the Sunday of the Dead, which is the Sunday before Advent First. So complaining is like a tiny summoning ritual for Nils Gaymann, hoping you are heard.
In Ireland they say that in the time of the two winters, on the 10th of Gamhain, a figure all dressed in dark clothes, with a raven on his shoulder, will come to your house and knock on the door and ask for a drink of water. And if you give him the water and do not ask any dangerous question containing the number three, he will take his most propitious form, the Trisulc mNeil (known also as the Lad, the Dad, and the Geezer), will bless all present, and will then pass onward harmlessly on his way to RTÉ.
However, whatever it may threaten or promise, do not give the raven any whiskey. ...Just, you know, don't.
Of course Neil Gaiman is real. Well, This Neil Gaiman is real, anyway. Each year, at the Gathering of the Beckys, we hold a summoning and binding, so that we may have Neil Gaiman with us for another thirteen moons. This Neil Gaiman is my personal favourite of all the Neil Gaimans all the Beckys have ever brought into this reality. This Neil Gaiman must be protected at all costs.
Mental Crop Rotation
When farmers grow the same crop too many years in a row, it can leave their soil depleted of minerals and other nutrients that are vital to the health of their fields.
To avoid this, farmers will often alternate the crops that they grow because some plants will use up different minerals (such as nitrogen) while other plants replenish those minerals. This process is known as “crop rotation.”
So the next time you find that you need to step away from a project to work on something else for a while, don’t beat yourself up for “quitting” that project. Give yourself permission to practice “mental crop rotation” to maintain a healthy brain field.
Because I’ve found that when that unnecessary guilt and pressure are removed from the process, a good mental crop rotation can help you feel more energized and invigorated than ever once you’re ready to rotate back to that project.
: A crucial part of crop rotation is that the field is let fallow sometimes. You plant what’s called a “cover crop”, which is something you don’t expect to harvest– it’s there for its roots to hold the soil in place, and often it’ll be what’s called a nitrogen-fixer, i.e. a plant that can pull nitrogen out of the air and fix it into the soil with its roots (but sometimes it won’t, sometimes it’s really just there to shelter the soil surface), and then you’ll till in that cover crop, or let the frost kill it and the stalks lie as mulch, and then you’ll rotate productive crops back into that field the next season.Â
It’s important, though, to understand that during the fallow period, no nutrients are removed from that ground, and nothing is expected of it. Whatever the land grows then, it keeps, and it gets tilled back in or decomposes in place, to return its energy to the earth.
We’re not allowed, in our current society, to just let our minds be fallow for a bit, to produce nothing for export, to make nothing that can be sold. But it’s part of good land stewardship, to give every field time when it doesn’t need to give you anything back.Â
So yes, grow and produce different things from time to time, rotate them around your mind and exercise different mental muscles, take different things from your creative processes, yes– but also, give yourself a fallow spell now and again, and let the field of your mind grow things for itself to keep, to break down and save for later.Â
Positive mental health AND agriculture??!?
*slams reblog button*
Terry knew.
"...the kind who brushed the dog and told their children bedtime stories..."
That passage leads into this one:
Yup.
Terry knew.
the older I get, the more the technological changes I've lived through as a millennial feel bizarre to me. we had computers in my primary school classroom; I first learned to type on a typewriter. I had a cellphone as a teenager, but still needed a physical train timetable. my parents listened to LP records when I was growing up; meanwhile, my childhood cassette tape collection became a CD collection, until I started downloading mp3s on kazaa over our 56k modem internet connection to play in winamp on my desktop computer, and now my laptop doesn't even have a disc tray. I used to save my word documents on floppy discs. I grew up using the rotary phone at my grandparents' house and our wall-connected landline; my mother's first cellphone was so big, we called it The Brick. I once took my desktop computer - monitor, tower and all - on the train to attend a LAN party at a friend's house where we had to connect to the internet with physical cables to play together, and where one friend's massive CRT monitor wouldn't fit on any available table. as kids, we used to make concertina caterpillars in class with the punctured and perforated paper strips that were left over whenever anything was printed on the room's dot matrix printer, which was outdated by the time I was in high school. VHS tapes became DVDs, and you could still rent both at the local video store when I was first married, but those shops all died out within the next six years. my facebook account predates the iphone camera - I used to carry around a separate digital camera and manually upload photos to the computer in order to post them; there are rolls of undeveloped film from my childhood still in envelopes from the chemist's in my childhood photo albums. I have a photo album from my wedding, but no physical albums of my child; by then, we were all posting online, and now that's a decade's worth of pictures I'd have to sort through manually in order to create one. there are video games I tell my son about but can't ever show him because the consoles they used to run on are all obsolete and the games were never remastered for the new ones that don't have the requisite backwards compatibility. I used to have a walkman for car trips as a kid; then I had a discman and a plastic hardshell case of CDs to carry around as a teenager; later, a friend gave my husband and I engraved matching ipods as a wedding present, and we used them both until they stopped working; now they're obsolete. today I texted my mother, who was born in 1950, a tiktok upload of an instructional video for girls from 1956 on how to look after their hair and nails and fold their clothes. my father was born four years after the invention of colour televison; he worked in radio and print journalism, and in the years before his health declined, even though he logically understood that newspapers existed online, he would clip out articles from the physical paper, put them in an envelope and mail them to me overseas if he wanted me to read them. and now I hold the world in a glass-faced rectangle, and I have access to everything and ownership of nothing, and everything I write online can potentially be wiped out at the drop of a hat by the ego of an idiot manchild billionaire. as a child, I wore a watch, but like most of my generation, I stopped when cellphones started telling us the time and they became redundant. now, my son wears a smartwatch so we can call him home from playing in the neighbourhood park, and there's a tanline on his wrist ike the one I haven't had since the age of fifteen. and I wonder: what will 2030 look like?
I was thinking the other day about Christopher Lee. Dude started doing Hammer films in the Fifties, having to sit through unending makeup and the terrible special effects, and ended up as Saruman in a film where half the scenes were CGI. What was that even LIKE?
(Granted it was Christopher Lee, so he dealt with it with more iron calm than I will possess in a hundred lifetimes, but still.)
Las leyes de la fĂsica son inquebrantables.
This is legitimately the funniest thing ive ever seen
