Silvergirl

Sherlock, Good Omens, reading, writing, hiking, singing, and polishing guillotines. Reblogging the wonderful world of tumblr: tagging me helps me reblog your art, fic, photos, etc. 🤍

[lisbeth-kk]

Infinifluff in August!

Astonishingly enough, the 14th is only a week away! The August prompts are: herbs - moss - hedge + the image above.

Alternative prompts: orchard - forest - landscape - oak - abundance + the image below

Remember to tag us when you post your fluff so we can reblog it!

[totallysilvergirl]

All fandoms, all relationships, all the fluff!

[thealogie]

ever since i remembered you can cook chicken and fish en papillote my cooking life has been so good and easy. no clean up. maximum flavor. you can vary the aromatics/veggie. perfect lazy dinner in 15-20 minutes every time.

[moonofpoosh]

Tap, tap.

[smudgeandfrank]

Fan Expo Boston Day 1 is a GO!!!! 💖🤩✨️ Stop by my table, A807 in the artist alley and say hi, my darlings!!! 💖🫂✨️

[caribbean1989]

Sherlock + John, Sherlock s2e3

My GIF masterlist

[inbabylontheywept]

My dad will listen to me talk about the same ten things that have interested me since I was 8 years old, and I am 27 now but he still thinks they're fascinating. He has like, a best-hits-of-Babylon rants, and when we're in a topic adjacent to them, he'll occasionally just invoke them. We'll be talking about the 1960's, and he'll be like, so, whatever did happen to those original Apollo rocket engines, and he knows what happened to them because I've told him about it like thirty times, and he knows that I know that he knows, but he also knows that I love talking about it and that this is a carte blanche to spend the next ten minutes spinning a yarn about the lost machining arts and the death of knowledge and the constant red-queen-hypothesis style sprint that technology is locked into just to try and preserve itself.

So I'll do the rant again, and he'll listen to it like it's his first time hearing it, and he'll ask the best questions because he's been hearing this rant for 19 years, you can bet your ass he knows the best questions, and it's... beautiful. The words are almost adjacent to the dance.

I can remember reading a book once, where there was a perfect translator. Too perfect, because it translated for meaning alone, independent of the words. A man might ask his wife, "Hey, do you remember that hotdog we shared in 1972?" and the translator would spit out "We have been many different people, but we have always loved each other. Isn't that beautiful?" And I've imagined it for those rant-dances, and tried to imagine what the words would be. I think his parts would just come out to something like "Your handful of intense interests are something that I love about you, and I want you to know that they are not merely tolerated." And my parts would come out to something like "I am sharing who I am with you because I trust you. And I've always been able to trust you. You are, and were, and remain, an amazing dad."

[inbabylontheywept]

I'm reblogging this because this story ties into it and I want you all to read this story very much. It's from @drenamigmo and it is unbelievably good and I get a little watery every time I think about it. Also, just follow Dren in general, they're good people.

[softness-and-shattering]

What is red queen hypothesis?

[inbabylontheywept]

A very streamlined explanation of the red queen hypothesis is this idea in evolution biology that some animals get locked together in evolutionary traps where one animal is evolving an offensive trait as a counter to another animal, who is evolving a defensive trait at the same speed, and that both will evolve in more exaggerated forms until the traits are entirely unsustainable and both die. It comes from the red queen's race in Through the Looking Glass, where she says something about how she needs to run as fast as she possibly can just to stay in place.

If you want examples, some I've heard punted around are things like sabertooth tigers vs. megafauna and some weird ass newts in Yellowstone. The sabertooth theory is that they got locked in a race to eat megafauna that protected themselves with really thick skin, so their fangs get longer to counter the skin, then the skin got thicker to counter the fangs, repeat, and eventually, the skin became so thick that the megafauna couldn't cool themselves properly. Then humans figured out that they could just skip the giant fangs thing and just chase the megafauna until they had heat strokes. Badaboom, now the megafauna and saberteeth are both extinct. The newt example is that there are some newts in Yellowstone that have absurdly high level of tetrodotoxin in their skin. Like, hundreds of times the lethal dose for a human. But! They're preyed upon by birds that have evolved limited immunity to tetrodotoxin. So the newts are stuck always trying to become more toxic, and the birds are stuck always trying to become more immune, and they sit at this uneasy level where the birds can't gorge themselves entirely on newts because then they'll die, but they can eat enough newts that it keeps the newt population down, and neither really has enough evolutionary wiggle room to adapt to their environment in any new ways besides becoming more poisonous and more poison immune. So it's almost like they're not really evolving to adapt to their environment, they're mostly just evolving to adapt to each other, and that means that one day the environment will kill them.

Very useful for describing situations where things are using all of their available energy trying to just maintain balance with a problem that will immediately kill them if they ever relax, and eventually kill them if they don't.

[softness-and-shattering]

So regarding technology, is that the same as the capitalist goal of growth regardless of it makes sense or is sustainable or necessary or helpful, every quarter has to bring in more money than the last even though resources are finite and the shareholders are doing just fine?

Like there always has to be a new phone every couple years, planned obsolencence, that kind of thing? Im reminded of a fashion show, I dont remember the designers name, where the clothes were badly made and ripping and tearing off the models on the runway as a commentary on how fast new clothes are expected to be designed and produced with not nearly enough time taken to ensure quality.

[inbabylontheywept]

I don't know that my concerns with how much technology struggles to propogate itself have to do with capitalism as with the pace of technology itself, with is incredibly fast. By the time a generation masters how to use a tool in electrical engineering, it is generally almost obsolete. So there's this tradeoff that exists, naturally, between how cutting edge something is and how well the field knows how to use it. Additionally, there are sometimes older technologies that work better in niche fields that can wind up stranded later because they become extremely expensive without widespread use. There are niche applications where vacuum tubes aren't just used, but are truly necessary, but since there's not enough consumers to justify mass production in those fields they're almost always being created custom.

To make an analogy of it, imagine that you live in the bronze age. And you know what? Some stuff is actually just better when it's made out of bronze. Like, a bronze knife isn't great because it'll be soft, quick to dull and easy to bend, but bronze works really well in nautical environments. I think we still commonly make boat props out of bronze. So if you're a boat guy, maybe you used to just go to your local smith and ask for a prop and he'd hand you one. But then iron becomes a thing and now your local smith is an iron only guy, and the one the next town over is an iron only guy, and it turns out that the only guy within a week's journey of you that knows how to make bronze is some old as dirt crabby bastard from the old bronze days. And you can get on his wait list, but you're very acutely aware that he's not gonna live forever, and there's not exactly a bunch of young students clamoring to learn this guy's craft, so you're not sure exactly what's gonna happen when he dies. Maybe someone else will pick up his niche, but there's a world of difference between a knowledge handoff and reinventing the field. Experts almost never write down all that they know. They often don't even know that they know it themselves. They just do things in a very particular, almost superstitious way.

And even if, if, that old guy does a real handoff, gets an apprentice and everything, the apprentice is never going to have the same kind of environment the old timer did for learning. They're not going to get the kind of general practice that existed in a world where everything was made of bronze. They won't be made into an expert, they'll be born one. And it will make them worse.

In electronics, we've basically moved through the bronze age, to the iron age, to the steel age, to the diamond age, all in the last 60 years. It's like living through three consecutive Tower of Babel's. There is no system for doing handoffs. There is a terrible struggle for each generation to understand even the one previous, least of all the ones before that. We have to keep running because behind us, the past is going up in flames, and we are afraid of what will happen when all that fire catches up to us.

(Anyway, please read The Universal Translator. It's a very good short story.)

[wheeloffortune-design]

my publisher: Good morning! Huh did you advertise for the pre-sale yesterday? Because we launched twelve hours ago and we already made sales!

me: yeah, i posted on tumblr

publisher: .........tumblr?

me: that's where the gays are.

(link to Mrs. Victoria buys a brothel, a sapphic western)

[wheeloffortune-design]

update

publisher: And what is your marketing strategy on... tumblr?

me: idk, i shitpost at 2am?

publisher: .....and it works?

me: depends on what the gays find funny at that point in time.

publisher: Could I have a link to your tumblr?

me: .......absolutely not.

(link to Mrs. Victoria buys a brothel, a sapphic western where 50 year old women kiss and murder)

[janeaustencomics]

Where we stray from the path (but keep a lot of dialogue from the book, because it's so perfect)

[a-mel0n]

reblog if you’ve had an online friendship that’s lasted more than 2 years

[tiltedsyllogism]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 5/5 Fandom: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Characters: John Watson, Sherlock Holmes, Greg Lestrade, Sally Donovan, Original Characters Additional Tags: Case Fic, original casefic, Veterans, War Veteran John Watson, Moral injury, POV Sherlock Holmes, POV John Watson, POV Alternating, Shippy Gen, Season 1 vibes, Suspense Series: Part 9 of author’s favorites Summary:

Somebody is systematically killing veterans in London. Sherlock is on the case, but he’s definitely not worried. John will be fine. Even if he doesn’t seem fine.

Set in 2010, sometime between TGG and aSiB but firmly in the vibe of Season 1.

[totallysilvergirl]

@tiltedsyllogism I LOVE YOU and your Sally Donovan

@stellacartography @meledol84 @thalialunacy @johnlocky @macgyvershe @the-reading-lemon @srebrnafh @keirgreeneyes @podfixx @imakewordsandpics @charlie-novakk @snowfilly1 @jazzthecat00 @starrla89 @kittenmadnessandtea @kitten-kin @sherlockian4evrsblog @semiprofessionalmom @mysterythecat @solilu @beloved-child-of-the-house @izhunny @mazaherstuff @riverwithoutbanks @a-different-equation @oetkb12 @seekers-who-are-lovers @dixkens @alltingfinns @daziechane @beltainefaerie @barachiki @fieryphrazes @lhrinchelsea @imnova @notjustamumj @saki101 @peanitbear @devoursjohnlock @cupidford @221beloved

[liberalsarecool]

The protection of rape culture is a Republican choice. They want all abusers of children to never face accountability.

[only-tiktoks]

[belovedgoofball]

[wanderer-chronicles]

[fieryphrazes]

Lady at the paint store remembered me six months later AND the variety of samples I bought…..

[lisbeth-kk]

Fastidious, Yet Disorderly

I write this in my private journal to keep it to myself. Not every word I write about the world’s only consulting detective is meant to be disclosed to the general public. If I am in luck, I will be able to conceal this from the man himself. He will be sure to tell me if I fail this, make no mistake, Watson.

I have lived in 221B Baker Street for the length of two months, three weeks, and one day, and I am pleased to say that I have never felt more alive in my life. However, I have never been more aggravated with a person either.

Sherlock Holmes is extraordinary, brilliant, extremely intelligent, which my stories in Strand Magazine bear witness to. What people do not know about the masterful detective, is his peculiar habit of strewing papers and books all around our rooms. Mrs Hudson describes it as ‘a spectrum of chaos’. Quite the apt account in my humble opinion.

In some instances, it can best be described as mayhem, because Holmes can be excessively vocal when he is unable to find what he is searching for. 

He looks like a deranged scientist when he is in one of his frenzies. His eyes are protruding from their sockets, his hands make his normally slicked back hair into a bird’s nest, and his clothes are dishevelled.

The first time it happened, I was worried sick. Before that, I perceived Holmes as the most fastidious of gentlemen when it came to personal hygiene and appearance. No wonder it shocked me so. Had not Mrs Hudson divulged to me that this happens on a regular basis, I would have administered a sedative for him, I think.

***

“Watson, I need your assistance at once!”

Holmes is in one of his moods again, and time is of the essence. 

When is it not, Watson?

“What do you require, Holmes?” I ask, looking devastated at the disorder he has left our sitting room in.

Finding the needle in the metaphorical haystack, of course.

To my relief, he seems far from the peak of mania yet, as evidenced by his immaculate attire and general behaviour. 

“A letter from our previous client. The politician.”

“Do you mean the Prime Minister, Holmes?”

“I don’t know, Watson. Our clients’ titles are irrelevant to me. You have to consult my brother if you want – “

“Steady on, Holmes. Surely, there is no need for insults this early in the day,” I reply calmly.

He harrumphs loudly and continues to rifle through a stack of letters.

His filing system is at present in a state of disarray. Normally, when he is his composed self, he knows where everything is. Today, however, I observe new lines around his mouth, and his eyes are slightly red-rimmed. 

A third night without sleep, then.

Shortly after, the letter is found, and Holmes has eaten two bites of fried eggs and toast with his breakfast tea.

“You are a wonder, dear fellow,” he states before he drains his cup.

A blush creeps up my neck at such unprecedented praise, and I have a sudden urge to loosen my tie. I clear my throat before I speak to ensure my voice come across as lucid and not raw with emotions.

“Surely, finding a letter can’t warrant such an exclamation, Holmes.”

“Oh, but it was not any letter, Watson!”

“Nevertheless,” I protest mildly.

As Holmes pointed out, it was not an ordinary letter. To be more precise: he did not look for the letter at all. Not per se. It was the item he accidentally dropped into the envelope he was eager to obtain. 

***

“How did you come to miss your folded companion?” I ask that evening.

Holmes took me to dinner at Simpson’s to celebrate that his magnifying glass was secure in his waistcoat pocket once more, and now we are in front of 221B’s lit fireplace with glasses of excellent port at our disposal.

“I… er… I was intrigued by a… pattern, which I wanted to… explore more carefully.”

This abnormal conduct rattles me. Never in our acquaintance has Holmes spoken so hesitantly. His speech is habitually precise in the extreme; he never fumbles with his words like that.

“Pray tell, old boy.”

The warmth from the fire and the alcohol in my veins fill me with contentment, and I relax entirely into my chair.

Holmes sighs dramatically, which is his wont. Still, he seems calmer than usual.

“Your scarf.”

His voice is soft and quiet. I shake myself out of my momentary lethargy when I discern a hint of affection in it.

Does this mean that my devotion is reciprocated?

“John, please do not panic.”

Panic? What on earth does he mean?

Taking stock of myself, I realise that my breathing is too quick. I close my eyes, inhale and exhale deeply and try to control my galloping heart.

When his familiar fingers caress my nape and cheek, hope flares in me like the flames in our hearth. 

My mind is in uproar; another spectrum of chaos, but it will all be fine. If I can just manage to open my eyes and look at him; the man I revere above all others. The man who holds my heart in his beautiful hands.

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(Tell me if you want to be added or removed from the list)

[totallysilvergirl]

[expressions-of-nature]

by Alexander Pashenichev

[librarianladyx]

The older I get, the more I find this to be true. 😉The pattern is by @samanthalanetextiles — please give her shop a look!

[liberalsarecool]

Getting #BlackRock to change/exit the real estate market in NYC is a massive win for New Yorkers and #ZohranMamdani.