complimented a womans clear raincoat this morning and she said Well i feel like a sandwich
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@whatswithtodaytoday
complimented a womans clear raincoat this morning and she said Well i feel like a sandwich
Not pertinent to anything in particular but I do think it's kinda weird that we keep depicting cavemen in media crawling around on all fours covered in dirt with tangled, matted hair, speaking in broken, cobbled-together toddler language when like.
They were us.
Like literally genetically they were US, just like. A while ago.
Like
Would you trust a TV caveman with a baby? Probably not
A real life caveman though??? I think they'd be at least okay at it
This is actually really important and comes up in Anthropology classes all. The. Time.
As long as homo sapiens have existed, we have had the same emotional and mental capacity as you and I do today. You nailed it. They were US. Even Neaderthals existed alongside and had offspring with Homo Sapiens for many thousands of years.
There's much evidence that cavemen would have had complex spoken language, culture (learned information passed down), symbolic interpretation, and I think they most certainly would have been able to handle holding a baby. In fact I have my suspicisions that an ancient homo sapiens mother may be a more present, attentive, and knowledgable mom than I could be today.
Do not let media trick you into believing we are the pinnacle of humanity. Unilinial evolution theory (google it quick I beg) is BUNK, GARBAGE, and the root of so much evil.
We've been human for a long, long time, and we are not inherently better than all those who came before.
One the most profound experiences of my life was visiting Font de Gaume, which has 12 thousand year old paintings. They use a technique where the horses appeared to run across the wall when seen in flickering firelight. There was a bison the wall staring at us with such attitude, I could practically hear him. I had the most profound feeling of those ancient artists reaching forward to lay their hands on my shoulders. To say, "This was my world." It was a profoundly moving experience.
Some years later, I went to the Orkney islands where we visited a tiny family run museum of artifacts from the chambered tomb at the other end of the farm. They handed me a pestle once held by some neolithci human.They'd worn groves where the thumb and forefinger would be for better grip.
One time, in a French history class, my teacher randomly at the end of the class had all of us draw a sketch of a horse. And we were all like ??? Okay???
At the beginning of the next class, my teacher showed us a cave painting of a horse. And then he showed all of our horses, which he had scanned and put into the presentation.
He then pointed out all the ways that our horses looked similar to the prehistoric horse. Same features, drawn from the same angle, etc.
And then he asked us, "Isn't it cool that you draw horses the same way as someone who lived 20,000 years ago?"
Yeah. That stuck with me for a while.
In Spain, there's a cave full of ancient, ice age era drawings of bison and reindeer and other animals of that period... And one small section of chaotic scribbles just a little away from everything else. These scribblesv were so incomprehensible, they were originally just called the 'Panel of Enigmatic Signs'... Until it occurred to someone that drawings only three feet off the ground probably weren't made by adults.
Scientists are now pretty sure the scribbles were made by kids ages 3-6, more or less on their own. The adult cave artists were probably doing what any modern parent might do when they want to keep small children out of their hair for awhile: they gave the kids some drawing tools of their own and a small section of wall to work on, out of the way but still close enough to keep an eye on them, and let them have at it.
What's most charming about the whole thing is the way the cave scribbles look exactly like what you'd find on the wall of a preschool today. Artistic styles vary widely across different times and cultures, but child development is as near to a universal human experience as it gets.
Wisher made detailed 3D scans of the drawings, which helped her understand the uneven pressure applied to the charcoal and the direction the lines were drawn. The team then compared the panel’s composition with age-appropriate artistic efforts by modern children. Kids across cultures go through the same developmental stages, which influence their physical ability to draw, until about the age of 6, Amir notes.
The team compared the ancient art with the developmental stages exhibited by modern children: the furiously scribbled circles and push-pull lines typical of 3-year-olds just learning to control their bodies, for example, or the wobbly, right-angled figures of slightly older kids beginning to master fine motor skills.
Both are apparent in the cave, superimposed on each other as though two or more kids were drawing at once. That’s a clue the Las Monedas marks were likely made by “siblings or a mixed-age play group within the sphere of safety around adults, but also within their own space,” says co-author Felix Riede, an Aarhus archaeologist.
...
Adults at Las Monedas would have been aware of what the kids were doing and presumably had lit fires or torches; without ample firelight the cave is pitch black.
These are the scribbles in question!!!
You do an eclectic celebration of dance!
The Birdcage (1996)
gothic horror is when there's a location. cosmic horror is when there's an unauthorized fucking Thing. folk horror is when you're outside.
when gerard way sings "the broken, the beaten, and the damned" and when kermit the frog sings "the lovers, the dreamers, and me" they're talking about the same people btw
bringing my art blog back from the dead to share this because OP inspired me
The Rainbow Parade
One part of me wants to live with Patti Lupone.
The other part of me knows I am not strong enough to do so and that it would inexplicably lead to me my death.
Rest in peace, legend 🕊️
Truly devastating
Hey, don’t cry. Free online database of Japanese folk lore
Might I add, free database of mostly European folklore and myths
:0
Thank you!
And her sister Phthalo Blue, another slam dunk for copper!
“Is there anything better than iced coffee and a bookstore on a sunny day? I mean, aside from hot coffee and a bookstore on a rainy day.”
Emily Henry, Book Lovers
im not even the type of guy to go "actually it's frankenstein's MONSTER" because a painting by rembrandt or picasso or any other artist is often called "a rembrandt" or "a picasso" as shorthand. so in this respect frankenstein's monster can be considered "a frankenstein"
darling I love your 8 foot tall patchwork flesh creature, it really livens up the place. is that an authentic frankenstein?
it's only a true frankenstein if it was produced in the frankenstein region of switzerland. otherwise it's just a sparkling homunculus
In the first poetry workshop I ever took my professor said we could write about anything we wanted except for two things: our grandparents and our dogs. She said she had never read a good poem about a dog. I could only remember ever reading one poem about a dog before that point—a poem by Pablo Neruda, from which I only remembered the lines “We walked together on the shores of the sea/ In the lonely winter of Isla Negra.” Four years later I wrote a poem about how when I was a little girl I secretly baptized my dog in the bathtub because I was afraid she wouldn’t get into heaven. “Is this a good poem?” I wondered. The second poetry workshop, our professor made us put a bird in each one of our poems. I thought this was unbelievably stupid. This professor also hated when we wrote about hearts, she said no poet had ever written a good poem in which they mentioned a heart. I started collecting poems about hearts, first to spite her, but then because it became a habit I couldn’t break. The workshop after that, our professor would tell us the same story over and over about how his son had died during a blizzard. He would cry in front of us. He never told us we couldn’t write about anything, but I wrote a lot of poems about snow. At the end of the year he called me into his office and said, “looking at you, one wouldn’t think you’d be a very good writer” and I could feel all the pity inside of me curdling like milk. The fourth poetry workshop I ever took my professor made it clear that poets should not try to engage with popular culture. I noticed that the only poets he assigned were men. I wrote a poem about that scene in Grease 2 where a boy takes his girlfriend to a fallout shelter and tries to get her to have sex with him by tricking her into believing that nuclear war had begun. It was the first poem I ever published. The fifth poetry workshop I ever took our professor railed against the word blood. She thought that no poem should ever have the word “blood” in it, they were bloody enough already. She returned a draft of my poem with the word blood crossed out so hard the paper had torn. When I started teaching poetry workshops I promised myself I would never give my students any rules about what could or couldn’t be in their poems. They all wrote about basketball. I used to tally these poems when I’d go through the stack I had collected at the end of each class. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 poems about basketball. This was Indiana. Eventually I couldn’t take it anymore. I told the class, “for the next assignment no one can write about basketball, please for the love of god choose another topic. Challenge yourselves.” Next time I collected their poems there was one student who had turned in another poem about basketball. I don’t know if he had been absent on the day I told them to choose another topic or if he had just done it to spite me. It’s the only student poem I can still really remember. At the time I wrote down the last lines of that poem in a notebook. “He threw the basketball and it came towards me like the sun”
…Lizzy
#this is so freaking funny (itspileofgoodthings)
#adaptations really do often underplay how much#pride and prejudice#darcy’s ‘unexpected’ proposal#is basically the ‘did you just flirt with me’ ‘have been for the past [few months] but thanks for noticing’ meme#like this scene#or the one where Lizzy and him are ALONE in the Collins’ house talking about women marrying and moving far from home#& he’s trying to suss out whether she’d be cool with marrying him and living far away from her own home#and she is like ‘well obviously it’s fine if you have enough money to afford the travel’ and he’s like ‘oh?!? and uhhh…#you’re not super attached to your home yourself are you? like you’d be fine with not constantly visiting [your weird embarrassing family]?’#SHE IS SO CLUELESS
This is why I always say that Pride & Prejudice is not Enemies To Lovers.
Elizabeth is in a one-sided-enemies to lovers story. The book from Elizabeth’s point of view: Darcy: [compliments her] Elizabeth: This man is insulting me. Darcy: [gets up his nerve and asks her to dance after she makes a big deal of liking dancing] Elizabeth: He is trying to make me feel uncomfortable! Darcy: [tries to make conversation about something he thinks she is interested in] Elizabeth: I’m not sure what his angle is, but it must be awful since he said that one unflattering thing about me to his friend in a conversation I eavesdropped on! And also, hot!George says he’s an ass, so clearly him being nice to me must be nefarious!!!
Darcy, meanwhile, is over here in all his awkwardness thinking he’s doing a really good job of flirting with the girl he likes. He’s doing so well. It’s actually working! At first it seemed too good to be true, but she’s saying all the right things! She’s telling him how to meet up with her so they can spend time together! She’s putting up with his awful aunt and still lets him visit her despite all of that! He’s done it! He’s got the girl! He’s planning their wedding because he’s getting an A in romance, you guys.