Mostly a girl. Ace. Writer. NC. Multifandom like whoa. Cosplayer. Circus freak. Possibly part canine. Beta for everything and everyone. Maker of things. Fixer of stuff. Nearsighted archer. Only bites occasionally. Fashion-sideways. Makes too many lists. Resident magpie. Somewhat French. Vulture. Kitchen witch. Music obsessive. Steampunk girl. Fairy tale enthusiast. Bookworm. Aerialist. Thinks a lot. Maybe too much. Doesn't know what she's doing. Teapunk. Blanket fort queen. Fiber artist. Silly.
This is my mainblog aka where I dump everything that interests me in the slightest, so, warning: it's a bit random. By that I mean a lot. A lot random. I try to tag things somewhat organizedly but it doesn't always work, sorry. Here be many varied dragons and also a lot of other things.
Call me E.
Talk to me if you want!
Something I find incredibly cool is that they’ve found neandertal bone tools made from polished rib bones, and they couldn’t figure out what they were for for the life of them.
“Wait you’re still using the exact same fucking thing 50,000 years later???”
“Well, yeah. We’ve tried other things. Metal scratches up and damages the hide. Wood splinters and wears out. Bone lasts forever and gives the best polish. There are new, cheaper plastic ones, but they crack and break after a couple years. A bone polisher is nearly indestructible, and only gets better with age. The more you use a bone polisher the better it works.”
It’s just.
50,000 years. 50,000. And over that huge arc of time, we’ve been quietly using the exact same thing, unchanged, because we simply haven’t found anything better to do the job.
i also like that this is a “ask craftspeople” thing, it reminds me of when art historians were all “the fuck” about someone’s ear “deformity” in a portrait and couldn’t work out what the symbolism was until someone who’d also worked as a piercer was like “uhm, he’s fucked up a piercing there”. interdisciplinary shit also needs to include non-academic approaches because crafts & trades people know shit ok
One of my professors often tells us about a time he, as and Egyptian Archaeologist, came down upon a ring of bricks one brick high. In the middle of a house. He and his fellow researchers could not fpr the life of them figure out what tf it could possibly have been for. Until he decided to as a laborer, who doesnt even speak English, what it was. The guy gestures for my prof to follow him, and shows him the same ring of bricks in a nearby modern house. Said ring is filled with baby chicks, while momma hen is out in the yard having a snack. The chicks can’t get over the single brick, but mom can step right over. Over 2000 years and their still corraling chicks with brick circles. If it aint broke, dont fix it and always ask the locals.
I read something a while back about how pre-columbian Americans had obsidian blades they stored in the rafters of their houses. The archaeologists who discovered them came to the conclusion that the primitive civilizations believed keeping them closer to the sun would keep the blades sharper.
Then a mother looked at their findings and said “yeah, they stored their knives in the rafters to keep them out of reach of the children.”
In four billion years, there have been many continents that died.
You’ve heard of the famous ones–Pangaea, proud monolith; Laurasia, home of dinosaurs–but there were others, so many, many others. The grand march of time swallowed islands whole, scraped them up like residue from the baking pan of the world.
Everything has a soul. Everything remembers.
Gondwana floats gently over London now, remembering when the world was hot and green. She loves the lights. There were no lights, when she was alive. There were no lights when the world was so hot and green.
Rodinia settles onto the dry Atacama, bringing moisture from the sea. She moves much faster now, unhindered by gravity and friction, slipping through the walls of this new house. The walls are always moving, yet she stays, floating in and out, bringing moisture.
Vaalbara, eldest and most fire-born, sneaks in tendrils and wisps over her old haunting grounds. Her bones are buried in the outback, ancient cratons resting unrotted through all the fearsome gnawing of time. She likes the summers here. The heat reminds her, so faintly, of what it was like to be born. In the wildfires, she sees the magma oceans of her youth.
Hello! I saw your post talking about that assignment you had to do and you did one of wolves slowly evolving into seals? Would you be able to post that at all?? I would LOVE to read that
honestly, the paper describing it is SUPER dry so I’m not sure how stimulating you’d find it? “Ecological factors drive differentiation in wolves from British Columbia”, Munoz-Fuente et al
there’s a lot of assumption on my part - a self-sustaining wolf pack that’s genetically isolated, swims all day, and has not only developed specialized fish-eating behaviour but has LOST behaviours that let them hunt moose/other large game further from the coast? distinct enough to be considered an Evolutionary Significant Unit? ohohoh my boy those are future seals!
I’d like to make video essays that explore what I’m learning as an Evolutionary Biology student (ex. how the biological sex ‘binary’ is fake af) - would the wolf thing be something you guys want to hear more about?
The baby girl that was born just a few hours ago… her father wants to drown her in milk because he didn’t receive a male heir!
Rekha as Ramdulaari // Lajja (2001)
This is why it angers me when people reduce Bollywood to frivolous musicals made solely for entertainment. Bollywood is a multidimensional platform that exposes a lot of prevalent issues in an often bold and unapologetic manner. Powerful scenes like the above illustrate how the Indian movie industry seeks to enlighten the public. I promise you, it’s not all song and dance.
I’ve been looking for the English sub for months 😢
hello. i am writing to let you know you did good job on the stars, and also on cats.
yours respectfully, me
dear universe,
in the original post of this, it says “dogs” where it now says “cats”. i do not know when (or how) it got changed, but i am glad that someone loved cats enough to do that, because i love my dog and i also love my cats and i felt bad about not mentioning it that first time. i’m also glad for all the tags where people told me what i should have added (like libraries and waffles and maple syrup) and i am glad for all the comments about how much they love their pets (and some people have such cool pets!)
i kind of think, universe, if we are your children, this is our macaroni art. see, see, see, you gave us a little bit of the stars, and we’ve made our own constellations. we tried to give back to you by making art and music and books and bad poetry and our laughter and our love and our tv dramadies. we took pictures of the night sky and pictures of sunsets and pictures of dew, we fell in love with space and the rivers and the rain. i personally have my desktop background as a picture of one of your nebulas. your hair looked great that day.
i think…. you did a good job, universe, on the stars, and what the stars became, because you put us together and yes, yes, things might be terrible - but good gracious did we make so many things worth loving, worth writing to you about, worth telling you - thank you, i’m taking the spark you put in me and using it to be kind, to be alive, to be wildly fierce about our gardens and gentle about our pets.
so hello. i amend my previous memo. i am writing to let you know you did a good job on the stars, and on my dog and my cats and the lizard i kept illegally in my apartment. and universe, i hope you’re watching, because some of the people you made? they’re great, universe, and they’re full of love, just endlessly capable of loving. and they give me hope.
and through them, universe, that’s you. that’s how the stars sing.
yours respectfully, me
This is the most beautiful post I’ve ever read.
that last paragraph was hard to read through my tears
“Hey Goediun, did you finish- ah hell, not MORE earth wildlife.”
“This planet’s completely fucked up Clyod.”
“What the fuck are THOSE?” Guenoid demanded, peering over his co-worker’s mass to squint at the pojection.
“Third-most dominant carnivore on the planet.”
“Yeah but what’s the little thing next to it?”
“Same species.”
“You’re emusifying me.”
“Absoultely not. This thing’s got the genetics from hell. Apparently they just have hundreds if not thousands of copies of any gene they might need and can suffer drastic radiation, inbreeding or rapid enviornmental selection and come out mostly functional organisms. Both of these are actually pretty far from the species average- here, this is a more common specimen.”
“Oh that’s not so bad-”
“Remember how the Humans are Pursuit predators?”
“Oh no. Don’t tell me it can do that endless “Fun Run” Human-Steve did last year for the Beeblebrox Children’s Hospital?”
“It can!” Goeduin writhed gleefully at his partner’s discomfort. “They can do continuous runs for hundreds of miles through the polar regions of the planet, and at tremendous speed! Some of them have a sustainable gallop of over 50 miles per hour!”
“What’s that in civilized Units?”
“uuuuhhh… 210?”
“FUCK.” shouted Clyod, collapsing back into the sleeping tank, though he suspected that there would be no rest for him this cycle as images of the wretched earth creature pursuing him flashed through his ganglian network.
“They’ve got a bite strength that can snap through our building materials and even human bone!” Goeduin continued, vibrating with the kind of wild humor that belied genuine terror. “Thier senses are even more accute than Human-Steve’s! It’s got his entire hearing range and then up into our ‘hypersonic’ vocal range!”
“Great, it can tear me apart after hearing me talk smack. Terrific.” Clyod sighed, dedicating himself to another round of nightmares.
“And it’s Chemosensitivity! They can track prey by the oils left from the prey’s footsteps for MILES! they can even track scents through the air and underwater or buried in in six feet of ‘concrete’!”
“Good grief. With compettion like that, it’s no wonder the humans are so barbaric. Please tell me it’s stupid.”
“They’re comparable to juvenile humans in terms of reasonaing capacity and may be more socially intelligent than adult humans, living in communal groups that can have DOZENS of members. Also they hunt in packs.”
“WHY??” Clyod begged “Why do you even subject yourself, and furthermore, why subject ME to this kind of knowledge? I won’t be able to rechage and be all gross and floppy in the morning.”
“Human-Steve is getting one.”
“…Pardon?”
“Humans keep them as domestic companions. Apparently they’re socially intelligent enough to get humans to raise and feed thier young for life.”
“and. Human-Steve. Is taking on one of these? He’s not worried about it eating him?”
“He said it might nibble on his appendages while it’s teething but that the one his parents kept when he was an infant-”
“HIS PARENTS HAD A DANGEROUS CARNIVORE IN HIS HOME WHILE HE WAS AN INFANT?”
“He showed me many images of them playing and cuddling together. They are quite fond of human children, and not just as snacks.”
“Please tell me he’s getting the little kind.”
“He’s getting a variety called a “Siberian Husky”. He said it was very fluffy.”
I thought I wouldn’t make another one. But it just came to me. I made sure the colour of this one would go well with the other two! I think I like this one the most because the figure is more masculine and it’s morphing together with the mountains more, compared to the other two.
Not vaccinating your child is like saying, “We don’t buckle our kids because we heard about a freak accident where the seat belt cut the child’s leg and his femoral artery bled out.”
Ya know that ‘what are frogs’ post you reblogged a lil bit ago, I have no idea why but my mind immediately supplied ‘baby don’t hurt me, no more’ and if I have to live with this info ,, so do you my dude , I don’t make the rules
gosh but like we spent hundreds of years looking up at the stars and wondering “is there anybody out there” and hoping and guessing and imagining
because we as a species were so lonely and we wanted friends so bad, we wanted to meet other species and we wanted to talk to them and we wanted to learn from them and to stop being the only people in the universe
and we started realizing that things were maybe not going so good for us– we got scared that we were going to blow each other up, we got scared that we were going to break our planet permanently, we got scared that in a hundred years we were all going to be dead and gone and even if there were other people out there, we’d never get to meet them
and then
we built robots?
and we gave them names and we gave them brains made out of silicon and we pretended they were people and we told them hey you wanna go exploring, and of course they did, because we had made them in our own image
and maybe in a hundred years we won’t be around any more, maybe yeah the planet will be a mess and we’ll all be dead, and if other people come from the stars we won’t be around to meet them and say hi! how are you! we’re people, too! you’re not alone any more!, maybe we’ll be gone
but we built robots, who have beat-up hulls and metal brains, and who have names; and if the other people come and say, who were these people? what were they like?
the robots can say, when they made us, they called us discovery; they called us curiosity; they called us explorer; they called us spirit. they must have thought that was important.
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