I'm not sure if it's canon compliant but giving Bones an anxiety disorder makes for such an interesting dynamic. I mean. This man will not bat an eyelash when an augmented war lord tries to strangle him but has to perform breathing exercises before he uses a transporter. Exceptional

Him bordering on a panic attack when Kirk tells him to perform surgery on a rock followed by the god complex "I'm beginning to think I can cure a rainy day" after he actually fucking does it.

Hmm I prefer his fear of transporters being viewed as an emotional reaction, rather than a healthcare professional actually being dismissive of technological progress.

And that fits thematically with the trio representing emotion, logic, and the balance of both.

oh my goodness, one of dian fossey’s first close up observations with gorillas happened when she was trying to climb a tree to see them better, but so badly that by the time she’d gotten up the entire group had come out of hiding to look at her: “Nearly all members of the group had totally exposed themselves, forgetting about hiding coyly behind foliage screens because it was obvious to them that the observer had been distracted by tree-climbing problems, an activity they could understand.”

hello, fellow apes

The lead up to that sentence is gold:

[Image transcript: porch. The group had been day-nesting and sunbathing when I contacted them, but upon my approach they nervously retreated to obscure themselves behind thick foliage. Frustrated but determined to see them better, I decided to climb a tree, not one of my better talents. The tree was particularly slithery and, try as I might, no amount of puffing, pulling, gripping, or clawing succeeded in getting me more than a few feet aboveground. Disgustedly, I was about to give up when Sanwekwe came to my aid by giving one mighty boost to my protruding rump; tears were running from his eyes as he was convulsed in silent laughter. I felt as inept as a baby taking its first step. Finally able to grab on to a conveniently placed branch, I hauled myself up into a respectful semislouch position in the tree about twenty feet from the ground. By this time I naturally assumed that the combined noises of panting, cursing, and branch-breaking made during the initial climbing attempts must have frightened the group on to the next mountain. I was amazed to look around and find that the entire group had returned and were sitting like front row spectators at a sideshow. All that was needed to make the image complete were a few gorilla-sized bags of popcorn and some cotton candy! This was the first live audience I had ever had in my life and certainly the least expected.]

imagine some freakish not-a-human alien THING has shown up out of nowhere and is trying to get into your office building to study you. but it has no idea how to get past a revolving door. it tries for three hours. by the time it finally understands the concept of a revolving door and squeeze into the building everyone in the office is crowded into the lobby to watch and call helpful suggestions. it’s conclusively determined that the alien is definitely not a threat, except maybe to itself.

Addition approved

I'm very curious about something and so I'm making a poll about it obvs lol

If you're making an official phone call, for example calling to make an appointment, enquiring after a flat, hiring a service etc. that type of call, do you begin the call by introducing yourself?

For example: Hi, my name is X and I'm calling to make an appointment.

I'm curious to see this because I lived in another country and had a brain fart and accidentally began a call by introducing myself, like I would in my home country, and the recipient sounded very amused and I knew it was weird and it really is because the service person will do absolutely nothing with this knowledge.

Yes, usa.

It gives me a longer sentence for a script. Gives an extra second if they’re still picking up the phone or whatever. I know they’re gonna say “tell me your name again” when they’re going to type it into the computer anyway. And maybe the person on the other end recognizes me.

I kind of want to replace that with my birthday when calling a pharmacy or clinic, since that’s what they always ask for first lol

its labor day post mpreg karl marx

What political statement is this even meant to convey

“X bodily fluid is just filtered blood!” buddy I hate to break it to you but ALL of the fluids in your body are filtered blood. Your circulatory system is how water gets around your body. It all comes out of the blood (or lymph, which is just filtered blood).

“Okay but why is it always so chemically roundabout and unnecessarily complicated” well buddy, that’s because your blood is imitation seawater. See? It’s very simple.

Blood is what now?

It’s imitation seawater what part is confusing

#are you telling me#humans are just sentient aquariums? 

Buddy if anything is living in your blood (except for more parts of you) in detectable amounts then you have a serious microbial infection and need to go to the hospital.

Humans are seawater wastelands kept sterile of all but human cells, with microbial mats coating their surfaces.

Thank you that’s…very disturbing

It’s not my fault you’re human.

Ok but “It’s not my fault you’re human.” Is the best comeback ever.

You can use it against anyone except children that you biologically helped to create.

#/blood is imitation seawater/ is the part that’s confusing 

Picture this: you are a Thing That Lives In The Ocean. Some kind of small multicellular animal a long time ago, before proper circulatory systems existed. “Wow,” you think, metaphorically, “it sure is difficult to diffuse chemicals across my whole body. Kinda puts a hard limit on the size and distance of what specialised organs I can have. Good thing I have all this water around me that’s the same salinity as my cells (they have to be that way so I don’t explode or shrivel up) so I can diffuse and filter chemicals with that.”

“Wait a minute,” you say a couple of generations later, because you’re not actually a small animal but an evolutionary process personified and simplified to the point of dangerous inaccuracy for the purposes of a Tumblr post, “instead of losing all these important chemicals to the water around me, how about I put it in tubes? I can keep MY water separate from the rest of the world’s water! Anything I want to keep goes in my water! Anything I don’t, I dump back into the outside water! I’m a genius! An unthinking natural trial-and-error process that’s a GENIUS!”

“Wow,” you think a great many generations later, “being able to have such control over such high concentrations of important chemicals is so great. Look how big I’m getting. I even have a special pump to move my seawater around, and these cool filter systems to keep the chemicals in it right, and that control and chemical concentration has let me grow so many energy-intensive, highly specialised organs! Being big is so hard. I need special cells just to carry my oxygen around now, to make sure my enormous, constantly-operating body has enough of it.”

At this point you are embodying a fish, and eventually, fish start straying into water with different pressures and salinity levels. (I mean, they do that since befor ehty’er fish, but… look, I’m trying to keep things simple here.) “What the FUCK,” you think. “My inside water is at a different salinity and pressure to the outside water?? How am I supposed to deal with that? I can’t have freshwater inside my seawater tubes! My cells have a set salinity and they would explode! I need to start beefing up my regulatory and filter systems so that my inside seawater STAYS SEAWATER OF THE CORRECT SALINITY even if the outside water is different! Fortunately, adding salt to my seawater is a lot easier than removing it, and I want to be saltier than this weird outside water.” At this point you beef up your liver and urinary systems to compensate for different salinities. (Note: the majority of fish, freshwater and saltwater, have a fairly narrow band of salinities they can live in. Every fish doesn’t get to deal with every level of salinity; they are evolved to regulate within specific bands.)

You also, at some point, go out on land. This is new and weird because you have to carry all of your water inside. “It’s a good thing I turned myself into a giant bag of seawater,” you think. “If I wasn’t carrying my seawater inside, how would I transport all these important chemicals between my organs and the environment?” As you specialise to live entirely outside of the water, you realise (once again) that it’s a lot easier to add salt to water than to remove it in great quantities. Drinking seawater in large amounts becomes toxic; your body isn’t specialised for removing that amount of salt. Instead, you drink freshwater, and add salts to that. The majority of your organs are, at this point, specialised for moving your seawater around, protecting it, adding stuff to it, or taking stuff out. You have turned yourself into an intelligent bag for carrying and regulating a small amount of imitation seawater, and its salinity (and your commitment to maintaining that salinity) is based entirely on the seawater that some early animals started to build tubes around a long time ago.

And that’s what a human is!

Well, there’s another few steps, of course.

Because at some point, operating along lines of logic that worked out perfectly so far, you did decide to be a mammal.

A mammal is a machine for adapting to Circumstances. A mammal is a tremendously resilient all-terrain life-support system, with built-in heating, cooling, respiration, and incubators for reproduction. Mammals internalise everything (grudges, eggs) and furthermore are excessively, flamboyantly wet internally. Sure, everyone’s a bag of chemicals; but mammals slosh. Mammals took the concept of an internal ocean and took it in an unnecessarily splashy direction, added aftermarket mods and a climate-control system,

and just to show off, you leaned across the metaphorical gambling table and said: “my internal ocean is so good-“

“Bullshit,” said the shark, keeping it salty (ha)

“My internal ocean is so brilliantly resilient, more so than any of YOURS,” you said, holding their attention with a digit held aloft, “that for my next trick, I shall artistically recreate the ballad of evolution as a performance. I shall craft a complex chemical ballet depicting the origin of multicellular life - using some of my own material, of course-”

“Oh, ANYONE can lay an egg,” yodel the fish, and the ray adds: “ontogeny does NOT recapitulate phylogeny!!”

And you’re like, “yeah no, it’s an artistic rendition, not a literal thing. Basically I’m going to take some cells and brew them up-“

“Like an egg.”

“Like an egg. An egg but internally.”

“Yeah,” said the viviparous reptile, “yeah, like, that can work really well. I’ve always said it’s the highest test of one’s chemical know-how. It’s a lot of work. And forget about support from your family - forget about support from your PHYLUM - all you get is criticism.”

“I’m gonna do it on purpose forever,” you said. “The highest chemical, thermoregulatory, immunological, everything-logical challenge. It’s gonna be my thing.”

“I’m with you,” said a viviparous fish, stoutly. “Representation.”

You kindly don’t point out, once again, that you’re planning to do this outside the ocean, in a range of temperatures; carrying the dividing cells in a perfect 37.5• solution of saline broth in all terrains, breathing oxygen in a complicated matter, you know, bit more difficult; but you need your allies.

“It’s solid,” says the coelacanth.

“But is it metal?” says the deep-vent organism.

“Oh, it’s metal. I will feed the young,” you say, magnificently, “on an echo of the mother ocean. The first rich feast of cellular matter, the first hunt for sustenance, the first bite they sip of our liquid planet-”

Everyone waits.

“Will be a blood byproduct. My own blood byproduct.”

Everyone looks uncomfortable.

“But,” a hagfish says carefully, “don’t you outdoorsy guys still need your blood?”

You cough and explain that if you stay wet enough internally and hydrate frequently, you should be able to produce enough blood byproduct to sustain your hellish new invention until they can eat your peers.

The outrage that follows includes questions like “is this some furry shit?” And: “milk has WATER in it?”

And you won the bet. “My inner ocean is such a perfect homage to the primordial soup that I can personally cook up an entire live hairy mammal in it. And then generate excess blood byproduct from my body and give it to the small mammal until it gets big.”

That is an absolutely bonkers pitch, by the way, and everyone thought you were a showoff, even before the opposable thumbs. When the winter came, and the winter of winters, and the rain was acid and the air was poison on the tender shells of their eggs and choked the children in the shells; when the plants turned to poison, and the ocean turned against you all; when the climate changed, and the world’s children fell to shadow; your internal ocean was it that held true. A bet laid against the changing fates, a bet laid by a small beast against climate and geography and the forces of outer space, that you won. The dinosaurs fell and the pterosaurs fell and the marine reptiles dwindled, and you, furthest-child, least-looked-for, long-range-spaceship, held hope internally at 37.5 degrees. Which is another thing that humans do, sometimes.

It has been MONTHS, @elodieunderglass, and I am still mumbling “furthest-child, least-looked-for, long-range-spaceship” under my breath as a comfort phrase, and the FUCKING INDIGNITY that it came from this godforsaken post about THE HORRIBLE WETNESS OF MAMMALS!

“The horrible wetness of mammals” would make a great band name.

“hold hope, internally, at 37.5 degrees” and “Mammals internalize everything (eggs, grudges)” Now live permanently in my vocabulary

I think @elodieunderglass got possessed by the ghost of Terry Pratchett

No she’s always like that

(Possessed)

oh like its so easy to hop over to san franscisco

horse observing its reflection in a mirror hung up on the wall of its home this horses emotions are rather unreadable as while its ears are erect that is no descriptor of the horses true feelings in its soul which leads the viewer to ponder what might an animal that knows nothing of ego or selfishness or vanity feel when it gazes into its own eyes this image evokes a deeper question as well what must it have felt like for the poor ever ignorant ever persistent human who was the first to commit the sin of impossibility by looking clearly into their own eyes on a surface unnaturally flat and unnaturally reflective does this horse see it too does this horse know that a reflection not warped by water nor any of natures attempts to prevent the crime of vanity is the real amalgam do this horses muscles twitch and shiver with the realization of original sin repeated again in its oldest form with potential to once again give way to all that now plagues humanity or does this horse think wow another horse is in the wall somehow

remember all those people who were always going "noo! don't ne mean to the cute doggo! the little pupper!"?

...yeah... we were telling you.

And here's how you disable them:

I am told that the headlines really undersell how rad my tattoo is. I agree.

The extra funny thing is that I got the tattoo mid-semester BECAUSE conservatives flipped their shit about me making a TikTok saying “be gay, do crime” after mentioning that I am a law professor.

Which, by the way, was actually just part of my course content. I do a day on crime as resistance, in which we read about “be gay, do crime” as a slogan.

And when they cut your pay/hours/benefits for no reason maybe you can get your XBOX to collectively bargain your employer for you with the help of your PlayStation. Wow! Thanks XBOX!

And dues are assigned on a sliding scale so you would have to be making absolute fuckin bank to be expected to contribute 700 a year

Workers at #Delta have responded to the company’s anti-union propaganda with their own campaign.

The counter-ad went from zero to a hundred real fucking fast and I am Here For It

The guillotine one is a photoshop of the first picture and is not a real poster, but it ought to be.

Remembering when I went over to my female teacher's house in 5th grade and saw that she lived with another female teacher & went home going "wow, so teachers really do all live together!" & then my family had to explain to me what lesbians are

This reminds me of when I was a kid and my very Scottish grandma did child minding for extra money. At one point she looked after these three siblings that were adopted from Guatemala. The kids had two moms. It was the 90s and I'm Canadian.

Now, you would think that even in the 90s most adults would see two women who live in the same house and have adopted children together and think "Harold, they're lesbians". My mom certainly did, internally, but my grandma never brought it up, leaving my mom to wonder whether my grandma was being uncharacteristically discreet or if there was something about the situation my mom was misreading.

One day my grandma needed a hand with something to do with the kids, so my mom came over to the house, whereupon she noticed that the two women who lived together slept in one bedroom, and said "ohhh, they're lesbians."

To which my grandmother indignantly rebutted, "they're not lesbians, they're Scottish."

According to my grandmother, you see, it's cold in Scotland, so women live and sleep together all the time and women who do this are not lesbians, because it's cold (????). Therefore, upon noticing two women living together in Western Canada, adopting children together, and sleeping in the same bed together year-round, my grandma had mentally categorized these women as Scottish.

with gay people often characterized as perverted, revolting, perhaps also queer (if from *þwerhaz) – referring to the act of twisting, rolling, turning, I think the next thing we should appropriate is the wheel

I'm going to have to learn how to DRIVE!?

I bet you didn't expect that when you heard about "getting turnt"

Interview with Khalil Abu Yahia, in From the River to the Sea - Essays for a Free Palestine (2023)