31,000 likes...dave malloy is the peoples princess <3

OOHHHHH sopranos like the singers

HBO’s Sopranos: hark at the ducks 🦆 give zero fucks 🦆 in Tony’s pool 🦆 pasta fazool 🍝

altos: bada biNg 🔫 bada boOm 🔫 bada biNg 🔫 bada boOm 🔫

Few facts that need correcting here. “Carol of the Bells” is a newer arrangement of an ancient Ukranian folk melody called Shchedryk [wikipedia]. The alto line actually does sound quite haunting if you sing it with the Ukranian lyrics (which have nothing to do with bells or Christmas) instead of the obnoxious “ding dong” English lyrics that Wilhousky wrote in 1936:

My gosh! Take 2 minutes for a little bit of beauty. You won’t regret it.

PERCEVAL LE GALLOIS (1978) dir. Éric Rohmer

I reblogged a comic the other day about a doctor watching House, MD and diagnosing toxoplasmosis, tagging it with "you're more likely to get toxoplasmosis from a salad than a cat". There's a story behind that.

I used to work in the kennel at a vet clinic. One day one of the vet techs came into the kennel in a tearing hurry, handed me two cat carriers, and said, "Find a cage for these two. Don't know how long, but you can put them together." And then she left.

This was not how that was supposed to happen. I had no cage cards--no names, no feeding instructions, no health information--they weren't on the schedule, and techs didn't usually intake boarders. Medical cases had a separate kennel, so a tech shouldn't be bringing me an animal in during office visit hours. But I had a cage in the cat room, so I tucked them in--two adult females, very friendly, apparently healthy.

Half an hour later the tech came back--with cage cards--and said, "It's okay, they're staying overnight and going home tomorrow." She slumped against the kennel wall and told the cats' story.

They had been brought to the clinic to be euthanized, to die.

These healthy, friendly, beloved cats had been brought in to be killed, because a woman's doctor, her obstetrician, had told her that they had killed her unborn baby. He told her if she ever wanted a child she had to get rid of the cats. He told her they should be euthanized before they killed any other woman's unborn child.

He said, with no evidence, that they had toxoplasmosis. He said that toxoplasmosis caused her miscarriage.

The woman was distraught. She had just lost her baby, she was dealing with the hormonal changes of the pregnancy loss, and now she had to euthanize her beloved cats. Fortunately no vet I've ever worked for will euthanize healthy animals brought in by a sobbing client without asking why!

The vet spent almost an hour talking to the woman, educating her on toxoplasmosis, telling her all the reasons her doctor was wrong.

So basically the vet told the woman that 1) her miscarriage probably wasn't toxoplasmosis, 2) even if it was, she probably didn't get it from her cats, 3) even if her cats had given her toxoplasmosis, they weren't infectious anymore.

The woman kept her cats and got a new obstetrician.

Human doctors get a few lectures on zoonotic diseases--diseases transmitted from animals to humans or vice versa. Veterinarians get semesters. If a doctor ever tells you your animals have given you a disease, get a second opinion from your vet!

go get yourself a book!!

just remember, one day you're going to open tumblr and the crabs will be raving like they never have before

scenes from the annual navy/aerial corps reunion*

*some minor time travel required

currently maybe possibly single-handedly crashing whatever servers eton hosts its archived student newspapers on because me and a friend are getting obsessed with a single outspoken prefect from 1883

@queenlua Happily! This is going to be long, so here’s some set dressing first:

Eton College, for anyone unfamiliar, is a prestigious boys’ school in England that has famously educated MANY MANY politicians, royals, nobility, and other assorted famous people. All you really need to know about it is that’s it’s incredibly posh and expensive and exclusive

The Eton Society (called “Pop” internally) is a self-selecting body of senior students at Eton that have historically held a decent amount of power at the school. If you’ve ever attended a school with a prefect system/house system etc you probably know a little bit about how obnoxious this kind of group can get. Now imagine they’re all called Lord Godfrey Pickerington or something. Are you getting it? Is the set being dressed? Good.

Now that the scene is set, here’s our tale!!

I stumbled into Eton’s archives while doing research for a fanfiction and we’ll just leave that admission where it is!! It was in reading old issues of their student-run paper, The Chronicle, from 1883 that myself and @carebewear started becoming fixated on one guy in particular.

Cecil B. Gedge (from this point on known as Gedge) was a member of the Eton Society in 1883/84. He won a few Science awards during his time there (Biology!!) and seemed to like rowing during school sports events. He went on to become a barrister, which will make sense once you know more about him.

The best part of Gedge, though, is his appearances in the minutes for the Eton Society meetings. At least at Gedge’s time, the Eton Society seemed really fond of staging debates (more like loosely organised discussions) on a wide variety of topics.

Here are some of the riveting questions they discussed!

And my personal favourite: “Are Ghosts Real?”

(They were very divided)

Gedge first came to our attention in debate about the annexation of New Guinea, in which he apparently started an “abusive attack on the British army and missionaries”:

Wow! Based Gedge!? He continues to spit period-typical truths about things like how we shouldn’t tax bicycles actually because it would disproportionately affect poor people. YIMBY Gedge?? He would’ve loved light rail.

The final nail in our Gedge obsession was a debate on women’s suffrage, in which Gedge vehemently advocates for women’s right to vote and then gets no supporters at the end of the meeting. But I appreciate that he said it anyway and kept saying it. He is more persecuted that Christ, to me.

Here are some more, from anti-conscription sentiment to indirectly calling his classmates stupid to weirding everyone out by saying he wants to donate his body to science (his friend dissecting him for fun):

We started getting the feeling people might not have liked Gedge that much, mainly since one of the Society members wrote a poem about all his friends and Gedge isn’t in it.

In 1884, there was some extended drama in the Chronicle where someone whom I groundlessly suspect was Gedge under a pseudonym (“A Socialist”), wrote to the editor complaining that the “debates” published by the Eton Society were “bad” (genuine quote) and that they should make a REAL debate society at the school that ALL boys, not just the self-selected seniors, could participate in:

To make a long story short most of the vocal members of the Eton Society threw up their hands at this and refused to do anything, basically boiling down to “Just because we’re the prefects of the school doesn’t mean we should have to actually DO anything!! Unfair!!” and also this quote which reads exactly like at least a thousand real tweets I’ve seen in my life

Liberal. Gedge, of course, was there giving practical suggestions, but the discussion was ultimately cut short because their principal died and they had to push a memorial issue of the paper. We have a working theory that the staff might’ve used that interruption as an opportunity to get the boys to cut it the fuck out.

Anyway it’s a little unclear what happens to Gedge after that. He isn’t credited as being in the 1884 Eton Society in the larger school register but it’s unclear if that’s because he wasn’t re-elected or if he just graduated. Either way, he went on to become a barrister in London, which makes a lot of sense. Sadly though, he passed away in WW1, which we were really normal about

Thank you Lt. Gedge, for truly embodying the eternal spirit of an outspoken debate-kid, a friend to the lefties, a proto-yimby, a terminal back-talker, and the kid in a biology class that’s a little too excited for the dissections. I hope your life, however short, was a rich and bright one. Thanks for the incredibly entertaining afternoon, brother 🫡

if you're feeling powerless right now—and god knows I am—here's a reminder you can donate to the National Network of Abortion Funds, the Trans Law Center, Gaza Soup Kitchen, the Palestine Children's Relief Fund, and hundreds of other charities that will work to mitigate the damage that has been and will continue to be inflicted

life continues. we still have the capacity to do good, important work. that matters

refraining from a lot of election joke posting and instead I just donated $55 USD to gaza soup kitchen and i encourage anyone else to consider donating even a couple of dollars to the people who will be affected the most from whatever outcome happens

you can also donate to care for gaza here

Might be in part due to the stress but this news legit just made me cry.

Hey, also, all the anarchist shit aside, tomorrow I want you to make something.

I forced myself to draw something after the 2016 election. I forced myself to draw something when my mother died in 2018. I forced myself to draw something when my spouse was hospitalized for multiple organ failure in 2021.

When you are miserable, make something. Add a row to your project, bake a box cake, draw on a sheet of lined paper, write a poem on a napkin, fold an origami shirt out of a dollar bill, make your favorite recipe for dinner, but make something with your hands, something that you can hold and look at engage your senses in.

It won't fix the world, but it will change the world. You will have made something that didn't exist before. You will have impacted your reality, even in a very small way. And it is going to be something you made *after.* Something bad happened, something shook you, and you made something after, in spite of it.

I'm certain this is on Tumblr somewhere, but I haven't seen it around, so I'm sharing it myself

message to all bitches

please survive

I must not watch election coverage. Election coverage is the mind-killer. Election coverage is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will cast my vote. I will permit the result to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the election coverage has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.