twinberry:

twinberry:

My hip new communications theory is actually that millennial/gen z/internet native humor is so weird and abstract because of the sheer amount of words we’re exposed to daily. we’ve heard a lot of words in a lot of different orders so if you wanna get a reaction out of us you usually gotta put words in an order we haven’t seen before

So like normally structured jokes aren’t as funny anymore but “lemon lime spine” is a one-hit K.O.

vampireapologist:

vampireapologist:

my fav thing in wildlife research is the concept of animals being “trap happy” meaning the same animal goes into a trap on purpose again and again after it’s caught the first time bc it was like “hey…..there was food in there and Zero (0) predators and then they just let me go in the morning…….”

on one hand it fucks up our data but on the other hand……..I Get It you Funky Little Rodents

if it were pouring rain on my walk home from work at night and I found a big metal box full of pizza and a bed where no one else could bother me and the only condition is that in the cold light of day I’d have to face a bunch of scientists weighing me and then letting me go on the sidewalk I’d probably end up in there a lot.

surelytomorrow:

moniquill:

rubyvroom:

Can I watch a great film knowing the actresses in it were terrorized and mistreated the entire time? Can I watch a football game knowing that the players are getting brain injuries right before my eyes? Can I listen to my favorite albums anymore knowing that the singers were all beating their wives in between studio sessions? Can I eat at the new fancy taco place knowing when the building that used to be there got bulldozed eight families got kicked out of their homes so they could be replaced with condos and a chain restaurant? Can I wear the affordable clothes I bought downtown that were probably assembled in a sweatshop with child labor? Can I eat quinoa?

Can I eat this burger? Can I drink this bottled water? Can I buy a car and drive to work because I’m sick of taking an hour each way on the subway? Whose bones do I stand on? Whose bones am I standing on right now? 

On one hand, it’s a privilege to be able to choose to acknowledge these horrors or not–we’re going to acknowledge that privilege. On the other hand, I once attended a lecture by the explorerer-conservationist Jacques-Yves Cousteau’s daughter and son and they had a lot of opinions about what we could do to help the environment and the ocean and I talked about how in my country, we have to drink bottled water, because it’s a desert and there’s only salt water all around, but we’re contributing to pollution and all of these things…

And she looked at me and told me not to fall into the trap of “activist guilt.” I couldn’t remember the exact words, but, it was the first time I’d heard the term and it took a weight off my shoulders.

We do what we can. It’s so much better than giving up entirely or not doing anything at all because we can’t do it perfectly. It doesn’t benefit anyone in the end if we just sit around feeling guilty about every little thing in life. I’d just joined tumblr back then (haha, so like, eight or nine years ago at this point?), I was being exposed to way more than I’d ever been before (I was previously just into feminism and animal rights/wildlife conservation/environmentalism since I was a kid), and it was weighing on me.

As long as humans are humans and living flawed lives, many consumed by greed, there will not be anything in this world untouched by evil.

I usually avoid stuff that says it was made in China or other cheap looking knockoffs, out of fear of them being made in sweatshops (now, I know even a lot of big brands use those…), it’s exhausting. Then, I read something about how people who actually lived and worked in those would still buy this cheap stuff and how this shocked the foreigner reporting on it, but they just looked confused like, it’s what they can afford and them avoiding consuming it isn’t going to change the whole system from the ground-up.

… it went on about how “money talks” and choosing where to put your money still feeds the whole capitalist system and is nearly a way of comforting yourself, but you not buying doesn’t mean everyone else isn’t. What needs to be tackled is at a much higher level than any of us can reach.

Of course, I’d still, given the choice, give my money to companies I agree with and I’ll boycott what I know to support awful stuff, but I also feel no superiority over this and know now it’s not as black and white or easy as I thought it was.

This is the same reason that moral purity “you can’t enjoy [x] because it’s Problematic ™” is such nonsense, because nothing is pure. There’s something bad about everything if you dig deep enough. As long as we lived in flawed human societies we’ve got to make the best of what they offer us. If you have the choice and means, please, do support those who do good, but also, don’t beat yourself up over not living up to an unattainable ideal.

No one can. You’ll just make yourself so miserable, you either burn up and stop fighting entirely or you’ll make yourself a non-productive, depressed heap just out of a bleeding heart left unchecked. You can’t make a change to this world if you refuse to engage in it.

Have a related article with self-care tips for activists.

one-time-i-dreamt:

I met Seth Everman at a con of some kind, and he came up to me and asked me if I was cosplaying as him bc I was wearing his iconic sweater and sunglasses. I said no and pulled out a furless cat out of my bag that was wearing a tiny Seth Everman hoodie and mini sunglasses, then said, “THIS is Seth Everman.” I put the cat down in front of him and gave it a tiny piano and it started playing it really well and Seth looked so impressed that I started crying.

eversolewd:

yumantimatter:

mistbornthefinal:

speakertoyesterday:

identicaltomyself:

yieldsfalsehoodwhenquined:

another-normal-anomaly:

regexkind:

argumate:

invertedporcupine:

koito-yuu:

yumantimatter:

jaiwithinnumerableunblinkingeyes:

tommyeatseaton:

sufficientlylargen:

Every time I see a post about updog I’m torn between not wanting to fall for it and wanting to help the poster complete their joke.

okay but what’s updog ?

Updog is a long sausage in a bun often served with ketchup, mustard, onion e, and/or relish.

No, that’s a hotdog. An updog is when a new version or patch of an application is released

You’re thinking of update. Updog is when you end a sentence with a rising intonation.

No, that’s uptalk.  You’re thinking of the fourth-largest city in Sweden.

surely that’s Uppsala, whereas Updog is the giant spider in Harry Potter.

That’s Aragog. Updog is a symbol conventionally used for an arbitrarily small number in analysis proofs

You’re thinking of epsilon. Updog is an upward-moving air current.

no that’s an updraft

updog isn’t a noun at all, it’s a verb; it basically means to chew someone out, or harshly lecture them

No, that’s upbraid. An updog is a small dog that likes cuddling on people’s laps.

No that’s a puppydog. An updog is when the Mets win.

No that’s an upset. An updog is the modern version of a henway.

What’s a henway?

Oh, about 5 pounds.

thegreenpea:

outofpocket-prince:

silent-calling:

You teach them responsibility by entrusting them with these devices.

You teach them teamwork by taking them away at night and storing them in your room.

My dad kept the computer locked and monitored (and only used when under direct supervision), an intolerable situation to which my little brother and I reacted with gusto. We set up a camera to get the password, coded password guessers, bootcamped a Mac to allow us to use an entirely different system, and figured out various ways to avoid logging internet activity, logins, and even the hidden camera my dad set up. He would discover our new hack and put even more restrictions (he is very computer literate), and we would crack it again. We learned computer security just because my dad didn’t want us to.

I breezed through AP comp sci into a tech field. Ironically, I was introduced to porn because I was looking for another bypass and stumbled into a BDSM site so I can also blame my dad for me being a freaky ho.

Out of all the responses to this post. Yours was my favourite. I cried laughing when I saw the last paragraph