Hey girl im consuming a new media
Story time:
In middle school biology, we did an experiment. We were given yams, which we would sprout in cups of water. We then had to make hypotheses about how the yams would grow, based on descriptions of yam plants in our books, and make notes of our observations as they grew.
Here’s what was supposed to happen: we were supposed to see that the actual growth of the plant did not resemble our hypotheses. We were then supposed to figure out that these were, in fact, sweet potatoes.
What actually happened was that every single student in every single class lied in their notes so that their observations perfectly matched their hypotheses. See, everyone assumed the mismatch meant they had done something wrong in the process of growing the plant or that they had misunderstood the dichotomous key or the plant identification terminology. And, thanks to the wonders of a public school education, everyone assumed the wrong results would get us a failing grade. We were trying to pass. We didn’t want to get bitched out by the teacher. Curiosity, learning, science - that had nothing to do with why we were sitting in that classroom. So we all lied.
The teacher was furious. She tried to fail every student, but the administration stepped in and told her she wasn’t allowed to because a 100% fail rate is recognized as a failure of the teacher, not the class. It wasn’t even her fault, really, though her being a notorious hard-ass didn’t help. It was a failure of the entire educational system.
So whenever I see crap like Elizabeth Holmes’s blood test scam or pharmaceutical trials which are unable to be replicated or industry-funded research that reaches wildly unscientific conclusions, I just remember those fucking sweet potatoes. I remember that curiosity dies when people are just trying to give their superiors the “right” answers, so they can get the grade, get the job, get the paycheck. It’s not about truth when it’s about paying rent. There’s no scientific integrity if you can’t control for human desperation.
me taking my meds, chanting: meth! meth! meth! meth! *pauses to swallow pill* meth! meth! meth! meth! meth!
https://www.abc.net.au/news/2020-08-22/food-plant-solutions-malnutrition-farming-edible-plants/12580732
https://fms.cmsvr.com/fmi/webd/Food_Plants_World
This guy is my new hero. I LOVE learning about native food plants that just grow everywhere without human help.
The database is a little clunky to use (especially on a phone), but still loads of excellent information.
An ebook reader could potentially change your life!
I have discovered that“don’t judge a book by it’s cover” does not apply to people with adhd.
If the book in question does not display the EXACT kind of cover art, texture, and size I want I will not buy it. I just won’t. I don’t care if it has won multiple awards, I don’t care if everyone is recommending it, if it make brain go “hands and eyes no like >:0″ I will not purchase it.
As a non-English speaker as well, I think cross, horse, sauce and boss can all rhyme
Today's Adventure is that I, after an unintentional 13-hour power nap,
Got woken up at 6AM by a phone call from a friend stranded in Montana because of the heat wave and almost no cell service because of their crap provider.
OhSoThat'sHowIt'sGonnaBe.jpg
Ok.
I somehow summon a week's worth of spoons and in less than 30 minutes and 5 phone calls, get them
A hotel
An appointment with a mechanic from 2 states away
A perscription refilled from 2 states away
and A Pizza
Go me.
But then it's 8AM and there are unscheduled live humans at the door and while EVERGENCY MODE is still on, I have already blown through a ton of spoons, and also probably shouldn't meet whoever it is wearing just a pair of bootyshorts that say "CRYPTID" in Gothic Font on my ass.
So I greet them in those shorts and a T-shirt that I manage to put on both inside out and backwards
#nailedit
It is, Fortunately, not the mormons.
it is, Unfortunately, two UPS guys trying to deliver my other in-house friend's new phone except the new guy doesn't know how to operate the "sign for package" device, and the old guy that's supposed to be mentoring him is like, 92, deaf as a post, and doesn't actually know how to operate the device either.
by the way
it is already
over 100 out
it takes almost 30 minutes to sign for the phone
when i get back inside, i discover that apparently the Corgi has learned how to open his kennel from the inside because he is now out of the kennel and waiting for me to come in.
he also has cat litter all over his face because while he was waiting for me he also learned how to open the baby gate to the cat's room and help himself to a cat shit breakfast.
He'll be fine
He's a cattle dog, they're legally required to have at least 1 really disgusting snack they love.
but
more to the point
i have no idea at what point he learned to open his kennel from the inside
has he been staying there out of politeness this whole time??
And
I got other shit to do today.
namely.
I'm seeing a realator
The Devils most pathetic yet effective demons
I get a reminder text that I have an appointment with her
at least
I think that's what it is because what she sends me is: "🏡⏰12:00 ❔"
With the time typed in the middle like that.
She is, according to her profile, at least 80.
so I reply "😎👍"
and then she sends me a string of GODDAMN POST-MODERN EMOJI HEIROGLYPHICS THAT TAKE UP MY ENTIRE SCREEN.
She's on an iPhone so half of them don't even translate across platforms
It takes me half an hour and three different software programs and goddamn wingdings to translate, but she has sent me the address and rules about masking and not wearing shoes inside.
in emoji
instead of like
literally any other format
I am
FASCINATED
and simply must meet the woman so if I don't come back to update I got stolen by the fairies but I'm taking the Corgi with me as protection so I'll see y'all later.
People, especially games, get eldritch madness wrong a lot and it’s really such a shame.
An ant doesn’t start babbling when they see a circuit board. They find it strange, to them it is a landscape of strange angles and humming monoliths. They may be scared, but that is not madness.
Madness comes when the ant, for a moment, can see as a human does.
It understands those markings are words, symbols with meaning, like a pheromone but infinitely more complex. It can travel unimaginable distances, to lands unlike anything it has seen before. It knows of mirth, embarrassment, love, concepts unimaginable before this moment, and then…
It’s an ant again.
Echoes of things it cannot comprehend swirl around its mind. It cannot make use of this knowledge, but it still remembers. How is it supposed to return to its life? The more the ant saw the harder it is for it to forget. It needs to see it again, understand again. It will do anything to show others, to show itself, nothing else in this tiny world matters.
This is madness.