sorry im high & thinking thoughts. does anyone wanna hear about my theory/philosophy of the kyriarchy & how it works
I can't do a more deep opinion on this orca thing because yeah one can say "go orcas!", it feels good, doesn't it?...
but in fact those must be very scattered cases that won't change the fact that the current situation is that ocean transport is noisy, it's everywhere, and it must be driving these very, very sensitive animals crazy. Before motors, a whale could listen to what was happening in South Africa from the Argentine coast. Now their range of communication must have dropped to only a few kilometers: moreover, all the noise must be insane. There have been studies saying that even things like lawnmowers can make permanent ear damage to small rodents, and birds have had to adapt to city noises (their songs changed to a more "natural" pattern during the pandemic lockdowns) So I can't imagine what such things must be doing to the minds of orcas, one of the animals with the most complex and intelligent behavior registered outside of primates, and extremely sensitive to sound. Can we even understand what they're going through right now.
And this is not to mention the widespread whale (baleen whales, not orcas) hunting that decimated their populations to an absurd degree. All the world is currently going through a beyond worrying trend of defaunation, but whales were particulary hurt. There were 250.000 (estimated) blue whales before whaling, and they were decimated to less than 2000. Even today, with strict conservation measures, there's around 10-25k blue whales, and that's one species. Let that sink in.
Is there a solution to this, besides returning to the age of sail and banning ocean explotation? I don't know, there might be. I hope there is.
When I read about orcas, about their behavior, about their pods with their own almost cultural quirks and even dialects, so much we don't know about them, I only remember Arthur C. Clarke, when he spoke about blue whales: “We do not know the true nature of the entities we are destroying”
Had an awful day today, but here have a slightly updated Hahli for her MNOGII look~
I'm going to go pass out now
it doesn't matter how much you tell tumblr that all their silly and bad features don't work and you hate them because they're not for you. they're jingling keys to dangle in front of venture capitalists, the most gullible motherfuckers on earth, so they will keep pouring money into the giant money pit that is this website. this is also why all social media websites add features pretty much
At least once a month someone will write “anarchism isn’t about no hierarchies, anarchism is about no UNJUST hierarchies” and will then name the most extremely fucked up hierarchy as their example of a ‘just’ hierarchy.
Like, no, comrade, the doctor-patient relationship is NOT a just hierarchy. The power that doctors have to not just give advice but to decide for us which care we get and which care we don’t get is deeply fucked up. Speak to a woman and you will get on average like 4 stories about medical abuse by sexist doctors who didn’t want to google ‘endometriosis’. Then speak to trans people. Then speak to fat people. Then speak to people of color. Then speak to a disabled person. I promise you will be horrified by what marginalized people endure under the doctor-patient hierarchy. Our bodies should definitely be ours to control.
It’s interesting how diseases rip through schools at incredible speeds despite being in an arguably modern, clean(ish) environment. I wonder if it has something to do with the whole “you need a doctor’s note to excuse your absence of even one day” combined with the average price of going to a doctor, the lack of education on things like “you’re still contagious even after the fever goes away”, and the overwhelming message of “if you don’t struggle through it, you’re a failure!”
the whole "how to fix the USAmerican food system" thing has become a major interest of mine, and much of why I find this topic engaging is that no one seems to discuss or propose any solutions that are very good
So here's my beef with ChatGPT. Even aside from the issues with plagiarism, cheating, people using it to fake the work that they absolutely need to be actually doing, &etc.
With the advent of the internet we've been in a situation where all the knowledge available to humanity could, conceivably, be made available to everyone at all times. We've had enormous public works built towards that purpose -- libraries, Wikipedia, archives, everything. But an increasing problem as the years have gone by has been the problem of sorting out the signal from the noise. Sorting out real, helpful advice from scams and snake-oil. Paths that lead to dead-ends as sources of information go down and don't come back up. Trying to figure out who's a real expert, who's even a real person in a sea of fake generated avatars. Distinguishing wheat from chaff, usable material from trash.
And the makers of ChatGPT -- and every other AI programmer who's now trying to jump on the bandwagon -- is looking at this problem and saying "You know what this situation needs? More noise. More fakes. More chaff. More dead-ends and empty shells. I think we have TOO MUCH useful information and real expertise. I think we should shake things up by adding more utterly contentless garbage to the mix." And they created an automated noise generator.
Just imagine being on the bank of a pond and saying "ah, this is a lovely pond, the fish and plants are so beautiful, I'm just having trouble seeing them through the silt in the water" and the person next to you says "I'm going to build a factory on the bank of this pond that does nothing but pour more dirt into it. All day. Every day. Nonstop." And then everyone else overhears them and says "Oh, what a fantastic idea! I'm going to create my OWN sludge-factory to get in on this action!"
Something that I think should be an important part of solarpunk aesthetics is screws.
Look at your smartphone. No screws. You've got to have specialized tools to get inside your phone to repair something. There are certain pieces of tech that are glued in place and glue can't be undone without permanently breaking the bond.
But screws!
You can take apart a broken old radio, repair what's broken, and, if you were careful in taking it apart, you can put it back together and have a fully functioning radio and all you need is a common screwdriver!
It's hard to build screws and other mechanical fasteners because it requires more planning than clamps and glues, but isn't that what solarpunk is all about‽ It's about care and sustainability and and a radio or a computer built carefully with repair in mind is a sustainable computer that stays out of landfills and in use.
i am not "mentally a child." i am mentally an adult, because i am in my early 20s. i do not care how childish i seem; that never gives anyone the right to say that i am mentally a child. i am an adult who doesn't want nor deserves to be compared to a child.
i do not care how many times i watch sesame street, i do not care that my reading level is low, i do not care that i need lots of things simplified to me, i do not care about all the things i do that make me seem childish. i still am an adult and deserve to be treated like one. i will never be "mentally a child."
this theory hurts people with intellectual disability and i am tired of seeing it.
Messing around with the AI, behold my abomination
"you don't owe anybody anything" has done irreparable damage to the minds of the youth
Being overstimulated is such a weird thing to explain to people. Like "hey sorry, I'm not mad at you and this is nobody's fault and I'm not blaming anyone for it happening, I am aware this is a part of regular everyday life but I am mentally crumbling because There Have Been Things Happening nonstop for 5 hours straight back to back with no breaks, and I really need to sit down in complete silence for like 15-25 minutes, after which I will be completely fine and can proceed as normal. But if I'm not allowed to have that, I will resort to violence."
“Where are your Matoran, Bahtu? I’ve seen no one on the hike up here.”
The Turaga fiddled idly with his stick. His eyes wandered around the empty village.
“They are…they are gone, old friend.”
“Gone?”
“Yes.”
“Gone where? And why? What happened?”
“They were…broken.”
“Explain! Who did this?”
“Now calm yourself, my friend. My nerves are not what they used to be.”
The Toa stepped forward, lowering his voice.
“Tell me what happened, Bahtu. Was it Zygl–”
The Turaga began to speak gravely:
“It started with small things, you see. Day by day. Small changes. Small…deviations. A lost minute here or there. A construction made slightly different from the Standard. A repair completed with…I don’t have the word…” The Turaga gestured limply, “…a ‘flourish’, maybe, as the Great Beings might have said. Maybe that.”
“I don’t underst–”
“–All still workable, to be sure,” the Turaga continued unbothered. “Still workable, but…but deviant, you see. Not according to the Great Standard. The Saa Nui is very demanding if us, as you know. And to stray would be disastrous.”
“So you say. And what then?”
“Oh, what then…let me see. Well, then came other strange things. The Matoran would…would talk to each other. Have you ever heard of such a thing? Not simply transmitting information, I mean, but…but talking for its own sake. I would catch them sometimes, coming around a corner, speaking about something or other that was clearly beyond the scope of that moment’s Duty. And though I corrected them, still they persisted. Even worse: they whispered instead. So many whispers. The village was full of whispering, day and night. I could not stop them all.”
“Go on.”
“Oh yes, yes, and then there were questions.”
“Questions are not out of the ordinary.”
“Of course not, no…but these questions were different. They began to ask all manner of things, inane things, like ‘Why do the sky-stars burn out at night?’ or ‘Where does the Great Spirit live?’ Once, one even asked me ‘Why should we work to fulfill our Duty?’”
The Turaga shook his head, “I was aghast, as you may imagine. I did not know what to say! I sent that Matoran away to work on the mountainside, away from the others, for a time, lest they…lest they ‘talk’ about it.”
“I still do not see what–”
“–And that’s not even the worst of it! Oh, my friend, one day…One day, they asked me for names. New names. Can you imagine it? Each and every one of them I named when they were brought forth from the eles raliska–gave them the embodiment of their Duty, their place in our world, and they thought they knew better! I could not bear it then. So…I sent them…away.”
“Where? To work on the mountainside?” The Toa looked up, scanning the hills in the distance, “Where did you send them?”
“No…to be mended.”
A light breeze made the thorn-trees rattle on the edge of the village. The shadows of the crumbling huts crept longer. The Turaga stopped fidgeting.
“You sent them to–”
“–To Him, yes! It was the only thing to be done.”
The Turaga began to gesture agitatedly, his words pouring out faster: “I put forth the summons, you see, and the Great Crabs came up from the sea, and–”
The Toa stepped closer, cutting him off:
“You know that few have ever returned from His Land. You know this.”
“Oh…I know. But it was right. They were too far gone. It would have been a disaster if I hadn’t. And if they do not return, then…well, more can be called up, if Mata wills it, and I will give them their names, and…”
“How long ago.”
“I…oh…perhaps some days–”
“–all of them?–”
“–…or years?” the Turaga mused. “My timing is all off now, you see, without the rhythm of their work. But it will soon be put right. Soon. Do not worry.”
“Years…” The Toa shook his head, “So you have been here alone, all this time. Doing nothing.”
“Waiting! Preparing! It will all be put right soon. Soon! You’ll see.”
“I cannot see that. The village is…”
The Toa looked around at the ruins of the village once more, lapsing into silence.
“They were broken, old friend. I could not let them suffer in that way. It was not right.”
“Did they fail in their work?”
“They deviated. It was necessary.”
A long silence followed.
“I see now,” the Toa said at last, in a quiet voice.
“Ah, that is good. You are a Toa, after all! Of all beings, you would understand. It had to be done, to keep the order of the world. It is what we are made for, you and I.”
Lesovikk’s hands closed slowly, slowly into fists, clenching until the armor of his gauntlets creaked. His gaze narrowed to a point, fixed upon the small, pathetic being before him. The wind died.
“I am not a Toa anymore.”
I have realized that the perfect form of media must have a delicate balance between absolutely heart wrenching pure emotional devastation and the most ridiculous nonsense you have ever seen in your whole life
I think it needs to become common knowledge that "inability to read social cues" can show up as overcompensating.
You don't know how much misbehaviour is allowed, so you become the perfect child who never tests rules.
You don't know if someone is irritated with you, so you'll be extra generous and self-effacing.
You don't know how much is expected of you at work so you'll kill yourself in a minimum-wage job and not notice that nobody else is working like this.
"Hardworking and quiet" should be as much of an autism red flag as "ignores rules and doesn't know when to stop talking". Or why don't we just start using words to communicate so i can stop tracking everybody's eyebrow twitches, that would be great.
*through gritted teeth* you are not a child taking a test with the purpose of getting the highest score, you are an adult trying new things and finding ways to enjoy your life, make mistakes, be a beginner, be mediocre, be where you need to be, be unlikeable, just. be.
i dread having to negotiate a salary or a major purchase, or do any kind of haggling.
there's a real person right there in front of me and they do not want what is best for me. they are going to try to harm me, even if it's only financial harm. i care about other people, right? i don't want to hurt them by making them accept a bad deal. i want to surrender, to let them have whatever they want, but i’m not allowed to. i’m punished if i do.
above all, i loathe the fact that i'm supposed to be nice and pretend that we're friendly when money is turning us into enemies.
love how when i get a new interest, i’m like “oh god it’s happening again” and i’m stuck like that for about a week until everything explodes and any interest i’ve had prior is completely dwarfed for an unknown amount of time
Yeah the stereotype of every autistic person being a super genius who has a hard time communicating and conveying their thoughts into vernacularly understandable words has got to die like, now.
This came across my youtube and I think it fits Secily, end of thought process.
My nook's cramps have worsened since the murder of my matesprit. Corporate is doing nothing, and my boss says that my detective skills, however brilliant, have no place near this investigation. I have always been a woman who puts her job before her personal life, but what about personal death? My obsession with my job nearly cost me my kismesissitude, and now my obsession with my matesprit's death may cost me my job. I failed my matesprit in life, I will do her justice in death. Who am I? I'm Secily Iopara, and this is my story...
one thing you need to know about me is that i am constantly having insane galaxy genius ancient greek philosopher level thoughts about everything ever all the time but before leaving my mouth they get filtered through seven layers of autism and come out sounding like a youtube comment made by a nine year old
Neurotypicals: Think Autistic people are exceptionally literal.
Autistics: Describe their experiences using phrases like:
My brain feels like it’s filled with cotton laced with barbed wire, it’s not safe for me to make decisions right now.
I’m entering a Wait Mode until we leave.
Just looking at that rotten food makes my skin feel slimy.
Neurotypicals: Assume the Autistics are using metaphorical language to exaggerate common experiences.
Yeah I’m a white American I don’t really think there’s anything I can have for culture
You're so brave for saying this
Dino Mommy Summer
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.
decided to go through with deleting it just now
Headcanon: The specific wording here, “all the tales told by his species”, isn’t just a shorthand for “all the tales told about Irnakk by his species”. Rather, it’s a convention in Skakdi storytelling that the end of every story features a gruesome murder of all the characters by Irnakk, even if it has nothing to do with him. Not writing this scene indicates the author needs the characters alive for a sequel.