We cannot conceive that anarchists establish points to follow systemically as fixed dogmas. Because, even if a uniformity of views on the general lines of tactics to follow is assumed, these tactics are carried out in a hundred different forms of applications, with a thousand varying particulars.
—  Against Organization
3

Motion Silhouette

Japanese childrens book that features pop-up shapes to cast shadows for the reader to bring motion to its story - video embedded below:

(Google Translation:)

This book is his second picture book that changes its shape depending on the environment.

I will begin to talk about the story and illustrations shadow falls on top of the page overlap. In this work, you can enjoy the animation of shadow phantasmagoric by you move the light. Trees and become bigger and bigger, which aims to train a distant star. Story that changes depending on the page falling shadows, shadows move around the top of the page.

Please enjoy the silhouette meaning and shape change in various ways.

You can find out more at the motion-silhouette Tumblr page here

We live in a world increasingly dominated by science. And that’s fine. I became a science writer because I think science is the most exciting, dynamic, consequential part of human culture, and I wanted to be a part of that. Also, I have two college-age kids, and I’d be thrilled if they pursued careers in science, engineering or medicine. I certainly want them to learn as much science and math as they can, because those skills can help you get a great job.

But it is precisely because science is so powerful that we need the humanities now more than ever. In your science, mathematics and engineering classes, you’re given facts, answers, knowledge, truth. Your professors say, “This is how things are.” They give you certainty. The humanities, at least the way I teach them, give you uncertainty, doubt and skepticism.

The humanities are subversive. They undermine the claims of all authorities, whether political, religious or scientific. This skepticism is especially important when it comes to claims about humanity, about what we are, where we came from, and even what we can be and should be. Science has replaced religion as our main source of answers to these questions. Science has told us a lot about ourselves, and we’re learning more every day.

But the humanities remind us that we have an enormous capacity for deluding ourselves. They also tell us that every single human is unique, different than every other human, and each of us keeps changing in unpredictable ways. The societies we live in also keep changing–in part because of science and technology! So in certain important ways, humans resist the kind of explanations that science gives us.

—  Science writer John Horgan responds to the major recent report on the value of the humanities.
Our Deepest Condolences

One of the very first patients I had admitted was a 50-some year old father of three with a newly diagnosed colon cancer. His case read just like my father’s. Sudden changes in stool caliber. More bloating and fatigue. His wife started noticing that he looked thinner. 

By the time I had approached him in the hustle and bustle of the emergency department, the news had already been broken by the emergency physician. “You have colon cancer,” he remarked on the bluntness of that interaction. It had left him in such shock that he had little to say for most of the day. I took my time to be thorough, answering questions, gathering the history, doing the physical - his moderately ascitic belly and an enlarged liver already hinted at something more sinister. Having already been subjected to one rectal exam, he asked if I needed to double check again. I politely declined to which he breathed a great relief. 

I excused myself to review his CT scan, to get a better understanding of what was driving everything. There, on the black and white screen I saw a liver so large it seemed there would be no space for anything else in that belly. Pocked full of cysts and irregular tissue, it screamed only one conclusion: gross metastasis. 

"A few more tests," I reassured him and then he would go home, to follow up with the oncologist for further management options. I explained that the cancer had spread and that the options will be limited. He digested the news silently, his eyes flickered across the floor as he concentrated. When his wife arrived, I made sure to break the news gently. She wept regardless.

By the time I had sent him home, his belly was flatter once again, having been drained of all of the malignant fluid. The oncologist was to follow up with him within a week’s time. The prognosis was guarded but we agreed that he will be fine for at least the week.

Or so we thought.

It was a surprise to me then that not one week later, I saw him again on call in the emergency department, this time looking worse. He was confused, agitated, and grim - his skin had turned yellow. I quickly texted my attending: “Encephalopathy. Icterus.” The response was immediate: “Shit.”

Because most of the patient’s liver had been replaced by metastatic tissue, his body could no longer bear the burden. The liver had started to fail and with that, his kidneys were beginning to shut down. He was quickly transferred to the ward. 

We rediscussed code status with the family with the end drawing near and it was decided to change his care to palliative. We kept him comfortable until he died a few days later.  

Precipitous multi-organ failure is uncommon to see in someone who is still very high functioning. We never would have expected him to decline so rapidly. It was a surprise to everyone that he could be here one week and gone the next. Given his disease, there would not have been much more we could do medically.

But there are always things we could have improved on. From delivering the diagnosis with care, to advocating for a private room in his final days, to addressing the psychosocial needs of the family. These are areas that we can strive to do better. At the end of the day, this patient was not his colon cancer, he was a person. With a wife and three children. A friend to many. 

These were the pieces, in the torrent of changes that ensued on his second admission, that were lost.

"The patient died surrounded by his loved ones. We are grateful to have been involved in his care and offer our deepest condolences to his family and friends…End dictation."

This is the same narrative we always hear from the authorities. First, we must submit to their control; then they will address our concerns. All the problems we face, they insist, are caused by our refusal to cooperate. This argument sounds most persuasive when it is dressed up in the rhetoric of democracy: those are “our” laws we should shut up and obey—“our” cops who are shooting and gassing us—“our” politicians and leaders begging us to return to business as usual. But to return to business as usual is to step daintily over the bodies of countless Michael Browns, consigning them to the cemetery and oblivion.
—  What They Mean when They Say Peace
Watch on greattalks.net

Kurt Vonnegut, The Shapes of Stories (excerpt)

The late author Kurt Vonnegut shares the universal shapes of narratives in a short excerpt from a longer talk about creative writing.

Embrace

The echoes of my steps resonated within the expanse of the hospital garage. As I made my way to the end of the aisle to my stall, a couple caught my eye.

A tall man, his hair only beginning to turn grey, faced a woman of similar age, dressed in a beautiful white summer dress. Next to them a car, its trunk agape, half packed with a box of personal belongings and a white plastic bag full of clothes sat waiting. Still, they stood, pausing, ruminating.

They stared longingly into each other’s eyes, a deep seeded pain overwhelming them as tears trickled down their delicate features. A warm embrace as they held each other tightly and wept.

I wondered what terrible tragedy had befell them. Did a loved one’s health take a turn for the worst? Did a loved one just pass away? Did their mother, father, daughter, or son, just perish from this earth? I could not help but wonder.

But it was not my place to ask.

I watched helplessly as they buried their heads in each other’s shoulders and comforted one other.

I continued walking.

UHG I LOVE LADIES SO MUCH. ladies ladies ladies. it’s not even that ladies are better then men and i don’t ever want to hear about men, it’s just that growing up we’re so taught to only pay attention to male stories and we’re constantly bombarded with that, and getting older and being able to understand that means now being able to consciously consume media about women of all types and stop subscribing to only the male narrative is sooooo delicious. IT’S DELICIOUS. i love finally being able to follow stories that mean so much more to me. men seriously seriously seriously take this for granted and have no idea how debilitating it is for women to never have had hero narratives to identify with.

ladies

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