a message to humanity at large


Like they’ve seen species with various sets of teeth, ranging from a few large dull ones to hundreds of sharp and pointed canines, and they brush ours off as typical teeth. Then they see a small human hatchling bite into a fruit and one of their front teeth are missing. Imagine the horror on their faces as they watch a small child be congratulated and have their tooth put in a small container. Later, a Commander messages the Intergalactic Counsel with alarming news; ‘Human young not only lose their teeth and grow them back, but hide them in their resting places so small winged creatures may take them in exchange for currency.’

Humans will packbond with anything.... whether it exists or not

So I introduced one of my friends to Stabby the Space Roomba at 21:28, and at 21:37 he took me to task for being insufficiently enthusiastic about Stabby, and at  21:59 messaged me to say “I love Stabby”

And, like, it’s one thing to get attached to an actual cleaning droid.  It’s even weirder to get attached to the concept of a cleaning droid.  But it’s not unusual.  I mean, Tumblr is built – in large part – around large groups of people who have become emotionally attached to imaginary beings. We join together with other people who have packbonded to the same imaginary things, and we call it fandom, and we create other, related, imaginary things for others to get attached to

So I like to think about what would happen if an alien sees, first hand, what a human filled with survival instincts and rage looks like. Mostly I just wanted to write this lol

Th'wed never thought the peaceful cargo ship would have crashed, attacked by smugglers for the rare jewels they had been assigned to watch over once it exchanged hands between them and the Humans. A gift of peace. He remembers sneering when he saw the group in ornamental armor and wondering why such a brutish race had survived so long without destroying itself. He cringed when one of them, a blonde female in the robes of a scribe, bared her teeth. All of them are savages.

When the ship went down on a hostile moon orbiting the gas giant he didn’t expect to survive. But he did, all because the humans covered him and the unshielded female. Waking up covered in the viscera of the crew and surrounded by the twisted perversion of the ship he immediately turned and vomited, uncaring for the tube like filaments on his head being coated in the green slime, the scales on them and his face turning a sickly yellow of fear and pain. The cover did not save him completely from harm, leg snapped all three toes curled in pain like a fist.

That’s when he heard it. The mournful wail that sounded more like a vengeful scream. The scribe was not worse for wear but her companions has no such luck, ornamental armor unable to save them from being pierced by the gutted ship. She kneeled beside another warrior, male perhaps, with a neck twisted in a strange way. She sniffed and to his amazement began gathering the group and the crew members, laying them side by side and crossing their arms, closing the eyes of the ones that still had faces. It was a long process and more than once she had to toss away a limb. He leaned over to vomit again.

When he leaned straight again the unnerving creature was staring at him, eyes wide and glossy. She bared her teeth again and made a strange barking sound that he tried to lean away from.

“Of all the fucking people to survive it’s the chick without a gun and the racist torrin.”

She pointed to the near by body of the male she wept over, his dark skin charred black from the flames.

“His name was Christofer and if he didn’t order them to protect you, you’d be dead. Thank him, if you think you can handle thanking a ‘brutish savage’.

The scales tinged pink with embarrassment. So she had heard him complaining to the captain. He never expected her to help him up, short stature surprisingly sturdy as she helped him limp away into the foliage. He was always amazed that such tiny creatures command such fear. She was patient with the shell shocked male, saving her own tears for when they had found water. She used her outer robe to set his leg and left him to go back and scavenger for supplies. Th'wed doesn’t worry much, taking the moment to mourn as quietly as possible, scales turning a dreary grey. Help will come soon. It has to.

Help did not come. In the passing of the gas giant and the sun, night and day both equal to three earthling days according to his guid, Morgan, she healed the hollow bones of his leg best to her ability but he suspects he will limp for the rest of his life. Her eyes grew colder everyday although she smiles more. He remembers almost fondly the hysterical laughter she had when she explained that her species barred their teeth in joy and politeness. She hunted for them while he used his own knowledge of those sector to find edible plants and fish. Their dynamic grew into a fondness, perhaps even friendship, the smaller alien often touching him. Petting his "hair” or examining his pink hued skin or his clawless limbs. She was fascinated with his eyes, large and round and completely black. Equated him to something she calls an owl.

He often looks back at the day he asked her how she knows to survive and hunt, the smile he is now able to differentiate from becoming cold and predatory.

“I grew up on a ship colony with my brother. When we landed for supplies we had to hunt for our food, too poor to use what credits we had for nutrient blocks. They caught us one day, chopped off my brothers hand when he took the wrap. When I joined the military to provide for them they gave me survival training. Never know when a ship crashes and you have to make it until a ship comes for you.”

His respect grew as he sat in the small lodging they built together. From the craftsmanship of the things she lovingly carved he suspected she wanted to be something else and not a military lackey. The short alien from then on began using familiar nick names and hugging often. Pack instincts. He would have sneered months ago at the notion. She was a peaceful woman who laughed more often than she cried and went against every stereotype he knew. It lulled him in security with her, forgetting the predator she was.

An animal, one he never saw before but was monstrous in size and shape attached him while he gathered one day, snapping his makeshift cane and almost crushing his ribs in one swipe of its spotted paw. It’s long snout split the wrong way, vertical mouth filled with slavering teeth. Knowing he was going to die he lied limp on the forest floor and awaited the golden afterlife. He heard a great roar from behind him and felt the sweeping air of a spear over his body.

The creature backed off while his human crouched over his body, eyes wild, pupils so blown they almost dominate her eyes. Her chest heaves and fists tighten. Looking at her face he felt both of his hearts almost stop in pure fear. He wonders how he could have ever mistaken her smiling for a show of aggression. He can clearly see the artificially sharpened teeth, something he dutifully ignored before, glistening in the reflective shine of the bright red gas giant hanging in the sky.

Opening her jaw in a way he almost couldn’t comprehend he let out a strangled roar and charged the thing. With every swipe it bleed. With every indigent scream it made at her she answered in kind only angrier. It was insistent, probably not used to its food fighting back, and made as to clamp its jaws around her. Screaming for her to run did nothing. She stood there face twisted in rage as she grabbed the closing jaws and. Tore. Them. Off.

She separated the jaws until a wet cracking sound echoed but didn’t stop until she tore it completely free, fingers dripping in blood. Green for the creature and red from her own ripped palms. She tossed back her head and screamed to the sky, red planet outlining her body like a bloody halo. She looked like a god of war her people so love to worship. Rescue came weeks later from a human ship honing onto the beacon from the crash. He was roomed in the med bay while she was escorted away on the large military colony and he didn’t see her for days while he messaged his queen. When she came back she was groomed and wearing the royal blue of a generals uniform, chest glittering with the metals of valor. She grinned and stood at attention.

“We have not been formally introduced. I am general Morgan Regina of sector Terra. I was sent to ensure the first official contact with a new species went well.”

He took the offered hand which he now knows is filled with nanotechnology, turning her bones to metal and her muscles into inexhaustible strength. Even turning off her pain receptors so she will not be hindered with her own pain. Swallowing thickly he wills his face into the unfamiliar stretch of a smile and her eyes glitter at the effort. He fears her. Respects her. And will probably die fighting his people for the alliance her people offer. He is indebted, it seems, to a savage brute.

thexenobiologist  asked:

Your recent post about touch tanks reminded me of something I've always wondered: why do the sharks and rays in them actively seek out contact? They don't just seem to coincidentally bump into hands or only go after food, so what makes them want to get touched?

For years, I’ve thought, if I had a research grant, this would be what I would study. The behavior of sharks and rays in touchpools. 

Where I was proctoring them, we were taught we could never say that the sharks and rays ‘liked’ the interaction. All the species in the tank were eusocial species by nature - cownose rays live in large schools, and the smaller reef sharks are often found in fairly high concentrations in the wild and go as far as to sleep in piles in the mangrove roots. So, the messaging we were taught was that the rays and sharks didn’t find soft contact with human hands inherently negative because they were used to casual social contact from conspecifics (in contrast to like, solitary pelagic sharks who only get touched by food, mates, or things trying to eat them). As far as messaging went, I liked that way of doing it, because it wasn’t anthropomorphic and it allowed us to do some education about the natural behaviors of our animals while we explained. 

Except for that part where, as a behaviorist who ended up spending a lot of time at that touch tank (it was the only one I could work for a period of time when I had an injury I couldn’t get wet) that really obviously wasn’t the whole story. I started noticing the same animals coming to the front repeatedly, and slowing down and rising up under certain hands (generally still, flat, calm, mid-way down the water) while they’d dive deeper under others (generally children’s hands, ones moving a lot, or those that were hovering just out of the water). I watched rays rostrum-bump hands that they’d slowed down under but that hadn’t reached down to pet them, and I watched other rays specifically circle back to a couple of hands multiple times - sometimes to the point of circling back as soon as they were out of reach. There was obviously something going on in terms of preferences and decision making with the fish and the hands they chose to interact with, but no amount of casual observation and anecdotes does a scientifically valid hypothesis make. 

Point is, I don’t think we know. I personally believe that in really well designed tanks like the one I worked, where they had a huge amount of non-touch area and depth and current and natural habitat to spend time in, that there was definitely some preference for interaction with hands that behaved a certain type of way. I can’t tell you why and I’ll probably never have the money/time to take over an entire touch tank and quantify that hypothesis, though. 

Punk (Chap. 6)

Originally posted by stuckwithbuck

Summary: You’re head over heels for your best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.

Word count: 1842

Warnings: Same as always

A/N: Thank you for all of the feedback!  It honestly makes me so insanely happy and I love hearing your theories, outrages, and feelings! <3

He looked up.  Had he heard you gasp his name?  Of course.  Fucking supersoldier…  Bucky’s eyes found yours across the club.  Time seemed to slow down in that moment.  What the fuck is are you doing here?!


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There’s something pure and infinite in you, that wants to come out of you, and can come out of no other person on the planet. That’s what you’ve got to share, and that’s as real and important as the fact that you’re alive. We were able, at a really young age, to somehow protect each other so we could feel that. The world at large, careerism, money, magazines, your parents, the people at the rock club in your town, other kids, nothing is going to give you that message, necessarily. In fact, most things are going to lead you away from it, sadly, because humanity is really confused at the moment. But you wouldn’t exist if the universe didn’t need you. And any time I encounter something beautiful that came out of a human somewhere, that’s them, that’s their own soul. That’s just pure, whatever its physicality is, if the person can play piano, if they can’t play piano, if they’re tone deaf, whatever it is, if it’s pure, it hits you like a sledgehammer. It fills up your own soul, it makes you want to cry, it makes you glad you’re alive, it lets you come out of you. And that’s what we need: we desperately need you.
—  Julian Koster

anonymous asked:

I get that Laci's methods are unhelpful+ even counter-productive, but like Ash said her intention to bridge the gap between these communities is good(?) Are there any examples of other methods to do this? Sry if I'm missing something obvious

At this point, engaging with most (not all) mainstream anti-fem channels is self-preservation in my opinion. Doing livestreams with anti-feminists where both parties agree to be polite and respectful is helpful in the sense that their audience is exposed to a different opinion in a setting that isn’t “FEMINIST GETS REKT”. Does it change most people’s core beliefs? Not really. But it does humanize the feminist engaging with them which essentially gives you anti-fem “street cred.”

There’s this idea within those communities that the opposing side is only worth respecting and not hurling abuse at if they engage with the creators who have harassed them in the first place. I did this last year on B3aring’s channel after he had made 3-4 videos insulting me and gaslighting me and his 300k fans swarmed my channel with hate.

After the livestream I got a ton of his fans saying “I disagree still but I actually respect you as a person now.” Like why was me doing an hour long public livestream necessary to be treated like a human being? On top of this, it didn’t stop any of my friends or fellow feminist creators from getting harassed by these channels. They might have laid off me for a bit, but it didn’t help the overall problem. All it did was create a dichotomy of “dumb feminists who refuse to leave their echo chambers” and “sort of ok feminists who are chill bc they engage our toxic ideology.” It’s ultimately self serving I’ve found.

Something I’ve been REALLY careful to do on my channel is not promote creators who have engaged in targeted harassment or hate campaigns against other creators. I won’t mention channels by name and I refused to do a livestream on my channel with these channels. Even though my platform is comparatively smaller, I’m not gonna use it to bring them traffic. Laci is taking the exact opposite approach…she has 1.5 million subscribers and a larger platform than most anti-fem channels and she’s using that to uplift them and give them views.

That’s my ultimate problem with this. Laci doesn’t really go out of her way to uplift smaller marginalized creators on her channel. Sure she’ll have on huge channels like Ingrid Nilsen or DaveyWavey to get a “different perspective” but literally only when it’s beneficial to her. She has a huge voice and could easily uplift smaller creators like Riley or Kat, but instead she’s using it to help out “anti-sjws” who view her as a valuable resource for growing their audiences.

I’m all for engaging with oppressive ideologies and toxic ideas and breaking down why they’re misguided. That’s super important work that I can 100% get behind. But she’s engaging with channels promoting these ideas–channels that have large audiences to spread their messages and regularly attack social justice advocates. And by engaging with PEOPLE rather than IDEAS, she’s giving a platform to them. She’s humanizing oppressive ideologies and doing it in front of a young audience.

  • NASA: We've discovered seven new exoplanets!
  • People: Yawn. Add 'em to the pile.
  • NASA: They're all Earthlike! They might have liquid water and life!
  • People: But they're probably all spread out all over.
  • NASA: Nope! Seven Earthlike planets, all orbiting the same star.
  • People: Okay, sure, but that star's probably halfway across the universe.
  • NASA: Only 40 light years! We could send and receive communications in a human lifetime!
  • People: Wow, that is kind of cool. Let's start communicating! Let's send a probe! Hell, I'll volunteer to get on the generation ship if it means leaving this nightmare hellscape.
  • NASA: We'll start figuring out the message.
  • People: This almost sounds too good to be true! By the way, what star did you say they orbit?
  • NASA: Trappist-1.
  • People: Trappist-1.
  • NASA: That's right.
  • People: The improbably large set of Earthlike planets orbiting a single star at such a distance that they might all be capable of harboring life, close enough to Earth that we could maybe send messages or visit, orbits a star named "Trappist-1."
  • NASA: That's right! I'm gonna start beaming out the message.
  • People: What could possibly go wrong?

It really boggles me that people call vegans crazy and radical because of how enthusiastic we get.

Like, we have the answer in our hands to so many problems that humanity faces;
We can fix climate change, world hunger, population health, systematic animal cruelty, a large proportion of corruption in both the west and the east, antibiotic resistance, etc.

And we can’t do it purely because the rest of the population doesn’t *want* to.
It’s kind of like trying to coax a dog away from a cliff top when there are treats on the edge, there is no true way to communicate the message because nobody wants to hear it, no matter how desperately dangerous the situation is for everyone involved.

Like if you destroy this planet, you’re taking us with you, we’re most definitely not the ones forcing our choices on you, we’re just trying not to bear the brunt of yours.

My message box is open for anyone wanting to transition and needing help doing so, or if anyone just wants to know about what good they can do by switching, just give me a shout! ✌️🌱

It was far too early in the morning for a human to be awake.
The timing made you groan silently into the pillow as your body stirred around in the sheets; The soft glow from the television forced your eyes to adjust in the darkness–
Ouch, it stung a bit.

There was a large
“ Are you still watching? ”
message written across the screen. Watching what?
Oh, yeah– You and Seven had been binge watching some house hunting program for awhile before the both of you had eventually drifted off to sleep. Huh, You didn’t even remember falling asleep. Seven must have stayed up a bit later for the TV to still be on.

Speaking of which, The apparent snoring quickly caught your attention. With your chin resting in the palm of your hand, You admired Saeyoung contently. He was lost in dream land, all sprawled out on the mattress like that. Seeing him like this filled you with gratitude at his persistence to get a new, bigger bed when you had moved in. He sure wasn’t kidding when he said he was a bed hog– Sheesh.
It made you smile as you held back a giggle, rubbing your eyes with a yawn as you slowly felt yourself begin to wake more.

His feet dangled off the bed dangerously, it reminded you of the time he hid for hours, just waiting for you to come to bed; Pretending to be the boogie man and tightly grabbing your legs right as you were about to drift off to sleep.
“ Boo! ”
He boomed as he playfully bit at your ankles, a squeak had left your mouth as you kicked and whined. You had nearly given him a black eye that night, His antics will be the death of him; You assure yourself.

With a long stretch and a lot of mental preparation, You finally manage to pull yourself out of bed. It was fairly warm in the bedroom, so you weren’t really surprised at the fact that you and him were stripped down to your underwear. It didn’t bother you, But with Saeran hanging around; Most likely it wouldn’t be very proper to sport such a bold fashion statement so early in the morning. He’d be scarred for quite awhile if he woke up to a sight such as that.

Soft mumbling quickly distracts you from your thoughts, you place your hands over your chest as you admire the sight below you. Seven, sleepily blabbering to himself as he stirs around in the bed.
“ –anks longcat.. ”
The gibberish made you snicker, Was he dreaming about long-cat? What a cutie. He always reminded you of a puppy dog with the way you cooed and awed over half the things he did. The honeymoon stage was such a dream, you were enjoying every second of it. A warm smile lingers on your face as your fingers subconsciously reach out to brush a strand of bright red hair from his forehead. The urge to boop his nose was just too strong, you softly gave that a soft poke before deciding you should leave your sleeping beauty to rest for a little while longer. Although true loves kiss would be nice to wake up to, you decided against it.

Clothes were scattered across the floor, Oh gosh– This was a mess. The weekend usually left half the house looking like this, You’d have to make a mental note to tidy things up later today.

Ah, Laundry.. Yikes. Saeran’s pocket knife got thrown into the wash a few weeks ago and no one had ever managed to fix it, the blade stuck too deep into the side of the machine; so clean clothes were scarce now days. You’d never seen two grown men fight over a pair of boxer shorts covered with tiny drawings of cacti before. What a war zone you lived in.
The only thing that stood out was a yellow and black hoodie hanging up on the mini traffic cone coat rack Seven had up on his wall. You reached out and grabbed it, it felt pretty soft and still had a slight laundry smell to it– it’ll have to work, You decided.

You tugged the material over your head, it slipped on like a charm seeing the weight and height difference you and Seven had. It looked like a short, off the shoulder dress on you. it went down half your thighs and exposed a large portion of your shoulder.
Cute. You thought to yourself as you posed a few times for the mirror– You were enjoying this a little more than you’d like to admit. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but the sizing difference made you resemble a doll. It made you curious to see how the rest of his clothes looked on you. Not that you’d try it obviously! Ha.. Well, maybe. For science– of course!

What about his glasses? You giggled slightly as you snuck them off of the night stand, Pushing them up onto your face. They slid down the bridge of your nose too much and blurred your vision; But you still liked the whole oversized look. Wow, Who knew loitering in your boyfriends clothes would be such a confidence boost.

“ Practicing your cosplay skills, Yeah?
A sudden voice frightened you to no end, Making you jump and turn, clenching your fists in the sleeves. The glasses rode down the bridge of your nose making you look somewhat librarian. Seven was propped up over some pillows in the bed, Looking horribly tired yet humored at the same time. His hands were behind his head in a rather relaxed fashion.
Your face burnt up with embarrassment, How long has he been watching you?

“ Ya'know– ” He stirred around, his voice sounding lower and less refined– It made your insides twirl, that morning voice never failed to make you giddy.

“ If you wanted to crossdress you could have told me. Coulda done it together! Couple gender-bend. Hell yeah. ”
He chuckled out loud, looking you up and down a little too slowly. His eyes met yours, they were soft with a slight flicker of mischief behind them. Once you realized he wasn’t frustrated with you was when you laughed along side him,
Pulling on the hem of the sweater to tug it down lower under his gaze.

“ Id love for you to try and fit your butt into my skinny jeans. ”

You stick your tongue out playfully, to which he mirrors.

“ Just dont pop the buttons off– Okay? ”

He pretended to be offended as he gasped loudly before quickly erupting into laughter at the thought, loudly protesting against you calling his butt big.

“ This butt is 80 percent honey buddha and 20 percent squats from picking up lost chips that fall to the ground okay? ”

He suddenly got very serious, staring off into the distance, forcing his voice to sound gruff and deep.

“ Ive lost many-a-chip to a cold unforgiving floor. Five seconds just isnt enough for them, They deserve so much more… ”
He was sitting up in bed now, his eyes so glazed over you actually believed he was seriously about to burst into tears any second now.

“ Woah, Didn’t mean to bring on the flashbacks! ”
You hold your hands up in innocence, He pretended to use the edge of the sheets as a handkerchief; wiping away his invisible tears with a gruff sniffle.

” We’ll have an prayer session later today for all those forgotten chips that got lost too soon.
They’re with the big potatoes now, Love.
You played along, clutching a hand to your heart in honor of all that sweetly salty goodness– Wasted. Such a shame. You both began to giggle after a few moments of silence at how silly this was. It was always a warm environment with Seven. He could even be so upset yet still have that warm comforting appeal to him, One of the many things you’d fallen in love with.

“ So lil’ S, Care to hop on the train to snoozeville? ”

He yawned mid sentence– Stretching out as far as his arms could as he snuggled back into bed. He looked rather small in that bed all by himself, you admitted.

Choo choo. Hehe, I’ll pay for the tickets– Come on. Trains leavin’ soon babe. ”
He snuggled his face into the sheets as he rolled onto his side– Looking over at you with big puppy dog eyes and extended arms.

“ Lil S? ”
You questioned with a smile and raised brow, making your way over to the mattress to join him. It was so early, no one would mind if you two got some more extra hours in. Maybe Saeran, He’d have to make his own breakfast.

“ Yup. You’re the mini me. Lil Seven, Although I have multiple of those.. ”
You practically jumped into the bed, he grabbed the glasses off your face and reached behind him, placing them on his nightstand with a slight clink.

” Shall we number you? ”
You two were face to face; His eyes had big purple bags under them, a pang of guilt rang through your stomach at the fact of waking him. He probably stayed up pretty late last night. You thought about his words for a moment, letting them sink it.

“ Hm. I wanna be.. Lil’ S, number 69. ”
You waggled your eyebrows in a teasing fashion, He stuck out his tongue playfully at the gesture.

“ Okay, You’ll be the nasty one. ”
The two of you laughed softly, You took this chance to cuddle into his chest and just rolled with it. He didn’t mind though, Wrapping you up in his arms and pulling you even closer to his body.

“ My little S… ” He murmured softly into your hair, planting tiny kisses in random spots as he grazed his fingers up and down your back underneath the hoodie; causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. You both ended up falling asleep together like this, you cuddled into him and his face buried into your hair. Surrounded by Seven, as if he was a blanket.
It was the best way to start off a morning.

HOO this is the first time ive written like this in a super long time holy shit hopefully im not too rusty but i just love this idea?? early morning cuddles?? mc having some little fashion show with sevens things?? snuggling back into sleep? sign me up boyos

Make A Wish (4/4)

Stuck in the Enchanted Forest after her wish was granted, Emma seeks out Killian. She doesn’t expect what she finds. Canon divergence from 6x10, including spoilers for 6x11 in this chapter.

Endless thanks to @caprelloidea for reading over this for me and just being an amazing fic cheerleader in general. Also tagging @laschatzi because she asked :).

Rating: T for this chapter, M overall

Word count: 5141

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

AO3 | FF.net

Killian takes her to the beanstalk on horseback. Emma is grateful for the few hours it takes them, an excuse to shamelessly wrap herself around him as she sits in the back of the saddle. Her hands start off holding his hips before eventually clasping themselves across his front, her cheek resting between his shoulder blades.

They won’t have much longer if their mission is successful, the threat of the Evil Queen loose in Storybrooke more than enough to hurry them along. But when her hand reaches up and closes over his where he holds the reins she closes her eyes, squeezing him tight against her. It’s all they have left - all he has left - and she won’t spend a single moment without her hands on his skin if she can help it. They don’t talk, don’t need to, and Emma is grateful that she can’t see Killian’s face as they ride, knowing she couldn’t handle it.

It looks much the same as it did before, towering up into the sky and forcing them to lean back to take all of it in. “Do you think this thing is still enchanted by the giant?” she asks, squinting her eyes against the sun. “I don’t have any memories of his story being different in this version of things.”

“Nor do I,” he confirms, still looking up. “I suppose there’s only one way to find out.” Before she can protest, he approaches the beanstalk and places a tentative hand against it.

The force of its magic throws him a good ten feet before he lands on his back.

She’s at his side in an instant. “Well,” he gets out when his breath returns to him, “that answers that question.”

Emma laughs, relieved that he’s only injured his pride. “You are such a dumbass, you know that?”

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Important message from Mermaid Kelly: Ariel is swimming by to encourage you to help protect her home. Even though she collects human “treasures”, other sea creatures and marine life become injured or even die because of human trash, including thousands of sea turtles, whales, and over one million seabirds each year. All of this trash can harm & entangle fish, sharks, and damages coral reefs. In the Pacific Ocean there is even a huge area called the “Great Pacific Garbage Patch.” This is a large area filled with debris, approximately the size of Texas. The debris extend down 20 feet & contains 3.5 million tons of garbage. It is estimated to double size in the next 5 years. A marine biologist & ocean activist, Sylvia A. Earle once stated “If the ocean dies, we die.” Without the ocean, we can’t survive. Around 50% of the oxygen we breath comes from phytoplankton in the ocean. Many Ocean Activists have already taken action to preserve these creatures and our home, now it’s your turn! You can start taking the steps to helping all of the life in the ocean by using fewer plastic products, recycling, doing local beach/ river clean ups, support local organizations working to protect the ocean, influence change in your local community, but most importantly, educate yourself on the ocean & how to protect it.
This video is also up on my Mermaid Kelly YouTube channel as well! Feel free to share the message and video~
YouTube link: https://youtu.be/PY5tR8E8sZk

the past tense of hunger is eaten. re: john hunger voremaster 9000, re: ennui, re: nihilism, re: taz as a longrunning fuck you to despair.

so this is technically liner notes for “and there will be no more sorrows in the worlds to come” but its really an essay about john hunger and nihilism and the end of all things and the desire to stop existing and the subsequent desire to extinguish existence and reality itself, and also about taz’s philosophical underpinnings and how taz is, in some interpretations, kind of a metaphor for human triumph over nihilism. wow! thats a lot! im perfectly qualified to talk about none of this!

also disclaimer: im actually really bad at coherently writing things down analytically (this is incredibly ironic considering my major + previous jobs) but bear with me, i promise there might be a payoff.

To begin with some backstory, a couple days ago, i wrote a bizarro fic at a breakneck pace about what happened from john hungryboy’s perspective. I wanted to characterize/explore the mindset someone has if they want to destroy existence, and how that translates to being able to convince everyone else that existence should just stop, everything should stop, everything is terrible. tldr i wanted to figure out the hunger, and how john could convince it into being, and what would happen to john because of his actions — and how his views change toward the end of TAZ, as seen in episode 68.

Even though i finished the fic pretty quickly, im not sure how much closer i am to articulating the idea of the Hunger – but at the same time, I think I understand it and…in context of the taz overarching narrative, i’d argue that griffin picked the perfect villain for his story.


What john realized before he became the hunger is that in the context of existence, all actions are meaningless, and by extension, all emotions are meaningless and basically ephemera.

In the face of infinity any happiness is fleeting, any love is fleeting, everything you do is pointless because its a single blade of grass in a field. every good moment is countered with a thousand bad ones, and its like, you know how like, in calculus, how derivatives and integrals work? all the slices of the curve or whatever. yeah. its like that. its been 2 years since i did calc but basically, by analogy, time is a logarithmic curve with no end and when you take the derivative from n to m (shit it might have been integral, i forget) that’s the portion of your life that is good, but theres still the rest of the curve that continues into infinity. the limit does not exist. i think thats a pretty apt analogy.

shit why am i talking about math, ok we’re going back on topic. the hunger. johnathan voreboy’s whole shtick.

I asked for people to please identify the Emotion in my fic regarding what the hell the hunger is about, like, conceptually, and 17827 left a comment saying its like “somewhere in the ballpark of depression, or if nihilism was an emotion? or like both apathy and depression at the same time.” and i thought that was actually a really intelligent comment, because like…yeah. that’s pretty much right.

The hunger is nihilism taken to one of its logical conclusions. ie: if everything is meaningless, then breaking the world is the only meaningful thing.

so, pivot: let’s talk about nihilism! Let’s be moderately precise about this. To quote wikipedia, font of all knowledge, nihilism is:

Existential nihilism is the belief that life has no intrinsic meaning or value. With respect to the universe, existential nihilism posits that a single human or even the entire human species is insignificant, without purpose and unlikely to change in the totality of existence. The meaninglessness of life is largely explored in the philosophical school of existentialism….a moral nihilist believes that all moral claims are void of any truth value.

To quote the Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy: “A true nihilist would believe in nothing, have no loyalties, and no purpose other than, perhaps, an impulse to destroy.

So, you know. this sure sounds a lot like John, and the hunger.

(And you have to wonder what society in john’s world is going through, that they accepted his message so readily.)

There are analogues to what John’s world is going through in real life. nihilism, is, after all, a human concept - and various groups/art movements/cultural shifts deal with the idea that “hey maybe it doesnt matter? maybe nothing matters” - dadaism, ?etc. These analogues are differing amounts of positive/negative, but they do speak to the way that society reacts to the suggestion that life is ultimately meaningless and all actions are the same action. (I think that the argument could be made that we’re sort of in a post-nihilism postmodern state right now, considering the current scope of the world and attitudes toward the future, and in that sense, taz is very timely)  

Having characterized the hunger as resigned to the idea that if everything is forever, then nothing is able to matter, then the narrative arc of the starblaster crew becomes really interesting. Because it is in and of itself a massive FUCK YOU in the philosophical basis for the Hunger’s quest.

Which brings us to…


The Starblaster crew spends a hundred years in a Sisyphean cycle of death and rebirth and fighting an enemy that seems completely unstoppable. The Starblaster crew is trapped in an everlasting existence with no promise of it being finished. The Starblaster crew leaves planets behind to die and knows that most actions they take will almost certainly not help them on the next planet, that it doesnt matter what happens to their bodies, that they will continue.

Thats johnny vore’s whole point - that is THE ABSOLUTE DEFINITION of a life neverending and death neverending and everything continues for fucking ever and that infinity is terrible.

nothing means anything and everything lasts forever.

But. As we hear in the podcast, the attitude that john assumes regarding eternity does not apply when put into practical considerations. Rather, in the face of eternity, anything is possible. In the face of endless renewal, you can be anyone. In some ways, the endless cycle of life and death is seen as an opportunity for love.

To quote juice/taako, when he’s talking to barry: ‘You know, we’ve lost a lot, uh, and there’s a lot more that we might lose, but the one thing we do have is the thing that people in love rarely ever have enough of and it’s time.“

IE: the endlessness of existence as an opportunity, rather than a curse.

Or, if nothing matters and nihilism and entropy are the truth of the universe, then maybe…maybe that means everything matters.

There’s a complete rejection of the idea that even if an experience is short-lived or partial, that it is meaningless. Think about Lup declaring that they can’t sacrifice a whole world, because that would change who they are, and they can’t be those people. Each action/emotion that the crew has defines them, even if it ultimately does not affect the larger paradigm.

So that’s the opposing attitude to the one that Johnboy suggests.

And, quoting the IEP again, "Nietzsche himself, a radical skeptic preoccupied with language, knowledge, and truth, anticipated many of the themes of postmodernity. It’s helpful to note, then, that he believed we could–at a terrible price–eventually work through nihilism. If we survived the process of destroying all interpretations of the world, we could then perhaps discover the correct course for humankind.”

gee, what does that sound like?

hint: it sounds like oh i dont know, the exact fuckin narrative of the stolen century and also taz as a whole.


On a more personal note, it was weird for me to write the fic/this post because personally i align more with john voremaster 9000’s point of view - im of the opinion that life is terrible and filled with ennui and everything is just another thing that happens and it is awful, sometimes, to think about all the years that will come next and also whatever happens after death and oh god, is this it? is this just the rest of forever? am i like this forever? is everything like this forever? hey maybe can i just erase myself from reality? i want to just fuckin Be Gone? like life is conceptually fucked up, you know? like fuck me fuck everything lets just BLOW IT ALL UP.

(And it was actually really upsetting to write about johnhungerboy and realize how easily John’s point of view came to me, and i think i need to re-evaluate a couple of things in my life, haha.)

but i think the fact that i was able to get inside john’s head is actually also really fascinating in and of itself - because that implies that john’s pov is immature.

To put it in context, im 21 and probably mildly depressed and dealing with the fact that maybe the rest of my life isn’t going to be as rigidly plotted out as my previous 21 years. Of course everything seems like forever and terrible. but john was like, fifty. john is an adult, with a bunch of life experience, he’s had the opportunities to see why fleeting happiness matters. john’s argument shouldn’t be possible to characterize so easily. and I think thats further proof that john is wrong — but that’s another essay entirely.

the point being, this concept of john’s attitude as immature fits with the idea that nihilism is a transitory state for a society, and one that must be overcome - and that john, by the end of taz, is beginning to realize what he’s created and how it is ultimately ineffective.

(semi-related note: i think john is. uh. depressed. or something. not enough canon basis to make a thesis re: this, though)

Am i definitely reading too much into taz? oh yeah. this is a goof podcast full of good goofs.

But at the same time, to go back to my original point of john vs the starblaster, the argument could be made that taz is about spitting in the face of infinity and saying “not today, fucko, these good moments are worth the rest of the shit,” and about the triumph of belief in love over time, and that if nothing matters and everything goes on forever, then you are ultimately defined by your own personal actions and you have absolute freedom coupled with infinite time, and that is a good thing.  

or. To put it in Clint McElroy’s terms: “Kiss my ass you sanctimonious bastard.”

To be particularly intellectually masturbatory, im gonna end this devastatingly long blog post with a quote from my own fic that i liked a lot. “Love is a slice of time in an eternity so big as to never have existed.”

One way to read it is to say that love does not matter in eternity.

The other is to say that eternity does not matter in the face of love.

I’m pretty sure the point of taz is the latter interpretation.


…i forget what my original point was other then taz is good, john hunger is sad but wrong.

not sure if we actually covered any new ground here? anyway, bye. thanks for reading, if you got this far. go read my fic, lmao. if you wanna discourse this out hmu or reply or w/e. It might take me a couple of days to get to replying but i will.



A Ryder x Jaal fanfiction

Originally posted by angaran-ryder

: Mass Effect: Andromeda

Pairing: F!Ryder x Jaal

Tags: Depression, cuddling, sadness, spoilers

A/N: I was a little upset that Ryder didn’t experience more emotion or anxiety over the fact that everything she knew was possibly gone back in the Milky Way. That she was among the few that stood between the extinction of multiple species trying to make a home in Andromeda. I know she is a PC, and we’re supposed to control her, but you’d think there would be more opportunity to display the emotion necessary to portray just how heavy that kind of burden is. And considering how many losses a few arks took prior to finding their way to the Nexus, the stress of that fact should have gotten even heavier. So I guess this is my little mini-fic trying to remedy that slight story oversight. Enjoy!

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“you don’t have your facts right”

buddy, pal, i don’t know what kind of alternative kool aid you’re drinking right now but it’s been pretty fuckin clear as day that felix finds holocaust jokes heavily amusing and has for a while and in today’s climate that is a fuckawful message to be spreading and as a person who makes money as a professional on a public platform he is liable for the things he says and the messages he spreads to his millions of viewers. as the owners of the platforms he uses, disney and youtube red decided his content was no longer something they wanted to endorse because of his heavy disrespect of those issues and for the messages he was spreading, intentional or no.

and mark’s speaking of respect, while true in that we shouldn’t send death threats to anyone, completely ignores that this whole situation happened due to felix’s disrespect of others and how he is facing on a professional level repercussions for his behavior. felix is still free as a human being to do what he wants, but others are equally free to tell him when he’s fucked up and hurt people and to no longer enable his hurtful speech to go to a huge audience.

yes people are allowed to be different, yes people can have different looks on life, but the choice to harm others and disrespect them still has consequences. public speakers on any platform who have large followings AND EXPECT TO MAKE MONEY OFF OF THEM are responsible for how they behave in regards to their audience and what messages they spread, and should they give a bad message they are liable to pay for those damages as professionals WHO EXPECT TO MAKE MONEY OFF OF THESE PEOPLE.

Gems Live

Having forgotten his wallet, Mr. Frowney pays for his lunch at Beach Citywalk Fries by giving Ronaldo and Peedee a pair of “special” sunglasses. Ronaldo puts them on and immediately thinks he can see subliminal messages (actually just a billboard advertising free queso with a large Guacola) and Gems trying to pose as humans (Pearl trying to decide between ketchup and catsup at the grocery store) in some sort of alien plot to secretly control the Earth. While no one takes him seriously, as usual, he attracts the attention of the Crystal Gems when he tries to launch an underground resistance movement that’s literally an underground tunnel into the temple. Can Garnet knock some sense into Ronaldo, or will nothing stop him in his quest to chew bubblegum and kick butt?

For the last month or so, I carried this book everywhere I went. The cover began to tear so I had to repair it 😜. I was weary, at first, to read a book based on mostly hypnotically regressed recollections of abduction encounters, but was surprised by the detail and imaginative quality of the material Betty Andreasson Luca presented. It is the story of Betty’s encounters with otherworldly beings since childhood. She, her daughter and her father have conscious recall of strange encounters, so it lends credibility to her story. Throughout the book, Betty had astral abductions as well as physical abductions in which she became a light being and interacted with other light beings. She was also shown various ship functions-such as a large vivarium full of earth-like flora and tiny beings no bigger then babies. They explained to her about their hybrid program - to preserve our species as well as propagate their own. The main goal of the book, according to the author Raymond Fowler, was to present the beings message to humanity. Betty believes and was told by the beings that she is to play an important role in relaying information to mankind. According to Betty, they can reside in and witness all past, present and future events and they have seen our future - that mankind is to become sterile and it is their endeavor to create and preserve our species as well as other species on the planet. They emphasis that if we do not take action to take better care of our environment, all life on earth is in danger of extinction. This message is familiar in the abduction phenomenon…so I was left to wonder - if, indeed, Betty’s encounters did occur as described, the implications for everything we thought to be true about the nature of time, reality and our purpose as a species would be quite startling…

phil: i like these videos because it means we get to talk about humanity

[five minutes later]

dan and phil: [are arguing about their own personal experiences with and opinions on coincidence and fate, and whether it’s a message from the Infinitely Large Universe]

The First Contact

Titled repost of a Random Ficlet Award ask. This is where Sten first appears!

One morning, somewhere near midday, you have a knock at your front door.

Who on earth could that be? The phone had rung a few times, but you weren’t expecting any visitors today.

You swing open the door, and gawk in wonder at the being standing there.

“Okay, so… I’m, uh, not at all sure what I’m supposed to be doing,” the insectoid being says, the translator device barely disguising his native language, a sort of purring clicking. He fumbles a bit with a piece of paper in his hands, and you notice it has your address on it.

“That’s you and me both,” you say quietly, standing dumbfounded at your front door. You’d heard about the possibility of native goodwill ambassadors hosting some of the newly discovered allies, but you’d never though you’d be one of them. And you hadn’t even known the paperwork was done being processed; you’d just applied last week. You’re suddenly beginning to wonder if you should have checked those messages… 

Nevertheless, here you were: in your pajamas with messy hair, the news on in the background talking about the newly signed treaty with the Inserrians. And here was one standing before you. You look up at them.

They were a lot bigger than you’d thought they’d be.

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