It’s early in the morning and nobody will probably read this but I just had the greatest ‘humans are space orcs’ idea
Imagine if humans are the only species that experiences impatience.
Think about it. Most prey animals are extremely patient. Ever meet a deer or a rabbit in the woods and hold still to try and out-wait the thing? I can guarantee your brain starts sending bored bored bored messages very quickly, and your instincts start telling you to give up and find something else to do. Humans can do the patience thing- as evidenced by our endurance hunting methods- but our instincts tell us not to. Correct me if I’m wrong, but this feels like a predator development. I have the idea that if aliens are mostly prey-based, and we’re predator-based, then the aliens will be very patient and we just aren’t.
As an evolutionary development, being impatient can be brilliant. It means that we didn’t sit around and wait for the ice caps to warm up, we knew we didn’t have the technology to survive that level of cold, but we did it anyways. We were trying to send people into the sky and then into space before we had fully figured it all out, simply because we didn’t want to wait and think it out, we wanted SPACE and we wanted it NOW. And personally, I tend to be extremely productive and inventive when I’m feeling impatient. Mechanic is booked for a few days? I’ll figure out how to change my oil and tires and tint my car’s windows myself. Strawberry season is still 4 months away? I’ll get a heat lamp setup and grow them myself. Friends can’t visit and help move furniture for a week? I’ll build a trolley out of some toy cars, tape, a chessboard, and do all the lifting myself.
This impatience is what made us design faster cars, faster computers, faster internet, faster communication, methods of growing food faster, of processing food faster, we’re always looking for the quickest and most efficient thing simply because we are not patient.
Impatience leads to a type of creativity and persistence that patience just doesn’t have.
Imagine aliens starting to realize this.
“You got to your moon before you had developed LED screens??? You didn’t even have computers that could do basic math?!” “Well, what else were we gonna do, sit around and wait?”
“Your planes don’t have gravitational control? Don’t you experience discomfort from the acceleration and directional changes?” “Sure. But we needed to get on the other side of the planet in a decent amount of time.” “So… what you’re articulating is that you’d rather have physical distress than have to have a long journey?” “Yeah, pretty much.”
“Human____, our mechanical teams will be on site in several of your earth hours, so we won’t be going anywhere until then.” “Screw that. Where’s the manual for this thing? I bet I can fix it.” “But you don’t have any mechanical training.” “I also don’t feel like sitting around on this rock for ages.”
“You’re back already? I thought your medical representative told you to not be walking on that limb for another of your weeks.” “Ugh. I just can’t anymore. I’ve got to get up and move and do something, anything.” “But doesn’t that hurt to walk on?” “Absolutely.” “…You would choose pain over waiting?” “What can I say, I’m not a patient person.”
Like aliens just being baffled that humans would rather work hard or struggle with a problem or even experience pain and discomfort. They, as prey species, are used to just waiting it out. They don’t have the same impatience driving them to get up and go and to fight through things just because they can’t wait any longer.
Bonus: Human: Ain’t nobody got time for that! Alien: Why don’t you have time? Is something scheduled soon? Human: No, I just don’t feel like wasting time. Alien: But… it’s not wasted. It’s time well spent. And you do technically have the time to spare for that. If there’s nothing scheduled, then you do ‘got time for that’. Human: No. No, I don’t. It’s just… no.
tbph: you don’t have to like cats but if you call them evil I’m pretty dubious about the chances we’ll get along right off the bat, because if your way of evaluating human interactions is anything like your way of evaluating interactions with animals, you’re extremely hostile towards and resentful of being required to adapt to means of communication you aren’t familiar with in order to establish a relationship, and automatically place all the burden of mutual understanding on the other person from the second you meet them
Ever want to ask a real life astronaut a question? Here’s your chance!
Astronaut Jessica Meir will be taking your questions in an Answer Time session on Saturday, March 11 from 4:30-5:30pm ET/1:30-2:30pm PT here on NASA’s Tumblr. Make sure to ask your question now by visiting http://nasa.tumblr.com/ask!
Jessica Meir was selected to become an astronaut in 2013 and was part of NASA’s first astronaut class that was 50% female. She and her astronaut classmates are training to fly to space now and are involved in the future of our human exploration program. She’d like to be one of the first astronauts to set foot
on Mars and pursue technological and scientific advances.
She holds a Bachelor of Arts in Biology from Brown University, a Master of Science in Space Studies from the International Space University, and a Doctorate in Marine Biology from Scripps Institution of Oceanography (UCSD). In her research, the Caribou, Maine native studied the physiology of animals in extreme environments.
You know what show is fucking amazing and like no one apparently knows about it?
It was the 90′s sequel series to The Real Ghostbusters, the animated series in the 80′s following the movie. Egon is the only Buster still bustin’ (with Janine of course) and teaches Paranormal 101 at the local college, and recruits his 4 students as the new team.
And look at these fucking characters:
From right to left bc Egon’s in the way:
Black dude, crazy book smart especially about engineering and science, looks after his troublesome little bro a lot, super nice guy, really charitable
Hispanic dude, street slick and known for being kind of a jerk & slacker but is actually a sweetie, brother is a cop and there’s a whole conflict explored there, is totally in love with:
Goth chick, cool and witty and all about that occult ghosty shit, full of trauma (including a Real GB experience with the Grundel), was mostly raised by her great grandmother (now deceased) after her parents divorced, lives alone now with her cat, kinda has a crush on Egon
Disabled dude - wheelchair bound since birth, comic relief, athlete, claustrophobic, wants to have a son and teach him how to use a wheelchair, fell in love with a moleperson
So not only does this program have a beautifully diverse cast, they also address major issues like racism, antisemitism, peer pressure, ableism, feminism, some classism, greed, etc etc etc. (admittedly some critiques are presented as jokes, particularly the ableist stuff)
But like this show was exciting, had interesting animation, is so totally 90′s, kept the GB train rolling, and had all these awesome unique characters and episodes that we are looking for in media? and it’s for kids so extra good on that??
All episodes are on Youtube, seriously I think people should watch and love and spread
(also the theme song rocks)
(oh also there’s a two-part arc with all the Real Ghostbusters there too)
I think that one of the funniest things about the “Earth is a death planet and human’s are space orcs” posts and stuff is that that’s literally a major plot point in Animorphs. Like, the aliens in the series frequently comment on how there is just an extremely excessive amount animals with unique ways to kill or maim you on the planet, and that humans, despite looking fragile and weak in comparison, are scary as shit because they’re stubborn and ruthless and refuse to stop even when any sane species would have given up ages ago. Like there are aliens described as “walking salad shooters” with bladed spikes shooting out all over their bodies, and then you find out that all of that is just so they can harvest tree bark to eat and a whole army of them can be disabled by a single skunk. It is described in loving detail all the different ways a house cat can fuck you up, and don’t even get me started on actual predators and the damage they can do when a ridiculous stubborn, reckless, and creative human brain is what’s controlling them. The alien invaders comment about how they’re going to have to basically kill off 90% of earths species once they win the war because the planet is so damn excessive about this whole ‘murder animals’ thing, and sometimes they’re even like “you know, in hindsight, this is not nearly as easy as we assumed it would be”
Summary: Peter finally has the chance to say I love you.
Warnings: Slight swearing, very fluffy, very cute.
Word Count: 1442
It’s been three weeks since you
finally dropped the official I love you to
Peter while you thought he was sleeping. It also has been three weeks where
Peter has been driving himself crazy trying to figure out when and how to tell
you that he is just as in love with you. Unbeknownst to you, he heard you
open up to him and wants take the next step into your relationship.
Since he dropped by for an impromptu
sleepover, Peter has been extra attentive to you. The morning after he woke up
extra early to grab you breakfast from your favorite diner, serving it with a
side of morning kisses and cuddles. Luckily your parent(s) slipped out early
for a work shift. Throughout the rest of the weekend Peter stuck by your side,
slipping out for no more than three hours at a time to attend his Spider-Man
duties. Even then your superhero seems reluctant to leave. Throughout the
following weeks at school, whenever you are with Peter he always manages to
find some way to keep touching you. Whether it be playing footsie during class,
an arm around your shoulder during lunch, or even having his hand on the small
of your back when you walk together. Peter Parker could not keep his webby
hands to himself!
A common myth perpetrated by the mainstream media is that mass shootings are committed overwhelmingly by white males. While the majority of shootings that are reported are commonly attributed to white men, shootings committed by racial minorities DO happen, and are tragically on the rise.
Jeffrey James Weise - known in life as ‘Jeff’ - was an Ojibwe Indian born on the Red Lake reservation in 1988. His parents were poor and unmarried, and baby Jeff was regularly traded between his mother and father as a young boy. He was a big child for his age, and didnt mix well with other children; Jeff wrote later as a teenager that he endured terrible bullying as a child, where other kids would call him names like “redskin” and “lardass”. When Jeff was only eight years old, his father committed suicide after a three day standoff with police. Just two years later his mother would be severely brain damaged after being in a car accident. Jeff was forced to leave Minneapolis (where he had lived practically his entire life) to live with his grandfather, Darryl Lussier (who was an active police officer) in Red Lake, Minnesota. He was thirteen when he was enrolled in Red Lake High.
Though Jeff enjoyed a more stable home life, the bullying at school intensified; students would tease him about his size and weight (by age sixteen Weise would stand over six feet and weigh 250 pounds) and because he frequently wore black. As he entered puberty Jeff started acting out in class and exhibited emotional problems, yet never turned violent or aggressive. One girl even described Jeff as “sweet and trustworthy” and teachers noted his talent in drawing and writing.
At age fourteen Jeff attempted to kill himself on two separate occasions, and after the second attempt he was hospitalised and put on a high dosage of Prozac. It was around this time that he expressed interest in Nazism, and even joined the Nazi Party. Jeff spent hours on his home computer writing essays on the collapse of the American Indian nation and creating crude animations featuring extreme violence. At school he became sullen and withdrawn and even snapped the Nazi salute at his teachers.
On March 21, 2005 - at the age of sixteen - Jeff Weise snapped. He grabbed an illegally procured pistol from his bedroom and shot dead his grandfather, Daryl Lussier, as he slept. He also shot Lussier’s girlfriend with the dead man’s police issue shotgun, and stole his grandfathers car. Before entering Red Lake High Jeff put on a heavy black overcoat and hid two pistols and the shotgun beneath it. A security guard who held open the front door for him was killed instantly, and Weise proceeded to randomly shoot at anyone he saw in the front corridor. A teacher who heard the first shots locked her children in the classroom and came out to confront Weise; he shot her dead. Three students who rushed at him were also fatally shot, and two more were killed as they huddled in a utility closet. Throughout the shooting Weise was observed laughing, and even called out the names of students running away from him. Weise made weak attempts to open classrooms by threatening the children within, but didnt try to force his way in.
Soon after Weise killed the security guard a teacher pushed a panic button in the school library; within minutes Red Lake High was surrounded by police officers. Weise attempted to fight off police but was injured in his hip and leg. As armed officers pressed forward Weise managed to crawl into an empty room, where he committed suicide with his grandfathers shotgun. Overall, nine people were dead or dying, and five others had sustained injuries.
The Jeffrey Weise case has prompted a call for reform in the psychiatric system in regards to giving children medication. Weise’s actions have been partially blamed on the easy availability of anti-depressants as well as the negative influence of internet culture. Weise was a regular user of internet chat rooms and several profiles were discovered after his death that outlined his emotional disturbances and violent thoughts towards his peers.
pairing: More of a mutual hate? Ivar slightly turned on by your antic’s, I guess Ivar x Reader
fandom: Vikings. Modern University student, disgruntled flatmate AU
warnings: Coarse language, hinted masturbation, extremely antisocial behaviour, dead animals
Prompt from: @whenimaunicornFriday Night Ritual (It’s Friday night where I live) this is just for fun I thought of this when I saw the photo above and thought why not?
This was it, you told yourself. You’d had it. This had to stop. This was the seventh time this week alone. You didn’t mind music, hell, you even loved the song that was playing right now, but you could not sleep with ‘Hit the Road Jack’ blasting out of your flatmate’s room at 1:00 am. You didn’t know him very well. You shared a kitchen, living room and bathroom, the rest of your time you spent in your room studying or out working shifts at the Petrol station. The landlord Floki had said that he was a family friend, also he advised that if you kept out of Ivar’s way, you’d be fine, whatever the hell that meant.
The conditions of your stay were fine by you, the flat was relatively nice, in your price range and close to the train station. You had no problem’s with your flatmate. You hardly even saw him. Sometimes he would be in the kitchen when you went to get something or he’d be watching TV. You smiled and said hello, but he would just glare back say the occasional hi or hey. And that was the way things were until, the second week in when you accidentally ate his favourite cereal. To you it wasn’t a big deal, you’d honestly made a mistake and grabbed the wrong box when you went for a midnight snack. You brought him a new box and put a post-it note on it saying that you were sorry. And that’s how it all started.
You’d gone to get ready for a lecture the next day. You had a shower and went to dry your hair with the hair dryer. You turned it on only to get a face full of baby powder. You sputtered and shrieked, but after you laughed. Yeah, okay, you had to admit that was pretty funny.
“Okay Ivar, I supposed I deserved that, good one!” You sung out to him across the house, but you got no reply. You sighed, would it really kill him to say something other than; hey, hi, good, hmm, yes, no and bye? You cleaned off again and left for your lecture. That night you came home from your shift and you couldn’t wait to finally get some shut eye. You opened the door to your room and flopped onto your bed, only to jump back up and scream in pain as what felt like a dozen needles dug into your flesh. Heaving, you threw back the covers to find forks strategically taped exactly where you had flopped on the bed. Okay, this was not funny. How the hell did he even get into your room? You had locked it with a key.
You marched to his room and pounded on the door. He opened it with a smug expression on his annoyingly handsome face.
“Ivar, I am sorry about your cereal, but forks, really?”
“Oh it’s not just about the cereal,” he snarled, his face contorted into a wicked grin.
“Okay?” You took a step back, “What is this about then?” He actually looked quite scary.
“I was quite happy here by myself until you showed up, leaving the teaspoons wherever the hell you like, kicking ice cubes and crumbs under the fridge, putting the water bottle’s back half empty and your hair…”
“What about my hair?” You asked defensively.
“You shed like a dog, it’s fucking everywhere!” You felt as if you’d been slapped, did he just compare you to a dog?
“What is your problem!?” You yelled at him.
“You!” He growled back, but then he smirked, “But you won’t be for much longer, I will get rid of you, just like the last one,” he sneered and he slammed the door. Leaving you confused and slightly scared. What did he mean like the last one? Was he a serial killer?
The days past and his meaning became clear; he wanted you to move out. However, you were determined to stay a thorn in his side. You endured; food dye in your toothpaste, your clothes changing colour in the wash, him buying a universal remote and randomly changing the channels while you were watching TV, an ice bucket challenge in the middle of the night, even, finding a dead mouse in your shoe and a frog in the coffee pot but, you drew the line at continuous sleep deprivation. You marched to his room again and pounded on the door.
“Okay asshole I am willing to negotiate with you!” You screamed over the music. It suddenly stopped and the door swung open, he greeted you with a triumphant smirk plastered across his face.
“So,” he drawled, “When will you be leaving?” You clenched your fist.
“I will not be leaving!” You fumed. He snarled and turned back to the stereo, you grabbed his wrist before he could flip it back on, “I know you can’t sleep either while that’s blasting.”
“I won’t stop until you are gone and I get my flat back, this is war,” he snatched his hand back.
“You are insanely petty, you know that? The flat was never yours, it belongs to Floki! Stop acting like a child! I’m staying here, whether you like it or not and you’re going to have to either, deal with it or move out because I sure as hell can’t afford anywhere else!” You screamed at him. He stiffened and looked at you curiously.
“I can’t believe you, of all people, hold the record,” he commented looking you up and down
“The record for longest stay; four weeks two days, before that it was only two weeks.You are the most stubborn person I have ever met.”
“Now that’s the pot calling the kettle black,” you spat before turning around and storming out of his room. The music started up again. You turned back around to see him flipping you the bird in the hallway. “Really? Grow up Ivar,” you commented before you grabbed your bag and headed out the front door.
“Where are you going? Are you finally leaving?”
For once you smirked back at him, “If you want a war, you’re going to get one. I’m bringing down the thunder Ivar, surrender or batten down the hatches.”
You went to the 24hrs corner store. Not only were you going to need, weapons, tools and ammunition you were going to need protection and provisions. You had three brothers, you were a prank war veteran, but this was no laughing matter, your residence was at stake. When you finally got to the checkout the clerk looked at your items and then to you.
“Don’t ask,” you warned and slapped your card on the desk, the clerk only nodded and scanned the items.
“Are you okay hun?” She asked slightly concerned.
“I haven’t slept in two days and there’s a frog in my coffee pot. No, I am not okay.”
“Boyfriend trouble?” She asked handing you your groceries.
“I wish it was that simple,” you murmured and headed back to your flat.
The first thing you did was lock your door, then you barricaded it. You had no lectures or shifts tomorrow, but you knew for a fact that Ivar did, you had taken a photo of his timetable he left on the kitchen bench. Revenge would come, but not now, you thought to yourself as Annie Lennox’s voice drifted through the flat singing ‘Sweet Dreams’. Sweet dreams indeed you smiled as you pulled out your industrial-grade earplugs and slipped them into your ears.
The next day you didn’t waste your time. You avoided the trip wire in the hallway and made a beeline for his room. You experimentally turned the door knob. Locked. You took out your key, now was the moment of truth, was Floki a real cheapskate? Had he installed the same locks? You slid the key in and it miraculously fitted and turned. So that’s how Ivar was sneaking into your room. You smiled and stood back, not stupid enough to stand in front of the opening door in case he booby trapped it. But after nothing happened it appeared that he thought you were either stupid or had no lock picking skills. You hauled your supplies into his room and got to work. When you were done in his room you pulled out your phone. You opened the phonebook and found the number you were looking for and dialled it. You couldn’t wait for Ivar to get back home.
He came home at five o’clock. He opened the door and slipped on the oil you had placed there moments before.
“Welcome home, flatmate,” you smiled as you sat on the couch sipping your tea.
“Amateur,” he grunted picking himself off the ground.
“I tried my best.” You shrugged feigning defeat. You wish you could follow him and watch the chaos unfold with your own eyes, but you lurking down the hallway would make him suspicious. You didn’t worry though, you had hidden a camera in his room. You wondered what would get him first, the chair or the bed. A loud hoot of a fog horn and a scream of shock answered your question. The chair.
“You’ve been in my room?!” He raged.
“Oh yeah I hope you didn’t mind, I had a bit of a clean up in there. See, you had so many clothes and I thought that there were so many people in need, so I donated them.” You smiled sweetly. “Oh,” you added, “And I found your porn stash you pervert, that’s gone too.”
You heard him start stomping down the hallway cursing. Time to go. You ran to your room and shut the door and locked it before he reached it.
“You coward! Come back out here!” He slapped your door angrily. You didn’t actually donate his clothes, they were safely wrapped up in plastic bags under your bed, but the porn stash? Well, it rested in pieces.
“You thought I was a problem before? How do you like me now mother fucker!” You taunted. You heard him rustle the keys, and scratch at the lock. You smiled, ah revenge was sweet.
“What the fuck?” he cursed.
“Also, I figured out how you’ve been getting in here, I had a locksmith come today. Give it up Ivar.”
“Okay, well played, well played. I didn’t know you had it in you, but you’ll have to come out sooner or later,” he hissed.
“Nope, I’m set for a few days. I have a cooler, a bucket, food and water in here. Do you yield?”
“Never! When you come out I will make you regret this, I’ll have Floki evict you,” he snarled.
“What? Can’t you get rid of me yourself? What is it now? Hmm… four weeks and three days?”
You heard him storm off grumbling something under his breath.
You smiled as you heard the smoke alarm go off accompanied by a string of curses. That would be him microwaving the aluminium foil you taped to the underside of his favourite plate.
“Do you yield?” You yelled out.
“Go to hell!” You got in response. You smiled, you were enjoying this too much.
“I have your clothes, if you give up and allow me to live in peace and admit that I am worthy of staying here, I’ll give them back to you,” you cooed. You heard him storm back to his room, moments later you heard a disgusted yell. That would be the live crickets you put in his bed. Half an hour later you heard laughter. Mad, broken laughter. You assumed that would be because of the Nicolas Cage face you had pasted to the inside of his cupboard or the swapped CDs in the wrong cases. You frowned as you heard footsteps approach your door. What was he doing now?
“Okay asshole I am willing to negotiate with you,” he spoke finally.
“There will be no negotiation, you yield, we live in peace and you admit that I am worthy of staying here and I will give your clothes back.”
“Oh but you are forgetting something,” he almost sung. You creased you brow.
“And what’s that?”
“I can change the Wifi password.”
“No!” You shrieked. That evil bastard!
“Are you ready to negotiate?”
You couldn’t risk it. You opened the door. Ivar strode in and sat at your desk.
“Now what?” You shrugged, “I’m not leaving.”
“Neither am I,” he stated.
“Well it seems we agree on one thing, we both want to live here. So can we live in peace?”
“I think we can, If you give me my clothes back and never cross me again.”
“I will, if you don’t cross me again and you swear never to change the Wifi password. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” he nodded and you shook his hand. He seemed to hold some kind of newfound respect in his eyes. Smiling you bent down and reached under the bed to retrieve his clothes. You turned back around and caught him quickly averting his eyes. Wait? Was he just staring at your ass? You looked back to him and frowned, don’t be stupid, you told yourself. You infuriate him. He would not be one bit interested in you.
“You are a worthy opponent, and you by far, are my favourite flatmate,” he grinned darkly.
“Well you’re not my favourite flatmate, but you keep me on my toes,” you smiled and shoved his bags of clothes in his arms and herded him out the door. He got to his room before he turned to you again.
“By the way, I was bluffing, only Floki can change the Wifi password. I just needed a way to get you to listen to me,” he smirked, “You still need to prove you’re worth keeping around.”
Damn it, you fumed. He had no real leverage, he tricked you into a truce!
“Oh go fuck yourself!” You hurled the first insult that came to your mind.
“Perhaps I will,” he turned back to you, you gawked like a fish out of water. “But trust me,” he continued, “After this, I won’t be imagining that my hands are my own, my favourite flatmate,” he smirked suggestively and shut the door behind him locking it, leaving you a flustered mess. You buried your face in your pillow and groaned. You bolted up in shock when you realised you had left the camera in his room, rolling. Fuck.