have some science!

I really do believe that at least part of the problem of people distrusting science has to do with how we as scientists portray ourselves.

We have actively created a system where we derive authority from being seen as better/smarter/more competent than everyone else and then when people ask why they should trust us we respond with a very condescending version of ‘because SCIENCE IS FACT’ or something along those lines.

Like, consider how that would feel from the outside? Here are a small group of people who you have never met/interacted with who sequester themselves in impenetrable ~elite institutions that you can’t access and don’t feel party to who then tell you that what they say is fact because they’re smarter and better educated than you. And if you ever try to question them (no matter how reasonable your objections may be/seem to you) they condescendingly pat you on the head and say something like ‘don’t worry we know better. you can’t possibly understand what we do.’

Why the hell would you trust them? 

No one likes being told that they’re not smart enough to understand something, and no one likes feeling excluded from something they’ve essentially been asked to accept sight unseen. 

I don’t really have a solution to this, except some vague notion about working harder to portray scientists as people working a job, rather than geniuses who are above it all. 

And like trying harder to understand where people are coming from when they question science. And remembering that being better educated than most doesn’t make us smarter than most. It just makes us better trained in certain types of thinking.

I just think we need to keep in mind what we are asking of people. Which is to put a whole hell of a lot of faith in us.

3

That man is gay AND european!

you all know the american high school au isayama’s got going, right?

the one at the end of every volume or whatever, with goth mikasa and jock reiner and whatnot?

so, hange’s a chemistry teacher in that au, therefore let me give you a list of things i swear they would totally do in that au for no particular reason whatsoever

  • doodle over students’ doodles when correcting homework/tests/etc
  • tell extremely bad but also extremely relevant puns
    • ex: “so we’re learning about moles today and i think you guys are really gonna dig it”
  • blow up a piece of glassware in a fume hood because they thought it would be fun to put pure lithium in water
  • set off the fire alarm at least once a year to the point where it becomes a running gag with the staff
  • go on strange tangents after lectures with armin or some other student while passing out homework
    • actually on that note they’d probably also use pop culture analogies that seem arbitrary at first but after a bit of explanation, make perfect sense
  • add a gag answer or two on their students’ finals
  • show the kids their favorite-and-still-somehow-very-relevant childhood movie on the last day of the semester
  • resell food that they have hidden in locked drawers during lunch because let’s be real here american schools suck with their budgets
  • have the entire periodic table memorized just to show off
    • (it’s not that hard to do)
    • they’d probably also have a challenge where they challenge their students to memorize and recite it too and whoever can do it wins mcdonald’s or something
  • explain the nuances of sex ed on a post-lecture tangent because they find out the biology classes are just that bad
  • be that one really cool and fun teacher that like half the students still don’t like because they’re apparently “obnoxious” or something

hey guys do you like time travel, Cold War America and lady scientists because if so, @arsparadoxica has the good good content for you

the thing about being a young woman is that they will take everything from you. and i mean everything. and they will make it about them. your makeup, your clothes, how much you eat. your attitude, your hairstyle, your gym routine. they will take your driving and your train stations and your video games. your sexuality as sexy, your gender identity as a fetish, your cooking. your tv shows and your high heels and every harmless thing. 

if they cannot eat it, if it does not satisfy them, it will be an immediate shame. they cannot control how much you put food into your body, so it is seen as disgusting. your love of starbucks is your vapid need, your comfortable boots are symbols of your inherent stupidity. your fake nails, your body’s natural cycles, the hair on you. bath bombs, pink, the low singing of women talking about depression. your crazy, your hyper, your laughter, your loud, your excited, your passions. the things which are yours, that do not belong to them, that cannot be taken and devoured like flower petals, cannot be sucked dry until the wilt forms in you. 

do not satisfy them. let them starve. let them shy from the sin of you, the unfettered sinfulness of loving taking up space.

Setting that intimate night in Karachi aside, and leaving any sentiment unaddressed, Sherlock Holmes and Irene Adler (as they were formerly known) began their collaboration during The Fall.

Their encounter with the first strand of Moriarty’s network, however, did not go quite as smoothly as planned. Shortly after they arrived in Montenegro as Mr and Mrs Wolfe, a gunfire-loaded incident had them both injured.

It also cost the late consulting detective his memory – he awoke in confusion, without the faintest knowledge of who he was.

Fortunately for him, his location was incredibly easy to deduce, as was his relationship with the only other occupant of the house.

No need to inform her of the slightly inconvenient detail just yet. He was confident everything could continue on as usual, without his wife suspecting a thing about his (hopefully temporary) condition. It was their honeymoon after all.


One of the first things he learnt about himself was that he hated being bored, hated being immobilised in bed by a leg wound.

He almost wished it was more of a challenge, who this woman was to him. But no, it was so painfully obvious even without their shiny wedding rings (only 3-4 weeks old, he estimated) immediately giving everything away, further corroborated by the state of this place (clearly not in their home country; they moved into the house a mere couple of weeks ago and were not planning to stay for much longer) indicating that they were on a holiday trip abroad.

He could’ve arrived at the same conclusion with significantly less information. From how she’d looked at him the moment he opened his eyes, for example. (It was as if he were the first rays of sunshine, heralding arrival of the precious British summer, after 11 long months of grey skies and rain.) She had since withdrawn any initial concern from her expression, maintaining a cool and collected demeanour instead. A smirk or witty remark here and there, not a single word of caring, though what was unspoken in the way she tended to his wounds was more unequivocal than any words would’ve had power to convey.

It was just as well that they weren’t a very outwardly affectionate couple. Eased his reacclimatisation to the relationship. He didn’t particularly feel an affinity for the saccharine, and if he was honest, he was even rather surprised that they were apparently the marrying type.

Whomever it was that he used to be, however, he did approve of this man’s choice of spouse. He..liked her, from what little he observed about her since he’d regained awareness of his surroundings (approx. an hour ago). The nature of their relationship might have been the simplest of deductions, but the woman herself was most decidedly not. She was highly complex and incredibly fascinating. Intelligent, competent, self-assured, gorgeous.. (Wait, where did that last one come from? That wasn’t a deduction! Beauty was just a social construct.) Although he was certain that the intense (and very distracting) attraction he was experiencing had a more profound basis.

He couldn’t pinpoint what exactly it was about her that conferred this singular sense of connection, familiarity layered with mystery. Merely that it was there as a result of something, something he frustratingly had no tangible recollection of – his current data was far from sufficient in providing him with any glimpse into their history.

She was standing to leave his bedside, and he instinctively reached out and caught her wrist. To gesture to her that she, too, needed to rest – it was likely already late in the evening when he awoke. He had to have been unconscious for days, judging from her lack of sleep (obvious, despite her efforts to conceal her mental and physical exhaustion).

Her reaction was one he hadn’t expected. Her eyes widened, and her breath hitched, as he was pulling her onto the bed. Shocked? But they were husband and wife, presumably sharing the same bed, it was only logical that she–

Oh. Oh. It hadn’t occurred to him that the specific physical contact he initiated could be interpreted as prelude to intimacy and..intercourse. A sudden adrenaline spike sent his own heart pounding frantically as he felt the mattress dip beside him when she did begin to lie down, her proximity increasingly alarming, and he turned on his side to face away from her, to escape her deep blue gaze (it wasn’t to hide his blush, and it wasn’t panic, he shouldn’t panic, that would be absurd).

“Sherlock, what–” And he stumbled over his interrupting response, “Not that. Not today. I don’t think I’m feeling up to it.”

The silence that stretched between them, taut as a violin string, told him that she was studying his demeanour, undoubtedly finding it unusual (right, so sex wasn’t something he’d normally deny her of; still, he was in recovery from what must’ve been a traumatic event, a reasonable excuse). Whatever comment she was most likely biting back (he couldn’t risk turning around to confirm this hypothesis), she didn’t say it.

Instead, he sensed her movement as she finally reached for the light switch after a long moment, and within an instant darkness was upon them. For which he was extremely thankful, because he then felt soft lips pressed to his cheek, immediately causing it to heat up.

“Good night, Mr Holmes.” Her warm body was inches away, her breathing a pleasant sound in the quiet of the night.

He tried to ignore the involuntary neuronal activity protesting for a change of mind regarding his earlier decision, his statement to her that he wasn’t keen to perform (you liarrrr), and forced his thoughts to focus on the newly acquired knowledge of his full name.

Sherlock Holmes awoke in the late-morning light, with an arm comfortably wrapped around his wife. Time to piece together the remainder of this puzzle that was his life. He hoped it wasn’t a dull one.

6

if nothing else I can definitely say this job has convinced me I can do absolutely anything

I can work for 30 hours straight on no sleep in harsh weather conditions on the rolling deck of a small boat, I can lift and sort thousands of pounds of slimy fish over the course of the day, I can keep working through intense sickness while remaining cheerful, and I can get along with literally anyone in order to do my job

this is……. the field job to rule them all

annemariegregory replied to your post“jason dohring is looking FINE AS HEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLL IN iZOMBIE not…

WHAT OHMY G OD

I THOUGHT HE GREW UP GREAT IN THE MOVIE DID HE GET BETTER

I AGREE HE GREW UP GRATE IN MOVIE.
THIS IS BETTER

I HAVE INCLUDED SOME SCREENSHOTS FOR SCIENCE PURPOSES AND FOR RESEARCH AND FOR ARCHIVAL SCIENCY REASONS.

LIKE THIS IS FOR SCIENCE.

SCIENCE SLUMBER PARTY

BULGE SCIENCE (one of the more PRESTIGIOUS sciences) 

Bulge Science an Anthology

CHEST SCEINCE.

BACK SCIENCE.

BOOOOOTTTTYYYYYYYY SCIENCE.