human exhibits

13 Shameful Pictures of African People in Human Zoos.

In the late 1800s to well into the 1900s, Europeans created “human zoos” in cities like Paris; Hamburg, Germany; Antwerp, Belgium; Barcelona, Spain; London; Milan; Warsaw, Poland; St Louis; and New York City. 

These were popular human exhibits where whites went to watch Black people who were on display. The Black people were usually forced to live behind gates and in cages similar to animals in a zoo today.

Some of the Black people were kidnapped and brought to be exhibited in the human zoos. Many died quickly, some within a year of their captivity.

The following are 13 incidents of white people holding Africans captive in human zoos.

We now know who the real “savages” are, and it’s not the Black people forced to live in those cages in zoos.

#HumanZoo
#BlackHistoryMonth

Here's a thought:

What if the Hogwarts sorting process is less about who you are, and more about what you need?

The sorting hat sees a boy thrust into a new world he barely understands, a boy desperate not to blend in with the crowd, and a girl who would sink as deep into her books as she is allowed, and says- what do these children need? They need courage. The courage to keep moving forward despite overwhelming circumstances and high stakes, the courage to see themselves as heroes, the courage to speak up and speak out against injustice.

The hat sees a lost girl whose world has been shattered, who can’t be bothered to fit the world she sees to others’ standards, and says- what does she need? Knowledge. The knowledge of how and why things happen, and the wisdom to accept the things she cannot change.

The hat sees a boy desperate to fill his father’s shoes, used to getting his way and confused at a world that works differently than he was taught. The hat says- he needs power. He needs an identity that will remind him that he has worth, that he can be more than he is.

I wouldn’t want to attend a hogwarts that sorted based on what universal human trait I exhibited most often. I wouldn’t want to attend a hogwarts that sorted similar personalities into uniform groups. I would want to attend a hogwarts that sorts based on its students’ needs, doing its best to help them succeed.

When dumbledore says, “perhaps we sort too soon,” maybe he sees the good that a little bit of courage, instead of a sense of self-worth inflated into superiority, could have done Severus Snape.

Maybe the most dark wizards come out of slytherin because, despite their house’s best intentions, they never quite find the confidence they need there. And it is the unsatisfied, those most disenchanted with the system, who seek to destroy it.

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What inspired you to get into acting?
We live in a world that focuses so much on beauty, perfection, and filters that we forget sometimes that the real beauty of humanity is in the imperfections. There is nothing wrong with striving to be your best self, but don’t completely change who you are to fit into a mold. That’s what inspires me to create these characters - the opportunity to exhibit human flaws in a positive light. Actors go to the uncomfortable emotional places and confront these issues in the hopes that it will inspire people to reflect upon their own lives and any issues they may be facing.

The Catholic Church’s practice of barring women from the priesthood is misogyny, pure and simple. There is nothing that inherently makes men better at being priests than women. There is no aspect of priesthood that women are incapable of performing. The Bible makes no mention of which sex can be priests and although scripture states Jesus came to Earth in a man’s body, women prophets were present in the Bible. And besides, we’re supposedly all made in God’s image, so as long as human beings exhibit more than one sex, so must God, right? So what exactly is the justification for women being barred from the priesthood, and, by extension, the formal leadership positions of bishops, cardinals, and the Pope? With no rational or scriptural explanation, what is there but misogyny?

Becoming a Queen

You knew your ship was doomed. You were the only one left alive, though as far as you could tell, there was only one of those /things/ left, too. You wanted to set a course to crash into the planet then use one of the escape pods to get to safety.

But that was before one of those leaping fuckers found you.

Your ship had been on expedition to explore some hitherto undiscovered locations. There were rumors that there was xenomoph activity in this area, which had you and the other scientists all excited. You’d heard about them, but you’d never had the chance to observe them. The plan was if you found them to watch from afar and remain as hands off as possible.

You never counted on how diligent they could be, or how gah damned smart they were. For alien creatures who’s only drive seemed to be to breed and kill, they exhibited almost human levels of intelligence. They ambushed your crew, sticking them to the walls to allow facehuggers to inject eggs into them to make more. You’d never seen it happen in person. You’d seen them dissected, seen pictures of their probing ovipositors, but watching it happen in person had been the most horrifically fascinating moment of your life.

The soldiers that had accompanied the expedition had done an excellent job of isolating and eliminating most of the aliens, burning the eggs you had recovered from a stranded ship and blowing said ship into stardust.

But one had escaped.

If they were smart, this one was a savant. It had not only figured out how to work doors, but also to let its victims scream to lure more along. You observed it (no..him) several times, noticing that the elongated cranium that was usually smooth and round had begun to flatten out, black carapace forming a hard hood more often observed in queens. But you understood what was happening: he was adapting to his environment, taking on a needed role. You’d only heard of alpha xenomorphs as a theory, a sort of last ditch effort that some of their amalgamated biologies allowed. Some theorized is was the human members of their species, allowing for remarkable adaptability both environmentally and biologically.

The soldiers had set another trap, and the alpha had just set it off as a lure to kill several of them. A few of the remaining soldiers had tried to attack him then, only to end up cut off and killed on by one.

You had a close encounter with him, and you thought it would have been the end of you. If only that had been so…He cornered you and your team, slaughtering two of them. When he raised a clawed hand at you, he hesitated. A low growl came from him, and his lizard like lips relaxed over his dripping teeth. He growled and sniffled, butting his muzzle against you. You thought for sure you were dead…instead he pressed his head against you, rubbing at you almost like a cat would.

He ran off when the few remaining soldiers tried to attack him. Your heart was pounding and you could barely breathe. They asked if you were alright, and you suddenly realized you were the only one of that group left.

Things seemed to go downhill from there. You always had the sense that he was following you, hearing his claws on the gratings around you, seeing his long tail whip around corners. The last of the soldiers and crew began to dwindle, getting picked off in the mad attempts to get back to the ship’s bridge. By the time there was a clear path, you were the only one left.

That was when it found you. It looked like a chestburster, only larger with longer legs and tail. You ran, keeping an arm up level with your head and neck. But this one wasn’t concerned with your mouth. It flung itself at you and landed on your lower back, its tail clamping around your waist. Its legs gripped your buttocks and thighs, and you felt two sharp points ripping at your jumpsuit. You felt the tapered end of the ovipositor probing you, searching. You tried to pull it off, but its grip was iron. You slammed backward into walls, but its back was covered in a hard shell like the aliens themselves. It shifted itself between your thighs, the same shell forcing your legs apart.

It found your warm hole and thrust in. You screamed and frantically grabbed for it, but it was pressed up against you so tightly, you couldn’t even wiggle a finger between it and you. You screamed again, feeling it thrust upward into you. It reached impossibly deep, and you felt your stomach pushing outward with its movements.

Then you felt it. A lump against your hole. You threw yourself on the ground and tried to make it stop, but you were powerless to stall the inevitable. You felt the large sacs on the thing convulsing and sending ripples down its ovipositor. Your belly felt hot suddenly, and you gasped, clutching at it. Your hole was wet with some sort of alien goo it filled you with. Every lump was more goo, and the feeling of heat spread through you.

Another bump pressed to your hole, this one large and solid. You screamed no over and over, trying to thrash free of this thing attached to you in a death grip. Your hole stretched wider and wider to the point where you swore you would rip in two. Convulsing on the ground, you sobbed in mixed pleasure and pain, gasping when the hard thing passed into your body. You felt every inch it moves, and look down to see it pushing your belly outward.

Everything from there was fuzzy. The thing pumped more goo into you until your belly looked like you’d had a meal that was far too large. You crawled down the corridor, tears streaming down your face as you realized there was no salvation for you, not now. You only had one option left: crash the ship to destroy everything on board. You felt your stomach surge and convulse, churning and growing steadily heavier. By the time you reached the bridge, you looked like you were pregnant, your belly almost brushing the floor.

It took the last of your strength to pull yourself up to the navigation computer. Even as you key in the commands, overriding the ship’s safety protocols for a steep descent, you feel something happening inside you. You sob, knowing this must be the moment they punch through you and rip free…

But they don’t.

You see them moving inside you, writhing and slithering like snakes. Your belly is so full and heavy it’s all you can do to stay upright. You fumble your ID code, blinking back tears as you put it in for the fourth time. The computer finally accepts your trajectory, and you let yourself fall on the floor.

As you scream and hold your belly, you’re aware of not being alone. You know the sound of hard claws on the metal of the ship, scrabbling as the creature moves closer. He shrieks, though you don’t know why. You don’t really care either. You would have loved to study him, learn why he grew so large and why his head grew as it did. He looked like a king somehow.

All thoughts of that leave you as your stomach convulses. The movement in you shifts, and you scream as you feel the writhing mass move lower. You lay on your back, legs spread. Screaming and panting, you press your back to the floor and push with all your might. You feel your hole bulge and stretch, something smooth and wiggling pressing against it. You push and scream, feeling a long thing slither out of you. Before you can even see what it is, the pressure builds again. You push, screaming as two more press out of you side by side.

It feels like eternity as you lay there, panting and pushing, countless things slithering out of your hole. You finally see them as a couple of them climb across you. They’re neonate xenomorphs, their soft skin still fleshy and covered in the greenish goo the strange facehugger forced into you. Most of them scatter when the alpha pads toward you. He growls and lays over you, his smooth body cool against your flushed skin.

All around you, sirens are going off, the ship’s warning systems kicking on. It’s placidly screaming the descent is wrong, it’s too fast, too steep. You hope the ship burns up in atmosphere. The last thing you remember is heat, the ship’s life support falling to critical levels as the white hot burn of planetary entry seared the plating off the hull.

You never expected to wake up. Blinking blearily, you looked around, wondering where you were. Pieces of the wrecked ship surrounded you, and you could see huge trees between them.

Somehow, you survived the crash.

You can’t move, looking up to see your arms have been carefully secured in glossy black resin. The same kind the xenos restrain their chest burster victims in. You try to move, but you’re dangling about 10 feet off the ground and are powerless to so much as twist. You look down at yourself and see your belly is still slightly distended. You don’t feel the writhing weight inside you anymore, but it still feels..wrong.

Below, you see several small xenos run back and forth, one of them looking up at you and screeching. The trees shudder, and the alpha appears. He’s grown even larger, almost 9 feet tall now. He easily climbs up to you, the long fingers of one hand forcing your mouth open. His lips curl back and his huge teeth part, and you see his secondary mouth shoot forward. You scream and writhe as he forces it into your mouth and angles to shove it down your throat. He growls and his torso jerks, and you feel something sliding down your throat. He’s..feeding you?

This becomes a regular routine, him returning from the forest and pushing his secondary mouth into yours to share his hunts with you. You beg him to stop, to let you go or let you die, but he just growls and rubs his smooth head against you.

You’ve lost track of time. Your body is changing, you can feel it. Slowly, day by day, your belly is growing again, though much more than before. The alpha begins to nose and prod along your body, often trying your hole with the smooth swell of his nose. You realize your hole has become softer and larger, and each day it feels like he can slide his muzzle further against you.

You start to notice him changing, too. The carapace between his hind legs seems to have softened, swelling outward slowly, growing. You realize somehow, he’s grown a penis. As far as you know, that’s completely unheardof. Yet there it is, dangling between his legs.

He climbed up to where you were hanging, taking you in his hands. He growled and settled his head over your shoulder as his body bowed. His hips work their way between your legs, and you feel the head of his newly grown cock spread your hole. You can’t resist, you can barely cry out when he thrusts into you. There’s no pleasure to it, not tenderness or love. He thrusts roughly, pushing deep into you. You feel your body react, everything in you suddenly alive with sensation. You cry out and thrash, then scream in pleasure as he cums inside you. Your already distended belly grows larger as he pumps you full.

Time passes. Your belly grows until it’s hanging between your legs. The alpha and the smaller xenos you birthed on the ship connect your growing belly to the broken ship with more resin, taking the burden of weight bearing off of you. You’re grateful to them. The alpha fucks you almost daily, further distending your belly.

Little by little, black patches appear on your skin. Hardened plates cover your arms and legs, then your chest above the swell of your belly. From your ribs downward, you are nothing but belly, your legs dangling comically on either side. Your hole continues to stretch, and though you can’t see it, you’re fairly certain it’s moved.

The skin over your belly becomes thinner. Inside, you can barely see the movement of large objects, shuffling around within you. Your spine has grown its own cage-like carapace which wraps around your ribs and hips. It’s only then you realize the flesh of your back and ass have changed, stretching backward. Your hole has begun to shift downward, dangling just off the ground from your massive belly.

No…not belly…Egg sac.

The hard cage along your spine helps support the ever growing sac. The alpha and smaller xenos dutifully tend to you as you begin to understand your new place. They didn’t have time for a queen to be born and grow..they had to make do. Your belly ripples, the translucent skin shifting and pushing, moving the hundreds..no, thousands of eggs through you. The small xenos have brought back living creatures and restrained them to the walls of the ship and the surrounding trees. Day by day, the skyline gives way to a lattice work of resin construction. They build a sanctuary for you.

The alpha rarely leaves you now, staying always at your side, climbing around you and tending to your every need. He caresses your egg sac, soothing the discomfort of the eggs moving inside you, easing your burden.

You feel your egg sac convulse and cry out. Your voice sounds like their’s now, a shrieking growl that echos in your chambers. The alpha is beside you at once, rubbing his crested head against you. The convulsing contractions travel all the way down your belly, and you feel your hole begin to bulge. Slice and goo pour from you, sending the small xenos scurrying to your hole. You feel the birthing tube of your hole stretch and elongate until it almost touches the ground. The bulge of an egg moves through it, and you groan at the tight pucker you feel before you stretch around it, easing it to the floor.

Another egg soon follows, then another. You find yourself in a haze, trapped in a feeling of pleasurable pain as egg after egg travels through your birth canal to be deposited on the ground.

The smaller xenos collect the eggs and move them, setting them in front of their captives. The creatures writhe and scream, exactly the wrong thing to do. The eggs blossom open, and facehuggers wriggle their way free. They leap and plant themselves over the screaming mouths, muffling them as their ovipositors force deep into their throats.

Some time later, you coo as you watch your children burst from their incubators and wriggle onto the ground. Your children, your second brood. They skitter around you, finding places to shelter their small, soft bodies until they grow. The alpha purrs at you and rubs himself along your belly. You want him to seed you again, and he obliges, thrusting into your hole even as you try to push out more eggs.

Your new life as their queen will be full of pleasure and offspring. You will make a new home of this world, together with him and your children. Your species will thrive. Even as hard plates cover your face, and the soft skin of your cheeks falls away to expose your huge, gleaming teeth, you feel every inch a queen. Your crest soon grows from what was once a rounded skull, just like his did.

Every day you lay more eggs, and every  day your children burst free. This world is yours, your realm, your home, your kingdom.


(by supernona)

Writing Dynamic Relationships

Hey y'all, Abby here with another writing post! Today we’re going to be talking about dynamic relationships.

In my opinion, dynamic relationships are better to write than static ones because they bring an element of change. Dynamic relationships change we learn more about the characters and go through the story, and our characters experience more outside of their regular lives. And, on top of that, the change of a dynamic relationship can show the reader how the characters are dealing with the events of the story. So, here we go.

Plot out the relationship throughout the book. If you’re writing a series, decide how it’s going to start, end, and change throughout.
When you start with one idea that you know is going to be involved and end with a different one, you’re given the freedom to choose how it happens. That’s typically how I do it – I plot out my book first and decide where the start and end points of the relationship are, then I let the plot decide how it happens. Or, you can plan out every detail – as long as you know the general idea of what you want to happen. Whatever works for you, as long as you have an idea of wheee you want it to go.

Understand that relationships have ups and downs.
If you plan to model your relationship after real life, you’ve probably realized that relationships don’t travel in straight lines. People have arguments and good times and awkward phases and internal issues that affect how they interact with others; if you want your characters to come off as human, they need to exhibit these characteristics.

Realize that each relationship will be different and has its own path to follow.
While the state of your character’s other relationships will affect your character’s demeanor and behavior towards others, these are generally temporary. If your character is dynamic, they will need to take time to recover, but eventually they will recover. And your relationships will reflect that. But just because one relationship isn’t doing great doesn’t mean the same goes for the others. Your character’s willingness to contribute to the relationship controls that.

Don’t leave out relationships where your main character is not directly involved in.
Other characters’ relationships will also affect their behavior towards your main character, which is also something that will affect the relationship. It could even bring in a new subplot of your character trying to be nosy and make amends, or just trying to figure out the issues between the other characters. And, with a degree of secrecy and a curiosity-rising plot, you could create a killer plot twist or two.

That’s all I’ve got for today! See you next time with another writing post; until than, much love!

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Forced From Home is back this fall: our West Coast city dates coming soon.

#RefugeesWelcome

Wow, Jyn Erso discourse is really irritating. Like, oh no, a female character who exhibits human flaws like apathy and selfishness? Who has to learn why it’s dangerous to stay apolitical in the face of fascism instead of starting the film as a pure unproblematic cinnamon roll? God fucking forbid we show a hint of grey morality in one of our protagonists, especially a female one. And yeah, I don’t think that’s any fucking coincidence. Do you know which selfish asshole in Star Wars was apolitical before deciding that the rebellion was a cause worth fighting for? Han Solo. I wonder if people were on his ass this much back when “A New Hope” came out?

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OH NOOO, IT’s A DOODLE DUMP

I decided to run through my recent draws and pick out a bunch of sketches and whatnot that I’ve neglected to finish or post. Some of these date back to about half a year ago, but others are fairly recent.

  • Exhibit A: Inglenook design sketches
  • Exhibit B: Fancy Inglenook and a bonus Inglenook Who’s Delighted To See His Friends Not In Prison.
  • Exhibit C: Extra Ethel. The first two are the very first designs/drawings of Ethel, and the third features her molding herself into a more human figure (still drippy, though, can’t fix that).
  • Exhibit D: Another Slime Girl design based on snails. I sort of want a whole clique of thematic slime girls, but I’m also hesitant since I have nothing to use them for yet.
  • Exhibit E: Armored slime folk. Slime armor is often based on kitchenware, or just random scraps of human armor.
  • Exhibit F: Chuck Blockhead, living roadblock and professional nuisance.
  • Exhibit G: Gettin’ Serious Baby Regalia Doll, on shelves for a limited time! (vendors not responsible for strangulation of consumers)
  • Exhibit H: Hooman Regalia??
Humans Are the Galaxy’s Weirdos

I don’t know if this idea has been done before, but my idea of an ‘aliens think humans are weird’ thing.

Aliens understand the basics of human cinema and media, at some levels it’s meant to provide enrichment and entertainment in different measures.

Instructors show those under their tutelage video productions meant to enrich and educate them in a way that engages them. Perhaps it brings in knowledge that the teachers themselves may be unable to articulate properly, as it would need an expert in a subject they themselves are not well versed in. This is understandable.

There are some humans whose whole careers revolve around producing video content meant to entertain and elicit enjoyment from other humans. This is also understandable. It is meant to produce laughter and smiles, which in turn helps humans release positive hormones which affect their mood and chemical constitution in beneficial ways.

However, there are some pieces which they are unable to understand why humans would wish to produce and consume such pieces of media for any purpose. No matter how hard they try.

Fleet Admiral Smirnov and her mate derive enjoyment from curling up together in the main recreation center and watching films depicting two humans engaging in courtship before forming a romantic bond. They have been together for over ten bi-lunar cycles, they are in no need of instruction of how to form such bonds. And they claim they know how to work through difficulties in their relationship. So it is unlikely they use it as a manual for resolving conflicts.

A few members of the non-human crew are slightly unnerved that the humans seem to have media revolving around other humans being injured, mutilated, or even killed in ways of escalating gruesomeness and - quite frankly - medical improbability. To a variety of responses. While those such as Medical Officers Gonzalez and Jones simply appear bored and comment snidely on the medical inaccuracies, others such as Terminal Technician DiAngelo and Warp Engineer Balewa look vaguely unnerved and sick and tend to avoid the room when such things are in play. While still others like Flora and Fauna Study Scientists Aberman and Sabola actually laugh at these productions. None of their fellow humans seem to find this odd or unnerving, and none of your non-human crew’s observations deem either of them to exhibit traits which one might associate with a desire to see their fellow human crew members harmed for amusement. (Outside the normal human parameters of taking amusement in the superficial misfortunes of others, of course).

Variety is usually the case here, unless the media in question exhibits humans mostly getting knocked around and getting up from injuries which should have much harsher effects as if hey were nothing. In such a case, all of the humans watching will normally be laughing.

There are media examples which seem to revolve around humans going through supernatural experiences involving the deceased or other monsters of their legends or imaginations. They are asked time and time again why they would watch something which makes their heart race so, or which makes them afraid of going anywhere in the ship’s halls alone in the dark for a while after. They answer that they enjoy being frightened by these things for fun. All others are perplexed.

Or even the films which seem solely intent on causing the audience to release liquid from their eyes. Usually by unfortunate events occurring, or the deaths of one or more of the characters in a dramatic and unfortunate fashion. While some are immune to these types of films, more than one new non-human medical recruit has been left baffled when, after attempting to assist a human exhibiting what is meant to be a textbook sign of pain, are told that they are fine and have no injuries that need treating. Perhaps it makes sense as a way for humans to release emotions for therapeutic reasons? But honestly, most of the rest of the crew agree that it’s just. Humans.

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Final weekend! It’s your last chance to see the full two-floor exhibition Human Interest: Portraits from the Whitney’s Collection, which mines the Museum’s holdings to offer new perspectives on one of art’s oldest genres. See works by Glenn Ligon, Alice Neel, and Andy Warhol, among others. Floor 7 will remain on view through April 2. 

Literally no one in the cast of Voltron is neurotypical.  It got long fast, so check under the read more.  Btw, I adore the idea that Coran and Allura exhibit human-like symptoms for neurodivergence, but that this is normal for Alteans and they have adaptive technologies to help the paladins!

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