I met you in the dark, you lit me up You made me feel as though I was enough We danced the night away, we drank too much I held your hair back when You were throwing up Then you smiled over your shoulder For a minute, I was stone-cold sober I pulled you closer to my chest
Why do so many resources say that mammals are the dominate animals? Is there anyway bird superiority more prominent ?
This phrase is fairly difficult to define because, realistically, the dominant phylum is, and has been basically forever, the arthropods. With estimates of 1 to 10 million species and population numbers that are just staggering to think about, quantitatively they are the winners by several thousand landslides made up of primarily beetles.
But I digress. When we say the Cenozoic is the “Age of Mammals” or the Devonian is the “Age of Fishes”, it’s used more in terms of which clades exploded after the previous mass extinction (or, in earlier periods, diversified with massive geologic or climatic shifts) and took over a majority of the available ecological niches during that era/period/etc.
For example, after the Late Permian decided it preferred the Earth empty and told everyone to get rekt, the way was paved for the ancestors of dinosaurs to diversify and take over - hence the Mesozoic being known as the “Age of the Reptiles”. The same thing then happened with the K-Pg extinction event (with the exception being that the Cretaceous was generally less dramatic about the whole affair), opening up those niches for the mammals to expand into and diversify through the Cenozoic.
To go off track for a hot second, it’s a very interesting cycle of extinction-diversification that happens repeatedly. The species that are most susceptible to extinction are those that are too specialized to adapt to change (looking directly at you,
Ailuropoda melanoleuca). Conversely, those that are most able to survive and then take advantage of a sudden availability of niches following an extinction event are those that are generalists (in terms of range, habitat, feeding, and the like). Various populations of these generalists will then adapt into new species as they diverge from other populations in different niches, which eventually leads to each having a very specialized lifestyle as they evolve to further take advantage of the niche. This then puts them firmly in the category of “too specialized to adapt to change” and they are now susceptible to the next major shift. SUPER COOL, RIGHT???
Anyway, to get back on track, claiming any one class/phylum/order/species (Anthropocene, anyone?) of species is “dominant” during a period of geologic time is reductive, biased, and does paleontology as a whole a disservice. There are so many interesting clades that are left out when people assume the whole world at the time was populated by one small set of species (where are my extinct Ordovician hexacorallian fans at, amirite). We could just as easily call the Mesozoic the Age of Ammonites, or the Age of Conifers, and be just as accurate.
You have watched and listened all Louis' interviews (and thank you for this. I couldn't stomach them). Would you agree that he talks about music a plenty and the fans are making a mountain out of a molehill or not? I've seen people saying that we are whining too much and him talking about his private life is actually only a very small part.
I’ve listened to all the interviews in their entirety and in some of them, they do talk about music quite a bit, while in others, they barely talk about music at all. My main issue with the personal life stuff is twofold - 1) I’ve never in my life seen a non-famous significant other talked about in interviews and promoted the way that Eleanor is, and that’s made even more ridiculous by the fact that we’re still meant to believe that Eleanor is so “private” (and you can’t compare Louis talking about Eleanor to Liam talking about Cheryl, sorry - there is a level of interest with a couple where both people are celebrities that doesn’t exist otherwise, but Eleanor is NOT a celebrity), and 2) The personal life responses from Louis are consistently emphasized by both the media and his team as The Most Important Thing entirely AT THE EXPENSE of his music. Plenty of celebs talk about their personal lives (fake or real) for the sake of headlines, but their teams ensure that at the end of the day, their music is receiving a boost and a spotlight from the attention gained by those personal life mentions, and Louis’ team……..isn’t at all. I’m not really in the mood to debate this and I disagree with a few things I’ve seen on my dash, but yeah, I think it’s less about the fact that there are personal life questions and more about the fact that they are being emphasized without getting promo for Louis’ music again and again.
Also, I think people should remember that Louis talking about his non-celebrity girlfriend and giving vague boring responses about his child over and over and over again likely isn’t building him a new audience because…..nobody cares. This isn’t Selena Gomez talking about Justin Bieber or Chrissy Tiegen and John Legend talking about their baby, I’m sorry. And his answers are not interesting or even funny 99 percent of the time. The general public doesn’t give a fuck, and if they’re not even using these personal life answers to get him attention that can ultimately grow his audience and attract people to his song, and if fans are consistently BEGGING to hear more music or fun answers that aren’t related to his baby and girlfriend, then I think you have to wonder what they’re doing. Anyways, that’s my opinion on it. If people disagree, that’s totally fine.
“Back off, Ren! I’m TRYING to make my daily ANNOUNCEMENTS!!!”
Kylo interrupts the General during one of Hux’s daily intercom announcements to the crew of the Finalizer.
//i’m obsessed with Hux’s daily announcements (x) hux says that only people who are acting “suspiciously” should be detained… and the stormtroopers detain him! Why was he being so suspicious ? maybe a little kylux action on the bridge? #LET HUX LIVE 2017!
man I sure do wonder how Chloé, a girl without a mother who was raised by a powerful and influential and wealthy father only to be shown love and affection through material means which ultimately led to clear social akwardness and obvious issues in forming interpersonal relationships with her peers, would be treated if she was a boy
Another thing (because yes we’re just going to go back to talking about the Cursed Child AU like we never left) that annoyed me about The Cursed Child was how the Adults treated Scorpius Malfoy in the text.
Like I get it, nobody is perfect and everyone has issues, especially when you take into account the things the original trio endured. But, and this is a large but I cannot lie, I also feel it’s entirely out of character for Harry Potter, the boy who survived twice and lived to become the man who would name his second son after two of his arguably worst abusers* (after Voldie and the Dursleys of course) in recognition of their bravery and…whatever…redemptionI guess, to only then turn around to his son, point to another child and say “they come from an evil family, don’t be friends with him”.
It just…it doesn’t feel right.**
Just like how Ron pitting his daughter against the Malfoy off-spring doesn’t feel right either. “Here sweetheart, we fought this entire war based on opposing those who thought they were better than others because of how they were born, and we made the world a better, more fair place. Now go kick that other kid’s ass his dad was a dick. Also don’t come home if you get sorted into Slytherin, bye honey loooove yoooou!”
Like….that is just not Ronald Weasley to me. It’s maybe Ron at the start of the series when we see him coming from a place of…not monetary privileged to be sure, but definitely perhaps cultural in terms of his bloodline? Like they might be dirt poor but the Weasley’s are a pure-blood family and that matters in this world.
But it’s not who Ron is at the end of the series.
It’s not who any of them are at the end of the series. Yet somehow we just see the continuation of “all adults are awful, yes even the good ones” and it just…it’s mediocre writing for one thing, but it’s also a continuation of validating shitty adult human behavior for Reasons, which Rowling is infamous for, and maybe it’s just me. But I’m tired of that shit.
I’m so, gods damned tired. Both as a reader, an editor and a writer.
Which is why I’d like you to consider: Cursed Child AU Molly Weasley meeting Scorpius Malfoy for the first time.
In my head, for whatever reason, the new trio are soaked, just, drenched to the bone and guilty as hell, and Rose isn’t too worried by her grandmother’s stern look, she knows the shouting and the hand waving is from concern and not a threat. And Albus too, who has gotten into his own fair share of trouble with his brother and cousins and been on the receiving end of his Grandma’s tongue lashing more than once has just sort of, switched off, eyes glazed over as he takes the reprimand as he takes all others.
But Scorpius has no reference for this. His own mother and father have never disciplined him, not really, they’ve never had cause to. But he’s seen the fights between his father and grandfather, and people have walked away from those burned. He’s felt this anger before, this shrill frustration, but it’s never been directed at him before and honestly he’s not sure if he’s about to vomit or cry—until suddenly it stops. And when he looks up, Mrs. Weasley is looking at him, just for a second she’s looking just at him. And then she sighs, wiping a weary hand over her face as she waves them towards the stairs.
“Go to bed, all of you. Albus, show your friend where everything is. We’ll deal with this in the morning.”
So they climb the stairs and say good night, and Albus lets Scorpius borrow some old but clean clothes from a chest at the end of a bed that looks like it hasn’t been slept in for years but is still kept pristine. And he feels like an intruder in this cramped wonderful space that feels lived in and loved from the ceiling to the floor.But Albus is already falling asleep face down on the other bed so he can’t ask if this is okay and instead just peels back the covers and falls asleep thinking if a house could feel like a hot cup of tea on a rainy Autumn day then the Burrow would be mid-October with two sugars and a ginger snap on the side.
The next morning he awakens to find his own clothes not just dried but cleaned and mended, folded at the end of the bed. Not wanting to wake Albus (snoring gently on his back, dark hair sticking out at all ends in a nice way that makes Scorpius’ stomach do a funny swooping thing he’s not ready to think about just yet) Scorpius creeps out of bed in search of the privy, somehow managing to get turned around in this tiny house that’s smaller than his grandfather’s study and finds himself on the threshold of the kitchen again, where a fire is already lit and something bubbles gently on the stove. He doesn’t mean to stare, but there’s just so much stuff, brick-a-brack and clutter his mother would never allow, mementos, moving pictures on every wall, the clock gently ticking on the wall…
“Cup of tea, dear?”
He jumps, feeling like he’s been caught somewhere he shouldn’t be.
“Come along dear, sit down,” Mrs Weasley continues, placing gentle hands on his shoulders and guiding him towards the kitchen table where the table is already set. “One lump or two?”
“I…” Scorpius stutters, looking around, desperately hoping for one of the other two to appear, even Rose who he knows only tolerates him because of Albus. “Two?” he asks. “Please?”
“There you are dear, help yourself to milk. Sleep all right?”
“I…uh, yes, thank you?”
“Good, good. Toast?”
“There you go. Help yourself to butter and jam.”
He’s halfway through a second slice when Albus appears in the doorway, still in the rumpled clothes he’d slept in and yawning loudly until Rose pushes him out of the way and sits down heavily in the empty chair next to
Scorpius, glaring, as though daring him to say something about her frazzled hair and the pillow markings on her sleep-pinked face. Scorpius wisely takes another bite of toast and pushes the teapot towards her. Albus stumbles over next, still so half asleep her nearly face plants into the jam the moment he’s sitting. It’s only the joint efforts of Rosie and Scorpius that keeps it from happening.
“What time is it?” he asks, rubbing blearily at his eyes.
Scorpius glances to the clock—not the family one of course, though he can’t help but feel a little envious at just how many spoons it has. His parents have one, but it only has three hands.
“Time you were up and about,” Mrs Weasley comments before Scorpius can answer, swooping in over the table with a platter laden with breakfast food and dishing it out in heaps like she’s used to feeding an army. Glancing again at the family clock, Scorpius can see why. “And time to tell me what in Merlin’s Beard is going on.”
The trio glance between themselves, suddenly far more awake than they were mere moments before. With a mouthful of tea, Scorpius makes a hard swallow and braces himself.
“I’m really sorry, but this is entirely all my fault.” He starts when Mrs Weasley laughs, eyeing her two grandchildren with a knowing look.
“Somehow I find that hard to believe, dearie. Here have some more bacon.”
Somewhere between second, third and quite very nearly fourth helpings (Scorpius has never eaten so much in his life, not even at the Hogwarts feasts) they tell the truth. Or rather, they omit certain details and confess they found the car in the woods while having detention and wanted to see if it would work. How were they to know the doors would slam shut and the car would take them home. Molly Weasley listens quietly, with none of the previous shouting of yesterday, even when they recount the part about the doors falling off. Scorpius is relieved. He doesn’t think he could handle it, and he has no desire to see all that good food come up in reverse.
“Well, I can’t say I’m pleased.” she says when they’re done, fixing them all with a pointed look. “But I am glad you are safe. Now, why don’t you go get ready and head on outside. The gnomes are in the herb patch again, and I need to contact the school and let them know you’re safe.“
The other two groan and slide out of their chairs to stomp up the stairs. Scorpius also stands and thinks about following them, but he’s already dressed so doesn’t see the point, he’ll just wait here by the door and go outside when they’re ready…he’s oddly excited by the prospect of de-gnoming the garden. He’s never done anything like it before…
“Everything all right, dear?” Mrs Weasley asks him, voice light as she clears away the breakfast table with a flick of her hand. “With school?”
He’s puzzled by the question, but he nods. “Yes, thank you Mrs Weasley.”
She hums politely, drawing her wand again and pulling over a scroll of parchment and a quill from a nearby table. “And what about home, everything all right there?”
The nausea is instant and for one horrible moment he thinks he might actually be sick. His mouth is watering, his head feels hot, his hands are cold and his eyes are blurring as he tries to quell the terror such a question brings because how, how can he answer a question like that while knowing the truth of what is yet to come...
He doesn’t even realize he’s sobbing until warm arms surround him. He’s been hugged before, but never like this. Everyone in his family is rail-thin and formally stiff. Physical affection often feels like an obligation to be endured, not warm and enveloping like sunlight through a glass pane on a cold winter morning.
“There now dear,” she soothes, patting his back and holding him close like one of her own—a Potter or a Weasley, not a Malfoy. He doubts a Malfoy has ever been held this way. “I’m so sorry Scorpius. It’s not easy grieving…but you’ll be all right…it’ll be all right…shhh”
Later in the garden no one says anything. He knows they know, he can still feel the evidence of it streaked down his face, sniffling loudly in a way that has nothing to do with the chill Autumn air as they run after the scurrying gnomes. Instead they are stoically silent. But it’s a united sort of silence. Even Rosie looks grimly determined as she nods to him, just once, an unspoken version of the promise Albus had uttered in the small hours of the Slytherin Dungeon.
They have a curse to break. And it’s bloody well going to get broken.
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