spaceshipoftheseus:
“coalmine301:
“blueshelledbastard:
“whetstonefires:
“moonymango:
“ twirlfriend:
“ thestraggletag:
“ gleefully-macabre:
“ gleefully-macabre:
“ brawltogethernow:
“ gingerhastoomanyobsessions:
“I can’t breathe
”
Best wishes to these...

spaceshipoftheseus:

coalmine301:

blueshelledbastard:

whetstonefires:

moonymango:

twirlfriend:

thestraggletag:

gleefully-macabre:

gleefully-macabre:

brawltogethernow:

gingerhastoomanyobsessions:

I can’t breathe

Best wishes to these people obviously but I’m WHEEZING at the concept of a standard horror plot starter but the stranded travelers are an entire fully equipped orchestra.

It’s the prequel to every other horror film. Their haunting spirits play the background music.

Oh shoot, that actually would be a really cool concept. The film starts with no thematic music, and as each member of the orchestra is picked off, their instrument joins the soundtrack. Subtly, so you don’t really notice, and the end credits are a full orchestral symphony.

DUUUUUDE

Call that a death note

That entire thing could also be used brilliantly for foreshadowing!

Like, you suddenly notice a string instrument in the background music and you haven’t seen a few of them in a while. And the more musically versed you are, the more you figure it out (like in a mystery novel if you happen to have in-depth knowledge about the current riddle) while the “normal” people can get fooled into twists.

The non-musically versed audience hears a new brass instrument and is like “Oh shit, the dude with the tenor horn is probably dead!”, but then he suddenly appears perfectly fine and one minute later they find the body of the Euphonium player.

And if the orchestra members can hear it as well, then it’s of course another layer cause THEY would probably recognize who is playing. And depending on the director, they could go full ‘Tomato in the Mirror’ and imply they know but Just. Not. Say it. (cause why should they, they all DO KNOW). So they are like “Oh no…. No…!” and start looking for the corpse while the audience is still stuck at “Ok, a violin player, but which???”

immediately after dying you get a brief solo

And since absolutely no music at the beginning would be kinda estranging, I’d suggest one singular instrument and it’s revealed early on that a member of the orchestra recently passed, leading into the reason why they visited the castle in the first place, yaddayaddayadda, the plot commences

The first guy who died played the triangle

It is absolutely essential to me that the orchestra remains Bolivian.

(via writers-dilemma)

marzipanandminutiae:

161afa1312acab:

image

THIS

that ahistorical bullshit about “public schools existing to churn out perfect workers?” is in fact ahistorical bullshit

public schools were HARD-WON by people who didn’t want working-class children to be railroaded into the same hardships their parents had known via lack of education (and therefore lack of opportunities for higher-paying jobs)

yes they have their issues. but they are absolutely NOT designed to be tools of capitalism

(via back-on-my-bullsh-again)

luciferhimshelf:

deaduncledave:

gallusrostromegalus:

A Haiku:

📲 💡

🖼️ 🆔 📖 🗣️

🖥️ 📜

[Image Description: Three lines of Emoji, that can be read as:

Icon Idea
Image ID Read Aloud
Online Poetr
y

End Image Description]

Reminds me of an old internet poem:

< > ! * ’ ’ #

^ “ ` $ $ -

! * = @ $ _

% * < > ~ # 4

& [ ] . . /

| { , , SYSTEM HALTED

The poem can only be appreciated by reading it aloud, as such:

Waka waka bang splat tick tick hash,

Caret quote back-tick dollar dollar dash,

Bang splat equal at dollar under-score,

Percent splat waka waka tilde number four,

Ampersand bracket bracket dot dot slash,

Vertical-bar curly-bracket comma comma CRASH

OH I GOT ONE AS WELL

Behold, the math limerick:

((12+144+20+3*sqrt[4])/7)+5*11=9²+0

A dozen, a gross, and a score,

plus three times the square root of four,

divided by seven,

plus five times eleven

is nine squared and not a bit more

(via gallusrostromegalus)

seyumei:

seyumei:

How I simultaneously avoid and indulge in dumb internet drama.

I dont understand like 90% of the fandom acronyms people are using in the tags, but I’m glad it seems like many people from different walks of life can relate to this. I feel like we’re kindred spirits in a way.

(via gallusrostromegalus)

sadmac356:

pineappapizza:

teaboot:

teaboot:

gynandromorph:

the annoying thing about adhd is that like, most of the symptoms you can’t even argue are “evolutionary flaws” or “chemical imbalances.” literally it’s just that it’s not good for lining somebody else’s pockets. being “distractible” helps people notice predators or juicy berries out of the corners of their eyes. hyperfocusing on a task until it’s done is literally exactly in line with what an alleged persistence predator would need to do to actually follow through on hunting other animals. there’s so many little things that are obviously beneficial to have outside of a fucking factory assembly line

NEUROLOGICAL DIVERSITY IS AS IMPORTANT TO SURVIVAL AS GENETIC DIVERITY, and OUR CONCEPT OF DISABILITY AND NEURODIVERGENCE IS BUILT ON A FOUNDATION OF OUR OWN MAKING

When I lived out in the woods and spent my time herding sheep and hunting bullfrogs, nobody gave two shits that I walked around barefoot and said whatever popped into my head out loud.

My hyperfocus and poor sense of time made me a hard worker, my compulsion to sort and organize random crap kept the property clean, and my special interest in native flora and fauna meant I could go out into the woods thanksgiving morning and come home with all the pricy mushrooms and herbs we couldn’t normally afford otherwise.

Who cared that I was awkward? There was nobody around except the occasional customer or temp worker, and those kinds of interactions could be entirely scripted.

Who cared that I dressed funny, had frizzy, dry hair, talked flat, and ate raw onions? Who gave two shits that I built forts out of scrap metal and twine? How did it matter that I passed time running in circles over old truck chassis’?

There were no bright lights, no packed-in crowds, no huge collections of shouty, screamy, smelly people. Nobody stared at me for more than a few seconds. Nobody critiqued my body language.

I was a bit odd, yeah, but all I knew was that I was smart and creative and better than other people at fixing problems.

I went damn near fifteen years out there not even suspecting I might be autistic. Nobody even thought to bring it up.

Now I’m in the city, and I have a hard time going into the middle of a store. I hate the mall. My eyes hurt. Ambulances and fire trucks and cars with bad brakes go by and I cover my ears and nobody else does. I’ve been told I come off as “quirky”.

My question is, though, if an atypical person is in an environment that suits them, can anyone tell?

Most folks only know who’s blind when the lights are on. If the sky went dark tomorrow, we’d have no idea.

this is what rick riordan was on about

battle reflexes!

(via back-on-my-bullsh-again)

pepperf:

c-l-y-d-e:

meshugenist:

vague-humanoid:

https://t.co/zO681ePk7B pic.twitter.com/ZLGx8SjMhj  — Dr Tom Bowers (@fancywookiee) May 2, 2023ALT
image

The aritcle:

From what I understand from the article, it’s even rougher than normal content moderation: a lot of these workers were hired to train AIs like ChatGPT away from, well, all the worst that the web could provide, to detoxify it for the end users. They are specifically given the worst stuff that can be dredged up from the depths of the internet, and asked to label it - so that the AI can use that data to identify hatespeech, suicide ideation, racism, CSA, etc etc.

It’s an awful job, and some are paid less than $2 an hour. Workers have PTSD. Are they being offered counselling, support, compensation? Fuck no, they get punished for speaking up.

Good luck to the African Content Moderators Union, I hope they get the protections and compensation that their workers need.

(via back-on-my-bullsh-again)

riazendira:

sarahsupastar:

riazendira:

libertarirynn:

image

Here’s an oldie but a goodie: (please note, for best recommended results, try at liberal arts institutions known for being fans of theater)

As seniors, my friends and I greeted freshmen students (no one asked us to). One of us held a clip board and pen. One held a tailor’s measuring tape. And one had a sharpie and a small stack of “Hello my name is _______” name tags. Here’s how the prank goes.

1) Cheerfully greet each student as if you’re an official greeting team of some sort. Clip board holder says “Friend, let’s get you a name tag”

2) Measuring tape holder proceeds forward, holding out tape-measures something random about the person (something where you don’t actually need to be up close and personal, like the length of their shin from 2 feet away, or I suppose you could try asking “please may I measure your wrist” or some such). Measuring person calls out a number. Possibly two.

3) Clip board person studiously records the number on a chart. Nods gravely/excitedly/smoothly/suspiciously/enthusiastically/whatever at Name tag person.

4) Name tag person writes down something utterly totally random in the tag blank. Like “peanut butter” or “ aerodynamic jellyfish”. With great ceremony, tag person hands tag to new student. All prankers bow, or offer waves, while saying “Pleased to meet you (name tag name), welcome to college! We hope you have a great year!” And walk away in whatever style suits you best.


Done correctly, this can happen so fast and flawlessly that parents, new students and onlookers will all be awed and confused by the time you’re out of earshot and if they see you later, will simply go “hey, it’s the welcoming committee!” and laugh. And it’s so much fun.

I’m obsessed with the idea of doing this but ONE person just gets named Steve.

If their actual name is literally anything other than Steve, it’ll still be funny and everyone will wonder why this one person got a regular name on their nametag while everyone else is labeled as Jubilation or Injket-1098 or whatever.

If their actual name is really Steve, they will spend the rest of their life wondering how the hell you knew that by measuring the length of their pinkie.

You. You get it. Carry on.

(via writers-dilemma)

t4tails:

some blogs i follow for fan content but others i am 100% just there for the person so when theyre like oh sorry for turning into a so-and-so blog im like. i would watch you liveblog the phonebook.

(via gallusrostromegalus)


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