long posts

~ Brin ~ 1 Comment

{{previous post in sequence}}

tilthat:

TIL the average worker in the US today would only have to work 11 hours per week to be as productive as his fellow worker in 1950.

via reddit.com

 

nultemp:

hey fuck capitalism

 

reguess1997:

@argumate relevant to our discussion

 

argumate:

I mean we could go back to 1950 levels of production, if we wanted to live like that?

 

reguess1997:

That doesn’t seem that bad, though. Maybe we don’t have to scale back that far – maybe just have 20-hour weeks. Or better yet, just let the workers decide how much they need to work.

 

argumate:

I mean, they can? who needs expensive health insurance if you’re only going to get 1950s level of care anyway; forget iPhones, plenty of people were using kerosene lamps instead of electricity back then.

 

disexplications:

Obvious problems include:

  • Network effects; you can’t be a full participant in society these days without a cell phone and some sort of Internet access
  • People who work more will bid up the price of positional goods, most importantly land
  • In some cases the old goods are no longer available. A 1950 Chevrolet Deluxe would be dirt cheap today if Chevrolet made them, but they don’t make them and it would be illegal to sell them if they did.
  • Lump of labor fallacy? It seems like there’s some debate as to how much this matters and in which cases.

 

argumate:

cars won’t kill you as easily now, but it takes a lot of work to get a society where air bags and stability control and laser welding are standard features.

 

1nsomnizac:

several things:

  1. why would producing less cause us to regress to the 1950s? what the fuck? show me the carfax.

  2. the thing to take away from this factoid is that the amount of time that a worker has to spend to survive has stayed more or less the same, even as the amount that people produce in that time has increased.

     

  3. in a capitalist business, the capitalists innovate to pay fewer wages to get X products. in a worker co-op, workers innovate to spend less labor hours to get X products. in a capitalist system, innovation increases products relative to worker pay, in a co op system, innovation increases products relative to workers hours

 

argumate:

the point was that if workers today are much more productive than workers in the 1950s due to technological and other improvements, they could work shorter hours and produce the same level of output (that we used to produce in the 1950s).

there’s a bit of question begging going on here though, how did productivity get so high since then anyway, and would it have improved similarly if everyone was working 11 hours a week.

then think about where we’ll be in 2050…

 

squareallworthy:

how did productivity get so high since then anyway

You know how communists are always saying that everything will be great after the revolution because the machines will do most of the work?

Yeah, we already did that. 

We had already done that by 1850, and then we built more machines to do most of the remaining work by 1900, then built more machines to do most of the remaining work by 1950, and so on. That’s what improving productivity is. Well, that and education.

So sure, we could all be working 11 hours a week, if we wanted to get by on a 1950s standard of living. Some do, and maybe more people would if they had heard of the idea, but most people want more than that.

would it have improved similarly if everyone was working 11 hours a week

No, because if we had only been working 11 hours a week, we couldn’t have built so many machines and educated so many people.

 

morlock-holmes:

1) We have iPhones now

2) We work as hard or harder than similarly situated people in the 1950s (no need to describe what we might mean by “similarly situated”)

3) Therefore, all that extra work must go directly into, and be completely necessary for, produce iPhones.

This is a remarkably rickety chain of logic to come from otherwise intelligent people.

“You could work 11 hours a week if you were satisfied with 1950s living!”

You guys know a lot of people who make rent on 44 hours of work per month, do you? And they get doctors who make house calls too???

Honestly it sounds like a great deal, surprised more people don’t do it!

 

squareallworthy:

Well, fair point. You’re going to have a hard time finding 1950-style housing in the United States today. Not only would you have to give up a lot of square footage and things like air conditioning and decent wiring, but you’d also have to find somewhere without modern supermarkets and hospitals. Even if you chose not to buy food that wasn’t available in 1950, even if you forego medical treatments that didn’t exist then, just having the choice to do so is part of the value of housing. So to find someplace comparable, you’d have to move someplace where things like cable TV, internet service, UPS deliveries, CAT scans, and Thai restaurants aren’t even available. That’s going to be difficult to do unless you can organize a whole community to do it, because these sorts of options permeate the country and form a part of our wealth.

 

theopjones:

The fair comparison probably isn’t 1:1 with 1950s U.S because of technology improvements. 

A more apt comparison would be 21st century countries with similar per capita rGDP as 1950s U.S.

But still having the same standard of living as the typical South African probably isn’t much more aspirational.   

 

brin-bellway:

As someone who, a few months ago, calculated how much money it takes to run her household for a week where nothing goes wrong and found it to be *almost exactly* 11 minimum-wage-hours per person, I feel obligated to speak up.

Yes, I have a lot of luck and financially-convenient preferences going for me [link] (not to mention the government assistance, though I’ve known plenty of people who found living on full-time or near-full-time work a struggle even with government assistance; also, these hour figures *don’t* factor in tax benefits), and I absolutely acknowledge that many people are not in positions where they can pull this off. And 11 hours/week is merely the figure for a week *where nothing goes wrong*: I’d need about 16.5 hours† for a week where the average amount of stuff goes wrong, and preferably more like ~20 to get a bit of buffer going. (and more buffer would be nice, of course)

But I *do* exist, so it’s probably a bad idea to base any arguments on the premise that that’s impossible, or impossible without enduring a lot more in the way of acute hardship than I do.

—

(For me, the main problem is not expenses but *underemployment*: being able to live on 16.5 hours isn’t good enough if you can only get hold of 10.)

—

†I know the linked post says 17, but that was back when we had a dog.

 

theopjones:

Imho I don’t think that is too good a model.

Namely, the budget in your link uses a lot on things like subsidies and cross border arbatrage (ie. buying food in New York, and driving to Canada).

These things work out for individuals, but do not work on the scale of large chunks of society.

Under conditions where things are bought at market rate cost, that would not work.

11-20 hrs on the average wage is probably realistic (I currently spend a little over about ½ of income, and I earn close to the us median household income) But not on the min wage.

Let’s see:

Electricity subsidy: 0.23 hours/person/week

Medication subsidy: I don’t have the exact figures on hand, but judging from the way overall medication expenses dropped when we got into the program, maybe 0.3 hours/person/week

Cross-border arbitrage: an optimistic estimate gives 0.8 hours/person/week, it’s probably much less

Tax ineligibility (has health insurance as sub-component): I’m not sure what the appropriate measure would be here. A bit of googling suggests the income tax burden on a household making the median income is slightly under 24 minimum-wage-hours/*household*/week, but I’m not sure how to apply this information properly, and this might not even be the right approach for the question.

—

Anyway, and more importantly, I already said I don’t expect it to scale. (I’m actually surprised that the things you latched onto are the subsidies and arbitrage rather than the lack of children, something I expect has a much larger effect and *also* doesn’t work at all if you try to apply it across a large chunk of society.) I’m mostly reacting here to the idea that *nobody* could pull it off, that it’s laughable to think that anyone could get close. (”You guys know a lot of people who make rent on 44 hours of work per month, do you? And they get doctors who make house calls too???” I think there were others in other branches, but I’m not sure where.)

(Well, let’s be real, I’m *mostly* reacting to the many, many other arguments I’ve encountered over the years that rely on an assumption that People Like Me do not exist, for a variety of aspects of Like Me. I am very tired of this sort of thing.)

Tags:

#reply via reblog #adventures in human capitalism #discourse cw #long post

~ Brin ~ 1 Comment

tilthat:

TIL the average worker in the US today would only have to work 11 hours per week to be as productive as his fellow worker in 1950.

via reddit.com

 

nultemp:

hey fuck capitalism

 

reguess1997:

@argumate relevant to our discussion

 

argumate:

I mean we could go back to 1950 levels of production, if we wanted to live like that?

 

reguess1997:

That doesn’t seem that bad, though. Maybe we don’t have to scale back that far – maybe just have 20-hour weeks. Or better yet, just let the workers decide how much they need to work.

 

argumate:

I mean, they can? who needs expensive health insurance if you’re only going to get 1950s level of care anyway; forget iPhones, plenty of people were using kerosene lamps instead of electricity back then.

 

disexplications:

Obvious problems include:

  • Network effects; you can’t be a full participant in society these days without a cell phone and some sort of Internet access
  • People who work more will bid up the price of positional goods, most importantly land
  • In some cases the old goods are no longer available. A 1950 Chevrolet Deluxe would be dirt cheap today if Chevrolet made them, but they don’t make them and it would be illegal to sell them if they did.
  • Lump of labor fallacy? It seems like there’s some debate as to how much this matters and in which cases.

 

argumate:

cars won’t kill you as easily now, but it takes a lot of work to get a society where air bags and stability control and laser welding are standard features.

 

1nsomnizac:

several things:

  1. why would producing less cause us to regress to the 1950s? what the fuck? show me the carfax.

  2. the thing to take away from this factoid is that the amount of time that a worker has to spend to survive has stayed more or less the same, even as the amount that people produce in that time has increased.

     

  3. in a capitalist business, the capitalists innovate to pay fewer wages to get X products. in a worker co-op, workers innovate to spend less labor hours to get X products. in a capitalist system, innovation increases products relative to worker pay, in a co op system, innovation increases products relative to workers hours

 

argumate:

the point was that if workers today are much more productive than workers in the 1950s due to technological and other improvements, they could work shorter hours and produce the same level of output (that we used to produce in the 1950s).

there’s a bit of question begging going on here though, how did productivity get so high since then anyway, and would it have improved similarly if everyone was working 11 hours a week.

then think about where we’ll be in 2050…

 

squareallworthy:

how did productivity get so high since then anyway

You know how communists are always saying that everything will be great after the revolution because the machines will do most of the work?

Yeah, we already did that. 

We had already done that by 1850, and then we built more machines to do most of the remaining work by 1900, then built more machines to do most of the remaining work by 1950, and so on. That’s what improving productivity is. Well, that and education.

So sure, we could all be working 11 hours a week, if we wanted to get by on a 1950s standard of living. Some do, and maybe more people would if they had heard of the idea, but most people want more than that.

would it have improved similarly if everyone was working 11 hours a week

No, because if we had only been working 11 hours a week, we couldn’t have built so many machines and educated so many people.

 

morlock-holmes:

1) We have iPhones now

2) We work as hard or harder than similarly situated people in the 1950s (no need to describe what we might mean by “similarly situated”)

3) Therefore, all that extra work must go directly into, and be completely necessary for, produce iPhones.

This is a remarkably rickety chain of logic to come from otherwise intelligent people.

“You could work 11 hours a week if you were satisfied with 1950s living!”

You guys know a lot of people who make rent on 44 hours of work per month, do you? And they get doctors who make house calls too???

Honestly it sounds like a great deal, surprised more people don’t do it!

 

squareallworthy:

Well, fair point. You’re going to have a hard time finding 1950-style housing in the United States today. Not only would you have to give up a lot of square footage and things like air conditioning and decent wiring, but you’d also have to find somewhere without modern supermarkets and hospitals. Even if you chose not to buy food that wasn’t available in 1950, even if you forego medical treatments that didn’t exist then, just having the choice to do so is part of the value of housing. So to find someplace comparable, you’d have to move someplace where things like cable TV, internet service, UPS deliveries, CAT scans, and Thai restaurants aren’t even available. That’s going to be difficult to do unless you can organize a whole community to do it, because these sorts of options permeate the country and form a part of our wealth.

 

theopjones:

The fair comparison probably isn’t 1:1 with 1950s U.S because of technology improvements. 

A more apt comparison would be 21st century countries with similar per capita rGDP as 1950s U.S.

But still having the same standard of living as the typical South African probably isn’t much more aspirational.   

As someone who, a few months ago, calculated how much money it takes to run her household for a week where nothing goes wrong and found it to be *almost exactly* 11 minimum-wage-hours per person, I feel obligated to speak up.

Yes, I have a lot of luck and financially-convenient preferences going for me [link] (not to mention the government assistance, though I’ve known plenty of people who found living on full-time or near-full-time work a struggle even with government assistance; also, these hour figures *don’t* factor in tax benefits), and I absolutely acknowledge that many people are not in positions where they can pull this off. And 11 hours/week is merely the figure for a week *where nothing goes wrong*: I’d need about 16.5 hours† for a week where the average amount of stuff goes wrong, and preferably more like ~20 to get a bit of buffer going. (and more buffer would be nice, of course)

But I *do* exist, so it’s probably a bad idea to base any arguments on the premise that that’s impossible, or impossible without enduring a lot more in the way of acute hardship than I do.

—

(For me, the main problem is not expenses but *underemployment*: being able to live on 16.5 hours isn’t good enough if you can only get hold of 10.)

—

†I know the linked post says 17, but that was back when we had a dog.

Tags:

#reply via reblog #adventures in human capitalism #discourse cw #long post

{{next post in sequence}}

~ Brin ~ Leave a comment

probably-voldemort:

probably-voldemort:

My family is not very religious most of the time.  We pray at Christmas and Easter and Thanksgiving dinners, and my mom’s entire side of the family excluding her parents and siblings is hardcore religious so whenever we do anything with them it’s kind of religious.

But the point is, most of the time we aren’t, but every year at Christmas time, a church in the next town over puts on a Bethlehem and it’s kind of a tradition to go.  They go all out.  The building is massive, and they’ve got it all decked out.  There’s animals and stalls and everyone is in costume and in character.  When you get there, they give you some pennies and you can go and barter for cool little trinkets, and there’s other more expensive things you can buy with your own money.  And they have the best apple cider.  All in all, it’s pretty cool.

But anyway.  We go every year, bundled up in hats and scarves and mittens, and have a good time.  We’ve been doing it for as long as I can remember, and my mom talks about going when she was a kid.

I’m going to mention again that everyone is massively in character, especially the really super hardcore religious adults.  Because this is an important fact.

Every year since I was about thirteen or so, there’s been this one lady who worked at a stall selling ponchos (I have, like, three.  They’re really cool).  She was probably there before that, but I was thirteen when she started trying to barter for me to marry her son, who was also about thirteen.

“What a pretty little thing.  I think you’d make a very good wife for my son.  These are your parents?  I’ll give you six goats for your daughter’s marriage to my son.”

Her son, meanwhile, is in the “shop” behind her looking absolutely mortified and like he’d rather be anywhere else than there, and I’m pretty sure I probably looked just as embarrassed.

My parents gave her some sort of excuse, like it wasn’t enough goats or they weren’t ready to marry me off yet or something, and we moved on.

The next year we’re back again, and come up near to the same stall.

“Ah!  You’re back again!  Have you married your daughter off yet?  I can up my offer to nine goats and three chickens for your daughter to marry my son.”

Somehow she remembered the exact people she’d tried to buy their daughter off of for an entire year?  So my parents are refusing her offers again and me and the son are trading embarrassed looks and we go on our way.

And then it happens again.  And again.  And again.  Each and every one of the last six years this lady has tried to buy me in goats to be her son’s wife. 

 A couple years ago when we were waiting in line to get inside my mom jokingly said that they should accept this year and see what she’d do and I completely refused because it was mortifying enough as it was.

One year we brought my friend with us and we’re waiting outside and my sister was like “Are you gonna sell Kee this year?” and my dad was like “Maybe if there’s enough goats” and my friend was confused as heck and I was like “This lady tries to buy me to marry her son every year.  I told you that” and she’s like “Yeah but I didn’t think this was a thing that actually happened” and she was still skeptical and by the time my parents had finished refusing the lady’s offer, she’s killing herself laughing and then spent the next few months telling me I couldn’t look at guys because I already had a fiancée.

Anyway, it happened again this Christmas and the son has somehow gotten almost ridiculously attractive since last year.  The speech this year had something to do with how I was far too old to not have a husband yet, and the son and I just rolled our eyes at each other as his mom tried to barter with my parents for me.

This year’s offer was twenty six goats and nine chickens.  My sister looked up how much goats are worth, and was mad our parents didn’t sell me so she could have sold the goats and gotten $2000-$8000 for them.  My dad says they’re waiting out on an offer of a camel.  My brother thinks they should have it more than once a year so he can get more apple cider.

Now I’m back at uni, and in my first psych class of the semester the guy sitting beside me looked really familiar.  

As in his-mom-tries-to-buy-me-with-goats-every-Christmas familiar.

That kind of familiar.

We introduced ourselves before class started and I sat there for a couple minutes readying to make a total fool of myself in case I was wrong before turning to him again.

“This is going to sound really weird if you aren’t who I think you are, but by any chance does your mom try to buy you a wife with goats every Christmas?”

His friend gives me a weird look as he walks past me to sit on the other side of him, but he’s definitely putting the pieces together.

“That’s you?  Bethlehem in [city name], right?  God, my mom is so mortifying.”

And we both kinda laugh and meanwhile his friend is giving us both weird looks now because apparently he didn’t know that his friend’s mom was trying to buy him a wife using livestock.

So he turns to his friend and is like

“Oh, I forgot to introduce you.  Danny, this is my fiancée, Kee.”

And I kinda rolled my eyes and was like

“I’m not actually your fiancée.  Your mom hasn’t offered my parents enough goats yet.  But apparently my dad will sell me for a camel.”

And he laughed and shook his head like

“I am not telling my mom that.  I don’t want to see what she has planned for if your parents ever accept.”

So yeah.  His friend was really confused by that point and we explained it to him and it turns out he’s pretty cool and we’re Facebook friends now and hang out in psych classes.  Apparently his mom only ever tries to buy me for him and she and my mom had gone to the same church growing up which is why she can always pick us out.

So yeah.  That’s the story of how some lady tries to use goats to buy me to be her ridiculously attractive son’s wife every Christmas, and how he’s in my class and we’re friends now.

It was the 23rd of December, 2017, and my sister had convinced her friend to come with us this year.

“And that’s where Kee’s fiancé usually is,” Sam explained as we stood in the line waiting to get inside.  Her friend gave her the same sceptical look she’d apparently been giving since Sam had first told her.

“He’s not my fiancé,” I pointed out, trying to rub some feeling back into my hands.  The Goat Guy had been texting me updates since that morning.  The organizers had discussed it at length, but apparently temperatures of negative eighteen, thirteen inches of snow, and a blizzard warning weren’t quite enough to have Bethlehem cancelled (or for my parents to decide to skip it this year).  Hashtag Canada.

The line was long this year, and we’d already been standing out in the cold for the better part of half an hour.  My brother was loudly lamenting the fact that we couldn’t get to the hot apple cider until we’d made it inside.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I braved taking off a glove to check it.

“Who do you keep texting?” my mom asked, not-so-subtly trying to peer over my shoulder at my phone.

“Gregory from psychology,” I told her, sending off a text informing him that we were still in line.  It wasn’t technically a lie, since, you know, that was his actual name and he was in my psychology classes.  It wasn’t my fault that my family only knew him as the Goat Guy.

“Ooo,” Sam teased, elbowing me in the ribs, her bony elbows hurting less than usual through all our layers.  “I’m going to tell your fiancé he has competition, and then maybe they’ll offer us something useful.  Like a car or a trip to Hawaii or something.”

I snorted again.  “One, he’s still not my fiancé.  Two, he doesn’t have competition, because I’m not interested in him or in Gregory.  And, three, this isn’t a game show.  If anything, his mom will just offer maybe a horse or something.”

“Can I have the horse?”

I rolled my eyes, glancing at my phone as another text came in.  Hurry up.  “Sure, Cole.”

My brother pumped his fist in the air.  “Nice.”

It took another ten minutes or so to make it to the front of the line, and my family had placed their bets on the amount of farm animals that would be offered this year.  My dad reminded me that he was selling me if they offered a camel, and I rolled my eyes, trying to act as reluctant to get to that part of the night as I usually was.  Apparently I didn’t do as good a job as I thought I did, since Mom questioned me.

I shrugged, feeling my phone go off again.  “I guess I’ve just decided to go with it.”

Sam rolled her eyes.  “She thinks he’s hot,” she told her friend.  Which, well, it wasn’t exactly untrue.  Objectively the Goat Guy was ridiculously attractive, but that doesn’t mean I want to (or have time to) date him.

We’d reached the entrance by that point, and were given our little pouches of pennies to buy small trinkets and ducked into the (compared to outside, at least) warmth of Bethlehem.

Roman soldiers milled amongst the people, asking for taxes and wanting to see our papers.  We didn’t have papers, obviously, but the soldier who checked us took an extra penny as a bribe.

“Wait,” Sam’s friend said, stopping in her tracks.  “There’s a petting zoo?”

There was, in fact, a petting zoo.  The petting zoo and the apple cider were there to keep us pacified as we waited for the soldiers to allow us entrance into Bethlehem, and Cole and our parents went off to get us something to drink while I followed Sam and her friend to see the animals.

“What is this?” Sam asked, frowning.  “Where are all the animals?”

There were significantly less animals than usual.  Two whole pens were empty, and I could see a few soldiers and townspeople whispering to each other in a panic.

“Maybe they were too cold,” I suggested, reaching out to pat a pig’s head.  It snorted and turned away.

My parents and brother returned with our drinks, and I sighed into the bliss that is Bethlehem hot apple cider, and, by the time we made it to the gates to listen as the soldiers reminded us of laws that I don’t remember, I actually had a bit of feeling back in my fingers and face.

I pulled off a glove, typing up a quick text.  We’re in.

The stalls were as neat as they always were.  I bought a wooden hammer to add to my collection for a couple pennies.  My mom dug out her wallet to buy a carved wooden bowl.  Sam and her friend took selfies with a girl from their soccer team who was working in a bakery and she snuck them a free scone.  Cole found another apple cider vendor and took three cups for himself.

“Look,” Sam said, grinning wickedly as she wrapped an arm around my shoulders.  “There it is.”

And there it was.  The Goat Guy’s mom was standing outside her shop, heckling with a couple over the price of a rug.

“That is a poncho,” I agreed, glancing at one hanging on the side of the shop and deciding I was going to buy it after this whole thing was over.

Sam rolled her eyes.  “You know that’s not what I mean,” she pointed out, craning her neck.  “I don’t see your fiancé, though.”

“That’s because I don’t have one,” I pointed out, stopping to look at the smithery so I didn’t look too eager to get there.

No one bought that I actually wanted to see some guy pound metal with a hammer (there wasn’t an actual fire or anything, so he was really just sitting there hitting it), so they dragged me across the hall, grins on their faces.

The Goat Guy’s mom, who we will henceforth refer to as the Goat Mom for sake of ease, perked up as she saw us heading towards them, finishing up her bartering and holding her arms out in greeting.

“Ah,” she called, grinning at us.  “Back again, I see.  Surely you must have found a suitable husband for your daughter by now.”

“Nope,” my mom said, giving me a pointed look.  “She’s still single.”

(And, yeah, I was, and still am, but she doesn’t have to be so judgy about it)

The Goat Mom gasped, pressing a hand to her chest.  “My dear, you’re far too old to be without a husband,” she cried, causing people to stop to watch.  I could feel my face heating up, and glanced around wondering where the Goat Guy was at.  We had agreed months ago that this was always far more embarrassing for me than it was for him, so why was he taking so long?

“You won’t be young forever,” the Goat Mom was continuing, grabbing my hands and forcing my to look at her.  “You’re running out of time.”  She glanced past me to my parents, a smug look on her face that said she got just as much enjoyment out of this as my family did.  “My son is still in need of a wife.  I’ll tell you what, I will give you thirty goats and ten chickens for your daughter.  She—”

“Aww, Mom.  You started negotiations without me?  How are they supposed to know I’d be the perfect husband for Kee if they can’t see how hot I am?”

The Goat Mom froze for a moment, her grip on my hands loosening enough for me to pull away.  I followed the shocked gazes of my family and his mom to the Goat Guy.

He was leaning casually against the shop, somehow managing to look good in clothes that were 2000 years out of fashion, a smirk on his face and a half dozen goats and a llama surrounding him.

“That’s Kee’s fiancé,” Sam whispered to her friend, as if there was any doubt about his identity.

His mom blinked out of her shock, narrowing her eyes at him.  “Are you drunk?”

The Goat Guy looked offended, raising a hand to his chest.  “What?  No!”

Cole started cackling.  I don’t think he had any more idea what was going on than the rest of them, but fifteen year old boys are weird.

His mom glanced back at us for a moment, and I had to look away to keep the grin off my face, and noticed quite the crowd had gathered.

She took a deep breath as she turned back to her son, pressing her fingers to her temples.  “Then why do you have goats?”

I couldn’t keep myself from snorting then, but, thankfully, everyone seemed too distracted to notice.

The Goat Guy rolled his eyes, relaxing back against the shop once more.  “I mean, you’ve been failing at bartering me a wife for eight years, Mom,” he pointed out.  “I think they just don’t believe we really have as many goats as you say we have.  So I brought goats!”  He waved the ropes in his hands, and sent me a wink.  “And a llama!  Girls like llamas.”

“I think that’s actually an alpaca,” my brother helpfully pointed out, and the Goat Guy grinned.

“You’re probably right, my man,” he agreed and turned back to me.  “I’m adding this alpaca onto the list of whatever my mom’s already offered.  We can ride off on it into the sunset.  What do you say?”

“I say it probably wouldn’t hold us.”  I was grinning now, too, no longer able to hold it in.

The Goat Guy just shrugged and stayed silent, letting our families stew for a moment.

“Are you sure you aren’t drunk?” his mom finally asked, glancing between us in confusion.  “Maybe you’ve been spending a little too much time at the, uh, tavern.”  She glanced at the goats and the llama (alpaca?), realization dawning on her face.  “Gregory, you had better not be the reason everyone is panicking about the animals going missing from the petting—trading post.”

“Not drunk,” he insisted, ignoring the part about him stealing the animals from the petting zoo as he thrust the leads of the animals into her hands before she had a chance to protest.  “I’m just excited to see my future wife.”  He crossed the distance between us, my family stepping back, still mostly in shock, and wrapped me up in his arms.  “How’s it going, Kee?”

I laughed, hugging him back quickly before pulling away.  “Hey, Gregory,” I echoed loudly, my grin growing at the gasp that came from someone in my family.  “How’d you find the psych final?”

He groaned, burying his face in my neck.  “Ugh, don’t even get me started,” he whined, an arm wrapping back around my shoulders.  “I didn’t fail, but that’s about all I can say.”

I hummed in sympathy, watching our families try to piece together what was going on and the crowd that was wondering if this was supposed to be happening.  His mom’s mouth was opening to say something as I caught sight of a couple of soldiers pushing through the crowd, and nudged him.

“You!” one yelled, and the Goat Guy’s head snapped of my shoulder, staring at the soldier in shock.  “He stole the king’s animals!”  One of the others came forward, pulling him away from me.

“You, uh, have the right to remain silent,” he started, fixing his grip on the Goat Guy’s arm.  The soldier who grabbed his other arm rolled his eyes.

“He doesn’t have any rights.”

“Oh, right.”  The second soldier nodded and turned back to the Goat Guy.  “You don’t have the right to remain silent,” he amended.

“Take him to the king,” the first soldier ordered, taking the leads from the Goat Mom.  “He should be tried at once.”

The Goat Guy regained his wits and started to struggle against their hold.

“Wait for me, Kee!” he cried as they dragged him back through the parted crowd.  “I’ll come back for you!”

By the time he’d disappeared and the crowd had filled in their path, I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe.  It’d gone better than either of us could’ve hoped.

I calmed down after a moment, and the Goat Mom was still staring in confusion in the direction her son had disappeared in.  I stepped past her to the shop, pulling the poncho I’d noticed earlier off the wall.

“I’d like to buy this, please,” I said, and her eyes snapped back to me.  I grinned and handed her the money, and she pocketed it without bartering, and I walked away, the crowd parting for me as I wandered towards the next stall.

My family joined me a few moments later, as I was browsing some blown glass ornaments and ignoring the fact that the shopkeepers were whispering about me.

“What was that?” my mom demanded.

I shrugged.  “That was her bartering for me to marry the Goat Guy like every year.”

“Yeah, that was not like every year.”  Sam snorted and I could practically hear her rolling her eyes.  “Since when do you know the Goat Guy?”

“Since January?”  I tried to look confused, but I’m pretty sure I was still grinning.  “You knew that.”

“No?”

“Yeah?” I countered.  “Gregory from psychology?”

The stared at me for a long moment before any of them spoke.  Sam’s friend was the only one who seemed more entertained than confused.

“That was Gregory from psychology?” my mom asked, and I shrugged, grinning wider.  “You planned this, didn’t you?  That’s why you kept texting him outside?”

I shrugged.  “I mean, we didn’t plan him getting arrested,” I admitted.  “But, yeah, we planned the rest.”

“How’d he steal the goats and the alpaca?” Cole wondered.

“He knows a guy.”

“Like that’s what’s important here.”  Sam rolled her eyes.

“Why?” my dad asked, and I shrugged again.

“Seven years’ worth of revenge.”

“That’s not what’s important either,” Sam interjected, huffing loudly.  “Kee’s totally dating the Goat Guy.  I called it.”

“We’re not dating.”  I rolled my eyes, pushing past them to continue through Bethlehem.  There should’ve been another apple cider vendor coming up soon, and I’d lost all the heat from the last one.

My family did not drop it through the rest of Bethlehem, and neither did any of the vendors who, apparently, knew exactly who I was (my toque was kind of distinctive, so I guess I’ll give them that) and let me know how sorry they were to hear that my man had been locked up just for trying to provide for his family.

We also saw the Goat Guy again, who had been locked up with the prisoners in a large cage, guarded by a handful of soldiers.

He grinned as he saw us approaching, calling out for me and sticking his arms through the bars.

“Can I borrow your notes later?” he asked.  “I’m in here for nineteen years, so I’ll be missing a bit of class.”

Sam and her friend posed for selfies with him, and then she made me pose for one with him that will definitely be used for blackmail at a later date.

And that was Bethlehem.  No one shut up on the entire drive home, or for the rest of Christmas break, for that matter, about the fact that I’d been keeping my knowing the Goat Guy a secret for almost a year—which I hadn’t, as I pointed out multiple times.  They all knew about Gregory from psychology, and he was literally in my phone as The Goat Guy.  It wasn’t my fault they hadn’t put the pieces together.

My family is convinced the Goat Guy and I are meant to be and still not entirely convinced that we aren’t currently dating, and I’m kind of dreading what that might mean for Bethlehem 2k18.  Honestly, I’d rather not have to deal with the fallout of my parents actually giving in and getting me a bartered husband, no matter how hot he might be.  But I feel like they’re going to accept one year, especially after what we did this year.  

The Goat Guy says his mom isn’t any better, and is already planning for next year but won’t let him know anything.  Maybe I can convince my parents that I never have to go back ever again.

Two weeks later, I caught the Goat Guy’s eye from across the psychology lecture hall, waving him over.

“Hey,” I said, grinning at him as he slipped into the seat beside me.  I turned to my friends.  “Guys, this is Gregory the Goat Guy.”

“Her fiancé,” he added, and I snorted at my friends’ incredulous looks and punched him gently in the shoulder.

“Not my fiancé,” I corrected, and turned back to him.  “The llama was impressive, but you know my dad’s expecting a camel.”

“Darn,” he said, laughing.  “I could have sworn you said llama.  I guess I’ll have to find a camel by next year if we ever want to get engaged.”  He paused, raising an eyebrow.  “But you know, I did get arrested before your parents had a chance to decline the offer this time.  Maybe they were going to say yes to the llama.”

“Wait,” my friend said, leaning around me to give the Goat Guy a once over.  “That story was real?  The Goat Guy actually exists?”

Tags:

#storytime #long post #Christmas #anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog

Why Bennu? 10 Reasons

~ Brin ~ Leave a comment

nasa:

After traveling for two years and billions of kilometers from Earth, the OSIRIS-REx probe is only a few months away from its destination: the intriguing asteroid Bennu. When it arrives in December, OSIRIS-REx will embark on a nearly two-year investigation of this clump of rock, mapping its terrain and finding a safe and fruitful site from which to collect a sample.

The spacecraft will briefly touch Bennu’s surface around July 2020 to collect at least 60 grams (equal to about 30 sugar packets) of dirt and rocks. It might collect as much as 2,000 grams, which would be the largest sample by far gathered from a space object since the Apollo Moon landings. The spacecraft will then pack the sample into a capsule and travel back to Earth, dropping the capsule into Utah’s west desert in 2023, where scientists will be waiting to collect it.

This years-long quest for knowledge thrusts Bennu into the center of one of the most ambitious space missions ever attempted. But the humble rock is but one of about 780,000 known asteroids in our solar system. So why did scientists pick Bennu for this momentous investigation? Here are 10 reasons:

1. It’s close to Earth

tumblr_inline_pdrtu1ymzz1tzhl5u_540

Unlike most other asteroids that circle the Sun in the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter, Bennu’s orbit is close in proximity to Earth’s, even crossing it. The asteroid makes its closest approach to Earth every 6 years. It also circles the Sun nearly in the same plane as Earth, which made it somewhat easier to achieve the high-energy task of launching the spacecraft out of Earth’s plane and into Bennu’s. Still, the launch required considerable power, so OSIRIS-REx used Earth’s gravity to boost itself into Bennu’s orbital plane when it passed our planet in September 2017.

 

2. It’s the right size

tumblr_inline_pdrtvxmugd1tzhl5u_540

Asteroids spin on their axes just like Earth does. Small ones, with diameters of 200 meters or less, often spin very fast, up to a few revolutions per minute. This rapid spinning makes it difficult for a spacecraft to match an asteroid’s velocity in order to touch down and collect samples. Even worse, the quick spinning has flung loose rocks and soil, material known as “regolith” — the stuff OSIRIS-REx is looking to collect — off the surfaces of small asteroids. Bennu’s size, in contrast, makes it approachable and rich in regolith. It has a diameter of 492 meters, which is a bit larger than the height of the Empire State Building in New York City, and rotating once every 4.3 hours.

 

3. It’s really old

tumblr_inline_pdrtxeysnx1tzhl5u_540

Bennu is a leftover fragment from the tumultuous formation of the solar system. Some of the mineral fragments inside Bennu could be older than the solar system. These microscopic grains of dust could be the same ones that spewed from dying stars and eventually coalesced to make the Sun and its planets nearly 4.6 billion years ago. But pieces of asteroids, called meteorites, have been falling to Earth’s surface since the planet formed. So why don’t scientists just study those old space rocks? Because astronomers can’t tell (with very few exceptions) what kind of objects these meteorites came from, which is important context. Furthermore, these stones, that survive the violent, fiery decent to our planet’s surface, get contaminated when they land in the dirt, sand, or snow. Some even get hammered by the elements, like rain and snow, for hundreds or thousands of years. Such events change the chemistry of meteorites, obscuring their ancient records.

 

4. It’s well preserved

tumblr_inline_pdrtyzfbtt1tzhl5u_540

Bennu, on the other hand, is a time capsule from the early solar system, having been preserved in the vacuum of space. Although scientists think it broke off a larger asteroid in the asteroid belt in a catastrophic collision between about 1 and 2 billion years ago, and hurtled through space until it got locked into an orbit near Earth’s, they don’t expect that these events significantly altered it.

 

5. It might contain clues to the origin of life

tumblr_inline_pdru068tcu1tzhl5u_540

Analyzing a sample from Bennu will help planetary scientists better understand the role asteroids may have played in delivering life-forming compounds to Earth. We know from having studied Bennu through Earth- and space-based telescopes that it is a carbonaceous, or carbon-rich, asteroid. Carbon is the hinge upon which organic molecules hang. Bennu is likely rich in organic molecules, which are made of chains of carbon bonded with atoms of oxygen, hydrogen, and other elements in a chemical recipe that makes all known living things. Besides carbon, Bennu also might have another component important to life: water, which is trapped in the minerals that make up the asteroid.

 

6. It contains valuable materials

tumblr_inline_pdru1qp5wi1tzhl5u_540

Besides teaching us about our cosmic past, exploring Bennu close-up will help humans plan for the future. Asteroids are rich in natural resources, such as iron and aluminum, and precious metals, such as platinum. For this reason, some companies, and even countries, are building technologies that will one day allow us to extract those materials. More importantly, asteroids like Bennu are key to future, deep-space travel. If humans can learn how to extract the abundant hydrogen and oxygen from the water locked up in an asteroid’s minerals, they could make rocket fuel. Thus, asteroids could one day serve as fuel stations for robotic or human missions to Mars and beyond. Learning how to maneuver around an object like Bennu, and about its chemical and physical properties, will help future prospectors.

 

7. It will help us better understand other asteroids

tumblr_inline_pdru3hxp3c1tzhl5u_540

Astronomers have studied Bennu from Earth since it was discovered in 1999. As a result, they think they know a lot about the asteroid’s physical and chemical properties. Their knowledge is based not only on looking at the asteroid, but also studying meteorites found on Earth, and filling in gaps in observable knowledge with predictions derived from theoretical models. Thanks to the detailed information that will be gleaned from OSIRIS-REx, scientists now will be able to check whether their predictions about Bennu are correct. This work will help verify or refine telescopic observations and models that attempt to reveal the nature of other asteroids in our solar system.

 

8. It will help us better understand a quirky solar force …

tumblr_inline_pdru5dvc3b1tzhl5u_540

Astronomers have calculated that Bennu’s orbit has drifted about 280 meters (0.18 miles) per year toward the Sun since it was discovered. This could be because of a phenomenon called the Yarkovsky effect, a process whereby sunlight warms one side of a small, dark asteroid and then radiates as heat off the asteroid as it rotates. The heat energy thrusts an asteroid either away from the Sun, if it has a prograde spin like Earth, which means it spins in the same direction as its orbit, or toward the Sun in the case of Bennu, which spins in the opposite direction of its orbit. OSIRIS-REx will measure the Yarkovsky effect from close-up to help scientists predict the movement of Bennu and other asteroids. Already, measurements of how this force impacted Bennu over time have revealed that it likely pushed it to our corner of the solar system from the asteroid belt.

 

9. … and to keep asteroids at bay

tumblr_inline_pdru7l3zwh1tzhl5u_540

One reason scientists are eager to predict the directions asteroids are drifting is to know when they’re coming too-close-for-comfort to Earth. By taking the Yarkovsky effect into account, they’ve estimated that Bennu could pass closer to Earth than the Moon is in 2135, and possibly even closer between 2175 and 2195. Although Bennu is unlikely to hit Earth at that time, our descendants can use the data from OSIRIS-REx to determine how best to deflect any threatening asteroids that are found, perhaps even by using the Yarkovsky effect to their advantage.

 

10. It’s a gift that will keep on giving

Samples of Bennu will return to Earth on September 24, 2023. OSIRIS-REx scientists will study a quarter of the regolith. The rest will be made available to scientists around the globe, and also saved for those not yet born, using techniques not yet invented, to answer questions not yet asked.

Read the web version of this week’s “Solar System: 10 Things to Know” article HERE.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space: http://nasa.tumblr.com.

Tags:

#space #the power of science #proud citizen of The Future #Bennu #long post

~ Brin ~ Leave a comment

surprisebitch:

BABY Shark do do, do do do do

Baby shark do do, do do do do

Baby shark do do, do do do do

BABY SHARK

tumblr_inline_pddb986qof1qgk4m1_250

 

influenzsa:

MAMA Shark do do, do do do do

Mama Shark do do, do do do do

Mama Shark do do, do do do do

MAMA SHARK

 

tumblr_o3hpkfsqu71qzjr2jo3_r1_400

 

planetben:

DADDY Shark do do, do do do do

Daddy Shark do do, do do do do

Daddy Shark do do, do do do do

DADDY SHARK

tumblr_inline_pddderlmpn1ra64n7_400

 

gnarly-icarli:

GRANDMA Shark do do, do do do do

Grandma Shark do do, do do do do

Grandma Shark do do, do do do do

GRANDMA SHARK

tumblr_p6sxi0ppm81ry46hlo1_500

 

timberwolfalpha:

GRANDPA Shark do do, do do do do

Grandpa Shark do do, do do do do

Grandpa Shark do do, do do do do

GRANDPA SHARK

tumblr_me22matvoq1qk7867o1_500

 

ash-tonirwin:

LET’S GO HUNT do do, do do do do

Let’s go hunt do do, do do do do

Let’s go hunt do do, do do do do

LET’S GO HUNT

tumblr_owi4qqahsx1u25kiio1_400

 

antisocial-astronaut:

SWIM AWAY, doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo.

Swim away, doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo.

Swim away, doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo.

SWIM AWAY.

tumblr_pdgyr1w21w1v8eufl_400

 

literallyee-trash:

SAFE AT LAST, doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo

Safe at last, doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo

Safe at last, doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo

SAFE AT LAST

 

tumblr_owt5an7HK61u2p2coo1_400

 

iiredgm:

whoever doesn’t get this, you are missing out on life bro

 

rebel-against-myself:

I just sat there and sang the entire thing

 

maryellencarter:

I never heard this version! The version I know, after “grandpa shark”, it was “person swimming”, “shark attack”, “happy shark”.

I have done this song exactly once, and I have never been able to find anyone else doing anything close to the version that other Girl Guide troop taught us on that joint camping trip.

There was a lead-in about a couple going to the beach and swimming out into the ocean; I’m not sure how that part went exactly. It leads into the shark list with the line “Then they saw sharks”, though.

(Note that each line was only done once, not 3.5 times as in this thread.)

After the chorus is:

“So they swam back” [swimming motions with arms]
“Faster back” [faster swimming motions]
“Faster still” [even faster swimming motions]
“Not fast enough” [continue swimming, shake head “no”]
“They got a leg” [put one leg forward]
“Other leg” [step forward with other leg]
“And an arm” [hold out arm]
“Other arm” [both arms forward]
“And a head” [lean forward]
“And I was dead” [not sure about motion for this one]
[quietly] “And all were dead” [hold finger in front of mouth in “shh” gesture; “doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo” is subdued]
[quietly] “And all were dead” [ditto]
[big grin, normal volume] “Except the sharks!” [mama-shark clapping, because mama comes first in this version’s list]

(I think the shark order went “mama (horizontal clapping), papa or maybe daddy (vertical clapping), sister (diagonal clapping), baby (hand motions as if making a hand puppet talk; “doo doo”-ing is high-pitched), grandpa (place last knuckle of each finger against last knuckle of corresponding finger on other hand to evoke a mouth with no teeth left, make ‘talking’ motions; “doo doo”-ing is low-pitched and tries to sound old and toothless)”.)

And then you do the shark list again, and that’s how it ends.

It would be nice to refresh my memory on how that version went (though I’m kind of surprised by how much of it I *do* remember given that it was one time seven years ago), but I haven’t found anyone who knows what I’m talking about.

Tags:

#reply via reblog #is the blue I see the same as the blue you see #(close enough) #my childhood #music #death tw #shark #long post #oral culture #amnesia cw?

Capturing Space Stories, One Click at a Time!

~ Brin ~ Leave a comment

nasa:

It’s World Photography Day!

To celebrate the occasion, we’re sharing photos from our photographers that chronicle what’s making news across the agency – from launches and landings to important science announcements to images taken from the vantage point of space.

Take a look!

A Closer View of the Moon 

tumblr_inline_pdpo0lyye51tzhl5u_540

Posted to Twitter by European Space Agency astronaut Alexander Gerst, this image shows our planet’s Moon as seen from the International Space Station. As he said in the tweet, “By orbiting the Earth almost 16 times per day, the #ISS crew travel the distance to the Moon and back – every day. #Horizons”

The International Space Station is the world’s only orbital laboratory. An international partnership of space agencies provides and operates the elements of the station. The principals are the space agencies of the United States, Russia, Europe, Japan and Canada.

Photo Credit: NASA

Spacewalk Selfie

tumblr_inline_pdpo3eivcn1tzhl5u_540

NASA astronaut Ricky Arnold took this selfie during the May 16, 2018, spacewalk to perform upgrades on the International Space Station, saying in a tweet “An amazing view of our one and only planet.”

Arnold and fellow spacewalker Drew Feustel donned spacesuits and worked for more than six hours outside the station to finish upgrading cooling system hardware and install new and updated communications equipment for future dockings of commercial crew spacecraft.

Photo Credit: NASA

Preparing to Leave Earth

tumblr_inline_pdpqtq2urr1tzhl5u_540

The mobile service tower at Space Launch Complex-3 is rolled back to reveal the United Launch Alliance Atlas-V rocket with NASA’s InSight spacecraft onboard, Friday, May 4, 2018, at Vandenberg Air Force Base in California. InSight, short for Interior Exploration using Seismic Investigations, Geodesy and Heat Transport, is a Mars lander designed to study the “inner space” of Mars: its crust, mantle, and core. 

Photo Credit: NASA/Bill Ingalls

Launch Long Exposure

tumblr_inline_pdpnqxqynr1tzhl5u_540

The United Launch Alliance Delta IV Heavy rocket is seen in this long exposure photograph as it launches NASA’s Parker Solar Probe to touch the Sun, Sunday, Aug. 12, 2018 from Launch Complex 37 at Cape Canaveral Air Force Station, Florida. Parker Solar Probe is humanity’s first-ever mission into a part of the Sun’s atmosphere called the corona.  Here it will directly explore solar processes that are key to understanding and forecasting space weather events that can impact life on Earth.

Photo Credit: NASA/Bill Ingalls

Waving Farewell

tumblr_inline_pdpnjz1blw1tzhl5u_540

Expedition 56 flight engineer Serena Auñón-Chancellor of NASA waves farewell to family and friends as she and Soyuz Commander Sergey Prokopyev of Roscosmos and flight engineer Alexander Gerst of European Space Agency depart Building 254 for the launch pad a few hours before their launch, Wednesday, June 6, 2018 at the Baikonur Cosmodrome in Kazakhstan. Auñón-Chancellor, Prokopyev, and Gerst launched aboard the Soyuz MS-09 spacecraft at 7:12am EDT (5:12pm Baikonur time) on June 6 to begin their journey to the International Space Station.

Photo Credit: NASA/Victor Zelentsov

Launching Humans to Space

tumblr_inline_pdpnp5ogfl1tzhl5u_540

The Soyuz MS-09 rocket is launched with Expedition 56 Soyuz Commander Sergey Prokopyev of Roscosmos, flight engineer Serena Auñón-Chancellor of NASA, and flight engineer Alexander Gerst of ESA (European Space Agency), Wednesday, June 6, 2018 at the Baikonur Cosmodrome in Kazakhstan. Prokopyev, Auñón-Chancellor, and Gerst will spend the next six months living and working aboard the International Space Station. 

Photo Credit: NASA/Joel Kowsky

Rethinking Aircraft Design

tumblr_inline_pdpn21cdmc1tzhl5u_540

In an effort to improve fuel efficiency, NASA and the aircraft industry are rethinking aircraft design. Inside the 8’ x 6’ wind tunnel at NASA Glenn Research Center, engineers tested a fan and inlet design, commonly called a propulsor, which could use four to eight percent less fuel than today’s advanced aircraft.

Photo Credit: NASA/Rami Daud

Flying Observatory

tumblr_inline_pdpmrzrshh1tzhl5u_540

SOFIA, the Stratospheric Observatory for Infrared Astronomy, is the largest airborne observatory in the world, capable of making observations that are impossible for even the largest and highest ground-based telescopes. During its lifetime, SOFIA also will inspire the development of new scientific instrumentation and foster the education of young scientists and engineers.

Photo Credit: NASA/SOFIA/Waynne Williams

Experimenting with Venus-like conditions

tumblr_inline_pdpmt1t7au1tzhl5u_540

A close-up view of crystals that developed on materials exposed to conditions on Venus in NASA Glenn’s Extreme Environments Rig. This unique and world class ground-based test rig can accurately most simulate atmospheric conditions for any planet or moon in the solar system and beyond.

Photo Credit: NASA/Bridget Caswell

Honeycomb Close Up

tumblr_inline_pdpmtsvdxh1tzhl5u_540

A close-up view of 3-D printed honeycomb patterns made in NASA Glenn manufacturing lab using a method called binder jetting. The honeycomb structures can find use in several applications such as a strong core for lightweight sandwich panels, acoustic panels for noise attenuation and innovative cellular structures.

Photo Credit: NASA/Marvin Smith

To see even more photos of our space exploration efforts, visit us on Flickr: https://www.flickr.com/photos/nasahqphoto/.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space: http://nasa.tumblr.com.

Tags:

#long post #pretty things #space #the power of science #proud citizen of The Future #I especially like the third one #that’s not an angle I normally see

~ Brin ~ 1 Comment

nonomella:

Coraline is a masterfully made film, an amazing piece of art that i would never ever ever show to a child oh my god are you kidding me

 

cthullhu:

Nothing wrong with a good dose of sheer terror at a young age

 

whatthecurtains:

“It was a story, I learned when people began to read it, that children experienced as an adventure, but which gave adults nightmares. It’s the strangest book I’ve written”

-Neil Gaiman on Coraline

 

greenbryn:

@nightlovechild

 

lierdumoa:

This is a legit psychology phenomenon tho like there’s a stop motion version of Alice and Wonderland that adults find viscerally horrifying, but children think is nbd. It’s like in that ‘toy story’ period of development kids are all kind of high key convinced that their stuffed animals lead secret lives when they’re not looking and that they’re sleeping on top of a child-eating monster every night so they see a movie like Coraline and are just like “Ah, yes. A validation of my normal everyday worldview. Same thing happened to me last Tuesday night. I told mommy and she just smiled and nodded.”

 

redgrieve:

Stephen King had this whole spiel i found really interesting about this phenomenon about how kids have like their own culture and their own literally a different way of viewing and interpreting the world with its own rules that’s like secret and removed from adult culture and that you just kinda forget ever existed as you grow up it’s apparently why he writes about kids so much

 

12drakon:

An open-ended puzzle often gives parents math anxiety while their kids just happily play with it, explore, and learn. I’ve seen it so many times in math circles. We warn folks about it.

 

gokuma:

Neil Gaiman also said that the difference in reactions stems from the fact in “Coraline” adults see a child in danger – while children see themselves facing danger and winning

 

rosymamacita:

i never saw so much push back from adults towards YA literature as when middle aged women started reading The Hunger Games. They were horrified that kids would be given such harsh stories, and I kept trying to point out the NECESSITY of confronting these hard issues in a safe fictional environment.

 

jewishdragon:

Also, in an interview, he said that Coraline was partially based on a story his not yet 6 year old daughter would tell him 

SAGAL: No. I mean, for example, your incredibly successful young adult novel “Coraline” is about a young girl in house in which there’s a hole in the wall that leads to a very mysterious and very evil world. So when you were a kid, is that what you imagined?

GAIMAN: When I was a kid, we actually lived in a house that had been divided in two at one point, which meant that one room in our house opened up onto a brick wall. And I was convinced all I had to do was just open it the right way and it wouldn’t be a brick wall. So I’d sidle over to the door and I’d pull it open.

(SOUNDBITE OF LAUGHTER)

SAGAL: Right.

GAIMAN: And it was always a brick wall.

SAGAL: Right.

GAIMAN: But it was one of those things that as I grew older, I carried it with me and I thought, I want to send somebody through that door. And when I came to write a story for my daughter Holly, at the time she was a 4 or 5-year-old girl. She’d come home from nursery. She’d seen me writing all day. So she’d come and climb on my lap and dictate stories to me. And it’d always be about small girls named Holly.

SAGAL: Right.

GAIMAN: Who would come home to normally find their mother had been kidnapped by a witch and replaced by evil people who wanted to kill her and she’d have to go off and escape. And I thought, great, what a fun kid.

 

somewhereinmalta:

It’s anxious adults who desperately want to “soften” stories. Kids prefer the real thing: with monsters, bloodthirsty ogres and evil murderous stepmothers; where the littlest brother always wins and all the villains are horrendously punished in the end. The world is threatening to the eyes of a child, so they need a fictional universe where the little people have a fair chance against the big and strong.

 

maryellencarter:

Sometimes. Other times you have small anxious children who really, really don’t want anything upsetting or traumatic in their stories. Those do exist; I was one. The whole thing about “children don’t want soft stories, children want gore and horror and decapitated barbies” may apply to a majority of children, but not all of them. :P

#i also went hoppity-skip of my own volition   #i am not and was not a Real Child   #still kind of sensitive about that   #i was easily frightened and easily traumatized   #and the only people who seem to acknowledge that possibility at all   #are like Think Of The Children conservative activists and helicopter parents   #idk if i have a point here   #i just get a little tetchy about Real Children

—

Oh god, same.

The person right before you in the chain says “The world is threatening to the eyes of a child, so they need a fictional universe where the little people have a fair chance against the big and strong”, and while there’s a important harm *reduction* in that, also very important is “so they need a universe where things *aren’t* threatening for a change”.

This world is one *so* thoroughly threatening that even its *sitcoms* contain shapeshifting monsters that camouflage themselves as normal parts of the environment, and plagues that drive you insane and which can infect you through a phone call. A world where cars have stickers constantly reminding you of the terrible things that can happen to you in them, and every grocery store has a random chance of triggering you, re-rolled every four minutes (and you don’t have enough autonomy to even *attempt* to do anything to counteract it).

Why the fuck *wouldn’t* you want a break from that hellscape?

I did read Coraline as a kid, and I don’t think I found it *especially* horrifying, but “not especially horrifying” is *not* *saying* much at that age.

(I continue to be very glad that I did not read Animorphs.)

—

(Although, re: decapitated Barbies specifically, I *did* play barber-surgeon† with my stuffed animals. This somehow did not stop me from being what I think was the expected level of horrified by those bits of Toy Story; it wasn’t until I was an adult that I realised I was Sid.)

—

There’s *some* ways in which I rolled with it more as a kid (for example, my inclination towards fluff is actually *stronger* now), but I think that’s…sort of a learned-helplessness kind of thing? When horror is everywhere, there’s nothing you can do *but* take it.

(related: the thing where younger!me was into (what I would now recognise as) erotic horror because *that was all there was*; my tastes shifted heavily towards fluffy consentful stuff pretty much as soon as there was fluffy consentful stuff to be had)

—

I wonder if this relates to the assumption between adults that everyone’s masochistic.

—

†I don’t think I ever actually called it that, but I figure that term gives you a good idea of the sort of things involved.

Tags:

#the last time I walked into a grocery store and they started playing That Song #I walked right back out and listened to Florence and the Machine on my smartphone while I waited for them to be done #(and it *still* sucked just not as much) #ten-year-old me did not have that option #reply via reblog #long post #amnesia cw #ageism #nsfw text? #death mention #illness mention #my childhood

~ Brin ~ Leave a comment

ts-porter:

ts-porter:

ts-porter:

sixthousandbees:

Thought about “Humans are space orcs/space fae”. There was a line talking about how theres a human working on a ship but no-ones entirely sure if they’re meant to be there, but they didn’t want to like offend the terrifying space orc.

What if the “drifter” archetype continues into space? Like maybe we negotiated for free travel with one of our allies, but because humans come from a death world and are terrfiying, and because humans can be oblivious, we just assume we can board on any ship going anywhere, nbd?

like not as stowaways. we’re not hiding. Like those wolves and wild dogs in russia that use the railways. Are YOU going to tell a wolf they shouldn’t be riding the train?!? Thought not.

Captain Diii did not become aware of the… problem until her ship was a full half-cycle out from the resupply station. She was halfway through a standard sweep of the ship, to be sure it was all in good order, when she came across a sort of cocoon constructed of light, sturdy fabric strung up in the end of service corridor alpha. It was not blocking access to anything of even minor importance, it simply was not meant to be there. It had no use she could discern, but it had no place aboard Captain Diii’s ship.

“What is the purpose of this?” Captain Diii asked the young technician assigned to the sector.

Their mood-spots cycled to anxiety-orange as their feet shuffled in discomfort. “The human called it her ‘hammock’ and said it would be out of the way there?”

A human. On Captain Diii’s ship. Her spots flashed from fear to anger to consternation and settled on worry. This had never before happened to her. She’d only been captain for two annuals, and she operated so far from any of the major travel hubs she had hoped she would not have to deal with this.

The problem had started after the war. The terrifying human ‘marines’ had been key to repelling the Kkoin invaders, with their wild recklessness and near-indestructibility. They had put an end to the war very quickly, and the terms of alliance in exchange for this service had been seen as extremely generous. They asked for transportation, mainly, since human FTL drives still lagged behind galactic standard. It had been assumed that by this they meant transporting goods and perhaps colonists by arrangement, but the wording had been ambiguous in translation.

That did happen, but in addition humans would simply… step onto ships going where they wanted to go. And stay. Who would dare contradict a human? Any one of them could turn deadly at a moment’s notice. Their hardiness and ferocity was legend. As of yet, no way of repelling them had been 100% effective. Their comfort range was massive, so keeping a ship hot or cold did not help. Scents designed to be maximally unpleasant to the human sensory array dissuaded some, but others would simply laugh and joke about them as they boarded anyway. It seemed they could acclimate to even the most noxious of scents within a few cycles.

Some humans would uproot their entire families and head for another planet, seemingly on a whim. Other humans would then go visit these families, and go back home, or not. Some humans traveled from planet to planet and station to station to satisfy their near-endless curiosity. Some traveled because to travel and see new things gave them pleasure, and then returned to their homes seemingly refreshed.

Such a strange species.

Captain Diii had been certain she had assigned someone to guard the ship and tell any hopeful humans that there was no space for them if they tried to board. Captain Diii did not have any facilities for humans aboard her ship. She hurried to the nearest communication pod and signaled for her second in command, Taa, to join her.

Taa already had anxiety flashing on her mood spots when she arrived.

“Taa, were you not assigned to inform humans that there was no space?” Captain Diii asked.

“I did, Captain!” Taa protested. “But she answered that she did not need much and walked right past me! What could I do?”

“And where is she now?” Diii asked.

“The kitchens. She… she said she wanted to be added to the duty roster, and that she enjoyed food preparation?”

That was another thing about the humans. They almost all wanted to work on the ships they boarded. Often they threw duty schedules into disarray by simply volunteering themselves to do tasks. At least this one seemed to know to ask the officer in charge of duties.

Diii found the human in the kitchens, as expected. She was very tall and thin for her type, of the morph ‘all bones’, if Diii was remembering the mandatory human-culture lessons that had been recently been added to ships-captain certification classes. She seemed to lack the jiggling bits that were so disconcerting on some humans. She did not reek of artificial fragrances as some humans did, instead scented pleasantly of human natural musk. Her head-covering stands, ‘hair’, was a friendly violet. Diii was certain this was not a natural coloration for the species. Her loose cloth coverings were earthy browns and creams, reminiscent of a child’s camouflage.

The human turned to look at Captain Diii, and showed her white-bone teeth in the body language ‘smile’, a gesture of friendliness and pleasure. Now that she was turned, Diii could see that half of the human’s head was shaved, and an array of electronics were installed directly in her skull. It was testament to their extraordinary healing powers that augmenting themselves with inorganic parts was commonplace in human culture. The humans had the technology to make their implants invisible, but some chose to make them visible because it looked ‘bad posterior’, which was somehow a good thing and aesthetically pleasing to them?

The human’s implants lit up, showing the exact blue of happiness, as she straightened up to give the human ‘salute’–a greeting to a superior. “Captain Diii? It’s good to meet you. I’m Elizabeth, but you can call me Zizi.”

Captain Diii could not help but be somewhat charmed. She must have the latest language-translation chip, Zizi’s speech was near perfect, and that she had something that functioned nearly like mood-spots was comforting. Her chosen name, as well, was easy to pronounce and nonthreateningly low-status.

“A greeting, Zizi,” Captain Diii answered carefully. “May I inquire your purpose aboard my ship?”

“Oh, I’m just a drifter,” Zizi said. “I just love traveling, you know? I heard the moons of Sigma7 were gorgeous, so I’m working my way that-a-ways.” Zizi’s pseudo-mood spot lights switched to anticipation before cycling back to happiness. “I’ll be off your ship at the next supply depot, if I can find someone heading more that direction.”

Ah, the ‘drifter’ type. Captain Diii had heard of them. ‘ship-hoppers’. An entire sub-class of humans who wandered the galaxy simply because they did not want to do anything else. They were famously the most difficult to dissuade from boarding a ship, and most likely to board from strange ports and going strange directions. Clearly it was not Taa’s fault she had been unable to keep Zizi out, and Diii signaled brief apology toward her.

“I won’t be any trouble,” Zizi continued. “I can set my hammock up anywhere to sleep, if it’s in your way?”

“The location you have chosen is… acceptable,” Captain Diii allowed. Zizi’s hair’s constant show of friendly had her own spots heading toward that color in automatic prosocial response. It was somewhat disconcerting. “I will leave you to your work,” Captain Diii said, retreating, and Zizi smiled and threw another quick salute before turning back to the food on the stove. Her implants showed concentration and curiosity, and then Captain Diii was outside the room with her again.

She turned toward Taa, who was still concerned. “I have heard that ships with a human listed on their crew roster have a 30% lower chance of being targeted by pirates?” Taa volunteered.

“Yes, yes,” Captain Diii mused. The risk was very low to begin with, especially for a ship like hers that did not haul valuable cargo, but anything that lowered it further could not be all bad. “It is not your fault in any case, Taa. Nothing could have prevented this human from boarding.”

Taa relaxed some, and Captain Diii returned to her inspection of the ship. Then she went to the helm and transmitted her updated crew roster to the main control base, encrypted only very lightly.

It certainly would not be bad to be known to have a human aboard.

Anybody in the mood for another Zizi story?

.

Crew satisfaction with meals increased by ~12% when the human drifter Zizi was working in the kitchens. She had the same base ingredients to work with that were aboard any ship, but her inventiveness with seasonings leant an artificial sense of variety to the meals.

Who would have thought to add sourleaf to a puddingfruit custard, or sweet red spice to a savory stew? And yet the combinations were delicious. When questioned, Zizi claimed to cook ‘by feel’ rather than following recipes. Most curious. Captain Diii’s favorite invention of Zizi’s was a thing she called ‘chai’, a rich spicy infusion in sweetened hot water. She said it was for relaxation, and Diii was not the only one who found themself sipping on a warm cup in the lounge at the end of shift.

Zizi was often in the lounge when she was off duty. She integrated with the crew very easily, making friendly overtures and playing games. She was already a master at Snap and Shuffle, the most popular games among the younger crew, and she also had a ‘pack of cards’, worn rectangles of stiff paper with drawings on them, and taught a few of the crew the human games ‘go fish’ and ‘texas hold ‘em’.

Zizi was even willing to help in duties that were not her own, if requested. When a hard-to-reach relay fuse burnt out, the engineers enlisted the reach of her long arms to replace it without having to take the wall apart. When Lucu, the youngest of the cleaning staff, injured their graspers and was barred from duty for five cycles, Zizi was one of the volunteers to perform their duties, and did so will skill and efficiency. When the algal vats in the air purification and reoxygenation plant needed turning, Zizi joined in, uncomplaining despite the heavy work.

All in all, having a human aboard was not as bad as Captain Diii had
feared. It was, in fact, entirely pleasant–though that had more to do
with this individual human than humans in general.

“You have many skills, human Zizi,” Captain Diii praised. Both she and Zizi were off their duty shift, and enjoying a cup of ‘chai’ together. Her mood spots were showing a mild violet to match the human’s hair, both of them happy to be sharing friendly companionship.

Zizi rubbed at the back of her neck, ducking a bit and her pseudo-mood-spots showing faint embarrassment. “Well, I’m a jack-of-all-trades, and you know what they say about those. Master of none.”

Ah, yes, Captain Diii had heart of the jack-of-all-trades subtype of human, able to achieve proficiency in a great number of skills. No wonder Zizi was so versatile and creative! This only confirmed to Diii that what she had discussed with Taa was the correct course of action, and her mood spots headed toward both excitement and worry.

“In another three cycles we will reach the supply depot,” Captain Diii began. “You have proven yourself a valuable member of the crew, and all would be sad to see you leave. We as a ship extend to you an offer: will you contract as a paid crew member for a full annual?”

The human Zizi blinked her eyes at Captain Diii several times, which body language she did not know how to interpret. “You’re offering to hire me?”

“Yes. I can offer standard wages and a private space in the crew quarters.” Captain Diii said. Taa had recently pair-bonded with two of the engineers, moving them into her rooms, so there was an available berth. It was not much, but it was all Captain Diii could offer.

“Wow, that would be perfect!” Zizi stated, before Diii could become too worried about her response. She bared her teeth in a wide smile, mood implants lighting up with joy. “I love this ship, and I was about out of money too, haha! Thank you so much Captain, I accept!”

Captain Diii’s mood spots flickered to joy as well, answering Zizi’s happiness with her own. She was absolutely certain she had made the correct decision. Zizi was certainly good for the ship and crew.

And maybe, if they were lucky, having such a high-quality human aboard would keep lower-quality humans from taking up residence.

.

The time has come. The time for more Zizi and Diii.

.

Hiring Zizi as a crewmember was an absolute success. Their very own ‘jack-of-all-trades’, able to fill nearly any role with little teaching, and at the standard wages for a single crewmember! Diii was proud to be able to claim her ship’s human as a valuable asset when other captains attempted to commiserate about humans boarding their ships. There was no shortage of jealous captains, but Diii had hired Zizi first.

Should Zizi follow her drifter inclinations to leave Diii’s crew once her contracted annual was over, she would be able to hire on to any number of other ships. Still, Diii was glad to have her while she could.

Zizi was far more aggressive than Taa would dare to be, dissuading other humans from choosing to board the ship. It was convenient to be able to assign her the task, and know that she could keep her species-mates away. Zizi also had a talent for haggling with Yikar merchants, common in some of the supply depots Diii’s ship frequented. With Zizi along, essentials could be purchased at an average of 14% lower price–not a difference to be underestimated!

Not to say that there were not occasional problems. Such was inevitable. Once, Zizi got into a screaming argument with another human who wished to board the ship, which became a physical altercation, which the supply depot’s security bots broke up. How utterly mortifying to have to explain to the security monitors that Zizi had been following orders, and that Diii wished her returned so that they might make an on-schedule departure. Diii’s spots were tinged with anxiety-orange for three full cycles afterward!

Another time, through either malice or inattention, a Yikar merchant sold Zizi an assortment of spices that included deadly poisons! Of course, they would not harm Zizi–some of them came from the human’s own eggworld. It was only luck that one of the senior cooks had been in the kitchen when Zizi happily brought in the spices to experiment with them, and recognized them for the poisons they were. Otherwise, the entire crew might have been lost! Everyone loved Zizi’s cooking. Thankfully, the ‘garlics’ were caught and properly disposed of before they were even opened, and Zizi did not make the same mistake again.

Most distressing was the time when, rather than keeping other humans out, Zizi brought an entire group of them into the ship. The ship had stopped at one of the most major travel hubs they frequented, and Zizi was greeted by a group of humans of assorted morphs, whom she clung to tight with her long arms, and pressed her mouth to in the human ‘kisses’. Her mood implants burned with joy.

They were a very loud group, and Zizi briefly introduced them as ‘my people’ before bringing them into the ship and entirely taking over the crew lounge. Their harsh barks, the human ‘laughter’, echoed through the entire ship at irregular intervals. They had some terrible sound technology, rhythmic beats and discordant screeching, which those few who were able to get close enough to the lounge to observe them reported that they moved their bodies to.

The sound assault never stopped, but it did become quieter as the cycle ended. Diii braved herself to peer into the lounge, to see that they had wires connected to the electronic implants in their skulls, and were manipulating them to effects they seemed to find humorous or pleasurable. It was barbaric, horrifying, and Diii retreated again before they saw her.

Diii had of course heard of the common human practice of altering their mental chemistry, through means both safe and deadly, for the sake of entertainment. She had thought their human was different. Not, it seemed, when she was among her own kind!

There was massive consternation throughout the crew. Of course there was. Humans were known for their pack-bonding, and as much as Zizi had seemed to bond to the crew, she was still human. What if she had chosen to bring all of ‘her people’ into the ship permanently? There might be enough room for them all in Zizi’s crew quarters, should they all have cocoons like her ‘hammock’ for sleeping in.

Thankfully, the group left after a cycle and a half–just before the ship was due to leave port. Zizi moved slowly and wore dark coverings over her eyes for another half cycle after that, claiming to suffer from ‘an overhang of cyberjacking’. She recovered after a single sleep cycle, and all in the ship returned to normal.

Still, as stressful as these few incidents were, Zizi was overall a very useful crew member. She worked hard, and was cheerful, and her good cheer transferred to all the crew. They all loved their Zizi, especially the younger crew, even though she was human.

Her good cheer was so ubiquitous, it became immediately obvious when it left her. This was five and six supply depot stops after the stressful invasion of ‘Zizi’s people’, a little over halfway through Zizi’s annual contract. Zizi requested time away from the ship at the fourth stop, and returned with frustration tinting her pseudo mood spots. She began to show anxiety before the fifth, again requested time away from the ship, and returned with her pseudo-mood-spots glowing with orange anxiety and bleeding into fear. Her anxiety increased before the sixth, and Captain Diii of course granted her the time she needed away from the ship.

None of her careful research could tell her why a previously happy human might become stressed, when nothing in the ship had changed. Truly, there was not much known of them other than their battle prowess and propensity toward boarding ships going the direction they wished to go.

Zizi was furious when she returned. Her long angular limbs moved sharply, pseudo-mood-spots flashing warning, and all the crew scattered away from her in terror. Zizi kicked the wall three times as soon as she was within the ship, her heavy boots leaving dents. She slammed her fists against the wall and screamed, a high and horrible sound. Taa, heavy now with gestating zygotes and so having the strongest protective instincts, fell to the floor, limbs curled in tight as she went catatonic in self-preservation, and she was only the first. Many of the younger crew followed her example. Captain Diii felt the instinct herself, but she straightened her limbs and respirated carefully, drawing on her captain’s training to resist it.

Then Zizi crumpled to the floor, as though mortally wounded. She barked, shoulders heaving. It was only when Diii gathered the presence of mind to realize that her mood implants were showing utter misery that she realized what Zizi was doing was the human ‘crying’, and not ‘laughing’. It was a thing that humans did when very distressed.

Captain Diii approached cautiously. “Crew Zizi? What is the reason for this distress?” she quarried. She reached out, carefully, to pat Zizi’s warm shoulder with one grasper.

Zizi turned to face her, flopping over to sit on the floor rather than kneel. Her eyes were overflowing with water, and she made a loud wet noise with her nose before wiping them with her sleeve. Then she seemed to notice the catatonic crew, and dropped her head down between her knees. Her mood implants looked more miserable than Diii had ever seen, and it only sharpened her own distress.

“Reproduction and excrement, captain. I’m sorry,” Zizi apologized. “I didn’t mean to… I’m ‘distressed’ because I can’t get my girl pills out here. Nowhere’s got them, and my stock’s running out.”

Captain Diii patted Zizi’s shoulder again, more lingeringly this time. It did not feel wrong, to take such a liberty, and it did seem to ease the sharpness of Zizi’s misery. And when Zizi reached up, covering Diii’s grasper with her own to hold it close, that did not feel wrong either.

“You require a ‘pills’?” Diii asked. “May I ask a clarification?”

“Yeah, it’s… reproduction, how would you understand it?” Zizi made the loud wet sound with her nose again, a sharp inhale. “They help me keep the right morph? I’d grow into a different one otherwise.”

“To be honest, human Zizi, it is very difficult to tell your official morphs apart.” The way the humans classified themselves defied all logic.

“Yeah, I know.” Zizi looked up at Diii, her mouth turning up on the edges just a bit, though her eyes were reddened and wet. “That’s part of why I love traveling with you guys. You take me at my word, what morph I am. But… it matters to me that my body doesn’t grow wrong?”

“Then it is a matter of crew wellness,” Captain Diii decided, firmly. She gave Zizi’s shoulder a squeeze. “You must tell me exactly what these ‘pills’ are, and we will send an urgent message ahead to our next depot requisitioning them. It must be paid for from the health and safety budget, of course. You are an important member of the crew.”

Zizi’s mouth fell open, her teeth showing behind her lax lips. She blinked at Captain Diii, mood implants showing shock and then a burst of joy as her eyes began to overflow again.

“I really need to hug you,” she said, and wrapped her long arms around Diii’s middle. She rested her head against Diii’s central bulk, like a hatchling seeking safety, and it felt very natural to Diii to wrap several graspers around her to hold her close.

“You’re the best, Captain. Just the best,” Zizi said. Best based on what rubric, she did not clarify, but human speech was well known to be full of hyperbole.

“You are most satisfactory as a crew member,” Captain Diii assured Zizi. “Now, will you help to revive the catatonic crew? I believe some of your ‘chai’ would go well, after such excitement.”

“Yes, Captain.” Zizi released Diii from the ‘hug’ and levered herself to her feet, then bent down to press one of her human ‘kiss’ to the top of Diii’s head. She wiped her eyes one last time, gave a salute, and headed for the kitchen.

There. The crisis was ended, as quickly as it had begun. Diii had no doubt that Zizi would prove as adept at soothing and reviving catatonic crew as she was everything else she set her hand to.

Though difficulties like this were bound to arise any time different species shared a space, Zizi’s inclusion in the crew could only be calculated to an overall benefit.

Captain Diii was more than lucky to have hired her before some other crew snapped her up.

.

FIN

I hope you enjoyed. I don’t think I have any more Zizi and Diii stories to share.

Love my writing? My first novel has some very fun humans and aliens cohabitating (and loving each other), if that’s your jam.
You can preorder it [here]!

Tags:

#storytime #aliens #long post

Solar System 10 Things: Looking Back at Pluto

~ Brin ~ Leave a comment

nasa:

In July 2015, we saw Pluto up close for the first time and—after three years of intense study—the surprises keep coming. “It’s clear,” says Jeffery Moore, New Horizons’ geology team lead, “Pluto is one of the most amazing and complex objects in our solar system.”

1. An Improving View

tumblr_inline_pbyxbxtjbn1tzhl5u_540

These are combined observations of Pluto over the course of several decades. The first frame is a digital zoom-in on Pluto as it appeared upon its discovery by Clyde Tombaugh in 1930. More frames show of Pluto as seen by the Hubble Space Telescope. The final sequence zooms in to a close-up frame of Pluto taken by our New Horizons spacecraft on July 14, 2015.

2. The Heart

tumblr_inline_pbyxfsxwin1tzhl5u_540

Pluto’s surface sports a remarkable range of subtle colors are enhanced in this view to a rainbow of pale blues, yellows, oranges, and deep reds. Many landforms have their own distinct colors, telling a complex geological and climatological story that scientists have only just begun to decode. The image resolves details and colors on scales as small as 0.8 miles (1.3 kilometers). Zoom in on the full resolution image on a larger screen to fully appreciate the complexity of Pluto’s surface features.

3. The Smiles

tumblr_inline_pbyxgsyhfz1tzhl5u_540

July 14, 2015: New Horizons team members Cristina Dalle Ore, Alissa Earle and Rick Binzel react to seeing the spacecraft’s last and sharpest image of Pluto before closest approach.

4. Majestic Mountains

tumblr_inline_pbz0w2vjun1tzhl5u_540

Just 15 minutes after its closest approach to Pluto, the New Horizons spacecraft captured this near-sunset view of the rugged, icy mountains and flat ice plains extending to Pluto’s horizon. The backlighting highlights more than a dozen layers of haze in Pluto’s tenuous atmosphere. The image was taken from a distance of 11,000 miles (18,000 kilometers) to Pluto; the scene is 780 miles (1,250 kilometers) wide.

5. Icy Dunes

tumblr_inline_pbyxuogpsj1tzhl5u_540

Found near the mountains that encircle Pluto’s Sputnik Planitia plain, newly discovered ridges appear to have formed out of particles of methane ice as small as grains of sand, arranged into dunes by wind from the nearby mountains.

6. Glacial Plains

tumblr_inline_pbyxvgvamm1tzhl5u_540

The vast nitrogen ice plains of Pluto’s Sputnik Planitia – the western half of Pluto’s “heart”—continue to give up secrets. Scientists processed images of Sputnik Planitia to bring out intricate, never-before-seen patterns in the surface textures of these glacial plains.

7. Colorful and Violent Charon

tumblr_inline_pbyxvyxrzk1tzhl5u_540

High resolution images of Pluto’s largest moon, Charon, show a surprisingly complex and violent history. Scientists expected Charon to be a monotonous, crater-battered world; instead, they found a landscape covered with mountains, canyons, landslides, surface-color variations and more.

8. Ice Volcanoes

tumblr_inline_pbyxwmudwi1tzhl5u_540

One of two potential cryovolcanoes spotted on the surface of Pluto by the New Horizons spacecraft. This feature, known as Wright Mons, was informally named by the New Horizons team in honor of the Wright brothers. At about 90 miles (150 kilometers) across and 2.5 miles (4 kilometers) high, this feature is enormous. If it is in fact an ice volcano, as suspected, it would be the largest such feature discovered in the outer solar system.

9. Blue Rays

tumblr_inline_pbz0wrroj21tzhl5u_540

Pluto’s receding crescent as seen by New Horizons at a distance of 120,000 miles (200,000 kilometers). Scientists believe the spectacular blue haze is a photochemical smog resulting from the action of sunlight on methane and other molecules in Pluto’s atmosphere. These hydrocarbons accumulate into small haze particles, which scatter blue sunlight—the same process that can make haze appear bluish on Earth.

10. Encore

tumblr_inline_pbyxxwxhdb1tzhl5u_540

On Jan. 1, 2019, New Horizons will fly past a small Kuiper Belt Object named MU69 (nicknamed Ultima Thule)—a billion miles (1.5 billion kilometers) beyond Pluto and more than four billion miles (6.5 billion kilometers) from Earth. It will be the most distant encounter of an object in history—so far—and the second time New Horizons has revealed never-before-seen landscapes.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space: http://nasa.tumblr.com.

Tags:

#ooh #I didn’t know about the Kuiper Belt Extended Mission #Pluto #space #the power of science #the more you know #long post

~ Brin ~ 3 Comments

@sinesalvatorem, I was going to reblog your post [link], but I figure giving poverty advice in a reblog when the OP is about how one shouldn’t give poverty advice is asking for trouble (especially when OP has relatively few notes), so I’m pinging you on a fresh post instead.

—

>>On that note, if anyone who reads this has any life hacks wrt saving money or earning extra income, or knows online resources that have compiled a bunch of them, please tell me! I already know of quite a few, but I’m always looking for more.<<

Hey, look, a special interest!

(or, well, part special interest, part coping mechanism)

—

(Disclaimers: I acknowledge that for any or all of these things, you [may already do them]/[may not find them worthwhile]/[may not be able to do them at all]. If anything in the rest of this post sounds like I don’t, that’s just because it’s sometimes easier to get the words out that way.

A more specific version that I feel is particularly worth pointing out: while I have had plenty of financial difficulties and qualify as “poor” by many definitions, I have never (quite) been *broke*. Some of these tips will be stuff like “how to spend $800 in one day in order to avoid spending $1,400 over four months”, and if you never have $800 on hand at any given time feel free to ignore that (though maybe file them away for if/when you reach a point in your life where you can afford to tie up some money for a while in order to spend less in the long run).)

—

This has been kind of a recurring theme on my blog lately, but: housemates are so important. Finances are best played as a team sport: going it alone is sadly necessary in some situations, but it’s definitely Hard Mode, and being poor is hard enough as it is without adding more difficulty modifiers on top of it.

(It *is* painful to have to watch people you share finances with spend money in ways you don’t approve of, but–I remind myself at such times–it’s still completely worth it for all the bulk discounts and such you can get. (Although I’m sure there are *some* people out there somewhere who are careless enough with money that this would not be true, and obviously you don’t want to share finances with such people.))

—

People hate on Uber-type things a lot, but honestly, they really can be a lifesaver. Delivery gigs are what tipped us over into being in the black for March†. (Up ~CAD$230 over the course of that month! God, it’d been *so* long since our money had been on any kind of upward trend for any significant length of time.) Some companies in some places will also hire bicyclist or even pedestrian delivery freelancers.

—

People also hate on advice to avoid bank-related fees because sometimes when you’re poor they’re unavoidable, but it’s still worth checking that each fee really *is* unavoidable before resorting to it.

(You know why I switched from annual statements to quarterly? Because I found out while preparing the 2017 statement that my parents had gone below their minimum chequing-account balance (which incurs a CAD$11 fee for each month it happens) *eleven months* out of the year, and had been quietly shouldering it *even though the household as a whole had enough money to cover everyone’s minimum balances*: it was just disproportionately in the kids’ accounts because at the time only the kids were employed. I immediately insisted on providing my parents with an informal, indefinite loan to help them cover their balance††, and started doing more frequent statements so we can catch shit like that sooner.

(Apparently Dad was embarrassed and Mom didn’t want to ~burden~ her children when she was ~supposed~ to be providing for them. And I was like “You can use the money you’re saving in bank fees towards buying me food.”))

—

You make a remark about the restaurants in San Francisco being expensive, and of course in this part of Tumblr I hear plenty about how high the rents are. To what extent does the Bay have generally high prices across the board (or for groceries in particular: grocery prices are about to be important), and how far away do you have to get from the Bay for things to stop having that markup?

The New York trick (travel to an area with a lower cost of living, stock up on cheap groceries to bring back) is harder in a place with no nearby-ish country borders or similar clear markers of “you are now entering the Cheap Zone”, but it might still be doable there.

(I think the trick used by people who *live* in Cheap Zones is to use coupons *intended* for places with higher costs of living (with discounts sized accordingly), but which are technically valid there. Occasionally these can even be stacked: Mom almost always brings some coupons (from American websites) to New York.)

—

Target does ad-matching: if you show them that another store’s flyer has a sale on a certain food, they will sell you that food at the other store’s sale price, letting you avoid the hassle and transportation costs of running all over town chasing deals. (note that Target does not match produce) The Flipp app [link] will give you the flyers for a (U.S. or Canada) postal code of your choice.

Walmart does not do ad-matching as such (in America; Canadian Walmarts still do it), but if you scan your Walmart receipt into their app, they will issue you an e-gift card for the amount you *would* have saved if they allowed it.

There might be other stores in your particular area that do matching, but these are the only ones I found when I was looking this up in an Arizonan context recently. It seems to be less common in America than it is in Canada.

—

Running ad videos and occasionally doing other stuff through Swagbucks is a nice way to get a bit of supplemental income. I recently helped Mom write a guide to using it [link], so I will direct you there. (please use the referral links, I’d very much appreciate it)

—

If you have anything that gives you a discount on Amazon purchases and/or generates income in the form of Amazon credit (like, say, Swagbucks), bear in mind that Amazon has an ever-expanding selection of other stores’ gift cards [link] (including, notably, Safeway [link]), almost all of which can be purchased using Amazon credit.

—

There’s this one program of incentives to encourage lower electricity use during peak periods [link] that I keep getting ads for from advertisers who don’t realise I’m not Torontonian, which is only available in Toronto and parts of California (weird list, I know). Is that applicable to you, or likely to become so?

—

I haven’t done any freelance audio transcription for Rev [link] in a while, but you might be better suited to it than I am. (Maybe your picking-out-what-people-are-saying-at-crowded-parties ability would help you here?)

—

>>At one point, I even had a list of which staple items are cheaper at which stores, but homelessness means I keep moving too much for that to ever stay relevant.<<

Some grocery stores let you look up their prices online, making it easier to collect data for such lists and less painful (relatively) to keep making new ones for new places.

—

I recently systematically went through the websites of every cell company available in this area and determined the single best phone plan for getting our house phone to do everything we currently need it to do while paying as little as possible, and I am very glad I did. If we hadn’t been careful, we could easily have ended up paying twice as much or more.

Unfortunately, there is essentially zero overlap between my available cell companies and yours, so I can’t just skip you to the end result of “Public Mobile is great; Freedom Mobile *might* be even better *if* you’re planning to only use your phone in cities”: you’d have to either do the comparisons yourself or find somebody more local who’s done it.

—

Some restaurants and the occasional grocery store will give you free food on your birthday. The selection is heavily location-dependant; there are various websites listing the available things for a given place (example: https://www.favoritecandle.com/free-birthday-meals/San-Francisco/CA), though their information is often out of date and you’ll need to check with each restaurant’s own website. Most require newsletter signups (I have a dedicated email address specifically for newsletters from people who might give me free stuff); many require you to buy something else in order to receive the freebie with it, but there are a few that are outright free (except transportation costs, of course: plan your route carefully, and ideally have them be on the way to somewhere you were going anyway). Last year I got a muffin (Starbucks) and a large fruit slushie (Booster Juice): this year Starbucks has unfortunately stopped offering freebies unless you buy at least one thing from them per year (any time during the year, though, not specifically your birthday! still suitable for lots of people!), but I’ve found a couple more newsletters and am set up to get a bag of chocolate-covered almonds (Giant Tiger) and a hamburger (Harvey’s), plus another slushie. (And who knows, maybe I’ll end up at Starbucks at some point between now and November and regain muffin eligibility for this year.)

(maryellencarter, if you’re reading this, note that I’m planning to give you a pre-sifted list of these for your birthday: you don’t need to go figuring this out yourself. I’ll probably compile and send it in October sometime, so that there’ll be less time for circumstances to change while still leaving room for the restaurants to consider you to have been on their newsletter for a sufficient length of time beforehand.)

—

My finances tag, “adventures in human capitalism”, might have some other stuff that I missed or covered in less detail here.

—

†I don’t have a good picture of our finances after March yet: I’ve switched to preparing quarterly financial statements (formerly annual), but I haven’t finished collecting and processing the data from Q2, so right now it’s scattered around various bank accounts and credit-card records of four different people and I can’t see what it’s like overall.

††Honestly, I don’t really care whether they pay it back or not. Money used for things beneficial to me is mine for all practical purposes, and I’m not too concerned with whose bank account it happens to be in. (Mom expressed her gratitude at my “selflessness” recently, but I’m *really* not selfless: I’m just very aware that working together is in my own best interest. I don’t make anywhere near enough to survive alone: hell, often I can’t even contribute an equal share towards the group’s expenses, and have to find non-income ways to contribute like accounting and pest control. (I’ve gotten pretty good at killing houseflies. As long as they’re up against a window they’re easy.))

Tags:

#this post technically qualifies as: #oh look an original post #but is closer to the spirit of: #reply via reblog #adventures in human capitalism #long post #death mention #food #home of the brave #our home and cherished land

{{next post in sequence}}