Took a nap and had a dream that I’d gotten a hyperrealistic tattoo of a Band Aid, just so that I could cover it with a real Band Aid.
When people would ask what happened, I’d say, “It’s kind of weird. Are you sure you wanna’ see?” and then I’d dramatically rip the Band Aid off to reveal my tattoo of a Band Aid.
#oh my god #I never expected to see fandom memes for this story but here it is #Almost Nowhere #I didn’t actually laugh aloud but it still amused me enough to reblog
#(h/t slatestarscratchpad) #Middle Earth #art #fanart #oh my god #(note: I cannot read tengwar and can only *assume* that this is the One Ring inscription) #((edit: have received word from a tengwar-reading friend that this is indeed the One Ring inscription))
You turn on the radio one morning to find another one of those Rap songs where every 4th word is a swear. Naturally the Radio bleeps it out, but you realize that it sounds familiar. You realize that the rappers are speaking in Morse code.
Your eyes widen as you swerve over onto the shoulder of the expressway, nearly hitting a Jeep Cherokee in the process. It didn’t matter to you. Frantically searching the glove compartment, the backseat, and your purse, you finally find a small notepad and a pen with a low ink cartridge. You listen closely to the radio, and begin to scribble down as much as you can. You realize it was merely a pattern.
— -. . / – .– — / – .– — / ..-. .. ..-. – -.–
Unfortunately for you, you aren’t very well versed in translating Morse code, merely recognizing it. You reach into your purse to grab your phone, but after a moment of searching, you realize you had left it at home before you left for work. “God damnit,” you mutter. You’re more than halfway to your office, and you’re already running late due to the fact that that you decided to follow some whim and jot down some cryptic message from a provocative rapper. Concluding that it would probably be best for you to mosey to work, you pull back onto the expressway and try to make it to work on time.
Upon arriving at work, you ask any coworker in sight if they know Morse code. Nobody seems to, and some don’t even know what Morse code is. You slump your shoulders in disappointment and head over to your desk, when suddenly, the quiet, mouse-like secretary clears her throat and says, “Excuse me, I know Morse code!”
You turn around with the same wide eyes as before. “You do!?” you ask vigorous excitement, which seems to startle the young woman.
“Yes,” she says, “when I was younger, I planned on joining the navy, so I taught it to myself.” You feel a bit sorry for her, that she wound up as a mere secretary instead of a naval officer, but that feeling of pity didn’t stop you from being grateful for the lucky coincidence of her knowing Morse code. You show her the pattern.
— -. . / – .– — / – .– — / ..-. .. ..-. – -.–
“That’s all there is?” she asks, furrowing her brow.
“Yeah,” you shrugged, “it just kept repeating that over and over again. What does it say?”
“One, two, two, fifty.”
Your heart sinks a little. “What is that? What does that mean, is it like a phone number or house address or something?”
The secretary shrugs. “I’m really sorry, I don’t know. It’s too short to be a phone number, but beyond deciphering it, I’m afraid I can’t help you.”
You nod slowly, and though you understand, you are still not at all satisfied. You go to sit at your desk. 1 2 2 50. The sequence plays over and over in your head all day, and needless to say, your curiosity an wonderment got the best of you. It was not a very productive work day.
You head home, and the same damned song plays on the radio. You shake your head as if that would make the song stop, then decide to plug 12250 into your GPS to see if there are any autofill results. None. You become increasingly frustrated.
When you get home, your daughter is sitting at the kitchen table, working on homework. She runs up to you and gives you a big hug, and asks about your day at work. You put on a fake smile and sigh. “Interesting,” you say— no doubt sugarcoating the intense excitement, disappointment, and confusion.
“Will you help me with my homework? I have to memorize something for my history class tomorrow.”
“Of course, doll! What are you memorizing?”
She hands you a laminated sheet of paper. “Roman numerals!”
You glance over the page, your eyes quickly darting from one, to two, to fifty.
It dawns on you. You’d recognize this pattern anywhere.
For those like me who read this and who had no fucking clue what the point was, here is the explanation. (Apparently you have to know a certain meme well for this to make sense.)
Starfleet’s HIDING the TRUTH from us! If you travel too fast you BECOME a NEWT! There’s a universe where we’re all evil and bi and into leather! Starfleet built a SHIP that ran on MUSHROOMS and they’re KEEPING IT SECRET!!!
Everyone: Get a load of this guy! He probably thinks Sisko killed that Romulan too. Truthers
Tags:
#Star Trek #conspiracy theories #oh my god #(I had to look up the mushroom thing) #(apparently that’s from Discovery) #(which I have not had a chance to see)
Very_Dumb.png. A flag made of a black field, with a blue diagonal bar, and a centered, transparent punch-out in the shape of a diamond. The dashboard probably makes it look white, but it’s transparent.
This is simultaneously the greatest and worst thing I’ve ever made in my life.
On the one had, it’s an abomination.
On the other hand, technically speaking, there is nothing about this that could not easily–trivially–be re-created in fabrics. As long as the transparent section is sufficiently simple, such that the hems could be adequately re-enforced, there’s no reason you couldn’t treat it like any other emblem.
Oh my god, I feel like I’ve ascended to some kind of higher plane of existence.
I mean, we put transparent windows in money, we know it can be done… Clear vinyl is absolutely a thing, and it’s relatively easy to source for most people…
Holy shit.
I’m losing my goddamn mind.
What the fuck?
?????
?????????
That said, I don’t trust the people who run around making palette flags to use this terrible, awesome power responsibly. I can already see the semi-transparent gradients from here, and it’s horrifying.
Tags:
#flags #art #oh my god #I am picturing a flag with a window in the middle waving in the breeze over a grocery store and it is beautiful
There’s a subreddit called r/totallynotrobots where people pretend to be badly-disguised robots. They post cat pictures with captions like “SINCE I AM A HUMAN, THIS SMALL FELINE GENERATES POSITIVE EMOTIONS IN MY CARBON-BASED BRAIN” or something like that.
There’s another subreddit called r/SubSimulatorGPT2, that trains GPT-2 on various subreddits to create imitations of their output.
Now r/SubSimulatorGPT2 has gotten to r/totallynotrobots, which means we get to see a robot pretending to be a human pretending to be a robot pretending to be a human.
SCP-099 is a multi-purpose magnetic hexagon, measuring 1.2cm in diameter, that can be inserted into any suitable material. It is able to be placed in any suitable material, which will cause it to dissolve whatever materials are placed within its field of view. This behavior is unique amongst all hexagons, as it manifests without warning, leading to confusion, and sometimes physical and spatial distortion.
In addition, SCP-099 will also “teleport” to the locations where SCP-099 is visible to all observers. This phenomenon will continue for 64 seconds until SCP-099 is removed, at which point the effect will end.
An entire catalogue of astonishingly almost-coherent AI-generated SCPs. Plus tales. Check it out.
SCP-960 is faded, mostly black and white, which translates to “Happy Employment Times!!!” Yet due to irregularities in record-keeping and the numerous deaths of people who have attempted to use it, it is unknown if this is as true as it could be.
GPT, master of understatement.
holy shit, that’s so good
Tags:
#oh my god #anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #computer generated text #(<–to the best of my knowledge that is the warning tag for such things) #GPT #SCP #death tw
Brinens and Things 