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probablyasocialecologist · 1 year ago

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The flotsam and jetsam of our digital queries and transactions, the flurry of electrons flitting about, warm the medium of air. Heat is the waste product of computation, and if left unchecked, it becomes a foil to the workings of digital civilization. Heat must therefore be relentlessly abated to keep the engine of the digital thrumming in a constant state, 24 hours a day, every day. To quell this thermodynamic threat, data centers overwhelmingly rely on air conditioning, a mechanical process that refrigerates the gaseous medium of air, so that it can displace or lift perilous heat away from computers. Today, power-hungry computer room air conditioners (CRACs) or computer room air handlers (CRAHs) are staples of even the most advanced data centers. In North America, most data centers draw power from “dirty” electricity grids, especially in Virginia’s “data center alley,” the site of 70 percent of the world’s internet traffic in 2019. To cool, the Cloud burns carbon, what Jeffrey Moro calls an “elemental irony.” In most data centers today, cooling accounts for greater than 40 percent of electricity usage.

[...]

The Cloud now has a greater carbon footprint than the airline industry. A single data center can consume the equivalent electricity of 50,000 homes. At 200 terawatt hours (TWh) annually, data centers collectively devour more energy than some nation-states. Today, the electricity utilized by data centers accounts for 0.3 percent of overall carbon emissions, and if we extend our accounting to include networked devices like laptops, smartphones, and tablets, the total shifts to 2 percent of global carbon emissions. Why so much energy? Beyond cooling, the energy requirements of data centers are vast. To meet the pledge to customers that their data and cloud services will be available anytime, anywhere, data centers are designed to be hyper-redundant: If one system fails, another is ready to take its place at a moment’s notice, to prevent a disruption in user experiences. Like Tom’s air conditioners idling in a low-power state, ready to rev up when things get too hot, the data center is a Russian doll of redundancies: redundant power systems like diesel generators, redundant servers ready to take over computational processes should others become unexpectedly unavailable, and so forth. In some cases, only 6 to 12 percent of energy consumed is devoted to active computational processes. The remainder is allocated to cooling and maintaining chains upon chains of redundant fail-safes to prevent costly downtime.

#computers #cloud #data #cloud computing #climate change

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coldshrugs · 11 months ago

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ffxivwrite - prompt 4: reticent

characters: estinien varlineau, hamignant varlineau, and featuring my wol, io laithe word count: 1921 rating: mature for mentions of bullying & death. summary: three short, heavily headcanoned scenes from estinien's life, at ages 12, 21, and 33. [middle section heavily inspired by this art] posted 9/5/24 | updated 10/11/24

“I challenge you, Ser, to a trial by combat! Take up your arms and fight me!”

“And what is my crime this time?”

Hamignant, small as he is, brandishes his stick threateningly, but all that swagger is betrayed by an answer that comes out slower than usual. Shaky, even. “You don’t play with me anymore.”

Estinien shifts his weight, leaning a bit more heavily on the tall crook. A stone of guilt sinks in his stomach, so he distracts himself by watching the shallow valley just below the hill they stand on and the sheep grazing there. It is late spring and their coats are full and fluffy, ready for shearing. His twelfth nameday was less than a moon ago and he is expected to help with the task this year. His parents rely on him more now, sending him on errands usually tended by his father, giving him additional fieldwork. It isn’t easy, but it feels good to be trusted.

In truth, he would very much like to continue playing with Hamignant. His little brother has a knack for making games of their chores, and should they be caught goofing off, his wit is quick enough to make even the most stern adult smile.

Estinien does not share his talent for conversation, but Hamignant never seems to mind. He is content to babble so long as Estinien is close by to listen.

The stick—his foraged sword—wriggles closer. Closer. Until it pokes into Estinien’s cheek.

His gaze slides sideways, to Hamignant’s dramatic stance. It would be funny if not for the serious set of his brow, the tight purse of his lips, and the sheen welling in his eyes. Halone bless him, he truly is upset…

Estinien shifts again, batting the stick away with his crook, and smiles at Hamignant. “Then fight me, little knight, but take care to hide your bruises from Mother and Father.”

With a cheer of delight and an expression that makes Estinien proud he put it there, Hamignant begins their spar. Their wooden weapons echo across the meadow, sharp cracks followed by the occasional shriek or grunt when their limbs take a hit.

“Ow!” Estinien pauses to nurse a sore knuckle in his mouth. Hamignant celebrates, jumping on the spot before reenacting the flashy maneuver in the air between them. His victory doesn’t last—Estinien topples him and sends them both rolling down the hill in a fit of laughter.

They land fulms away from the sheep. Some come over to sniff them, like curious friends checking for injuries. Hamignant reaches up to pet snouts, red cheeks stretched in an open smile.

Estinien lies back to catch his breath. Clouds drift overhead in lazy wisps, and the grass tickles his neck and ankles as a warm breeze passes through the meadow. He closes his eyes, listening to the soft bleating of his charges, and even though his knuckle still throbs, he is happy.

“We should make a pact, Es,” Hamignant says, and his excited voice does not negate the sense of peace. “When we grow up, let’s both be knights. We can live in Ishgard and wear armor, protect beautiful maidens from harm, and fight dragons!”

“Best not to wish for dragons, Hami, like Mother says.” He chews his bottom lip. “Besides, I don’t want to be a knight. I like living here. Someone must stay and care for the farm.”

Hamignant’s smile sags. “Fine,” he pouts, though he looks less defeated than before. “You can stay in Ferndale all your days, and I’ll be a great knight of Ishgard. I will come home every Starlight and tell you about my adventures. That could still be fun, right?”

Estinien grins and rights himself, then offers a hand to help his brother up as well. “The finest plan you’ve ever had.”

At age twenty-one, Estinien is still getting used to his height.

Hitting striking dummies with Alberic is one thing—they don’t dodge, and they don’t hit back. And sparring with his unit is pitiable right now, as many of them adjust to growing bodies. It is something else entirely to swing the unfamiliar length of his arm at a sneering face, or struggle to take an unwieldy step backward before the very real fist meets his cheek. To fight and defend himself seriously.

He hits the training yard dirt with a weak groan that is all but drowned out by a roar of laughter. His ears ring from the impact. Four soldiers, all fledglings like himself, still in a training unit, stand over him.

“And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay down, Varlineau.” The one that threw the punch. Taller than he is, and stronger, and probably some noble’s son or nephew. It’s been a few moons since his official enlistment, but Estinien has not learned their names. He is here for one reason, and he cannot make room for useless information. And why should he, when another puts a foot on his chest as he tries to stand?

They erupt again over such a hard-won victory.

“We heard you last night, whimpering in your bunk like a freshly-weened babe. That the Azure Dragoon should waste his time with you,” one scoffs.

“No better than an orphaned Brume brat. We should drag you back to Ferndale and let Nidhogg know he missed one—”

The ankle holding him down makes a sickening snap when he twists it. Striking dummies certainly don’t do that. The boy goes down with a pained scream.

Estinien stands. He says nothing, only wipes his bloody nose with the back of his hand, then swings.

He spends three days in the gaol, and they do not bother him again.

He’s been in this room too long. His body is stiff from disuse, even with the daily practice of simple stretches. By chirurgeon’s orders, he has been forbidden from any activities that might reopen his wounds.

By fucking Halone and all the rest, he is bored.

At least he doesn’t want for company—that is not to say company has ever been a strong craving for him, of course. But Estinien could do worse than the Warrior of Light making her near-daily visit, even if it’s simply because this is the single place in Ishgard where she might escape the pitying gazes and prying questions about her… entanglement with Greystone. He enjoys a few hours of quiet, tolerable companionship, and she has a moment of privacy; an even exchange, in his mind.

Io sits in a ratty armchair, legs curled under her, by a sunny window so thickly lined with sympathy flowers, the room resembles the Holy Gardens of the Vault. Or, more kindly, the meadows ringing Ferndale in late spring. She wears the evidence of mourning around her eyes, red-rimmed and darkened bags from lack of decent sleep. He knows the look well. Still, the backdrop suits her.

Today, she knits, softly humming to herself in time to the rhythmic click of the needles. She’s lost in it, and her silence is appreciated. They talk during these visits, yes, but it isn’t like before. He thought her a friend before Aymeric’s mad plan shook their lives. Now… “friend” seems both too frivolous and too forward. They’re vulnerable in this room, Io grieving her lover, Estinien bandaged and weak—vulnerable, but distant.

He misses how they were before.

So he watches the wool slipping between her fingers with each meticulous loop, the way the half-formed garment hangs heavy from her hands. And all of it—the dappled light on the flowers, the repetitive scratch of Io’s work and wordless song, the weight of wool he used to know well, the herbaceous scent of medicinal salve rising from his wounds—dredges up the memory of another life. If Estinien closes his eyes, it could be twenty-one years ago. He could be there, if only for a moment, if only as a visitor.

Grief wails inside him. It is the roar he’s felt for years, through the Eye he used as a tool. Strange, to feel it now as part of himself, bottomless and inconsolable and so full of love. Stranger still to realize they were not so different in the end.

When was the last time he’s cried? Estinien is barely aware of where the tears trail down his cheeks, numb to everything but the homesick ache he has fought for half his life. He rubs his face before Io has the chance to see him.

“Io.” Estinien clears his throat. With her head still tilted towards her craft, Io’s eyes shift to meet his. “There is something I would ask.”

She pauses, waiting for his question.

“Why did you save me?”

Her answer comes in the form of a furrowed brow. She continues knitting without a word.

“I was ready. I was. And now? I don’t know how to be, I don’t know how to live without it. I’m unfit for anything else.”

Io’s lips thin a bit, tightening into a frustrated line, as she works. She shakes her head. Maybe she’s angry he asked. For all he lacks as a conversationalist, he is an expert in offending, even when he doesn’t mean to.

He lifts himself off the pillows piled at his back, ignoring the fire in his shoulder.

“You could’ve left me, or killed me. I feel him, Io. The echo of his loss; when it hits me… Io, you could’ve killed me.” The words leave him in a rush, riding the swell of pain that belongs to him and the adamant traces of Nidhogg that are part of him now.

Her sigh shames him. “Kill a man—my friend—when he doesn’t want to die? Let you fall to anguish and pain?" She lays the needles in her lap and her dark gaze all but dares him to argue. He’s never heard her speak with such a firm certainty. “No, Estinien, I could never have done that. Nidhogg’s isn’t the only grief you carry, nor are his memories the only ones worth saving.”

Silence encloses them, balancing on the knife’s edge of comfort and unease. Neither looks away. He counts the agitated rise and fall of Io’s chest until they are breathing in sync, then until both are steady.

With the softer tone he recognizes, she says, “We all need reminding that burdens, even ones as heavy as this, can be shared.”

Her mere presence gives the lie to his words. He would’ve done the same, if it were her. He sags back into his pillows, exhaustion replacing the wyrm’s overwhelming emotion.

And they return to the shred of peace they fought for. Io hums, and the needles click, and that is enough. He listens, occasionally mustering a courageous glance, and thinks about the uncertain future until the rays of sunlight tilt his direction instead of hers.

“I think it’s time to get on.”

“Me?” Io’s lips stretch into a crooked smile over the yarn. “Fine, I’ll kill you next time.”

His laugh is rough and unfamiliar sounding, closer to a cough. It hurts his broken ribs.

Io’s raspy chuckle is a far more pleasant sound. “Where will you go?”

Estinien sighs. He knows where he wants to go. The question is whether he will be welcome. “If it’s all the same, that is my business alone.”

Io nods and does not push the matter. Hm. There is always another question… In the absence of one, something settles in him… A sense of solace he didn’t know he was allowed.

So he confesses: “To make amends.”

#azia writes #ffxivwrite2024 #estinien varlineau #hamignant varlineau #io laithe #this has been living with me for a long time and i'm actually really pleased to get it out!!!!

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blueiscoool · 1 year ago

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More than 200 Survivors of Mount Vesuvius Eruption Discovered in Ancient Roman Records

After Mount Vesuvius erupted, survivors from the Roman cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum fled, starting new lives elsewhere.

On Aug. 24, in A.D. 79, Mount Vesuvius erupted, shooting over 3 cubic miles of debris up to 20 miles (32.1 kilometers) in the air. As the ash and rock fell to Earth, it buried the ancient cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum.

According to most modern accounts, the story pretty much ends there: Both cities were wiped out, their people frozen in time.

It only picks up with the rediscovery of the cities and the excavations that started in earnest in the 1740s.

But recent research has shifted the narrative. The story of the eruption of Mount Vesuvius is no longer one about annihilation; it also includes the stories of those who survived the eruption and went on to rebuild their lives.

The search for survivors and their stories has dominated the past decade of my archaeological fieldwork, as I’ve tried to figure out who might have escaped the eruption. Some of my findings are featured in an episode of the new PBS documentary, “Pompeii: The New Dig.”

Making it out alive:

Pompeii and Herculaneum were two wealthy cities on the coast of Italy just south of Naples. Pompeii was a community of about 30,000 people that hosted thriving industry and active political and financial networks. Herculaneum, with a population of about 5,000, had an active fishing fleet and a number of marble workshops. Both economies supported the villas of wealthy Romans in the surrounding countryside.

In popular culture, the eruption is usually depicted as an apocalyptic event with no survivors: In episodes of the TV series “Doctor Who” and “Loki,” everyone in Pompeii and Herculaneum dies.

But the evidence that people could have escaped was always there.

The eruption itself continued for over 18 hours. The human remains found in each city account for only a fraction of their populations, and many objects you might have expected to have remained and be preserved in ash are missing: Carts and horses are gone from stables, ships missing from docks, and strongboxes cleaned out of money and jewelry.

All of this suggests that many – if not most – of the people in the cities could have escaped if they fled early enough.

Some archaeologists have always assumed that some people escaped. But searching for them has never been a priority.

So I created a methodology to determine if survivors could be found. I took Roman names unique to Pompeii or Herculaneum – such as Numerius Popidius and Aulus Umbricius – and searched for people with those names who lived in surrounding communities in the period after the eruption. I also looked for additional evidence, such as improved infrastructure in neighboring communities to accommodate migrants.

After eight years of scouring databases of tens of thousands of Roman inscriptions on places ranging from walls to tombstones, I found evidence of over 200 survivors in 12 cities. These municipalities are primarily in the general area of Pompeii. But they tended to be north of Mount Vesuvius, outside the zone of the greatest destruction.

It seems as though most survivors stayed as close as they could to Pompeii. They preferred to settle with other survivors, and they relied on social and economic networks from their original cities as they resettled.

Some migrants prosper:

Some of the families that escaped apparently went on to thrive in their new communities.

The Caltilius family resettled in Ostia – what was then a major port city to the north of Pompeii, 18 miles from Rome. There, they founded a temple to the Egyptian deity Serapis. Serapis, who wore a basket of grain on his head to symbolize the bounty of the earth, was popular in harbor cities like Ostia dominated by the grain trade. Those cities also built a grand, expensive tomb complex decorated with inscriptions and large portraits of family members.

Members of the Caltilius family married into another family of escapees, the Munatiuses. Together, they created a wealthy, successful extended family.

The second-busiest port city in Roman Italy, Puteoli – what’s known as Pozzuoli today – also welcomed survivors from Pompeii. The family of Aulus Umbricius, who was a merchant of garum, a popular fermented fish sauce, resettled there. After reviving the family garum business, Aulus and his wife named their first child born in their adopted city Puteolanus, or “the Puteolanean.”

Others fall on hard times:

Not all the survivors of the eruption were wealthy or went on to find success in their new communities. Some had already been poor to begin with. Others seemed to have lost their family fortunes, perhaps in the eruption itself.

Fabia Secundina from Pompeii – apparently named for her grandfather, a wealthy wine merchant – also ended up in Puteoli. There, she married a gladiator, Aquarius the retiarius, who died at the age of 25, leaving her in dire financial straits.

Three other very poor families from Pompeii – the Avianii, Atilii and Masuri families – survived and settled in a small, poorer community called Nuceria, which goes by Nocera today and is about 10 miles (16.1 kilometers) east of Pompeii.

According to a tombstone that still exists, the Masuri family took in a boy named Avianius Felicio as a foster son. Notably, in the 160 years of Roman Pompeii, there was no evidence of any foster children, and extended families usually took in orphaned children. For this reason, it’s likely that Felicio didn’t have any surviving family members.

This small example illustrates the larger pattern of the generosity of migrants – even impoverished ones – toward other survivors and their new communities. They didn’t just take care of each other; they also donated to the religious and civic institutions of their new homes.

For example, the Vibidia family had lived in Herculaneum. Before it was destroyed by the eruption of Vesuvius, they had given lavishly to help fund various institutions, including a new temple of Venus, the Roman goddess of love, beauty and fertility.

One female family member who survived the eruption appears to have continued the family’s tradition: Once settled in her new community, Beneventum, she donated a very small, poorly made altar to Venus on public land given by the local city council.

How would survivors be treated today?

While the survivors resettled and built lives in their new communities, government played a role as well.

The emperors in Rome invested heavily in the region, rebuilding properties damaged by the eruption and building new infrastructure for displaced populations, including roads, water systems, amphitheaters and temples.

This model for post-disaster recovery can be a lesson for today. The costs of funding the recovery never seems to have been debated. Survivors were not isolated into camps, nor were they forced to live indefinitely in tent cities. There’s no evidence that they encountered discrimination in their new communities.

Instead, all signs indicate that communities welcomed the survivors. Many of them went on to open their own businesses and hold positions in local governments. And the government responded by ensuring that the new populations and their communities had the resources and infrastructure to rebuild their lives.

By Steven L. Tuck.

#More than 200 Survivors of Mount Vesuvius Eruption Discovered in Ancient Roman Records #Pompeii #Herculaneum #Mount Vesuvius #ancient artifacts #archeology #archeolgst #history #history news #ancient history #ancient culture #ancient civilizations #roman history #roman empire #long post #long reads

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strawberryblue-blog · 2 years ago

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heyy girlyy idk if you're doing requests or not but, it's been a really rough time for me these past few days, i have exams going on plus some issues with my mental health so i was wondering if you could write like a short and quick pedri comfort fic where he takes care and consoles a very sad and stressed reader, love you lot's, take caree! 💌💕

Comfort boy —Pedri.

request: yes.

warnings: none. mental issues, anxiety, stress.

words: +1k

#SEXYNOTE: thanks for the request i am really going through something similar and writing this felt so good. anonymous person i hope you like it and are taking care of yourself, you can handle anything. love you 🩵

Your leg moved unconsciously in response to your anxiety as you bit your parched lips. Your eyes followed the lines of text as you read the report over and over but there was something that didn't feel right. Something was missing.

Your fingers trembled as you grabbed the pen to continue writing what was supposed to be your semi-annual report of your fieldwork. You had been at it for at least a week and hadn't even left the house to finish it perfectly. After class, you would go home and sit down with your work.

College was killing you these days and you couldn't worry about anything else but this. You didn't even know what day it was exactly because you hadn't slept properly for at least 24 hours.

"Y/n?" you heard in the distance. "Baby" he yelled a little loudly when you didn't answer.

Your eyes saw your boyfriend walk through the door of your apartment, seeing him coming as you lifted your head from your sheets.

"Pedri?" you asked in confusion. The young man was walking into your house smiling, when he finally had your attention. You blinked in surprise and somewhat exhausted but happy to see him again. You hadn't heard him, so you assumed he had used the key you had given him for emergencies.

"I knocked on the door but you didn't answer" he approached and you could see his hands busy with grocery bags.

Your tired eyes saw him come to you and kiss your forehead softly.

"I brought you this" he pointed to the bags. "I thought you might need it" he finished saying heading towards the kitchen.

You got up from your place following him to help him. You tried to take them to help him but Pedri denied.

"I'll do it, don't worry" he emitted and you pouted, leaving him.

"No need, honey" you said hugging him from behind as he finished unpacking the bags with merchandise.

When your face touched his back, your body relaxed completely, you felt his touch so warm that your anxiety and stress suddenly vanished. Many emotions were going through your mind right now, you were restless, feeling the pain in your legs from sitting for so long. Or the burning in your eyes from being focused on your homework. Even her back creaked as you stretched towards Pedri.

"You need rest, little bear," he turned to hug your body. His arms wrapped around you, hugging you.

You had missed him so much these endless days you had had. Pedri was like the light of your days and he knew exactly how to comfort you on these days.

"Do you want me to fix you something to eat?" he asked slowly when he saw you on his chest.

You shook a little. Even though your feeding had consisted of black coffee these past few hours, you weren't that hungry.

"Can we go rest?" you whispered as your body felt numb. You looked up and Pedri saw you stroking your back.

"Of course we can, baby" he smiled as you brought your mouth close to his. You joined his lips quickly, circling his neck when his hands took your legs to lift you into his arms.

He walked you to the bedroom, where he laid you gently on the bed, removed your slippers and left the quilt over your body. He took off his clothes and lay down next to you.

Again, his arms wrapped around you taking you completely against his body. Calm invaded your mind as his fingers caressed your lower back, relaxing you. Thoughts were gone, you were even willing to sleep for hours with his presence.

"You're doing great, Y/n" he whispered and his fingers caressed the sides of your face. "You can handle anything, I trust you" he said making you feel your eyes sting with tears.

These last few days had been really hard for you and despite not having seen him that much, not even having had time to call him, just quick messages, Pedri was still here by your side.

You were sure that thanks to him you could go on with everything. Because Pedri took care of you when you didn't, he loved you and didn't leave you despite your problems.

"I can because you are here with me" you told him when a tear fell. He wiped it away himself, smiling at you.

"I love you so much" his forehead caressed yours.

"I love you too, Pedri"

#football imagines #football one shot #imagine #pedri imagine #pedri x you #pedri x reader #pedri #pedri gonzalez #fc barcelona #strawberryblue blog

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haveyouplayedthisttrpg · 9 months ago

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The inktober ttrpg list

I have already said this in passing, but for my fr ttrpg channel I associated one prompt from inktober to a ttrpg.

Now we are the 31st of October, it is done, why notshare all these silly decisions ? Here we go :

1 Backpack : Mausritter by Isaac Williams because of the inventory mechanic

2 Discover : DotDungeon Remastered by Snow

3 Boots : Boots ? cowboy boots ? Inevitable by Soul Muppet

4 Exotic : Deathmatch Island by Tim Denee

5 binoculars : Be seeing you by Tanya Floaker

6 Trek : Donjons & Chatons ( Dungeon & Kittens, no english version)

7 Passport : The Troubleshooters by Krister Sundelin, because the sheets are passports

8 Hike : Field Agent Notebook Observacy department 1924-28 by Aether Corp, a game to play on hike, outside.

9 Sun : Break!! by Madrigan and Grey Wizard, with the broken sun machine and the world separated into zones of permanent Day, Night, Twilight

10 Nomadic : Vagabonder dans les étoiles by Omnik(Roaming in the stars, no english version)

11 Snacks : Wilderfeast of course

12 Remote : The wretched by Chris Bisette

13 horizon : The city is as stars by Fen Slattery

14 roam : Errance/ Wander by omnik

15 Guidebook : Triangle agency due to the format and layout looking like an employee book

16 Grungy : Les oubliés (the forgotten, no english version) a game of little fae (10 cm at most) stuck in a South France city at the start of the Religion Wars, trying to survive against the forces of Nightmares

17 Journal : Yourself by K Ramstack

18 Drive : Wildsea and its chainsaw ships

19 Ridge : Vers le Sommet by Omnik ( towards the summit, no english version)

20 uncharted : Broken Compass, easy choice

21 rhinoceros : Troika and its rhinomen

22 camp : Sleepaway by Jay Dragon

23 rust : Ecryme, english version crowdfunded, should be coming soon. Steampunk and post apo where the water rose and became highly corrosive, with only stone and steel resisting

24 expedition : Polskar ( no english version), subtitled the expedition game, so...

25 Scarecrow : immmediatly had the image of the scarecrow from The Moving Castle so Our traveling Home by Ash Kreider

26 Camera : A game you play with a camera, The little celestial fieldwork guide by Psych hound

27 Road : Crash Panda by Grant Howitt

28 Jumbo: The Marvelous Children of Inang-Uri by Momatoes, the idea of a gigantic creature with an entire civilization on its back

29 Navigator : Un-nagivatable by K ramstack, because nah

30 Violin : Last train to Bremen by Caro Asercion

31 Landmark : Argyropée by Frederic Marin (no english version), a silver city

#ttrpg #tabletop rpg #ttrpgs #inktober

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allthebrazilianpolitics · 6 months ago

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State-of-the-art technology helps monitor Amazon air and biodiversity

The song of birds. The ruffling of leaves as the jaguar prowls through the jungle. The communication between pirarucu fish swimming in the river. Deep in the Amazon forest, sounds come together to form an orchestra. Even untrained ears can appreciate the symphony. However, if one of its instruments goes off-key or its music comes to a halt, the dissonance is just as evident.

The analogy between music and biodiversity in the Amazon was drawn by biologist Emiliano Ramalho, 46, who has lived in the forest for over two decades. It is the best way he has found to explain how the continuous monitoring of animals helps assess the dynamics of the ecosystem and stay alert for any red flags.

Ramalho is the technical and scientific director of the Mamirauá Sustainable Development Institute, in the city of Tefé, Amazonas state, an entity linked to Brazil’s Ministry of Science, Technology, and Innovation. Since 2016, he has been at the helm of the Providence Project, which uses automated sound and image systems to study Amazon species. Over 40 sensors are spread throughout the forest, active 24/7.

“Through technology, we get to observe a number of species and behavior types we’d never be able to monitor by natural means. It completely changes the way we look at the fauna. Technology won’t keep us from having to do fieldwork, but it does serve as a kind of seventh sense for us,” he argued.

#brazil #brazilian politics #politics #environmentalism #science #good news #amazon rainforest #image description in alt #mod nise da silveira

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thoughtportal · 6 months ago

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Every once in a great while paleontological fieldwork turns up a fossil so extraordinary that it revolutionizes our understanding of the origin and evolution of an entire branch of the tree of life. Fifty years ago one of us (Johanson) made just such a discovery on an expedition to the Afar region of Ethiopia. On November 24, 1974, Johanson was out prospecting for fossils of human ancestors with his graduate student Tom Gray, eyes trained on the ground, when he spotted a piece of elbow with humanlike anatomy. Glancing upslope, he saw additional fragments of bone glinting in the noonday sun. In the weeks, months and years that followed, as the expedition team worked to recover and analyze all the ancient bones eroding out of that hillside, it became clear that Johanson had found a remarkable partial skeleton of a human ancestor who had lived some 3.2 million years ago. She was assigned to a new species, Australopithecus afarensis, and given the reference number A.L.288-1, which stands for “Afar locality 288,” the spot where she, the first hominin fossil, was found. But to most people, she is known simply by her nickname, Lucy. With the discovery of Lucy, scientists were forced to reconsider key details of the human story, from when and where humanity got its start to how the various extinct members of the human family were related to one another—and to us. Her combination of apelike and humanlike traits suggested her species occupied a key place in the family tree: ancestral to all later human species, including members of our genus, Homo.

#article #lucy #science #scientific american #biology #evolution #fossils #archaeology #humans #hominin

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zahri-melitor · 8 months ago

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Are you still playing? Alfred 12 24 28

Oooh Alfred's an interesting pick. Let me see:

12. Sexuality hc!

For Alfred? Relentlessly heterosexual, I must say. Alfred's always come across to me as the sort of theatre actor who is fully aware that he's straight and that that makes him hot property in the cast. He quite enjoys being the ladies' man who plays the field. He flirts and has short term relationships and is largely uninterested in long term commitments, because his primary commitment is already to Bruce.

24. What do you think is a secret they have that they never told anyone?

"Yes, I can take up this position as valet in the Wayne household. No, I do not have any attachments holding me elsewhere. What's a Julia"

Okay my 'that you have a daughter, Alfred!!!!' rant over, I think Alfred has a lot of secrets he's never told anyone.

If I was going to pick something other than the SURPRISE DAUGHTER which he only very reluctantly admitted to in the face of her existence turning up on the doorstep, it would be the secret that his career in MI6 is not nearly as interesting as he hints it was and it was a lot less fieldwork than he likes to attribute to it. Alfred worked out pretty early on that his charges were far more likely to believe his suggestions about undercover work if he phrased them in a "when I was an agent" way rather than a "when I was a stage actor" way (even while he was mostly drawing from acting experience).

28. The most unnecessary thing they ever did?

Get resurrected and run around with superpowers, surely?

That aside, the whole farce with Alfred placing an ad in the paper pretending to be from Wayne Manor for a new position as a butler as his way of saving face about returning to work for Bruce after Alfred's Return has to be up there.

#dc ask meme

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chronicillnesscaneffoffplease · 7 months ago

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Things that made my year better, in no particular order:

Getting a lotion wand

Neuro rehab specialist physio

Rediscovering stewed fruit

Rediscovering apple rhubarb crumble

Going back on iron tablets

Starting anti depressants

Being more open about my neurodivergence and EDS

Letting myself be silly goofy (aka unmask a bit) around friends more

Cultivating a little garden

Trying more soup recipes

Travel (I love vaccine technology! Did me an absolute solid)

Having a really good sleep hygiene routine

Hydrotherapy friends

Trying some new hobbies

Making time for the library

Baking more (box mix ftw) and sharing with friends

Making my hair purple (feat. my siblings being good at hair)

It’s not been an easy year by any means. Thesis writing, an intensive, fieldwork. A major health relapse in the middle of the year. Expected and unexpected family losses. Grief. Rough times for friends. But it’s also been a good year. May next year also bring good things.

#the ups and downs of chronic illness #chronic illness #gastrointestinal fuckery #hypermobile ehlers danlos #fieldwork ‘24 #a retrospective #I get maudlin at this time of year #but it’s good to think that so many things this year made the year better #my loose goals for myself next year is to try make it to more local theatre/ local music #and to try more new recipes

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titanicfreija · 7 months ago

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Dawning '24

Thomas woke up to a loud thump in the den and decided that if it was a problem, it would let him know soon enough, and instead rolled over to listen for Freija or Three to make sure.

Sunny and Freija. They were trying to be quiet, so he couldn't pick up words, just tones. They were bickering in the half-loving-dig-half-angry-jab voices. About...?

Shaders. On the ship.

Another thump. Thomas tried to guess if she was having trouble decorating or just being louder than she thought she was. "Oh of course you like that one," Freija said too loud.

"Of course you don't like something because I like it," replied Sunny unhappily. "Our favorite colors aren't even that far apart, why don't you like any of it."

"Pink and blue are opposites."

"Colors don't have opposites!"

They did, but Thomas wasn't about to get involved. He needed breakfast and probably something intoxicating before he interfered in any of their discussions.

Why the hell is a full grown woman, four years risen or not, getting this kind of energy burst for a celebration she has no cultural background for?

Then again maybe Sarah did or something.

"I like the velvet one."

"But not the shiny one in the same color?"

"We are gonna have to let one of us pick one and the other pick something else," sighed Freija. "Please. We don't have to agree or split the difference. We can take turns."

Thomas couldn't hear what Sunny said, but she sounded sad. That was a thing he'd noticed, that Sunny expected even more harmony between them than they already had; but they really just did not enjoy the same things. He thought it was funny half the time and annoying the other half.

"I'm gonna decorate your table, that is going to be entirely of your design, so get started on that," Freija commanded. "We need to start gathering ingredients. Didn't we say we were gonna take Marco last time? He was in Banner with me a few times last week, remembered it came up."

"Did you get to his level?" asked Sunny loudly. She still didn't cover the bang of Freija accidentally shoulder-checking her own doorframe.

"And he sank to mine at the same time," Freija laughed. "But we need to contact them, I remember you telling me about his Ghost hating fieldwork."

"He said you're mean," Sunny replied.

"I make him feel weak," Freija corrected. "He's not, he just refuses to act like he's not fighting Guardians even though he's not fighting Guardians and it's completely different. He can use his Light, right?"

Sunny giggled. "I'm gonna play a recording of this conversation for This One, he'll feel so much better." "You changed out of your Dawning shell into this one?" "I knew you were going to say something."

The barracks door closed.

Thomas dragged himself out of bed to check on the state of the barracks. It was either going to be a godly mess or glorious spectacle, and both would involve him having to move things out of the way for breakfast.

Looked good. He couldn't wait to see what they did to the table. They were getting better with every passing year and Sunny's love for sparkling, shining things were healthily tempered by Freija's preference for richer, deeper colors, and they were landing on a balance that hurt his eyes only a little when all the lights were on. Lights off, with only the ambient lights of the various electronics and decorative baubles, the gold and silver against the deep blue and red made for a magical scene in the increasingly homey barracks den, and this time didn't block the path to the toaster.

He never really bothered much before. Decorating for the holidays, or at all, was never a thing for him. Seeing how much his roommates enjoyed it was peripherally embarrassing at first, but he'd gotten to appreciate it, especially since she seemed to have no problem spilling her colors into the den. She'd accidentally home-ified it more than Thomas managed to in the entire time he'd been here.

Might get her a gift or something as a way to say thank you.

@wolvereaux @annieruok94

#destiny 2 #d2 #ocs #writing #freija #scribble #sunny #thomas #prose #Dawning

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dekkiidan · 4 months ago

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for the OC asks, how about 24, 25, and 45, for mohs, stein, and dusty? ::0

Thank you so much for the ask! Sorry it's taken a whole while to respond, sometimes my brain just stops functioning effectively, ehe!

[24] How hard it is for them to not allow their emotions to cloud their judgement?

[25] Do they have fears and phobias, and if they do, do they usually keep it to themselves or talk about it openly?

[45] For an event, would they dress like they typically do, or go all out?

Have added my answers below the cut so folks' dashes don't get swamped with my OC yapping.

[24] How hard it is for them to not allow their emotions to cloud their judgement?

Hmm, for all of my characters, I think it depends on the situation.

Mohs

Mohs is naturally quite an emotional hearthian, they "feel" their emotions deeply and physically despite their methodical and logical view of the world. As such, they naturally seek out things that make them happy or excited; but are very careful about feelings of sadness, fear or anger, and have a firm grasp on keeping those particular feelings under control.

It would take a lot to get Mohs riled up, but they can become frustrated if they feel they're not being taken seriously or are being disrespected, which can result in them shutting down and totally removing themself from a situation. In rare cases, when they're feeling especially upset, they may have an emotional outburst, tears and balled fists fully included. They don't like how these emotions make them feel, so they try and avoid situations that could potentially trigger an upset.

As such, Mohs is very good at recognising when they need to take a break from a situation to allow their emotions to settle before making a decision.

Stein

Stein is incredibly down to hearth with their emotions, they don't allow their feelings to control their actions and rarely make snap decisions. Because of this, they can come across as a little reserved or closed off regarding their own feelings, but they're a real softie under their practical and direct exterior.

Important to note, however, that should Stein feel that those they care about are threatened in any way, the above is completely null and void and they will lose their temper. This happens very infrequently, but it has happened. Things got physical.

Dusty

Like the herds they look after, Dusty is very placid and relaxed with their feelings, perhaps sometimes to a fault. Chalk it up to working with the Fellers their whole life, but they take time and care to be as non-reactive as possible regarding their emotions, so not to spook the critters.

[25] Do they have fears and phobias, and if they do, do they usually keep it to themselves or talk about it openly?

Mohs

Mohs is scared of both space and flying - which is why they have not once dreamed of joining the Outer Wilds Ventures. They couldn't tell you why they're scared of flying - they just are. They've tried to hitch a lift multiple times in other pilot's ships for sample collection purposes, and have not once made it out of Timber Hearth's atmosphere without having a full blown panic attack. Perhaps it's because of this shared fear that they get along so well with Tuff.

Stein

Stein is relatively stoic when it comes to fears and phobias. As a hearthian who has experienced personal loss, their greatest fear is losing those they care about. They don't talk about this.

Dusty

Currently, Dusty does not have any fears or phobias, but they're still much earlier in development in comparison to Mohs or Stein, so . . . Maybe in the future? (Sorry, Dusty!)

[45] For an event, would they dress like they typically do, or go all out?

Mohs

Despite their outdoorsy vibe for fieldwork, Mohs loves an excuse to dress up all fancy, especially for a dance. They have a variety of light coloured (hard to keep clean!) button down shirts that they pair with an embroidered cummerbund (to look like stars!) and dark parachute pants. For a slightly more "dressed-down" occasion, they'll pair their shirts with patchwork dungarees. They also have a wide-brimmed straw hat that they like to decorate with seasonal flowers.

Stein

Stein has two outfits. On The Rocks shirt, cargos and walking boots. With jacket. Without jacket. Dressing fancy isn't their thing.

Dusty

I think I've mentioned it before, but Dusty is an old school romantic. They enjoy making an effort with their appearance for a social event, and even moreso if said event may include a date. They tend to lean towards what most folks would consider "Classic Western" - so a nicely fitted Western (long sleeved, cuffed shirt but rolled at the elbows, traditional "cowboy" embroidered yoke included) button-up, a hard-wearing pair of denim jeans, and well-worn boots. All of this is brought together with their stone-share bolo tie and belt. Their hat, despite it's "well-loved" appearance, never leaves their head, so regardless of the fit, the hat will always remain.

Thank you so much for the ask! If you stuck around to read for this long, I appreciate it! ::3c

#oc asks #my ocs #dusty #mohs #stein #thank you so much for the ask #i had so much fun thinking about their outfits #but now I wanna draw a full outfit reference for everyone #oh nooo

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courtana · 5 months ago

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the fact that as academics we have basically two jobs (teaching classes and having to conduct original research--which includes fieldwork and writing) feels so isolating sometimes when talking to non-academics. we're not unique in feeling exhausted, obviously. but the fact we technically work 24/7 and don't "clock out" is annoying. like, my mentors and colleagues literally work at 2-4 am after teaching, writing, and attending meetings all day as well. like do we actually ever get a break? lol

#mari.txt #vent cw

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liesonthefloordramatically · 6 months ago

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19, 24, 27

(ask meme here)

19. the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic

This is actually a hard one--I get a lot of comments being like, "wow, you did so much research for this fic!" and pretty much all of those are cases where I actually did zero research for the fic and instead did the research for my research and just so happened to leverage that knowledge in fic. If we don't count those cases, a lot of my research tends to be looking into things to make sure that I have the time period/geographical placement of a concept correct.

Probably the funniest bit of research I did was about Italian Scouts for disjoint, wherein I discovered that they have their own sport called Scoutball. (This tragically did not make it into the fic, because Bruno is the narrator and does not know anything about Scouts.) The most frequent piece of research I have to do is frantically googling "WHEN DO BOYS HIT PUBERTY" over and over because my mind is a sieve when it comes to that information specifically.

24. how do you recharge when you’re not feeling creative

Mostly it's just like...doing other things. I know folks who are like "write through your writer's block," but given that I write for fun, I am generally not interested in punishing myself. "Not feeling creative" usually means that I'm swamped with other stuff (teaching, fieldwork, research, etc.), so waiting until I actually have the breathing room/brain space again helps. This might be why it takes forever for me to finish anything. (Sometimes you really do have to let your fields lie fallow, though!)

I know a lot of folks who are like, "If you're feeling creatively drained, consume art!" which is very funny to me because I read a lot (for work and for fun) all the time and listen to one bazillion podcasts. It is not an either/or situation, at least for me.

27. your favorite part of the writing process

I know that it's pretty popular on tumblr.com to talk about how painful and horrendous the writing process is but I tend to enjoy most of it??? (Even when I am sometimes hitting my head against the wall--if I didn't enjoy it, I wouldn't do it.) That said, any moment where I can see things coming together is stellar--and fortunately that's a component of a lot of parts of the writing process (planning, writing, editing, etc.)! Something extremely fun and exhilarating about figuring out how it the disjointed snippets in my head actually all fit together into an arc.

#ask Queenie #Queenie actually says something on this blog #parallelism palooza: the journey #thank you Rowan <3 #I think that everyone should hit puberty at roughly the same time #for equality and also so I don't have to keep googling the same thing over and over #I THINK I am safe from googling it for my current fic (watch me eat my words in two to three business months)

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