beaglefanblog - Tumblr blog

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— Ursula K. Le Guin, from “A Rant About ‘Technology’”

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I have a folder called Time is a Flat Circle in which I collect evidence of humanity. Here is most of them.

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STAR TREK: STRANGE NEW WORLDS 1.02 ‘Children of the Comet’

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seeing people argue on twitter that we should not be nice to strangers and that strangers do not owe you respect or kindness and that if anyone asks you to be nicer ever they are entitled and a horrible person and being nice to people you don’t know is unpaid emotional labour and if you ask anyone to do it ever you are an abusive person. ha. hahahahahahahahahahaha

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early homo sapiens b like help i cant stop making bowls . help i cant stop domesticating plants and animals. help i cant stop developing language and architecture and religion

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40,000 years ago, early humans painted hands on the wall of a cave. This morning, my baby cousin began finger painting. All of recorded history happened between these two paintings of human hands. The Nazca Lines and the Mona Lisa. The first TransAtlantic flight and the first voyage to the Moon. Humanity invented the wheel, the telescope, and the nuclear bomb. We eradicated wild poliovirus types 2 and 3. We discovered radio waves, dinosaurs, and the laws of thermodynamics. Freedom Riders crossed the South. Hippies burned their draft cards. Countless genocides, scientific advancements, migrations, and rebellions. More than a hundred billion humans lived and died between these two paintings—one on a sheet of paper, and one on the inside of a cave. At the dawn of time, ancient humans stretched out their hands. And this morning, a child reached back. 

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why have i had this same crematorium ad multiple times a day for like three days 💀

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POV: you are a small boy in 1852 who is being cruelly forced to wear turn-down collars, even though young Sidney Bowler—who's not half so tall as you!—has had stick-ups and white chokers for ever so long.

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writing zefram cochrane / solkar fic. who cheered

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With the knowledge that Vulcan has regularly high winds & subsequent sandstorms I propose a type of guy: midwestern dads watching tornadoes but for Vulcans. Somebody's uncle Sovar standing outside with his hands on his hips watching a massive cloud roll closer. Unconcerned because this happens, like, every couple of weeks. He's like "this one is large, is it not" yes it is go back inside Sovar

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Ok so I like boys and I might be a trans dude but I’m really attracted to the lesbian label idk why but aaa isnsuhsuwnsus Idk what to do what is wrong with me please help me

I have the same problem with the term ‘butch’, I really like it but I’m not a lesbian so I can’t exactly use it

so instead I just call myself a sparrow stag (meaning a sorta low-maintenance masculine nb)

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The hard truth about autism acceptance that a lot of people don't want to hear is that autism acceptance also inherently requires acceptance of people who are just weird.

And yes, I mean Those TM people. Middle schoolers who growl and bark and naruto run in the halls. Thirtysomethings who live with their parents. Furries. Fourteen-year-olds who identify as stargender and use neopronouns. Picky eaters. Adults in fandoms. People who talk weird. People who dress weird.

Because autistic people shouldn't have to disclose a medical diagnosis to you to avoid being mocked and ostracized for stuff that, at absolute worst, is annoying. Ruthlessly deriding people for this stuff then tacking on a "oh, but it's okay if they're autistic" does absolutely nothing to help autistic people! Especially when undiagnosed autistic people exist.

Like it or not, if you want to be an ally to autistic people, you're going to have to take the L and leave eccentric, weird people alone. Even if you don't know them to be autistic. You shouldn't be looking for Acceptable Reasons to be mean to people in the first place. Being respectful should be the default.

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The curtains were blue because everything in the room was carefully colour coordinated, reinforcing the character’s stylish and controlled characterisation. The curtains were blue because everything in the room was a different colour, reinforcing the character’s eclectic and globe-trotting personality. The curtains were blue because the character is elsewhere established to hate the colour blue, subtextually implying that their deceased spouse was responsible for that decoration choice.

The curtains were blue because throughout their filmography the director consistently uses cool tones to mark moments of distance between characters. The curtains were blue to tie the events in that room into the broader oceanic motif of this particular novel. The curtains were blue because the assonance evoked a contrast with the following stanza of the poem.

Even the curtains looked expensive: floor to ceiling velvet drapes, in a flawless royal blue. She tucked the saucer up on the windowsill and tied back faded blue curtains with a loop of string. The narrow blinds were the same navy blue as the pinstripe suit of the man who served eviction notice that sent them to this office.

The curtains were blue because the author’s childhood home had blue curtains, which they discussed in their letters related to their feelings of comfort in that place. The curtains were blue because the author’s childhood home had blue curtains, which they discussed in their letters related to their feelings of grief in that place.

The curtains were blue as an allusion to the contemporary joke about literary criticism, an extension of the author’s autocritical approach that will be further discussed in section seven.

The curtains were red, as a pun on;

The curtains were read.

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you may notice i use the phrase "my beloved" frequently. this is because i am in love with the world and everything in it. hope this clears things up <3

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Napoleonic War manuscript ship’s log for a British warship in the Mediterranean that would be used shortly afterwards to transport convicts to New South Wales (1819) and Van Diemen’s Land (1821) in Australia

This logbook is a training logbook kept by a Midshipman. In this case it was W B Boddy who kept it in 1814. It contains not only the daily records of direction and weather conditions, but also drawings, notes and comments on some of the more unusual events such as a flogging and the firing of cannon salvos. The entries express the monotony of routine naval life patrolling the Mediterranean before Napoleon made it the focus of war once again when he escaped from captivity on Elba in early 1815. Boddy recounts pumping water, washing decks and scrubbing hammocks, but also the weeks he spent in port repairing the ship, taking supplies and cargo on board, and meeting and doing business with other ships.

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“Men need therapy” has become a mainstream idea in feminist circles but the conversation never, ever moves past that point because if it did it would inevitably brush up against the implication that the way we raise boys is inherently traumatizing. And that would complicate their nice neat theories about how maleness is only ever a privilege and femaleness is only ever oppressive.