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The Genesis Frog and the Brane Space are, in fact, the same thing as rendered in Strong-Law and Weak-Law Mythic conditions respectively—all their properties (for instance, a universal wavefunction in superposition) are functionally the same. Ekpyrotic cosmogenesis and the cycle of the insemination of Skaia are similarly the same event rendered in both kinds of space (though its implications, grand as they are, are often overlooked)—though the Genesis Frog is created whereas an existing brane merely responds in Ekpyrotic cosmogenesis, these two are effectively the same in the mythological-cyclic language. The only crucial distinction is that Mythic space translates the minuscule distances of the universe from its partners in conventional braneworld cosmology into a representation of the difficulty of crossing those spaces, thereby rendering it as a traversable but immeasurably vast void. You'll actually cross the Furthest Ring much easier from within two branespaces under Strong-Law conditions if Local Decompactification could occur.

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trans rights are human rights and also the correct religion is catholicism. it really is that simple and that based

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also. this is gross. but i'm quitting smoking and what no one tells you is that for awhile, i saw some ppl online saying up to a year even, that means you're just hacking up like mucus encased tar. cuz apparently there's these hair like things called cilia in your lungs that slowly move stuff upward so you're able to cough it out, and smoking like. 24/7 365 for the past 5 years had my cilia all fucked up, so now it's finally coming back online and being like holy shit you need this out of here NOW.

anyways don't smoke kids. smoking weed is still smoking and your lungs hate it. fuck vaping too. just eat a gummy or make your flower into a delightful little tea this shit sucks so bad yall

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Sometimes on Tumblr a user will notice/think they notice something about a religion and will have a Hottake™ and so far I've seen the following:

Maybe considered partly true by some interpretations of Different Religion, completely ridiculous to every theologian of This Religion

A statement so incorrect and unbelievably lacking in nuance that speaking it aloud would cause a theology professor to die in real life

Shocking and edgy to people who think they'll go to Hell forever if they take one of father's scrumptious donuts without asking

Sensible but mostly acknowledged because it's framed through American politics and is therefore Important™

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autistic anger issues are So Much. i have my temper more under control now in that i rly dont yell/lash out anymore but i do regularly boil inside with incandescent uncontainable rage over something inconsequential and then it evaporates in the span of ten minutes. incomparable

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tumblr: constantly be aware of your own privilege. constantly be aware of your capacity of be evil. hey i know you really like that new piece of media but make sure you're aware of all of the problematic elements all the time. hey i noticed you reblogged a post from a designated Bad Person so please make sure you do a thorough background check on everyone you reblog from to make sure they're not bad, otherwise people might get the wrong idea about you. always be aware of everything bad that's happening in the world all the time because silence is violence. i see you not reblogging this post btw. activist burnout is a privilege so be aware of that. xyz people are required to reblog this post. if you're not constantly fighting against designated Bad People you are inherently complicit and therefore a Bad Person.

people with ocd:

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There's a sore that bursts in egress and the onslaught of light, There's a sun that shapes the ashes 'round its orbit retained. And a stillness breeding sorrows and prepondering plagues Of torpor and infestation in the basin sustained.

I want to seek and one day see The sore from which egress derives. To shine sublime, I'll flare in time, And repulsion is propulsion Where substance as negation from stagnation retreats.

There's a way for seeking egress, bringing ethos alive, There's a quest to find arrangements of the shattered array, For arrangement brings some sureness to our parallel brains. Though this seeking seems elusive in a fanciful way.

Hexagons and pyramids, And murk and mundane misery. I'd wake you up, I'd set you free If I had a way, if I only knew— How I could light a path for you.

I want to seek and one day see The sore from which egress derives. To shine sublime, I'll flare in time, And repulsion is propulsion Where substance as negation from stagnation retreats.

I want to seek and one day be The sore from which some light arrives.

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The creepy man who sells slaves tells me I look like a good Isekai protagonist who will purchase a catgirl slave to do ethical consumption under slavery. I smile but sweating, I look aside to the building I own with a sign that says "slave housing" beginning to fall, revealing a second sign that reads "catgirl burgers".

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There's sores that bleed egress and the onslaught of space, And negation in substance from its fullness retreats. One lusts for finding mirrors in the fullness of need, And I'm drowning in crowds, though negation won't meet. I know for sure, but in the din no sense could cohere, Small comforts of difference no distinction can make, Ethos, maybe doctrine, sates the need to adhere.

The sea waits for shaping, though in stillness won't last And seas of metal in migration no thirsting can sate. Which once solid melt again at a temperate heat. Void of wisdom and reasons to chisel the slate. I know for sure, but in the din no sense could cohere, Foolish pleas for distinction no difference can make, Ethos, maybe doctrine, sates the need to adhere.

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You may know the shard of ancient fracture, which you might be carrying with you. You think the hand twitches at polychrome jagged edges.

Minus time in alchemy, black magic and a chucklevoodoo. Flash and stained with the Noble Circle, it might suit you better than an invertibrother's club.

There could be the destructor, not deconstructor, a cleaver of fractured space. It would kill with doubt, it might kill with fanaticism. It may well be both.

You know how it ends and you will fulfill the serpent anyway. Let the loop be closed and the snare of time fulfilled.

You might be a slave still.

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The seeker we seek has no crook in his beak, For he finds all his reasons in books. You'll find no milder mind has such fanciful finds Alight with helpful lights for the nooks. He's got a bright mitre brain with encoding on planes He's got crosses for the crossing of crooks.

There's a fellow alright, two afflicted with night, They're respective in their reasons for blight. They've got their visions so fat that it's lighter than that, They're excited for excisions of spite. He's got a fancier home of a falterless throne Their afflictions fail to fetter their flight.

The gilt guilty crown is ashining around For the falling of the faltering night Whose hot and reasonless eyes from the surface divides Subsiding from the softening light. For he's stung on the sun and he's rung on the run Alight with a souring sight.

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It all was in one place alight with one dying world, so the streak of white who strung in green shared the taste of mushrooms before spears struck from without.

And four friends went to rule a world, and four friends went to dust.

The bones of the guardian were bleached and gathered up, the source had turned to dark. Whirling with the windows 'round the fuller, furtive bulk, someone stood beside the disk to cobble the bones with all the rest

The twitching starts and the bones start to stir; the engines whir and the bony bulk starts to catch the signal of a sun that's also dead. It twitches as green flame is fed upon, destiny's data rearranged—a new directive imparted.

Radios receive; machines begin to move. The corpse is programmed to engage.

Penrose learned to cheat the scar; noble Maldacena found a way to read it. And the data there was put to work to feed the new machine.

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Why isn't he a Tumblr sexyman? I think Pedro de Alvarado would be a great Tumblr sexyman.

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There is a library of many-sided shapes; saffron and splaying outwards in every direction, a causal finity yet frightfully infinite in sensation. Striding through, the sunny and sulfurous catalogues signals and bedrock notions in his domain.

There is a sickly king on the fifth through seventh throne of sleep, festered though unspoiled. Mythological chlorination rids the blood from a mucous snail.

A sea slips by and stays unnoticed; protean but placid, dimly alight. Impressed on and impressing, inspiration's gelid tides in motion and still—chasing less than flame and scarcely stilled easily.

And at the sore unsleeping, blood seeps from under a shroud. There are stories in its chaos, and one has taken measure. So this scribe records it all, but as the gravekeeper and not the witness.

The witness, that is the other scribe, is perched and sent a signal. He sees that foundations between fullest sum and root form everything between, then there is the secret cognition of the self-contingent. And the lawmaker wrote both of the laws.

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They flew the colors, they began to fight; They flailed at each other like bugs at a light! Bodies and bikes beyond repair, The smell of oil and gas in the air.

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for you and your warped reflection

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GameBro === Action 52 Review by H. Soleil ===

There are 53 more games than there need to be in Action 52.

It would be wrong for me to compare putting 52 games of this quality in one collection to human wave tactics because the human wave eventually stops screaming after you shoot it enough. The same cannot be said for the evil souls trapped inside this game. Substituting barbed wire for anal beads is a more enjoyable experience than playing Action 52. A premonition of this collection inspired every genocide. If the Noble Circle collectively impregnated a porcupine, it would die giving birth to this cartridge.

This legendary piece of shit is a curse from another world and that is the only thing it succeeds at beside the theme for the second-to-last (52nd) game and the cartridge's situational utility for emergency heating.

About the Cheetahmen theme, it's a hell of a mystery no one thought was a mystery and really didn't need be solved—but I went ahead and solved it anyway. Yay me.

I think the answer is this: Mario González inhaled a chest cavity full of psychedelic drugs out of the open ribcage of a dead horse and saw into the Furthest Ring. The orchestra he heard being sung to keep the dread Noble Circle asleep was copied into this theme. The rest was inspired by the noises the horse in question made when it was being gutted with a sharpened toothbrush.

A fun fact about this cartridge is that it yearns for the warmth of the porcupine's womb (the one that gave birth to it) and sates that desire by cooking itself in the fires of Hell. This is my only reasonable explanation as to why the console began to smoke after I left it in for too long, because I know full well nothing short of the fires of Hell could've been used to forge it in the first place.

The bright side is that this cartridge will work really well if your heating gets cut off in the dead of winter during a blizzard after the sun vanishes. Just make sure to keep some windows open.

If you bring this cartridge to a graveyard the dead will flay you in righteous retribution. If you bring this cartridge to a church, you and the cartridge will both burst into flames. If you throw this cartridge into lava, the lava will burst into flames and scream.

Anyway, strongly recommended for anyone terrible enough to be subscribed to this magazine, especially if you put your console next to something flammable.