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Acts like he's saving money while he takes out money for his own profit

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Revenge

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More amazing art

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Amazing

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Custom motorhome with wood everywhere

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Incredible collection of information

at a conference I attended recently, a researcher pointed to the difficulty of finding material in archives because so much depends on the metadata and the terminology used to describe things changes over time. "it would be so helpful," the researcher said, "if I typed 'lesbian' into the library of congress database, it would also show me results that were categorised in the 50s, when the materials were interpreted as 'intimate female friendships'"

which is what tag wrangles at Archive Of Our Own do incredibly effectively: searching for "omegaverse" also leads to "alpha/beta/omega dynamics" and "alternate universe: a/b/o" and so on. but ao3 achieves this frankly incredible categorisation and indexing system by the power of countless volunteers putting in hours and hours of unpaid and unthanked free time, and it's completely understandable that most archives do not have that kind of infrastructure, but also how incredible that a fan-run website has better searchability, classification, and accessibility than the library of congress

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No kings, no subjects of greedy inhuman men.

Trump and his team run on hate. WE THE PEOPLE still run on each other. We choose #love. We choose to lift one another up, to feed each other and protect each other. That’s people power. That’s the real #America!

June 14th is next national day of action. Be there!

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Wouldn't this be a strange life?

Man Sees Faces as Celebrities: The Mystery of Celebagnosia

Minneapolis, MN – A Minnesota man is baffling neurologists and psychologists alike after being diagnosed with a previously undocumented condition that causes him to see every human face as that of a different celebrity — from Oprah Winfrey to Keanu Reeves, regardless of the person’s actual appearance.

Mark Galloway, 43, first noticed the issue shortly after recovering from a mild concussion sustained in a bicycle accident last winter. “I was having coffee with my wife,” Galloway recounts, “and I was like, ‘Why is Jennifer Lawrence being so affectionate with me?’”

At first, doctors suspected prosopagnosia, commonly known as face blindness — a condition that makes it difficult or impossible to recognize faces. But further testing revealed something more bizarre. Galloway could recognize faces — just not the real ones.

“He doesn’t see a blur or an unrecognizable image,” said Dr. Natalie Chen, a neurologist at the University of Minnesota Medical Center. “Instead, he superimposes the faces of widely known celebrities onto everyone he sees. And he’s incredibly consistent. His mailman is always George Clooney. His dentist is always Viola Davis. His wife, interestingly, alternates between Natalie Portman and Scarlett Johansson depending on the lighting.”

The condition, jokingly dubbed "Celebagnosia" by Galloway's friends, has confounded medical professionals. MRI scans have revealed minor abnormalities in the fusiform face area — a region of the brain associated with facial recognition — but nothing that explains the specificity of the hallucinations.

What makes the case even more puzzling is Galloway’s ability to correctly identify people by voice or context, even while seeing a different face. “I know it’s my wife,” he says. “But I also know that’s not what she looks like. It’s just... I can’t make her face appear.”

Experts theorize the condition may be a form of visual memory substitution, in which the brain, struggling to reconstruct an accurate facial representation, instead pulls from a library of well-encoded, emotionally salient images — namely, famous faces seen repeatedly in media.

“Mark’s brain appears to be filling in the blanks using familiar templates,” Dr. Chen explained. “Unfortunately, all those templates are from red carpets, movie posters, and late-night interviews.”

Galloway’s life has changed dramatically. He avoids crowded places — “It’s like being at the Oscars during rush hour,” he says — and struggles with social cues. “Imagine arguing with someone who looks like Tom Hanks. You feel like you should just agree with him.”

Despite the challenges, Galloway retains a sense of humor. He’s launched a YouTube channel called Face Value, where he discusses the neuroscience of facial perception, interviews experts, and occasionally misidentifies grocery store clerks as Meryl Streep.

Doctors hope that further study of his case could shed light on how the brain encodes identity and appearance. Meanwhile, Galloway is undergoing visual retraining therapy — though he admits it’s hard to stay focused when your therapist looks like Samuel L. Jackson.

“I just want to see my wife again,” he says. “Not Natalie, not Scarlett — just her.”

Source: Man Sees Faces as Celebrities: The Mystery of Celebagnosia

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New house

IG@polissya_bushcraft

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If you've ever heard someone talk about"not having the spoons to take that on", here's the explanation. It's a simpler concept.

Because not everyone knows about it, this is just a reminder of spoon theory:

You start off the day with only so many spoons in your drawer. And doing tasks takes spoons. Getting out of bed, brushing your teeth, going to work or school, making art, spending time with loved ones, everything takes spoons.

And if you are disabled or injured or mentally ill, you often have less spoons than society assumes. Your spoons are in the sink because washing them takes energy (spoons) you don't have.

It's okay to not be able to get everything done and to prioritize or deprioritize tasks so you can live a bearable (or even joyful!!) life. Managing your spoons is difficult and you don't have to be perfect at it.

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Good life lessons

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Just think about it

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Guess we'll have to look up their show schedule

Red Jumpsuit Apparatus Singer: 'If You Voted for Trump, Do Not Come'

"..you’re going to see a lot of acceptance from all areas of life and races, and you’re just going to see a lot of harmony. OK? That’s not what you’re about, OK? Don’t come. Refunds are available. Forever, don’t come. Goodbye.”

Fuck off MAGAtts! Like for ever! Fuck off!

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Always amazing

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Good story

I think I may never be sad ever again. There is a statue entitled "Farewell to Orpheus" on my college campus. It's been there since 1968, created by a Prof. Frederic Littman that use to work at the university. It sits in the middle of a fountain, and the fountain is often full of litter. I have taken it upon myself to clean the litter out when I see it (the skimmers only come by once a week at max). But because of my style of dress, this means that bystanders see a twenty-something on their hands and knees at the edge of the fountain, sleeves rolled up, trying not to splash dirty water on their slacks while their briefcase and suit coat sit nearby. This is fine, usually. But today was Saturday Market, which means the twenty or so people in the area suddenly became hundreds. So, obviously, somebody stopped to ask what I was doing. "This," I gestured at the statue, "is Eurydice. She was the wife of Orpheus, the greatest storyteller in Greece. And this litter is disrespectful." Then, on a whim, I squinted up at them. "Do you know the story of Orpheus and Eurydice?" "No," they replied, shifting slightly to sit.

"Would you like to?"

"Sure!"

So I told them. I told them the story as I know it- and I've had a bit of practice. Orpheus, child of a wishing star, favorite of the messenger god, who had a hard-working, wonderful wife, Eurydice; his harp that could lull beasts to passivity, coax song from nymphs, and move mountains before him; and the men who, while he dreamed and composed, came to steal Eurydice away. I told of how she ran, and the water splashed up on my clothes. But I didn't care. I told of how the adder in the field bit her heel, and she died. I told of the Underworld- how Orpheus charmed the riverman, pacified Cerberus with a lullaby, and melted the hearts of the wise judges. I laughed as I remarked how lucky he was that it was winter- for Persephone was moved by his song where Hades was not. She convinced Hades to let Orpheus prove he was worthy of taking Eurydice. I tugged my coat back on, and said how Orpheus had to play and sing all the way out of the Underworld, without ever looking back to see if his beloved wife followed. And I told how, when he stopped for breath, he thought he heard her stumble and fall, and turned to help her up- but it was too late. I told the story four times after that, to four different groups, each larger than the last. And I must have cast a glance at the statue, something that said "I'm sorry, I miss you--" because when I finished my second to last retelling, a young boy piped up, perhaps seven or eight, and asked me a question that has made my day, and potentially my life: "Are you Orpheus?" I told the tale of the grieving bard so well, so convincingly, that in the eyes of a child I was telling not a story, but a memory. And while I laughed in the moment, with everyone else, I wept with gratitude and joy when I came home. This is more than I deserve, and I think I may never be sad again.

Here is the aforementioned statue, by the way.