#*article. not paper

[ernest-shackleton]

So you may know that Shackleton's brother is suspected of having stolen the Irish Crown Jewels (clown ass colonial bs) but did you also know that he was gay and really funny?

This article is from 2008 so like by no means recent. It's almost legally an adult.. anyway, here's what went down:

The jewels were taken from a safe with a key. The guy (british establishment) with the only 2 keys didnt talk while he was alive, eventually got shot by irish nationalists and in his will claimed that Frank Shackleton had done it. And also this:

So yeah. Based!

[violetsandshrikes]

Really cool write up that links to the original paper that just came out this year (2025)!

This is a really cool example of foraging innovation.

[hellenhighwater]

If you don't mind me asking, do you know if Malice and Vice are forest cats? Vice looks like my own norwegian forest cat so I can't help but wonder :,] Feel free to ignore or not answer if you don't want to! Also Mayhem is wonderful and a personality from your posts, she will be a force when growing up

Like the overwhelming majority of cats, their breed is "domestic cat." "Domestic longhair," if you want to be fancy. With extremely few exceptions, if a cat is not from a registered breeder with the papers to prove it, their breed is just cat. Cat breeds do not work like dog breeds, where it's quite common to have mutts with obvious breed traits. Cat breeds are generally very new, as a thing. Sometimes people like to call their cats by breed names but the number of cats in a given breed is vanishingly small compared to the total population of cats. So Mal isn't a Chantilly Tiffany, even if she looks like one; Vice isn't a Nebelung, even if he fits the breed standards, and Mayhem isn't a Turkish Van, even if I want to call her one.

Cats are mostly just cats, and the correct way to describe shelter mutts like mine is by using color and coat terminology. So Malice is just a black longhair; Vice is a grey (or, if you like to get a little fun, a blue) longhair. Mayhem is what we'd typically call a calico, though it's not incorrect to call her tortoiseshell with white, since a lot of her color is more mottled than clear patches. You could also call her a tortico!

I call her a problem.

[strongermonster]

one of the funniest news things in canada that always tickles me is the ongoing war between magic mushroom shops and the police.

this is the absolute height of humour to me right now

[chainymail]

What if I was your Knight and before I rode out for the joust I made you promise to drag me out and bury me with my family if I died on the field and the priests would not touch my broken, prideful body. Would you swear this to me with a kiss yes or no. (source)

[trek-tracks]

Space, the final frontier.

That is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to explore

The strange new worlds of our outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a five-year mission

And, by opposing, end it. To go—to seek,

Once more; and by “to seek” to say we find

The new life and new civilizations

Where man has gone not: 'tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish'd. To go, to seek;

To seek, perchance to find—ay, there's the rub:

For in these voyages what dreams may come,

When we have boldly gone whence we have not,

Must give us pause—there's the respect

That makes a mission of so long a life.

For who would bear the Enterprise of time,

The starship’s wrong, admirals’ contumely,

The pangs of dispriz'd love, the law's delay,

The insolence of office, and the spurns

That patient merit of th'unworthy treks,

When he himself might make his voyage on

With a bare warp core? Who would tribbles bear,

To grunt and sweat under a weary life,

But that the hope of something to be found,

The undiscover'd country, from whose bourn

We travel and return, puzzling our will,

And makes us wish to solve those ills we have

And fly to others that we know not of?

Thus conscience makes explorers of us all,

And thus the native hue of resolution

Is glistened o'er with the stars of thought,

And Enterprises of great pith and moment

With this regard their currents warp ahead

And seize the name of action.

[dragonwysper]

No I need to make a fucking post about this because I just stumbled on this paper, and this is insane.

Going to be talking about and sharing images of various insects. You have been notified.

So y'all know fleas. The little parasitic insects.

Yeah. Those guys.

Well. This study did genetic analysis on fleas (and several other insects) to find out what these guys derive from. Because up to this point, fleas have been just these weird little things in their own order that are... somewhere??? in the Antliophora clade. Previous scientists have thought maybe they're some weird offshoot of Diptera (true flies), because they do actually have vestigial little wing casings.

But this study, and the genetic analysis they did, revealed that fleas are not especially similar to Diptera. They're actually most similar to Mecoptera. Scorpionflies.

That's right. These guys.

Which is completely and utterly insane to me. You're telling me these big, super unique and specialized, weird-ass bugs, somewhere down the line, created an offshoot of these tiny little insects that lose their wings in favor of hopping around, that parasitize vertebrates and feed on blood? Scorpionflies did that??

Idk this is just. So so interesting to me. The Big wide beautiful world of entomology.

Here's that study. I think you'll have to make an account on the site in order to read it (though I can also just send any interested folks the file I downloaded, since I successfully made an account), but it is SO fascinating.

[kirkwallguy]

i don't think writers/people creatively involved in something should interact with hardcore fanbases on social media. they should be getting filtered questions on podcasts that 5 people listen to and have only passive fandom knowledge. this is also how we can avoid a repeat of bg3

[nartothelar]

ugh

[erbiumspectrum]

Picked a presentation topic that I actually find interesting.

Pros: working on said presentation is pretty enjoyable and I'm learning new things which is great and makes me happy.

Cons: I'm gonna need a course mate to stand next to me with a stick and bonk me with it every time I start going off topic trying to say absolutely everything.

[dejwrld]

the topic of colorism within the black community will never be understood until people understand that it's deeper than being bullied in high school and dating preferences.

[stevenrogered]

just putting it out there that i could read every single script of every episode of the six of crows spinoff, find out every single piece of information about it beforehand and STILL watch every episode multiple times if they still decide to make it

just jot that down netflix and whoever else can still make that show happen in case you dont already damn well know how dedicated the fanbase is

[thursdayinspace]

They never talk about it. In the morning, it’s like it never happened. A secret kept in a box of thin frosted glass; one word could shatter it into a million pieces. It won’t hold forever, no matter how carefully they handle the fragile object, but for now, it holds.

She takes his hand before they separate for the night, he looks deeply into her eyes, she leaves the door between their adjoining motel rooms open just a crack, and they understand each other, most of the time. After hard days, during nights when the shadows creep in too close.

The lights are off because darkness hides the cracks in the illusion, conceals the truth in their eyes. He finds his way to her bed and she reaches for him, his warmth thawing the ice in her veins. His kiss steals her breath, fills her with life instead. She knows his hands so well, his touch more familiar than any love she ever saw in the bright light of day.

Touch is their only language in the dark, they won’t speak this into existence. Names hold power. So not yet, not yet. Undressing each other is a practiced act, it takes no time at all. There is no slow exploration of each other; for now, they know everything they can bear to know.

Her legs fall open for him and he pushes into her slowly, making her whole. In the dark, she’s not afraid of needing him. The skin of his back is so smooth under her hands, his breath hot against her lips. She brings her legs up around his waist to make their union complete, his body covering hers as she wraps herself around him, his cock deep inside her, responding to every tensing of her muscles, every gasp, every spike of pleasure.

There’s desperate need in every movement, his thrusts hard and slow, and even this is an illusion: the pretense of chasing release, when really, it’s just shy of enough. He’s fucking her, fucking a rough day out of her, giving in to desire so they can both forget. But it’s all a lie. He kisses her neck and she runs her hands through his hair and it doesn’t matter that they both know it, as long as the glass box is firmly shut by sunrise.

By now, he knows how to make her come, and he does. Her body goes tight and she bites her lip so she won’t cry out, squeezes her eyes shut against the blinding light of orgasm that rips through her body, heat exploding through her as she clings to him as hard as she can.

She loves when he fucks her through the aftershocks, when he needs a little longer, and somehow she taught him this without words. She loves the times her mind clears enough to witness when he falls over the edge, she loves seeing hearing feeling him come inside her. Under the cover of darkness, they fall apart in and put each other back together.

They both wake up in their own beds in the morning. She doesn’t mention it. Neither does he. But she can feel the phantom ache of where he was hours ago, and eyes the glass box in her mind, trying to ignore the new crack in it that hadn’t been there yesterday. The lid is firmly closed and she doesn’t touch it. Not yet. Not yet.

[duelinthesun]

"Pick proves mightier than pen"

Red Deer Advocate • Wed, Sep 5, 1973

[nshtn]

[ UV Albert Wesker Uroboros & PG67 HCs ]

These take after the knowledge that PG67 contains hastily-added leech genes. This is full of medical jargon related to virology and genetics. It's hard sci-fi styled!

tags: medical:genetic;neurology (hardly);virology;needles (PG67-A/W), cannibalism mention, childhood trauma, body horror, mental decay

Such a far cry from his beginnings... he's truly taken after the man he hates the most.

Unfortunately for Wesker, adding Uroboros in intensely massive quantities to an existing Progenitor-67 infection is a poor choice that makes him spend much of his fight with Chris alternating between pouncing him like a rabid animal and curling like the death throes of a dying spider.

And unfortunately for Chris, Wesker doesn't die when he's left at the volcano to stew in a puddle of himself. Even with the awakened lack of thermophilic qualities as a result of the genetic influence of G, there is enough local flora and fauna to keep him alive... albeit in a subdued state.

Physiological:

Uroboros, combined on the initial foundation of Progenitor 67, takes after Progenitor 67's metabolic inefficiency and drives that far higher than it was ever meant to go in an attempt to sow compatibility.

Due to this, Wesker needs a truly ridiculous amount of calories (~6,000 - ~9,000 kcal/d) to remain fully intelligent.

A lesser amount will generally retain him, though he will experience a plethora of negative symptoms related to starvation (~3,500 - ~5,500 kcal/d).

The very brink of his sanity and humanity will find him lacking if he consumes the average human male's daily caloric intake (~1,800 - ~3,000 kcal/d).

Wesker cannot digest iron bound to salt or any organic chelates except heme (or hemeprotein) as a result of initial Progenitor 67 infection.

Progenitor 67 epigenetically alters his enterocytes. The genes involved with this are the upregulation of HCP1 and the downregulation of DMT1 and, less intensely, Dcytb, and is a result of both Progenitors' own natural leaning and, primarily, the hasty introduction of leech genes when microinjection became available.

This ultimately means that, as time drags on, he begins to find his palate shifts from a lot of power smoothies to meat.

But there is something crucial here: 67% or more of heme iron is lost when you cook meat. That means...

↑ He slowly slips into preferring his meat blue or raw, otherwise he won't be able to properly supplement his need for heme iron.

↑ With the addition of Uroboros, which dethrones and replaces Progenitor, this change persists and couples roughly with his modified caloric needs.

Usually present in brown adipocytes, UCP1 and UCP2 are both overactive as a result of the improper inclusion of Uroboros' gene signalling.

As a result of this, Wesker's natural temperature is hotter than a normal human being's.

He's probably uncomfortably warm to others - almost naturally feverish.

UCP1 and UCP2 cause proton leakage across the mitochondrial membrane - UCP1 being the primary uncoupler regarded in thermogenesis.

↑ As a result of this leak, ATP use is less efficient. This exacerbates his metabolic disorder.

↑ The inclusion of UCP2 upregulation alongside UCP1 was done out of an abundance of caution.

The gluconeogenesis enzyme PEPCK-C, involved in the burning of fat to produce glucose, is overexpressed in dual infection.

While this gives Wesker higher stamina and physical endurance, it comes at the expense of contributing to insulin resistance and is a key player in his bodies' teetering metabolic imbalance.

↑ This is because Uroboros doesn't upregulate and express PEPCK-C in just skeletal muscular cells - it does so where it is already present, too; this is a personal oversight.

↑ PEPCK-M was personally avoided in its' development because it is a popular oncogene.

Uroboros; a monster that eats itself continually without end. It physically presents a sign of Wesker's malingering, endless need to consume across his skin.

Patches of necrotizing, hardening skin and flesh form across his arms and legs in uneven patterns.

Scaly, itchy lesions creep along his cheekbones and the sides of his neck like a corrupted skin flush.

These are a weaker, useless vestigial presentation of the hardening of skin he undergoes when he's being flash-fried by high temperatures.

They're positive for many of the proto-oncogenes related to melanomas and are undoubtedly at least oncogenetic, but aren't strictly cancerous; instead, they're a misguided attempt at defense that vacillates 'on' without facing heat danger.

One of the scars of Wesker's infection and subsequent mutative transformation are hypermelanotic deposits that coat previously-mutated skin in a dark fade.

They start strongest at his fingertips and weaken at the base of his shoulders.

They are also strongest in the center of his chest where his macronuclei is present and taper off approaching his shoulders and abdomen.

His face has some of the same tinting in uneven splotches descending strongest from where he was burned.

Uroboros enhances the strength of many of his bones - more potent the closer to the surface of his body - by fortifying them with calcium and double-thickening them.

As a feature of the beginning stages of Uroboros' starvation, it will begin to leach calcium out of bones and the deposits it creates.

↑ These deposits are not found in the brain or the skull.

When resources are threateningly low, the bones will be stripped for the calcium they uniformly contain, causing him to experience an effect similar to calcium gout / pseudoarthritis, malaise, and brittling.

This leaching undoes itself and becomes re-fortifying under the duress of stress hormones like cholecystokinin and epinephrine. Less specific but still counted in re-fortification is cortisol and norepinephrine.

↑ Re-fortifying can be triggered accidentally through rigorous & sustained physical exercise or copulation.

Epigenetic changes brought on by Progenitor physiologically are stacked upon inappropriately and pseudorandomly by Uroboros like re-patchwork, which leads to a general instability and accidental incorporation of Progenitor's physical defense mechanisms.

This is what ultimately enables him to survive the events of RE5.

Neurological:

Progenitor infection spiraling into his temporal lobes, brain stem, and, minorly, his frontal lobes as years progress are the cause of his irritation and aggression in RE5.

It does this because it has no antimutagenic properties unlike the more developed t-Virus, slowly mutating out of control into a dysfunctional beast as Wesker experiences more and more stress and trauma.

A bit like G in this regard...

His SERT is disrupted by its' presence in the midbrain raphe nuclei along the brain stem.

This causes elevated extracellular serotonin levels initially, followed by receptor downregulation and eventual serotonin deficiency.

The lack of available serotonin leads him to experience, at first, heightened periods of aggression. Later, this becomes mania and even delirium if he forfeits sleep or a PG/67 shot, because...

As time ticks on, his dopamine begins to become dysregulated as well.

This imbalance contributes to mood swings, aggression, and impaired decision-making.

It also leads to a loss of the ability to feel pleasure or joy in things, making him manic and paranoid, taking risks uncharacteristically to feel something, anything.

As Progenitor 67 degrades brain function, particularly areas involved in impulse control and aggression, Wesker experiences the uncontrollable urge to consume.

This leads him to cannibalize interns and people he calculates won't be missed, as well as people who piss him off enough. During this time it does change - and become true - that a misplaced boop! or headpat! might get you killed.

His ego begins to vacillate and strengthen itself in an effort to maintain itself despite his decline. If he can just finish Uroboros, everything will be okay again, he can fix himself...

His brain practically relies on his PG67-A/W dose before he gains Uroboros.

A rapid decline in cognitive and emotional stability when he’s off the dose is present.

It's not unlike sundowning...

You would not want to see his MRIs during this time. They look awful - his brain has lesions and there are parts that are grossly overgrown; there are tiny black specks where Progenitor has gnawed holes in the fabric of him. If he hadn't roped it in, he would probably end up eventually going completely feral from his brain swelling up against the sides of his skull; he'd just become another victim of Cannibal Disease and turn, simply painfully slowly.

Uroboros is not supposed to crawl into the brain. It's supposed to leave it unaffected - but Progenitor having already curdled and spread unchecked into it gives it an opening for opportunistic infection.

It attempts to knit the holes and tamp down overgrown regions, but in doing this, it feeds from a sort of 'genetic template' that restores Wesker's ability to feel and feel greatly. This includes the reactivation (and reanimation) of the greatly disordered regions of his brain responsible for empathy, sleep regulation, attachment, and guilt.

It also cannot perfectly recreate lost tissue or resurrect memories from dead, liquefied tissue, so he retains some of his symptoms, like mood swings.

Rage becomes consuming, hunger becomes voracious, and guilt becomes haunting; he is plagued with an unfortunate (to him) tendency to consider others.

He finds it a prying weakness, but he can no longer tamp it down into nonexistence as he did; he is, essentially, thermally reduced to his Arklay days in behavior. He’s still intelligent and cunning, but he must now wrestle with intense emotional responses that don’t align with his goals at all...

Guilt and empathy are so foreign to him they are nearly out-of-body; he views them clinically and tries to rationalize them away, but his inability becomes the stake that impales him and imparts a malingering sense of conflict.

...and he must take a good, hard, long look at his goals and how far they've diverted from their initial precedence.

... what is he now? What use does he serve in this world - to what master does he heel, clearly dethroned from his position? These questions and more are things he asks himself now.

Is he doomed to roam aimlessly without purpose until he perishes?

[dailyjevil]

put that little man in Paper Mario (if you'd like)

Day 331 of posting Jevil every day