#Culture and Art days program

[recurring-polynya]

In the content you have come to expect from this blog, I wish to talk about the hamburger in the Royal Realm. I will not beat around the bush. Here it is:

I spend a lot of time agonizing about whether or not they have various foods in Soul Society, usually based on age of introduction to Japan, and my own feeble attempts extrapolate which cultural forces do or do not exist, but this one feels very straightforward: there is no way they have hamburgers in Soul Society.

Wait, no, I am going to roll that back slightly, because I think it is the nature of Joe Shinigami to smuggle any kind of anything small enough to be stuffed into a shihakushou back through a senkaimon, so it's not like there has never been a hamburger in Soul Society. Kensei looks very much like a burg man, and he's probably published instructions for how to make one in his cooking column, but I can't bring myself to believe they are more than a rare and very expensive novelty. Also, as is the way of Soul Society, no matter how carefully you source your ingredients which time-tested recipe you follow, it will come out subtly and indescribably wrong.

And yet! Kirio seems to have mastered the art! Or has she? As becomes evident in this subsequent shot, there is something deeply wrong with this burger: it appears to be roughly the same height as Rukia and probably twice the weight.

The Royal Guard is known for innovating, and I'm so interested in this-- is Kirio trying out new foods for their reishi-holding capacities? Did she make this for Ichigo in particular, because it would otherwise be rare for her to encounter someone who has actually eaten a burger before? (Presumably Renji, who knows everything about the World of the Living, might also have some feedback). Where did she find out about burgers? The Royal Realm is basically the Los Alamos of Soul Society. It's not unthinkable that they figured out how to get Food Network up there.

I am so mad that we didn't get to see the full footage of everyone's trip through every stage of the Royal Realm. Did Kirio make Byakuya the Giant Hamburger? You know that Byakuya doesn't approve of anything invented or introduced to Japan after the Tokugawa Shogunate, but I feel like he would have great respect for anything he encountered in the Royal Realm. What I am saying is that I think it would be great if post-TYBW Byakuya gets into hamburgers with the signature intensity with which he pursues all of his interests.

PS: For full disclosure, the giant burg is anime-only. Presumably it got the Kubo seal of approval. But guess what he drew originally! (answer below the cut)

[spacelazarwolf]

in honor of that anon who said jews have done nothing for the world, here’s a non exhaustive list of things we’ve done for the world:

arts, fashion, and lifestyle:

jeans - levi strauss

modern bras - ida rosenthal

sewing machines - isaac merritt singer

modern film industry - carl laemmle (universal pictures), adolph zukor (paramount pictures), william fox (fox film forporation), louis b. mayer (mgm - metro-goldwyn-mayer), harry, sam, albert, and jack warners (warner bros.), steven spielberg, mel brooks, marx brothers

operetta - jacques offenbach

comic books - stan lee

graphic novels - will eisner

teddy bears - morris and rose michtom

influential musicians - irving berlin, stephen sondheim, benny goodman, george gershwin, paul simon, itzhak perlman, leonard bernstein, bob dylan, leonard cohen

artists - mark rothko

actors - elizabeth taylor, jerry lewis, barbara streisand

comedians - lenny bruce, joan rivers, jerry seinfeld

authors - judy blume, tony kushner, allen ginsberg, walter mosley

culture:

esperanto - ludwik lazar zamenhof

feminism - betty friedan, gloria steinem, ruth bader ginsberg

queer and trans rights - larry kramer, harvey milk, leslie feinberg, abby stein, kate bornstein, frank kameny, judith butler

international women's day - clara zetkin

principles of journalizm, statue of liberty, and pulitzer prize - joseph pulitzer

"the new colossus" - emma lazarus

universal declaration of human rights - rene samuel cassin

holocaust remembrance and human rights activism - elie wiesel

workers rights - louis brandeis, rose schneiderman

public health care, women's rights, and children's rights - lillian wald

racial equity - rabbi abraham joshua heschel, julius rosenwald, andrew goodman, michael schwerner

political theory - hannah arendt

disability rights - judith heumann

black lives matter slogan and movement - alicia garza

#metoo movement - jodi kantor

institute of sexology - magnus hirschfeld

technology:

word processing computers - evelyn berezin

facebook - mark zuckerberg

console video game system - ralph henry baer

cell phones - amos edward joel jr., martin cooper

3d - leonard lipton

telephone - philipp reis

fax machines - arthur korn

microphone - emile berliner

gramophone - emile berliner

television - boris rosing

barcodes - norman joseph woodland and bernard silver

secret communication system, which is the foundation of the technology used for wifi - hedy lamarr

three laws of robotics - isaac asimov

cybernetics - norbert wiener

helicopters - emile berliner

BASIC (programming language) - john george kemeny

google - sergey mikhaylovich brin and larry page

VCR - jerome lemelson

fax machine - jerome lemelson

telegraph - samuel finley breese morse

morse code - samuel finley breese morse

bulletproof glass - edouard benedictus

electric motor and electroplating - boris semyonovich jacobi

nuclear powered submarine - hyman george rickover

the internet - paul baran

icq instant messenger - arik vardi, yair goldfinger,, sefi vigiser, amnon amir

color photography - leopold godowsky and leopold mannes

world's first computer - herman goldstine

modern computer architecture - john von neumann

bittorrent - bram cohen

voip internet telephony - alon cohen

data archiving - phil katz, eugene roshal, abraham lempel, jacob ziv

nemeth code - abraham nemeth

holography - dennis gabor

laser - theodor maiman

instant photo sharing online - philippe kahn

first automobile - siegfried samuel marcus

electrical maglev road - boris petrovich weinberg

drip irrigation - simcha blass

ballpoint pen and automatic gearbox - laszlo biro

photo booth - anatol marco josepho

medicine:

pacemakers and defibrillators - louise robinovitch

defibrillators - bernard lown

anti-plague and anti-cholera vaccines - vladimir aronovich khavkin

polio vaccine - jonas salk

test for diagnosis of syphilis - august paul von wasserman

test for typhoid fever - ferdinand widal

penicillin - ernst boris chain

pregnancy test - barnhard zondek

antiretroviral drug to treat aids and fight rejection in organ transplants - gertrude elion

discovery of hepatitis c virus - harvey alter

chemotherapy - paul ehrlich

discovery of prions - stanley prusiner

psychoanalysis - sigmund freud

rubber condoms - julius fromm

birth control pill - gregory goodwin pincus

asorbic acid (vitamin c) - tadeusz reichstein

blood groups and rh blood factor - karl landsteiner

acyclovir (treatment for infections caused by herpes virus) - gertrude elion

vitamins - caismir funk

technique for measuring blood insulin levils - rosalyn sussman yalow

antigen for hepatitus - baruch samuel blumberg

a bone fusion technique - gavriil abramovich ilizarov

homeopathy - christian friedrich samuel hahnemann

aspirin - arthur ernst eichengrun

science:

theory of relativity - albert einstein

theory of the electromagnetic field - james maxwell

quantum mechanics - max born, gustav ludwig hertz

quantum theory of gravity - matvei bronstein

microbiology - ferdinand julius cohn

neuropsychology - alexander romanovich luria

counters for x-rays and gamma rays - robert hofstadter

genetic engineering - paul berg

discovery of the antiproton - emilio gino segre

discovery of cosmic microwave background radiation - arno allan penzias

discovery of the accelerating expansion of the universe - adam riess and saul merlmutter

discovery that black hole formation is a robust prediction of the general theory of relativity - roger penrose

discovery of a supermassive compact object at the center of the milky way - andrea ghez

modern cosmology and the big bang theory - alexander alexandrovich friedmann

stainless steel - hans goldschmidt

gas powered vehicles

interferometer - albert abraham michelson

discovery of the source of energy production in stars - hans albrecht bethe

proved poincare conjecture - grigori yakovlevich perelman

biochemistry - otto fritz meyerhof

electron-positron collider - bruno touschek

[occamstfs]

Marichismo

Allen, a smug engineering student, finds himself seeking shelter from the storm in a museum for Latin American art. By the time it clears up it's safe to say he'll have a more than healthy appreciation for the arts.

Might've gotten away from me a tad but I think it turned out quite well! Latino Race and Cultural change, MG and language change ahead. Also a couple more people have hopped onto my Challenge since I last mentioned it! Otherwise, espero que disfrutes! -Occam

Allen was on a side of the campus he’s never quite made it a point to explore. In undergrad and in his Masters of Engineering program so far there has simply never been a need for him to venture too far from the engineering building or the architecture library. That is until his partner on a superfluous project requested he venture into the no man’s land that holds the campus’ main library, one that runs absolutely rampant with students he sees as far beneath him.

Even worse than simply venturing beyond his comfort zone, as soon as the pair have wrapped up their progress for the day, heading off on their less than merry ways, it begins to rain. As the first raindrops begin to fall, Allen scoffs at himself for being anything less than optimally prepared. Before he’s able to reflect too deeply, the snobbish student clenches his tech-filled book bag to his chest and sprints into the nearest building, apathetic to whatever space he noisily barges into.

Before his eyes can adjust to the dim light of the new space he finds himself in, Allen hears a crack of thunder as the heavens open up behind him. Sighing in relief at successfully staying dry, Allen keeps his guard up, eying the lobby of whatever building this is that he’s never deigned to step into before now. He grimaces as he finds himself in an art museum. He does not like art museums. It’s not so much that Allen sees himself as above fine art, it’s- well no it is that. Immediately, he begins scanning the lobby for a power outlet so he may continue working while he waits out the downpour.

Head shoved under a lobby bench Allen ignores a caution sign as he forces his charger in, causing an inevitable shock that forces out a less than respectful expletive in this place of introspection. He eyes the empty room around him, slightly grinning at just how barren the lobby is. Clearly he’s not the only one apathetic to this nonsense. Shaking his hand to reawaken its nerves, he hears the clicking of footsteps against the gallery floor as a small woman walks around the corner carrying a stack of books that block her view. Allen eyes a handful of escape routes to hide from the older woman before lightning strikes once more and she trips over in shock, dropping her small stack of books, “¡Dios Mio!”

Judgemental asshole Allen may be but heartless he is not. Setting down his bag with a sigh and a roll of the eyes, the student walks over to help the older woman gather herself. Barely avoiding reflexively chiding his elder as he offers her a hand, he helps her up. The attendant pushes a large pair of glasses up her nose and squints at him with a kind smile, “Ah! Gracias, gracias mijo.” She pulls herself up on Allen’s hand and he cringes back as some kind of aftershock of static goes up his arm. Thankfully it doesn’t seem to affect her. Dusting herself off, she does a double take at Allen and adjusts her glasses, “¿Qué te trae aqui hoy, mijo? (What brings you in today dear?)

Allen hesitates, blowing air as he tries to understand why this woman thinks he knows spanish. Scratching the back of his head he finally looks to see the text blazoned across the front desk, El Gustavo Ramirez Museo De Arte Latinoamericano. Putting two and two together as he is ever so proud of doing, Allen immediately apologizes for intruding. “So sorry uh, Ma’am. I didn’t mean to wander into your, uh, space.” gesturing to the woman and the building around him in a manner to distinguish it not so much as beneath him but as an other. Something that is simply a bridge too far for him to gap. “This place isn’t for me so I think I’ll go ahead and step out.” Thunder peels before he can start to gather his things, immediately reminding him why he is in here at all. 

The older woman also relents, switching to English since, despite some instinct saying otherwise, the man before her clearly speaks only english. “Ah don’t you worry yourself mijo. The museum is for all, para todos. Free with your student ID,” she tacks on with a wink. Allen smiles uncomfortably, baring teeth enough that it could be mistaken as a grimace. 

He can’t just tell this old lady that he hasn’t a thought to spare, in his mind: waste, on the collections behind her. Still he doesn’t want to make conversation indefinitely waiting for the storm to clear either. Fearful of the outlet he’s used thus far he convinces himself there must be one hiding somewhere in the exhibition hall. He’ll just pacify her with entry and go find some place in between ostentatious paintings and droll statues to insert himself and get some actual work done.

Producing his ID wordlessly, he hands it to the elderly woman and she quickly shuffles behind her desk to type his name into some registry. Handing it back with a smile she leaves her hand hanging for a shake, “Wonderful to meet you Allan! Soy Lupe Carvajal. But you can call me abuelita, mijo!” Pocketing his ID with a dismissive laugh he notices not that his name is apparently misspelled on his ID card, instead he packs his charger up and shakes Lupe’s hand. “Hah. Uhm, whatever you say Mrs. Carvajal.” Her hand is wrinkled and frail but surprisingly warm, as if his hand were receiving the full body experience of a hug in but a single shake. 

“You know Allan, I must have thought you know spanish because you look quite like my nieto, my grandson.” Allan puffs his cheeks to bite his tongue, holding a picture in his mind of what this granny’s descendants must look like and knowing there’s simply no permutation that lands at himself. She continues, “Es un joven fuerte! Haha!” She does a little bicep pose which allows Allan to understand exactly what she means without her translating. He shyly smiles looking down at his own thin arms and wondering why this lady seems to be mocking him. After doing her bit, Lupe moves to sit at the desk and pulls a book off her stack, “You just let me know if you need anything mijo, si?” Allan nods and reflexively responds, “Si ab- Mrs. Carvajal.”

Odd taste in his mouth at almost calling this random woman grandmas she asked, he shakes it off and wanders into the exhibit hall, decidedly less worried about using her museum’s resources to his own ends. It has probably been over a decade since anyone was able to drag him into an art museum. Even then was he vehemently against wasting his time visiting. He just didn’t get art, and not for not trying. It’s just, aggravating that some people can get so much from some splotches of paint and he just sees a picture on some paper. Feeling himself get riled up he turns to the exhibit hoping for some distraction, which he finds in an elaborate statue of some dog. himself. 

Allan stands beside a huichol coyote covered in beads about two feet high. Spotlighted in the dim gallery he circles it like a predator, inspecting the bright beaded beast from every angle. See this he gets. This took time, this took care. Leaning in close the warmth of the overhead light pleasantly burns the top of his head. Absorbed by the shimmering light off the beads, Allan is unaware as his hair suddenly begins to lengthen. The buzz he has always kept short for sheer manageability begins to curl over his ears, growing warm even quicker as it tints darker. Not quite black but certainly not the blonde shade he was always happy to keep despite his spending as few hours outside as possible.

Before curls can begin to crest over his forehead, his face is not spared the glare of the spotlight. Immediately as his olive eyes glaze over, absorbed into the intricate stitched patterns they begin to stain darker. The jade he has always seen in his own reflection shades darker ever so slightly. Not brown. No he doesn’t have brown eyes, they’re just hazel? His eyebrows match the suddenly darkened hair on his head as he stands staring at the beast. Not expanding to cover more of his face but growing thicker, denser. Almost as if to shade his eyes from the light. His lips thicken as a grin begins to tinge his face. Reaching up Allan feels stubble begin to prickle his chin and upper lip, as if he spent time shaving this morning. 

Allan moans contentedly as he gives in and reaches fully into the spotlight to touch the coyote. Rules and codes of propriety fall to the wayside as he reaches beyond the realm of rationality to touch the statue of the trickster. His hands burn as they tint ever so slightly darker under the glare of the spotlight. As soon as his middle finger feels the warmth of the first bead he recoils in shock. “Q- What?!” He falls onto his ass, no time to inspect his decidedly browner hands as the commotion made immediately summons Abuelita Lupe. The elderly attendant meanders as quickly as she can into the showroom, “¿Qué pasó Alan?” Alan flexes his hand in shock. Whatever just happened it can’t be his fault.  Surely he didn’t just unprompted mess with some artifact on display. “I, um? No sé?” He pauses, unsure of what he just said, nonsense he thinks. “I mean um, I’m not sure?”

Lupe goes to help him up with what little strength she can muster only for him to wave her off, sure that she would only get in the way. He finds standing takes more effort than usual as he does so with a grunt. Nervously patting him on the back, Lupe asks him if he’s alright after the spill, buzzing around him with concerned pleasantries. Alan doesn't quite hear her as he instead inspects his own body. His clothes are tighter. He stretches and pulls at them, presuming them to just be falling weird on him after the fall. But close inspection shows otherwise. Looking at his cardigan it is clearly strained by his chest and stomach. Blushing at the idea he’s put on weight, Alan crosses his arms and notices how snugly his arms fill the sleeves, how his wrists hang out further than they should, not only that but they are unmistakably darker. Not brown, but without a doubt a few shades darker than his usual porcelain tone.

Recovering from being lost in his thoughts he looks to find Lupe staring, “Oh! Lo, uh sorry. Did you uh, ask me something Senora Carvajal?” Looking down at a sharper angle than he did earlier, he sees the abuela looking at his head with a tilt. “Did you do something different with your hair mijo?” eyes narrowing with concern and suspicion he thrusts his hair into his new curls. He immediately gasps in shock before reconsidering. This is how he’s always looked right? 

Thank god his hair is naturally curly so he can just leave them as they fall without much ado. He smiles and shakes his head at Lupe and she nods happily in return. Reaching up she puts her small hand on his bicep and squeezes it, Alan can barely hear her as he is struck with just how powerful his arm seems next to her small hand as she continues, “Well I like it mijo.” With that she aways and leaves Alan be. Having the floor to himself his expression grims as he pulls out his phone to look for a picture of himself. Something is off. His mind tells him everything is normal. When he looks at his hands he sees them as they have always been right? Why would he have a buzz cut when his hair is so naturally nice? Something in his gut screams out that something unnatural is going on. His camera roll should hold proof. Going through his phone he barely holds back a gasp that would surely summon the docent back as he is immediately greeted by a folder of his own nudes.

“Que chingado…” He whispers under his breath as his face burns redder than the scarlet beads on the coyote. He didn’t take these did he? Zooming in he is once more floored to see tattoos on his body. Looking down at his arm he sharply inhales as there's a sting and suddenly his wrist matches the image on his phone. Or no. He’s had that tattoo for years?

 Aghast at himself he still feels he wouldn’t have taken these photos of himself. Vain in many ways, his appearance is not one of them. He wonders if he’s been set up or hacked or something before he reminds himself no one would be able to do so without his knowledge. He’s a pro after all. Mind going to his technical skills, his chest puffs with pride as it grows to match the one he finds in the nudes soft-core and otherwise on his phone. Alan quickly shoves it in his pocket, finding it a much tighter fit than when he retrieved it. 

Looking around nervously, he walks close to the coyote once more. Narrowing his eyes he feels new memories come to mind from his childhood. Memories of hearing story after story of the trickster, he tilts his head as the slightest whiff of something amiss hides behind them. Staring into the eyes of the beast with suspicion the image of reading Greek mythologies by himself fades away to be replaced by his mother telling him stories from her own childhood. The coyote playing tricks and la Llorona terrorizing their little town just to make sure he stays in line. Alan smiles as he shakes out of the reverie, my mom wasn't morena was she? Headache rising as seconds pass standing near the beast he wanders away, muttering to himself without awareness, “didn’t want him in the main hall anyway.”

His hair continues to thicken and curl darker as he moves deeper into the exhibition space. Scratching at his stubble lost in thought he finds it defining itself into a goatee with a matching mustache. His phone still unlocked in his pocket shifts displays his form as he continues to change unawares. He feels himself begin to sweat intensely as his cardigan grows even tighter. His body decides to ramp up his masculinity as he starts to outright swell with muscle. His whole body twitches larger as he briefly recalls Lupe playfully flexing, “un joven fuerte!” He clicks his tongue and grins as he sees his biceps strain his sweater, almost enough to see his button up through the threads. He fights back a smirk feeling his shirt underneath hug the sides of his chest as his soldiers expand. Feeling his thicker pits start to sweat through said shirt and into the jacket he resolves to remove the cardigan.

His struggled grunts echo through the museum space as he struggles to get the cardigan off over his chest. The sound of fabric tearing rips through the room as stitches finally give way down the whole front of the garment, his pecs bursting larger into the open air. The top few buttons of his dress shirt also explode open as he is finally freed from the constricting sweater, “ayy dios- fuck…” He whispers to himself as he appreciates the ice cold air of the museum on his sweaty skin. The white dress shirt may as well be sheer with his sweat soaking it, allowing any gawkers to easily see tattoos running down his arm and the nipples almost poking through the shirt.

Only briefly does he wonder why he’s not self conscious about being exposed in the gallery before he notices a side-exhibition hall. “Ah si, uh. The temporary exhibit,” he whispers dreamily. Keeping quiet as any respectful museum-goer does. Though he doesn’t quite have the bodily awareness to mute his increasingly loud footsteps, each one growing louder as his upper body expands. He looks up to read the title of the exhibit as the sound of his shoulders widen enough to tear the back of his button up. Marichismo: Taking Back Latino Masculinity. He smirks as he finds the idea compelling, he’s uh, not hispanic of course. Nor has he ever been intrigued by ‘art’ in the slightest, he thinks. But something draws him deeper. Something pulls him further. Something in him begs for more.

His pants creak as he crosses the threshold into the new space, his ass expanding beyond the pale. Similarly does his crotch demand both more room and his attention as Arlad is immediately face to face with a deliberately provocative statue. The blush burning his face is just as soon hidden as his tan grows darker as he’s overwhelmed by everything in front of him. It’s as if Tom of Finland were Chicano. Bulges beyond belief force their way out at every angle. Rigid thick mustaches hang stoic on every face as Arlad feels his own stubble grow darker, thicker, itchier.

The student is torn between instincts, just as he feels increasingly torn between two worlds. His body continues ballooning and his shirt bursts clean off, buttons scatter to the floor and sharp tears launch down his arms. He can’t help but hungrily scan the floorspace as the bright lights bore into him, exposing him as if he were a piece of art on display. He looks down just in time to see his cock burst large enough to blow his zipper out which only addles his mind further, “Tal vez, just a minute…” He wanders into the exhibit hall proper as his eyes finally make the jump into a rich chocolate brown. He trips over his feet, gasping as he feels them stuffed uncomfortably tight in his oxfords before kicking off the shoes altogether. Just as soon do his pants rip off and he is left almost entirely nude in this exhibit hall.

His mouth hangs open as his cock acts almost like a dowsing rod in between pieces. The language in which Arcad thinks rapidly begins to change altogether, already a bilingual medley, with each starved look at photographed vaqueros or bulge forward paintings does English drift farther away. Maintaining fluency in both of course, the man would never let that tongue take predominance over that of his madre y su madre before her. His pecs pump even larger with pride as thick curls begin itching up from his crotch. He scratches at his stomach as he smirks at his body finally getting on brand. This whole show is about displaying masculinity and he needs to be the apex. He needs…

Arcad twitches as these definitive thoughts cut through the fog in which he has been going about. Why does he care so much about this place? He doesn’t like art. Certainly not this uh smut. He twitches as he argues that being provocative is the point, sexualization of the male form is the point. Why could he know that? How does he know anything about this exhibit? Looking around at the photographs he sees men who are almost a parody of masculinity. Fighting back the overwhelming pervasive horniness issuing forth from balls bulging larger he takes a deep breath and ignores the temple to the male form around him. 

It’s impossible for him to notice as his thoughts crest fully into español. After all it simply is the language in which he has always thought, no matter what his teachers demand of him. Back to the matter at hand he is struck with the urge to create. Mierda- this exhibition really inspired him, he should really write an essay about this. Or, no. He moans and clutches at his temples as the shining lights out of sight gleam even brighter, sparkling off his sweaty muscled form as he’s racked with the pain of opposing realities. No, that isn’t right. He doesn’t do essays anymore. That’s not how he creates. 

Memories of long hours at the lab and in dark rooms sitting at a keyboard dissipate. Haughty superiority over fields and forms he deems insignificant thankfully blast away as images of the photographs and artworks around him come to mind with an ease that makes him uneasy. Creeping in from the edges of his lived memory are other exhibits, many that he has visited, some that he has put on of his own accord. 

Tattoos continue to drip down his arm as his treasure trail rushes onto his chest, blooming out to cover his pecs. The space in between his mustache and goatee is quickly filled, as are the entirety of his cheeks as his eyes shut even tighter. Independent muscle groups twitch as his body struggles to forge him even larger, to be more. The lengthy curls on his head fall away as his head returns to a buzz cut, this time black as the night. This time impossibly deliberate. 

Arcadio buzzed it himself, he loved his curls. But he knew for this exhibition he had to sacrifice. Anything for his art. The phrase burns across his mind, Marichismo. It, it was his exhibition. Arcadio opens his eyes to find himself standing across from an oppressive statue staring down at him in disdain. His blood boils as his fight or flight activates. Though staying strong he just clenches his fist as his body bulges larger one last time. “Papa.” He made that statue, he isn’t about to be shoved around by his own art. The feeling of confidence filling him at standing up against the domineering statue is more than he could have held within him as Allan. Reverbs of confidence go through his psyche as he finally gets it. Turning around the confidence that fills him rapidly dissipates as he sees a man posing like a dog.

He exercised complete creative control of the exhibition, but did he take this? Memories of being behind the lens of the camera dance through his mind for most of the images, this one seems obscured. He ignores the cold sudden sting of a nose ring as he leans in close to inspect it, smirking all the while. Who’d he get to model this? Looking at the jockstrap he nods approvingly, mierda it is certainly hot though. His underwear stretches to its absolute limit as he forces his large hand down to paw his cock at the image. Looking down at his hairy forearm he gasps as he sees the tattoo on his forearm perfectly matches that of the model. 

At that moment his underwear burst free from his body and he suddenly realizes that being nude in this space is far worse a breach of etiquette than touching that coyote. Arcadio sprints to his bag and digs around for anything he could possibly use to hide his still bulging cock at half mast. “¡Gracias a dios!” he whispers under his breath as he wraps a towel around his waist, perfectly mimicking a photograph behind him. He smirks at the man thinking how proud Jose will be when he gets to see himself on a gallery wall. Arcadio grunts and clenches his head as memories of the man ahead of him fill his mind. Lightheaded he leans against the wall grimacing as he leads a sweaty handprint on the pristine white wall.

Turning around seeing the exhibit hall as a whole he almost falls over with a rush of memories. Advanced math and the life he once lived as Allan are dust in the wind as his childhood growing up the son of first generation immigrants in San Antonio rises to take their place. Living alone with his mother before his abuela moved up from Mexico to help raise him as if he were her son. Understanding himself and the world around him as he discovered who he was and what he had to do. Finally achieving success, winning grants, booking galleries as an artist. Not too bad for a maricon eh? He winks at the statue of his father, smirking as he feels his power as a man and artist grow.

Looking down at some engineering homework scattered from his bag the last pangs of a headache buzzes through him before he shakes his head and the work is gone. The last shreds of a life he once lived dissipate. Walking out into the lobby he sees his abuelita. She smiles at the massive man before adjusting her glasses and shouting out, “¡Ay! ¿Qué estás haciendo? ¡Ponte algo de ropa! (What are you doing! Put some clothes on!)” Arcadio laughs and waves her off, knowing the museum is closed while he preps his exhibition for opening tomorrow. 

His new voice is rich on his tongue as he speaks up, “Espero que les guste. La universidad no sabe lo que pagaron ¡ja! (Hope they like it. The uni doesn’t know what they paid for ha!)” His abuelita clicks her tongue, she loves her grandson more than the world but boy if he hasn’t made her old beyond her years. She digs through the lost and found next to her for something that might fit her larger than life grandson and throws it at him. The man laughs and his abuelita can’t help but join in the reverie. She wouldn’t dream of going through his exhibit- que obsceno, que cachondo! But he could do no real wrong in her eyes. So far he’s blown her expectations out of the water with his success and she can’t wait to see what Arcadio gets up to next.

[reasonsforhope]

"In a major win for the traditional owners of Australia, the federal government has ordered the end of the land leasing program for the Jabiluka uranium deposit, ensuring that mining will never occur on the land owned by the Mirarr people.

At the same time, Prime Minister Anthony Albanese and his coalition added it to the nearby Kakadu National Park, a UNESCO Natural Heritage Site twice the size of Yellowstone.

Various parties to the disagreement over the destiny of Jabiluka described the decision as “a great day for the Mirarr people, for Kakadu, the Northern Territory, and for Australia,” “a genuine and welcome surprise,” and “a reminder of the extraordinary privilege all of us have, to share this continent with the world’s oldest continuous culture.”

The dispute over Jabiluka dates back to 1991, when traditional owners, environmental groups, peace activists, and others protested the granting of a lease for Jabiluka to Energy Resources Australia (ERA) majority-owned by the Australian mining giant Rio Tinto Group.

Located in the Northern Territories, activism by Indigenous owners like the Mirarr and Djot has forced successive administrations to defer or avoid the actual development of the potential mine. This included a road blockade in 1998 during which 500 people were arrested.

The Jabiluka Long-Term Care and Maintenance Agreement signed in February 2005 gave the traditional owners veto rights over the future development of Jabiluka.

Key details about the history of Jabiluka to understand are that the land has been under mining leases for over 30 years, but they’ve never been developed. ERA was not seeking to renew the 10-year lease to try and push forward with uranium mining, as they acknowledge the traditional custodians of the land have the ultimate say as per the 2005 agreement.

ERA stated they sought renewal of the lease in order to secure the asset should the traditional owners ever change their minds. Jabiluka is one of the world’s richest and most extensive uranium deposits ever located.

In 1991, PM Bob Hawke declined to exploit the mine’s riches, as did the Gillard Administration in 2013, but with Rio Tinto and ERA never forsaking the mine as a lost cause, and the Albanese government planning to move forward with nuclear power expansion, the Mirarr and others felt that another, hopefully final push was necessary.

As a result, the federal government provided recommendations to the state government of NT that the will of the people should be respected, and that the lease should not be renewed.

“[It] means there will never be mining at Jabiluka,” Mr. Albanese was quoted as saying last Saturday. “This beautiful part of Australia is home to some of the oldest rock art in the world, a reminder of the extraordinary privilege all of us have, to share this continent with the world’s oldest continuous culture.” ...

Officials from the NT government said the decision was made based on the recommendations from the Coalition government in Sydney, saying that Federal Resources Minister Madeleine King advised that the most important position to respect was that of the Mirarr."

-via Good News Network, July 31, 2024

[godbirdart]

june 21 is national indigenous peoples day up here in canada; a day focused on celebrating the arts and cultures of our indigenous neighbours and communities.

if you’re looking for ways to support, or generally further your education on indigenous history, here are a bunch of links to help you get started! please go further and look up events hosted by your local community specifically, as some may not be listed on the sites below.

remember that if you cannot attend events or monetarily support businesses - you can always boost indigenous artists and voices online too.

indigenous tourism; lists businesses, events, and other indigenous-owned / led programs for the respective province or territory

indigenous tourism canada [generalized resources, event listings etc]

yukon

northwest territories

nunavut

british columbia

alberta

saskatchewan

manitoba

ontario

quebec

newfoundland and labrador

new brunswick

nova scotia

prince edward island

art

bill reid gallery of the northwest coast

lattimer art gallery

native northwest [while NNW itself is not indigenous-owned, it is a good way to discover artists and purchase their work. some artists sell on other sites too, so look around]

strong nations [sells books by indigenous authors]

education and resources

two-spirited people of manitoba

alberta indigenous history timeline [pdf]

alberta indigenous history resources

british columba history timeline

list of first nations peoples [wikipedia; could be incomplete / inaccurate]

cbc indigenous [indigenous-focused news]

missing and murdered indigenous women and girls

national centre for truth and reconciliation

native land interactive map

orange shirt day

qikiqtani truth commission

lil’ red dress project

whose land interactive map

charities / support / donations

clan mothers healing billage & knowledge centre

first nations health authority

indian residential schools survivor society

indigenous peoples resilience fund

qajuqturvik food bank

niqinik nuatsivik nunavut food bank

nunavut food security coalition

reconciliation canada

urban native youth association

additional links are always appreciated

[the-badger-mole]

Father of the Bride

Hakoda swallowed hard against a lump in his throat. He had imagined this day so many times since Katara's birth. The details were different, though. She wasn't marrying a proven warrior from among their people. That was fine. She had spent so much time traveling the world, expanding her horizons, creating her own paths. Hakoda didn't think there were one in a thousand men at home who could keep up with the woman his daughter had become, and he had resigned himself to the fact that she might not end up with a Southern Tribe man years ago.

But he hadn't considered that her marriage might take her so permanently from home. A foolish oversight on his part, he admitted. And at least she would have the means to visit her family a few times a year. Still, he felt a pang. Same one he felt when he left his children behind with Kanna to go fight a war too big for him. Now that pang was tempered with bittersweet happiness as he watched the final preparations being made on Katara's wedding gown-a stunning piece of art even to Hakoda's untrained eye. All silks and linens in shades of blue and silver that recalled the bridal outfits of her homeland. Furs and leathers would be too hot for the climate, but Katara wanted to tell everyone up front how she would bring her own culture to merge with her new people. Her groom-to-be not only supported this decision, but had come to Hakoda and Sokka to ask them how he, too, could incorporate the Southern Water Tribe into the wedding on his end. That had been a long night, with strong drinks and stronger emotions, but at the end of it, Hakoda had decided that despite his initial misgivings about the marriage, he couldn't have picked a better son-in-law than Zuko.

Fire Lord Zuko. Fire Lord Zuko was going to be his son-in-law. Sometimes the thought made Hakoda chuckle. Sometimes it sent a chill down his spine. Not that he was worried about Zuko himself, but Katara's proximity to his throne. The crown. She would be coronated the next night in a ceremony as lavish as the wedding. She would become the Fire Lady. Co-ruler of the country that had spent a hundred years ruining countless lives with a war over something as silly as imperialist pride. Hakoda didn't think they deserved his daughter. If Zuko had earned his trust and respect, the rest of the Fire Nation certainly haven't. Not the nobles, anyway. When he brought them up to Katara, she laughed, though it didn't reach her eyes, which were flint hard and grimly determined. She told him no matter where she went in the world, she would have to fight for any respect she got. At least here she would have Zuko fighting beside her. Hakoda wasn't sure he agreed that was a worthy trade off, but he knew better than to try to talk his daughter out of it.

The Fire Nation had already benefited from her presence. As a foreign advisor, she had fostered trade and exchange agreements between the Fire Nation and all of the Water Tribes, Omashu and Gaoling. As an ambassador, she'd helped negotiate reparation packages that have helped the parts of the world hit hardest by the war recover. As one of Zuko's most trusted counselors, she'd helped him work the Fire Nation's budget so the government could provide for education, health and services for returning soldiers. The same kinds of programs she'd helped Hakoda and Sokka build in the Southern Water Tribe. It suddenly struck Hakoda that she had been acting as Fire Lady for a long time. Before she and Zuko had even realized they were in love, maybe. Today and tomorrow would just make it official. Hakoda still didn't think the Fire Nation deserved a Katara, but any chance he had of talking her out of it had long since slipped by him. And he now he wasn't sure he would talk her out of it, even if he did have the chance.

The final touches were done. The maids stepped back in a flurry of excited chatter. Kanna stepped forward, moving stiffly in her old age, smiling up at her granddaughter through tears. She had had this moment with Kya years ago, and Kya should be standing in her place now. Kanna reached out and ran her fingertips over the necklace she had passed to her daughter, and her daughter had passed on to Katara. Kya was here, Kanna assured herself. And Kya would be here with Katara as she made these next steps, first as a wife, then as a queen, then someday as a mother and grandmother herself.

"She would be so proud," Kanna told Katara. The two women embraced. Then Katara stood up, head high and looking as regal as any queen in any nation ever had, and turned to Hakoda.

"Are you ready, Dad?" she asked. Hakoda shook his head.

"I was never going to be ready for this," he confessed. "But it doesn't matter. You are ready."

[littletism]

🎒✏️🍎 weekend activity for littles! turn your house into a school! 🍎✏️🎒

prepare your schedule the night before! what classes will you do at what time? what order will you do them in? write it down! set alarms on your phone for when each class will be, so you know when to switch!

don’t forget to prepare worksheets, activities, and make sure you know what rooms you’re using! if you have a cg, this job is best suited for them!

class ideas: math, spelling, writing, social studies/history, science, art, music, etc!

“downtime” class ideas: naptime, free time, movie time, free draw, computer lab, play time

wake up bright and early! get dressed, brush your teeth, brush your hair, and get your school supplies! go into the room that you’ve designated as your classroom!

if you have a cg, have them be your teacher for the day! if you don’t have one, that’s okay! you can do all of this by yourself pretty easily.

if the room has a closet, use that as your cubby! hang up your bag and any other belongings in it!

get ready for your school day! sit down on the floor like you would in a preschool or kindergarten classroom, and get ready to learn!

ideas on what to do for each class under the cut (to avoid this post being way too long!)

math

print out some math worksheets (or download and do them digitally, bonus points if it’s on a tablet with a stylus for extra realism!) and work on them! do whatever level of math is most accessible to you!

count stuff! count your toys, blocks, stuffies, anything! make problems and equations by taking away items, adding items, dividing items, etc and solve them!

play math games! multiplication .com has a lot of accessible math games, or you can use the flashpoint program to play math games from your favorite tv shows!

ELA

print/download handwriting practice sheets and practice writing your letters!

if you have a cg with you, have them read a book out loud to you! make sure to pay attention, and be prepared to write about what was just read to you!

read your favorite book, and create a book report based on it with pictures and decorations!

do spelling worksheets and exercises!

social studies

practice geography by identifying states or countries on an unlabeled map! start with your own country, then move on to other countries to make it more challenging!

learn about history by watching educational history cartoons!

do a cultural interview! find someone in your life whether it be a friend, a partner, or a family member and interview them about their heritage and culture! if you can’t find someone, write about your own culture!

science

use a store bought science kit and play around with it! write down everything you’ve learned.

make slime or oobleck! there’s countless recipes online that teach you how to make them! they’re both super easy to make.

draw a diagram of our solar system! label the planets properly and write one fact about each one!

art

draw your family! could be your biological or found family!

finger paint!

watercolor paint!

make pottery out of clay or play doh!

make a collage of your favorite things! print out pictures of stuff you like and glue it to a piece of paper!

music

sing along to your favorite songs! pull up sing-along versions of songs from disney movies or karaoke versions of your favorite songs!

if you have any kind of instrument, play it! try to play simple songs on it like mary had a little lamb or hot cross buns!

if you’re regressed a bit older, study sheet music! teach yourself what all the symbols mean!

nap time

take a 30 minute break to nap, or just lay down and rest! put on a soft lullaby or a quiet song you really like.

to make it more “school-like”, nap on the floor! preferably on a fluffy rug or mat, so it isn’t uncomfortable or bad for your back! lay out your favorite blanket, pillow, stuffie, and hit the hay!

play time / free time

just play!!! have fun and play with your toys, your stuffies, play dress up, etc!

if it’s nice outside, go play outside!

draw a picture!

read your favorite book!

if you’re an over-achiever, do some more worksheets!

computer lab

go on your computer or laptop if you have one, and play some educational games, watch educational videos, etc!

when you’ve done an adequate amount of learning, you earn free time! use this to play any fun game you want! (minecraft, roblox, animal jam, fun flash games, etc!)

field trips

(may require a cg if you can’t take yourself places when small!)

take a trip to a museum!

go to the library! find a cool book you find interesting and read it!

take a walk around town! write down all the interesting things you find in nature like animals, bugs, plants, etc!

end of the day

when your “school day” ends, have your cg grade how you did! if you don’t have a cg, grade yourself! but be honest, of course. if you get a good grade, you’ll get a reward!

i know this is elaborate and may seem silly, but i’ve heard a lot of littles say an elementary school environment would be really beneficial to them! i hope this helps some of you who are yearning for that!

[disillusioneddanny]

If It Makes You Happy (then why the hell are you so sad?)

Tim took a bite of his ravioli and looked around the table at his family. It was Sunday dinner. A monthly tradition where every member of the family adopted or otherwise came to spend a few hours together. It didn’t matter who was arguing with whom, or how estranged from the family you were at the time. You still had to attend the monthly family dinner. However, there were times when Tim wondered if anyone would notice if he stopped attending. If he no longer came to the dinners where he sat mostly unnoticed by the rest of his family. Where he typically sat in silence, having not uttered a single word throughout the entire event. Would they ever realize he was gone? Did they even realize he was there in the first place? 

A part of Tim truly doubted it, if he was being completely honest with himself. Maybe that was why he hadn’t been able to share with the family his upcoming exhibit. 

Tim was in his fourth year of college. Where he was getting a degree in Art, Technology, and Culture. It was a major that allowed Tim to immerse himself in photography, video art, creative coding, and so much more. He had gotten to work in traditional analog and digital photography. Played around with film and art in ways he had never thought of before while also learning about cultural theory, the expression of ideas, and cultural practices which gave him the chance to truly discover himself. It was the first time he had ever chosen something for himself. 

His entire life he had been groomed to run a business. To at first take over Drake Industries one day and then later Wayne Enterprises where he was unfortunately CEO. But then he had learned about the ATC program at Gotham University and he had fallen in love with it.  He had always been obsessed with photography and even film later on as he grew older and spent his days alone in dusty old Drake Manor. And he had always loved to learn about cultures, he ate up the stories from his parents and their trips abroad. Had spent countless nights watching the people of Gotham and how they did things, and had absorbed it all like a sponge to make up for the fact that he was just a lonely boy living in a manor by himself. 

Even when he had joined the Bats and had made his tiny little place with them, he still fell back on his love for learning about others and his desire to tell their stories. It had just become an intrinsic part of Timothy Drake. 

And now here he was, slowly creeping to the finish line. He had his senior showcase coming up. A requirement for all students who were receiving a bachelor of fine arts. He was to show off all of his best work from the last four years. It was a chance for him to show everything he had learned, and to display his work with pride. 

He had toyed with the idea of inviting everyone to it. To let them see the love that Tim had cultivated over the last four years. He was set to graduate in just a few months and the pride he felt for himself was tremendous. And if Tim invited the Wayne family to his senior showcase, then maybe they could come to his college graduation and share the achievement with them then too. 

It was a big time in Tim’s life and he wanted to share it with them. 

He listened as a lull came in the conversation and carefully cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the others. 

“I have a senior showcase this weekend for my BFA. It’s at six in the evening in the Wayne Arts Center on Gotham Campus. I would be happy to see you all there,” he said hesitantly, eyes firmly trained on his plate of food. 

“That sounds nice, Tim. I’ll try to be there,” Bruce said politely before going back to his conversation with Jason and Dick. Tim felt eyes on him, though, and slowly looked up to find his little brother giving him a curious look. 

“What?” He asked, still trying to calm his heart just a bit. He still wasn’t sure why he came to these things, why he was even here. Just talking to the Waynes gave him anxiety. Just being here reminded him how much he didn’t belong. How other he was compared to the rest of the kids that Bruce had adopted? 

Damian tilted his head to the side. “I was not aware that you were getting your Bachelor's in Fine Arts. Will you tell me about your degree program? I have been thinking about getting an Art History degree but have been torn between that and a business degree.”

Tim gave him a small smile and rested his chin on his hand as he started to tell Damian all about his degree and how he was enjoying the program at Gotham University. The rest of the family went on to their own conversations while Damian listened with rapt attention to Tim describing the ATC program at Gotham U. 

The rest of the week was a whirlwind as he prepared for his senior showcase, he had sent out invitations to everyone he wanted to come see his work. The Team had already made a reservation to take Tim to lunch before the showcase before helping him get everything ready. And as the day came to be, they had made good on their word, taking him to his favorite Vietnamese restaurant in Gotham before taking him to the gallery. He blushed as he listened to his three best friend gush over his artwork, as they listened to him explain each piece. They asked questions and made remarks about what their favorite pieces were and even tried to buy a few pieces only for Tim to promise to give each of them prints of his photos. 

The three had left with quick goodbyes, each one giving Tim a hug and congratulating him before they made their way from the gallery. The rest of the evening dragged on as people came by and asked Tim about his photos and the small films that played on the movie screen on one wall. He smiled and explained each photo to anyone who asked. He had wanted to showcase his vigilante photos of the bats and birds but it had been too much of a risk to do so. 

Instead he had shown off his photos that showcased all of his favorite parts of Gotham. From the beautiful gothic architecture, the gargoyles that looked out over the city. He showed the photos from the last time Ivy had thrown a fit in Robinson Park and covered the entirety of the grounds with flowers. He showed the pictures of community from Crime Alley and the beauty of the strength of Gothamites who had managed to survive the worst of the worst. 

He also featured pictures of his family, of Dick hanging from a chandelier, of Damian training Titus to do a trick. He had a picture of Bruce, Alfred, and Jason sitting side by side as they each read a different book. One showed Cass as she posed for the camera in her favorite ballet form. They were some of his most treasured memories, there for everyone to see and enjoy. Tucker between the one of Damian and the one of Dick was a photo of Tim. He had taken forever to set up the camera and get the timer right. Alfred had simply chuckled the entire time as he continued to offer to take the picture for Tim but no one was meant to be behind the camera for that picture. It was the only family portrait of his entire family. Cass, Damian, Tim, Dick, Jason, Bruce, Alfred, they all sat smushed into a single couch together, wide smiles and laughs on each of their faces as Tim beamed from the far side, leaning into Alfred’s side. 

The gallery was meant to showcase culture that was important to Tim. To showcase the life that he loved and treasured. And even if he never felt like he quite fit in the Wayne Family, even though he knew that he was the expendable one, the replacement, he still treasured his family. It was why he had invited them, he had wanted them to see just how important they were to Tim. And maybe they would realize he was important to them too.

Only, the rest of the evening seemed to drag on, and not a single person from his family ever stepped through the door. He waited, shoulders tensed and smile polite. Every bit the gentleman that Janet Drake had trained him to be as he stood with his hands clasped in front of him. He kept glancing at the clock, waiting for Bruce or Dick or someone to walk through the doors, to say hello and look at all the work that Tim had put in the last four years in college. The hours ticked by until it was nearing ten pm and the gallery started to clear out, custodians came in and started to clean up around him. 

Tim cast one final look at the doors before he turned to his photos and started to take one off of the wall. 

“Master Timothy! I am so sorry that we are late,” a voice said and Tim quickly to find Alfred and Damian walking through the doors of the gallery. A small smile spread on Tim’s face as Damian bound forward. 

“I apologize,” Damian said softly, staring up at Tim with disgruntled eyes. “I got into an argument with Father and then Titus scared Alfred the Cat and we spent the last three hours searching for that blasted cat and when we realized the time we came straight here,” he said. “What did the others think of your exhibit?”

Tim’s smile fell and he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “They uh, they didn’t show up,” he said quietly. “But if you’d like, you guys are the last ones to show up. I’d love to show you everything.”

Alfred’s face fell at that as he stepped forward and clasped a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “That is their loss, my dear boy. I would love to see your work,” he said. Before he could stop himself, Tim pulled Alfred in for a tight hug, burying his face in the old butler’s chest as he held him close. 

“Thank you,” he whispered before pulling away. He glanced down at Damian and smiled. “How about I show you my work and then if my advisor is still here you can meet her and talk to her about the ATC program.”

The fourteen-year-old nodded his head once. “I would appreciate that,” he said before grabbing Tim’s hand hesitantly. He followed quietly as Tim showed them his pictures of Gotham, explaining the stories behind each one before he showed them his favorite pictures. His pictures of home and both men let out soft gasps as they looked at them. 

“Master Timothy, these are beautiful,” Alfred said, stepping forward to take in the picture of him, Bruce, and Jason. 

“The lighting for this is amazing, I did not know that I even smiled like that,” Damian said softly as he took in the picture of him smiling at Titus. 

“Oh Tim,” Alfred said quietly, losing all strict politeness that Alfred held so dear to his heart as he took in the family portrait. “This is amazing, Timothy. So absolutely perfect. I remember when you took this photograph. It was right after Thanksgiving dinner last year.”

“I was so irritated, Todd had gotten mashed potatoes in my hair,” Damian said with a huff, a small smile tugged on his face. 

“I did not even realize that Master Richard and Master Jason were hugging in this picture,” Alfred said, a soft smile sti on his face as he took in the way Dick had his arms wrapped around Jason’s shoulders, a wide smile on his face as he laughed at something Jason had said. A small smile sat on Jason’s face, his eyes brighter than Tim had seen since the older man had come back from the dead. 

Alfred tore his eyes from the picture. “How much?” he asked. 

Tim blinked. “What?”

“How much for the picture?” Alfred asked him, turning back to the family portrait. 

“For you?” Tim asked, blinking again in surprise. “Free of charge, considering it a thank you for coming to my senior showcase.”

“I would like this one of Titus and me,” Damian piped up. “It would be lovely on my desk in my bedroom.”

Tim sniffed, his chest tightening slightly. “I would be more than happy to give you both the original copies.”

“Timothy,” Alfred said, turning back to Tim, that soft, kind, smile on his face once again. “I am so incredibly proud of you.”

The vigilante’s eyes burned furiously. “I-I thank you,” he said, a soft sob slipped out of his mouth before small arms wrapped around him. Damian hugged him tight, his face pressed against Tim’s chest. 

“I am so sorry that our family forgot to come to your showcase, Timothy,” he said stiffly. “You are incredibly talented and it is their loss for missing out on this.”

Tim pressed a hand to Damian’s back, feeling tears building behind his eyes that threatened to spill over. “Thank you,” he whispered. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he looked around and spotted his advisor. “There’s Professor Maheshawen. She’s my advisor. We can go talk to her and you can ask your questions, okay?”

Damian nodded and pulled away carefully, smoothing down the front of his sweater before he followed after Tim to meet his professor. Leaving Alfred to continue staring at the pictures with a kind smile on his face.

Alfred Pennyworth looked at the smiles on his charges faces and let out a breath. One of these days, Bruce and the others would realize just how important Timothy was to their family, how he was the one who held them all together. He only hoped that they would not realize that lesson too late in life. At the very least, Damian was now starting to understand just how wonderful Timothy Drake was. 

[yandere-daydreams]

Alhaitham makes you debate him after you've been granted the privilege of reading a book, in order to make sure you're appreciating his generosity enough. Probably makes you fill out book reports too

wait i actually have thotz,,, i usually try not to be too much of an english major in public but,,,, fndlskfjk let me have this one.

the akademiya canonically undervalues art/culture programs, meaning that their most of their scholars have probably never taken a proper literature course,,, for someone as analytic as alhaitham, i could see him being used to purely engaging with books on, like, the level of someone trying to memorize a text book, so when you pick your favorite thousand-page high-fantasy erotica for this week's involuntary book club, he just. does not know how to approach it. usually he takes your ""discussions"" as an opportunity to lord his knowledge and eloquence over you, but the best he can do is a spark-notes summary and a few themes he thinks he might've caught between sex-scenes. you talk for a solid five hours about the characterization and the running motifs and how it's all a metaphor for the horror of intimacy and the way human beings tend to connect love with vulnerability, and all he can do is sit there in total silence, trying to find something to say that's on the same level as "what if the curtains are just blue". book club is permanently canceled the next day.

[sunderwight]

y'know what, I think it's kind of interesting to bring up Data from Star Trek in the context of the current debates about AI. like especially if you actually are familiar with the subplot about Data investigating art and creativity.

see, Data can definitely do what the AI programs going around these days can. better than, but that's beside the point, obviously. he's a sci-fi/fantasy android. but anyway, in the story, Data can perfectly replicate any painting or stitch a beautiful quilt or write a poem. he can write programs for himself that introduce variables that make things more "flawed", that imitate the particular style of an artist, he can choose to either perfectly replicate a particular sort of music or to try and create a more "human" sounding imitation that has irregular errors and mimics effort or strain. the latter is harder for him that just copying, the same way it's more complicated to have an algorithm that creates believable "original" art vs something that just duplicates whatever you give it.

but this is not the issue with Data. when Data imitates art, he himself knows that he's not really creating, he's just using his computer brain to copy things that humans have done. it's actually a source of deep personal introspection for the character, that he believes being able to create art would bring him closer to humanity, but he's not sure if he actually can.

of course, Data is a person. he's a person who is not biological, but he's still a person, and this is really obvious from go. there's no one thing that can be pointed to as the smoking gun for Data's personhood, but that's normal and also true of everyone else. Data's the culmination of a multitude of elements required to make a guy. Asking if this or that one thing is what makes Data a person is like asking if it's the flour or the eggs that make a cake.

the question of whether or not Data can create art is intrinsically tied to the question of whether or not Data can qualify as an artist. can he, like a human, take on inspiration and cultivate desirable influences in order to produce something that reflects his view on the world?

yes, he can. because he has a view on the world.

but that's the thing about the generative AI we are dealing with in the real world. that's not like Data. despite being referred to as "AI", these are algorithms that have been trained to recognize and imitate patterns. they have no perspective. the people who DO have a perspective, the humans inputting prompts, are trying to circumvent the whole part of the artistic process where they actually develop skills and create things themselves. they're not doing what Data did, in fact they're doing the opposite -- instead of exploring their own ability to create art despite their personal limitations, they are abandoning it. the data sets aren't like someone looking at a painting and taking inspiration from it, because the machine can't be inspired and the prompter isn't filtering inspiration through the necessary medium of their perspective.

Data would be very confused as to the motives and desires involved, especially since most people are not inhibited from developing at least SOME sort of artistic skill for the sake self-expression. he'd probably start researching the history of plagiarism and different cultural, historical, and legal standards for differentiating it from acceptable levels of artistic imitation, and how the use of various tools factored into it. he would cite examples of cultures where computer programming itself was considered a form of art, and court cases where rulings were made for or against examples of generative plagiarism, and cases of forgeries and imitations which required skill as good if not better than the artists who created the originals. then Geordi would suggest that maybe Data was a little bit annoyed that people who could make art in a way he can't would discount that ability. Data would be like "as a machine I do not experience annoyance" but he would allow that he was perplexed or struggling to gain internal consensus on the matter. so Geordi would sum it up with "sometimes people want to make things easy, and they aren't always good at recognizing when doing that defeats the whole idea" and Data would quirk his head thoughtfully and agree.

then they'd get back to modifying the warp core so they could escape some sentient space anomaly that had sucked the ship into intermediate space and was slowly destabilizing the hull, or whatever.

anyways, point is -- I don't think Data from Star Trek would be a big fan of AI art.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

so, i’m currently taking a west civics class in college, and i am currently researching ancient greek civilizations, most notably, the arts and culture of ancient greece. i know you have written a fic based on its mythological stories, with minotaur könig (bless your beautiful soul).

but through my readings, i couldn’t help but come up with such a dirty daydreams while in class. i couldn’t stop myself from thinking about könig and… the ancient olympics…

i know, realistically speaking, women were not allowed to attend or watch these games for the most part. so, in a universe where könig’s dedication not only falls upon him being a top man, but being the perfect man in honor of being recognized by the god of strength himself, he becomes so enticing in the way he trains and readies himself for such a significant event of his life. he’s never really had much to care for, neither does he need to prioritize anything that isn’t him or his training. he’s a workhorse, nothing stopping him from being the best, most valuable follower of zeus. that is… until…

well, it was your fault, and you admit that, but he wasn’t stopping you either. i mean, who could blame you, this little thing sneaking and peeping at a man who’s at work in order to provide to cute women like yourself. in fact, you argue that this was your way of appreciating a man, to observe them in their element in such a loving gaze. it didn’t help that könig was a man who preferred to train naked too, in all his glory, so of course there was no missing you, you were just too obvious for a man like him to notice you.

and with every grunt he’d give after each swing of a fist or a blade, a mew is what you’d give in return, your own form of a cheer for him to keep going. and you promised you didn’t mean to stare and make distracting noises, but an innocent maiden like yourself was just too hypnotized by this new anatomy that was found between this man’s legs. so outspoken, so dirty for your mouth to spew such beautiful filth to a stranger.

was this könig’s new test of endurance? part of the program to make him stronger for the olympic event that was just around the corner. he has heard man advising others to refrain from sex before the games, but he hadn’t even been given the chance to work on that since no one was bold enough to approach him like you did. he wonders, does fucking before a game really make a man weak, does thinking about shoving his big dumb cock in his soon-to-be wife distract him too much to succeed? perhaps, perhaps not, one thing he does know though, he’s got someone else to honor and worship, which makes his training all the more necessary.

Oh my god….. I’m totes not getting caught up in the fact that women were not allowed to participate in these activities….

This led me to think, what if some misbehaving little creature decided to peep at this Hercules reborn? She gets caught one day, but because she’s absolutely carefree and unhinged, she asks König if he could show her how to train.

CW: Nudity, implied sexism/misogyny (Ancient Greek society thang), teasing König to the point where he gets a boner and growls

Our Olympian hero gets so confused that he forgets he was supposed to report you or throw you out of the gym. Outside, where birds fly free and the sun tortures the trainees, he has picked a spot where he can train in solitude and silence: for some reason, other people’s stares make him uncomfortable… Until this curious, sweet little nymph came around, perched atop a wide rock, munching some wild mountain herb as she watched him train.

He allowed her to watch him train for two days, but on the third, he marched over to her and told her she needs to leave. Women are not allowed here, doesn’t she know that? Where are her parents? Does she have a husband?

No, no husband, and her parents don’t really care what she does. Well, this explains why she’s behaving this way. Running around the hillside so untame, watching men train—can’t she see she’s putting herself in danger? Any one of these men could decide to just take her on the barren land if she’s not careful.

She just giggles and asks, would he like to take her? Then points out that men shouldn’t waste their seed before a big competition. Also, Zeus’s wife would not think well of him if she saw him rut innocent women on the hill... There’s nothing but heaven above them, surely someone would see. The gods could curse him with a weak ankle, or a sprained muscle, a failing heart or a snake bite…

“All right, all right, that’s enough,” he says, but there’s even worse to come.

Next, she asks if he could show her how to lift those smaller rocks, how to throw a javelin or a discus. Could he teach her how to wrestle…?

“Absolutely not,” he scoffs while his groin floods with warmth at the thought of wrestling with this pretty, wonton woman. She’s absolutely disgraceful, and yet, he doubts she’s running from man to man, teasing them to death. She’s not begging to get raped, she’s just… a little gullible, or something. Happened to take interest in him, little thing. As she should, after all, he’s the pride of this city...

“You fear I’ll become better than you?” She asks with little stars in her stare.

“Bah. Don’t be ridiculous...”

They’re both smiling, now. This kind of banter and games he has never experienced with a lady, she’s making him extremely uncomfortable and at the same time, fly high like Icarus. He’ll have to be careful he doesn’t get burned…

When he still refuses to show her how to train, she shrugs and goes over to the wooden javelin that’s taller than her. Picking it up, he expects the gods to smite her down with a sudden hail or thunder, but nothing happens. The sun keeps on shining, and the sheep keep on baaing. She weighs it with two hands, then starts to look for a spot to try and throw it.

“Wait,” he calls after her, but she only looks back at him with a smile. Picks off to run, with the javelin securely in her right hand, she runs like a deer while he lumbers after her, completely perplexed.

Insufferable woman… He’s growing hard from the cock as he runs, somehow aroused by this silly chase. Like Apollo trying to court Daphne, but his Daphne is not meek and unwilling; she’s giggling as he huffs and runs after her like a stumbling giant.

At a distant field of nothing but rock and weather-beaten flowers, she stops. Shields her eyes as she looks for a perfect spot, she’s not even breathless when he finally catches her. She turns around to look at her hero, catching his breath in the sun.

“You’re not fit enough for a marathon,” she comments. “Did you lift too many weights?”

“Give me the javelin,” he pants, dismissing her blunt analysis of his weaknesses. Stepping towards her, he extends his hand, offering her a chance to return it to him without fuss.

“Wrestle it from me,” she smiles, so playfully and brightly that his cock suffers another throb.

Gods damn this woman... She’s toying, playing with him, teasing him to the point where he’s left no choice.

He doesn’t want to hurt her, which means the “wrestling” becomes an awkward battle of snickers and limbs. His cock gets in the way, and to an outsider, this might look like a scene of an oddly gentle, upcoming rape… This little minx is giving him such an ache in his head and his loins that he’s gritting his teeth by the time he gets his hands around the wooden spear. By then, she has her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms above her head as she’s lying on her back with him on top of her.

“I’m not letting go,” she laughs as they both hold the spear, his erection now blissfully trapped between her legs.

“Who sent you,” he grunts, head spinning as he tries to figure out which of the gods is trying to give him trouble this time.

“What do you mean…?”

“You’re here to thwart and tease me. Tell me who sent you, now.”

“You think I’m sent by some angry god?”

Her eyes sparkle even more, if possible. She even giggles under him and under the sun, her laugh like a thousand little bells in his ears.

“That’s so cute…!”

His grunts turn into a hollow, painful growl – even Tartaros is better than this.

“Train me, and I’ll let you have your silly javelin,” she smiles, even licking her lips before they purse together innocently.

But he knows she’s far from innocent. She has to be a curse of some sort, a plight sent here to torment him, because he finds himself sighing, “Alright…”

He gives her one condition: she has to wear clothes; no flaunting herself around him and especially not around the other men if they were to ever see her. They will both get flogged or worse if this mockery comes to daylight… She gives him a soft, adoring smile this time, and says of course, whatever he says.

The next day, she’s waiting for him at the training grounds, javelin in her hands…

Completely, utterly naked.

[teaboot]

Your post about art vs content got me thinking about the differences between the two. To me there is no difference besides the mindsets. One is of creator and the enjoyer, the other is content and consumer it removes the personhood, the joy/emotion, from the equation. Like a writer or video creator may not see their work as art so content creator maybe a way to refer to themselves comfortably but it sounds so machine, emotionless and lifeless, like a cookie cutter recipe mass producing something verses people lovingly crafting something...then again Disney uses a cookie cutter recipe for the most part and it brings out bangers cause people lovingly make it their own so maybe I'm thinking too hard on this

Does my long-winded rant make sense?

see, I get what you mean, but I still feel like the willingness to entertain calling art of any kind "content" reduces it to the facet of consumption where in reality, the experience of consuming art is not the sole defining trait of it.

Reducing arts like music, writing, painting, dance, voice acting, theater, etc. to the role of "content"- a thing created to be consumed, measured and valued by how pleasant or easy it is to digest- I feel that it was our biggest red flag to herald the incoming tide of AI "art".

Because if art is "content", if arts are nothing but consumable matter, then obviously the key to success is to produce as much soft, tasty, edible paste as we possibly can at the lowest possible expense.

It's the same issue I have with "meal replacements", diet culture, nutrient slurries, twenty-step skincare routines, 24/7 body padding and shapewear and laxative teas and "grind culture". It's not a cause, but a symptom, of the disease that is late-stage capitalism.

Things must be produced at low cost and remain in high demand forever. Things must be perfect and palatable and the new hit trend forever. People must pay hand over fist to consume without asking anything in return, and if they start dropping like flies at the unending unrewarded thankless demand of it all, then that must be treated as a weakness. We should all take pride in how much we can spend, pay, give, produce, and think as little as possible about what we ask for ourselves.

So, who cares if, of two identical paintings, one was made by a person and one was made by a computer program? It's the same work, so what does it matter? What does it matter?

I am an artist. I make art. I ask a question, make a statement, declare something horrific or challenging or upsetting or wrong or grotesque, and when you respond, we are together experiencing a conversation. We are existing, two people living one life and reaching out and touching across time and space. No matter the work, you're at the barest minimum saying, "I'm alive, and you're alive, and at one time or another we shared this same world, and at the end of the day we aren't too terribly different. My heart is worth sharing, and your heart is worth the struggle of understanding."

An AI-generated piece, a computer-generated voice, a CGI puppet of someone long since dead and gone, they cannot speak. They have no voice. Ay best, they are the most chewable, consumable, landlord-beige common denominator possible that you can sit and listen to like the lone survivor of a shipwreck listening to the same three songs on a broken record, and at worst, they're the uncaring vomit of an empty, unloving, value-addled hack wearing the skin of someone I know over their own.

When you abandon art to say that you make content, that should not be a point of pride. That's an embarrassment. That's not sitting down for an intelligent discussion with an equal, that's kneeling at the feet of the crowd and saying, "what do you want to see me do? I can be anyone you've ever loved. I can be them, I can be anyone, as long as you love me."

I can make content. I can be consumed. What do you want to consume? I'll make myself consumable. I'll make myself just like anything you like. And I'll make so much of it that you'll never have to go anywhere else, because it'll all be right here, and under all the cut-and-paste schlock you've seen before I will sit alone in the dark and the silence and I will know that I am safe, because I am valued, because I am desired, and I need to be desired or else I am worthless like a factory that no longer churns out steel or a hen that no longer lays eggs or a cow that is too old to make milk.

Content, the most literal meaning, is something which is contained inside a container. What it is doesn't really matter, and the best it can hope to be is something worthy of being scooped out and used.

Art is an experience that transcends value. Art is something you can eat without paying for. You can make it out of anything and anyone can do it. It can be crude and vulgar and bad, and that's a strength because it means something. It always, always means something, and it doesn't matter if you like it or not. It's not content because it doesn't fill anything. It's a living, breathing thing, and whether you want to birth it or eat it, then you're going to have to be willing to put the fucking work in

[koiiiji]

tourists

summary; your boyfriend loves traveling around the world with you, to explore new tastes, share new memories together and experience some local culture.

tw ; fluff, established relationships, chris being gentle giant and your pookie

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

just as soon as chris finished trainings and won latest championship, his sponsor offered him opportunity to travel to Korea - to evaluate some new possible team members and train them. honestly chris didn’t really cared about new people in team, real interesting fact for him was newfound possibility to visit another continent and try new, local cuisine, and oh, of course he didn’t forget that you also had an area where your enthusiasm went wild. so before agreeing to this trip Chris requested two visas permissions, including flight tickets and went home with a calm soul, in anticipation of telling you good news.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

it’s been a while since you and Chris went somewhere on vacation. of course you followed him around on all his competitions, to show your support and assistance, if it was needed, but you honestly missed weekends when it was just you and your boyfriend. you missed time when you two explored new country through your own ways - Chris with his unstoppable urge to eat and endless stomach and you through the fashion. oh, how you like to explore new places with small shops that sells local handmade (bonus points for Chris if it's food, like homemade honey or jam, canned vegetables, local pastries or any kind of homemade alcohol), souvenir shops, shops of local brands, everything that is somehow connected with the new place where you just arrived and what it could be attributed to fashion or collecting!

there is a theory that if your energy doesn't match, or if you can't stand each other on vacation, then your relationship won't work out. well, you and Chris didn't have that problem. you have an idyll in this regard - all the places, and in general everything related to eating, were planned by Chris with special passion and trepidation. restaurants, cafes with good reviews and large portions, street food shops with the juiciest items, fairs where you can taste traditional dishes and see how they are prepared.

on the other hand, the cultural program was on you - museums, temples, exhibitions, where Chris obediently followed you as long as he was well-fed enough (you put an extra note in your head - to not leave a building if Chris hungry, pookie becomes really moody and whiny if he doesn’t eat enough… he is really dependent on food). and of course shopping - honestly, Chris shared your passion for souvenir shops. he could fill his stomach as much as he wanted, but you couldn't bring food with you as a memory, but collecting symbols in the form of animals from each country sounded fun. he has a separate shelf with a variety of animals that represent each country, and they all are in different styles - funny, realistic, cartoon, wooden, porcelain, stone.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

the flight to Korea was long but filled with excitement and anticipation. as soon as you landed, the vibrant energy of Seoul enveloped you. the city was a bustling mix of modern skyscrapers and ancient temples, and the aroma of street food wafted through the air.

Chris had already mapped out all the best places to eat, starting with a famous street food market. you spent hours wandering through the stalls, sampling everything from spicy tteokbokki to sweet hotteok. Chris's eyes lit up with every new dish, and you couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm.

after a few days of indulging in Korea's culinary delights, it was your turn to take the lead. you guided Chris through the narrow streets of Insadong, where traditional teahouses sat next to quirky boutiques and art galleries. you found a shop filled with some local clothes brands, their vibrant colors and intricate designs mesmerizing.

"Chris, look at this one," - you said, holding up a beautifully embroidered piece of clothing "isn't it stunning?" he nodded, appreciating the craftsmanship. "it's beautiful. you should try it on."

you spent the next hour trying on different items, each one more gorgeous than the last. Chris snapped pictures, his face beaming with pride as you modeled each outfit. next, you visited a quaint shop selling traditional Korean pottery. Chris found a small, intricately painted tiger that he added to his collection of animal souvenirs. "this will be a perfect addition," - he said, placing it carefully in his bag.

that evening, as the sun set over the Han River, you and Chris found a quiet spot to sit and watch the city lights come alive. he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer. "this has been perfect," - he murmured, pressing his lips to the top of your head "i love experiencing all of this with you." you leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. "i feel the same. thank you for bringing me here, Chris."

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

one afternoon, after exploring Gyeongbokgung Palace and wandering through Bukchon Hanok Village, a sudden downpour caught you both by surprise. laughing and soaked to the skin, you and Chris dashed into a nearby café, shaking off the rain as you entered. the cozy atmosphere welcomed you with the warm scent of broths and herbs. you found a small table by the window, the glass fogged from the contrast of the cool rain outside and the warmth inside. the café was quaint, with low wooden tables and cushions on the floor, traditional Korean paintings adorning the walls. Chris ordered two bowls of something traditional, hoping to warm you both up after the unexpected drenching. when the steaming soup bowls arrived, you eagerly took a sip, the rich, spicy broth spreading warmth through your chilled body.

Chris watched you with a tender smile, his heart swelling with love and admiration. he adored these moments with you, the way your eyes lit up when you saw something you liked, the small smile that tugged at your lips as you savored new experiences. you were his anchor, his joy, and seeing you happy made him feel complete.

as you continued to enjoy the soup, Chris froze for a moment, mesmerized by the beauty that surrounded him. your hair was slightly damp, your clothes clinging to your body, but your cheeks were flushed from the heat of the soup. your eyes were closed as you savored the wonderful spicy taste and the long-awaited warmth in your throat. Chris hung there for a while, admiring you, the spoon still halfway to his mouth and his mouth slightly open.

"you're so beautiful," - he whispered, almost to himself. you opened your eyes, meeting his gaze and smiling softly. "what?" - you asked, a hint of amusement in your voice. "nothing," - he replied, shaking his head with a chuckle. "i just love you so much" you chuckle, looking away from the bowl, and gazing at him through your eyelashes. "i love you too, Chris. this trip is amazing. thank you for bringing me here." he mischievously grinned at you, his eyes shining with mix of pride for himself, what a good boyfriend he is and genuine joy of sharing memories together.

as you finished your meal and the rain continued to pour outside, the warmth of the café and the love between you made everything else fade away. you were content, happy, and deeply in love, ready to face any adventure as long as you were together.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

[visit-new-york]

100 Most Fascinating Facts About the Empire State Building

The Empire State Building, located in the heart of Manhattan, New York City, is an iconic skyscraper and one of the most famous landmarks in the world.

Construction of the Empire State Building began on March 17, 1930, and was completed in just 410 days, opening its doors to the public on May 1, 1931.

Standing at a staggering height of 1,454 feet (443.2 meters), including its antenna, the Empire State Building was the tallest building in the world when it was completed. It held this title for nearly 40 years until the completion of the World Trade Center's North Tower in 1970.

The Empire State Building has 102 floors, with 86 of them being used for office space, and it houses numerous businesses and organizations.

The building was designed by architect William F. Lamb, who worked for the architectural firm Shreve, Lamb & Harmon Associates. The design was inspired by the Art Deco style, which was prevalent in the 1930s.

It cost approximately $40 million to build the Empire State Building, which would be equivalent to over $700 million in today's money when adjusted for inflation.

The building's construction was completed during the Great Depression, and it was often referred to as the "Empty State Building" during its early years due to the difficulty of finding tenants for the office spaces.

To finance the construction, the Empire State Building was funded by a group of wealthy investors, including John J. Raskob, a financier and businessman.

The building's exterior is clad in Indiana limestone and granite, giving it a distinctive and elegant appearance.

The Empire State Building's famous Art Deco spire was originally intended to serve as a mooring mast for dirigibles, but the idea was quickly abandoned due to safety concerns and strong winds at such heights.

The building's construction progressed at a remarkable rate of four and a half stories per week, an unprecedented speed for that time.

During the construction, five workers tragically lost their lives, and they are honored with a memorial plaque inside the building.

The Empire State Building has a total of 73 elevators, including service elevators, and it takes just 45 seconds to reach the 86th-floor observatory from the ground floor.

The building's 86th-floor observatory offers breathtaking panoramic views of New York City and has been visited by millions of tourists from around the world.

Notable visitors to the Empire State Building include several world leaders, celebrities, and even fictional characters like King Kong in the classic 1933 film.

The Empire State Building was the location of several daredevil stunts and record-breaking feats, including the famous race to the top between a man and an elevator.

The building's official lighting system can be programmed to display various colors and patterns during different events and celebrations, making it a striking presence in the New York City skyline.

Every year, on Independence Day, the Empire State Building participates in the Macy's Fourth of July Fireworks display, illuminating the night sky with a colorful show.

In 1964, the Empire State Building was designated as a National Historic Landmark, recognizing its cultural and historical significance.

The building's observatories are open to the public year-round, and they are especially popular during the annual Empire State Building Run-Up event, where participants race up the stairs to the 86th floor.

The iconic scene from the movie "Sleepless in Seattle," where Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan meet on the observation deck, has become a quintessential romantic movie moment.

The Empire State Building has been featured in numerous movies, TV shows, and music videos, cementing its status as a symbol of New York City and an emblem of urban life.

On a clear day, visitors to the observatory can see up to five states: New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Connecticut, and Massachusetts.

The building has experienced several incidents of lightning strikes, but its construction materials safely disperse the electrical charge, keeping it relatively safe during storms.

The Empire State Building's Art Deco lobby is adorned with beautiful murals and decorative elements, transporting visitors back to the glamour of the 1930s.

A famous photograph called "Lunch Atop a Skyscraper" was taken during the construction of the building, showing construction workers casually sitting on a steel beam high above the city.

The Empire State Building has appeared in various video games, becoming a recognizable virtual landmark in games set in New York City.

The building's famous spire has undergone several alterations and changes over the years, including the addition of a television broadcasting antenna.

An observation deck is located on the 102nd floor, offering an even higher vantage point for those willing to climb a few more flights of stairs.

During the annual Empire State Building Run-Up, the fastest recorded time for ascending to the 86th floor is just under 10 minutes.

The building's exterior lights are often coordinated to support important causes, such as lighting up in specific colors to raise awareness for charitable events and holidays.

The Empire State Building's lobby houses a scale model of the building, offering visitors a close-up look at its architectural features and design.

The Empire State Building's design and construction techniques were considered innovative for their time, and many of its principles have influenced the development of future skyscrapers.

The building's façade features intricate stone carvings, depicting various animals and mythological creatures, adding a touch of artistry to its exterior.

The Empire State Building was the first building to have more than 100 floors, making it a true marvel of engineering and architectural achievement.

The building's steel frame weighs around 57,000 tons, and the total weight of the building, including its contents, is estimated to be over 365,000 tons.

In 1945, a B-25 bomber crashed into the Empire State Building's 79th floor in dense fog, resulting in 14 fatalities and significant damage to the building.

The Empire State Building's architecture has served as inspiration for various skyscrapers and buildings around the world.

The building's height, including its antenna, is precisely 1,454 feet and 8 9/16 inches (443.2 meters), making it an engineering marvel to achieve such precision during the 1930s.

The Empire State Building has been featured in numerous songs, poems, and works of literature, cementing its status as a symbol of ambition, progress, and the American Dream.

The building's main lobby features a stunning ceiling mural titled "American Progress" by artist Roy Sparkia, depicting the rise of New York City.

A bronze plaque on the ground floor commemorates the visit of President Franklin D. Roosevelt, who turned on the building's lights with a push of a button on May 1, 1931.

The Empire State Building was the location of a unique event in 1951 when Kathryn Johnston became the first woman to be married on the building's observatory.

In 1980, the exterior of the Empire State Building was designated as a city landmark, ensuring its preservation for future generations.

The Empire State Building's prominence as a symbol of American industrial prowess and architectural excellence was further solidified by its inclusion in the Great Seal of New York City.

The building has been featured on several postage stamps issued by the United States Postal Service, further showcasing its iconic status.

The Empire State Building played a significant role in numerous movie plots, and its imposing presence has served as a backdrop for memorable cinematic moments.

The building's immense height allows it to be visible from various points across New York City, making it a guiding landmark for many residents and tourists.

The Empire State Building was depicted in the 1983 video game "King Kong," where players climbed the building to rescue the titular character.

The building's observation decks have hosted numerous special events, including weddings, proposals, and even a high-wire walk by daredevil Philippe Petit in 1974.

The Empire State Building is an energy-efficient building, and it has earned a Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design (LEED) Gold certification for its sustainability practices.

The annual Empire State Building Run-Up attracts participants from around the world, with many athletes and fitness enthusiasts challenging themselves to conquer the stairs.

The building's 86th-floor outdoor observatory has been featured in movies like "An Affair to Remember" and "Sleepless in Seattle" as a place where couples can share special moments and breathtaking views.

The building's observation decks have been the setting for several world records, including the highest concert and the highest-flying paper airplane launch.

On a windy day, the Empire State Building sways gently, and the topmost floors can sway up to several feet due to its flexibility and structural design.

The Empire State Building has appeared in numerous comic books and graphic novels, often serving as a backdrop for superhero battles and epic showdowns.

The building's observatories are equipped with high-powered binoculars to allow visitors to get a closer look at various landmarks and attractions across the city.

The Empire State Building has been featured in various virtual reality experiences, allowing people from around the world to explore its heights without leaving their homes.

The Empire State Building's façade lighting is often used to commemorate special occasions, such as holidays, national events, and philanthropic initiatives.

During the Christmas season, the Empire State Building is illuminated with festive colors, and a large Christmas tree is displayed in the lobby.

The building's observatories are open until midnight, offering visitors a chance to experience the stunning nighttime views of the city that never sleeps.

The Empire State Building's central location in Midtown Manhattan makes it a convenient starting point for tourists exploring the city's many attractions.

The Empire State Building has been featured in video games like "Grand Theft Auto IV" and "Crysis 2," allowing gamers to interact with a virtual representation of the iconic structure.

On a clear night, the Empire State Building's lights can be seen from miles away, creating a mesmerizing sight in the New York City skyline.

The building's annual lighting of the tower in blue on April 15th marks the start of Autism Awareness Month, showing its support for autism-related initiatives.

The Empire State Building has been depicted in countless postcards, souvenirs, and artworks, becoming an emblem of New York City's skyline.

The building's iconic mast and tower were originally intended to serve as docking points for airships, but advancements in aviation technology rendered this idea impractical.

In 1947, a United States Army Air Force B-25 Mitchell bomber successfully made a round-trip flight between New York City and Bermuda, proving the feasibility of commercial transatlantic flights.

The Empire State Building was featured in the climactic battle scene of the 2012 film "The Avengers," where the superheroes fought off an alien invasion from the top of the building.

The Empire State Building has appeared in numerous disaster movies, where it is often destroyed or damaged by earthquakes, tidal waves, and alien invasions.

The building's observatories offer a clear view of the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, Central Park, and other iconic New York City landmarks.

The Empire State Building's interior spaces have been used as sets for various film and TV productions, including commercials, documentaries, and music videos.

On special occasions, the Empire State Building's lights synchronize with music, creating stunning light shows visible from various vantage points around the city.

The building has served as a popular backdrop for fashion shoots, with models posing on its observation decks or in front of its grand entrance.

The Empire State Building was the tallest building in the world when it was featured in the classic 1933 film "King Kong," where the giant ape climbed to the top.

The building's annual Empire State Building Run-Up attracts participants from various backgrounds, including professional athletes, firefighters, and fitness enthusiasts.

The Empire State Building has been a popular destination for marriage proposals, with its breathtaking views providing a romantic setting for couples in love.

The building's observation decks have hosted a variety of events, including live music performances, book signings, and art exhibitions.

The Empire State Building's design incorporates setbacks, creating a distinctive and recognizable silhouette on the Manhattan skyline.

The Empire State Building has been featured in numerous post-apocalyptic movies, symbolizing the endurance of human architecture in the face of catastrophe.

The building's height makes it an ideal location for various telecommunication antennas, broadcasting radio, television, and mobile signals to the city.

The Empire State Building is lit up in blue and white in honor of the annual International Day of Peace on September 21st, promoting global harmony.

The building's interior lobby and halls have appeared in several period dramas and historical movies, evoking the elegance of the Art Deco era.

In 1994, a Norwegian base jumper successfully parachuted from the top of the building, landing safely on the streets of Manhattan.

The Empire State Building has served as a focal point in various New Year's Eve celebrations, with its lighting being an integral part of the festivities.

The Empire State Building has been used in art installations and performance pieces, exploring themes of urbanization, identity, and human experience.

The building's observation decks have been visited by numerous celebrities and dignitaries, from movie stars to political leaders from around the world.

The Empire State Building's Art Deco style has inspired interior designs, fashion trends, and architectural elements in buildings worldwide.

The Empire State Building has been depicted in animated movies and TV shows, capturing the imaginations of younger generations.

The building's grand entrance features exquisite decorative bronze doors, with intricate reliefs and ornamental details.

The Empire State Building has been featured in numerous books and documentaries that explore its history, engineering, and cultural significance.

The building has been the subject of various art projects, including paintings, sculptures, and installations, showcasing its allure as an artistic muse.

The Empire State Building has served as a symbol of resilience, representing New York City's ability to recover and rebuild after the tragic events of September 11, 2001.

The building's observatories have been visited by prominent figures in history, including Queen Elizabeth II, Princess Diana, and the astronaut Neil Armstrong.

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The Empire State Building was featured in the 2005 film "King Kong," where the giant ape climbed to the top once again in a modern retelling of the classic story.

The building's exterior and observatories have been a popular filming location for various TV shows, commercials, and music videos.

The Empire State Building has been featured in the backdrop of countless wedding photographs, becoming an iconic symbol of love and commitment.

As one of the most recognizable buildings in the world, the Empire State Building continues to be a symbol of human achievement, architectural excellence, and the spirit of New York City. Its enduring appeal and timeless beauty ensure its place in history for generations to come.

[astral-realities]

Hello again! New questions bc im really curious! How much do you all identify with your puppets and their appearances? Are they more of a tool for you or are they significant for your sense of self? I've noticed that your appearances somewhat reflect your personalities, was this a design choice made by your architects or have you been adjusting looks along the way by yourselves? (I know Habitually Stargazing did a little, the dress looks really pretty on you btw!) Im particularily fascinated by the antennas! Im guessing you don't use them much having a hard-wire connection to the rest of your superstructures, right? (perhaps they would be more practical when communicating with visitors in your chambers? I don't know..) Im seeing a sort of analogy between animal motifs in ancient art and masks and those retro-looking antenna resembling those used with older technology, though I might be wrong.. I'd be thrilled to know whether these hold any cultural / traditional signifincance among machines alike!

Also I'd love to know more about your serial numbers! What do they mean, and do you more identify with them or with your names?

Finally, Flowers - a creature for you

It's an umbrella slug, hiding under it's umbrella!

Hope you all have a wonderfull day, looking forward to hear from you!

SDA: Oh! While the exact details might vary from case to case, I would say that it's a bit of both - the puppet is a tool tied to an iterator's sense of self.

SDA: The puppet is only a small part of yourself, but it represents you as a whole. You .. used it to communicate with your citizens, you use it to communicate with your peers. Others start to see *you* in this form. The more you use it, the more you begin to identify with it. With time, its image truly becomes yours.

SDA: From our creators' perspective, it might have been a matter of needing an interface to interact with us. It seemed to be more natural to speak with something that you can actually look in the face.

SDA: Another important fact is that the puppet is by far the most expressive part of our bodies. Our biological elements can be somewhat controlled by our programming, but it cannot fully override them - there will always be a living, sentient being deep below.

SDA: One that has its own emotions, preferences, opinions; one that wants to express itself. The puppet serves as an outlet for that. It can gesticulate, it allows you to convey how you feel in a way that's understandable to most.

TFB: It would've probably been easier for them if we couldn't think for ourselves. Just tell us what to do and we do it until the end of time, no questions asked.

TFB: Instead, they chose to fully depend on something with an *attitude*! Some really tried their best to keep good relations with their iterator, afraid of putting it in a bad mood...

SDA: Yes, I suppose...

SDA: Some of us might pay greater attention to the puppet's appearance, adjusting it to our own tastes, mostly with clothes and accessories. Fashion was important in our creators' culture, so it wasn't out of the ordinary for an iterator to request a new robe or a necklace. Some took matters into their own hands.

SDA: ... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ramble on like this.

BROS: Don't you dare, it's always nice hearing you so passionate about something~

BROS: About the antennae - you're right, they're not as powerful as the equipment in the rest of the structure! They're decent for close-range stuff, and they're what you'd resort to in case of an emergency.

BROS: Like, somehow losing access to the rest of your body. The puppet can't do much on its own, but thanks to these, it would be able to communicate with anything near it.

BROS: Aaand they were mostly another way for the architect to visualize whatever concept they had for a puppet.

HS: I'm almost offended by the "retro" remark. As far as I'm concerned, these are state-of-the-art.

BROS: Sure, sure~

BROS: Finally, as for the model numbers. They represent the architect's name, the cycle when the project was officially completed, and the name of the project at that time, like this:

BROS: Nobody really identifies with this, it's mostly used in paperwork - maybe some database stuff. Even if two iterators were given the same name, it's extremely unlikely they also had the same creator *and* creation date, so it allows for telling us apart that way.

HS: The name that appears in your model number isn't truly binding either. Such as...

TFB: Come on now, don't put them on the spot like that.

SDA: ...

SDA: It's fine...

SDA: Originally, I was called "Visions of Serenity", you'll see me in databases as GTIAOT672005VOS.

SDA: I was renamed shortly after, due to some... rather unfortunate coincidence.

SDA: It really doesn't matter now.

---

TFB: Also, thank you so much!! I don't get to see many marine species around these parts, this is lovely!

HS: (...and thank you...)

[jesncin]

Hi there!! I was wondering if you could talk a little bit about what the process of being published was like for Lunar Boy? Were there any struggles you faced trying to get it seen? Any tips for others trying to get their work published? Thank you in advance and I love your work! :)

Hullo there! Sure! Unfortunately things have changed a lot since I pitched years ago so I don't know how replicable my publishing journey is nowadays. But I'm willing to share!

So! I always knew I wanted to write for kids, but in art school we were trained to be cape comic artists. Back then (if you can believe it), making middle grade comics was considered something that would sink your career. At that point in history, American comics was trying so hard to prove "we're not for kids!" that they left a chasm in the market for children's comics. Then Raina Telgemeier's bestselling books proved there was a hungry readership of kids and suddenly the trad pub industry is excitedly picking up middle grade graphic novel pitches (ironically, including cape comics).

I was studying my Masters in the US as this was all happening, and decided to use my time in the program to generate as many middle grade pitches as possible! The first one I made was Lunar Boy, but the story was so well received that it ended up being the one we pushed forward as a pitch and develop the most across classes. On Twitter there was this event: #DVPit, which is a pitching event for marginalized authors looking to seek editor interest on their pitches but also! To get agented. In its heyday (before Melon Husk ruined everything. This event is no longer on twidder sadly. Many pitching events have ceased to happen or are on hiatus from how unusable that platform is now) it was a fantastic event. I got agented on my 2nd try of the event, and it got the industry an early look at Lunar Boy and made them excited to see it out on submission.

My agent, Britt Siess, was extremely helpful with giving us feedback on how to refine our pitch. Not only did she give us story feedback, but I was surprised also by her comics feedback- that was more nuanced than I expected (little did I know that she's a huge comics nerd). She had connections to all the editors I was interested in pitching Lunar Boy to, and we were out on submissions right as we graduated with our Masters degree (during the start of the pandemic lmao).

I already had early editor interest in Lunar Boy which I think helped a lot with getting it picked up. I've been told that it helps to meet editors in person and get chummy with them before pitching to heighten your chances, but that wasn't really the case for me. I've never met my editor (Carolina Ortiz, I love her she's amazing) in person, but she did actually reach out to me long before we went out to pitch- on a Simu Liu tweet trend of all things lmao.

(I didn't end up looking like evil boy band members in pastel clothes in the final book, I went for cultural clothes instead which I think is the more bespoke choice haha) Carolina reached out to me from this tweet and we actually talked back and forth about Lunar Boy, refining the pitch. I felt like she understood the story despite asking for big changes. I don't think she'd do something like this anymore, but I really appreciated it at the time (I wasn't even agented yet). All the editors I met in person for events like Editor's Day at school liked my art (and would even hire me for colorist work and the like) but they weren't interested in Lunar Boy. This was reflected when we finally went on submissions too.

We got a lot of rejections, vague language like "we don't know how to edit this" or "we already have a book like this" (??? press X to doubt). Compounded with all my interactions with editors in person, I felt like I was "marketable" as an artist but not as a storyteller because our stories were so unapologetically QPOC- with culturally specific queer identities to an already underrepresented identity. The editors that were interested in Lunar Boy had personal connection to the story (they were either also from blended families or QPOC themselves). But hey, you only need one yes to get a book deal. We ended up with Carolina as our editor and she's been our rock and champion for this book since the beginning. We were out of submissions in just a week (which is really fast in the industry).

My big tip for getting into the trad pub graphic novel industry is to study the market. A lot of people mistaken publishing as a vessel or platform for their untold story, when really it's a business we compromise with. Pay attention to trends, book deals, shifts in the industry, read your peers' books, everything. Research is key with getting your foot in. Lunar Boy may look like an out-there book, but at its heart it's a story about culture shock, trying to fit in, along with family and friendship problems. In trad pub especially, locking in to sellable tropes and trends is key. Find clever ways to innovate and work within those limitations at the same time. Be open to feedback and changes. I know so many people are held back from getting book deals because they're too attached to their story. It helps not to be phased by rejection and or take things personally. I've been very desensitized to talking about books like a business, since that's what it took for someone like me to make it out there.

I hope that was helpful!