#Einstein@home

[darth-azrael]

https://inleo.io/threads/view/darth-azrael/re-leothreads-bnoyfrv?referral=darth-azrael

[jcmarchi]

Hunt for Extreme Stars from the Sofa - Technology Org

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/hunt-for-extreme-stars-from-the-sofa-technology-org/

Hunt for Extreme Stars from the Sofa - Technology Org

With Einstein@Home and Zooniverse, citizens can analyze stars and identify previously unknown pulsars from home.

When large radio telescopes look for the regular blinking of neutron stars, which rotate very quickly around their own axis like cosmic lighthouses, these telescopes initially collect large amounts of data that need to be sifted through.

The signals from such pulsars, which would help us to understand fundamental physics better, are all too well hidden in the data and analysing them is very computationally intensive. Citizens can now help to search for such hidden signals even better from home.

Cosmic lighthouse: A radio pulsar is a compact neutron star that accelerates charged particles to relativistic speeds in its powerful magnetic field. Radio waves (green) are emitted in a cone shape above the magnetic poles. The rotation swivels the radio light cones across the line of sight of the radio telescope, causing the pulsar to light up periodically in the data. Image credit: NASA/Fermi/Cruz de Wilde

Distributed computing augmented by distributed thinking

Since its launch in 2005, the Einstein@Home project has been searching for and finding new neutron stars and compact remnants of exploded massive stars by incorporating the judgement of volunteers and their home computing capacities. The Max Planck Institute for Gravitational Physics (Albert Einstein Institute) in Hanover and the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee are running the project. 

“Getting volunteers more directly involved in Einstein@Home and having them view and actively classify pulsar candidates has been our plan for a long time. It’s great to see this become a reality with this new Zooniverse project,” says Bruce Allen, director of Einstein@Home and director at the Max Planck Institute for Gravitational Physics (Albert Einstein Institute, AEI) in Hannover, Germany.

Einstein@Home pools the otherwise unused computing power on the PCs of more than 15,000 volunteers, making it one of the largest projects of its kind in the world. Since 2009, Einstein@Home has analysed data from the Arecibo radio telescope and found 31 new radio pulsars, a special type of neutron star.

The Pulsar Seekers Zooniverse project analyzes data of stars from the Arecibo radio telescope, shown here in aerial picture before its 2020 collapse. Image credit: NAIC – Arecibo Observatory

Einstein@Home is now working together with Zooniverse. On this successful web portal for citizen science, volunteers can classify graphical representations of the Einstein@Home results in order to discover further pulsars in the Arecibo data.

Neutron stars are compact remnants of supernova explosions and consist of extremely dense matter. They are about 25 kilometers across and weigh more than our Sun. Because of their strong magnetic fields and fast rotation, they emit beams of radio waves like a cosmic lighthouse.

When these beams point toward Earth during the neutron star’s rotation, it becomes visible as a radio pulsar. Pulsars are excellent astrophysical tools that enable research in several areas of astronomy, such as testing Einstein’s theory of general relativity, understanding the behavior of extremely dense matter, studying the thin gas between stars and our Galaxy’s magnetic field, and for searching low-frequency gravitational waves.

To date, Einstein@Home has discovered 31 radio pulsars in data from the Arecibo telescope, 24 radio pulsars in data from Parkes Observatory in Australia, and 39 gamma-ray emitting pulsars in data from NASA’s Fermi Gamma-ray Space Observatory. The project’s long-term goal is the detection of continuous gravitational waves from neutron stars that have yet to be observed.

Pulsar stars: Hunting for treasures in Arecibo’s legacy

To search for new radio pulsars, telescopes like the iconic Arecibo radio telescope, which sadly collapsed in December 2020, observe hundreds of thousands of points in the sky, each for a few minutes. Each of these observations must then be checked for the regular pulsations expected from radio pulsars. Searches for pulsars alone in space can be done in a short time on a small number of computers. 

The search for pulsars in close orbits is much more computationally intensive, but worthwhile. If researchers could measure two neutron stars orbiting each other with orbital periods of just a few minutes, they would be able to subject the general theory of relativity to the most accurate tests yet.

Thanks to the Einstein@Home volunteers and the computing power they donate to the project, such searches become feasible. When the volunteers’ computers are finished analyzing an Arecibo observation, the end result of their combined efforts is a long list of nearly 400,000 candidates, or possible pulsar signals, each characterized by a handful of numbers. Typically, no more than one true pulsar is expected in an observation.

Separating the wheat from the chaff

“Einstein@Home has analyzed more than 150,000 observations made by the Arecibo radio telescope,” says Alexandra Botnariuc from the Max Planck Institute for Gravitational Physics.

“This gives us the gigantic number of 60 billion pulsar candidates! This is far too many to look at each one individually, and most of them aren’t real astrophysical signals anyway”.

She developed and implemented an algorithm to reduce this number by detecting similar candidate stars that are likely caused by the same astrophysical signal, and by identifying the most pulsar-like among them.

For each pulsar candidate, Zooniverse volunteers will look at a set of four plots like the one shown here. A short tutorial will teach them how to distinguish a pulsar (as in this example) from terrestrial disturbances or random noise. Image credit: Project “Pulsar Seekers”

To get the ball rolling, the research team prepared diagnostic plots for the 50,000 most promising Einstein@Home pulsar candidates and set up a new Zooniverse project called “Pulsar Seekers”.

“The number of candidates is so large that it is impractical for one person to do the job. This makes the collective human effort of Zooniverse participants invaluable in identifying true pulsar candidates,” says Rahul Sengar, a postdoctoral researcher at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee who is leading the Pulsar Seekers project.

“We can’t wait to see what Zooniverse citizen scientists discover in our data!”

Citizen scientists will receive a short and simple tutorial on Zooniverse to teach them how to tell real pulsars from noise.

“If all goes well, and several thousand Zooniverse volunteers participate in ‘Pulsar Seekers’, they will be able to sort through our first 50,000 pulsar candidates, separate the wheat from the chaff, and maybe find some exciting new pulsars, in just a few days,” says Colin Clark from the Max Planck Institute for Gravitational Physics. 

Source: MPG

You can offer your link to a page which is relevant to the topic of this post.

[unscharf-an-den-raendern]

Demnächst (leider nicht) im Kino

[ilredeiladri]

They'll always find their way back home ❤️

[patchesproblem]

Posted all this on Twitter already but y'all are being forced to see it too. Anyways, I've been self-shipping with Einsla for the past year and I actually have the courage to talk about it now so y'all will be hearing about it now unfortunately.

Anyways take these doodles I've done.

January 27th 2024

Last month

Today.

Feel free to ask questions (please ask questions I need an excuse to talk about them.)

[dothillvalley]

oh boy

anything from a cat from a story book to ALBERT EINSTEIN!! What a spread

[catnamedoggy]

The result from the color wheel challenge!

List of characters in color order:

Red: Dennis The Menace & Whammy (Press Your Luck)

Orange: The Lorax & Garfield

Yellow: Yellow Guy (DHMIS), Pac-Man & Homer Simpsons

Green: Howdy Pillar (Welcome Home), Yoshi & Baldi (BBIEAL)

Cyan/Light Blue: Barnaby B. Beagle (Welcome Home), Fred Jones (Scooby-Doo) & Blue (Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends)

Blue: Wally Darling (Welcome Home), Sonic, Oggy (Oggy and the Cockroaches) & Goober (Redeye's Short Comic)

Purple: Daphne Blake (Scooby-Doo), June (Little Einsteins) & William Afton (FNaF)

And last but not least...

Pink: Kirby, Mandy (The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy) & Fall Guys

[dimonds456]

Every day, I wish and hope that I'll wake up and be in the 1920's. Not because everything was better back then, but just because things were more alive back then. Or at least, it feels that way.

You look at some dance routines today, and there is most definitely talent on display, sure, but then you go and watch someone like Gene Kelly or especially The Nicolas Brothers dance and you're left sitting there like, "...what happened? Why don't we do this anymore?"

Music performances too. There are truly some talented people doing amazing stuff today, but it just doesn't feel as vibrant and alive as watching a big jazz band improv with each other in front of a crowd.

Singers weren't trying to sell, they were just, well, singing. There was more flexibility in vocal performance from what I can tell, and honestly this one warrants its own post.

Tap dance is considered stupid largely by non-dancers, when it's actually REALLY HARD and fully of such joy and whimsy. You're a musical instrument and dancing at the same time! What's not to love? Not to mention, the physical toll that takes on a person. Insane.

The only dance I was taught as a kid was the slow dance. If I wanted to learn anything else, my parents said no, unless it was ballet, but I was never interested in that personally. Now, I look back on things like the Charleston or the Lindy Hop and I just wanna learn how to move like that; to let go and be in the moment. I don't know how, and none of the adults in my life can tell me, either.

The movies back then were so creative and grand, considering the budget and scale they were allowed to work with. Stuff like Robin Hood or Metropolis are absolutely jaw-dropping, and yes, we could make that today, but it'd be with CGI or super realism, when a huge part of the charm came from the use of miniatures and spot-on performances and choreography.

Listen. We still have all of these today. Even tap dancing is still around, even if it's largely (wrongfully) considered silly by many. But it just doesn't feel the same. I'm not sure how to put it into words. The 1920's was where our modern times were really born, I think, with inventions like the camera, the radio, animation, jazz, ect all coming together in this decade to launch new art forms, entertainment, and way of life. They weren't called "The Roaring 20s" for nothing.

I wanna live in that so bad.

[dipperscavern]

https://www.tumblr.com/dipperscavern/756955823832432640/librarian-anon-is-unfortunately-the-ponderer

i need to share that einstein anon, infested anon, stepdad anon, and edna mode anon are all one person 🧘‍♀️

OH MY GODDD 😭😭 this is why people let their anons name themselves LOL

sometimes i can’t believe i didn’t recognize when it’s one person. like i should’ve connected to you telepathically and known…. what kind of mother am i?? but seriously it’s so funny omg, instead of heir for a day y’all are anons for a day 😭

[darth-azrael]

How I got my PowerPC Macs Crunching Tasks in BOINC Again

[latrodectal]

you know i’m in deep when i make a playlist.

[walking-circles]

god the eeg made my hair look so awful im losing it

[david-watts]

I was looking through crime scene photos (morbid curiosity took the better of me) and ngl I'm kind of desensitized on the autopsy photos and the ones of the space where the crime took place (mostly thanks to movies and an accident I had when I was a kid)

And it's wierd bc someone's life literally ended there and suffered unimaginable pain and yet it doesn't seem real, it seems like a movie set

I mean I definitely knew I had to stop after looking at the black dahlia photos but still I shouldn't have gotten that far in the first place

Idk it might be the way I was raised culturally but I still feel like something is terribly wrong with me for wanting to know what those things look like

I'm drunk and my stomach feels a little bit off after the last couple pictures and idk I just felt like sharing the realization I had

Maybe the media was right when talking about how much violence we are exposed to

personally? I don't think there's anything wrong with deliberately seeking out gory things like that, so long as the family has given permission for the images to be shared as there is something disrespectful in not asking them before sharing something incredibly tragic. morbid curiosity is human nature, and there really isn't anything wrong with anyone wanting to know those things. it's when people continue to try and seek them out against the family's wishes and push into harassment territory that it becomes a problem, but that goes for anything that gets media attention. that and the pervasive victim complex associated is the issue with popularised true crime, not that it shows grisly things. saying you can't look at a crime scene photo just because it's a dead person, or considered 'gruesome', doesn't really help anyone.

humans are exposed to violence every single day. car crashes, assaults of any sort, accidents, and violent death, these are things that happen to someone at least once a day. if we pretend these things don't happen, it becomes even more hurtful when it does! and on one hand we need to be exposed to things so we're aware of the possibilities. but on the other, the media does give us twenty-four hours of blood and guts a day, every day, because doom and gloom gets people's attention. it makes everyone feel paranoid about what could happen because the news cycle feeds them, in the words of christine chubbuck; 'immediate and complete reports of local blood and guts news', you're not exactly gonna be thinking everything's fine and dandy and nobody's out to getcha. especially in the case of those types of true crime fans.

so basically, you're not a bad person for being morbidly curious, and so long as you're able to expose yourself within your limits and without developing paranoia then there really isn't anything that wrong about it

[lotusdesignbyz]

Albert Einstein Surreal Art Digital Download Poster

[ilikeevilblondes]

Wide Open

18+ MDNI!

Summary: After a long day of work, Joel expects nothing more from the evening than getting some shut-eye. Fate has other plans, however, because the daughter of the family next door forgot to close her blinds again and is putting on quite the show.

TL;DR: Joel gets off watching you get off.

W.C: ~2.8k

Warnings: pervyneighbour!joel x reader, he's a tiny bit of a creep, accidental voyeurism (kind of…), mutual masturbation, dildo usage, lowkey a tiny breeding kink, implied age gap as per ushe (late-40s, early-20s), (no outbreak!)

Note: this is your daily reminder to close your blinds, y'all. unless joel miller is your neighbour. then maybe don't, and fuck with him.

Part One | Part Two

Joel always said he’d retire ‘soon’. 

Though as the years flew by, ‘soon’ remained ambiguously distant.

Presently, he had just come home from an unnecessarily hard day at work where some Einstein had misread the blueprint and cut every single piece of lumber half an inch too short. 

Joel was pushing fifty now. If asked toward his earlier adulthood, he’d have claimed that fifty-years-old balanced right on the precipice of retirement. And by sixty, he’d be golfing daily, attempting to read something other than the backs of DVDs, and not worrying about stupid shit like redoing an entire section of framing because of Romero’s shitty-fucking-eyesight.

“Fuckin’ Romero,” Joel mumbled to himself as he locked the door behind him and tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter.

With heavy footsteps, he ambled toward the fridge, praying he had the foresight the night before to leave a can or two of Modelo for his future self.

The unwelcoming sterile glare of the fridge light greeted him as he yanked open the door. Worse, it greeted him with its contents, or lack thereof.

No Modelo. 

Not even a lone, pitiful can of Keystone Light that Joel may have bought in desperation as a crappy substitute for literally any other beer.

Making a mental note to pick up a six-pack sometime tomorrow and, further down the line to maybe cut down on the beer, Joel trudged up the stairs to his bedroom.

His bedframe whined with a metallic creak as he sat on the edge, rubbing his hands down his face and feeling the scrape of his overgrown stubble on his worn palms.

Joel was more than ready to call it a night, he thought, as he leaned over to draw the curtains.

But he froze upon seeing you.

The two-story craftsman next door, formerly a ‘fixer-upper’, had been home to you and your parents ever since you moved in from the city a year ago. Your parents were mild-mannered neighbours who sent the street Christmas cards and kept the porch light on and took part in the neighbourhood watch patrol.

And you? You never made your bed, always had a book in your hands before sleeping, and more importantly, had a very noticeable habit of neglecting to close the blinds of your bedroom window.

Joel knew this, of course, because the bedroom of the two-story craftsman facing his house just so happened to belong to you.

“Shit,” Joel heaved a heavy sigh, still clutching the drawstring with notable tenseness.

Your cream-coloured blinds were slanted completely horizontally, allowing a direct view into your bedroom. And Joel found himself helplessly entranced, watching the back of your silhouette pull your shirt over your head and fling it across the room.

Fuck, you were very possibly wearing his favourite bra. The lacey ones that pushed your tits up real nice–

No. No, Joel, didn’t have a favourite bra of yours. What kind of neighbour would keep track of the family next door’s daughter’s bras? 

You turned around and, to his delight, confirmed that you were wearing the exact pair.

Him, evidently.

Joel squeezed his eyes shut and leaned back, running a hand through his greying hair and letting out a deep exhale.

You continued undressing, seemingly oblivious to the state of your blinds and the lack of privacy that state entailed. And further, oblivious of the old man next door watching intently as you unzipped your jeans and stepped out of them.

A thong. You had chosen to wear a thong that day. Because, of course, you had.

Bright red and stringy and covering virtually nothing, which left no part of your lower half to the imagination and Joel was able to see most of your perfect fucking pussy from the house over—

“The fuck am I doing?” Joel mumbled to himself and decidedly tore himself away from his window.

What was he doing? 

It wasn’t like you were strangers. He knew you. He came over to barbecues hosted in your back garden, fixed the leak in your kitchen sink when your dad had called, and watched the Superbowl in your living room that one year.

And, as much as he may have indulged in watching you before, he had never lingered as much as just did. Usually, he’d be sated with a few seconds of your half-dressed state, and would only later conjure up that image in the shower to fuck his fist to.

The tightness in his pants seemed to disagree with that plan, and Joel was overcome with an overwhelming need to settle his problem down south immediately.

Joel turned back to his window, determined to draw the curtains shut once and for all and then quickly jerk off to the mere thought of you (not that that was a noble action in and of itself), when he, for the second time that evening, froze at the sight of you.

Your bedroom was furnished in a way that had your bed facing your window. So, your wonderfully respectful neighbour could easily have direct views of you lying on your bed chatting on your phone, or reading, or spread out and running your fingers through your slick folds.

If Joel thought he was hard before, he was definitely, painfully, rock-hard now.

As careless as you may have been in the past, you have never forgotten to close your blinds to this degree before.

And, owing to that logic, you would never slip up like this again.

So, one would be incredibly stupid to not take advantage of this rare opportunity.

“Fuck it,” Joel inhaled sharply.

He scrambled to undo his belt and unzip his jeans and pull them down just enough to tug his raging erection out of his briefs, all while desperately keeping his gaze set on you.

Bracing one hand against the wall, he let the other wrap around his cock, fisting it leisurely as he watched you take open-mouthed breaths while your fingers traced up your seam to rub at your clit, your thong haphazardly pushed to the side.

You looked so pretty like that; lying on your bed and touching yourself as if you had pent-up emotions of need you desperately ached to satisfy.

You went slowly, dragging your fingers down along your wet cunt and against your throbbing clit, likely savouring the intensity.

Joel matched your pace, his fist sliding in a lazy tempo around his aching member.

Fuck, he’d do anything to grind his cock against your pussy; feel it shiver and clench around nothing and coat his length with your seeping slick. He’d bet all his money he could make you come without even putting it inside, too. Needy fucking slut.

And then you dipped a finger inside. 

Then another. 

God, with the way you seemed to be shaking around two of your own slender fingers, Joel was sure you’d be a mess riding his. 

Fuck, he’d even give you a third just to see you lose your fucking mind.

Maybe you’d beg him to stop, crying prettily and gasping in pitchy breaths that you just couldn’t take any more. But Joel believed you could, and he’d tell you so as he slipped his index finger to join the other two, feeling you clench around them—

Joel’s dick twitched in his hand and it was all he could do not to come early and let the show go to waste. Instead, he adopted a faster tempo, trying his damnedest to follow yours, however erratic it was.

Your mouth opened in a silent moan and you tossed your head back against your pillows as your fingers sped up in their ministrations.

Shit, you probably sounded real fuckin’ sweet, all overwhelmed with pleasure.

Again, your mouth parted, letting out a syllable of something Joel couldn’t hear, your tongue flicking out momentarily as you sounded it out.

Maybe it was Joel’s twisted imagination, but he was somewhat sure you had just moaned his name.

You probably didn’t, but it was a nice fucking dream, anyway.

He’d do just about anything to hear his name on your lips, whispered like a prayer or screamed like a plea as he relentlessly pounded into your tight fucking pussy. And, if given the opportunity, he’d fuck you so hard, a slurred babble of name would be the only thing you could say.

A familiar warmth began to pool at the pit of his stomach and his cock tensed even more.

Fuck, he was close.

And, he assumed you were, too, owing to the sheen of sweat on your body glistening under your lamp and the giant breaths you were heaving in.

“C’mon, babygirl.” He encouraged aloud despite being a good distance out of earshot, his voice coming out raspy and low. “Come for me,”

He watched you carefully, waiting for the moment your eyes fluttered shut and your hand stilled so he could close his eyes and imagine fucking his load into your spent cunt.

But no such series of events occurred.

Unexpectedly, however, you pulled your fingers out and flopped over on your stomach to reach for the bottom drawer of your bedside table.

What… the fuck?

Did you come already? Without Joel noticing? Shit, he definitely was too cocky in his familiarity with the female body if he didn’t clock your orgasm.

“Goddamnit.” Joel sighed, his hand coming to a complete stop.

Maybe it was better this way. 

Maybe Joel could still salvage what little morality he retained and beg for forgiveness from the higher powers above—

And no, actually, he couldn’t because, being the dirty fucking whore you were, you pulled out what he recognised to be a dildo from your nightstand.

You stopped fingering yourself to get a dildo from your nightstand.

“Filthy girl,” Joel tutted through a depraved smile, watching with hazy, lust-flooded eyes as you sat back down, spat directly on the tip of the sex toy, and positioned it in front of your weeping pussy.

Who knew that the sweet girl next door, the one who always offered to help carry groceries or to water his plants while he was away, kept a thick fucking dildo near her bed.

Not just any dildo, either, Joel realised.

It must have been his lucky fucking day, because, upon squinting at the unholy sight, Joel discerned that the shade of which the toy was painted almost exactly matched the rich tan of his skin tone.

In other words, it was now going to be much easier to imagine himself fucking you when a close replica of his cock was pistoning in and out of your pretty cunt.

“You gonna put it in, sweetheart?” Joel sighed, his grip tightening around his length as he watched your dawdling.

Fuck, he was going to get humanity’s worst case of blue balls if you stretched this out any longer.

“C’mon, baby. Jus’ put it in. ‘S not that hard,” He all but whined.

He, a man pushing fifty, basically whined. Good lord, what kind of fucking temptress were you?

Thankfully, it seemed as though you heard his words, because right after, you had slid the first few inches inside your walls, gasping at its girth.

“Yeah, there you go.” Joel sucked in a sharp inhale as he thrust up into his fist. “That all? Oh, babygirl, you can give yourself more.”

As if reading his mind, you slowly began feeding yourself the rest of the tanned dildo, throwing your head backwards and chanting that syllable that was so dangerously close to Joel’s name.

For the purpose of that night, Joel took the liberty of imagining it was, in fact, his own name as he fucked up fully into his fist.

When you finally took the toy to the hilt, its fake carved balls pressing against your ass, you started moving it in and out of your drenched seam at a steady pace.

Joel let out a string of incoherent curses under his breath, which quickly turned into strained groans as he mirrored your rhythm, practically feeling the way your pretty pussy clenched around that fake dick.

Your chest was expanding and contracting frantically now and you were no doubt releasing breathy moans from the sensation of fucking yourself with those eight generous inches.

Joel wished he was in that room with you to give you the same and then some. 

He’d kiss his way down to your tits and take a nipple into his mouth, tasting the sweetness of your skin as he bent you in half and made you see stars.

He wouldn’t even have cared too much if you passed out, as long as, when you woke up, he was still driving into you and kissing your cervix with each thrust, sending you barrelling into orgasm after unbound orgasm.

He’d hold out as long as it took to get you completely sated, and even a little more after. Maybe he’d even pop a certain little blue pill just to watch himself fuck his come deep inside you again and again after rounds of laborious exertion.

Joel’s dick twitched again at the mere thought.

And again, upon seeing the sight of you pulling the soaking dildo out of your tight hole and manoeuvering yourself to hover above the thing like you were about to sit on it.

Christ alive. You were going to ride your dildo.

“Shit,” Joel breathed, his eyes widening slightly. God, this would be a treat to watch.

Worrying your teeth on your lower lip, you began to slowly sink down on the toy, a silent scream leaving your parted lips as you steadily took it all the way to the fucking hilt.

Joel, he imagined you to have mewled. Joel, you’re so fucking big.

“‘S okay, sweetie, you’re doin’ real well.” Joel sighed, watching you adjust to the size. “Brave girl, doin’ so good. Now, go on and ride that cock. C’mon, baby.”

And so you did.

Bouncing up and down on the toy, your mouth opening in a steady stream of what seemed to be expletives, and your tits springing from your efforts.  

Fuck, in his forty-something years of life, Joel had never seen such a pretty sight.

And, there you were, repeating that mystery syllable like your life depended on it.

Joel, Joel, Joel, he envisioned you whimpering.

You were close again. He was sure of it. If it wasn’t already painstakingly obvious from the way you were eagerly swiping at your swollen clit.

And so, he finally gave in and began fucking up into his fist—his hips intensely chasing his hand—at the ferocity at which he dreamed to ram inside you, dragging against your velvety walls and feeling as you shivered uncontrollably around him.

He was close, too. Very fucking close.

“Come for me, sweet thing. C’mon. Be a good … fuck, be a good slut for me and come around that cock.” Joel breathed, eyes glued to the display of you feverishly riding the toy.

Then, suddenly, your mouth opened in a long scream as you nearly went cross-eyed.

Shortly after, your face scrunched up in pleasure and your body fell still on the dildo, the only movements being small rolls of your hips against the rubber length as your breathing began to even.

You came.

Fucking finally. 

Joel shut his eyes and pictured driving into your throbbing, dripping cunt, hearing your pitchy whines as he shushed you with little follow-through.

Gonna come inside, he’d tell you in between heavy, strained breaths. To which, you’d frantically alert him of the fact that you weren’t on the pill and the two of you had chosen to forgo the assistance of a condom.

But Joel’d come inside you anyway. Mark up his pretty girl with pearly ropes of his come. And he’d keep you filled up as long as he fucking could.

Before he knew it, Joel was coming hard and fast into his fist, wildly jerking in and out of his grip as he rode out his high.

It took a few more moments for him to slow down, and a good number more for him to stop fully.

“Fucking hell,” Joel sighed as he took a seat on the edge of his bed, reaching over to a nearby table and plucking a few pieces of tissue out of its box to clean himself up with.

Satisfied, he crumpled up the tissues, tossed them into a nearby trashcan and gently tucked himself back in.

His head hung low as he caught his breath and tried not to linger on the dubious ethics of what had just transpired.

While that had possibly been the best jerk in his life, it was undoubtedly very non-consensual. At least, on your side.

After all, you hadn’t explicitly given him permission to fuck his fist to the sight of you doing… whatever fucking marathon that was.

At least, he didn’t think you did.

Until, bing!

Joel angled his head to catch sight of his phone lighting up with a recent notification.

Unsure of who could be texting him at that hour, Joel took it in his hands and unlocked it with a quick swipe of his passcode.

It was a message from you.

You: you gonna keep jerking off across the street or are you gonna come over?

Joel’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. 

So, you had seen him. Possibly even orchestrated the whole ordeal; neglecting to close your blinds on purpose, wearing that bra, and, well, fucking yourself right by your window.

Shit. Well, he couldn’t just come over and fuck you silly … could he?

Then, another text came.

You: home alone.

Joel never put on his shoes faster.

[stale-compost]

Einstein was a prominent supporter of both Labor Zionism and efforts to encourage Jewish–Arab cooperation. In 1938 Einstein explained "In this hour one thing, above all, must be emphasized: Judaism owes a great debt of gratitude to Zionism. The Zionist movement has revived among Jews the sense of community. It has performed productive work surpassing all the expectations any one could entertain. This productive work in Palestine, to which self-sacrificing Jews throughout the world have contributed has saved a large number of our brethren from direst need". Einstein supported the creation of a Jewish national homeland in the British mandate of Palestine but was opposed to the idea of a Jewish state "with borders, an army, and a measure of temporal power."