#Medulla oblongata

[thatsbelievable]

[noosphe-re]

Medulla oblongata

[ilikevintagebooks]

Medulla Oblongata

-The Pocket Anatomist 1888

[vykko]

Fun info about parts of the brain bc it’s a special interest of mine

✨⭐️Medulla oblongata⭐️✨

it is apart of the hind brain

it’s responsible for automatic things such as

Breathing

Blood flow and pressure

Sleep

swallowing

saliva production

relaying somatic sensory information from the organs

digestion

arousal

Bits in movements and balance

It’s such an important thing that if it is broken eg snapped, it’s fatal

I don’t care if you guys like this I’m making more later

[nerdwelt]

Wie Sie atmen, beeinflusst tatsächlich, wie Sie sich Dinge merken, so eine neue Studie

Neue Forschungsergebnisse zeigen, dass unsere Atemmuster und ihre Auswirkungen auf das Gehirn unsere Gedächtnisbildungsfähigkeit beeinflussen können. Dies könnte möglicherweise bei der Behandlung von Hirnstörungen und psychischen Gesundheitsproblemen helfen. Die Atemkontrolle des Körpers erfolgt durch die Medulla oblongata, das Atemkontrollzentrum des Gehirns. Besonders wichtig sind dabei die…

[estefanyailen]

[ericveec]

[redswaberkez]

russian winter khanty wife bimbo core

[inchidentally]

based off me repeatedly tagging that Carlos broke Lando's hindbrain from Too Good Dick

au prompt where robot L4N.0 ("Lando" since the last part is dot oh) was made by Zak/McLaren's group of experimental engineers to be the perfect teammate for Carlos Sainz Jr. not every driver or team gets to have a custom robot. maybe it's tied into money and privilege etc (explaining Max V's existence). it's great because Lando cannot get hurt and they can just bring him back to the garage and fix him up alongside the car. thing is that due to regulations roboLando has to spend all night alone in the garage on race weekends since no one is allowed to work on him during certain hours. enter Carlos having already fallen in love with Lando the first time they met and he can't bear to see Lando all powered down and lifeless in his race suit curled up on a tyre pallet next to the car. thanks to some collusion/blackmail with the mechanics Carlos starts sneaking into the garage at night using a separate battery to wake Lando up. they do what every man and beautiful robot inevitably get up to.

blah blah blah Carlos' powerful Spanish loads turn Lando into a real boy (I'm not a fic writer) angst when Lando yelps the first time a mechanic handles him roughly and everyone freezes like wtf he isn't supposed to feel that. Carlos going ai ai ai dios mio mis cojones etc.

pls tag me if anyone does this

[cambriancutie]

guys do you think im skrunkly? im babygirl? im scrimblo?

[tastefullyoffensive]

Riki that medulla oblongata. @gadzucks

[evilscientist3]

A lot of people don't realise this, but I'm actually a small malevolent beetle that crawled into the ear of a random 4 year old in 2006 to consume and replace their medulla oblongata. I've been piloting them around with electrochemical impulses ever since. Yeah, just like ratatouille basically, and it's fucking awesome. I've been making this dickweed microwave babies and shit when nobody's looking to see how long I can make it without getting caught. Eventually when I get bored I'm gonna crawl out again, and use the confusion and concern associated with the spectacle of the spasming cadaver crumpling to the ground in public and violently expelling all its bodily fluids at speed to crawl into some other toddler's ear and repeat it all. Hope I get a rich one next time so I can buy cars to crash into stray dogs.

[celaenaeiln]

Am I interested in Dick Grayson's innovativeness and how that makes him a terrifying opponent?

Nah, not really, no, it's no- EXCEPT THAT I AM!

I love your analysis and honestly, I always surf through the dick Grayson tag once a day to see if u have posted. Pls drop the innovatiness wala analysis. I would absolutely eat it up

ADSAJHFGAJLHADJLHA YOU CAN'T SEDUCE ME LIKE THAT-MY HEART CAN'T TAKE IT!

But I am here to deliver *bows*

Let's start this off with a bang

Dick is completely naked except for a towel and with one (well defined) leg he hooks the handle of the beer bucket and sends it smashing into Midnighter to stop him from using the knife on another person.

Pure. Fucking. Platinum.

That move was so delicious, there's an ease-fluidity-grace-to that split second movement. Also notice how accurate his aim is despite swinging it with the arc of his toes. The bucket slammed right into the medulla oblongata, or more specifically the pyramidal tracts which are crucial for controlling voluntary muscular movements. Nerves from the brain cross over at that area as they go down and then synapse onto other nerves that are responsible for controlling muscles when they leave the spinal cord. The precision at which he aimed the bucket is glorious. And with what? His feet.

The only reason Midnighter wasn't injured is because he is a meta which is the point. Otherwise Dick wouldn't have aimed there unless he was fighting an enemy.

Oh that brings me to my next point.

Dick has extraordinary control of his actions

He's so right though. Nightwing doesn't need to kill because fighting is too easy for him. I swear he has some kind of messed up idea (aside from his need to be absolutely good) that killing someone with a gun would take the joy out of fighting. He loves to live life on the hardest mode only.

The rapid fire throw of the gun, calculating the distance, time, velocity of return, and angle? I mean I studied physics and calculating even half of that on paper is a headache. The fact that he did it in one second? It's extraordinary. Things that are pure, dumb luck to literally everyone else is carefully calculated at a speed faster than light, making it look like luck. Damn.

Yeah.

Forget Slade. Midnighter is my new favorite nemesister.

DO YOU SEE WHAT HE FOUGHT WITH?! WHILE DEATHSTROKE AND BLACK ADAM WERE FIGHTING WITH META POWERS AND A CURSED SWORD, HE FUCKING WRAPPED CHAINS AROUND HIMSELF LIKE A BOSS AND WHIPPED THE SHIT OUT OF THAT MAN.

Please take a moment of silence to relish in this sight.

Dick's innovativeness is a formidable skill when fighting allies.

Dick and Ras are evenly matched in sword fighting.

Wait, wait. I don't need any doubts about Dick's strength in sword fighting so I'm going to include a couple panels here:

Dick fights Azrael to a standstill which is absolutely incredible because Azrael solos. He's gone through many upgrades and skills and is one of the best fighters ever. He's even defeated Bruce.

He also defeated Jason and Tim together in Batman and Robin Eternal.

This is just another point towards the fact that Dick actually won in his fight against Bruce before going into Spyral. They weren't holding back.

Oh yeah. Ra's vs Dick panel, Dick and Ra's aren't going anywhere because Dick is a swordsman equivalent to one of the best in the world. So how do you win a draw? By one upping the opponent. He swings his foot up in midair and completely defeats him. "But that isn't a defeat...Ra's just stopped fighting!" It was complete defeat because Ra's is intelligent and knows when he can't win. Also they have been fighting for a while until they reached the breaking point in the battle. This move is a show of how Dick has that just one inch more that will lead him to be a victor.

Ra's honors Dick so much he tried to give the sword he used to fight with Batman because he thinks Dick is worthy of it. Can anyone receive a higher honor than this from that man?

He'll also use the broken glass of a car window to take down his opponent. If that's not innovation, then what is?

But one last thing since a car door cannot be considered innovative these days.

sticks. He literally took two twigs off the ground to use as weapons against his highly skilled, one of the best assassins, great-grandfather who is fighting with daggers in his hands and all over his body.

But you know the best part?

He draws his opponent to a tie. A tie? Not a win? No it was win after, considering he used his relative's falling body as a launching pad in the middle of the air when they were falling off the bridge to grab onto the bridge with the help of his friend. So it was his win but it's insane how incredible Dick's skills are.

It's really innovative because who thinks of using twigs and winning? Let me also clarify another point. Dick could've used the knives he'd gotten from his talon suit and thoroughly won because when he was brain washed he almost killed Red Condor from how skilled he was but he conscientiously chose to use twigs. In a sword fight. This man.

His improvisation is an asset that many have come to know him for and classify him as dangerous because he can fight with anything, anywhere, and win.

Something I want to end with. Dick only fights people who are stronger than him. I know he's fought mob characters and stuff but his enemies? They are all metas, assassins, skilled fighters, Russian Black Ops, and more. Essentially, people who are the top of the class in their categories and him defeating them equally and fairly is the reason why he has the respect of his enemies. He's just that good.

[bangs-coffee-fandoms-unite]

Incorrect Canon Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Quotes

Casey: [looking anxiously at the crates, where a distinct snapping noise was heard] Did you just... kill him?

Leonardo: Of course not! That would be inhumane. [He stands proudly, gesturing to the unconscious goon behind the crates.] l popped his medulla oblongata, paralyzing him for life. He can still breathe and feel Purple Dragon sadness.

Casey: [scratches his head, looking confused] ...I don't see how that's any better.

Context: During season four of the 2003 iteration of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Leonardo drags a Purple Dragon goon behind some crates, where a distinct snapping noise is heard. This made a lot of fans theorize he actually snapped his neck, killing him. Video below:

[debbiewebbie27]

Just gonna start a list of all the references/puns in Mentopolis because my brain takes 25 minutes to recognize each one:

Mentopolis: mental+metropolis

PCs:

Detective Hunch Curio: curiosity

Imelda Pulse: impulse

The Fix: hyperfixation

Anastasia Tension: A. Tension (attention)

Daniel Fucks: he fucks (also pleasure/sexual pleasure/urges)

Conrad Schintz: conscience

NPCs:

Victim - Norrell Ojiccle: neurological

Curio's assistant - Anna Lysis: analysis

Employees at Sugah's:

Hans Schadenfreude: schadenfreude is the pleasure by someone from another person's misfortune

Joey Sneezes: sneezing?

Libby Longshower: the feeling after a long shower? (Libido?)

Donny Urges: intrusive thought

District Attorney (DA) Mark Bition: M. Bition (ambition)

Mayor Leon Logic: logic or maybe L. Logic (illogical?)

Mr. Lance: vigilance?

The basset hound - Justin Fication: justification

Madam Loathing: loathing (self-loathing)

Orphans: forgotten/abandoned (wayward) interests (magic, reptiles, trains, lists)

Mr. Avaricci: avarice?

Locations:

Cortex City: external surface of the brain that plays an important role in consciousness

Oblongata Station: medulla oblongata - the connection between the brainstem and the spinal cord that acts as a conduit for nerve signals

Cerebell Pacific: cerebrum and/or cerebellum and also Pacific Bell telephone company

Synaptic Switchboard: synapse - the site of transmission of electrical nerve impulse

Temporal Square: temporal lobe

Hippo Campus University: hippocampus is a brain structure in the temporal lobe that has a major role in learning and memory

Occipital Park: occipital lobe is the area of the brain at the back of the head responsible for visual perception

Let me know if I missed anything or there's better references

[oldguardleatherdog]

The Night Before the Tribute In Light September 10, 2003

I.

One month ago today, this long-forgotten photo suddenly popped up in the photo app on my laptop. I took this photo with my Sanyo clamshell phone on September 10, 2003, 21 years ago tonight, from Hudson River Park in Manhattan.

Don't ask me how it survived all these years or where it's been stored all this time or how in the world it could have found its way to me from the long-dead storage servers of a long-defunct cell phone carrier. We're in the penumbra of The Anniversary, and time is out of joint.

I had been back in New York for about a month (after getting violently run out of the place I was staying by a fellow who is now one of my closest friends), homeless and living in that roach-infested HIV crack-house shelter at 96th and Broadway that I describe in "The One Decent Thing I Ever Did" (it’s archived on this blog), and you can imagine my state of head and spirit at this moment, the night before the 2nd anniversary of the terror attacks on the World Trade Center that drove me from my home in Lower Manhattan, four blocks east of the site.

I was sitting on a bench in Hudson River Park on the West Side of Manhattan, somewhere near Houston Street, maybe ten or fifteen blocks north of World Trade. I hadn't noticed these beams of light as I walked, and I think they might have just been activated while I was sitting there. As I recall, it was a full moon in Virgo, and I was positioned just right to snap this shot. I had *no* idea what this was all about, as I recall, but I thought the image was so striking and affecting that I wanted to capture it.

As it turns out, this was the tech run-through for the first September 11th installation of the “Tribute In Light”. Here’s Google’s AI summary of this remarkable memorial:

So there I was, just two years after the blast, stunned by this sudden, mysterious apparition rising from just south of what was still a giant, messy hole in the ground. I was still not fully myself at that time and would not regain my full memory or sense of who I was until the following January (therein lies a tale!), and as I recall I was just numbly stunned, not knowing what to make of it.

As I write, I’m getting the physical sense memory of that moment: the dog in me (my medulla oblongata speaking) feels his hackles rise, it’s not what I expect to see filling the hole in the sky, is it another attack? Do I bark at it, sound an alarm, run towards it, away from it, why is there light there, is this some unholy ruse, another trick being played on me from that big smoky hole where nothing but poison has spilled out for the longest time?

My phone rang. It was a fellow that I had met and hung out with in San Francisco while I was stranded there, and I was stunned to hear from him, especially at that moment. “Hi Dave… well, right now I’m on the riverfront looking at the damnedest thing… [I just wanted to make sure you were ok] hey, thanks for checking in… yeah, take care bud.” I closed the phone and started walking south along the riverfront, toward the light beams.

When I got there, I saw the massive banks of klieg lights assembled in their arrays, a strange and unfamiliar (unwelcome) echo of the shapes and the placement and the footprints of the place I loved so well.

The faces of the artists who surrounded the lights were intense, focused, sober. I still didn’t quite know what was going on, but there was profound reverence in the air, on those faces, at that place, as the beams of pure white light soared upwards, past the point of naked-eye discernment, unending, likely petering out tens of thousands of feet off that spoiled piece of ground, perhaps piercing the ionosphere, did they get clearance from the Federal Aviation Administration for this? Are pilots being disoriented by these columns at 45,000 feet? Do they touch the feet of God?

II.

And I kept walking south, my back to the light,

Down to the oldest part of the civilized island,

Past the Battery, the bronze bull, the buttonwood tree,

The Port of New York dead ahead,

The Staten Island Ferry terminal, ramshackle, ancient,

Entry restricted by terror tape and armed sentinels

No two uniforms alike, a panoply of enforcement,

Heavy weapons at the ready, so jarring in my neighborhood,

And the working dogs with the keen snouts, the trained muzzles,

Jumping up to paw at the brown bag in the soldier’s hand

Is that peanut butter? Apple? Hunk of cheese?

Let’s play! You’ve been so serious, so worried,

You smell sad and scared, are you lost? Let’s play!

Even Cerberus needs break time, belly rubs, treats!

For the first time in weeks, I smile to myself

As I round past the ferry, those strange lights at my back.

Hope I can sneak past the turnstile downstairs,

I won’t have to hike back up three hundred blocks

To that awful low place. Did you know roaches bite?

They shit on you too. Try to sleep, fully dressed,

Watch cap pulled low on my head, long sleeved shirt

Buttoned up to the collar, heavy pants tucked in boots,

Gloves on my hands, one more night without food

Half-bag of speed takes my mind off the pain

Sleep comes in fits if at all. – On the train

Dreading the stop: ninety-sixth street and Broadway.

Tomorrow, this city will jack itself off

In performative weeping and gnashing and cursing

Oh, how we loved them! I snort in derision,

You didn’t lose nothin', you pieces of shit!

Let the dead bury the dead. Beams of light

Don’t feed this refugee reeking of ashes -

What, do I smell bad? So sorry to stink up

The place where you’ve laid out the feast for your friends

Who still have their jobs, their high homes in the towers

Behind the glass doors where your larders are stocked

With the food that you bought with your government money

That flooded your midtown Manhattan apartment

With all the new clothes, electronics, the sausages

Fresh from Enrico’s, Zabar’s, D’agostino’s,

Bought with the Victim’s Fund money you stole

When you filed your claim. “OMG, it was awful!

“I couldn’t get up to the fifty-fourth floor,

“I had to find shelter on Upper Park Avenue.

“Power was out. I was homeless that night!

“So glad that my friend who was shopping in Gramercy

“Gave me the number to call for my claim

“September 11th was horrid! I told them

“I couldn’t go home for two nights! Oh, thank God

“The claim got approved with a wink and a nod

“And no one’s the wiser – I’ve never been south

“Of the Plaza Hotel! That all happened on Wall Street,

“Who goes down there? Jesus Christ, are you kidding?

“That’s four miles away! Christopher, are you coming

“Or what? Reservations at Nobu won’t wait

“For you or for me, so quit primping!”

The pain

In my stomach, relentless. My gorge won’t stop heaving.

Am I gonna make it? Damn, *ouch!* What the fuck…

The tooth that I hoped would hold out just gave way,

Fuck me. Another huge hole in my grille.

When I made six figures and lived in a high-rise,

Fuck buddies laughing on Saturday night,

Nobody told me that one hundred minutes

And two hijacked jet planes would make such a difference.

No one will laugh with me now – my best friends

Are yelling and angry, how dare I show up

Sweaty and toothless, a walking reminder

Of September tenth. No, I’m not gonna feed you.

III.

Now, twenty years later, they’ve retooled their memory:

“Animal! Damn, dog! We’ve missed you, you know,

“Wow, you’re alive! You look fabulous! Listen,

“I never gave up on you. Give a call

“When you come to the City. I want you to meet

“My beautiful husband – he remembers you too!”

IV.

Twin beams of light where the Towers were anchored,

Okay, not exactly precisely those spots,

But who’s gonna criticize? Look and recall

How majestic they were. Yeah, the new One World Trade

Is cool, I suppose – no one mentions the absence

Of Two World Trade Center. Insurance, you know.

Not enough money or civic ambition,

And Bloomberg discouraged it. Why add a target?

“Don’t you think sixty or seventy stories

“Are more than enough? Hell, let’s just get it done.

“The sooner we finish construction, the better.”

V.

*There will never be lumens of adequate volume

Sufficient to seal that hole in the sky,

But the hole in my heart I will finish, I tell you.

Walk with me as I go forward. Tomorrow

I’m back in the studio. Tonight, we can play!

You smell like apples and – damn, is that chocolate?

(our light beams shine upward forever)

"Good boy!"

Animal J. Smith San Francisco, California September 10, 2024