#Science lab tools and their functions

[superchemistryclasses]

From Beakers to Burettes: Common Chemistry Apparatus and How They're Used

Understanding chemistry goes far beyond equations and theories—it truly comes to life inside a laboratory. Whether you’re a student just stepping into a school lab or a professional chemist conducting complex research, one thing remains constant: the tools of the trade. In this article, we’ll break down the common chemistry apparatus and how they’re used to give you a clearer picture of how…

[linddzz]

I am slamming that validation button like a rodent wanting more sugar water so here's more mostly rough draft Jayvik.

A continuation of the nicknames fic. More science dorks being dorks, this time greatly featuring some seriously questionable boundaries between totally normal lab colleagues, and much more briefly featuring Viktor being so horny it makes him stupid. Also appearing is Jayce Talis, ADHD King and allusions to Viktor's past slut era. Both fics are a sort of preview chapter in the bigger thing @amahhi and I are working on!

Thank you to @avelera for planting the idea of platonically dubious scritches in my head, and for being a constant sounding board!

Rating: PG

Pair: Jayvik pre-relationship

----

It continues to be surprising, how not surprising everything is when it comes to Jayce.

A week into the partnership, and that initial bright thrill of something new has not dulled in the slightest. Nor has the perfectly ordinary, easy comfort that he feels with Jayce. The un-remarkability of this calm is what makes it remarkable. With Jayce, there is none of the discomfort of dealing with another person. None of the abrasive tension that arises when Viktor must face other people as distinct personalities which he must contend with, instead of the larger concepts of People. People as an idea have problems that he can solve, whose suffering he can reduce without any needs for interaction causing issues.

But Jayce functions outside of these issues Viktor often finds himself in. Jayce slots into a space Viktor hardly knew existed, like there had always been this jagged edge to him that, to his great surprise, was actually part of a puzzle that Jayce had the other half to.

Past experience would have him expecting that, with time, the shine would wear off. The glow would dim. He would learn all the little faults and human contradictions of Jayce and would grow to feel that jagged tension return. Spending hours upon hours each and every day for a solid week with him have revealed Jayce’s little foibles, yet not one has grown into a frustration. In actuality, Viktor has had nothing but further data points to add weight to his newly forming thoughts of destiny and its relation to himself and Jayce. For each little fault and lacking Jayce has, Viktor can help. He can, perhaps, be the puzzle piece that returns the favor to fit neatly into Jayce's life.

For example, Jayce can grow blind to his surroundings, his mind too caught in their work. Viktor had assumed that the apartment was in the state he first found it in due to an explosive force of arcane power. He still thinks that, but he has learned that this great force was not the struck gem amplifying and reflecting the kinetic force aimed at it to exponential levels, but Jayce himself. He often forgets his keys, or his mugs, or his pencils behind an ear, his goggles on his head, his tools, everything but his journal really.

It was the third time that he left his keys in the lab (on top of twice that he came in groaning that he had locked himself out of his temporary housing), that Viktor realized what the pattern was, and that he could provide a solution.

Jayce had more important things to focus his mind on, so it was both useless and counterproductive to adjust Jayce’s behavior or habits so he could track the little necessities of life. Fortunately, Viktor is well practiced on keeping track of what he needs to. It’s a skill that was refined when he first used it to avoid detection in the Academy, and then even further developed as Professor Heimerdinger’s assistant. When Jayce left his keys behind again, the answer was simple and obvious. They were already missing from Jayce’s person, so Viktor simply took them to the sort of establishment in the lanes that would never ask any questions, but would always make a perfect copy of any keys brought to them.

Jayce’s keys were neatly returned to him, and Viktor took no small delight in waiting for the next time Jayce smacked his forehead as they left for the day, realizing that he had once again locked himself out of his rooms, to reveal his backups. There was a brief moment, where Jayce stared at the keys hanging from Viktor’s finger, when he worried in a flash that this was not something a friend or colleague should do, that he had overstepped in some way. Then Jayce snorted with his grin, called Viktor brilliant if a little terrifying, but mostly brilliant, and everything was perfect.

The key was only for Jayce’s temporary rooms in the Academy housing, but Viktor could make another set once the apartment repairs were complete, even if it seems wasteful to have Jayce eventually move out of the building that Viktor lives in.

Jayce is also wonderful at taking notes for his work, but less skilled at going back to reorganize or refine those notes. His notes are exemplary, even with the little flair of him signing every single page, but it leads to problems.

These problems are their current struggle in the cramped space of their semi-lab at some odd hour of the night. Viktor stands and contemplates the board crowded with copies of Jayce’s notes, additional observations both have about that first successful arcane spell, and Viktor’s little chalked notes next to clusters of paper denoting what sections of an article each goes to. Behind him, Jayce is not exactly pacing, which would require repeating of one path, but he is in a constant state of muttering movement with occasional bursts of frustration over paperwork.

Because they can make a fully stable arcane frame that affects the gravity within the dean’s office, but that means nothing to the academy if it is not properly written and submitted for review. They are on their fourth draft of the paper, and the initial excitement over being published has dwindled with every draft that has been returned with Heimerdinger’s cheerful blue ink slashed across the pages. One of Jayce’s faults, Viktor is finding, is that he does not take such things gracefully. It takes the second set of revisions for Viktor to realize that pride is not the primary hurt that Jayce feels, but the thread of anxiety Viktor had seen woven through Jayce’s journal. The need to prove himself, and the fear of impending failure at every turn.

“How else do they want me to explain it?” Jayce groans, and Viktor does not need to turn around to know that the perfectly clean cut hair is likely sticking out in every direction.

“I was hoping the Professor would not have edited “crank it” so quickly out of the methodology.” Viktor muses. That was his greatest disappointment. “I am deeply curious on how he expects us to find half of the citations he has requested for this entirely new scientific field.”

“And when the Academy insists there aren’t more tomes on mage lore!” Jayce snarls.

“We will have to expand outside of the Academy in the future.” Viktor agrees, turning a little to once again look over the taped up pages of their latest draft and what blue marks are where. “However, I think a more concrete description of the runic array you conducted into the stabilizer may be our ticket past many of the other issues he has found.”

Instead of grumblings or more huffed complaints, a heavy weight thumps onto Viktor’s shoulder. He pauses, realizing immediately that it is Jayce’s head that has slumped against him, and Jayce’s impressive body heat against his back indicating that there is, at most, a few inches of space between them.

“I don’t know how.” Jayce groans, but it’s less petulant and quieter, almost fearful. “I don’t know how to describe what I did.”

“Hm.” Is all Viktor can say in that exact moment. He is, briefly, distracted by Jayce’s hair brushing against his jaw with the strong scent of some sort of…of fancy wood. It is not an unpleasant scent.

“Sorry.” Jayce mutters. “Sorry, I know you’re not touchy I just- gimme a second I gotta think.”

“That’s perfectly alright.” Viktor assures him. It is alright. Jayce is correct that Viktor is not nearly as tactile as Jayce is, but he is at this point well acquainted with Jayce’s propensity towards touch. His own lack of aversion or any other strong reaction to it was one of the earliest surprises in their partnership. “Take your time gathering your thoughts. This is a far less dire circumstance than that first stabilization was.”

“You told me there was no pressure then.” Jayce mumbles, already sounding a little less miserable.

“That is because I was lying.” Viktor hums, delighted at the snort he gets, and the way he can feel Jayce’s movement from the small laugh.

“Seriously V, I just remembered that night, remembered what the mage looked like and what all the magic looked like and I…did the same thing. But it wasn’t the same thing, because no one got teleported. I don’t even know if what I did was a spell.” Viktor thinks he can feel the resonance of Jayce’s voice through his core, spreading in waves from the point where Jayce’s forehead presses down at the top edge of his shoulder.

The distraction is not a true distraction however, because Viktor catches something in what Jayce is muttering. “You can remember how he moved, what the runes he summoned looked like?”

“I remember everything about that night.”

“Yes but-” There is something here. He has already seen Jayce's remarkable skill at memorizing things that Jayce deems worth memorizing. If Jayce says he can remember it, Viktor does not doubt it. “The order of them, could you remember that?”

The head on Viktor’s shoulder shifts as Jayce rolls it slightly to one side, but he doesn’t move it in the other to shake his head. It’s a contemplative movement. “Maybe…I think so. Let me...ok this is going to sound so weird but can I just uh, hang out here for a second? It helps me think.”

“By all means.” There’s something particularly marvelous about becoming a stabilizing agent for Jayce’s mind, he would be a fool not to agree to the opportunity. As Jayce calibrates himself, Viktor once again considers their paper, the problems it has given them. Jayce had moved the dial of the stabilizing framework like a conductor, with precision. Heimerdinger wants written out theories and explanations and citations, but what if they could instead find a formula. What if the precision of Jayce’s input could be broken down into components and quantified…

His free hand moves with habitual lack of awareness to where it would usually begin fiddling with his own hair, and it takes a few moments for him to notice the slight change in both texture and location of the hair he is rolling between his fingertips. Even then, he only notices because Jayce’s head becomes an even heavier weight on his shoulder.

“Ah, apologies.” He says, stopping the movement, thinking this might be a thing to feel awkward about. “Force of habit, it helps me think.”

“No, s’fine.” Jayce says, voice thicker in a way that is dangerous for Viktor’s higher thought processes. “It’s nice, actually. I don’t mind.”

After a second, Viktor continues. This time he notes the finer texture of Jayce’s hair. It’s very soft, sleek almost, with traces of the gel he uses to style it making sections of stiffness that crunch away under Viktor’s fingers.

“You smell nice.” Jayce mumbles.

A response to that requires some consideration. Viktor…considers.

There was a time, not all that long ago, where he would have leapt on someone with Jayce’s build telling him he smelled good while standing a scant inch away from Viktor. He would have assumed that the intent was for him to leap. Viktor is more discriminating than he used to be about sexual escapades, mostly because he began finding the nights spent on dalliances not worth the distractions, but even he can admit that if Jayce had put a head on his shoulder and told him he smelled good a week ago, Viktor would know exactly how to respond. It would have involved leaning back against that broad heat, turning lightly twirling fingers into a fist in Jayce’s hair, then gleefully seeing where things went from that point.

But now…

Jayce fits in like a missing puzzle piece. Whatever Jayce is, it is not one of Viktor’s brief encounters. Viktor would want to tell Jayce he didn’t need to get his apartment repaired, when Viktor lives much closer to the lab and things would be much more efficient if they lived together. Viktor can be wildly in love with this man in every definition of love that exists, but romantic or sexual entanglements (and if there is one, Viktor very much wants the other as well) often end. In Viktor’s personal experience, they ended before morning, and that was only considering the sexual entanglement. Heightened intimacy was desperately tempting, but it risked a greater end to the entire partnership. Even if nothing ever started, a proposition alone could forever poison what there already is.

Jayce is tactile in a very casual way. He flirts with everything that smiles at him for more than three seconds, and there has been nowhere near enough data for Viktor to calculate the risk of losing that side of the puzzle, or how much of a reward he would gain from taking that risk.

“Thank you.” He says eventually, slow and still considering. Then, because that feels incomplete and awkward, he adds, “I use soap.

Jayce snorts again, the head on Viktor’s shoulder shaking as Jayce’s body shakes with quiet laughter. Viktor knows he is shaking with it, because every other hitch up of Jayce’s shoulders causes a tiny sway forward, which bumps Jayce’s chest against Viktor’s back. Each of these millisecond bits of contact makes Viktor once again run through the considerations of risk versus reward in relation to getting his hands on that chest. Under the shirt. He would need both hands. There is an awful lot of chest, after all. Maybe both hands and his mouth. Definitely all three. It really is so much chest.

He takes the fantastic effort to rein his mind away from Jayce’s prodigious chest, even more effort to pull it further from contemplating the amount of shoulder matching that chest and what the rest of the torso probably looks like. There should be a response in kind to Jayce’s. A friendly compliment to return a compliment.

“Your hair is very soft.” He decides, as that seems safe as well as relevant to Jayce's compliment. Jayce’s silent laughter turns into some small hitched sounds that near a squeak, which means that Viktor’s thoughts are successfully pulled away from the sexual distractions, but only into the romantic sort.

“Thank you.” Jayce says with a dreadful mimic of Viktor’s accent, which only strengthens Viktor’s resolve to not take any uninformed risks that could lead to him losing this, “I use a leave-in conditioner.”

Viktor’s hand drops from Jayce’s hair, and he turns his head as much as he can to shoot a baffled look at the top of Jayce’s head.

“Why the fuck would you leave in a hair conditioner?” He asks, affronted. “Conditioner already feels dreadful. It’s heavy and slimy, absolutely horrendous.”

Jayce shoots up (which is a shame) so that he can lean around and give Viktor a look of equal outrage. “What does- Viktor it’s a different thing from- do you not use conditioner!?”

“Of course not. It feels terrible, I already said that.” Jayce makes a pained sound, and Viktor waves him off. “Enough of that nonsense. It is a waste of time. I have an idea.”

Jayce moves up next to him, facing Viktor with an intent eagerness. “What is it?”

“You are going to describe to me exactly what you remember. Each rune, each movement, as much as you can.” Another thought occurs to him, and Viktor snatches his cane from where it’s leaning on the board so he can turn to the inert stabilizing frame sitting on a table. “And I want you to dial in the stabilizer as you did in Heimerdinge’s lab as you do so. I will record everything. I believe there may be something we can measure, some sort of constant in the timing and the runes used, a way to-”

“We can make it an equation.” Jayce interrupts, breathless and awed, knowing what Viktor is thinking without Viktor needing to explain any of it. He so deeply wishes Heimerdinger had let them keep “crank it” in the paper. “Something concrete.”

“Precisely. The runes are instructions, a code. Perhaps the clockwise and counter-clockwise cycles of them are additional instructions. We can use your stable field as a baseline to begin working on a formula.”

“We can give them a solid theorum.” Jayce is already rushing to the stabilizing frame, even recreating the hunched over pose he had that wondrous night. “Okay, tell me when you’re ready.”

Any thoughts on conditioner or smells are gone. In the future, it will be as common as breathing for them to be drawn together when they need help thinking. Jayce’s head will always find Viktor’s shoulder, and Viktor will learn that playing with Jayce’s hair further settles his restless mind and channels his thoughts towards solutions. Whatever else there is, the most important goal to further all other goals of Viktor’s life is to keep the partnership. In the partnership there is the work, the thrill. The endless infinitesimal ways they fit together, two pieces destined to find the other. In the moment, Viktor takes up his notes and marvels again on the nature of fate, of probability, and of magic.

[phoenixblaze1412]

HIIIII! How are youu? I know you may be very busy but hear me out! I really like love your posts and wanted to know your headcannons if Dottore (possibly his other adult clones too🤭) had an s/o (reader) that was his lab assistant. Like how would their relationship function? (I’m just asking what would be different from a relationship with dottore if reader wasn’t his assistant) 👀 I’m writing this as I should be studying for a history exam tomorrow but i just need to know T^T. You normally upload a lot and I’m glad because Dottore content on Tumblr is still rare (kinda) but its fine if you don’t write for this one (I just wanted to share my thoughts) Byee!

You started as his lab assistant because you had a sharp mind, unwavering determination, and a surprising tolerance for his chaotic nature.

Dottore didn’t particularly care for personal relationships, but he respected intelligence. Over time, he grew fascinated by how quickly you adapted to his experiments and how you’d challenge him with your own insights.

The adult clones were equally intrigued by you, each trying to win your favor in their own unique ways.

Dottore is demanding, often expecting you to work tirelessly alongside him. However, he always notices your contributions and, in his own subtle way, shows his appreciation. For example, he might create a device to help you handle hazardous materials more easily or ensure you have everything you need to stay comfortable during long hours.

He’s not a fan of open affection in the lab, but when the two of you are alone, he allows small moments of tenderness, like brushing a stray hair from your face or murmuring praise for your work.

He’s highly protective of you, especially during dangerous experiments. If he feels the risk is too great, he’ll assign one of his clones to handle it instead.

The adult clones have varying degrees of admiration and jealousy toward you. They know you’re Dottore’s favorite, which makes them compete for your attention.

Some clones, like the Omega Segment, might act playfully to tease you, while others, like the more serious Iota Segment, focus on collaborating with you in the lab.

The Theta segment, in particular, enjoys teasing you, while the Zeta Segment might be more protective, seeing you as someone who balances their creator.

They often fight for your approval when presenting their own research, hoping to outshine one another.

Dottore is surprisingly possessive of you, especially when it comes to his clones. While he trusts you, he keeps a close eye on their interactions with you, ensuring none of them overstep.

In private, he’s much softer. He’s fascinated by your dedication not only to science but to him. He often pulls you into his arms after a long day, murmuring about how invaluable you are, not just as an assistant but as his partner.

He occasionally surprises you with small gifts like a beautifully crafted tool for your experiments or a rare ingredient you’ve been searching for.

You ground him in ways his clones never could. When he becomes too absorbed in his experiments, you’re the one who reminds him to eat, sleep, and take breaks.

He values your perspective precisely because it’s different. Your outside-the-box thinking occasionally sparks new ideas for his research.

His love language is acts of service: fixing things for you, crafting items to make your life easier, or ensuring your safety in subtle ways.

He’s endlessly curious about you, always asking questions to understand how your mind works. Your differences intrigue him, and he quietly admires your ability to stand your ground with him.

While he might not say “I love you” often, his actions speak louder than words. Whether it’s pulling you into his arms after a long day or ensuring you have everything you need to pursue your own passions, his affection is evident in every gesture.

Regardless of the scenario, Dottore often finds himself drawn to you during quiet moments. Whether it’s sharing a cup of tea or simply sitting in comfortable silence, he treasures these rare breaks from his chaotic life.

He enjoys debating with you, appreciating how your differing viewpoints challenge him to think in new ways.

Dottore is highly protective of you, even if he doesn’t show it openly. If anyone dares to harm you, they’ll quickly find themselves at the mercy of his wrath.

He’s not afraid to let his clones assist in protecting you, though he always makes it clear that he’s the one you rely on most.

While Dottore can be cold and calculating to others, he’s surprisingly gentle with you. His touches are soft, his words laced with uncharacteristic warmth.

The clones often tease him about how differently he acts around you, but he brushes off their comments with a smirk. Deep down, he knows they’re right but he's not going to admit that.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Case Study

Case Study - a highly detailed analysis of a particular subject, usually involving multiple sets of quantitative data observed over a period of time that allow researchers to draw conclusions in the context of the real world.

Throughout the years, the results of case study research have given us a greater and more holistic understanding in fields such as medicine, political and social sciences, and economics.

Researchers have used case studies to explore relationships between variables and a central subject, whether that subject be a human's reaction to medication, a country’s reaction to an economic crisis, or the effect of pesticides on crops over a period of time.

This methodology relies heavily on data collection and qualitative research to answer hypotheses in multiple fields.

Types of Case Studies

There are several different kinds of case studies. Here are a few:

Illustrative case study: Researchers use observations on every angle of a specific case, generally resulting in a thorough and deep data analysis.

Exploratory case study: Primarily used to identify research questions and qualitative methods to explore in subsequent studies, this type of case study is frequently in use in the field of political science.

Cumulative case study: This type relies on the analysis of qualitative data gathered over a range of timelines, which can draw new conclusions from old research methodology or studies.

Critical instance case study: Used to answer questions about the cause and effects of a particular event, critical instance case studies are helpful in cases that pose unique perspectives on otherwise established truths.

Marketing case study: This type of case study evaluates the quantifiable results of a marketing strategy, new product, or other business decision.

Examples of Case Studies

Here are a three examples of case studies in different fields:

Content marketing: In the marketing context, case studies typically explain how the business responded to the needs of a certain client, and whether or not the response was effective. Since these types of case studies are a tool to attract new customers rather than to merely share information, they should contain clear headings, attractive fonts, and infographic data that is easy to interpret.

Neuroscience: The tragic case of Phineas Gage allowed researchers to observe the changes in behavior and personality he experienced after surviving a horrific railroad accident that damaged parts of his brain. This led to a better understanding of the relationship between our frontal lobe and emotional functioning. This type of research is an example of a case study that would be impossible to ethically replicate in a laboratory, but nonetheless was a breakthrough in neuroscience and health care.

Psychoanalysis: Modern talk therapy owes much to the individual case of Anna O, otherwise known as Bertha Pappenheim. While living in Vienna in 1880, she began experiencing severe hallucinations and mood swings. Joseph Bruer, a pioneer in psychoanalysis, took Bertha under his care, and after multiple sessions where she discussed her inner emotional state and fears with Bruer, her symptoms waned. This case study is often seen as the first successful example of psychoanalysis.

Benefits of a Case Study

A case study can allow you to:

Collect wide-reaching data: Using a case study is an excellent way to gather large amounts of data on your subject, generally resulting in research that is more grounded in reality. For example, a case study approach focused on business research could have dozens of different data sources such as expense reports, profit and loss statements, and information on customer retention. This collected data provides different angles you can use to draw conclusions in a real-life context.

Conduct studies in an accessible way: You do not need to work in a lab to conduct a case study. In a number of cases, researchers use case study methodology to study things that cannot be replicated in a laboratory setting, such as observing the spending habits of a group of people over a period of months.

Reduce bias: Since case studies can capture a variety of perspectives, researchers’ own preconceptions on a subjects have less of an influence.

See connections more clearly: Through case studies, you can track paths of positive or negative development, which makes specific results repeatable, verifiable, and explainable.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[pascalmybeloved]

CHAPTER 3: FIRST, DO NO HARM

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterpost | Read on AO3

Pairing: Jackson!Joel Miller x F!Doctor OC | Enemies to Lovers

Word Count: 2.2k words

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI - Graphic medical and surgical discussion, medical non-consent, physical assault, head trauma, PTSD symptoms, mild body horror, mentions and use of firearms

Age 24 — Salt Lake City, Day of the Surgery

It was late when Marlene came to her.

Past midnight. The halls of the hospital were quiet—too quiet—buzzing with the low, fluorescent hum of half-dead lights. Blood had dried in streaks on the stairwell. The walls still smelled like gunpowder and iodine.

Ris sat curled in a plastic chair outside the makeshift lab, half-reading a medical journal with her feet tucked beneath her, pen tapping nervously against the spine.

Marlene stepped into the light like she had always belonged there.

“You’re up,” she said casually, like they weren’t both sleepless and worn down to their bones.

Ris sat up, wary. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Marlene sat across from her, arms folded over her knees.

“We found her,” she said.

Ris blinked. “Found who?”

“The girl. The immune one.” A pause. “We ran tests. It’s real.”

A beat passed. Ris’s pen stilled.

“And?” she asked.

“We think we can extract the cordyceps growth. It’s mutated—localized to the brain. If we remove it, isolate the site... we might reverse-engineer immunity.”

Ris frowned. “Where in the brain?”

“Midbrain. Possibly brain stem.”

Her stomach turned. “You’ll never get that out clean.”

“You could,” Marlene replied. “You’re a surgeon.”

Ris gave a dry laugh. “I’m a trauma surgeon. You want a miracle, not me.”

Marlene leaned in. “I’m asking you to help save the world.”

Ris looked at her—really looked.

“At what cost?”

The silence was louder than anything Marlene could have said.

Ris’s voice dropped. “You’re talking about brain stem resection. That’s… breathing. Heartbeat. Autonomic function. You cut there, you kill the patient.”

“We don’t know that for sure.”

“I do,” Ris snapped. “You’d need a neurosurgical team, an MRI suite, robotics, tools we don’t have. Hell, even if we did, it’s still an execution dressed up in a lab coat.”

Marlene’s jaw locked. “We’re out of time. This is our shot.”

“Does the patient know what you’re planning?”

A pause.

“She’s under sedation. For safety.”

Ris stared at her. “She didn’t consent.”

Marlene’s eyes hardened. “You don’t need her name, Ris. You need her immunity.”

And that—that’s what cracked something.

—

Ris didn’t sleep. Didn’t eat. She locked herself in the storage wing with her notebook and a flickering lantern, her fingers ink-stained and frantic.

Page after page: Cross-sections of the brain.

Medulla → controls respiration.

Pons → relays signals to the cerebellum.

Hippocampus → memory storage.

Brain stem = DEATH if disrupted.

No anesthesia. No consent. No viable survival.

"Hippocampal resection = memory loss."

She circled the same word again and again until the page bled ink:

“THIS ISN’T MEDICINE.”

And then she heard it. Voices. From the OR staging wing. Familiar ones.

—

The hallway to the OR was too bright. Too still. Every step Ris took echoed like a warning. She pushed through the double doors into the prep corridor, notebook still clenched in her hand.

Marlene was there. So was Dr. Anderson. And a few others—faces Ris didn’t care to remember.

“You can’t do this,” Ris said, voice sharp.

They turned.

“You know this will kill her,” she went on. “You don’t even have sterile fields. You’re using a busted trauma suite with cracked scalpels and rusted equipment. This isn’t science. It’s slaughter.”

Dr. Anderson stepped forward, calm. “It’s our only option.”

“She’s a child,” Ris snapped. “Does she even know?”

Marlene’s voice came flat. “She’s unconscious.”

“You sedated her without consent.”

Anderson’s mouth tightened. “She’s the only viable source of immunity we’ve ever seen. We’re making the call.”

Ris felt her pulse spike. “You’re killing her.”

Marlene didn’t blink. “We’re saving everyone else.”

Ris turned to Anderson—her mentor, the man who taught her battlefield triage at sixteen. Who called her “magic hands.” Who told her she was meant for more.

“You have a daughter,” she said, voice cracking. “Abby. She’s barely older than this girl. If it were her on that table… would you do it?”

The question hung in the air like a noose.

And he didn’t answer.

Not with words.

Just looked away.

“LOOK AT ME! Would you do it?!” Ris shouted through a constricted throat, fist slamming against the surgical tray. Tears pricking behind her eyes.

Marlene’s nod was small. Almost imperceptible.

But the guards stepped forward anyway.

“Get her out,” someone said.

Ris turned to run.

She didn’t make it two steps before the butt of a rifle caught her skull.

The last thing she saw was the edge of her notebook hitting the tile. Pages fluttering like wings. Like something desperate trying to fly.

Age 25 — Jackson, WY, Winter — One Month in Jackson

Ris woke with her jaw clenched and her fists tangled in the hem of her shirt.

The sheets were damp. Her skin too—sweat cooling across her collarbone like meltwater after a storm. She sat up slowly, heart still sprinting, as if she’d run for miles inside her head.

The room was quiet, but not still. The radiator hissed unevenly. Her medical journal lay open on the dresser where she’d left it—pages fanned like a mouth mid-scream. The old pine floor creaked beneath her heels when she stood.

She crossed to the sink, bare feet numb against the boards. Turned the faucet. Cold, slow water dripped into her cupped palms, and she splashed it over her face.

Her reflection in the cracked mirror looked pale. Hollow. A ghost pretending to be alive.

She traced the edge of her temple. No bruise anymore. Just the memory of impact.

You did everything you could.

But it hadn’t been enough.

She toweled off, threw on a sweater, and braided her hair quickly, fingers catching on a snarl she didn’t bother to fix. The sky outside the window was overcast, the kind of dull that promised more snow but never delivered. She grabbed her coat, tucked her scalpel into the inside pocket, and stepped out into the street before she could talk herself out of it.

—

The clinic was half-empty, the kind of lull that always felt more dangerous than busy. Ris moved through the back storage shelves with a quiet rhythm—checking expiration dates, repackaging gauze, organizing iodine in straight rows like it mattered.

She’d always liked doing things with her hands. Hands were honest. They didn’t hesitate the way voices did.

Outside the thin partition curtain, footsteps paused.

Then voices.

Two of them. Men. Not whispering—but not quite loud either. That middle volume people used when they wanted to be overheard but needed deniability.

“…just saying, you let one in, others follow.”

A shuffle of boots. The sound of a flask opening.

“She’s been quiet, but quiet ain’t innocent. Firefly’s a Firefly.”

Ris froze, hand resting on a bottle of antiseptic. Her heart didn’t race. It just… slowed. Like it was listening too.

“You think Joel knows?”

A short laugh. “Joel always knows.”

Another beat.

“I heard she was one of the medics from Salt Lake. The ones who—”

“Hey,” the second man cut in, quick. “That’s not confirmed.”

“Still. You’d think Tommy would’ve run background.”

“Think Tommy wants to believe people can change.”

A snort.

Ris didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe until their voices drifted down the hall and out the front door with the bell chime.

Then—slowly—she stepped out from behind the curtain.

The light in the clinic had turned cold. Gray.

She looked down at her hands. Still steady.

But her stomach felt like it was sitting in a puddle of battery acid.

You’re not one of them.

You’re not one of us either.

She turned off the overhead light, grabbed her satchel, and left through the back entrance.

—

Ris learned quickly that the community hall always smelled like old wood, canned food, and too many people pretending to get along. She stood near the supply ledger table, arms folded, coat still damp with the melt of the morning frost.

Maria was pacing behind the desk, a clipboard in one hand, the other pinching the bridge of her nose like a headache had set up permanent residence there.

“Clinic’s low on antibiotics. Supplies are locked up in a storage shed off Route 14, past the water tower.”

Ris waited.

Maria didn’t look up right away.

Then she said it. Flat. Tired.

“You’ll be going with Joel.”

Ris blinked once. “I’m sorry?”

Maria finally met her eyes. “He knows the roads. The shed’s old Firefly territory—we don’t send people out there solo. You know what we need, what it looks like. And no one else is available.”

“You’re sending me with the man who threatened to kill me in the library?”

Maria’s jaw twitched. “He didn’t threaten you.”

“He took his gun off safety.”

“He does that for everyone,” Maria said.

Ris raised an eyebrow. “Reassuring.”

Maria exhaled through her nose. “I don’t like it either. But this isn’t about feelings. It’s medicine. It’s logistics. And unless you want a kid to lose a limb over an infected scrape—”

“I’ll go,” Ris said.

Maria blinked. “That easy?”

“No,” Ris muttered. “Not easy. Just necessary.”

She grabbed the supply list off the table and turned for the door. Maria’s voice caught her just before she left.

“You two don’t have to talk.”

Ris gave her a dry smile over her shoulder. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m counting on it.”

—

They didn’t speak when they met at the gate.

Joel stood already saddled, one hand on the reins of a thick-coated bay mare, the other in his jacket pocket. He didn’t look at Ris when she approached. Didn’t offer a greeting. Just handed her the list Maria had already given her.

“I already have it,” she said, tucking it into her coat.

He said nothing.

The ride started in silence. The wind whistled between snow-heavy pines, branches bowed like they were holding their breath. Ris’s mare kicked up a small spray of powder with each step, and the leather of her saddle creaked under her thighs.

For the first mile, there was only the sound of hooves and breathing.

Then Joel said, flat and low, “You really think anyone cares if you’re good at medicine?”

Ris didn’t look at him. She didn’t even blink.

“No,” she said. “But they’ll care if you bleed out one day and I’m the only one left.”

The corner of Joel’s jaw twitched. Not a smirk. Not a smile. Just an acknowledgment.

They kept riding.

Eventually, the woods grew denser. Less traveled. The sun fell behind a bank of thick gray cloud and the light turned sickly, shadowed. A rusted-out truck lay half-swallowed in the snow beside a frozen ditch, its hood peeled back like a torn ribcage.

They crossed the river at a shallow bend, hooves sloshing through half-frozen water. Joel didn’t offer to help her dismount. Not that Ris would’ve taken it.

He stayed a pace ahead. Not quite leading—just always in front. Like he didn’t trust her behind him.

After another quarter-mile, Ris cleared her throat. “You always this chatty on runs, or am I just lucky?”

Joel didn’t glance back. “Don’t talk when there’s nothin’ worth sayin’.”

“Huh,” Ris said. “Then I guess you’ve had a really quiet life.”

He didn’t rise to it. Of course he didn’t.

They rode on, branches cracking overhead. Ris could feel his silence like a second rider beside her—watchful, rigid, like a guard dog someone forgot to muzzle.

Eventually, he muttered, “You always gotta run your mouth, firefly?”

He meant for the name to hurt. Ris knew that. So she didn’t let it.

“Only when I’m around people who think grunting counts as conversation.”

That earned her a look. Brief. Like a flick of a match.

She met it. Didn’t blink.

Joel turned back toward the path, and for a moment—just a moment—his grip on the reins tightened like he’d wanted to say something else but didn’t trust himself to do it.

They hit a narrow bend where the snow climbed higher on either side. Joel’s horse stumbled a little on the incline, and Ris instinctively leaned forward to assess his footing.

Joel caught her watching.

She looked away first.

But not fast enough.

“You got somethin’ to say?” he asked.

Ris forced a breath through her nose. “No. Just wondering how someone so emotionally constipated manages to function in a leadership role.”

Joel let that hang there.

Then: “Fine by me if we ride the rest of the way in silence.”

“Finally,” Ris snapped. “Something we agree on.”

But the silence that followed wasn’t peaceful. It was coiled. Hot beneath the frost.

Every few minutes, one of them would steal a glance at the other—just long enough to register the set of a jaw, the flex of a gloved hand, the weight of breath hanging in cold air. And every time, they’d look away too quickly.

Like being caught staring would be some kind of surrender.

They didn’t speak again until the sound hit them—low and sick and not human.

Joel held up a fist. Ris’s horse stopped with barely a command.

A moan. Wet. Wrong.

Joel drew his rifle with practiced ease, scanning the treeline. Ris leaned forward in her saddle, heart thumping in her throat.

“What is it?” she whispered.

Joel’s jaw worked. “Clicker,” he muttered.

Another sound joined the first. Closer.

“Make that two.”

A third shuffle. Barely a silhouette in the snow.

“Three,” Ris said, breath shallow.

Joel didn’t answer.

He just stepped down from his horse, slow and quiet.

The rifle came up. Safety clicked off.

And just like that, the disdain between them was replaced by something colder.

[urialnathanonwright]

Trump’s War on Science: A Betrayal of Public Health and Common Sense

You ever hear a bad idea so blindingly stupid you have to stop and wonder if it was cooked up by someone actively rooting for humanity’s downfall? Well, Donald Trump has managed to pull a double-header in that department. First, his administration is plotting to halt federal funding for gain-of-function research—critical work that helps us understand and combat the next global pandemic. Second, Trump’s team wants to muzzle the CDC, NIH, and other federal health agencies, halting their ability to communicate with the public and fund life-saving research. Folks, this is not just incompetence; it’s a slow-motion catastrophe.

Let’s start with gain-of-function research. Now, I get it—making viruses more dangerous in a lab sounds like the start of a bad sci-fi movie. But the reality is this: it’s one of the best tools we have to predict and prevent pandemics. It’s like doing a fire drill—you simulate the worst-case scenario so you’re ready when the real thing happens. But Trump and his enablers, in their infinite ignorance, want to shut it all down. Why? Because a bunch of conspiracy-loving Republicans blame it for Covid-19, even though there’s zero evidence to support that claim. None. Nada. Zilch.

Let me be clear: killing this research won’t make us safer—it’ll leave us defenseless. You think other countries will stop doing this work? Of course not. China, Russia, and others will keep pushing the envelope, while we sit here twiddling our thumbs, pretending ignorance is a shield against viruses. Spoiler alert: it’s not. Pandemics don’t care about your politics. They don’t care if you think science is scary or inconvenient. They just spread—and if we’re not ready, people die. It’s that simple.

Now, let’s move on to the second act of this disaster: silencing our top health agencies. Trump’s HHS has decided that all scientific communications must be vetted by political appointees before being released. Translation: they’re putting public health in the hands of spin doctors. This isn’t just unethical; it’s dangerous. During a bird flu outbreak, they’re delaying critical reports. Scientists can’t publish data, can’t approve grants, and can’t even speak publicly without some bureaucrat rubber-stamping it first. And all this during a time when trust in public health institutions is already hanging by a thread.

Let me spell this out: these actions are not about protecting people. They’re about control. Trump and his cronies are weaponizing ignorance, suppressing inconvenient truths, and sabotaging the very systems designed to keep us safe—all for political gain. This isn’t just bad policy; it’s an abdication of responsibility, a betrayal of trust, and a clear and present danger to every single one of us.

So, what do we do? We fight back. We demand accountability. We refuse to let science be politicized by a man whose grasp of facts is as flimsy as his hairline. This isn’t about left or right—it’s about survival. If we let this slide, if we let Trump’s war on science go unchecked, we won’t just be risking the next pandemic—we’ll be inviting it. And when it comes, the blame will lie squarely at the feet of those who chose politics over progress and willful ignorance over wisdom. Let’s make sure history remembers their names—and ours, as the ones who stood up and said, "Enough."

[rallentando1011]

hi! Saw the inbox was open, and wondering if I could slide in with a rise donnie boy x readerone-shot..

So essentially- donnie is STEM smart right? What if- what if reader was the opposite, like lit/history smart? Like, reads a lot, and almost never puts there book down, even when people talk to them (puts it down for donnie and gives him their full attention tho-) knows a lot about almost any point in history and adores archeology. (The only thing they understand when donnie goes science mode is biology.)

And so what if- what if reader, who's oblivious to almost everything and is a huge hopeless romantic bc of ✨️books✨️, decides to try and come up with ideas to ask donnie out in a more STEM way? But like, before they can donnie sees the list and is just like "smh ur math is atrocious/aff" and then fluffy stuff yaknow??

Lol sorry, went on a tangent. Anywhizzle, love ur writing! Don't forget to take a break, stretch and get some food and water if you need to!Have a good morning/evening/night!!! :))

U + Me = Date?

(this took a minute, but it’s such a fun and sweet request that I had a wonderful time with! Tysm, and please make sure that you’re taking care of yourself as well! Enjoy! Request guidelines are located here btw) Word Count: 2371

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything on earth has a niche, a designated function it gets to act out, a role it gets to fill. The Cape May Warbler, Bay-Breasted Warbler, and Yellow-Rumped Warbler have the top middle and bottom of a spruce tree to eat in, respectively. Humanity has its niche of expansion, whether it be out through the globe or up in towering metropolises.

If you had to specify your niche, it would just about have to be reading. Now, of course your life is filled with numerous aspirations, but your multifarious interests can all be classified under your affinity for books.

Any form of literature, thrillers, epics, romance novels, they all did it for you, enveloped the entirety of your attention in an immersive world.

That was without a doubt: they entertained you. 

At least, they made you feel inspired to do things, take action in your personal life, possibly commit to confessing certain feelings to a certain softshell turtle. Actually committing to the bit, though, was a completely different story.

In the extensive library you had under your belt, there were many a meet cute and innovative confession. However, just because it worked out in literature, it didn’t mean that you could actually do it. What if it ended up weird or cringe or downright friendship shattering?

The status quo was comfortable, subsisting off of shared time in your turtle-in-question’s lab, the two of you simultaneously performing your own tasks. You would sit and enrich yourself with a book, Donnie would tinker until he had something that piqued his interest, which happened rather frequently, and your attention would suddenly be on him. It was simple. It worked. Taking action could complicate things.

So, your inspiration remained squandered by doubt, an inkling of hope staying concealed internally.

At least, inspiration wouldn’t make anything occur unprompted, and, luckily, that nudge came swiftly.

Earlier, as you were straight chilling in a cozy bean bag chair in the lair’s living room, you saw Donnie enter the room out of your peripheral vision. However, he only seemed like a purple blur because your attention was on the thick, dense book sitting on your lap. The cover was of a similar slickness and feel to that of a textbook, the size was as well, but this read was solely for entertainment. The content could practically be summed up as history of the entire world, i guess but fleshed out with more anecdotes and primary sources.

You had been soaking in a finely written excerpt entailing early hominid tool use, accompanied by an image of a related artifact, when you felt a presence leaning over your shoulder. You opted to continue your train of thought through the lines until you heard a familiar timbre clear its throat behind you. With a sigh, you placed a finger on your spot and faced one Donatello.

“Something the matter?” You blinked slowly.

“Oh, nothing,” he shrugged, expression seeming intentionally cool, “just checking out the book choice for today.”

You lifted the book from your lap to display the contents to him.

His eyes skimmed over the page before he grinned slightly. “Ah, prehistoric archaeology? I could dig it.”

You pursed your lips, trying to keep your thought from spilling out of your mouth before ultimately giving in to your amusing whims. “Leo ahh humor.”

Donnie gaped. “Gasp, you wound me. I rescind my statement and shall not be partaking in any archaeological reading-slash-discussion with you.”

“I’m just messing around, ‘Tello. I can dabble in some crude wordplay.”

“Crude?”

“Crude. Heck, I’d bargain to say that was more archaic than the sector of human history I’m in right now, and they don’t even have wheels.”

He raised a curious brow, visibly less offended. You could work with that.

“Rather intriguing. Care to join me?” You patted the ample space on the bean bag next to you.

Curiously, he stared at you, then the space you were offering, and back, before slipping beside you.

“Care to enlighten me on this subject?” he parried, and with a grin, you were off, describing the main theme of the page, the early development of primates and humans, as well as outside archaeological examples that you knew of, the whole nine yards.

As you rambled on, you locked eyes with him occasionally, and his eyes were intrigued saucers every time you did. It made something in your brain click.

He played along with your banter. He was sitting right beside you, absorbing your words so vehemently and genuinely and ohmigosh this guy of all people wouldn’t judge you for trying something that could be weird. Heck, he’s a fanatic of oddities, anything mystic or scientific, so if he didn’t like you asking him out, at the very least he’d admire the effort. So, you were inspired to try something, finally take some action.

You were going for it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You set to work on your asking-out endeavor as soon as you arrived home.

At first you tried looking at STEM-related pickup lines.

Sardonically, of course. You wanted something that got your point across without seeming too vulnerable, something you could play off in the scenario you got completely and irrevocably rejected.

“I less than three you… That’s not that bad,” you scrolled through the results of your search, perched at your kitchen table.

You only made it down the list to ‘the square root of all my fantasies is you’ until you actually needed to call it quits on that route. There was a fine line between being intentionally corny and the monstrosity that was that line.

So you took the next completely logical leap: concocting a page full of intricate mathematical and scientific questions, the answers of which spelled out an encrypted message.

It was the sane thing to do. 

4  1  20 5          20 15 13  15  18  18 15 23 ?

D  A  T  E          T   O   M   O   R   R  O  W ?

You scribbled the message on a scrap piece of paper. You entertained the idea of writing a whole sentence, but just these two words covered the gist clearly and concisely. Plus, coming up with questions for only two words was enough to melt your brain.

“Limit as x approaches sixteen of the square root of x… equals… yeah, four. That works,” you mumbled. “One down,” you sucked in a deep breath, “eleven to go. Crud.”

The next few hours blended together aimlessly, riddled with just about every mathematical scenario you could conjure up. Sure, derivatives and Planck’s Constant and the unit circle (the bane of your existence) were all ambitious topics to have on the totally inconspicuous worksheet, but, to quote a phrase, go big or go home. When in Rome also works.

By the time you reached ungodly hours in the night, you had curated a functional way to surprise and ask out your best friend. With your brain oozing out of your ears, you put the paper somewhere safe and collapsed face down on your bed.

You would have mentally prepared yourself to give him the paper tomorrow if not for the calculus-derived headache already splitting your mind.

Instead, you immediately dozed off.

You could deal with the minutiae of tomorrow… tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day when you waltzed into the lair, he was conveniently seated at the desk in his lab.

“Heya D! I come bearing gifts.” You presented him with the paper as coolly as you could, keeping all the panic and nerves internal, and took up the chair beside him.

“A calculus sheet?” He grinned. “You shouldn’t have.”

After a moment of looking at it, however, his eyes dimmed and smile lessened. “...You shouldn’t have.”

You faltered. “Oh, gosh, is it that bad?”

“Which letter corresponds with negative one?”

“What?” you exclaimed. “Oh nononono no, I checked my math like five times, it’s not even possible-”

“The derivative of cosine theta is negative sine theta. Not positive. Simple mistake, really. It was a valiant effort of- whatever you were trying to do.”

You blinked, smacked your lips. Well, that was the end of that. You would just take your leave and move out of the city and change your name and never feel anything again. Easy.

“Just forget I did anything, forget this paper exists- like, what paper even?” You reached for the sheet of paper only for him to use the mechanical extensions on his battle shell to hold it out of your reach.

“No, my interest is piqued,” he smirked. You could almost feel the mischievousness emanating from him. “I will gladly continue, if you do not mind.”

You complied and sat stiffly, anxiously glancing about the lab, until you saw him pick up a utensil and start marking on the paper.

“Are you correcting it with a pen? Are you seriously grading this right now?” you muttered. You weren’t mad, just thoroughly panicked.

He stopped writing momentarily. “What? No, not grading, per say. This is just how I’m deciphering this.”

You knew that tone and you knew that was a lie. 

“I- ugh,” you flopped your head down on his desk and closed your eyes. “Just tell me when you’re done fixing it. I spent a needlessly long amount of time on this just for it to be terrible.”

He didn’t deny that it was terrible, though you excused that to him being busy and hopefully not him agreeing.

Although, with how quickly his pen was scratching marks on the page, the latter seemed more feasible.

You focused on taking deep, steadying breaths, relaxing to the sounds of the busy pen until it suddenly stopped.

Lifting your head from its place, you saw he had completely stilled, staring at the paper with wide eyes and upturned lips.

“What? Did you spot another comically egregious mistake?” you mumbled, halfway intrigued.

He took another few seconds to answer you. “Something like that.” And with that nothingness of an answer, he started writing again, much more fervently.

“Okay then.” You went to put your head down again before he slammed the paper down before you.

“Boom! Here is the revised and finalized version of the worksheet,” he grinned.

You narrowed your eyes at the comments about your inability to include units, corrections on when something was supposed to be negative, but the markings at the bottom of the page were what caught your attention the most.

When you looked at the corner of the page, you saw an odd combination of zeros and ones. 

01101111 01101000 00100000 01111001 01100101 01110011 00100000 01110000 01101100 01100101 01100001 01110011 01100101 

“Actually, what is this?” You gestured to the code.

“It’s my response.”

“And you had to put it in binary?”

“You’re the one who wanted to talk in codes.” He sounded frustratingly nonchalant.

“Yeah, but-” you considered asking him to directly tell you, but maybe this was slightly less nerve wracking. Ripping off the bandaid be darned, you took the coward’s way out and pulled out your phone. “Man, I let you get away with way too much stuff. Has this interaction not dragged on painstakingly enough?”

“The greater the hardship, the greater the reward,” he commented with a shrug.

That pleasant surprise of a response made you copy the ones and zeros faster into the binary decoding website you’d searched up.

Just as you had everything in and your finger steadied over the button that would tell you what he was saying, you hesitated, steadied yourself with a deep breath, and hit it.

Nothing could have prepared you for the rush of adrenaline and euphoria that washed over you at seeing his answer.

“Ohmigosh, you’re serious?! Because you cannot be joking like this, Donatello.”

“As the plague.” One of his hands rested on his chest, the other was in the air as if taking an oath.

“Haha, yes!” you cheered, spinning the desk chair you were in. The late night and headache had paid off, and it felt great!

“So, where am I accompanying you tomorrow?” He mused.

Immediately, you paused. You’d only spent time thinking about the part where you ask him out, not the actual going out part.

“Where? Uhh, I hadn’t really gotten to that point of the planning stage.”

“You were too focused on biffing a math paper to actually plan out its intended purpose?”

“Yeah, not my brightest decision, nor my best work. It was a rather dumb decision on my behalf.”

“You are a dum-dum, but just because of how needlessly complex you made this, not because of your mathematical errors.”

“I genuinely don’t know if I should take offense to that or not.”

“Maybe you should be thinking about where we’re going tomorrow? Just a thought.”

You clicked your tongue. “Fine, uhh coffee?”

“A little trite for a first date, no?” Donnie propped his elbow up on the desk and rested his chin on his hand, smiling widely.

“Okay then, coffee and we go to the library?”

“Don’t we normally do that anyway? What about it makes it a ‘da-”

“Donnie, I am running on fumes from making the erroneous atrocity that is that worksheet last night. If you don’t have any suggestions, coffee at the library works. If you have a contribution, go right ahead.” You put your hands up in surrender.

Donnie’s smugness faded slightly and he lightly nudged your elbow. “Coffee at the library sounds great. And for what it’s worth, I appreciate that you tried to do something innovative. It was truly a highly admirable effort.”

“Thanks, D.”

“Of course.  But from now on, let’s leave the math to the professionals.”

There it was again: the sass.

“Oh, that’s a low blow.” You shook your head, still smiling.

“A low blow would be mentioning how you confused the natural logarithm for a standard logarithm. You see, when you have e to the power of…”

The corrections and banter flourished on from there, the both of you giggling and getting mockingly, lightheartedly angry with each other.

Despite your interests in different subjects, the two of you understood each other. It was wonderful to have a partner that you could be niche with wherever and whenever.

It was almost worth all the math and science it took to get there.

(I actually made inconspicuous math worksheet that reader made for Donnie, and it is linked HERE!)

[materialsscienceandengineering]

Self-driving lab transforms electronic polymers discovery

Plastic that conducts electricity might sound impossible. But there is a special class of materials known as "electronic polymers" that combines the flexibility of plastic with the functionality of metal. This type of material opens the door for breakthroughs in wearable devices, printable electronics and advanced energy storage systems. Yet, making thin films from electronic polymers has always been a difficult task. It takes a lot of fine-tuning to achieve the right balance of physical and electronic properties. Researchers at the U.S. Department of Energy's (DOE) Argonne National Laboratory have created an innovative solution to this challenge with artificial intelligence (AI). They used an AI-driven, automated materials laboratory, a tool called Polybot, to explore processing methods and produce high-quality films. Polybot is located at the Center for Nanoscale Materials, a DOE Office of Science user facility at Argonne.

Read more.

[comida-comiendo]

HACKING THE MIND: HOW DIY BRAIN STIMULATION IS TRANSFORMING NEUROHACKING AND PERSONAL EMPOWERMENT

The rise of Neurohacking: enhancing your brain with DIY stimulation tools In recent years, the concept of self-optimization has taken a fascinating turn with the rise of neurohacking -an emerging movement where individuals use scientific tools to enhance their brain function. Among the various methods employed by neurohackers, do-it-yoursefl (DIY) brain stimulation stands out as one of the most intriguing and accessible ways for the peopel to boost their congnitive abilities. This essay will explore the evolutions of DIY brain stimulation, its place within the larger context of biohacking and lifehacking movements, the ethical considerations surrounding its use, and the potential future impact of neurohacking on both individual lives and society at large.

What is neurohacking and biohacking? At its core, neurohacking refers to the practice of optimizing brain function through various technological, pharmacological, or behavioral interventions. This could involve anything from using nootropic supplements to stimulate cognitive abilities and employing supplements to stimulate cognitive abilities, to employing techniques like transcranial direct current stimulation (tDCS) to improve focus or memory. Biohacking, a broader concept, refers to the practice of using scientific knowledge and DIY methods to enhance one’s biology -whether it’s through altering diet, incorporating fitness routines, or experimenting with genetic modifications. Both neurohacking and biohacking are driving by the desire to take control of one’s physical and mental state, often bypassing traditional medical or scientific gatekeepers. These movements, often referred to as subcultures, have grown in prominence over the past two decades as individuals seek to improve not just their productivity but also their well-being. At the heart of both movements is the idea that anyone -regardless of their background- should be able to access tools, techniques, and knowledge to optimize their bodies and minds.

DIY brain stimulation: the new frontier of neurohacking The DIY brain stimulation movement gained significant traction around 2011, when individuals began constructing devices that apply low levels of electrical stimulation to the brain to achieve cognitive enhancement. This practice is grounded in de science of brain plasticity -the idea that the brain can reorganize itself and form new neural connections throughout life. By applying weak electrical currents to specific areas of the brain, individuals hope to improve various cognitive functions, such as memory, focus, or problem-solving skills. While the use of tDCS and other brain stimulation techniques was once confined to research labs and clinical settings, the DIY movement has democratized these tools, making them accessible to anyone willing to experiment. As a result, DIY brain stimulation has become a small but growing subculture, particularly within online communities like Reddit, where people exchange tips, share experiences, and troubleshoot issues related to the use of brain-stimulating devices. This shift toward DIY brain stimulation is no t isolated but is part of a larger trend in the biohacking community, where individuals aim to break down the barriers between professional scientific knowledge and everyday life. Like DIY biology -a movement that seeks to make biology accessible to non-experts- DIY brain stimulation reflects a desire for self-experimentation and personal empowerment.

Neurohacking in the context of lifehacking and biohacking movements The DIY brain stimulation movement exists within a larger context of movements dedicate to self-improvement and optimization. One of the key influences on neurohacking is the lifehacking movement, which involves optimizing daily routines, habits, and personal data to improve efficiency and performance. In this sense, neurohacking can be seen as an extension of lifehacking -enhancing the brain to increase productivity, creativity, or emotional well-being. Additionally, neurohacking shares similarities with the quantified self movement, which involves tracking various metrics related to health and performance, such as sleep patterns, physical activity, or cognitive output. For neurohackers, self-quantification might involve measuring changes in cognitive performance before and after using brain stimulation devices. The ultimate goal of these movements is to optimize human potential and harness technology to enhance physical and mental capabilities. These movements, while diverse in their focus, all share a common philosophy: the belief that through self-optimization, individuals can improve their quality of life. In this context, DIY brain stimulation serves as a powerful tool for those seeking to push the limits of their cognitive performance.

Ethical considerations and risks While the DIY brain stimulation movement offers exciting possibilities for cognitive enhancement, it also raises important ethical and safety concerns. One of the main important ethical and safety concerns. One of the main issues is the lack of regulation surrounding the use of these technologies. In contrast to clinical applications, where brain stimulation is carefully monitored and administered by medical professionals, the DIY approach is unregulated and based on self-guidance. This opens potential risks, such as improper use, inadequate understanding of the technology, and the possibility of harmful side effects like skin burns or headaches. Moreover, the ethical considerations extend beyond individual safety. There are concerns about accessibility and inequality: will these technologies be used responsibly, or will they exacerbate existing societal divides, where only those with access to these tools can benefit from enhanced cognitive performance? Furthermore, there is no question of the long-term effects of brains simulation on cognitive health, particularly when used outside of a clinical setting. These concerns highlight the need for a more nuanced policy approach to neurohacking. Rather than merely regulating the use of brain stimulation devices, it is essential to consider the broader social implications of these technologies and ensure that they are used responsibly and ethically.

The future of neurohacking: empowering individuals and societies As the DIY brain stimulation movement continues to grow, its potential to reshape the way we approach brain health and cognitive performances is immense. The movement has already sparked innovation in neurotechnology and could lead to more personalized and accessible forms of cognitive enhancement. For individuals, neurohacking offers the possibility of improving mental clarity, focus and productivity, leading to better performance in personal and professional life. At a societal level, the rise of neurohacking could challenge traditional structures of power and knowledge. It empowers individuals to take charge of their cognitive well-being, by-passing medical gatekeepers and traditional institutions. This shift could democratize access to health and wellness, breaking down barriers to self-improvement and making these technologies available to a broader range of people. However, the future of neurohacking will depend on how society addresses the ethical and regulatory challenges that accompany these innovations. As the movement grows, it will be essential to find a balance between individual autonomy and collective responsibility to ensure that neurohacking remains a force for good.

Conclusion The DIY brain stimulation movement represents an exciting frontier in the broader landscape of neurohacking and biohacking. While it is part of a growing trend of self-experimentation and optimization, it also raises important ethical and safety questions that must be addressed. As more individuals embrace the power of neurohacking, it is crucial to consider the long-term implications of these technologies, both for individual users and for society as a whole. By understanding the broader social and cultural context in which DIY brain stimulation exists, we can better navigate the ethical challenges and ensure that these tools are use responsibly and for the benefit of all.

If you are needing some researches to have actuallized your web content or whatever you want, in health's matters or humanities related in health, you can ask to me at holabruxita@gmail.com and explain me your ideas.

Reference of the article

Wexler, A. (2017). The Social Context of “Do-It-Yourself” Brain Stimulation: Neurohackers, Biohackers, and Lifehackers. Frontiers in Human Neuroscience, 11(224). Massachusetts Institute of Technology. https://doi.org/10.3389/fnhum.2017.00224

If you are needing knowledge about what can you do for your with your nutrition and all that the nature gives you, you can ask to me at holabruxita@gmail.com and explain me your case.

Thank you!

[milfmilker420]

"Many people believe that gain-of-function research was one of the key causes of the COVID pandemic that struck us in the last decade," said White House secretary Will Scharf. "What this executive order does first of all, it provides powerful new tools to enforce the ban on federal funding for gain-of-function research abroad. It also strengthens other oversight mechanisms related to that issue and creates an overarching strategy to ensure that biomedical research in general is being conducted safely."

Many scientists refute that theory, arguing that the weight of the evidence suggests the pandemic started when someone in China was infected by a wild animal carrying the virus.

That said, many scientists also agree that better oversight is needed because of the possible risks. But many worry a moratorium would be too broad and could stifle safe research and that is necessary to prevent or respond to the next pandemic.

"If we ban it, the next time another COVID virus comes through we won't have the data to quickly find new treatments, screening and even preventative measures," says Kristin Matthews, a fellow in science and technology policy at Rice University's Baker Institute for Public Policy.

listen, should “gain of function” research be monitored? yes. it is very risky and should not be dealt with lightly. but this research is vital to preventing and treating disease, and his racist lies about Covid being started in a lab in China (despite the evidence showing otherwise) is harming not just Americans, but the whole world. if another pandemic happens, we will not have the knowledge and data needed to respond quickly and save lives. he does not care if anyone dies as long as he is in power.

[superchemistryclasses]

Explore Chemistry Apparatus with Pictures – A Visual Guide for Students

Stepping into a chemistry lab for the first time can be overwhelming. Rows of glassware, unfamiliar instruments, and complex setups can leave students puzzled. But don’t worry—this visual guide for students is here to make your chemistry journey easier. Through this article, you’ll get to explore chemistry apparatus with pictures, learn what each tool does, and understand how it’s used in real…

[faolonfiendrender]

How I imagine the mechs run cons:

Jonny kinda just gets drunk and improvises. It works really fucking well a lot of the time. Also, slight penchant for rigged games of chance, picking a random but lethal game, becoming the dealer in any casino game, that sort of thing. (Wonder where he picked that up)

Ashes considers fraud to be like the second or third funnest crime, obviously not beating arson and murder, but still rather fun. Ashes also has a wide range when it comes to what con they choose, but often it includes showing off manipulation skills.

Brian’s favorite con is fake prophecies or real and not useful prophecies. Granted it often isn’t a con, and he’s just being a prophet, so I’m not sure this counts.

Marius just gets up to all sorts of medical quackery, sometimes he starts a radiation fad on planets in that critical development phase where they know what radiation is but don’t know it hurts you. Sometimes Marius does sell working medicine as well as fakes or simply functional and deeply stupid medicine, depends on his mood.

The toy soldier is kinda bad at cons, more because sometimes it commits to the bit too hard and actually renders promised services even when not logically plausible. It is rather convincing it just tends to pretend to fulfill the service as opposed to pretending to pretend to fulfill the service.

Calling Raph’s cons cons is kind of not accurate, She often publishes science that works and is greatly in advance of what they have and as such is hard to replicate. Also sometimes just walking into a lab and leaving with hard to find tools or materials.

Ivy is very very meticulous when she does run a con. Every detail planned and documented, the methods vary, but there will be at least five ways to pull the plug, and the targets to get access to are often books, archival hdds and the like.

Tim tends to go violent enough that it can’t really be called a con anymore, though he did steal the identity of the “war hero” Achilles for a bit while in the city.

Nastya’s preferred scam method is becoming an engineer for the mark, and as such gaining widespread access to everything.

[raudart]

What's Shockwave like in your AU?

shockwave is actually a surgeon in shipwrecked! his alt mode is a med-evac helicopter and though he prefers operating and experimenting in his lab, he does have plenty of experience with battlefield surgery. his gun arm is actually a multi-tool with several surgical implements he can cycle through, alongside being a functioning laser rifle and second servo.

before the war he was a medical professor at the iacon academy of sciences pioneering experimental procedures, including that of complete frame reformatting: a highly controversial theoretical experiment in changing a bot's forged frame caste from warfame to civilian and vice versa. the fact that he was making legitimate progress in turning the theoretical viable (alongside his own questionable theorem and morals) turned heads within the council and thus led to his empurata.

he shares his lab space with soundwave and was the one to perform his frame reformat into a warframe, one of the few successful reformats in history, and has been his primary caregiver since soundwave's fatigue set in. shockwave might be an expert when it comes to medicine but he isn't as well versed in the technical side of things, so soundwave helps him when he needs tech support or to have someone show him how to edit a pdf.

he also shares his lab space with another member of the nemesis crew involved in the crash: sunstorm!

[varanere00]

"Really?" Doc had just entered his workshop, coffee in hand, still half asleep, when he spotted Scar, half wrapped up in ropes he was still tying, on his otherwise pristine work table.

"Why hello there, Doc! Don't you remember kidnapping me on this fine morning?" Scars smile was brilliant, even as he fumbled one of the knots, dropping it entirely. "If you could be a dear and finish tying me up, that would be just wonderful! Can't have your kidnappee untied now can you?"

"Oh void, I just wanted to calibrate my new arm today." Doc muttered, rubbing his face. "You know what, that's fine, if you break in here and insist I kidnapped you, you're gonna be my test dummy now." He decided.

"Test dummy? You're not going to take my arm off, now are you Doc?" Only silence answered Scar. "...Doc?"

"Hush now. Good test subjects only speak when spoken to." Doc scooped Scar off the table, depositing him over his creeper back like a sack of potatoes. He then padded off, heading from the mechanical workshop to the medical lab. Once there, he deposited Scar on the rolling stool others that didn't have four legs used when working in here.

"So you can shut up, I was wondering. Might still gag you, you look so pretty with your lips stretched wide." Doc ran the pad of thumb over Scars lower lip, before beginning to undo the ropes.

"Of course, of course, you promised Unethical Science!" Scar chirped excitedly. Doc chuckled.

"Don't let Cub hear you say that. Does he know you're here?" He finished untying Scar, only to hoist him up and over to the treatment chair, a padded thing with wide leather straps looking like a cross between a dentist's and a gynecologists chair, but with mobile armrests.

"Oh, of course, I told CubCub I was heading over here! Told him you kidnapped me right out of my bed!" Scar was enthusiastically cooperating with being strapped down firmly.

"Of course you did. Silly me. You stay here, I'll go text him real quick so he doesn't worry, then I'll be back and do experiments on you, yes?" Doc carefully pried open Scars jaw, fitting him with a green ball gag, before disappearing from his field of view to text Cub and let him know where Scar was and what he was planning for him. Cub did have limits on what could be done to Scar, and this should be fine. It wasn't permanent, he'd let both of them have their fun and then pull everything back out. Barely more invasive than a few IV ports.

Doc made his way back to Scar with a metal tray full of instruments. He could see the curiosity burning in Scars eyes. "You want to know what I'm going to do to you, don't you?"

Fervent nodding.

"Well that's too bad. I'm not explaining anything." The sad whine from behind the gag was music to his ears. Doc cut off Scars shirt, knowing it wasn't one he cared about. He then carefully disinfected the area around Scars right clavicle, and injected a low grade local anesthetic. While that took effect, he headed back over to the equipment closets, to fetch more supplies and swap his everyday arm for a sterile medical one.

Despite changing arms often multiple times per day, he would never get used to the jolt that went through him as the nerves disconnected, and the stabbing tingle as they synced up with the new arm. He flexed his fingers, both to check the function of the arm and to get rid of the lingering feeling. Now equipped and geared up, he turned back to his lab rat.

A quick scan revealed everything was where he expected. Doc set the first of the small ports against Scars skin, the fingers on his right hand blooming open to reveal all sorts of microsurgery tools, which he used to make quick work of opening Scar up just enough to set the thin port in place and reach the buried nerve.

He repeated this procedure three more times, until he had a tiny access window to each of the four nerves of brachial plexus. Into each of these ports he wired highly specialized electrodes, similar to what he has on his own brachial plexus, but different in that these were meant to hijack intact nerve bundles, not continue severed ones. The resulting mess of wires was plugged into a receiver that he could directly interface with using his cranial bionics. Done with modifying Scar for the moment, Doc tidied up his workspace, and untied Scars right arm.

"I know you're wondering what I did to you." He began conversationally, almost waiting for an answer despite Scar still being gagged and having his head strapped down too well to nod. "Well, what I did is hijack your nerves. Observe." He sent out a movement command. Scars whole arm twitched. Scars eyes were wide.

"Hm. Will need some more practice with that, I think. Fortunately, we have time." Doc grinned widely at Scar, who shivered. Doc got to work patiently fine-tuning his control over Scars arm. It was going wonderfully, the new electrodes working just the way he wanted once calibrated.

"Looking good so far. Now, for the ultimate test." He used Scars own hand to open Scars fly. As expected, Scar was fully hard and leaking. Seeing as how the difficult part was over, and the sealed ports would keep any infection and foreign bodies out, Doc settled down to sit on his hind-legs, and started to jerk Scar off using Scars own hand he now controlled.

"You're enjoying this aren't you. Being tied down and having control of you body taken away from you, only to have it turned against you." Doc was glad that his front paws were almost as dexterous as his hands, using one to pleasure himself while he continued to play with Scar. "You want to know the best part? The anesthetic I gave you earlier should start wearing off by now. So you should really be able to feel every last bit of it."

It would hurt, yes, but that was the plan. Since the wounds weren't too big, he figured Scar would enjoy it. "Can you feel it?" Doc tapped the ports in order, from left to right. "This one goes to your axillary nerve, the one responsible for your deltoid and upper arm muscles." He let the muscles flex one after the other, significantly more precise than Scar could. The ragged moan and panting he got from it were delicious.

"This one here," he continued, "is for your radial nerve. It does all kinds of fun things, like twisting your wrist and straightening your fingers." Again, he demonstrated, first by making Scar twist his wrist at the end of every upstroke, then by splaying out all his fingers and just using Scars palm to rub his dick where it was trapped against Scars belly. He had to cut this one short and fully remove Scars hand, as he could see the telltale tremor of oncoming orgasm in Scars thighs, and it was too early for that.

"Not yes, pet, I'm not done with my experiment or my explanation." He clicked his tongue chidingly at Scar, as if he had any say in what happened and was more than a puppet for him to control. He amused himself by plucking at Scars nipples and squeezing the scitties while he let Scar calm down enough that he could continue.

"This one goes to your median nerve. It bends the wrist, and curls the fingers. Well, three of them." Doc had Scar tighten his grip with just his thumb, index, and middle finger. A punched out groan forced its way past the gag.

"The last two fingers are controlled by the last nerve, the ulnar nerve." He tapped the last port, earning him a pained whimper, before he tightened Scars grip with all fingers and sped up the motions. "As I am sure you have noticed, all four of those nerves are now under my control. You can't do anything to stop me." Scars thighs were shaking again. "Even if I were to, say, make you cum but not let you stop."

Right on cue, Scar erupted into orgasm, whole body quaking hard in its binds. As promised, Doc showed no mercy and kept the stimulation up. "I bet I could automate this." He mused. "Set you up like this and force your body to keep going through muscle fatigue, way past anything you could do voluntarily." Scar was making little whimpers in the rhythm of his hand now, over-stimulation setting in.

"But that's for another day." Doc stopped all movement, and rested Scars sticky hand on his equally sticky stomach, before disengaging the controller and fishing the electrodes back out of Scars body.

"Alright, removing the ports will hurt, do you want another shot of anesthetic before?" Doc used his left hand to unclip the gag, keeping his right one sterile.

"Nah, just pull them." Scar sounded both exhausted and satisfied.

"Alright. But don't complain when it hurts." Doc changed the configuration of his hand to brace against the skin at the base of the port, gauze, suture kit, and healing salve at the ready, before a set of specialized grippers grabbed the port and pulled it out in one steady go. The other components whirred into action, applying the salve before suturing up the small opening with mechanical precision and speed and pressing on the gauze to stem any remaining bleeding. Doc paid no heed to Scars bitten off screams through clenched teeth as the pulled and sutured the other three ports. Finally, he added on last layer of wound dressing, a large, waterproof bandage, before unstrapping Scar and helping him up. Scar was in need of a shower and some aftercare with snuggles before Doc brought him back to Cub.

[mediaevalmusereads]

Gods and Robots: Myths, Machines, and Ancient Dreams of Technology. By Adrienne Mayor. Princeton University Press, 2018.

Rating: 4/5 stars

Genre: classics, mythology

Series: N/A

Summary: The fascinating untold story of how the ancients imagined robots and other forms of artificial life—and even invented real automated machines The first robot to walk the earth was a bronze giant called Talos. This wondrous machine was created not by MIT Robotics Lab, but by Hephaestus, the Greek god of invention. More than 2,500 years ago, long before medieval automata, and centuries before technology made self-moving devices possible, Greek mythology was exploring ideas about creating artificial life—and grappling with still-unresolved ethical concerns about biotechne, “life through craft.” In this compelling, richly illustrated book, Adrienne Mayor tells the fascinating story of how ancient Greek, Roman, Indian, and Chinese myths envisioned artificial life, automata, self-moving devices, and human enhancements—and how these visions relate to and reflect the ancient invention of real animated machines.As early as Homer, Greeks were imagining robotic servants, animated statues, and even ancient versions of Artificial Intelligence, while in Indian legend, Buddha’s precious relics were defended by robot warriors copied from Greco-Roman designs for real automata. Mythic automata appear in tales about Jason and the Argonauts, Medea, Daedalus, Prometheus, and Pandora, and many of these machines are described as being built with the same materials and methods that human artisans used to make tools and statues. And, indeed, many sophisticated animated devices were actually built in antiquity, reaching a climax with the creation of a host of automata in the ancient city of learning, Alexandria, the original Silicon Valley.A groundbreaking account of the earliest expressions of the timeless impulse to create artificial life, Gods and Robots reveals how some of today’s most advanced innovations in robotics and AI were foreshadowed in ancient myth—and how science has always been driven by imagination. This is mythology for the age of AI.

***Full review below.***

CONTENT WARNINGS: descriptions of myths that include violence and bestiality, mention of slavery

I first heard of this book when Adrienne Mayor was a guest on the Mindscape podcast. I found her ideas and arguments to be interesting, so I figured her book would expand on the concepts she explored on the podcast.

Overall, I think this book is an accessible intro for readers interested in classical studies and the history of science. Mayor writes clearly and without a lot of specialized terminology, so even if you're new to classics, you won't find this book difficult. I think the chapter about Talos was the most convincing and the most well-done, bringing together textual analysis and art history in a way I found intellectually pleasing.

As a scholar, however, I think this book could have gone a bit further, especially with its analysis of myths and texts. Mayor summarizes most of the myths she discusses, which is all well and good for situating the reader in the texts. But what I really wanted was more specific evidence and close reading: were there any interesting language choices used to describe this automaton? Did the Greeks have a certain vocabulary for artificial beings? As it stands, it felt like Mayor's textual analysis relied on general ideas, and while fine as a starting point, I really think it could have been pushed.

I also think there's some room to apply critical frameworks such as posthumanism and transhumanism theory. Applying such theories would enhance the meanings Mayor is trying to get at, but in all fairness, this may he beyond the scope of the book. Mayor seems to be relaying a history of ideas rather than trying to get at their interpretation, so maybe her book will function well as a springboard for other scholars and students to do this work.

Lastly, I do think this book could have been framed a little better to help me as a reader see some of the through-lines. There were moments when I wasn't sure how each of Mayor's examples fit in with the overall theme of "robots" or "artificial life," so maybe a better framing device would be the theme of biotechne rather than the sci fi approach that the book currently uses. Similarly, some further delineation between what constitutes "technology" versus magic (and even just "art") would have been helpful for seeing how each individual chapter builds upon the previous.

TL;DR: Gods and Robots is a good overview of the history of artifical life and technology in the ancient Greek world. This book is perhaps most useful as a springboard for further analysis, and historians, art historians, and literary scholars will find plenty to build on.

[realcleverscience]

There are different definitions of "AGI" (Artificial General Intelligence). Some people focus on AI's understanding and possibly even sentience, while many focus on what it can do. Some people define it as equivalent to the abilities of the average person; others, as equivalent to the abilities of experts.

Part of the challenge is that intelligence comes in many forms. For instance, the ability to grasp objects is a form of intelligence though it's not something people generally think of as a business-related skill. And at the same time, the moravec paradox observes that computers are great at things humans are not and vice versa (e.g. computers have a hard time grasping objects but can do advanced maths in milliseconds.) So, comparing human and machine intelligence is challenging.

That said, I favor the "what it can do" approach because that has the most immediate impact in people's lives. That is, if we have AI systems that can do economically useful work just as good as the average person (or even better, the average expert), that means a few things:

People won't be needed to work. (Jobs? Economy?)

All economic output could increase several times over. For instance, AI may advance our tech. At a minimum, robots can work 24/7/365 whereas humans work a fraction of that. Imagine our ability to fabricate advanced computing chips doubling, which can then be used to make more chips, etc.

We may have begun the "singularity", where digital based knowledge and skills skyrockets. This is because we will have reached a point where the AI can improve itself. This means expanding the types of jobs it can perform, improving its performance, and likely innovating new techniques or technologies to assist with its goals.

(Of course, that could have tremendously good or tremendously bad outcomes - e.g. global retirement and healthy ecosystem vs literal doom - but that's another discussion.)

This vid argues that we've hit AGI by this definition. And I think that by some narrow definitions, this may be the case. (I still think we need more accuracy, a better "ecosystem" for it to function, more real-world modeling, etc. OTOH, this isn't preventing it from being massively useful right now.) So, this doesn't mean that the things I just listed will happen tomorrow - but it does mean that we should be expecting more enormous advances in the lab, and start to see real world applications slowly beginning. The line between AI and AGI is quickly blurring. Buckle up.

p.s. I know casual readers probably hear about AI here and there but may still have a picture in their head of AI as basically just a tool for making crappy pictures. I'm begging y'all to see that AI is both way beyond that (e.g. it's now making literal movies, and rapidly approaching market-ready results) and more importantly, that it's much more than that. AI is advancing every field of science, from fusion energy to quantum computing to curing diseases and so much more. This is no longer a curiosity. This is real and it's here.