#Thought Exercise

[feyres-divorce-lawyer]

if sjm really wanted rhys to be the most powerful but also wanted him to be the ultimate victim ever looking over his shoulder, she should’ve made large uses of his powers debilitating and even just containing it leaves him in constant pain. i’m talking head-splitting vomit inducing pain after he mists people, or passing out for several days when he wipes a lot of people’s memories. it would’ve been so interesting so see a character that’s objectively op but then their body cannot handle such power. plus, his supposed cunning would’ve been more believable because he wouldn’t be able to rely on his powers so much, he’d have to be a good diplomat because if things resolve to violence, broski’s fainting. plus plus, the whole change takes time thing would’ve been…. reasonable. (still wouldn’t take 500 years tho).

[disillusionedmonster]

"Prostitution, as a practice, just is men telling women what they can and can’t do with their bodies. It’s men telling women how to use their bodies, how to move their bodies, how to dress their bodies. What men tell women do with their bodies is the primal guide for how prostitution functions; if we stopped, prostitution couldn’t function. Like all markets, supply responds to demand and the customer is always right. The problem is that the customer wants a fuckable object, not a human being."

[shadowqueenjude]

I've never seen anyone talk about it, but why tf is the Illyrian rite still allowed to continue? Literally, Illyrians are pitted against each other and forced to kill in order to achieve status in their realm. The Inner Circle agrees that it's fucked up, but nobody in the circle actually does anything about it (as usual). I'm sure they could stop it easily. Also, the Illyrian rite is one of the only Fae-like things I've seen outside of the first book; we lost that Fae feel after book 1. I would've liked it if the whole Night Court bad thing wasn't an act, and Feyre actually had to survive a wicked court and Rhysand. But we get Velaris instead. BOOOOOOOO.

[controlledescent]

Everyone loves the idea of humans as terrifying or disgusting to aliens, but what if they just think we're... cute? Inspired by the fact that humans will try to pet everything up to and including jellyfish on this planet, what if aliens just find us irresistibly adorable?

"Look, they don't have a single scale! They stay soft and smooth their whole lives like they never even go through a third molting!"

"The fur on their heads is so soft and warm, I just want to bury all six of my tentacles in it!"

Anyway, this is all to say that my new dream is to live in an alien petting zoo: being patted on the head all day, enrichment in the form of fun activities to show off human capabilities, and if someone puts five qualzerts into the dispenser and turns the crank a few times a small pile of french fries gets dumped into my enclosure as a snack.

[inawickedlittletown]

I keep thinking about how Buck and Tommy probably only just missed meeting each other because Buck sorta arrives to take his spot at the 118...but mostly I keep thinking about this because of who Buck was back then and also how we now know that Tommy was closeted. Buck 1.0 and Tommy (would 2.0 be applicable?)

And okay so if Tommy had remained...

Tommy probably would have found Buck attractive because obviously...but he also would clock Buck as straight right away and also an idiot. Meanwhile, I think Buck would have a kinda puppy hero worship thing going on that he doesn't realize is a crush but definitely becomes a friendship.

And I think with enough time, and with the 118 becoming into the family we know that Tommy would have come out and embraced that part of himself and that Buck in trying to be an ally would do research and realize stuff about himself too and also maybe how he feels about Tommy. And maybe enter Eddie Diaz and Buck and Tommy are just both screaming at world because it's unfair that he's straight but hey they have each other...

Hen and Chim cackle in the background. Bobby just shakes his head and pretends he doesn't know what's happening.

[floatingbook]

Do you eat breakfast? Are you hungry in the morning? Are you starving when you reach lunchtime? Do you stretch when you get up? Are you in pain when you wake up? Do you spend some time watching nature, the sun rising, the way trees sway in the wind, before you rush into your day? Do you rush into your day? Right out of bed, are you often cold? Do you wish you could have stayed under your blankets? A step out of bed, do you already dream about your next nap?

[whydidisavethistomyphone]

Leave in the tags what you think the answer is.

A: 25%

B: 0%

C: 50%

D: 25%

Reblog with an explanation of your answer

[s3znl-gr3znl]

I wish mental gymnastics were used for fun thought exercises and not "fascism is actually a good idea."

[ekat-fandom-blog]

Captain Marvel Power Sharing w/Marvel characters

(original idea from this post by @phoenixcatch7 + my addition and my other post based off of their post)

First, which characters are Cap/Shazam going to be sharing his powers with? Lets go easy and choose the Avengers: Thor, Hulk, Iron Man, Captain America, Black Widow, and Hawkeye.

If you don't know Captain Marvel's powers are Strength, Courage (invulnerability is part of this too), Stamina, Power (lightning and flight), Speed, and Wisdom.

Off the bat I'm thinking, Hulk and Thor do not need strength, but Black Widow and Hawkeye could use it. Considering Hawkeye tries not to get too close to the action let's give it to Black Widow.

Now, thinking about this, Hawkeye's the most vulnerable of the remaining 5 so I'm giving him the courage.

Now, let's look at power. Thor doesn't need it. And seeing as Iron Man can fly, I don't think he needs it either. Captain America on the other hand? Just turn him into a more patriotic, shield-wielding version of Thor. Giving it to Hulk could be useful too though. Let's table this one real quick.

Wisdom is what I want to look at next. None of the avengers are particularly in need of this one, but let's look at who doesn't need this one. Iron Man. He's a genius. Captain America may be able to use this, but considering the only reason Captain Marvel would share his powers is because they needed to in the heat of battle and Captain America is really good at War Tactics (depending on the version ofc) I don't think he needs it. Thor is the same. Hulk though. He's got all of Banner's brains but he's impulsive. Giving him wisdom is actually the best choice.

Going back to power, that leaves Captain America.

Speed and Stamina are all that are left, so let's look at the facts. Thor's already got great stamina, but Tony has to pilot a seriously heavy suit through the entire battle. Not that he can't do it, but it would be a major help if he was less tired by the climax.

And that leaves Thor with speed!

The lineup is: Black Widow with strength, Hawkeye with courage, Hulk with wisdom, Captain America with power, Iron Man with Stamina, and Thor with speed!

[cowboythirteen]

Plot Hole

We meet again

At a park

There’s wind lifting the ends of your hair

As we sit on the bench

Picking at indents and chipping wood

We try to find our way

Into the conversation that brought us here

Today

It’s awkward

And it’s hard

My hands shake

Despite my heart sitting calm

I’m emotional but not nervous

I’ve had all of these years to contend with

The why and how and what of it

I look into your eyes

And don’t see what I believed

Would be remorse or unflinching nonchalance

You aren’t even somewhere in-between

I thought I’d have so much to say

But my mouth stays closed and empty

We’re not looking around

Stumbling for any tension breaker we can

Swinging legs and shaking feet

Our past selves who sat comfortably

Contrast our current selves motionless and uneasy

There is no warmth

No direction

No would’ve could’ve should’ve

No wonderment

No love lost

No grief from the death of something important

Because it never existed

I look in your eyes

And watch

The wind lift your hair

Your mouth remain still

Your shoulders held back

One hand on the bench

One in your lap

Nothing has changed about your appearance

Besides the few years that have settled into your face

But you look different

This is all I’ve ever been able to imagine

If we were to meet again

[feyres-divorce-lawyer]

there’s something to be said abt feyre spending a lot of time around rhys, a cruel mind reader, and then the first time she has agency outside of him, she’s being a cruel mind reader. something something psychological conditioning, many thoughts. anyways, good morning☀️

[shadowqueenjude]

The Tyrant

The treacherous prince had taken over the kingdom. He had betrayed his noble brother and seized the throne. Many of the greedy courtiers and soldiers had turned on the noble brother at the chance for increased power the treacherous prince had offered. Only one man, his finest commander with a talent for people, had remained loyal. With his intelligence, had forseen the threat and led an army against him. He had lost, but the treacherous prince had not been satisfied. He wished to torment the only leader who had refused to be corrupted, the only man who was so utterly loyal that money meant nothing to him; he could not be bought. The treacherous prince kept this man alive to as a final insult to his dead brother, or so he told himself. But in reality, he kept him alive and tortured him because despite everything he had stolen from his noble brother, he was jealous. For all of his friends would turn on him the moment he lost power. It was why he had turned conquerer, conquering almost every native tribe remaining on the continent. Because he knew the moment he showed weakness, the vipers would strike. This fine commander was so loyal he refused to bow and still declared a dead man the true king. He had stripped him of his lands, his title, his honor, his sculpted body, his freedom. He had killed his parents and his wife. The fine commander was a slave of all kinds; he did manual labor, sex work, housework; whatever the treacherous prince thought would torment him the most. But no matter what he did, the man's spirit would not be broken. He would not bow to him, no matter what manner of slavery he did, no matter how many lashes the treacherous prince bestowed on him. The treacherous prince could not understand it- the unbreakable spirit. How had he not been broken? It was as such: the fine commander had a secret. A beautiful secret more precious than all the diamonds in the world. The only reason he hadn't broken. But one day, the treacherous prince who had now become a tyrant discovered it. The former commander had a daughter. The tyrant beheld her once: she was grown, but clearly just into womanhood. She was the most beautiful woman the tyrant had ever seen. And he desired her with all of his wicked heart. So one day, he dragged the former commander into the throneroom in front of his court. "You still haven't paid the debt of your treachery."

The former commander had not lost his fire. He spat on the floor beneath the tyrant standing over him. "You have taken everything from me but my soul. That, I'm afraid, you cannot take from me. It is not tarnishable by man or beast." The tyrant controlled his temper, knowing he had the winning play in mind, the one that would finally break the last tether his noble brother had to this world. "I have not taken everything just yet." He smiled wider, letting the former commander slowly guess at what the tyrant had discovered. "You still have your daughter."

The former commander's eyes widened and he began to sob. "Please, not my daughter. I'll do anything."

"Will you kneel to me?" the tyrant crooned. "Yes," he said. "Would you die for her?" "Yes." "Would you bear any kind of torture for her?" "Yes." The tyrant smiled. "Well, unfortunately, it's not up to you." He jerked his chin at his guards. "Twenty lashes. Find the daughter." "NO!" the former commander screamed in terror as those screams soon turned to screams of pain. It was all for nothing. The daughter soon came of her own free will upon hearing her father was suffering. "Father!" she cried upon seeing his bloodied body. The former commander could barely keep conscious, but he tried telling his daughter to run, to keep far away- "What have you done to him?" the beautiful daughter cried. She glared fiercely at the tyrant. "You're a monster! Hasn't my father suffered enough? Sadist!" "Quiet, or that will be you next," the tyrant thundered. But the beautiful daughter had the same unbreakable spirit as her father. "Torture me, kill me, but it won't fill the hollowness of your heart, oh Tyrant! You cannot break us! Break our bodies, but our souls cannot be touched by anything that exists in this world! You will never own us! LET HIM GO!" The tyrant didn't know if it was his paranoia, but he could've sworn the smell of thunder was in the room. Magic had been killed off centuries ago, magical lines either being killed off or dying out. "What would you be willing to give in exchange for his freedom?"

The daughter hesitated. "Don't," the former commander groaned. But the beautiful daughter could no longer bear to see her father in pain. He had gone through hell to keep her safe. It was now her turn. "What are you asking?" The tyrant smiled. "Would you marry me in exchange for his freedom?" The beautiful daughter took a deep breath. She could stomach this tyrant, so her father could live his last years in peace. "Yes." The tyrant smiled. "Excellent. Then I grant your father freedom. From life." And he brought his sword down upon the former commander's neck. It was the last mistake the tyrant would ever make. Rage so powerful filled the beautiful daughter's bones, seeping through every inch of her body. Her eyes sizzled a crackling electric blue. She released a bloodcurdling scream as a lightning bold arced from the sky into her chest, then ricocheted and split into smaller bolts that reduced the tyrant's entire court to cinders. Magic had never died, the tyrant soon realized. It had only been repressed. Scared away to the furthest corners of the world. But it still existed. This mighty daughter was proof. The daughter roared and reached her arms to the sky, collecting another bolt. The tyrant did not think to do anything but run. Tyrant he would be no longer, but a coward. But the mighty storm wrapped bolt after bolt around the coward, knocking him to his knees. The storm would take its time, the coward realized with no small amount of horror. He hadn't been killed with the first strike so he could die this slow, torturous death. The coward screamed as the electricity slowly fried him from the inside out. The storm only laughed maniacally. There was no mercy to be had. All mercy had died with the fine fine commander. And when the coward was nothing but ash, the grieving daughter went for her father's body. The head was still connected to the body by a few threads as if some mighty being had wanted the daughter to be able to honor him properly. Tears flowed endlessly down the daughter's face, but she gently laid her father outside of the palace main doors. Hand-dug his grave and gently rolled his body in. Then she sealed it and sighed. Given that the entirety of the court was now dead, she was now Queen. But after all that had just happened...she would be the broken queen.

[greentrickster]

Cosmic Ant Farmer

Cosmic entity/deity talking to a human and using the “you’re like ants to me” metaphor, and the human gets offended. Except the entity/deity reacts to this offense in confusion, before elaborating.

“Perhaps it is an explanation that needs more detail. Some of you have the habit of sometimes keeping ants in a box - you call them farms - where you watch and care for them. That is as you and your kind are to myself, and your world is the box you reside in - an elaborate one where sustenance is self-sustaining. I may observe you dig out your creations, reshape your environment to your likes, fight, grow, share sustenance, die. I may watch over you. Care for you. Love you. But there are so many of you, and you are so small and different from myself... it is a trial to even begin to tell you apart, let alone truly intuit your thoughts, your desires. And if it seems I understand well, it is only because I have had so long to watch, to observe, to study the external workings of your kind.

“And, as the ant farmer, while I am so much more powerful, so much more, there is so little I may truly do that would be of aid to you. To exert great influence without true understanding would lead to destruction and chaos. To bring you to a new, perhaps better box would be to destroy all that was made before and perhaps cost many lives. To undo all you have made.

“So know this: if you are ants, then I am your farmer. I take pride in your accomplishments and sorrow in your tragedies, and offer what aid I may to beings that, in truth, require very little from me to survive, to flourish, to do great things by your own workings. I cannot be as you seem to wish me to be, as an ant farmer cannot know each individual ant in a colony of thousands. But know this: you are cared for. You are loved. You are as ants to me, and it is my hope that perhaps that is not so bad a thing to be.”

[llort]

Heuristic for Transforming Mental Events into an Ontological Equivalent to Base SI Units

I was curious about if it was possible to model cognitive activity as a physical system so I just created an equivalent qualitative metric to at least be able to have some degree of relative quantification of mental phenomena. Obviously these units are optimal for how I experience subjective reality but I hope that it will at least be interesting and maybe even useful to someone

Internal/External Objective|Subjective|Abstract reality => IEOSA

Totality of perceivable or mentally reconstructed reality|possible worlds

00 Standard SI units and Conversion to Neural Wireframe Substrate

01 S (Second) -> (CT0))

02 M (Meter) -> (One Relative MR Length)

03 KG (Kilogram) -> (Vividness of MR Qualia/Intensity of Focus/Attention)

04 A (AMPERE) - > (Spontaneous Fluidity of Emergent Properties/Associations))

05 K (Kelvin) -> (Stability and Half Life of MR Entity)

06 m (Mol) -> ( n=(Amount of Nodes, Edges, Planes, Modules, and Axioms) present in a n)

07 cd (Candela) -> (Prominence of Focus of Pure MR over External Subjective Reality Sensory Input)

CT0 -> minimal resolution of a timeframe of active conscious perception

MR -> Mental Reconstruction; Directed Mental Visualization

Due to how the brain is neurologically wired, subjective experience is relative to itself or another phenomena so the key to deriving M is to just to visualize two points in your mind and their existence in themselves defines one M, it doesn't have to be a static distance.

[floatingbook]

How long does it take you to get ready in the morning, from the moment you step out of bed to the moment you’re ready to get out of the door? How much time do you spend on selecting your clothes, on washing your face, on doing your make-up and your hair? At your quickest, how fast can you be? What’s the least amount of time you can bear to spend on getting ready? Could you use this extra time for something else? In the morning, are you prioritising things out of societal pressure? Are there parts of your morning routine you’d really like to get rid of, but keep doing because you have to look a certain way? For whose benefit are you doing each step of your morning routine?

[merlin-wolfgang-trades-hale]

McDanno thought experiment/exercise. Reblog and tell me, both of them placed in the role of Orpheus...do you think they would resist looking back? 

(I encourage people to explain their thought process. Please be kind to anyone who has different thoughts and opinions.) 

Thought process was brought on by tags by: @trickster-archangel