#reculture

[cognitivejustice]

A new report from the Ocean Conservancy connects recently enacted statewide plastic bag bans to a significant drop in the number of plastic grocery bags cleaned up from beaches. The noticeable impact of law-making is a sharp contrast to the many years of effort spent urging individuals to voluntarily bring reusable bags when shopping.

In the report, Conservancy scientists note that statewide plastic grocery bag bans covered only 12 percent of the U.S. population in 2020. Since then, new legislation has more than doubled that figure. Eleven states now have statewide bans, covering 25 percent of the U.S. population. Hundreds of municipal governments have also banned plastic bags, according to the report.

The research measures the impact of bag bans by tracking the number of bags collected by the Conservancy’s International Coastal Cleanup volunteers. Leaving aside a temporary surge in 2020 attributed to the COVID-19 pandemic, the results were spectacular.

Compared to the baseline years of 2013 through 2019, the volunteers collected 29 percent fewer bags in the 2022 and 2023 cleanup season, an achievement that the Ocean Conservancy directly attributes to new statewide legislation.

Volunteers with the Conservancy's International Coastal Cleanup track their collected debris on the organization’s Clean Swell app or by hand. The totals go into a database kept by the Conservancy.

“This database is the world’s largest repository of marine debris data and is used to inform scientists, conservation groups, governments, and industry leaders about ocean trash in support of plastic pollution prevention and advocacy efforts,” the Conservancy explained in its recent report.

The database contributed to new legislation in California and Florida in 2022, 2023, and 2024, covering balloon releases and foam products as well as plastic bags, the Conservancy reported. The data also informs the organization’s advocacy for an international plastic treaty.

[solarpunkbusiness]

Mycotech: The Indonesian Startup Biofabricating novel materials from mushrooms

Called Mycotech Lab, the company was inspired by tempeh, the traditional Indonesian food made from fermented soybeans, and came up with its own technology to grow its ethical and carbon-friendly mycelium-based materials. 

Mycotech Lab decided to experiment with the fermentation process used to make tempeh to make a new fabric out of the complex root structure of mushrooms, otherwise known as mycelium. It was a lengthy trial-and-error process that kicked off in 2016, but “finally, we found one mushroom with a mycelium that can be made into binding material,” said Erlambang Ajidarma, head of research at the startup, in conversation with Reuters. 

The final product, developed with fungus grown on sawdust that then gets scraped off and dried and cut into different sizes, is Mylea, a fibrous but tough material that acts just like the real thing. It’s waterproof, pliable, durable, and most importantly, is far more sustainable than existing plastic-based synthetic leathers or carbon-intensive real leather made from hide. 

Mycotech also uses natural dye extracted from roots, leaves and food waste in the region to colour their leather alternative, which again is a process that is far less polluting than traditional tanning processes used for real cowhide that leaves behind solid and liquid waste that contains chromium and other hazardous compounds.

Since its inception, Mycotech has managed to grow its client base with no marketing budget because the demand for sustainable alternatives has grown alongside awareness of the damaging effects of animal-based materials in the fashion industry. 

We the Fungi

Bio Binderless Board | Sustainable non-adhesive binder board from Mylea™ byproduct to meet modern architectural and design standards

Biodegradable Solid-Composite | Utilizing mushroom mycelium that grows and is shaped into desired form and utilities.   

[macmanx]

this beautiful skull

(molded from 3D print trimmings by artgoblin4life)

[rottenratman]

Im planning to make my madagascar hissing roach enclosure bioactive soon and im feeling like it needs to be sooner rather than later bc two of my males have been exiled to the glass of the enclosure and are looking very sorry for themselves hiding together around a single half cardboard tube...

[alpaca-clouds]

Solarpunk by the sea

Let me continue this little series on Solarpunk in different kinds of biomes and let me talk about the one biome that probably has the most people living by it: The ocean.

The ocean is a weird thing for us. While we cannot survive in it, we thrive if we have it close by. We cannot consume the salt water, of course, but we were always drawn to the ocean and fish, of course, have for many civilization been one of the biggest sources of food. Most people on this planet currently live somewhat close to a coastline of some sort.

While civilization might have started in those dank river valleys, many of the big civilization at some point needed access to the ocean. For the fish, but also to further advance. As the ocean allowed to move a lot of stuff rather quickly.

But... currently we are not doing well with the ocean, do we? There is a reason the whales are rebelling and shit.

We are currently overfishing the ocean, with the garbage from industrial fishing (like fishing nets) being a large part of the macroplastic in the oceans.

Meanwhile, the ocean like everything else, is also filled with microplastics - a bit part of which come from wheel abrasions from cars and the like.

And, of course, with the ocean warming, it can no longer hold oxygen and basically fishes die of in mass.

So, let's talk about it. How do we live with the ocean? How do humans best thrive near the ocean? And how do we protect this biome?

First of all: Industrial fishing has to go. People catching their own fish are fine. Even like Joe and his family catching fish for their little local fishmonger is fine. But industrial fishing that catches fish for this big international company that makes sure that everyone - no matter how far away from the coast they are living - has fish in their freezer... Yeah, we cannot have that. Not only because we overfish certain species of fish and endanger the whales, but also because through this we completely mess with food chains and eco systems, because - for example - the fish shitting is actually kinda important for the ocean.

So, yeah. No big fishing. If you live not close by an ocean, you will not get any ocean fish. Sorry.

Now, people living close to the ocean obviously face one big challenge: The ocean will often bring some sort of storm in relatively regular intervals. I will not go into the reasons of this (if you wanna see me geek out over meteorology, just say - I can do that). But of course everyone knows about all those Hurricanes that will strike the coastlines every year.

Different human cultures have adjusted differently to this. Basically there are two ways to go about it: Either you just accept that your house will be destroyed and build it in a way, that it will be easy to rebuild... Or you try to build a house that will wistand most storms with only minor damage.

This could be done by using sturdy materials - or by doing the other thing: Put your house on stilts. Which can be surprisingly effective, which is why we see it around the world.

Ideally you will not build the houses directly at the edge of the water. While it is fancy, duh, it also removes the saving land between you and the ocean.

Which also brings me to the sponge biomes, that often get ignored too often. Modern civilization often has destroyed those sponge areas, that usually would help take the swell of a storm surge. Those areas need to be recultured. Both to save them as biomes, as well as helping keeping us save from the floods.

When it comes to energy and renewables... Well, great news. The coastlines give us an endless amount of possibilities. Off-shore wind turbines work great. We probably will have soon enough proper tidal turbines, too. Maybe we will even figure out wave energy. And yes, you can put up photovoltaic panels.

Humans fear the ocean. Humans cannot survive in the ocean. But at the same time, we love the ocean and it has helped us to survive for so long.

[crevicedwelling]

how do you keep track of your isopod populations/genetics? do you have a spreadsheet or something detailing founding population makeup, current number of generations, parent colonies, etc? i'm just getting into keeping isopods myself (thanks to your blog) and i'm into the granular stuff like that but idk if i'm overthinking things!

it is, horribly, mostly stored in my head. I occasionally write things down and take a lot of photos but yeah it’s mostly memorized which can be inconvenient. a more organized system would probably be more efficient but no, cup with a slight crack in the lid, two pieces of vine bark and one piece of oak bark houses the wildtype F1 crosses of black-spotted-orange Porcellio scaber x wild normal, due for reculturing in 2 weeks and needs a piece of carrot tonight

[tenspontaneite]

Assembly (Chapter 4/?)

Through his communications systems, each line of text marches in, and he files it all silently into a new data pearl. A whole lexicon, he realises. Not much of one, barely enough vocabulary for basic conversations, but…a language. One that he truly, sincerely cannot bring himself to believe is any kind of joke. Suns would never joke about something like this.

Slowly, he lowers himself to the chamber floor, and closes his eyes.

 (Chapter length: 6.8k. Link to ao3 with workskin)

Warnings: Mentions of canonical character death (Hunter). In depth discussion of past cruel experimentation on sapient beings, and moral and emotional fallout of such.

---

Deep within the superstructure of Seven Red Suns, a new selfling begins to weave together. Its system-in-waiting, SRS-02, sits on the internal network and absorbs their updates gladly.

They’d been nonplussed, originally, to witness No Significant Harassment’s immediate enthusiasm to start making more platforms. Surely one was enough, to begin with? It needed to be tested extensively, or you might well be wasting resources on retrofitting something flawed. But then…

We cannot lose this, Suns thinks, half-connected to their two selflings, and calls to mind the painted hallway. Agreement flickers out across all three minds of their self, silent and steadfast. When SRS-01 leaves the superstructure to go questing, I must have a selfling here. I do not think I could bear to lose art when I have only just begun to find it.

There are the practical concerns as well, of course. Now that they’re decently well-conditioned, SRS-01 has been starting to look into the myriad maintenance issues compiling around the structure. Only for a few hours a day, but already, long-borne annoyances are being extinguished. A wire replacement here, anti-rust treatment there, a reculturing colony delivered to the fraying neural tissue in what seems like every other corner…it is palpably adding up. Suns cannot recall the last time their systems ran so well. And that’s only the start, isn’t it?

If Nish has his way, this will be the start of a grand renewal. There’s only so much they can do with their limited resources and limited hands, but…there is real promise, even so. Suns has been feeling uncommonly optimistic these past days; it’s a nice change.

One day they draw a lizard on their exterior wall with chalk, and they and Spearmaster take turns throwing spears at it. The extruded spines are a little small for Suns’ proportions, but they serve well enough; with the advantage of a machine’s rapid learning, they have grown adept with them very quickly. Spearmaster claps approvingly at a throw that reaches the false lizard’s eye, and they smile.

“…I will be ready to leave soon, I think,” they say to it, and watch it perk up. “Any more learning, I can do in the wild. Now I think I must start preparing for travel.”

“It is far to your friend’s body-home,” says Spearmaster, in the informed position of a small creature who has made that journey multiple times. “Not as far as to your angry friend. But, far. Many dangers.”

“Yes,” they agree, thinking already of how best to prepare. “I had best provision carefully.”

  [LIVE BROADCAST] PRIVATE Seven Red Suns, No Significant Harassment

SRS: I didn’t tell you about what my selfling experienced, that first outing.

NSH: What, the one that made you fry half your chamber when you synced again? No, you haven’t. I’ve been deathly curious too~

SRS: And yet you didn’t ask. How unlike you.

NSH: I can, sometimes, have tact and sensitivity!

SRS: Hah. I suppose we really have changed over the years, haven’t we?

SRS: …I suppose the most important thing to say is that I confirmed my suspicions. My messenger is a person, and always has been.

NSH: Well now.

NSH: That’s truly something. Fully sapient? You’re sure?

SRS: It makes art. It named itself. ‘Spearmaster’. It never told me – I had to ask.

SRS: It kept these thoughts quiet because it was worried I would disapprove of its sapience. That I only wanted it to be a pet, and not a person.

NSH: …Ouch. I can only imagine how that felt for you.

SRS: It was hard to come to terms with, yes. And given what we’d been speaking about that day already…when my selfling came home with those new memories, it hit very hard.

NSH: Hence your damages. And the new integration protocols.

NSH: …Are you alright, Seven Red Suns? You’ve not mentioned any of this for days.

SRS: My damages are repaired, and my tissues healing.

NSH: You know that’s not what I meant.

SRS: I can’t say I’ve come to terms with it yet, no. Not with how much harm I caused an innocent person, with how I shaped it and treated it like an animal. Perhaps I never will come to terms with it.

NSH: Well that’s depressing.

SRS: Can you blame me?

NSH: No, I suppose not.

NSH: …

NSH: Do you know, yet? If it’s just your messenger that’s like that. Or…

SRS: Or all of them?

NSH: Yes.

SRS: I very strongly suspect that the species as a whole is sapient.

NSH: …I see.

SRS: I can’t say I have overwhelming evidence for it. But based on things I’ve heard from Spearmaster…it seems very, very likely.

NSH: I

NSH: Let me know, if you get that evidence. Before that, I

NSH: I don’t know if I can

NSH: …

SRS: It’s alright. I understand. This is…not easy.

SRS: I’ll keep you appraised.

 Within the thoracic compartment of SRS-01, alongside the thinking system within, they pile in as many neurons as will fit. While they are there, the things provide a processing boost to the selfling body; a convenient side effect, if not the actual objective.

Within the spires of Septkai, they source a large traveller’s backpack, of the sorts that the pilgrims once used, making arduous treks through the surface world to visit the holy sites by foot. The effort, they said, made the pilgrimage more profound. In learning the limits of the body, in cultivating their karma against it, they would learn a great deal. Suns cannot speak to the accuracy of that, but the travel packs are a good design, though the material has degraded to uselessness over time. They scan it thoroughly, then return home to their can.

Within the stretches of their bioengineering suite, they do something a little different. It is strange, to take mechanisms made for producing living things, and instead use them to produce various lifeless biological structures. Thick skin as from the hardiest lizards, delicately dappled with the pattern of scales; sturdy hide as what protects the rain deer; chitinous armour plating alike that which the centipedes wear; delicate silks as woven by the Citadel’s ineradicable spiders. They print out samples and test them, tweaking each to their liking.

It is surprisingly easy, to create clothing this way. They have no need of seams as the material is shaped with intent from the molecular level up, the colour is easily customised, and the second they dislike the way a pattern turned out, they can simply throw it in the vats for recycling and try again. Under Spearmaster’s curious gaze, they try out design after design, playing with colour and shape in ways that are unexpectedly delightful. Any fastenings, buttons, and other such details have to be printed out in keratin or bone, then added by hand.

That last detail, the addition of those parts, is the only thing that they could not have done before the advent of their first selfling.

I should have tried this a long time ago, they think, watching a delicate cloak spool together within its bay, each filament carefully coated with biologically-derived dyes. It is a kind of art, itself. Hadn’t the making of clothing and jewellery been among the chiefest of the People’s arts? And Suns could have been doing it for centuries, had they only tried.

They doubt it even as they think it, though. To create such things, with no hands to feel it, no body to wear it…it would’ve felt pointless. And besides, with no hands to move any of it out into the superstructure, it would only have accumulated in piles to clog the bioengineering chambers.

I could have produced tapestries, though, they think sourly to themself. Banners, wall hangings. The patterns and colours are interesting enough that it would have occupied me, especially if I slowed my processing down. I could have been doing something I loved, all this time. I’m sure Spearmaster would have been happy to move them for me.

With the slightest of degrees of mental separation from their greater self, their AMP prods their thoughts along a new track:

Maybe so. Maybe they could have had this a long time ago, if only they’d thought of it. But it is pointless to ruminate upon now. Better to simply move forward, however much they can.

Yes. I suppose so, they think together, and settle in to work.

 [LIVE BROADCAST] PRIVATE Seven Red Suns, No Significant Harassment

NSH: Vulture AMP simulations are going well! Not much left to do before the first testing phase.

SRS: Good for you. I think.

NSH: I did end up having to plan for further iterator genome modifications, though, or it just won’t integrate with the AOS. Might need to get you to tweak my cells again.

SRS: In that case, I think it’ll have to wait for your selfling to visit me and oversee the process. It sounds complex enough I’m wary of making those modifications without guidance.

NSH: That’s for the best anyway~

NSH: Gives me another excuse to come and visit you!

 They make a little poncho for Spearmaster, patterned and coloured just how it asks: a light lavender grey, with detailing in pale yellow like Suns’ chassis. It puts the garment on and then prances around in it for hours with glee.

They make a carrying pouch, long and narrow and sturdy, modelled after the quivers ancient People had once used for arrows or crossbow bolts. Suns considers it narrowly, wondering if it would be worthwhile to try to manufacture actual ranged weaponry, but eventually gives it up. Replenishing ammunition during long journeys would be difficult, with the world in its current state. Better to go on with what they intended: they speak to Spearmaster, and in short order fill the quiver with extruded spines. A ready supply, if they need to fight.

They produce dozens of different designs of travel clothing, trying each in turn to see how it works. Cloaks, scarves, ponchos, even chitinous plates of armour, just to try it all. It is difficult to settle on any one design.

“Superfluous, I think,” they say of the armour, inspecting how it sits over their chassis. “At least the full set. It’s cumbersome, and not quite worth it when I am already made of metal.”

“Looks impressive, though,” Spearmaster points out, and they laugh.

“Yes, I suppose so. Still, I won’t travel in it. Now, what next…?”

The final choice, in the end, is not as elaborate as some of the designs Suns has favoured. While they enjoy all of their new outfits, most are simply impractical for travel. This one is simple: a basic shirt and pair of half-trousers, both chassis-tight, and then a nice loose poncho over the top in a gradient of red and orange. It’s still a little plain for their tastes, but they can probably add some jewellery later to satisfy their aesthetics. Most importantly, though: it’s decently practical for travel.

It is also sort of alive.

“Smells strange,” Spearmaster says, a little suspicious, sniffing at one trailing fabric edge as if concerned that it might suddenly pounce. “Like a creature? But not. Simple.” It slaps its tail on the floor, dissatisfied with the words. “Like the simple creatures inside you. Same-like. Like the skin on your selfling?”

“It is very similar,” they allow, and stroke the new material with pleasure. “A simple purposed organism. In theory, when it’s dirty, I should be able to activate a mode where it slowly dissolves and consumes particles that are touching it. In theory. We will see if that holds up to testing. And, also…” Concentrating, they reach out to the passive, mindless organism that is the clothing. It’s nothing as effortless as controlling their own skin, but… “Ah, there we go,” they say, pleased, as the fabric slowly and sluggishly changes colour. Not much, though. It darkens but not all the way to black, and only tints slightly red, instead of going fully the colours they intended.

“Supposed to go darker?” The slugcat inquires, and they shrug.

“It would’ve been nice. Better for aposematic display, hm? But it seems I don’t have the trick of making purposed organism clothing that can change colours fully, yet. Something to work on.” They pat their own side, content. “This will do just fine. Now, to more practical concerns…”

They fit the strap for their spear quiver. They construct the bag they intend to carry with them, and test the fit of that too. Then there is only to consider what to bring along.

Neurons, yes. Pearls, full of data…yes, but what to prioritise? Gifts aside, there have to be practical datasets to bring too.

 [LIVE BROADCAST] PRIVATE Seven Red Suns, No Significant Harassment

SRS: I’m starting to pack in preparation to leave.

NSH: Oho, that’s exciting. You think you’re ready?

SRS: As much as I can be. The journey will take a while, anyway, and I’ll have Spearmaster with me. Better to set off sooner rather than later.

SRS: I’ve prepared my clothing, bag and so on, and packed a few obvious things, like the neurons.

NSH: And gifts?

SRS: …Yes. And gifts.

SRS: I’m still uncertain which datasets to prioritise though. Do you have any suggestions?

NSH: Hmm. Things that would be practical while travelling, I suppose? Blueprints on various flora and fauna, old maps and the like. Waypoint and navigation data from your overseers.

NSH: I’d recommend taking iterator schematics and such, but honestly I’ve already got that covered, so no need.

NSH: …Ask your Spearmaster, perhaps. It might know if there’s something you need.

SRS: Now that’s an idea.

NSH: Glad to help~

In fact, what Suns had thought of was this: Spearmaster could communicate with other slugcats, and they clearly had a language. If they are to embark on a journey across the surface, then knowing how to speak to – or at least understand – members of a sapient species along the way…that’s valuable information, for certain.

And, too, it would be unquestionable evidence for No Significant Harassment. That, they think, needs to happen sooner rather than later.

They call Spearmaster over to their puppet chamber, ready and keen to learn whatever it has to offer. “We will be leaving very soon now,” they say, and its ears prick up with alert.

“We will?” It signs, interested, then narrows its eyes. “Not you, though. This you. You cannot leave the room.”

Suns blinks their puppet’s eyes, and agrees “Yes, I meant my selfling. The one that is already finished, at any rate. I think we should leave after the second one is finished and confirmed operational, which will not be long.”

“You are not waiting for the selfling of your friend to arrive, first?”

“No, it would take too long. He’ll visit me afterwards.”

In response to that, their creation draws itself up and – does that thing where it seems it wants to hiss, but can only produce a displeased puff of air through its nose. “How long until he comes?”

“I’m not sure. Weeks, perhaps.”

“You will be alone.” Spearmaster’s signs cut through the air. “Only you, and you. Alone in here.” Its ears flatten back.

“…I will still be able to speak with No Significant Harassment, as usual? Even before his selfling comes?” They say, cautious.

“But you will be lonely,” it says, now visibly agitated. “You always are, when I leave for some days. This time I will be with you, but only one part. The you here, in the body-home – you will be alone again. I said before, ‘I will stay with you’!”

“You will stay with me,” they attempt, bewildered. “Only it will be my selfling – my mobile platform. I will be fine here, I assure you. I lived for a very long time before I created you, you know. A few weeks is nothing to the long life I’ve led.”

Displeased, Spearmaster huffs through its nose. “I do not like it.”

“…Are you worried about me, Spearmaster?” They ask, slowly, and it stares at them.

“Obvious, yes.”

That’s…quite touching, honestly. It makes Suns want to scoop the creature up and hug it, but that would impede its ability to communicate. Most unfortunate. “That’s…very sweet of you, but I promise I will be fine,” they reassure it, reaching out to stroke it between its ears. “Having you along with my selfling will be more important, I think. I still have a great deal to learn from you, and you’re the one who has been out there before.”

Grumpily, it seems to concede that point, and settles just a little. “Have to protect you,” it agrees. “Never been out in living wilds. Dangerous.”

“Yes, I was actually meaning to talk to you about that.” They wait for Spearmaster to tilt its head expectantly before they continue. “I…was hoping you could tell me about the others of your kind. What they’re like – how they live.” They hesitate. “The language they use. You seem to know some of it, yes?”

Spearmaster stares, then inclines its head in a very Person-like nod – only one of many behaviours it has picked up, growing up here. Do those gestures alienate it among its kind? How accepting are they of a slugcat as strange as Spearmaster was made to be? “Yes, I know some,” it confirms. “Not very much. It is…hard to learn, for me. I think I did not start to learn soon enough. Other wanderers, who do not meet others before they are grown – they find it hard to learn, too.”

“It was like that for the People, I recall,” Suns muses, interested. “They did not learn new languages very well, once they were no longer children.”

“Like this, yes,” Spearmaster agrees, then hesitates. “You cannot speak the language, I think. You do not have a tail. But I will show to you, the words I know.”

And so it does.

The name of the language roughly translates to ‘Movespeak’. It is a body-based language, like the sign language that Suns taught Spearmaster, but utilising the entire body, head to tail. Slugcats in the surface wilds apparently vocalise primarily for emotional expression and signalling, so even without a mouth or voice, Spearmaster can speak the language perfectly well.

It demonstrates every word it can think of. When it runs out, Suns asks it to demonstrate the language in use, and they have several conversations to help draw out the particulars: grammar, expressiveness, more vocabulary. In the end, Spearmaster really doesn’t have that much. With its help, Suns compiles a lexicon of 842 Movespeak words, with accompanying knowledge of how to use and understand it.

As language always is, it is…revealing.

…It’s evidence, unquestionably, for the sapience of the species. Even if they’d been pretending that Spearmaster was an exception, there’s no ignoring this. Not unless you were desperate enough to believe that one iterator’s purposed organism had come up with a decent chunk of a conlang in its spare time, with all the alien cultural concepts to go with it.

I must send this to Sig now, they think, with a sinking feeling. And I don’t think it will go well.

 [LIVE BROADCAST] PRIVATE Seven Red Suns, No Significant Harassment

SRS: If you have any breathing room around your simulations…

SRS: There’s something I need to share with you.

NSH: Oh well. That sounds ominous.

SRS: It’s fascinating, actually. There’s just…

SRS: …

SRS: I had better just send it. Please brace for a long message.

[850 lines of text; title “Sample of words that exist in Slugcat language, otherwise known as ‘Movespeak’”]

 In the heart of a superstructure quite a way southwest, No Significant Harassment’s puppet pauses in the air.

Through his communications systems, each line of text marches in, and he files it all silently into a new data pearl, compiling it as it comes. A whole lexicon, he realises. Not much of one, barely enough vocabulary for basic conversations, but…a language. One that he truly, sincerely cannot bring himself to believe is any kind of joke. Suns would never joke about something like this.

Slowly, he lowers himself to the chamber floor, and closes his eyes.

Far below, at one of the exterior walls of his structure, his massive bioengineering bays hum quietly along. By his standards, they are astonishingly empty. All that lies active: one accelerated growth vat, with the foetal form of a light pink slugcat growing within.

 [LIVE BROADCAST] PRIVATE Seven Red Suns, No Significant Harassment

NSH: This…

SRS: I’d send you the proper lexicon, but given it’s a body-based language, I’d need to create text-based images to demonstrate every single word like this. I’ll copy the file across when we can meet in person, though.

NSH: ….

NSH: So even the wild ones are this advanced, then.

SRS: It certainly seems so.

SRS: Even knowing that Spearmaster described their naming conventions to me, and things they’d said to it…it was hard to fully believe until I got it to act out all the vocabulary it knew.

SRS: It says it isn’t very fluent in the language. Enough for mutual understanding, but not much complexity. So there’s certainly a lot more to the language than what I sent to you.

NSH: That’s…horrifying, thank you.

NSH: …

SRS: Are you alright?

NSH: Please, for a second, consider how many of these creatures I’ve engineered.

SRS: …Yes. I know.

SRS: I’m sorry.

NSH: For what? Are you apologising for my own atrocities now?

NSH: Look at this list. They have a word for diplomacy. They have a word for a place where they teach each other and tell stories.

NSH: They have a word for karma, and echoes. They even have a word for the void sea! Based on this list, I half think that some of them might have figured out how to ascend!

SRS: …I know.

NSH: They have art, language, culture – maybe even ascension. And I’ve been experimenting on them for decades.

NSH: …What am I supposed to do with this?

SRS: I don’t know.

 In the facility below, the three mis-made offshoots of Sig’s personality are sharing their own selfling body. For lack of biological resources to spare, they are co-piloting for now, a manoeuvre that took some speedy coding and clever new drivers to manage. Two of them quite like living this way; the third is anxious for their own body.

All three of them notice the disturbance shivering through the superstructure.

That felt important, thinks Trivial Botheration, broadcast in the in-between mind-space that the three of them share. What’s going on?

Very Significant Divergence reaches out the body’s hand to the wall, feeling it thrum beneath their artificial skin. The mindwall security system their parent-self had developed is very important here – without that, they all three might have been swept away already, too much a part of the network to keep their senses of self intact. Something’s wrong, I think.

Like damage? Has something broken? Botheration prods at their sense of wireless connectivity anxiously, wanting to check in. The other two hesitate for a moment, then agree. They open connection, just barely enough to transmit and receive data through the heavy mindwalls.

The emotion that is shuddering through every cell and process of No Significant Harassment is…beyond describing.

What happened? Healthy Attachment Behaviour thinks, utterly shocked. Did someone die? Did something happen to Suns?

The thought isn’t comfortable for any of them. No matter what actions they’ve taken to diverge from their parent, it’s hard not to inherit some of the attachment.

I don’t like this. Should we go to his chamber? Find out what’s going on?

Negation, from two sources, one more hesitant than the other. Divergence is firm: No, this is acute. Whatever’s happening, the input is still ongoing. Wait for the news or data or whatever to finish first.

Trivial Botheration wavers about it, then deliberately connects to the superstructure maintenance logs, just to make sure there’s not some ongoing physical crisis, like a fatal dysfunction in a sector somewhere. There’s nothing, though. It’s all clear except for the symptoms of major emotional disturbance. Yes, alright. We’ll wait.

He might want us for moral support, or something, once this finishes, Hab agrees, and as a triad they collectively force themselves to relax. They won’t do Sig any favours by tangling themselves up.

Still. It’s very hard to sit and do nothing.

 [LIVE BROADCAST] PRIVATE Seven Red Suns, No Significant Harassment

NSH: I treated them like animals. I thought they were interesting subjects. They’re social, intelligent enough for tool use, take well to training…

NSH: …

NSH: Of course they do. They took well to training because they were people. Little freshly-grown people, who never even had the chance to learn language besides what I shoved into their skulls with the mark of communication.

NSH: I have one growing right now! It’s in me, right this second! Developing in a small organisms cloning vat, completely according to model.

NSH: Just a copy of a creature I’ve used and discarded over and over again.

NSH: A perfect little purpose-grown hunter.

SRS: I’m sorry.

NSH: I might as well have cloned Person neonates and raised them as slaves.

SRS: …Your hunters could have chosen to never come back to your can, if they were unhappy with you.

NSH: Perhaps in theory.

NSH: I was their parent, Suns. I created them and told them what their purpose was, and I was the only familiar being they knew. Their choice was between me, and living out on the surface for good.

NSH: What would you have chosen, in that situation?

SRS: …

NSH: And that’s to say nothing of the last hunter. The one I sent to Moon.

NSH: That poor creature hardly even had any time with me at all. Hardly any time alive at all.

NSH: I put the rot in it. One of the cruellest deaths imaginable, and I put it into a person because I thought it would be a good motivator.

NSH: I put it out into the Cycle like that. Can you even imagine?

SRS: Sig.

NSH: What, are you going to tell me it’s not that bad? That it’s okay because I didn’t know they were people?

NSH: You know that’s not an excuse.

SRS: It’s not, you’re right. It is that bad and it’s not okay at all. I’m not going to tell you otherwise for the sake of your feelings.

NSH: …

NSH: Hah. There’s the old Suns. You never were afraid to tell people when they were being stupid, were you?

SRS: I could’ve stood to be more afraid, to be honest.

SRS: Sig. Listen. I knew this would hit you hard. I also knew that you needed to know.

SRS: The ones you’ve wronged are past forgiving you for what you did to them. But, as one failure of a parent to another…

SRS: I do understand a little of how it feels.

NSH: And what does your Spearmaster think of all of this?

SRS: …Give me a moment.

SRS: …

SRS: Do you want to speak to it? I can translate.

NSH: I

NSH: I don’t know if I can.

SRS: That’s alright. I’ll pass along a few things instead. I think it’s been thinking about this sort of thing for a while.

SRS: This may take some time, so please bear with me.

 “I’d like your opinion on something serious, Spearmaster,” Seven Red Suns says, opening their eyes for the first time in many minutes. The slugcat’s eyes turn towards them, blinking with concern, and it slides out of their lap in preparation to speak. “Something…very sad. It will likely upset you.”

“Something happened?” It settles on the floor of the chamber, waiting anxiously.

“No Significant Harassment, like me, has created slugcats before. Were you aware?”

Spearmaster nods. “I never met one. But, I know.”

“Well…like me, he didn’t know that they were people. He never knew that your kind have minds. And he made a lot more of them than I ever have. One of them, grown shortly before Moon collapsed…he made it sick, on purpose.” They avert their eyes, not quite wanting to see how it reacts. “A terrible rot inside, that would eventually kill it. He didn’t do it for malicious reasons, but he did it anyway.”

When at last they look back, Spearmaster’s ears are flattened to its skull, and its tail stiff. “That is horrible,” it says, the motions jerky and strained. “Cruel.”

Seven Red Suns flinches, but what can they say? It’s the truth. “Yes. It was very cruel. And now I have told him that you are all people…and he understands what a terrible thing he has done, long past a time when he can do anything to fix it. That poor sick creature must be long dead by now.”

Their own creation seems like it can barely stand to think of it. It gets up and paces around, full of agitation with nowhere to go. Its throat vibrates like it’s trying to cry out, a keen that it has no voice to utter. “Horrible,” it says, in a brief pause before it starts circling again. “Horrible. Horrible.”

Social, Suns thinks, bitterly. They are such social creatures. Such empathy, for a slugcat it has never met. And we do this to them. “Yes. It is.”

Suddenly, with shocking and violent speed, Spearmaster whirls towards them. Its back is bristling with bumps and spines, tail extruding barbs of white just by virtue of sheer agitation. “What does he say?” It demands, more fierce than Suns has ever seen. “Is he sorry? Does he care that he did a horrible thing?”

“…He cares very much, yes,” Suns says, and sees those spines flatten slightly. It watches them, tense and waiting, clearly not satisfied with that paltry assurance. “He is…very, very upset. More upset than I’ve seen him since our friend Moon collapsed and broke. He knows he has done something terrible, and doesn’t know how he can ever make up for it.”

“He cannot,” Spearmaster says, its signs sharp and brutal. “The creature he wronged is dead. It can never forgive him as I forgave you for what you did wrong to me.”

For a moment, the senseless deeply-held reflexes from their genetic source make them feel – breathless. Shocked, like they’re unable to draw air. But of course they are an iterator, and all the air they need to function is inside them. “…Why in the world would you forgive me at all?”

It stares at him, the usual affection of its gaze washed clear by the horror of what it has learned. “You have been good to me, as much as you could be,” it says. “When you learned that I had a mind, you said you were sorry. That is all I needed, for me. For my peace.” It shakes its head violently and slaps its tail on the floor. “Your friend’s creature – he was not good to it. He can never tell it he is sorry.” It stops at that, considering its own words, eyes narrowed. “…He is sorry? Ashamed, hurting?”

“Very much so,” they agree, still shaken by their own absolution.

“Good,” it says, without a hint of sympathy or remorse. “It will teach him to be careful, next time he is cruel to a creature that does not deserve it. Your kind need more teaching, to be careful.” It rubs the scar on its breast, as though it still aches.

…Yes. Suns will need to have words with Pebbles about that, one of these days. “I agree with you, entirely,” they say softly, and the admission seems to soothe it a little. “We have grown complacent, assured of our position as the most intelligent beings left in the world. It makes us short-sighted.” They hesitate. “Would you be willing to tell your thoughts on this to him?”

It startles. “To your friend? Who harmed his creature?”

“Yes. He asked after you, actually. Wanted to know what you think about what he has done.” They hesitate, then go on. “The raising of many of your kind, treating them like animals all their lives. He made them to hunt for him, and they did, going out and coming back all their lives in his service. And then there was the last one, who he put the rot into.” They sigh, and divert a scrap of attention to the pending chat, where Sig is still waiting. What must he be thinking, over there in his can?

The beginnings of a snarl draw tight lines along the creature’s narrow face. “Why does he want me to speak to him?”

Seven Red Suns considers their words very carefully. “You are the best person in this situation to say something, I think. You are a creature created by an iterator who thought you an animal, and did not treat you well. You are possibly the only one left who can judge him properly now.”

It does not speak for a long, long moment. Eyes narrow, face wrinkled with anger, it ruminates. Finally it says, “I could tell him he is cruel. I could say, what you have done is horrible, and it will stain you forever. ‘You will never make this wrong right. You can never be forgiven.’ I could tell him this, and it would cause him pain. Yes?”

Suns feels the fans in their puppet hum into agitated overdrive, letting loose a rare whir of noise into the air. They don’t want to see what those words would do to their friend. They want, in a brief desperate rush, to retract the offer, and not pass anything along at all.

Instead, they close their eyes, just for a moment. They say, “Yes. It would hurt him a great deal.”

Their creation thinks, and thinks, and thinks. Finally, unhappy but resolute, it comes to a decision. “He does not need to be hurt,” it signs. “What he needs, is to change.”

 [LIVE BROADCAST] PRIVATE Seven Red Suns, No Significant Harassment

SRS: …

SRS: Apologies for the wait. I had to explain the context.

SRS: It has something to say to you. It’s quite long.

NSH: Go on.

SRS: It says, “If you are like my maker, you have very big thoughts. A very big mind. You have spent a long time like this, and so you forget how to see small things properly. I think this is how Sun did not see that I had a mind, even when I was speaking to them. They were too big, and not looking closely. Your kind are all too used to being big, and looking at smaller creatures like they are nothing. It makes you cruel.”

SRS: “I don’t know how your children felt about you. I did not meet them. Sun tells me they went out for you and came back, like me. Lots of times. Except for the last one. This is because they loved you. Sun did not know I had a mind, but I loved them anyway. Maybe it was the same for yours.”

SRS: “It is sad that they lived as your creatures, you never knowing they had minds. But it is not a cruelty. We are strong creatures, and clever. We can find friends in the wild and live well. If your hunters did not love you enough to return, they would have left. Be sad, and have regrets, but this is not a thing for guilt. They are people. They made their choices.”

SRS: “What you did to the last one, that is a thing for guilt. You should be guilty. It was not a good thing to do. It was cruel and you did not need to do it. But do not sit in your body-home and feel useless shame. It is good for nothing. You cannot change what you did to your creature. What you can do is change you. Sun says you have another child growing. I say, you must do better now.”

SRS: “Let it be a child first, if it is not too late. I was never a child, and I think it was bad for my mind. Be a good maker to it. Teach it to speak, and see what it says to you. Be good to it. I think that is the only thing you can do to make better your mistake.”

SRS: …That’s everything.

NSH: That’s everything, is it?

NSH: …

NSH: Tell it thank you, from me.

SRS: It says it is satisfied to give you its thoughts.

NSH: You know, I never thought I’d be getting ethical advice from the heavily bioengineered descendant of a pipe cleaner.

SRS: …

NSH: I know, I know, not really the time for a joke.

NSH: …What did it mean, about never being a child?

SRS: We decant them half grown or more, as standard procedure.

SRS: I’ve been speaking with Spearmaster these past days, and it says it has difficulty communicating with others of its kind. It did not learn their language young enough, and now struggles with it. It has issues understanding and reading their social cues, too.

NSH: Oh, saints drowning. Like a Person who grew up isolated from other People. Stunted social development? Neurological?

SRS: Something like that, yes.

SRS: Just another thing to regret.

NSH: …The current hunter is still prenatal. I’ve never decanted one as a pup before, but I’m fairly certain when I should, if I want it to emerge a neonate. But I’m not sure what their needs are, that young.

SRS: One moment.

SRS: Spearmaster hasn’t encountered newborn pups before, but has found slightly older pups orphaned once, years ago. Apparently they can eat whatever the adults do, but nothing too large. They like to be carried and tossed around. They watch you very closely to learn from you.

NSH: Right. Right, okay. I’ll…keep that in mind.

NSH: …What happened to the pups it found?

SRS: It gave them to a colony.

SRS: …It was afraid I wouldn’t take it well, if it brought them home.

NSH: Oh, Suns.

SRS: I will admit, it’s more than a little heartbreaking.

SRS: It won’t tell me if it got attached to them. That says enough on its own. I…

SRS: I don’t know what to do about this.

NSH: …Take its advice to me, I suppose. Just do better from now on.

NSH: Have you told it it’s allowed to bring children back, if it wants?

SRS: Of course.

NSH: There you go, then.

NSH: …Void take us, Suns. I don’t know how to do this. I wouldn’t know how to raise a Person hatchling, let alone a pup of a species I didn’t truly think was sapient until today. But I’m going to have to figure it out, aren’t I?

SRS: At the risk of sounding insensitive…I think there’s quite a lot of literature archived from the People on the topic of unanticipated parenthood.

NSH: Ha! If there’s anything in your memory banks about raising slugcat pups, let me know, will you?

SRS: No luck there, I’m afraid.

SRS: …We could try to find some, though.

NSH: What? Slugpup parenting literature?

SRS: No, parent slugcats.

NSH: …

SRS: Spearmaster knows enough of their language to get useful information. When we travel to your can, we can keep an eye out, and then when the three of us head off to Moon and Pebbles’ complex, we can search there too. Pass information back with an overseer and you’re done.

SRS: Unless the pup has to come out soon?

NSH: No, no, it will be a while yet. And I can slow down the accelerated ageing, even so. I probably should. Who knows what that does to the neurological development of a sapient creature, even a foetal one?

SRS: Yes, probably for the best. So you have some time to figure out how to be a parent, at least.

NSH: An iterator as a parent to an organic being. What has the world come to, Suns? This is all so…ugh.

SRS: It makes me wonder if any others out there, isolated off in their own little pockets, have found out about any of this.

NSH: Maybe there’s thriving local groups of iterator slugcat parents out in the world somewhere. Maybe they have little slug colonies and teach them about science.

SRS: …

SRS: …You know, Moon would probably love that idea.

NSH:

NSH: She really did like those little things, didn’t she.

NSH: I wonder if she still does. I wonder what she’d think of me now.

SRS: She’ll be happy to see you. I’m certain of it.

NSH: I hope so. I really hope so.

 A small creature steps outside.

In the humid mist of early morning, with Suns’ rain still drizzling, Spearmaster slips down the side of their creator’s body-self and goes questing across the surface. It has a task, though self-appointed, and it fully intends to carry it out.

Below, the land is well known to it. For all that it can feed perfectly well from the meat tanks at home, this does not quite satisfy; it descends to hunt better prey fairly often, then feeds the bodies to Suns’ legs. In this manner, it has grown familiar with the regions within the retaining walls. Not quite its territory, but familiar nonetheless.

The rains stop, and the skies clear. In the wet aftermath, all the vegetation comes alive again, unfurling from the earth and spreading stalk and flower and leaf back into the air. Spearmaster smells it all with pleasure. One grows weary of the scent of dust and metal, after long enough.

The scent they are here to search for, though, will be harder to find.

It checks each of the likely places: by the popcorn plants, along the mudfish river, and all the other best places for a normal creature to find food. They kill and drain a lizard along the way, and for all that they are much older than they once were, it is still easy. They carry on.

The day is half gone before they catch the scent; another slugcat has passed by, and recently.

Their ears perk up, and they press forwards. Perhaps, if they are lucky, they can find her before the rains come.

It wouldn’t do, to make Suns worry.

  x

---

 Yeah so that’s a more depressing chapter. Had to be done, though.

Please note: Hunter is dead as in canon. She ascended. There will be no miracle curing her of the rot, simply because I find the emotional fallout of this option more interesting to explore. The closest thing remaining to Hunter in this story is the prenatal pup currently growing in a tube, who is an exact genetic match but without the bonus cancer.

Sig’s three pseudo-children are as follows: Very Significant Divergence (Divergence), Healthy Attachment Behaviour (Hab), and Trivial Botheration (Triv/Botheration). Their gender identities are still very much in flux and their pronouns changing constantly. Each of them are taking different measures to diverge from NSH, because otherwise their lives would be very uncomfortable. At present they’re sharing a body, which TB and HAB are having a great time with. VSD not so much.

Meanwhile, Suns is probably angling to become the fashion guru of the local group. Good for them!!

 Art of the outfit Suns decides on this chapter, with bonus jewellery:

 https://tenspontaneite.tumblr.com/post/719412808752807936/two-different-colours-of-my-first-srs-outfit-im

Fun note: as of yesterday I have now written 50k of Assembly since 20th of May, which means I’m like a week+ ahead of a nanowrimo basically. Quite pleased with that ngl.

Rating on ao3 is going up. Check the ao3 version’s end notes for details on that.

Please tell me what you liked! Keeping the hyperfocus going is hard work, and every comment is massively helpful, in tags or otherwise <3 also I love stats on my stories. likes or kudos or bookmarks. number go up make brain go brr

[monsooninn]

Berakhot 10a:3. "The Fries."

We are running a race with no finish line, so the Mishnah says. Why is this? Because every newborn will have to be reculturated and even if we started now, we would still need to deal with billions of traumatized persons who are going to raise twice as many children in impoverished, filthy, inappropriate conditions. I stress if we started now, which we have not.

So life is a race track with cars and horses and athletes running around it but we can't tell where in the race they are, so we don't know upon whom to bet. The Gemara says "so speed up."

This means the Emperor of Israel has to legislate the duration of the race and qualify the contenders. There is but one flaw in this plan. The world will not pause. As the Mishnah says it will have to Shafil the Sepia, "overthrow the putrid snake that is feeding off of us."

Snakes are we know represented the cycle of birth and rebirth, but our snake is consuming itself and us along with it, this is a choice not a fate. It was certainly not supposed to be our destiny. Once again, I can't believe you didn't want to prosecute those wicked, wicked worthless men and put your guns down. I am incredulous:

3. And again, Shafil to the sepia called "And wicked ones are no more", because "sinners will be cleansed" "And wicked ones are no more"? But in the midst of the mercy of God, they were filled with the answer, "And the wicked are no more."

The Value in Gematria is 9705, ץזאֶפֶס‎ה, tzapessa, "fries." = "Turning poisonous things into viable things using the power of the printed word."

"Humans have lived in cities long before they began to farm, and scholars have always wondered why. The answer, it slowly begins to seem, was in order to form academia, again for the sheer fun of it. Infectious killers such as flue, measles and pox came from domesticated animals and didn't exist in the pre-farm world.

Animals such as cats, dogs and even oxen and pigs were pets (for fun) long before they were put to work. And when citizens finally took up large-scale farming, they could do so because they had derived genetically modified plants from inedible wild ones.

Next time you eat a sandwich, stop for a moment to realize that making bread is far greater a technological achievement than inventing the printing press. And in addition: printing was simple and the desired result obvious, but how the ancients even began to have the idea to breed comestible staples from severely poisonous wild potatoes or stringy wisps of wild maize is as much a mystery as the how's and why's surrounding the Giza Plateau.

But the obvious is true: our Neolithic ancestors weren't filthy beasts or superstitious morons, but folks who understood the biosphere to the point at which they knew that there were fries in venomous bulbs and popcorn in bitter grass, and knew how to get them out. They were intimately familiar with the nature of the cosmos, and incorporated vastly complex mathematics into their 'crude' Neolithic constructions."

Mankind is a poisonous potato unless you know what to do with it. Some of us do, some of us do not, like the eyes on a potato. that's not good enough. We know there is a human race within the chaos that is rampant on this world. So why is everything still a gigantic shit show? Why is this still happening? Why have we decided not to stop pummeling the poor and the homeless and helpess and do what the scripture says and manage from the bottom of society up? That is where the Son of Man is found, that is where all the wealth will come from.

So why have not ended the end times? Someone owes the human race an explanation for this.

[callmestarshine-43]

I have internet again, so, I'm back! Besides, TikTok will probably be banned so I have to reculture my dashboard for news.

[cognitivejustice]

Restoring Indigenous aquaculture heals both ecosystems and communities in Hawai‘i

For generations, native Hawaiians have understood that their aquaculture systems, fishponds known as loko i‘a, serve as nurseries that seed fish populations in surrounding waters. For the first time, a team of scientists from the Hawaiʻi Institute of Marine Biology (HIMB) have modeled this feat of Indigenous science in a study.

“We are using science to translate ‘ike kupuna, or Indigenous knowledge, into policy,” said study co-author Kawika Winter, an ecologist at HIMB and He‘eia National Estuarine Research Reserve (NERR).

“The value of this paper is that it’s one of the first, if not the first, to really show that there are ways to do aquaculture in ways that benefit the system around it.”

In partnership with He‘eia NERR and Paepae o He‘eia, a nonprofit organization dedicated to stewarding the He‘eia loko i‘a, an ancient Hawaiian fishpond enclosing 36 hectares (88 acres) of brackish water, the team simulated different restoration scenarios in Kāne‘ohe Bay on O‘ahu Island based on a simplified food web. The study found that restoring more of the bay into fully functional loko iʻa would grow fish populations not just within the ponds, but across the bay.

“Aquaculture has a really bad reputation for basically destroying areas around it, but those are commercial approaches to aquaculture that aren’t holistic in their thinking or values-based like Indigenous management,” Winter said. “Rather than ensuring the health of the system, commercial aquaculture is concerned with maximizing profits.”

Winter attributed the success of the loko i’a design to Indigenous thought processes: “Indigenous thinking is operating within the opportunities and constraints of this system and figuring out a way to make things abundant within that context, sometimes even increasing abundance beyond natural levels.

Restoring ecosystems and relationships

Since co-founding Paepae o He‘eia in 2001, study co-author Hi‘ilei Kawelo, a sixth-generation Hawaiian from Kāne‘ohe Bay, has witnessed thousands of volunteers transform the He‘eia loko i‘a.

With the ongoing restoration, Paepae o He‘eia has seen both the aquatic environment and participants’ well-being improve with increased access to traditional foods, strengthening their relationship to place, and fortifying their family and community relationships. “For me and for a lot of our employees, this is one of our outlets, if not our primary outlet for exercising aloha ‘āina [love of the land],” Kawelo said.

“‘Āina is so important, because it is a term for a system that has the nature and its people in an inseparable reciprocal relationship,” Winter said. “The concept is core to this work because it’s about getting back into a way of thinking where there is no separation between the lands, the waters and us.”

While the overarching goal of Paepae o He‘eia and other fishponds is to revitalize Hawai‘i’s extensive Indigenous aquaculture system, Kotubetey said he knows the work may take generations.

[solarpunkbusiness]

Toilet paper is most often made of wood pulp, which, in the U.S., is generally sourced from Canada. Some of the most popular toilet paper brands score an F on sustainability from the National Resources Defense Council because they are made almost entirely from forest fiber.

New products from Green Forest, Who Gives a Crap and a startup called Reel Paper, are transforming an industry that is ripe for disruption. Reel Paper uses bamboo instead of wood pulp. Bamboo is a grass, not a tree

"It is one of the fastest growing plants in the world. When you cut it down, it regenerates from the same root structure, and you can harvest that every three years, so we've found it's the best sustainable resource to create high-quality paper good items," said Reel Paper CEO David VanHimbergen.

He added bamboo's longer fibers make it ideal for balancing softness and strength.

"It's a small change that, as people can transition to something more sustainable, can have a meaningful impact because of the frequency of usage," he added

[katarinamiljkovic66]

~ "Process" exhibition ~

💻 Activity title: "Process" exhibition

💻 Duration and amount: 23th of February, 2 hours

💻 Type of activity: creativity

~ Activity Description ~

Due to my interest in graphic design, I decided to visit the "Process" exhibition, which was being held at the Museum of Contemporary Art on Museum Day. It was part of a four-year project called "ReCulture: Rebranding of Cultural Institutions of the Western Balkans," which was made within Creative Europe. 

This exhibition was used as a way to unveil the new visual identity of the Museum of Contemporary Art, alongside the visual identities of other cultural institutions that were involved in this project, such as the Trebinje Cultural Center, the Pavle Beljanski Memorial Collection, and the Art Colony Danilovgrad. The goal was to show how modern visual language communicates effectively with the public and how it can elevate the value of the institution’s heritage in both regional and international ways.

The first part of the exhibition shows many different posters that are different in their design and purpose. The young designers that worked on this exhibition decided to put in their works and showcase the uniqueness and creativity that go into making each one. My favorite one has to be "Schwanensee," which translates to Swan Lake.

The second part of the exhibition consisted of pictures that showed the process of making it. The design in the picture represents the multiple cultures that came together to make this project a reality. I think it also symbolizes how art is able to bring different cultures closer together. It is the one thread that connects all of us, regardless of our story or background. 

The new visual identity of the Museum of Contemporary Art was presented through these clocks. The choice of a watch represents the passage of time. The ten arms that make up the logo are organized relative to the golden section and get thinner with time. The final arm stops at nine o'clock, and the quarter of an hour that is missing symbolizes what is yet to come.

What is unique about design as an art form is that, through color, typography, and layout, it has to convey a clear message that is visually communicated to the consumer. This is why, in today's world, graphic design has so much application, which only seems to grow with the development of technology. It allows creativity while also having practical use in the making of a product, which is why I see graphic design as a potential future career path.

~ Reflection ~

This was a very unique exhibition to visit. Not only did I get to enjoy the colorful designs, but I also got to learn more about the process that goes into making them. One thing that I now know for sure is that teamwork is essential when working on bigger projects such as this one. It is also not something to avoid because working with other people can help us grow and even inspire us to undertake challenges we never faced before, whether they be personal or work-related. Either way, I'm very happy with my visit, and I hope to see more exhibitions like this in the near future.

~ Learning Outcomes ~

💻 Identify own strengths and develop areas for growth

💻 Demonstrate that challenges have been undertaken, developing new skills in the process

💻 Show commitment to and perseverance in CAS experiences

[timdcook4]

https://x.com/elonmusk/status/1742817924555936099?s=09

The reculturation of the United States?

[flecks-of-stardust]

i can also share this now! waste department map :)

[image description: A digitally drawn map of Unparalleled Innocence's waste department as of the events of IWSY. There are three subregions in the waste department: biological processing (bio), heavy metal processing (HM), and slag processing (slag), in decreasing order of size.

Bio has six buildings, and is heavily flooded. From approximate top to bottom, left to right order, the buildings are labeled dis, storage, fert, aeration, clarifier, and bar screening. A bridge connects the bar screening facility to the clarifier and aeration facilities, and a broken one is in the direction of the fertilizer building. The piping within bio, represented by arrows, goes from bar screening, to clarifier, to aeration, which has piping towards both the fertilizer building and the disinfection building. The fertilizer building has a pipe to the storage building. There are various pearls, represented by yellow dots, marked in bio; two are crossed out.

HM has four buildings: effluent treatment, purification, sorting, and smelting. Effluent treatment receives input from the aeration facility in bio, and sends materials to the sorting building. The sorting building, which has an additional input from the bar screening facility in bio, then forwards materials to the smelting building, and that in turn passes products to the purification sector. The purification sector sends materials back to the disinfection building in bio.

Slag has only two buildings: sorting and reculturing. The sorting building sends materials to bar screening in bio, sorting in HM, and the reculturing building.

Various food locations are also marked on the map, represented by blue squiggles of grass, light blue circles, and orange circles. The cardinal directions are marked at the top of the map, showing that north is offset around 45 degrees to the left. Innocence, represented by a lavender heart, is at the bottom of the map, heading back in the direction of their farm arrays. end image description]

[djch3]

Regrann from @reculturelondon - We are alive on Soundcloud! Check out our 1 hour mix by Reculture resident @rebutemusic for your weekend listening pleasure 😉. Soundcloud.com/Reculturelondon • • • • • #reculture #podcast #mixseries #housemusic #techno #houseandtechno #dj set #rebutemusic #gracejones - #regrann

[danieledorazi]

RE-CULTURE / How sampling transformed music | Mark Ronson