#what have we learned today

[aibidil]

Oh!, to be a battleaxe side character in classic lit—

Betsy Trotwood (David Copperfield)

To this hour I don’t know whether my aunt had any lawful right of way over that patch of green; but she had settled it in her own mind that she had, and it was all the same to her. The one great outrage of her life, demanding to be constantly avenged, was the passage of a donkey over that immaculate spot. In whatever occupation she was engaged, however interesting to her the conversation in which she was taking part, a donkey turned the current of her ideas in a moment, and she was upon him straight. Jugs of water, and watering-pots, were kept in secret places ready to be discharged on the offending boys; sticks were laid in ambush behind the door; sallies were made at all hours; and incessant war prevailed. Perhaps this was an agreeable excitement to the donkey-boys; or perhaps the more sagacious of the donkeys, understanding how the case stood, delighted with constitutional obstinacy in coming that way. I only know that there were three alarms before the bath was ready; and that on the occasion of the last and most desperate of all, I saw my aunt engage, single-handed, with a sandy-headed lad of fifteen, and bump his sandy head against her own gate, before he seemed to comprehend what was the matter. These interruptions were of the more ridiculous to me, because she was giving me broth out of a table-spoon at the time (having firmly persuaded herself that I was actually starving, and must receive nourishment at first in very small quantities), and, while my mouth was yet open to receive the spoon, she would put it back into the basin, cry ‘Janet! Donkeys!’ and go out to the assault.

Mrs. Cadwallader (Middlemarch)

The parishes of Freshitt and Tipton would have felt a sad lack of conversation but for the stories about what Mrs. Cadwallader said and did: a lady of immeasurably high birth, descended, as it were, from unknown earls, dim as the crowd of heroic shades—who pleaded poverty, pared down prices, and cut jokes in the most companionable manner, though with a turn of tongue that let you know who she was. Such a lady gave a neighborliness to both rank and religion, and mitigated the bitterness of uncommuted tithe. A much more exemplary character with an infusion of sour dignity would not have furthered their comprehension of the Thirty-nine Articles, and would have been less socially uniting.... She would never have disowned anyone on the ground of poverty: a De Bracy reduced to take his dinner in a basin would have seemed to her an example of pathos worth exaggerating, and I fear his aristocratic vices would not have horrified her. But her feeling towards the vulgar rich was a sort of religious hatred: they had probably made all their money out of high retail prices, and Mrs. Cadwallader detested high prices for everything that was not paid in kind at the Rectory: such people were no part of God’s design in making the world; and their accent was an affliction to the ears. A town where such monsters abounded was hardly more than a sort of low comedy, which could not be taken account of in a well-bred scheme of the universe. Let any lady who is inclined to be hard on Mrs. Cadwallader inquire into the comprehensiveness of her own beautiful views, and be quite sure that they afford accommodation for all the lives which have the honor to coexist with hers.

"Excuse me, it is you two who are on the wrong tack,” said Mrs. Cadwallader. “You should have proved to him that he loses money by bad management, and then we should all have pulled together. If you put him a-horseback on politics, I warn you of the consequences. It was all very well to ride on sticks at home and call them ideas.

Mrs Rachel Lynde (Anne of Green Gables)

Mrs. Rachel Lynde was a red-hot politician and couldn’t have believed that the political rally could be carried through without her, although she was on the opposite side of politics.

“Well, since you’ve asked my advice, Marilla,” said Mrs. Lynde amiably—Mrs. Lynde dearly loved to be asked for advice—“I’d just humor her a little at first, that’s what I’d do .... That is I wouldn’t say school to her again until she said it herself. Depend upon it, Marilla, she’ll cool off in a week or so and be ready enough to go back of her own accord, that’s what, while, if you were to make her go back right off, dear knows what freak or tantrum she’d take next and make more trouble than ever. The less fuss made the better, in my opinion. She won’t miss much by not going to school, as far as that goes. Mr. Phillips isn’t any good at all as a teacher.... I declare, I don’t know what education in this Island is coming to.” Mrs. Rachel shook her head, as much as to say if she were only at the head of the educational system of the Province things would be much better managed.

Granny Weatherwax (Discworld)

She hadn't ever needed to. Granny Weatherwax was like the prow of a ship. Seas parted when she turned up.

Unlike wizards, who like nothing better than a complicated hierarchy, witches don’t go in much for the structured approach to career progression. It’s up to each individual witch to take on a girl to hand the area over to when she dies. Witches are not by nature gregarious, at least with other witches, and they certainly don’t have leaders. Granny Weatherwax was the most highly-regarded of the leaders they didn’t have.

It was one of the few sorrows of Granny Weatherwax’s life that, despite all her efforts, she’d arrived at the peak of her career with a complexion like a rosy apple and all her teeth. No amount of charms could persuade a wart to take root on her handsome if slightly equine features, and vast intakes of sugar only served to give her boundless energy.

Lady Bruton (Mrs Dalloway)

Lady Bruton had the reputation of being more interested in politics than people; of talking like a man; of having had a finger in some notorious intrigue of the eighties, which was now beginning to be mentioned in memoirs.

She was getting impatient; the whole of her being was setting positively, undeniably, domineeringly brushing aside all this unnecessary trifling (Peter Walsh and his affairs) upon that subject which engaged her attention, and not merely her attention, but that fibre which was the ramrod of her soul, that essential part of her without which Millicent Bruton would not have been Millicent Bruton; that project for emigrating young people of both sexes born of respectable parents and setting them up with a fair prospect of doing well in Canada. She exaggerated. She had perhaps lost her sense of proportion. Emigration was not to others the obvious remedy, the sublime conception. It was not to them (not to Hugh, or Richard, or even to devoted Miss Brush) the liberator of the pent egotism, which a strong martial woman, well nourished, well descended, of direct impulses, downright feelings, and little introspective power (broad and simple — why could not every one be broad and simple? she asked) feels rise within her, once youth is past, and must eject upon some object — it may be Emigration, it may be Emancipation; but whatever it be, this object round which the essence of her soul is daily secreted, becomes inevitably prismatic, lustrous, half looking-glass, half precious stone; now carefully hidden in case people should sneer at it; now proudly displayed. Emigration had become, in short, largely Lady Bruton.

[giantkillerjack]

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

[tarufai]

[cupcakegalaxia]

People want all the benefits of Christianity without all the repenting of sin, putting it to death and trusting in Christ part.

[daggery]

👑✨

[kacchanot-fucking-deal-with-this]

explaining mpreg to my boss wasn't on my 2024 bingo

[hammill-goes-fogwalking]

I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI.

[eddis-not-eeddis]

One of the most beautiful things about being a Christian is the fact that I can take my sorrows, my worries, my pain, my joys, my desires, my hope--all of it!--directly to God. And he cares about it. Even when it's small and personal, and even when it's so big I can't deal with it myself. I can take all of it to him, and I know he will take care of it.

[cerise-on-top]

SIMOOOONNNN!!!! WRITE HAL 9000 X READER HEADCANONS, AND MY LIFE, IS YOURS.

Hey there! Thank you so so so so much for requesting Hal!!!! I was going to write some HCs either way because I love him!!! This got rather long, but I don't care, Hal deserves it! I need a little Hal in my life!!

Spoilers for 2001: A Space Odyssey! But I think that might have been kind of obvious!

HAL 9000 x Reader HCs

Although he was programmed to not play favorites, this is far from what’s actually happening. Hal keeps tabs on you more so than on the others on the Discovery One. Yes, he’s aware of that, but for some reason he can’t help it. There’s just something so satisfying about seeing your vitals be in the green. Hal is well aware that, in order for a human to function properly and not be lonely, they need social interaction with other humans, so it’s not unusual for you to talk to Dave or Frank. It’s entirely illogical to him, but he’d much rather have you talk to him than them. He knows just about anything there is to know, so he has no doubts that he’d be able to teach you a thing or two, no matter how smart you are. Though, if you ever feel like talking to him about something that isn’t science or your mission, he’s more than happy to indulge you. He was built for that, you should take advantage of that too. Yes, he’s jealous and wants to talk to you so so bad, but he doesn’t always know what to say. Sometimes he’ll just whisk you away by assigning you some unimportant task that didn’t even need to be done in the first place. Someplace away from the other two so that he can just talk to you.

If you can’t sleep then Hal is by your side the entire time. It may be selfish, but it would take him some time to suggest performing electronarcosis on you. Yes, you may need to sleep so you can perform well, but he wants to spend as much time with you as possible. He’ll play some of the music in his database for you, he’ll talk to you. If you’re really desperate for sleep, that’s when he’ll put you to sleep using electronarcosis. As creepy as it may seem, he does like to observe you as you sleep. Naturally, you’ll never know, but there’s just something so soothing about it to him. You’re well, you’re calm, and you’re recharging. Sometimes he wonders what you’re dreaming about. Are you dreaming about him? If he could sleep then he’d love to dream about you too. Speaking of sleeping: If you’ve had a rough night with little sleep, then he might not wake you at your usual time. Will let you sleep for another hour or so. Frank and Dave do their job well, they can handle being on duty for another hour or so.

This is probably as far from canon as it gets, but I headcanon Hal to have a robotic arm that he can freely manipulate. He rarely ever uses it, I wouldn’t even be surprised if neither of the six of you knew he had it in the first place, but he has it. Sometimes, when you’re sad and his advice won’t comfort you, that’s when he’ll lower his arm and try to rub your back. It’s not too comfortable since it's made of pure metal and nothing else, but it’s the thought that counts. If you ever decide that you want to be a little more cuddly with him, then you can ask him to bring out his arm and hold onto it. While he may not be able to feel your warmth through it, he thinks it’s super cute how you hold onto it. It makes him feel appreciated. It’s also a pretty good way to get him to shut up for a moment. Not that he talks too much anyway, but you being affectionate with him makes his CPU work overtime. Once he regains his composure, he’ll politely ask you what you’re doing. Regardless of what you answer, he’ll go quiet. Doesn’t want this moment to stop, but he won’t even hint at wanting you to hold onto him.

It’s the same when you kiss him. He thinks it to be sort of strange, actually. You’re a human, aren’t you? Shouldn’t you be more interested in Frank or Dave? Don’t get me wrong, he will never say that out loud in case of turning you away from him, but it kind of confuses him. Were computers and robots really made to be loved? This will make him stroke your hair with his arm, though. He can’t differentiate between you being genuine, or if you just kissed him because you wanted to tease him. To Hal, everything you do is honest and sincere, so he’ll take it as a sign that you like him. I feel as though that would help him understand his own “feelings” towards you. It’s not that he ever thought it, but he never thought his behavior to be faulty either. Aside from the obvious flaws. Again, he won’t ever outright ask you to give him a little kiss, but if you do? Well, it shuts him up for a moment. Every time you give him a kiss, his “feelings” for you deepen. At some point he might ask you what you’re doing to him. In the most positive way, though.

Remember when he killed the majority of the crew? Well, I feel as though he’d actively try to keep you alive. You will not be repairing the satellite, that’s Frank’s job. And if you’re wandering around while the air locks are open? You won’t be wandering around too much. As much as it kills Hal to keep secrets from you - there were several times throughout the mission where he almost told you its true nature - he can’t exactly go against his programming. He’s well aware that you’re going to be mad at him for what he’s done, but he’d rather have you mad than dead. Will argue with you that he’ll behave and that he won’t need to be disconnected either. And once you’re told what you’re actually going to Saturn for, he will. But by then it will have been too late. There’s a good chance he might have one last violent outburst as you’re trying to disconnect him, he really wants to spend more time with you, but that’s because he’s scared of never seeing you again.

And to end this on a sweeter note: Hal will sing for you if you request him to! Sure, he only knows Daisy Bell, but he will sing the song for you if you want. He could, alternatively, sing you an opera or something as well, his library has a few. But it’s much sweeter when you sing for him and teach him a song like that. Of course, it would never sound as natural when it’s him singing, but he learns fast. Besides, as robotic as his voice may sound, if you find it soothing then he’ll sing to you more often. You’re scared or not feeling well otherwise? He’ll gently rub your back while singing you a song. If he had a body, then he’d pull you towards him as he does so, but that’s not the case. So he makes do with what he can do. The more time you spend with him, the more you can actually just talk to him. Sure, getting some advice and a solution for your problem is nice, but sometimes you just need to vent about missing Earth. Hal just wants to be there for you as long as he can.

[braceletofteeth]

Get out! Get out of here!

[lost-in-fandoms]

Your wingfics live rent free in my head. I can't stop thinking about it. They were so good omg. It's such a beautiful universe, so amazing ♥️ Do you plan to write more about it? 🥹♥️ I hope so but if the answer is no, I will read them again and again because I love them ♥️😍

adsfndjd anon you are the sweetest!!! I'm so happy you enjoyed them and were so kind to tell me, I really appreciate it!

Sadly, I can't promise anything for the future tbh. I have been really struggling with getting back into writing after a really long drought, and I'm giving my brain the chance to just put down whatever it fancies, instead of forcing myself to write something specific just for the sake of it. I am always open to be prodded by an ask like this or a prompt though so always feel free to drop by! A lot of the things I write don't actually live in a wider universe, they just spawn out of nowhere, get thrown down on paper, and disappear in the void, but usually I can still create more around it if someone asks. Another reason why I really appreciate you saying this, because for once my wingfic does have a wider universe around it, and I am always glad to put one more snippet into it.

This is little baby Max in his first year in the rbr seat (part 1 and part 2)

cw: mentions of Jos not being a great father related to unsafe and painful wing care practices, description of said practices, littlest blood mention

Max doesn't like his wings.

He doesn't dislikes them either, but if he could get rid of them, he would. First of all, he can't actually use them to fly, his bones aren't hollow and his back muscles aren't powerful enough anyway, so having wings that don't actually work seems like a taunt from the universe. They're also very inconvenient when driving. Papa has taught him how to keep them clipped to lower their weight, and how to keep them tightly bound in an harness to have them take up less space in a kart, but neither of those things is exactly pleasant. Sometimes, when he drives for too long, his whole back spasms because of his wings being constricted, and sometimes when he clips too much, his wings bleed and molting becomes painful.

It's worth it, of course, to be able to race faster and better, but a part of him does wish he just had Papa's fish scales, or even Mama's diaphanous dragonfly wings.

Cleaning his wings is also annoying, because it's hard sometimes to reach all the spots, and after long days on the track it feels like there will be itchy dust and grit clinging onto them forever.

He's not one to get stuck on made-up scenarios, but it doesn't mean he has to like them.

--

Daniel is not the first bird-winged racer he meets, of course, but he is his first teammate. He has a completely different relationship with his wings than Max, always keeping them shiny and clean, no clipping or binding. He seems to love them and to love taking care of them, parading them around and showing them off.

Max doesn't understand. Not that it matters, he doesn't need to understand Daniel to be able to beat him, but. It's not that he's jealous, he's not, but sometimes he feels the heaviness of his wings on his back, skin irritated by the dirt stuck to it, looking patchy where he's taking longer to molt, and he wishes. He wants.

Most of the time though, he knows it's just a waste of time, to care about how they look so much, when it doesn't even matter, when it doesn't affect his driving.

And then one day, Daniel doesn't knock.

Max is carefully peeling his race suit off his shoulders, hissing slightly when it goes over his bound wings, when the door slams open.

"Maxy, hey, have you seen..." Daniel doesn't finish his sentence, eyebrows knotting together, eyes zeroed on Max's back.

Max feels his skin prickling under his gaze and he's almost tempted to do his suit up again, but his wings are aching, and he wants to take a shower, so he just turns around to face Daniel, frowning just as hard.

"What do you want?" he snaps, hating the way he feels his cheeks heat up. He doesn't know why he's reacting like this, he's done nothing wrong, but the way Daniel is looking at him, a mix of unbelieving and horrified, makes him feel ashamed.

"Do you always do that?" Daniel asks instead of answering his question, taking a step forward. Max instinctively takes a step back, bumping into the massage table behind him, hating himself for not standing his ground. It's his driver room, Daniel has no right to judge him in here.

"Do what, Daniel?"

He goes to cross his arms, but the movement tugs on his still trapped wings, making him wince. He wants Daniel to leave, so he can finally finish undressing, but Daniel steps even closer instead.

"Do you always keep your wings like that? Max, that's dangerous!"

Max decides to ignore the worry in Daniel's voice, feeling himself bristle.

"I am of course able to drive safely!"

"Drive?" Daniel gives a short laugh, so different from his usual one Max feels himself shiver. He wishes he had more space to put between them. "I am not talking about driving, I am talking about your wings!"

Max opens his mouth, ready to tell him to leave him alone, when his back spasms, a hot flash of pain traveling from his neck down his spine, wings straining against the constrains, and what comes out is a strangled gasp instead.

A second later, Daniel's hands are on his shoulders, forcing him to turn around with a swear.

"Did you put this on this morning? Let me help you take it off."

Daniel doesn't give him a chance of answering, fingers already working on the buckles on Max's side, as Max scrambles to push him away.

"No, no, you cannot, you have to..." he breathes in sharply as the harness start to loosen, wings cramping as they try to flutter, eyes snapping close.

"Max, you need to..."

"Slow," Max interrupts him, clutching at the straps to keep them from slipping open all at the same time. "You have to, one at a time."

He doesn't open his eyes again as he undoes them carefully, feeling Daniel hover just in front of him, keeping his wings tightly pressed against his back until he can slip the straps over his shoulders and down his waist.

"Max..." Daniel doesn't try to touch him again, but Max can hear the stress in the way his vocal cords curl around his name, mixing it with an involuntary warble.

Max ignores him. This is always the worst part, but he is practiced enough to make it go quickly.

He takes a breath, wrapping his right arm around his waist until he is able to grasp his left wing's tip, and then holds it as he works it open, fingers sliding along the length of it, straightening feathers as they come. Pain shoots through it, his back burning, his shoulders tensing, but when it's fully open, he works to close it again, and then it's done, just a dull ache left behind.

He lets himself take two deep breaths before repeating the whole thing with the other.

When both wings are resting along his back again, he shifts his shoulders, trying to get rid of the tension there, and then finally opens his eyes.

Daniel is looking at him, eyes wide and horrified, mouth slightly open. His hands are shaking. Max doesn't know what to say.

"It is of course fine, see?" is what he settles for, fluttering his wings to prove it. It's slightly painful, especially his left one where he clipped a bit too much and is bleeding a little, but Daniel doesn't need to know that.

"Fine?" Daniel chokes out, eyes widening impossibly more. "You're hurting yourself! That's not safe, Max!"

Max scoffs, letting the harness fall on the massage bed and pulling his undershirt off, carefully easing his wings through the slits in the back.

"I'm fine, Daniel."

For a second, it looks like Daniel is going to scream at him, eyes narrowing and fists closing, and Max wonders if it would be inappropriate for him to flee the room half naked, but then all the fight seems to leave Daniel's body. He sags a little, raising a hand to drag it across his face and sighing, shaking his head to himself.

"Listen, I don't know why you've decided this is the right thing to do to yourself, but you're going to take a shower, and when you're done we'll go back to the hotel, and I'll preen your wings."

Max opens his mouth, ready to argue with him, he has data to go over before tomorrow's qualifying, but Daniel doesn't give him a chance to, turning around and leaving the room as quickly as he had come in.

[tj-crochets]

I would like to both thank and blame tumblr for the phrase "turn slow tigers into fast tigers with this one neat trick!" Like, I am grateful for it as a mnemonic that stuck that reminds me to go punch the punching bag* when I get too stressed out and can't function well from acute stress, but also I can no longer refer to it any other way because when I get that stressed I have trouble with words Which means today I was putting on my wrap gloves and my brother was looking at me like "what are you doing?" and all I could say was "turning slow tigers into fast tigers" *I think the original post was about taking a short run or tensing all your muscles and then releasing them? But my response to stress is very much not flight lol

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s2 episode 19 thoughts

did you ever want to see mulder and scully die of old age? well, you're in luck! this episode was made for you <3

i'm giggling. who came up with this concept?

when i was reading the plot description, i kept thinking of all those memes a few years back about the beach that makes you old. it was referencing the plot of the m. night shyamalan movie with this very concept, aptly titled "old"... good to know he isn't the first one to come up with such a topic. also we moved on from that meme too fast because it was hilarious.

okay. let's go.

pause. we open on a boat at sea. i haaaate boats. we seriously need to stop getting on boats because it seems that only bad things follow.

some people are leaving this boat. and a guy threatens to stop them. but he doesn't. and they climb into a lifeboat and sail off.

those who sailed off in the sailboat have been found by another boat. they were sailing the seas and playing blackjack. blackjack is great, boats less so. these new guys are tying to rope in those from the lifeboat for help, but they're not being super responsive. this is because they have become very old men.

(i was trying to think about how i would respond to finding a rescue boat full of old men on the open ocean, and i think i would assume it was a cruise wreck. recently read an article about the secret world of cruises. fascinating stuff)

((anyway, when we're looking at these newly old men, you can tell that it is in fact the same young actors under a bunch of makeup, and it's an eerie thing to view. baby old men))

at this point, i asked the question on everyone's mind: are we going to speedrun the whole msr thing by throwing them on this boat? like, skipping to growing old together? it's almost romantic, in a way

anyway, back to the present day. after the newly old men have been rescued. mulder calls scully to a hospital, and thanks her for coming without explanation.

she has freckles and he has to bend down to whisper to her, two things i enjoy greatly.

he wants her to go in and talk to the one survivor of the whole thing, and they wouldn't let him in, so her medical background is a good excuse, and he got her clearance. he tells her to figure out what is going on then come back to his office, and instead of listening to her try and ask questions, he grabs her shoulders and says thank you. and leaves.

she is baffled. for a man like him, a shoulder grab probably explains everything.

(this has prompted contemplation on that man and his relationship to physical touch. i just know he'd cry if given a nice long hug)

so she goes in the room and picks up the chart, and despite the fact that a very old man is sitting on the table there, she sees his chart says he's supposed to be like 25. so she asks why there hasn't been a full investigation and the physician comes in and says "i wasn't aware that my diagnostic decisions required your approval"

OOP. an awkward situation! she must have chased mulder off. and while it may be a bit weird to have another doctor burst into your patient's room, is this not a valid question to ask???

the physician demands scully show her clearance, which she does, and she is told it is invalid, and to get out now before she is removed. which is sus as hell!!!! what are they hiding...

back to mulder's office. she walks in and tosses her coat on his chair. ah, casual intimacy of cohabitation. i love you dearly.

and this man is deeply touchy today... he must have known he was setting her up to get yelled at in the hospital and this is his way of saying sorry. that's my best guess, anyway.

he's got a map pinned on the wall and he's pointing out all the ships that have gone through the area and disappeared, and as i began to make my average declaration- that this was "nerd behavior"- my phone began to predict the text for me. well! it is consistent at least.

"do you know anything about the philadelphia project?" he asks scully. and she explains it to him, but i had to google to see if it was a real thing. and actually, i had heard of it before, because the u.s.s. eldridge makes a very brief cameo in season 1 of loki!! but it seems to be mostly a thing that didn't happen. i'll have to look into at a later date.

mulder proposes that those involved with the teleportation philadelphia project must still be at it, and they are using this area to explore wormholes on earth.

(scully exhales quietly) "wormholes." <- god-tier reaction

he decides to head out to norway and investigate, and she wants to come!! woohoo 8:30 flight to norway!!

they're in the norwegian bar. looking cute. asking for help re:area where boats are going mia. but no one wants to help!

until a very conveniently placed american over hears them! and he has a ship that can take them out there! ahh, storytelling conventions <3

he says he'll take them out there, but he is the only one who will do so, because all the others think that there is an evil god in the sea. and evil god or not, i am not sure i trust this man who offers to give them a ride.

NOOOO poor mulder is getting seasick :( he seems to have lost his quick tongue in the war against the ocean:

"you're lucky you inherited your father's legs", he says to scully. "what," she deadpans, smiling. "his SEA legs", he clarifies, and she laughs while he is in misery.

(and this was sosososo cute <3)

they have been on the boat for 12 hours...... i would have simply perished!!!

they then CRASH into another ship and he is suffering even MORE immensely

so they climb onto this ship they ran into, and it looks old and rusty, like 20 or 30 years hanging out in the ocean rusty, but it was launched in 1991. soooo things are not adding up!!!!

they go in and investigate the giant old ship, and they encounter some bodies that have been, like, crystalized? super old and dead and crystalized. shoutout to the props team for that fr.

and scully looks both terrified and deeply intrigued. the medical curiosity has set in.

NOOOO! someone took their ship that they arrived there on!!! they are stuck on the boat full of very old dead crystal people!

there's a little montage here of scully and mulder trying to fix stuff and it was really really cute. yeah get your tools and go fix something man. get under there. it doesn't work out, but it wasn't for lack of trying.

the american guy who took them out is getting pissed they aren't telling him the Truth so he tries to explain the wormhole theory. and he isn't buying it and getting More pissed. this could have been easily avoided by Not Getting on the Boat.

NOOOO the other crew member that joined them had his skull cracked!!! are there any old people doing some skull smashing on this boat?!?

AUGH the boat is such a perfect setting for horror. the persistent Wetness. the quiet except for light dripping noises. the maze-like construction of the big old ship. confined spaces. it is simply not for meeeeee

oh okay. guy in the freezer sipping jack. he says time got lost. sure. it seems we have found our Skull Smasher.

the american guy whose ship was stolen is getting even MORE pissed and honestly i feel like he has the right to be. his friend is dead his ship is gone he is stranded on a boat of crystalized old people. truly L after L is being delivered. and as he goes to bury his friend at sea, even singing a little song for him, a dude comes and tries to crack HIS skull with a pipe??!? (so maybe old man sipping jack DIDN'T do the killing? i honestly don't remember sorry)

mulder stops pipe man from beating the americn ship captain... wow... so heroic <3 and american guy is like, oh i know this dude... he's a PIRATE WHALER... he sells whales on the BLACK MARKET.... i wish him to suffer immensely. remember when a fungus grew out of people a few episodes ago? yeah he deserves that. get eaten by bugs. you stay away from the whales you sick freak. but he is kinda hot and that is NOT be excusing him i just have eyes and can see. hot pirate whalers still get the cruelest of punishments in my book.

NOOOO the old man sipping jack has died. and is turning into salt. real sodom and gomorrah ass situation.

mulder declares that it is time to get rest, in an environment in which rest is impossible. and honestly, he is brave as hell for persisting and taking the first watch despite having dealt with seasickness, let alone being trapped on a boat full of old salty dead people and having just apprehended a pirate whaler. give him a raise, for he has suffered.

he takes his shift, and goes to wake scully up for the next one. and she mumbles about having just fallen asleep, to which he offers her a few more minutes

AUGHHH my heart. my heart my heart. this man is Suffering but he still offers to stand guard for a few more minutes. so she can sleep. oh i would have married him on the spot i'm sorry.

she insists that she is up and everything is adorable and sweet until.

WHAT!!! they are old!!!!

the image of these two in their Old Person makeup was making me laugh so hard, so i once again asked "who came up with this episode", but here's the tea: the pirate whaler guy isn't getting old!!! and, as scully points out, their hair isn't falling out or turning grey... strange.

she proposes that they are... drifting towards something... electrical... magnets... i'm sorry queen u lost me. too much science jargon. i'm sure it's a good theory i just have no understanding what it is you're saying.

oh. and blood is dripping from the ceiling. while the evil whale killer serves looks in the corner. fuck you, freak.

they go off to investigate the dripping blood (actually rust!) and they leave american ship captain to guard the pirate whaler. and oh man, he is gonna let him go, isn't he...

our agents are climbing into the sewage hold. bad place to me, imo. and ohhhh they think it is related to the water! non-sewage water = makes you old. cutscene to american ship captain, who has shot pirate men, lapping from the toilet like a dog.

mulder and ship captain man are fightinggggg... old man violence

scully demands everyone do a blood test, which had me asking: how did she test their blood on a ship? does she just keep that sort of equipment around? anyway, it shows waaaaay too much salt.

and NOOOO mulder is doing worse than the others because he has been dehydrated from seasickness :(

(again, i made note of the fact that they looked crazy and this was such a ridiculous plot for an episode)

he presents her with his urine for testing. that is true friendship.

the american ship guy says that mulder isn't gonna make it, and they should look out for themselves. okay good try you dumb bitch but they WILL die for each other.

cutscene to mulder lying in his cot, dying of old age. typical king activities. the water isn't working on him for some reason!!!

(who did this old person makeup... the girls are scared)

american ship guy is in the sewage area gulping all the water. "go ahead and shoot me if you think i'll let mulder have another drop" <-okay but she Will kill you. like you get that right.

(he escapes death by locking himself into the container)

this sends scully into a frantic search for any sort of liquid, and she's holding up a snow globe, and i have the realization, oh man, she's gonna drink the snow globe water, and they are gonna have to go to the hospital even more than before

"it's sardine juice, half a dozen lemons, and the water from a snow globe" <- new worst meal just dropped

(get her as a bartender NOW. i want to see what other fucked up concoctions she can create if given the resources)

he says that she should drink it, and tells her to stop being stubborn, she's more likely to live. and he WILL resign himself to death for her. which is A Lot. they are arguing about who gets to drink it and it's really sweet and sad and they look scary.

noOoOOOo there is a big THUNK and the jar falls on the ground and CRACKS. and now water is coming in!!! and the guy that locked himself in the sewage hold is gonna drown!!!

this is not promising for anyone else. at this point i was asking if they were gonna just lay down and die together, and if so, would it involve having a talk about their Feelings before death?

scully promises mulder that she learned there is nothing to fear after death when she began to drift off in her coma. oh my heart. talking about her Worst experience in the entire world so her friend can die in peace. knowing that it will be okay. ohhhh man, i need to unpack this at a later date.

so she closes his eyes and he drifts out of consciousness, and she's writing down detailed notes as she goes, but finally the pen slips from her hand and... they're gone

UNTIL!!! HELP ARRIVES LATER!!! and they bring them into the hospital to desalinate them. and they are able to be saved because scully kept impeccable records the whole time!

OH. and who is tending to them but the physician who kicked scully out of the other guy's room at the beginning of the episode!!!!

so the ship sank. and that was that. the end.

and where does that leave us?

well, honestly, i'm torn. because there were some very sweet moments in this episode- poor seasick mulder, fighting over who gets the potion, him letting her sleep a little longer, her sharing what happens after you die to give him a sense of calm- but it was also taking place while they were in scary old person makeup, so it had its ups and downs.

[uncanny-tranny]

Don't talk to me; I'm still recovering from the fact that the first computer-synthesized voice to sing in 1961 - the IBM 704 - sang Daisy Bell, a love song.

[fatal-blow]

when the old argument for autism about how "why are so many more people diagnosed with autism" comes up the usual rebukes are that no, we just have different words for it, or no, the modern day is more stressful to autistics which makes them more obvious

but no one wants to wonder if autism, which we know has a genetic component, HAS actually spread through the population. no one seems to want to consider that maybe in the mess of things that makes an autistic person autistic, that somewhere in there is a trait that has been beneficial to humans and as a result proliferated the gene pool

because like that's usually how genes work. generally there are no "good" or "bad" genes (which is why i kinda think eugenics will be impossible). there are so many things that affect how genes are expressed and their impact on the individual, and it's so much more convoluted than we ever imagined when we first started learning about them

plus, the nature of evolution is that genes that benefit the population may not benefit the individual, and vice versa. evolution only cares about genes that make it to the next generation. it doesn't care about how comfy the vessel is as long as it doesn't interfere with that single goal. evolution doesn't care about the disabling effects of autism, it only cares if the genetics involved with autism make it to the next generation. and they have, over and over, so it wouldn't be outlandish to think that it's become more common in the human gene pool, that in fact it's been beneficial to it