When Are Pterotrachea Finally Going To Go Viral? How Does Anyone Look At This Animal And Not Flip Their

Metamorphosis

By Ruth Stone

Now I am old, all I want to do is try;

But when I was young, if it wasn’t easy I let it lie,

Learning through my pores instead,

And it did neither of us any good.

For now she is gone who slept away my life,

And I am ignorant who inherited,

Though the head has grown so lively that I laugh,

“Come look, come stomp, come listen to the drum.”

I see more now than then; but she who had my eyes

Closed them in happiness, and wrapped the dark

In her arms and stole my life away,

Singing in dreams of what was sure to come.

I see it perfectly, except the beast

Fumbles and falters, until the others wince.

Everything shimmers and glitters and shakes with unbearable longing,

The dancers who cannot sleep, and the sleepers who cannot dance

I don't normally post photos or talk about the protest actions I participate in, but I was at the Chicago Stand Up For Science rally on behalf of my job recently and this sign took me out at the knees.

I got to hold a 500,000 year old hand axe at the museum today.

It's right-handed

I am right-handed

There are grooves for the thumb and knuckle to grip that fit my hand perfectly

I have calluses there from holding my stylus and pencils and the gardening tools.

There are sharper and blunter parts of the edge, for different types of cutting, as well as a point for piercing.

I know exactly how to use this to butcher a carcass.

A homo erectus made it

Some ancestor of mine, three species ago, made a tool that fits my hand perfectly, and that I still know how to use.

Who were you

A man? A woman? Did you even use those words?

Did you craft alone or were you with friends? Did you sing while you worked?

Did you find this stone yourself, or did you trade for it? Was it a gift?

Did you make it for yourself, or someone else, or does the distinction of personal property not really apply here?

Who were you?

What would you think today, seeing your descendant hold your tool and sob because it fits her hands as well?

What about your other descendant, the docent and caretaker of your tool, holding her hands under it the way you hold your hands under your baby's head when a stranger holds them.

Is it bizarre to you, that your most utilitarian object is now revered as holy?

Or has it always been divine?

Or is the divine in how I am watching videos on how to knap stone made by your other descendants, learning by example the way you did?

Tomorrow morning I am going to the local riverbed in search of the appropriate stones, and I will follow your example.

The first blood spilled on it will almost certainly be my own, as I learn the textures and rhythm of how it's done.

Did you have cuss words back then? Gods to blaspheme when the rock slips and you almost take your thumbnail off instead? Or did you just scream?

I'm not religious.

But if spilling my own blood to connect with a stranger who shared it isn't partaking in the divine

I don't know what is.

At 23, JK Rowling was broke. Tina Fey was working at the Y.M.C.A. Oprah had just gotten fired from her first job as a TV reporter and Walt Disney had declared bankruptcy.

Read This If You’re 23 And Lost by Heidi Priebe (via twentysomethingstate)

I think it’s important to realize you can miss something, but not want it back

Paulo Coelho (via itcuddles)

a chaotic but accurate representation of the little things I love in my day-to-day academic career, aka a moodboard of all the little things I really miss and can’t wait to do/see again once I can go back to my full-time on-campus Arts & Media Student life after this worldwide mess is all over

just goofing off around campus, bc we’re young and nothing matters so why tf not

eyes open to all the wonderful différences in fellow students, noticing and enjoying how unique and awesome and varied their colourful outfits are

also everyone is wearing doc martens, and so are you, bc that’s what everyone at this university wears

high-fiving that friend that you always walk past on a Thursday morning as they hand out fliers, and you won’t see them again until next week doing the same thing, and that’s the extent of your friendship

going to the university bar after we’ve all handed up an assignment, let’s split the bottle between us bc we’re broke uni students but we love a good red

cheap pints and pool tables, arcade games and deep booths, sharing a bowl of mouth-scolding potato chips with your mates

student discount on art supplies

trips to the next door art gallery to kill time between classes

studying/lunch in the botanic gardens bc theres 4 hours until your next class

naps on the grass, soaking up the watery autumn sunshine with people you love

instant noodles and snacks from at the uni general store, boiling water and vending machines in the student kitchens

cook-ups with friends to last us the week to save $$$ on food, but also buying plenty of beverages with the money we were supposed to save with this exercise

camera comes everywhere around campus, ready to immortalise the moments missed with a blink

a collection of hoodies/rugby jumpers, first years flock the uni-merch store for their jumpers to wear around campus with pride

homework session in the study rooms, actually in in each others company, who knows how much work is actually getting done bc my best friends are sitting across from me as we study together late into the night, we’re hilarious and distract eachother lots but we know we will eventually get it done, and it’s better to be procrastinating together than have the distraction be the interior of your mind in isolation

I say “See ya later”, and it’s true, I will see you later, and I’ll see you tomorrow, and the next day

lecture theatres: full

couples on campus, initially you scrunch your nose at them, but you realise how lovely it is that they can freely share affection, who would have thought it would be taken away like this?

a myriad of evidence that you have consumed caffeine, dishes not done bc you’re glued to your assignment and you love it bc it’s your 2,500 word baby

bumping into a stranger and you don’t immediately run to wash your hands or get tested for a deadly virus - it’s just an awkward funny accident, and you laugh it off and probably see them around campus more now after that circumstantial exchange

practical research, primary sources, touching things, holding things, learning through touch

holding hands, linking arms, greeting and parting hugs, a kiss on the cheek

groups of friends, groups of people, line ups for cafes, huddles of friends around a table, huddling over a project, group assignments but we’re not separated by a wifi connection

texting my friends during class to meet up afterwards at our favourite cafe, it’s a dark and scrumptious overcast day and it’s our main haunt ( @academicinfj )

hugging your friends goodbye, shaking hands of new acquaintances

networking! NETWORKING! NEW PEOPLE! Hiya, how’s it going, what are you all about? Interviews and photoshoots, drawing real people in front of you, learning all about them, writing up an article from scratch but it’s easy bc they’re right in front of you and they’re handing you the words

knocking on your favourite lecturers door for a chat, it’s a meeting you set up with them, rather than dropping by in a video call

greeting your local barista who knows your order bc you’re consistent and has already started on it bc you’re always here at this time, the legend, they see you walk in and smile and ask after you, and you them bc even though you only ever see them in this context, they are in your circle and this exchange is more precious than you’ve ever given it credit for before

your lecturer rolls their eyes at your joke about the course content, but you can see their hidden smile clear as day across the lecture hall bc it was a bloody good joke and they know it, it’s a real-life détail and it’s not lost in a poor wifi connection

Theres $15 pizza and live-jazz nights on Tuesdays in the night-life district not far from campus, we go there every Tuesday after that class thay finishes in the evening, and the band knows who we’re the group in the corner, bc we’re always there with our pizza, and we’ll be there next week to hear the same songs and make a ruckus and cheer them on and dance, keY CHANGE YES LOVE IT!!! ! THAT SOLO!!!! REAL MUSIC BABEY !!

submitting an assignment 3 minutes before it’s due, the EXHILERATION of it

TL;DR: life is all around; no glitches, not delays or lags, we’re smiling and laughing and talking in real time, there’s nothing between us, no screens, just atmosphere

it’s good to be around

Ice age children frolicked in 'giant sloth puddles' 11,000 years ago, footprints reveal

More than 11,000 years ago, young children trekking with their families through what is now White Sands National Park in New Mexico discovered the stuff of childhood dreams: muddy puddles made from the footprints of a giant ground sloth.

Few things are more enticing to a youngster than a muddy puddle. The children — likely four in all — raced and splashed through the soppy sloth trackway, leaving their own footprints stamped in the playa — a dried up lake bed. Those footprints were preserved over millennia, leaving evidence of this prehistoric caper, new research finds.

The finding shows that children living in North America during the Pleistocene epoch (2.6 million to 11,700 years ago) liked a good splash. “All kids like to play with muddy puddles, which is essentially what it is,” Matthew Bennett, a professor of environmental and geographical sciences at Bournemouth University in the U.K. who is studying the trackway, told Live Science. Read more.

Have you heard about mole genders?

I’ve heard of this concept in sci-fi, but thought it was absolutely made up. I know some fish and frogs can change genders, but not in cycles like this. Wild. If I slapped this down in some alien world without explanation, I’d laugh in my own face. But no, real biology IS that bizarre.

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