heyo if anyone wants to follow my DA blog it’s @juliafied
meanwhile this is my main blog that likes and follows all of your awesome stuff.
I post fanfic and reblog fanart and such on there!
art blog(derogatory)

⁂
dirt enthusiast
RMH
Xuebing Du
we're not kids anymore.
almost home
DEAR READER
taylor price
Claire Keane
styofa doing anything
Not today Justin
wallacepolsom


tannertan36
will byers stan first human second

oozey mess

#extradirty
todays bird

seen from India
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@juliafied-personal
heyo if anyone wants to follow my DA blog it’s @juliafied
meanwhile this is my main blog that likes and follows all of your awesome stuff.
I post fanfic and reblog fanart and such on there!

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whoever made the decision to make umpires wear cameras... you are a legend
this is genuinely the funniest thing i've ever seen
beg for your life, tennis boy
bye👋

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Untitled - Paloma Salgado Diaz , 2024.
Chilean , b. 1990s
Acrylic on canvas , 100 x 120 cm.
one of the best academic paper titles
for those who don't speak academia: "according to our MRI machine, dead fish can recognise human emotions. this suggests we probably should look at the results of our MRI machine a bit more carefully"
I hope everyone realises how incredibly important this dead fish study is. This was SO fucking important.
I still don’t understand
So basically, in the psych and social science fields, researchers would (I don't know if they still do this, I've been out of science for awhile) sling around MRIs like microbiolosts sling around metagenomic analyses. MRIs can measure a lot but people would use them to measure 'activity' in the brain which is like... it's basically the machine doing a fuckload of statistics on brain images of your blood vessels while you do or think about stuff. So you throw a dude in the machine and take a scan, then give him a piece of chocolate cake and throw him back in and the pleasure centres light up. Bam! Eating chocolate makes you happy, proven with MRI! Simple!
These tests get used for all kinds of stuff, and they get used by a lot of people who don't actually know what they're doing, how to interpret the data, or whether there's any real link between what they're measuring and what they're claiming. It's why you see shit going around like "men think of women as objects because when they look at a woman, the same part of their brain is active as when they look at a tool!" and "if you play Mozart for your baby for twenty minutes then their imagination improves, we imaged the brain to prove it!" and "we found where God is in the brain! Christians have more brain activity in this region than atheists!"
There are numerous problems with this kind of science, but the most pressing issue is the validity of the scans themselves. As I said, there's a fair bit of stats to turn an MRI image into 'brain activity', and then you do even more stats on that to get your results. Bennett et. al.'s work ran one of these sorts of experiments, with one difference -- they used a dead salmon instead of living human subjects. And they got positive results. The same sort of experiment, the same methodology, the same results that people were bandying about as positive results. According to the methodology in common use, dead salmon can distinguish human facial expressions. Meaning one of two things:
Dead salmon can recognise human facial expressions. OR
Everyone else's results are garbage also, none of you have data for any of this junk.
I cannot overstate just how many papers were completely fucking destroyed by this experiment. Entire careers of particularly lazy scientists were built on these sorts of experiments. A decent chunk of modern experimental neuropsychology was resting on it. Which shows that science is like everything else -- the best advances are motivated by spite.
its christmas eve and look whos on tumblr
all of us
Jesus also spent Christmas in a barn full of animals
HERE’S THE THING THOUGH
I used to work for a call center and I was doing a political survey and I called this number that was randomly generated for me and the way our system worked was voice-activated so when the other person said hello you’d get connected to them, so I just launch right into my “Harvard University and NPR blah blah blah” thing and then there’s this long pause and I think the person’s hung up even though I didn’t hear a click
And then I hear “you shouldn’t be able to call this number.”
So I apologize and go into the preset spiel about because we aren’t selling anything, etc. etc. and the answer I get is
“No, I know that. What I mean is that it should be impossible for you to call this number, and I need to know how you got it.”
I explain that it’s randomly generated and I’m very sorry for bothering him, and go to hang up. And before I can click terminate, I hear:
“Ma’am, this is a matter of national security.”
I accidentally called the director of the FBI.
My job got investigated because a computer randomly spit out a number to the Pentagon.
This is my new favourite story.
When I was in college I got a job working for a company that manages major air-travel data. It was a temp gig working their out of date system while they moved over to a new one, since my knowing MS Dos apparently made me qualified.
There was no MS Dos involved. Instead, there was a proprietary type-based OS and an actually-uses-transistors refrigerator-sized computer with switches I had to trip at certain times during the night as I watched the data flow from six pm to six AM on Fridays and weekends. If things got stuck, I reset the server.
The company handled everything from low-end data (hotel and car reservations) to flight plans and tower information. I was weighed every time I came in to make sure it was me. Areas of the building had retina scanners on doors.
During training. they took us through all the procedures. Including the procedures for the red phone. There was, literally, a red phone on the shelf above my desk. “This is a holdover from the cold war.” They said. “It isn’t going to come up, but here’s the deal. In case of nuclear war or other nation-wide disaster, the phone will ring. Pick up the phone, state your name and station, and await instructions. Do whatever you are told.”
So my third night there, it’s around 2am and there’s a ringing sound.
I look up, slowly. The Red phone is ringing.
So I reach out, I pick up the phone. I give my name and station number. And I hear every station head in the building do the exact same. One after another, voices giving names and numbers. Then silence for the space of two breaths. Silence broken by…
“Uh… Is Shantavia there?”
It turns out that every toll free, 1-900 or priority number has a corresponding local number that it routs to at its actual destination. Some poor teenage girl was trying to dial a friend of hers, mixed up the numbers, and got the atomic attack alert line for a major air-travel corporation’s command center in the mid-west United States.
There’s another pause, and the guys over in the main data room are cracking up. The overnight site head is saying “I think you have the wrong number, ma’am.” and I’m standing there having faced the specter of nuclear annihilation before I was old enough to legally drink.
The red phone never rang again while I was there, so the people doing my training were only slightly wrong in their estimation of how often the doomsday phone would ring.
Every time I try to find this story, I end up having to search google with a variety of terms that I’m sure have gotten me flagged by some watchlist, so I’m reblogging it again where I swear I’ve reblogged it before.
But none of these stories even come close to the best one of them all; a wrong number is how the NORAD Santa Tracker got started.
Seriously, this is legit.
In December 1955, Sears decided to run a Santa hotline. Here’s the ad they posted.
Only problem is, they misprinted the number. And the number they printed? It went straight through to fucking NORAD. This was in the middle of the Cold War, when early warning radar was the only thing keeping nuclear annihilation at bay. NORAD was the front line.
And it wasn’t just any number at NORAD. Oh no no no.
Terri remembers her dad had two phones on his desk, including a red one. “Only a four-star general at the Pentagon and my dad had the number,” she says.
“This was the ‘50s, this was the Cold War, and he would have been the first one to know if there was an attack on the United States,” Rick says.
The red phone rang one day in December 1955, and Shoup answered it, Pam says. “And then there was a small voice that just asked, ‘Is this Santa Claus?’ ”
His children remember Shoup as straight-laced and disciplined, and he was annoyed and upset by the call and thought it was a joke — but then, Terri says, the little voice started crying.
“And Dad realized that it wasn’t a joke,” her sister says. “So he talked to him, ho-ho-ho’d and asked if he had been a good boy and, ‘May I talk to your mother?’ And the mother got on and said, ‘You haven’t seen the paper yet? There’s a phone number to call Santa. It’s in the Sears ad.’ Dad looked it up, and there it was, his red phone number. And they had children calling one after another, so he put a couple of airmen on the phones to act like Santa Claus.”
“It got to be a big joke at the command center. You know, ‘The old man’s really flipped his lid this time. We’re answering Santa calls,’ ” Terri says.
And then, it got better.
“The airmen had this big glass board with the United States on it and Canada, and when airplanes would come in they would track them,” Pam says.
“And Christmas Eve of 1955, when Dad walked in, there was a drawing of a sleigh with eight reindeer coming over the North Pole,” Rick says.
“Dad said, ‘What is that?’ They say, ‘Colonel, we’re sorry. We were just making a joke. Do you want us to take that down?’ Dad looked at it for a while, and next thing you know, Dad had called the radio station and had said, ‘This is the commander at the Combat Alert Center, and we have an unidentified flying object. Why, it looks like a sleigh.’ Well, the radio stations would call him like every hour and say, ‘Where’s Santa now?’ ” Terri says.
For real.
“And later in life he got letters from all over the world, people saying, ‘Thank you, Colonel,’ for having, you know, this sense of humor. And in his 90s, he would carry those letters around with him in a briefcase that had a lock on it like it was top-secret information,” she says. “You know, he was an important guy, but this is the thing he’s known for.”
“Yeah,” Rick [his son] says, “it’s probably the thing he was proudest of, too.”
So yeah. I think that might be the best wrong number of all time.
Source: http://www.npr.org/2014/12/19/371647099/norads-santa-tracker-began-with-a-typo-and-a-good-sport
No okay THAT is adorable and I’m queueing this for next December.
we need another conventionally attractive young man who is chronically weird online to commit a second publicly acclaimed politically motivated assassination so that we can finally achieve what until now was previously believed impossible: ethical true crime yaoi rpf

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The way I just saw a clown saying that a Fuji 🍎 is better than a Cosmic Crisp….i am throwing a two day old red delicious at your head 🫵
Best apple to eat as a snack (not to cook with)
Honeycrisp
Sugarbee
Gala
Pink lady
Cosmic crisp
Fuji
Granny Smith
Red delicious
Golden delicious
Braeburn
Something else
I don’t eat apples/I haven’t tried enough to make a judgement
her voice was as silky as silken tofu. but her words were as firm as extra firm tofu
masks and helmets that hides someone's face in such a way that they become the face themselves my beloved
these are all creatures to me
Angel of War, angular and strange, gleaming silver and gold, Angel of Wonder, pure and one-eyed, looking to stars new and old, Angel of Harvest, simple and hidden, bring nature's sweetness to all, Angel of Health, mysterious and fine, beacon when life starts to fall, Angel of the Deep, crooked and cage-like, guide us across the sea, Angel of Solace, protect us from evil, lead us to where we are free.
Was inspired by the previous post a while back, and had been working on this on and off for a long while.
You can see the full-resolution versions on My Patreon.
I love all of these. The angel of the the deep's wings are canvas, held up by an anchor. The angel of war's wings are blades, and its shield is a coffin. The angel of solace is a mutant, its arms deforming into wings. Geiger counter in hand, it guides us through the danger only it knows. Was this angel once a man? Corrupted now beyond hope, he can at least save others from the same fate.
this shit is so incredibly cool that i cannot and refuse to attempt to properly articulate it
SANTA THE UNION MAN 😭😭
Cannot FUCKING stand when my loose leaf tea says to add tea in tablespoons instead of teaspoons. I'm sorry, bitch. Am I making tea or am I making a table. Let me double fucking check.

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it's very frustrating that when you do something mature---something that really demonstrates how much you've grown as a human being and adult---no full orchestra immediately appears in your kitchen to play verdi's triumphal march and/or an arrangement of tina turner's "the best" at top volume.
Hired a moving company and they sent four strong, strapping, beautiful lads to my house to disassemble my furniture and move all my things. I loved them. I got them pizza. They told me moving company gossip. I missed them one minute after they left. My moving lads. Come back to me. You're so strong and so well trained in safe lifting
I miss my moving men they took such good care of me and they were so handsome and beautiful and strong and efficient and they wrapped all my furniture up in plastic and they loved that I got pizza for them and they knew how to safely drive the big big truck. Come back to me moving men
Moving men please come move me in your big strong arms in a way that complies with local safety regulations and the company's values
One of the men had a dangling earring and a stud, so I told him I liked his earrings. So he told me about how when he first got his ears pierced, he lost a stud and had to borrow an earring from his girlfriend to keep the hole from closing up. Well the only one she had to lend him was a dangling pink fuzzy duck. And everyone made fun of him for wearing it until they realized he didn't give a fuck what they thought. So now he always wears one stud and one dangling earring.
He told me this story while manhandling my entire couch. And I'm supposed to be normal about this? I'm bisexual