My Blog

Algebra: "if I need X number of Y by Z strips, how much fabric do I need with a small but comfortable margin for error if the fabric is 42" wide?"

Geometry: Quilting!

Made an anime friendly version of this meme. Happy release day! :)

heart locket gif maker

minecraft advancement maker

minecraft logo font text generator w/assorted textures and pride flags

windows error message maker (win1.0-win11)

FromSoftware image macro generator (elden ring Noun Verbed text)

image to 3d effect gif

vaporwave image generator

microsoft wordart maker (REALLY annoying to use on mobile)

Reblog this to give The Librarian a banana*

humans: we’re going to plug two of them together and see if we go twice as fast

vsa: last time we gave you a warp core you threw it into a sun to see if the sun would go twice as fast

humans: hahaha yeah

humans: it did tho

vsa: IT EXPLODED

Impulsive, passionate to a fault, the social structures they build to try and regulate this hotheadedness ironically creates even greater levels of sheer bull-headedness. Even their “cooler” heads take action in months or weeks.

vulcan science academy: get what

klingons: you vulcans are a bunch of stuffy prisses but you’re also tougher, stronger, and smarter than humans in every single way

klingons: why do you let them run your federation

vulcan science academy: look

vulcan science academy: this is a species where if you give them two warp cores they don’t do experiments on one and save the other for if the first one blows up

vulcan science academy: this is a species where if you give them two warp cores, they will ask for a third one, immediately plug all three into each other, punch a hole into an alternate universe where humans subscribe to an even more destructive ideological system, fight everyone in it because they’re offended by that, steal their warp cores, plug those together, punch their way back here, then try to turn a nearby sun into a torus because that was what their initial scientific experiment was for and they didn’t want to waste a trip. 

vulcan science academy: they did that last week. we have the write-up right here. it’s getting published in about six hundred scientific journals across two hundred different disciplines because of how many established theories their ridiculous little expedition has just called into question. also, they did turn that sun into a torus, and no one actually knows how. 

vulcan science academy: this is why we let them do whatever the hell they want. 

“but why” said the one Vulcan in the room.

“because that would fucking rule” said the humans, high-fiving each other and slamming cans of 24th-century Red Bull.

Like: “Guys, we totally wouldn’t do that!” But this always fails to get much traction, because the authors can always say: “You totally did.”

“That was ONE TIME.” 

There’s that movie where humans invented vaccines by just testing them on people. Or the one about those two humans who invented powered flight by crashing a bunch of prototypes. Or the one about electricity. 

And human historians go, “Oh, uh, this is historically accurate, but also kind of boring.” To which the producers respond: “How is doing THIS CRAZY THING boring????????”

“what is the word ‘fuck’ for,” the innocent young vulcans want to know. “surely there are more logical intensity modifiers.”

“yeah, you’d think so,” say the weary, jaded vulcan professors. “you’d really fucking think so.”

The Borg can adapt to the brilliant millitary strategies of the Romulan Star Empire, the Klingons and even the cold logical intellectual prowess of the vulcans

Which like. They still fly. They do the do. But the equation that would explain why they fly is a literally still unsolved.

The Vulcans are horrified when they find out. They turn to the nearest human historian/scientist and say “please tell me you knew the equation for a warp core when you made one”

The Human says, “we’d just about figured it out when you lot came by! anyway, it worked, didnt it? don’t have to know how or why as long as it works.”

No wonder Vulcan civilization took 1,500 years to fully recover! They’re so meticulous and anal about proper procedure and exact formulas that experimentation must’ve been reduced to a snails pace.

“Yeah, nah,” someone says to you. They mean ‘no’. “Yeah, nah,” someone else says to you. They mean ‘yes’. Up is down. Summer is winter. Birds can’t fly. Meanings have no meaning.

A local university encourages you to ‘take your place in the world’. Because you don’t have one. The outside world shows you maps every day. Your place isn’t there. People question if it ever was.

 It’s not that hot outside. You can sit outside for hours. The layers of skin that allow you to feel things will burn in the first few minutes. Then you can sit outside for eternity.

Everything’s always shaking. You’ve finally stopped caring whether it’s the void opening up beneath or you or your father jiggling his leg.

As you drive through the countryside, you pass a cow. You pass a sheep. You pass more cows. More sheep. It’s the same animals from before. They’re following you. They know you’ll follow them eventually.

They call it the Land of the Long White Cloud. It’s an outdated translation. There was no word back then for the mysterious, unidentified entity that once hovered over the country. You will when it comes back.

There’s always sea spray on your windscreen. You don’t live near the beach. The window washers at the traffic lights don’t live by the beach either. You chalk it up to the Number 8 wire mentality.

“She’ll be right.” Who is she?  How is she still alive? What if she’s wrong for once? Where is she? How do you know she’s alright? No-one ever answers you.

“Call me loyal,” sings Dave Dobbyn. The public refuses, so he keeps singing. “I’ll say you’re loyal too.” His pleas continue to be ignored. No-one wants to bargain with Dave.   

The rate at which Shortland Street kills characters has caught up and overtaken the birth rate of the country. It will soon be your turn. 

Someone makes fun of Australia. You laugh. You keep laughing. The whole room is laughing.  You can’t stop laughing. The more you panic that you can’t stop, the more you laugh. Someone mentions the underarm bowling incident. The laughter stops abruptly.

Every time you half-heartedly mumble the first verse of the national anthem, a Maui’s dolphin dies. Yes, you. Learn the words. We’re running out of time.

You don’t follow politics, but still know that Peter Dunne’s hair is sentient and has been controlling his body for the last 30 years. It’s better than the alternative.

Your world is binary.  It makes things harder. Black or white. Marmite or Vegemite. Cadbury’s or Whittaker’s. Union or League. North Island or South Island. Beef or lamb. Vege crisps or a Cookie Time cookie. You long for a third option, but that third option fired John Campbell. You’re stuck.  

Community, Remedial Chaos Theory (2011)