Screaming into the Dark.

Happy one year anniversary to the ending of my absolute fav Star Wars show. I can not believe the Bad Batch ended a year ago. Like how?

This show means so much to me and I will forever be grateful that it exists. Cause I’m so happy that it does. From the amazing compelling characters to the addictive stories, the bad batch is in my opinion, one of the best Star Wars shows. Thank you for giving us clone force 99.

Truncated text of tweet from MrPitBull, Mar 11, 2026:

She kept finding women in laboratory photographs from the 1800s. Then she read the published papers—and every single woman had vanished. Someone had erased them from history.

Yale University, 1969.

Margaret Rossiter was a graduate student studying the history of science. She was one of very few women in her program.

Every Friday afternoon, students and faculty gathered for beers and informal conversation. One week, Margaret asked a simple question: "Were there ever any women scientists?"

The faculty answered firmly: No.

Someone mentioned Marie Curie. The group dismissed it—her husband Pierre really deserved the credit.

Margaret didn't argue. But she also didn't believe them.

So she started looking.

She found a reference book called "American Men of Science"—essentially a Who's Who of scientific achievement. Despite the title, she was shocked to discover it contained entries about women. Botanists trained at Wellesley. Geologists from Vermont.

There were names. There were credentials. There were careers.

The professors had been wrong.

But Margaret's discovery was just the beginning. Because as she dug deeper into archives across the country, she found something far more disturbing.

Photograph after photograph showed women standing at laboratory benches, working with equipment, listed on research teams.

But when she read the published papers, the award citations, the official histories—those same women had disappeared. Their names were missing. Their contributions erased.

It wasn't random. It was systematic.

Women who designed experiments watched male colleagues publish results without giving them credit. Women whose discoveries were assigned to supervisors. Women listed in acknowledgments instead of as authors. Women passed over for awards that went to male collaborators who contributed far less.

Margaret realized she was witnessing a pattern that stretched across centuries.

Women had always been present in science. The record had simply pushed them aside.

She needed a name for what she was documenting.

In the early 1990s, she found it in the work of Matilda Joslyn Gage—a 19th-century suffragist who had written about this exact phenomenon in 1870.

In 1993, Margaret published a paper formally naming it: The Matilda Effect.

The term captured something that had been hidden in plain sight for generations. Once you knew the term, you saw it everywhere.

Her dissertation became a lifelong mission.

For more than 30 years, Margaret researched and wrote her landmark three-volume series: Women Scientists in America. She examined letters, institutional policies, individual careers. She gathered undeniable evidence that women in science had been consistently under-credited and structurally excluded.

Her work faced resistance. Many dismissed women's history as political rather than academic. Others insisted she was exaggerating.

Margaret didn't argue emotionally. She presented data. Documented cases. Patterns repeated across decades and institutions.

Eventually, the evidence became undeniable.

Her research helped restore recognition to scientists who had been erased:

Rosalind Franklin, whose X-ray work revealed DNA's structure—credit went to Watson and Crick.

Lise Meitner, who explained nuclear fission—omitted from the Nobel Prize.

Nettie Stevens, who discovered sex chromosomes—received little credit.

Cecilia Payne-Gaposchkin, who discovered stars are made of hydrogen—initially dismissed.

And countless others whose names had nearly vanished.

Margaret changed the narrative. Science was no longer just the story of solitary male geniuses. It became a story of collaboration that included women who had been written out.

I did it. I finally finished the collection after a whole year.

Bonus scene:

"The mission… Free. The mission."

"Brother, what mission?"

Ramadasa sp., family Noctuidae, Malaysia

This moth has no common name in English.

Introducing Crosshair!!!

Crosshair grew up in the Bronx, New York, the son of New Zealand immigrants. His family had brought Māori with them (the indigenous Polynesian language of the Māori people) and it was as much a part of the household as English was. He and his three brothers were quadruplets, and they grew up a few streets over from their older cousins Echo and Fives, who were twins. Multiple births seemed to run in the family.

Their parents died while the brothers were still in high school, leaving them to raise their younger sister on their own. In 1942, the draft age dropped from 21 to 18, and all four brothers were conscripted into the Army at once. She was around nine years old when they left. All four brothers listed her as their emergency contact, because there wasn’t anyone else.

They didn’t stay in the general ranks for long. Captain Rex noticed that the brothers each brought something distinct to the table. One handled demolitions. One could work out a technical problem faster than most people could identify it. One kept the other three pointed in the same direction. And Crosshair shot things that needed shooting, at distances that shouldn’t have been possible. They also spoke fluent Te Reo Māori, which was not a language enemy forces were likely to crack. Rex flagged them for the Office of Strategic Services, and the OSS agreed. The four brothers were designated the 99th OSS Operational Group: a small, self-contained unit built around their particular mix of skills. Among themselves, they called it the Bad Batch.

After the war, Crosshair spent a fair amount of time at the Copacabana. He’d found that a billiards table was a reasonable place to make money. This was, of course, enabled by his steady hands, good read on angles, and enough patience to let the other guy think he had a chance. It wasn’t so different from what he’d done during the war. Just quieter, and significantly more lucrative.

High quality art images, references, and taglist under the cut! ~

based on Tech's shrimp posture and Cross probably seeing shrimp colours

Tech has seen firsthand the two do this exact thing.

Bonus Sketch: