Really Bad Idea

the hot chocolate enjoyer when you ask where all the milk is going so fast:

i’ve seen this user post this photo as a sort of reaction image a couple times now and it makes me laugh every time. because this is the incredibly elusive marbled cat and they really do just have a tendency to look so pitiful, guilty, and empty in the head. so here’s some more photos of them looking like there’s just one marble bouncing around their skull:

I wish I could remember the source, but I once read a sociologist's take that the Victorian era was a complete abberation of human development. It was uniquely weird, never existed before, will likely never exist again.

I feel like the wild combination of Suddenly Having So Much New Technology We Barely Understand and Suddenly Using So Much New Technology We Barely Understand *May* have resulted in such new and novel situations as:

@teaboot this maybe applies to modern times as well

^^^^^^^^

(I am aware I

i followed the comic borderline religiously back in high school until it was cruelly banned on the school laptops and I just couldn't adapt to reading it on mobile because it just wasn't a big enough screen to appreciate it but now im getting my own computer and I couldn't be more excited to work through the backlog. following this blog has given me the most delicious glimpses of things to come and I'm thrilled to be back on the big screen

i'm listening to gathering moss, by robin wall kimmerer, and she is talking about a very odd job she was consigned to do, where an eccentric millionaire recuited her to consult on a "habitat restoration". when she arrives, the job they actually want her to do is to tell them how to plant mosses on the rocks in his garden. he wants it to look like a specific, beautiful wild cliff in the woods nearby, with centuries-old beds of moss growing thick and strong. she tells him it is impossible. such a thing would take decades to accomplish.

This quote really got me: "The owner is a man who loves mosses, and the exercise of power. I have no doubts of his sincerity in wishing to protect them from harm, once they conformed to his landscape design.  But I think you cannot own a thing and love it at the same time. Owning diminishes the sovreignty of a thing, enriching the possessor and diminishing the possessed. If he truly loved mosses more than control, he would have left them alone, and walked each day to see them."