Toponym

themarchrabbit:

onsheka:

thepioden:

gessorly:

tyrror:

ruingaraf:

themarchrabbit:

Seriously, it kills me when I see people hold scientists up as pinnacles of logic and reason.

Because one time the professor I was interning for got punched in the face by another professor, because mine got the funding, and told the other professor his theory was stupid.

This same professor told me to throw rocks to scare the “stupid fucking crabs” into moving so we could count them properly.

SCIENCE

thank you

this is one of the best comments this post has recieved

I have witnessed:

Two professors hiding around a corner and snickering, “Shhh, here she comes!” While a female professor approached and, when she finally found them, she proceeded to scream while pointing from one to the other, “You! I called your office but you weren’t there! So I tried to call YOUR office to figure out where HE was but YOU weren’t there!”

Two grad students standing outside a closed and locked door yelling, “Come out of the damn office. You haven’t left for days. If you didn’t have a couch in there I’d be concerned as to where you were sleeping!”

A religious studies professor apologizing for being late to class because, “security stopped me because I’m dressed like a hobbit”

Watched a professor snort the results of my experiment to determine if I had the right final compound.

Two archeology professors toss priceless fossilized teeth back and forth in an attempt to figure out who is smarter by “guessing the type of tooth and species of animal before it lands”

Multiple fully degreed individuals throw dry ice at one another in an attempt to be first to use the lab/get that piece of equipment/or change the iPod song.

A genetics professor build furniture out of stacks of paper and planks of wood because she is that far behind in grading papers/responding. One of the impromptu furniture pieces housed a fish tank.

I could go on but I think that covers the larger portion of the insanity…

Every time it comes around on my dash, it gets better.

I have had a professor buy a huge fuckoff bottle of rum during fieldwork in Costa Rica and let the undergrads get wasted because “you’re not underage in Costa Rica and we’ll be up all night with the bats anyway!”

- Same professor hung a bat from her headlamp and wore it as a decoration for an entire night. 

- A whole swarm of older women - and these are women with PhDs and world-renown bat experts, the bigwigs - all, to a woman, go to the formal charity dinner at an international research symposium in Toronto in late October dressed in skimpy Batgirl costumes. Because Halloween was that weekend, you see.

- At a different conference, a professor get blackout drunk and pass out on the side of the road. 

- “Yeah, we have to say we did it properly for the grant but to be really honest, Miracle-gro works better.”

- Teaching lab: we had liquid nitrogen for a demo, and after class the professor, the other TA, and I spent a good two hours freezing and breaking things in it. 

a chemistry class begins with 30 students nine months later just six of us left sitting on tables dipping paper into contaminated chemicals to see what happens when we burn it teacher making idle suggestions while he marks our work

"go to the fume hood thing, yeah now put some potassium in chlorine" can i burn the results sir? "fuck it sure whatever its tainted anyway"

The prof I’m working for just asked me if I knew how to pick a lock, and when I responded “yes” she replied, “see, this is why I hire the former delinquents instead of the suck-ups. You’re actually useful.”

I then let her into her office.

enigmaticagentalice:

um

faeries-in-the-dreadfort:

Tina Guo: The Rains of Castamere

An arrangement of the haunting “Rains of Castamere” played on Cello and the traditional Chinese Erhu.

ingridsbergman:

Emma Thompson’s Best Actress BAFTA for Sense & Sensibility

valkyriestrikeofthelashatterdome:

gotterdammerungs:

                             (x)

And then in the future, everything changes. He’s been through it all, of course-watched humanity rediscover the heavens above them, watched them begin to wonder what’s out there. He cheered with the rest of the world when they landed on the moon, cheered as if he’d found Isla de la Muerta all over again, because there was something new. New treasure, a new horizon. But then they stop going, stop exploring, and he goes back to riding tankers across the rising seas. So he’s surprised when one day he wakes up from a night with his bottle of rum (his truest companion), and hears that there’s colonies on Mars now, and they need ships to supply them. He spends the next decade crafting new identities, learning all he can to qualify for the job, and after several tries (and even more faked deaths-this immortality thing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be in the age of the inerasable digital self) he gets it. The ships go nearly constantly now, the needs of the terraforming project creating an unbroken line of vessels from Mars to Earth and back again. “Show me that horizon,” he whispers to himself, his personal prayer of thanksgiving, each time they leave orbit, because the worlds, the stars are in motion and it’s never the same, with nearly three years for a round trip the ports are always different, even if they keep the old names. And finally one trip something goes wrong with the reactor, they’re too low on power and have to deploy the backups, and Jack (Lucky Jack, they call him, for he survives too many things he shouldn’t but science has yet to accept that maybe some things weren’t old wives’ tales after all) goes out for the spacewalk to bring up the solar panels. And as they rise, geometric patterns black against the sun’s glare, he’s struck by a powerful sense of déjà vu, because it’s all here-wind and sails, a ship beneath his feet and stars above his head, horizon in all directions. He wonders, for a moment, if the reason he’s still here is because the universe wanted a witness, to mourn the end of one age of exploration, and rejoice in the birth of the next.

batman-mudafuka:

Cats are literally the cutest nerds ever

hamantash:

i want jewish wizards fighting against the nazis and branding them with swastikas, taking revenge for the slaughter of the six million and fighting in the resistance. i want rabbi wizards in their shetls, making the menorah glow in the dark, even when things were so terrible that they couldnt afford candles because they were essentially trapped. i want the jewish wizards to lead mass rescue missions for the jews in the camps and to fight against the shower of bullets with a shield, with a magic shield marked with the magen david. i want the jews to become David once more, to fight against the Nazi Goliath and prevail with miracles. 

i want hebrew spells. holy magic written in the language of a lost people, exiled from their land. i want kabbalah and i want the zohar to be mentioned, dammit. i want the zohar to be the textbook for jewish wizards and old rabbis with twinkling eyes and i want the golem to rise up from the clay riverbanks of poland and defend its people from the pervading rumors of the blood libel. i want the witch of endor explained and acknowledged as the first necromancer (a WOMAN, no less) and i want rachel and leah being known as expert herbalists because of their expertise with mandrakes and knowing all their magical properties.

i want joseph, the king of dreams, to be known as the greatest of all seers. i want all the prophets to become seers. some willing, some unwilling (cough jonah cough), but all carry out the word of god and the word of the future. i want the arithmancy of the gematria, the deep analysis of the hidden codes of the torah. i want muslim wizards and jewish wizards to excitedly compare commentaries and ideas on the kabbalah during the golden age and celebrate ramadan and hanukkah around the same time with love and respect for each other’s culture. 

i want enchanted violins playing klezmer music and levitated chairs carrying the lucky bar mitzvah/bat mitzvah on their special day, of chicken soup being listed as a viable healing potion. i want a frying pan that erupts with latkes with a whispered spell from its owner. i want a yad to be the treasured silver wand of a rabbi- none of that wood, no. it’s too easy to burn, like the torahs of Kristallnacht, their parchment turning into smoke in the sky. i want a silver yad with the finger of god pointing to the heavens and the hebrew words of ‘I AM THAT I AM’ inscripted on it. 

Natasha + Guilt