chasinggumdrops

[chasinggumdrops]

Concept I've been stewing on for a while here. I've got a name for it now and I'm calling it the Shot Dog Factor. It's a numerical value, assignable to any internet post, which represents the average number of engagements it needs to reach before someone comes along acting like this post shot their dog.

And for the sake of High Number = More Danger, which feels like the intuitive and sensible read, let's call it the inverse. As in the chance that any given interaction results in a Shot Dog response.

"Hee hee haa haa" type of silly shitpost? Low Shot Dog Factor. Largely safe. A genuine political opinion? Critically high Shot Dog Factor. Guaranteed to elicit such a response if it breaks containment.

As a result of this phenomenon, you see phrasings and circumventions added specifically to lower the Shot Dog factor. Every "now I know this doesn't apply to EVERYONE'S specific situation, but I just think--" about something where the non-specificity was obvious, but OP needed to add that disclaimer to avoid the Shot Dog from someone who thinks it needs to apply to them.

And another--perhaps the most--critical thing to understand about the Shot Dog factor is that 0 is not a valid value. There's a discontinuation at 0. And as such, the Shot Dog limit, as engagement goes to infinity is, in fact, 100%. Any and every post you have ever made, given enough containment breaching, WILL piss someone off in wild ways. You can lower the Shot Dog factor but it is never 0. Sometimes when a post of yours escapes containment, you must simply sit back and accept this reality.

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They tried to skip class.

At least they left something memorable

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outside it is november, and yesterday it felt like it was supposed to be snowing. in boston, november used a winter month, not a fall month. it is supposed to be a chilly month; rarely capping over 45F. it is a sweater-and-jacket month. it is a "maybe a scarf too" month. in my childhood, november meant the sight of snow.

it did not snow. tomorrow the weather predicts a high of 76.

i have spent so many years of my life studying the longterm possibilities of climate change - the culmination of capitalism wreaking havoc on the bodies of people, animals, plants - but every so often i am still shocked by something small and personal.

in a hundred years, when someone goes outside in boston - will they know the feeling of "snow in the air"?

i know it's a learned feeling, a sensation that maybe only longterm experience can teach. a few years ago, i was walking with my friend who had just moved up from the south. i said it smells like snow and she gave me this look like - what the fuck. i said it feels like snow too, which didn't help. she looked up to the bright blue sky and then back at me and then back at the sky. 12 hours later, we had 3 inches. you can just tell if it's going to snow.

except i can't tell, anymore. i stand outside in a tee shirt and watch my dog dance around a lake. we're in a drought and the skin of the water has peeled back twenty meters. the lake is tamed, quiet, puddlelike and sour. my pokemon go app warns there's a weather condition in my area.

my dog gets too hot from running and sits in the water and i want to laugh about his long frame and how awkwardly he sits - and i can't. some simian part of my brain is scratching the walls. it was supposed to snow. it was supposed to snow, but now it's warm instead.

during the last full solar eclipse, the dogs and the birds and the crickets went crazy under utter darkness. we laughed at them then, promising it will all be okay in a moment. but some part of me is still locked in that long night: some animal sensation.

something is wrong, my body says. i can't afford eggs or rent. i go outside to watch a sunset and listen to birdsong. i don't bring a jacket. allergies are killing me this season, allergies i didn't have as a kid. everyone comments that halloween has started to feel strange, offkilter. that it's hard having "holiday cheer." my body thinks it's april, and then it thinks we're in september, and then june.

something is terribly wrong, she whispers. go outside. it is supposed to be snowing.

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Who up stroking they sword while lamenting the social realities.

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hey yall i bought this wand on amazon marketplace do you think its safe to fire

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Since the original OP turned off reblogs, here, exit polls.

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they want you to make fried rice

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I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again but it is absolutely an example of civilizational inadequacy that only deaf people know ASL

“oh we shouldn’t teach children this language, it will only come in handy if they [checks notes] ever have to talk in a situation where it’s noisy or they need to be quiet”

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Scream this is iconic….

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OH YEAH TRANS """""BROS"""" HAVE SO MUCH MALE PRIVILEGE

SHUT THE FUCK UP

DO YOU EVEN REALIZE THAT ONLY A SMALL PERCENTAGE OF TRANS MEN EVEN PASS. MOST OF US ARE NOT ABLE TO GET GENDER AFFIRMING CARE. LISTEN TO TRANS MEN FOR FUCKING ONCE IN YOUR LIFE BEFORE YOU SPEW THIS BILE.

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Actually

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An extremely dumb guid to “Which famous 60’s/70's Jazz man is that?”

1, Is it Piano lead or Bass lead? If piano go to question two. If brass question three.

2, Does the Pianist sound like he’s taken all the acid, or is there a guy making love to a clarinet?

Oh yeah: he’s taken all the acid alight. Is… is he okay? Thelonious Monk.

Oh yeah, some guy is going ham on a clarinet. Dave Burkbeck Quartet.

Neither of the above: Duke Ellington.

3, If brass lead: is it Louis Armstrong? If Yes, it’s Louis Armstrong. If no, question four.

4, Does the Trumpet player make you feel sad? Even, dare I say, Blue?

Almost? Chet Barker

Kind of? Miles Davies.

If no, question five.

5, Is the trumpet player trying to blow your face clean off? Like, actively trying to kill the first row of the audience? Dizzy Gillespie.

It’s brass led, but Sax not Trumpet.  

Okay, question 6, isolate the stings: is Charles Mingus doing what he’s actually paid to do in the back of the ensemble, or is he dicking around and seeing how far a man can take a double bass before his band-mates kill him?

Seems to be playing normally: Charlie Parker

He’s fucking around in F minor, and also that Bari sax is filthy! The Mingus Big band, with Ronnie Cuber on the Sax.

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The day the big Home Depot skeleton arrived.

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fuck this time loop im leaving (walks into a different, worse time loop)

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i love abortion and i love divorce

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Love how granular science can get. Like when you’re in elementary school plants are green because they have clorophyl. Then in midle school plants are green because plant cells each have a few cloroplasts that contain clorophyl. Then in high school plants are green because each cloroplast has a few thousand stacked up sacks called thylakoids that contain clorophyl.