hippocrates460
Hippo 🦛
2K posts
She - late 20s - On AO3 and Pillowfort. Any recommendations are appreciated.
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
hippocrates460 · 2 days ago
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I believe everything should be offline, I believe that every time something that is not your internet browser (and I'm being generous here) should have a big red alert that says THIS PIECE OF SHIT PROGRAM NEEDS TO CONNECT TO THE INTERNET AND REQUESTS YOUR CONSENT TO DO THIS SPECIFIC THING, and you had to touch a big red button and it would disconnect as soon as you close it.
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hippocrates460 · 6 days ago
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Zoozve, my beloved
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hippocrates460 · 8 days ago
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Same goes for the people who then apply these laws by saying “but if we let YOU visit your loved one in the hospital, everyone else will take advantage!”
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The Shirley Exception
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hippocrates460 · 12 days ago
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Among car enthusiasts of a certain persuasion, there exists a yearning that cannot be satisfied by regular automakers. The hoi polloi are perfectly happy with their normal, pedestrian automobiles. The elites opt for penis-shaped zoom-zooms that cost more than a house. Those of us in the middle, who have an eternal love for going very fast for very little money, are abandoned. And as we all know, being in the self-described middle is the same thing as being morally correct at all times.
Back in the 50s, people really wanted to go fast for no money. It's what started the whole world of hot rodding. And they had lots of good options, thanks to the government suddenly having a ton of warplanes that weren't currently engaged in a war. Cool plane superchargers, engines, belly tanks – anything that weird nerds could get their hands on – got shoved into cars in the quest to go fast. And automakers were run by those weird nerds, back then.
Sure, a lot of them were putatively "run" by big-dollar, humanity-crushing fascists, but the real fun, in the research and development divisions? That was happening with the same hot rodder nutjobs who would go down to the beach after work and do skids in a car mostly made out of a bathtub, until the cops showed up. And in the late 50s, what those very same nutjobs were excited about were turbines.
See, turbine engines were getting exciting then. It was the jet age. Clean, efficient, very loud, screaming jets. Not inefficient, old clangy pistons with their oiled bearings and pitiful triple-digit horsepower. No, it was time to go fast, and so they dutifully started cramming turbines into street cars. Did it make sense? No. Were any of these cars even close to being practical? Absolutely not. Was it completely bad-ass? Yes.
Unfortunately, it was at this time that the nascent development of "management science" began to metastasize in the Western world. A lot of bosses came down and saw a screaming, shrieking demon burning nineteen litres of gasoline per minute, bolted loosely into a Ford Deluxe Coupe, and they asked: how many cupholders this got? Not having a sufficient answer that didn't start with "fuck you," these same bosses then began dismantling the apparatus that held a promise of a glorious, high-pitched-whining future of thirty-thousand-rpm engines.
There is still hope. For instance, things containing turbines get crashed all the time. Once the FAA is done looking at them to figure out what they fucked up (usually: aircraft contacted the earth too soon,) they don't really pay too much attention to what happens to the carcass. If you're quick, you can cut through the fence and get ahold of your very own helicopter turbine with which to start the project. And what do you use to slice through that fence and retrieve your futurist prize? A thirty-thousand-rpm battery-operated cut-off wheel, of course. Thanks, weird nerds.
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hippocrates460 · 12 days ago
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Everybody thinks my neighbour is doing some sort of Nightmare Before Christmas thing every year, but really they just don't feel like doing two separate front yard displays for Hallowe'en and Christmas, so come November 1st they stick a Santa hat on the skeleton and call it a day.
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hippocrates460 · 12 days ago
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MY TA SHOT SOMEONE IN THE FOOT AND THE PROFESSOR WAS SO FUCKING QUICK LMAOOO
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hippocrates460 · 18 days ago
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Thinking about something
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hippocrates460 · 26 days ago
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i know we're all sick of self-care being a marketing tactic now, but i don't think a lot of us have any other concept of self-care beyond what companies have tried to sell us, so i thought i'd share my favorite self-care hand out
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brought to you by how mad i just got at a Target ad
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hippocrates460 · 30 days ago
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Can you find a GHOST among the skeletons? Happy Halloween!
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hippocrates460 · 1 month ago
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hippocrates460 · 1 month ago
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There’s this guy in town who owns this little house, and a while back he rescued a street dog that was going to get put down. Turned out she was pregnant.
Problem is, he has mental health & drug issues and couldn’t afford to get them all spayed & neutered, so now there are 6 grown bitches with 15 puppies total, and they’ve dug under his fence in multiple places but he can’t afford to fix it so they go roaming all around town. (When I say can’t afford it, I mean his house is currently running on a generator because he can’t afford his electric bill.) He’s also a day laborer so he cannot take multiple full days off work to take them to the vet an hour away. He’s in a really rough spot.
He’s not a bad person. He’s just overwhelmed.
And this little conservative town with 6 churches for 300 people, have they tried to help their neighbor? Have they adopted the puppies he’s been trying to give away? Have they offered resources?
NOPE! All they wanna do is talk shit about him and complain about the dogs but never lift a finger of their own. And they come to his house to yell at him and cuss him out about the dogs, which does not exactly engender in him a cooperative attitude, as you might imagine.
So after a while of this going on, my mom gets fed up with all the NIMBY bullshit and starts talking to the guy, because she’s done animal rescue for 20-odd years and has Connections. He’s resistant at first, but when he realizes she’s not being an asshole to him on account of his addiction or the dogs, he decides to let her help.
She gets to work organizing and networking. Finds a non-profit that will cover vaccinations, spay/neuter, and flea treatments for all the dogs. Talks the next-door neighbor into paying for materials to fix the fence, since this guy can do the work of it himself. Gets him in touch with another non-profit that will adopt out the adult dogs.
Less than 2 weeks after she decided to do something, all puppies have been to the vet, 10 puppies and 4 adult dogs have been adopted out, and the second non-profit is coming by next week to pick up the remaining 7 dogs to ship them out for adoption.
I’ve learned a lot of things from my mom—some good, some bad—but I think the most important positive message she lives as an example of is this: sometimes, when something needs done and no one else is willing, you gotta stand up and say “I’ll do it.”
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hippocrates460 · 1 month ago
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*doom music starts to play* I actually kindof like scheduling these kinds of appointments now...
but seriously Fellas, don't forget to schedule a pap smear every couple of years just in case. If you still have a cervix you can still get cervical cancer. ilu
this has been a psa
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hippocrates460 · 1 month ago
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hippocrates460 · 1 month ago
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hippocrates460 · 1 month ago
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Equal opportunity benefits can be far-reaching
https://twitter.com/sarahmei/status/818682610712866817
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hippocrates460 · 2 months ago
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I am learning to imagine the future:
My sycamore tree began life in the gravel at the edge of a parking lot. If trees can feel pain, that is a painful, unlucky death. I carefully dug it up and put it in a pot I made out of a disposable cup.
Hello small one. This world may be cruel, but I will not be.
I decided to take care of it, not expecting it to survive, and when my sycamore tree unfurled one tiny leaf and then another, it chiseled a tiny foothold in my terrified brain, the kind of brain that doesn't remember a world before the atomic bomb and before 9/11.
I googled the lifespans of trees. My neurons had to stretch and expand to accommodate what I learned: My sycamore tree may live five hundred years. It's hard to think something so big. In twenty years, my baby sycamore tree will be three stories tall, and the home of many creatures. In five years, my sycamore tree will be taller than I am. In one year, it will be summer.
There's this concept called sense of foreshortened future where people who have lived through trauma can't conceptualize a future for themselves because deep down they don't expect to survive, When I look forward, all I see is fire and death, melting ice and burning sky. We were raised Evangelical. All we see is Judgment Day, except there is no heaven.
But now there is a tiny gap in the wall, a crack in the door of my cell
and on the other side, I see a tree
There is, in the future, a great old sycamore tree, full of clean winds and the stir of a thousand wings. A hundred years from now. Fifty years from now. There will be forests in that world. There will be a world.
It takes courage, but we have to imagine it.
Most tree species can live in excess of three or four hundred years. I think I'm learning something. I think there are ancient voices saying hello small one, touch the dirt and the leaves, for now you are part of something that cannot die
in 2030 I will be thirty years old and the world will not have ended and there will still be hummingbirds, and we will have photos of the stars more beautiful than we can now imagine.
I planted an Eastern Redcedar; they may live nine hundred years. There will be nine hundred years. The people in that time will remember us. Maybe we will meet the aliens (hi aliens!).
I will blow out the candles on many birthday cakes in a world where there are wolves in dark forests far from home. I am learning to imagine the future. I learned recently that elk were reintroduced to the Appalachian Mountains after over a hundred years of extirpation, and that they are expanding their range.
That tiny crack I can see through now opens a tiny bit more:
Maybe elk will pass through my hometown, maybe there will be a forest where the pasture is on the high hill that I can see from my home
say it, say it, say it: ten years, thirty years, a hundred years from now
I am learning to imagine the future. There is a crack in the wall of this prison, of this machine, of this darkness, and through it, I see a tree.
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hippocrates460 · 2 months ago
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>video claiming to be essay/history on a topic
>ask them if its analysis or summary
>they dont understand
>pull out detailed chart explaining what's analyzing the ideas and motives behind a text and what is just presenting information without thinking about it
>"it's a good video, ma'am"
>watch it
>summary
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