#I’m a designer not a physicist

[kathaynesart]

Can I ask what the formulas are that donnie calculates to make a big boom(??)

Just curious, lolol

Of course! There’s a few different ones in there including the infamous e=mc2, but the majority are meant to calculate the energy released in a nuclear explosion. There’s also the Born–Oppenheimer (BO) approximation (which makes the assumption that the wave functions of atomic nuclei and electrons in a molecule can be treated separately) for the sake of his creative process. Admittedly t’s not 100% accurate (because nuclei and electrons CAN move at the same speed) but Donnie is working on the fly here with nothing but his still limited mortal brain and it has been accurate enough to aid his basic needs in blowing up Krang. So uh… just trust him on it haha!

[blurred-honey]

How do you write your weights? Personally I always use horsepower seconds minutes fortnights per furlongs^2, but that’s just a me thing

[valkyyriia]

Day 11: Reflections in the Waves (of Pleasure)

Kinktober 2024 Prompt List | Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Words: 1947 CW: Mirror Sex, PiV, Creampie, Unprotected Sex, Long-Suffering Sebastian, Voyeurism Pairing: Comte de Saint-Germain x Reader Prompt(s): Mirror Sex | Oral

Notes: The urge to have Sebastian call himself ‘one hell of a butler’ was strong but I did resist. Not enough to keep it out of the notes, though…

NEW: Want to be tagged when I post new fics? Submit the form here!

“The mirror you requested has finally arrived, Monsieur le Comte,” Sebastian said when he entered the room, delivering the day’s mail to the vampire noble as he normally did. “Masters Napoleon and Leonardo helped me bring it upstairs to le Mademoiselle’s room.”

Comte smiled, pleased. “Thank you, as always, Sebastian,” he replied. “I always appreciate your hard work. I’m sure it was heavy.”

Sebastian bowed and left the room, promising to bring up tea shortly. “There’s no need,” Comte said, standing up and shrugging on his long overcoat. “I’ve a few things to do before she gets home, so I’d hate for it to go to waste.”

For the first time this month, you were actually doing your job. You had left with Isaac earlier this morning to do the shopping. Conveniently, the mirror had come in not long after you left, so it was still a surprise.

Comte immediately made his way to your room, pushing open the door to inspect the craftmanship. Normally he’d show a bit more decorum; Comte was a gentleman, truly, and would not deign to enter a woman’s room without knocking first. However, he needed to make sure the piece was up to his lofty standards before you got home to see it.

A few weeks ago, you had made an offhand comment to le Comte about not having a mirror quite long enough to be able to see your shoes with your dress unless you were standing far away, and even then you could barely see due to the distance. Comte’s eyes widened incredulously. How had he not considered that would be an issue? This was a travesty!

Thus, in true Comte de Saint-Germain fashion, he had immediately contacted a metalsmith and commissioned a large, gilded mirror. The thing was truly a work of art; it was nearly large enough to cover an entire wall, and richly decorated in golden filigree and gemstones. The metalsmiths had outdone themselves. The mirror was so grand in its design, it frankly wouldn’t be out of place amongst the treasures of Versailles.

He hoped you would be pleased when you saw it.

Smiling to himself, Comte went to call a carriage. He would meet you in town, treat you to a nice lunch, and bring you home to show you the gift he had gotten you. Maybe he would buy you a few new dresses, too. He had an excuse this time, after all; you needed to try out your new mirror.

Oh, he simply couldn’t wait.

You and Isaac had just finished up the grocery shopping when you heard a familiar tenor call your name from behind.

“Comte?” You asked, turning around, startled. Your eyes were wide, but the smile that broke out across your face was wider when you saw him.

“I thought I would surprise my lovely partner by meeting her in town,” Comte said, walking over to you and kissing your hand in greeting. “It’s good to see you as well, Isaac,” Comte added, turning his smile to the other vampire. “I was going to ask if you’d like to join us for lunch?”

Isaac, true to himself, blushed something fierce. “I thank you, for the offer, but I’ll bring the shopping home. You two have fun.” Before you could so much as protest, the physicist had taken your bags and flagged down a carriage.

You watched him go, feeling somewhat guilty. The guilt was replaced with giddy happiness when Comte tucked your hand into the crook of his elbow. “Allow me to treat you today, ma chérie.”

You finally returned to the mansion a few hours later as the sun was just beginning to set over the woodline. You were somewhat proud of yourself; you had managed to talk Comte down to just four new dresses instead of the ten he had wanted to buy. You had a sneaking suspicion that the vampire had gone ahead and purchased the other six anyway, to be delivered later on, but you would take the small victories when they came.

Comte, ever the gentleman, refused to let you carry a single thing. “What kind of partner would I be if I made you carry the gifts I purchased for you? I’ll not hear a word of it, chérie.”

The guilt you felt before resurfaced when you entered the mansion’s foyer and saw Sebastian dusting the wall sconces.

“Welcome home, Monsieur le Comte, Madame le Comte,” Sebas greeted, adding emphasis to your own name. Your cheeks flushed in a mixture of embarrassment and indignation, the guilt replaced with irritation. Comte chuckled at your side and moved a hand to the small of your back to guide you up the stairs.

“Thank you, Sebas,” Comte said over his shoulder. “We’ll be down for dinner later this evening.”

“Yes, I’m sure you will,” Sebas muttered under his breath. If le Comte heard him, he made no indication of it.

When you had made it to the residential hallway and stopped in front of your door, you knew something was up. Usually, you would join le Comte in his own chambers for the evening since his suite was far more spacious. The only true downside was the way Leonardo would sometimes barge in, though the Italian polymath had taken to knocking before entering as of late.

You briefly wondered why.

Before you could go further down that line of thought, you shook your head. “Abel,” you addressed your partner. “What did you do?”

Le Comte smiled elusively. “Whatever do you mean, ‘what did I do’? I’m afraid you’ll need to be more specific, chérie.”

You rolled your eyes. “You met me in town. Took me to lunch. Bought me more dresses. Let me win an argument over how many dresses you were allowed to buy me.” You raised an eyebrow. “And now we’re back at my room. You never bring me back to my own room unless you’ve plotted something.”

“Don’t I?” Comte asked innocently. “Can’t I spoil my darling partner with a spontaneous date just because I felt like it?”

“You can,” You conceded. “But you don’t.”

Comte just laughed, gesturing to your door. You eyed him suspiciously but obeyed him anyway, opening the door. Immediately, your eyes widened and your jaw dropped. “You didn’t,” you accused, turning back to him. “Really?” You asked.

Comte followed you inside and shut the door behind him, locking it. “You said you couldn’t see your shoes in the other one. That, mon amour, was inexcusable.”

You just shook your head. Two of Comte’s favorite things were spoiling you and fashion. He particularly enjoyed spoiling you with fashion. You supposed you weren’t really surprised that this was something he viewed necessary. You sighed and conceded.

“Thank you, Abel,” you smiled. “It’s beautiful. I suppose this is why you insisted on the dresses?”

“And also why I agreed to only four,” Comte added, pulling you to him for a peck on the lips. “I feared ten would have been far too obvious.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly and leaned in for another kiss, which Comte was all too happy to give. The kisses quickly grew hotter and heavier. You parted your lips and Comte eagerly teased your tongue with his, his hands moving to your hips and pulling you closer. He squeezed your ass and you gasped into his mouth.

Your eyes lazily drifted open and you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. You flushed and pulled away from Comte, your palms flat on his chest. He looked down at you curiously.

You cleared your throat awkwardly before whispering, “the mirror.”

Comte raised an eyebrow.

“I can see us,” you grumbled. He chuckled lowly, sending heat pooling in your belly.

“I hadn’t purchased this mirror with quite that intention in mind, but,” he smiled deviously. “That’s another good use for it.”

Ten minutes later found Comte seated in your desk chair, his front to your back, buried to the hilt inside of you. He had his arms under your knees and was lifting you up and down on his cock. He had spread your legs wide, leaving your cunt on full display in the wall-sized mirror. You bit your lip as he moved you, his length gliding smoothly in and out of your body.

“Look at yourself, chérie. See how beautiful you are when you’re taking my cock?”

Your original hesitance was long gone; instead, your eyes were fixated on the lewd sight of him disappearing within your entrance. Comte’s cock glistened in the candlelight, your slick coating him thoroughly as he sunk deep inside you with each movement.

Your eyes briefly flickered up to the reflection of his face. Comte smiled coyly at you as you did so; the vampire was far more interested in watching your face as you took him, your eyes glazed over in lust and your mouth falling open in pleasure.

His lips drifted to the sensitive flesh underneath your ear and he kissed there. You shuddered, your legs involuntarily falling wider as he did so. Comte chuckled, his breath ghosting over the lobe of your ear. He took the lobe between his blunted teeth, careful to avoid breaking the skin with his fangs. Comte nibbled there before dragging his lips down the side of your neck, his fangs barely grazing the flesh.

You cried out in pleasure as the vampire latched onto your skin, sucking harshly on the flesh there without piercing it. An orgasm ripped through your body like the incoming tide as he slammed you harshly down on his cock. Your eyes focused on where your bodies were joined as he too met his climax, his groan resonating against your skin. You watched as your cunt pulsated, drawing twitch after twitch from Comte’s length. Each pulse of his cock resulted in a flood of warmth deep inside you. He drove himself somehow deeper with a grunt, his sweaty forehead falling against the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

After what felt like an eternity, Comte pressed a kiss to your shoulder and slipped from within you. What followed was a trickle of fluid, a mixture of his own come and your slick, dripping out of you and onto his softening cock. You inhaled sharply.

Comte laughed breathlessly, slowly lowering your legs. “I think we found something new you like, non, ma chérie?”

“Fermez-la,” you snapped at him petulantly.

His laugh just grew louder.

Sebastian knew better. He truly did.

Rather than prepare a full meal, the butler resigned himself to his fate. Steeling himself, he prepared a few cold cut sandwiches and placed them alongside a bottle of Rouge on a silver serving tray. Carrying them upstairs, he repeated his mantra in his head.

All he had to do was leave it outside the door. He didn’t have to see them. He didn’t have to hear them.

He hoped.

He breathed in deeply. He can do this.

He was a fantastic butler. So what if his employer was sleeping with his coworker? He can maintain decorum and -

“Look at yourself, chérie. See how beautiful you are when you’re taking my cock?” Comte’s voice drifted through the crack of the door.

Sebastian swallowed thickly.

Luck was not on his side today.

Sebastian didn’t fancy himself much of a voyeur, but-

He shook his head. No. He was not getting into those thoughts.

He quickly, but neatly, placed the tray outside the door. Standing up and straightening his bowtie, Sebastian retreated back to the safety of the kitchen, pointedly ignoring the tightness in his pants.

So what if he later purchased a smaller, floor-length standing mirror for his own personal use?

Dividers by @/natimiles

Taglist: @natimiles @queengiuliettafirstlady @candiedcoffeedrops @goddesswitchmother @candied-boys

@fang-and-feather @faustianfascination

Want to be added? Submit the form here.

[aliveinacoffin]

Okokokokok, i haven’t asked for a fic in years but could you do a Miguel x Reader where the reader is a spider person who is also physicist from a different universe and it’s like late night coffee talks with miguel in the society.

Raaaaaaaaah i feel like miguel just has such a fucked up sleep schedule, so i think it’d be cute to have someone join him :)

omg yes ofcc this seems so soft wwefhaehjafh you guys mak me mentally ill, you also make me do research like a NERD because I know next to nothing about atoms n nerd shit /lh /j

Coffee For Us

Honestly, running into your scary ass boss at nearly three in the morning almost made you shit bricks, but the second? The third? It almost seemed like he was doing it on purpose.

TW!:none, other than some fluff :)

Divider credits to @cafekitsune!

Requests are still open!!!

You sighed, perching your glasses on top of your head. The only sound that filled the pristine white room was the coffee maker, the steady pour of its hot contents filling you with a familiar peace. You rubbed your eyes hard, black vision filling with stars. You missed your spider senses going off, that familiar tingling in your head ignored. You opened your eyes, blinded by bright artificial blue and blood red filling your sights. The colors made your head swim, and you stumbled back. Gaining your vision back, you were greeted by the sight of the man who was technically your boss, even if he didn't pay you. You flustered immediately, face heating up and snapping wide awake.

"Jesus, I didn't see you there." You sighed, clutching a hand over your heart.

"Sorry." He sighed, rustling through the white cupboards for something.

"It's fine, just late-night jitters you know." You laughed awkwardly, rubbing your arm as you watched him. You knew he worked odd hours, often working overtime more often than not. It was obvious now too, deep eyebags and unshaven stubble on his tanned skin on his face.

"Sure." The coffee pot stopped, signifying it was done creating what it was designed for. You poured yourself a hearty cup, in preparation for the long night ahead of you. You were trying to see if you could create teleportation, because if a man could create cross-dimensional portals then god damn you could create teleportation, atoms be damned. 

Miguel watched you with tired eyes, holding a bright neon pink coffee cup that said ‘IT’S MY GODDAMN BIRTHDAY BITCH!’ in bold black lettering. You snickered while pouring his mug.

“Good choice Sir.” You eyed the cup, before looking back up at him. When you turned away to put the pot back in its place, Miguel took a glance down, sighing when he realized the cup he had picked.

“I don’t know why these cups are even in here.” He sighed, bringing up the drink to his plump lips.

“I think they’re funny.” You shrugged, sipping your cup as well. “Plus, there’s worse ones in there, I’m sure.” You shrugged, looking sound the dark room. After hours, a lot of the lights in the Spider Society were kept off manually to be turned on when needed. When sunrise hit, all the lights would flick on, illuminating the white castle.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that, pinche menso’s can't take anything seriously.” Miguel shook his head, ruffling his peppered hair. His messy hair only looking messier, but it didn’t look unattractive. You looked away, trying not to think such thoughts about your boss.

“I think it’s funny, you shouldn’t take everything so seriously, that doesn’t sound fun at all.” You shook your head, smiling softly as to show you meant no offense.

Miguel snorted in response, turning around to sulk somewhere else. You shrugged, walking your own way back to your workstation. 

A couple of days later, you found yourself in the same situation, seeking out a late-night cup of coffee after a session of going nowhere. Back in the breakroom closest to you, you grabbed an apple and shoved it in your pocket as you started a new pot of coffee.

“That didn’t seem like a bad pot. What a waste.” A voice sighed from behind you, and turned around, relaxing when you saw it was Miguel.

“It was cold and sitting you for god knows how long.” You sniffed, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

“You’ve never heard of a microwave?” Miguel shook his head, blindly reaching out to grab another cup.

“Gross, absolutely disgusting.” You laughed slightly, shaking your head as you gave him an incredulous look. He merely shrugged, leaning on the white counter as he listened to the rhythmic drip drip drip of the coffee. You saw his eyes wander to the bulge in your lab coat, and you grabbed the apple, showing it off to him.

“It’s not good for you to eat so late.” He reprimanded, shaking his head.

“It’s not for eating,” You shook your head, tossing the fruit in the air and catching it in one swift movement. “It’s for experimenting.” You smirked, putting it back in your large pocket and shuffling around your other pocket to fish out a pen and notebook.

“Experimenting what?” Miguel asked because even as smart and involved with the society as he was, he couldn’t be involved with every experiment and test the spiders did.

“Teleportation!” You smiled, opening your notebook to him, and he tried to read over your crazy writing and decipher your excited doodles.

“I already did that.” He was hunched over, arms crossed while he leaned over the desk to read your writing. His eyes flicked up to you, bright red irises watching your reaction.

You rolled your eyes, uncrossing your own arms to let them fall uselessly at your side.

“Dimensional teleportation. That’s super long and not exactly easily done. What I want is to make it as quick as a button, to teleport from one side.” You sidestepped, only moving a couple of feet to the right of you. “To the other.”

He hummed, raising his eyebrows as he leaned up back to his full terrifying height. 

“Well, good luck with that. I had an AI to help me with the goober, I can’t imagine how long it will take on your own.” The coffee pot was now half full.

“It’s actually going surprisingly well. At first, I tried doing cool like, disappearing effect thing, since it looked cooler and it was like a video game, but then it opened up a whole new world of questions. What would happen to your body? Was a new one being created? What would happen to one’s memories? So now I’m trying to make it sort of like a door. Where I infuse the technology with the watch, to make it easier for us to carry around. As to the how I’m still trying to work out the kinks, for now, I can open a two-way portal. Like walking through a blanket to another place. But anything I open the ‘door’ dies on its way out. I’ve turned like, ten apples to mush at this point, and if I’m going to be honest, it’s driving me insane.” You laughed, catching your breath after your long and nonsensical rant.

At this point, the coffee pot was full, and Miguel was pouring himself a cup of the hot liquid. Still, despite your slightly crazed rambling, he was attentive paying attention. He poured your empty cup, making unbroken eye contact with you. 

“Sounds interesting, I could help you out one day if you don’t mind.” He shrugged, pushing himself off the counter. He stayed still, staring you down while you blushed.

“I-if you want to! I don’t mind at all.” Your eyes flickered down to look anywhere else but his handsome face, and you found yourself deliriously laughing at his choice of cup. Miguel looked down, sighing in defeat at the sight. 

It as a plain white cup, with the words “Slap my ass like a drum papi’ on it.

“Seriously, when will they grow up.” He sighed, taking a sip on his way out. 

“Hopefully ever!” You called out, leaving the opposite way as him t continue your adventure.

You were so close, you just knew it. The next night, you found yourself in the same position as yesterday. Making a cup of coffee late at night. This time, you had simply taken the whole fruit bowl, not wanting to waste another moment of your precious time. The teleporter was slowly but surely coming together. After months of pouring blood, sweat, and tears into the project, you knew you were on the verge of a breakthrough. 

“Are you still working on your teleporter?” Miguel's familiar voice rumbled from behind you, but you didn’t bother to look up from your notebook. You had set up your phone in a way so that you could continue your nonsensical notes, hand moving faster than lighting as you jotted down whatever was in your mind.

“I never stopped working.” You rasped, the sound of your voice evidence of your exhaustion.

“Oh.” He sounded taken aback. “Why not? You need as much rest as you can to be at one hundred percent.” Hypocrite.

“I’m so close, I can feel it.” You shook your head, rocking on the balls of your feet as excitement shot through you.

“How?” He asked, and you could hear the click! of cups as he searched for a coffee mug.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged shaking your head. “Spider-sense?” You twitched your nose as you started a new sketch, a diagram of how to fully complete the damn thing.

“That’s stupid.” He deadpanned, and you looked up, back cracking as you fully stood up straight.

“You’re just jealous you don’t have any.” You stuck your tongue out, flexing your stiff fingers. He raised his eyebrows at that, and let out a small chuckle.

“Sure, we’ll go with that.” He rolled his eyes, crouching down to fish out a snack from the bottom drawer.

You shrugged, going back to review what you had just written down. You heard the cabinet shut, and shuffling to the side of you, bu you paid no mind.

“That’s wrong.” A blue finger popped into view, tapping on one of the equations you had put down.

“What? How?” You looked up at Miguel. Not backing out where he had stepped into your space. You always thought he would be cold, his suit would probably suck up any warmth he emitted. But in actuality, he was very warm. He wasn’t swelteringly hot, instead, he was cozy warm, like a calm camp fire. He smelt like expensive cologne and slightly of sweat, but somehow the two scents intermingled into a pleasant musk. Like a worn shirt that could be washed, but didn’t need to be.

“You carried the X when you should’ve solved for it, then multiplied the answer when you should’ve halved it.” Miguel explained, moving his finger away, but not himself. His face was uncovered from the neck up, giving you a full view of his handsome face. His fangs poked out barely from behind his lips, crooked teeth just visible.

Oh, thank you sir.” You breathed, attention split between his mouth and his gorgeous eyes.

“You don’t have to call me sir, Miguel is fine.” He breathed back, copying your movement. Neither of you moved from each other's spot. It wasn’t as if this was your first time interacting, you and Miguel have had many run in’s in the past, and he seemed to yell at you slightly less than the others. But you two hadn’t really had personal one on one time with each other, and it seemed like the more you had them, the more you two seemed to be magnetized to each other.

“Thank you, Miguel.” You cleared your throat, and the two of you stepped back, faces warming with the realization of what just happened.

“Of course.” He nodded stiffly, and the coffee pot dinged, breaking the awkward silence.

He poured you a cup first, then himself. You laughed when you saw what he grabbed this time.

It was a cup with cat girls all over it, their coverage varying from girl to girl. They all said different things, ranging from just a simple ‘Meow!’ to ‘Please pet me everywhere Nyaa~!’

“Oh my god, whose cup even is that!” you covered your mouth as you laughed.

“I have no idea, and I don’t want to know.” Miguel rolled his eyes, a deep frown on his face. His eyes flickered back to you, watching you with soft eyes as you laughed at him. You wiped away the tears in your eyes, your face hurting from the wide smile on your face.

“If you really are as close as you think you are, I’d be willing to help you.” He offered, shrugging one shoulder while he avoided eye contact.

“Hmm? Oh, yes! Please! I just know I’m almost done.” You made a pinching motion with your fingers, inching them together. He nodded, walking over to the main table and grabbing a bowl of fruit.

“Alright.” He smiled softly, letting you lead the way. “Let’s figure this out.” You both left the dark breakroom, coffee pot left mostly empty.

[professor-in-progress]

Engineering is Inherently Political

Okay, yea, seemingly loaded statement but hear me out.

In our current political climate (particularly in the Trump/post-Trump era ugh), the popular sentiment is that scientists and other academics are inherently political. So much of science gets politicized; climate change, abortion, gender “issues”, flat earth (!!), insert any scientific topic even if it isn’t very controversial and you can find some political discourse about it somewhere. However, if you were to ask people if they think that engineering is political, I would bet that 9/10 people would say no. The popular perception of engineering is that it’s objective and non-political. Engineering, generally, isn’t very controversial.

I argue that these sentiments should switch.

At its base level, engineering is the application of science and math to solve problems. Tack on the fact that most people don’t really know what engineering is (hell, I couldn’t even really describe it until starting my PhD and studying that concept specifically). Not controversial, right? We all want to solve the world’s problems and make the world a better place and engineers fill that role! But the best way to solve any problem is a subjective issue; no two people will fully agree on the best way to approach or solve a problem.

Why do we associate science and scientists with controversy but engineers with objectivity? Scientists study what is. It’s a scientist’s job to understand our world. Physicists understand how the laws of the universe work, biologists explore everything in our world that lives, doctors study the human body and how it works, environmental scientists study the Earth and its health, I could go on. My point is that scientists discover and tell us what is. Why do we politicize and fear monger about smart people telling us what they discover about the world?

Engineering, however, has a reputation for being logical, objective, result oriented. Which I get, honestly. It’s appealing to believe that the people responsible for designing and building our world are objective and, for the most part, they are. But this is a much more nuanced topic once you think deeper about it.

For example, take my discipline, aerospace engineering. On the surface, how to design a plane or a rocket isn’t subjective. Everyone has the same goal, get people and things from place to place without killing them (yea I bastardized my discipline a bit but that’s basically all it boils down to). Let’s think a little deeper about the implications though. Let’s say you work for a spacecraft manufacturer and let’s hypothetically call it SpaceX. Your rocket is so powerful that during takeoff it destroys the launch pad. That’s an expensive problem so you’re put on the team of engineers dedicated to solving this problem. The team decides that the most effective and least expensive solution is to spray water onto the rocket and launchpad during takeoff. This solution works great! The launchpad stays intact throughout the launch and the company saves money. However, that water doesn’t disappear after launch, and now it’s contaminated with chemicals used in and on the rocket. Now contaminated water flows into the local environment affecting not just the wildlife but also the water supply of the local community. Who is responsible for solving that issue? Do we now need a team of environmental or chemical engineers to solve this new problem caused by the aerospace engineers?

Yes, engineers solve problems, but they also cause problems.

Every action has its reaction. Each solution has its repercussions.

As engineers we possess some of the most dangerous information in the world and are armed with the weapon to utilize it, our minds. Aerospace engineers know how to make missiles, chemical engineers know how to make bombs, computer scientists know how to control entire technological ecosystems. It’s very easy for an engineer to hurt people, and many do. I’m not exempt from this. I used to work for a military contractor, and I still feel pretty guilty about the implications of the problems that I solved. It is an engineer’s responsibility to act and use their knowledge ethically.

Ethical pleas aside, let’s get back to the topic at hand.

Engineering is inherently political. The goal of modern engineering is to avert catastrophe, tackle societal problems, and increase prosperity. If you disagree don’t argue with me, argue with the National Academy of Engineering. It is an engineer’s responsibility to use their knowledge to uplift the world and solve societal problems, that sounds pretty political to me!

An engineer doesn’t solve a problem in a vacuum. Each problem exists within the context of the situation that caused it as well as the society surrounding that situation. An engineer must consider the societal implications of their solutions and designs and aim to uplift that society through their design and solution to the problem. You can’t engineer within a social society without considering the social implications of both the problem and the solution. Additionally, the social implications of those engineering decisions affect different people in different ways. It’s imperative to be aware and mindful of the social inequality between demographics of people affected by both the solution and the problem. For example, our SpaceX company could be polluting the water supply of a poor community that doesn’t have the resources to solve the problem nor the power or influence to confront our multi-billion-dollar company. Now, a multi-billion-dollar company is advancing society and making billions of dollars at the cost of thousands of lives that already struggle due to their social standing in the world. Now the issue has layers that add further social implications that those without money are consistently prone to the whims of those with money. Which, unfortunately, is a step of ethical thought that many engineers don’t tend to take.

Engineers control our world. Engineers decide which problems to solve and how best to solve them. Engineers control who is impacted by those solutions. Engineers have the power to either protect and lift up the marginalized or continue to marginalize them. Those who control the engineers control the world. This is political. This is a social issue.

Now look me in the eyes and tell me that engineering isn’t inherently political.

[homestuckreplay]

radiation poisoning from my libertarian grandpa :(

(page 779-791)

A few days of updates here! I was kinda mad about the Fruit Update on the 18th. I like captchalogue mechanics, it’s fun to see how all the different modi work and the different situations characters can get into when the modi go wrong. But a five page update of just picking up fruit was too much for me. I simply could not find an interesting thing to say about that.

But now we’ve seen more of Jade’s house, and it’s… a lot. Her atrium having four wings might be relevant later, but doesn’t mean much yet – same with the beautiful pink and yellow clouds outside. Her real instrument looks like a bass guitar (due to its four strings). A trend I noticed before of the kids’ rooms getting messier and houses and lives getting weirder with each successive introduction definitely peaks here. Jade’s room is littered with plushies, plants, guns and uranium, and her grandfather might be the strangest of the four guardians, stranger than a business clown, a ventriloquist rapper, or a woman who builds a cat mausoleum with a secret passage.

Jade’s grandfather is a ‘WORLD RENOWNED EXPLORER-NATURALIST-TREASURE HUNTER-ARCHEOLOGIST-SCIENTIST-ADVENTURER-BIG GAME HUNTER-BILLIONAIRE EXTRAORDINAIRE’ (p.790) which doesn’t paint a great picture to me. That description suggests a man whose quest for personal glory eclipses any regard for other cultures, the environment, health and safety guidelines, or anyone ‘weaker’ than he is. He probably ‘discovered’ the frog statue island we see in WV: Ascend and took it as a trophy, raising his family there even if that’s not the best thing for the island ecosystem or his granddaughter’s life and health.

Jade’s bed and her two closets (below and inside her room) are all topped with strange reddish orbs on spires. It could be coincidence – there’s only so many shapes – but they remind me of the orb spires the kernelsprites land in after hatching (p.424), and as such, could have some connection to her strange powers. Jade’s other contraptions, gadgets and gizmos are a mystery to me – I know the window is a Problem Sleuth reference, but for the photoshopped in devices, I can barely begin to speculate. I do think that given the sciences of appearification, transportalization, alchemy, sylladices and strife specibi, these probably don’t have the same in-universe applications as their real world references. Physics simply works differently in the world of Homestuck, and I’m trying to make fewer assumptions about the world’s fundamentals (beyond gravity, which we’ve witnessed often).

Jade has been so associated with prognostication and esoteric knowledge that finding out she is also a nuclear physicist, a very different type of knowledge, was such a moment of characterization whiplash that puts her at both extremes of the science-religion dichotomy.

The uranium nuggets in Jade’s room, and recurring atomic symbol on her contraptions matching the bunker’s fuel gauge, are more connections between her and WV. But her room contains nods to all her friends, too. Her Slimer poster and magic chest are obvious John references. Her Squiddles poster and plushes are something Rose likes enough to put on a shirt, really hurting her dark eldritch aesthetic, and the anthropomorphic Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff art is signed TO: GG FROM: TG (he even drew his stupid record symbol). Worse, the Manthro Chaps Jade collects are definitely part of the Smuppets line of products; their design is so similar.

A becquerel is the standard unit of radioactive decay per second, and luckily for Jade, one becquerel is not harmful to human health – in fact, human bodies are constantly undergoing several thousand Bq of radioactive decay (even the skeleton has its own radioactive isotopes). I wonder if this is Jade’s cute name for her pet because she loves science, or if this creature has been mutated by Jade or her grandfather’s experimentation, and got the name that way. It could explain why Dave calls Bec a ‘devilbeast’ (p.382) and thinks he should be shot. (Seeing Jade’s gun collection also makes this line feel way too real).

JADE SHIRT DESIGNS TALLY: Atom, Leaf, Pumpkin, Slimer, Spirograph, Squiddle, Creature

> Jade: Engineer a glass case for your URANIUM and store it outside.

[inkyami]

Do you have any tips for book cover designing?

Some are general, some are self-explanatory but still good to remember:

The cover is both the essence of the content inside and a big selling point. "Don't judge the book by it's cover" and all that but people DO judge, big time. So, it's great to try to put some thought into it and to try to reflect the story. My favorite covers are always the ones that have a nod at the mood and therefore are seen as a part of the story. It doesn't have to be "cram all the plot into the cover". A beautiful elaborate design/drawing pretty much stands by itself, but Penguin book's edition of Clockwork Orange with a glass of milk photo? Iconic. Timeless. Simple.

It’s always great to study the current trends in the genre to see what is popular AND what is clearly becoming over-used. The target audience is also important. You typically wouldn’t do a super-minimalist cover for a YA book where you see thousands of readers in the blogs asking for a pretty picture. Or a pretty not-unlike anime hero for a nuclear physicist’s memoir that is read mostly by his friends and peers. (I mean you absolutely can, of course, I’m not gonna stop anyone XD Subversion of expectations is great at times, too.)

The book cover 9/10 implies that there is text too, so you need to keep in mind free space in your composition for the title, author’s name, annotation/blurbs and technical info (ISBN & QR codes etc).

Also, from a technical side — the book is a Shape (duh), so while you draw/design the spread of the cover keep in mind that it will be perceived from the three sides.

I've mentioned the cover reflecting the story, and for illustrated covers it also might mean evoking the needed atmosphere/aesthetic through style. You don't have to (but can) go full on stylized in-the-period mode, but it's always great to research art and book design that could relate to your text and leave some nods to it — it sets the mood and gives a certain expectation to the reader.

Obviously, I ramble from the commercial point of view a lot; designing a book cover for portfolio or just for the love of it would free you of half of these concerns.

[witch-of-the-creek]

How to change the world

-by an aspiring conservationist and environmental activist, and by a person who’s sick of doom scrolling.

If you’re not sure what you want in life, are angry about injustice in the world, want to directly affect the world in a noticeable way, or are curious how activism works in real life, this post is for you

1) don’t fall into the trap of social media activism. It’s a great thing in general and has led to some significant improvements in society, but when taken to the extreme it will lead to stress and burnout. Posting about issues in the world and trying to garner attention for problems requires specific skill sets. If that’s what you want to do with your life, studying journalism is the best way to get there.

2) take a break from social media. Not the whole internet, just social media. Try accessing public information, look up the things you’re interested in. You want to know more about how weather forecasts work? Nearly all the methods used are in the public domain, you’ll definitely be able to find articles and journals on nearly any topic.

3) reach out to people. The scientific journal you want to read is behind a paywall? Find out who the author is and send them an email requesting a copy. They’ve already been paid for their work, and will very likely send one. More than that though, find organizations in your local community who are trying to take on the same problems you want to.

3) keep reaching out. Seriously, the people in this world who are directly affecting the most change are the ones who are focusing on one issue to address and learning how to be really good at addressing that issue. Find the right community, and put roots down.

4) try and stack your skills. You might not be able to be the best physicist out there, but you might be able to be the best physicist/mycologist/bio chemist. Find skills that intersect eachother and pair together well. I’m using the sciences as examples, but so many fields and skills and crafts have the power to affect change. Artists making prints and stickers and logos for activists groups. Writers and public speakers to help get the rhetoric across. People with skills in management and organizing, skills in web design, in film or video.

It’s devastating that societal individualism in some places has gotten to the point that people need to relearn how to be part of communities.

Learning how to rely on and be part of a community is such an important thing, and while it might require some trial and error, finding the right people and the right purpose can be the most wonderful thing in life.

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

🛰️ Space Is Cold, You Are Not

Space Is Cold, You Are Not: Huihana Eketone has been on board the Shepard for over two years, helping to keep it functioning while her team attempts the impossible; create unlimited energy. After developing a friends with benefits relationship with the residential physicist on board, it becomes clear that Hana’s relationship with one Ernst Schmidt is anything but casual when she is severely injured by a cluster of space debris while performing a repair.

Warning: Language, Explicit Contents, Bad Things Happen to Reader, Gore/Wound description, Angst, Idiots in Love, Space is Dangerous.

To Note: Ernst Schmidt x Māori!Reader, Reader is from New Zealand, The Shepard is Successful, I tried my best with Māori translations but my grammar might be wrong, Friends/‘Enemies’ W/Benefits Turned Lovers.

Word Count: ~7.5k

Shepard Station, Circular Orbit

Your steady breathing was the only thing you could hear over the slight buzzing from the open comms link. The buzz of the electronics was a sound you had grown used to since arriving on the newly completed station. Space is cold, empty, silent, at least it was when you suited up to repair or adjust a part of the accelerator outside the safety of the station.

Out of everyone on the team, you had spent the most time in space, and with it, the most risk. But as one of the mechanical engineers who had spent numerous hours designing and building this station, no one on board knew it better than you did. Not to mention your whole reason for being here was to ensure that the station didn’t fall apart before the tests were completed.

Hence why you were outside the station in an EVA suit, tightening up several bolts to a control panel after you had done some adjustments for Volkov. The wrench in your hand was once again proving difficult as the bulky fingers of your suit struggled to keep a grip on it.

“Kiel to Eketone, what are your O2 levels?” Kiel’s voice buzzed and crackled over the comms, jarring you from your silence.

“You asked me that fifteen minutes ago, Commander.” You answered dryly, finally tightening the bolt to a satisfactory hold.

“And I want to know what your O2 levels are once again.” He replied in that tone of his. Everyone always gathered on the main bridge of the station to monitor your progress while you were working in the vacuum of space. CO2, O2, heart rate, respiration, body temperature, you named it, they monitored it. Excessive, but safety in space had been hammered into all of your brains until you muttered in your sleep.

“78%,” you answered, glancing down at the tablet strapped to the top of your right forearm. “And I’m almost done bolting the panel back in place so stop worrying about my oxygen consumption, you know these tanks can last hours.”

“Not happening, it’s my job as your commander to worry about you.” Kiel responded. “You do yours, I do mine.”

“If you are about to go into a long indentured speech about the dangers of space, need I remind you that out of the seven of us, I’ve spent the most time in an EVA suit? It’s literally in my job description to go into the vacuum and fix things.”

“I believe what the commander means is that we all worry about your safety given the unpredictable nature of its environment.” Hamilton spoke up. “He’s not questioning your ability to fix the Shepard.”

“Do not remind me of the incident that happened three months ago, Ava, I’ve got the scars as a clear reminder.” You told her as you got the last bolt safely in place. Your bulky EVA covered fingers tugged on the hatch to test the lock. It was good. “Panel secure, I’m heading back to airlock 31.”

“Copy that, Tam and Hamilton will meet you there for decontamination.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” you responded dryly, securing your wrench to its spot on your leg. The EVA suit made movement slow, and while you were pulling yourself along a grab rod you could hear Volkov grumbling underneath his breath about your slowness. “You are welcome to do the space walk for repairs then, Sasha.” You snipped in reply.

“Don’t get into it, you two,” Kiel ordered. “With repairs finished and the new codes in, we’re in for another test tomorrow. I want all hands on deck and rested. Kiel out.”

You focused on getting back to the airlock without incident. But of course, that involved changing your lead from one rod to another and pulling yourself up across the bridge connecting the particle accelerator ring to the main habitat of the station. Pushing yourself along, you reached out and grabbed the next rod to attach its lead to your suit before disconnecting the other one. The comms crackled.

“How exactly are you friends with Volkov? I swear you two almost butt heads as much as he and Schmidt…” You chuckled at Hamilton’s words, and pressed the comms switch on your forearm.

“Sasha and I go back to the early days of planning, long before it was decided that I would be sent up. He’s an ass, but he knows what he is doing and I can respect that.” You answered. “And as for why he and Schmidt butt heads so much? Sasha’s an ass and Schmidt is a hot head. Bad combination for a pressurized station in space.”

“Is that why you don’t like Schmidt?” You snorted at Eva’s offhanded, yet jesting question.

“Who said I don’t like Schmidt, Ava?”

“Uh, by the fact that you only ever call him Schmidt?” Hamilton countered. “I know you well enough by now that when you consider someone a friend, you call them by their first name. But not once in our six hundred and ninety-four days up here have I ever heard you call him Ernst.”

“Do you? Or anyone else for that matter?”

“Not if we don’t want a frosty glare. My point is, what do you not like about Ernst that has you always so reserved with him?”

“Hei aha atu māu.” (Mind your own business.) You muttered in reply, pulling yourself up the long rod to the airlock. “I’m almost to the airlock, stand by for lock opening and decompression.”

Fifteen minutes later Tam and Hamilton were helping you out of the EVA suit. Standing in your underwear and tank top, your fingers quickly worked your tablet as you uploaded the updates to Kiel’s computer on the bridge with your seal of approval.

“With my repairs, we’re back on schedule for tomorrow.” You said while pulling on your pants and buttoning them. “In the meantime, I’m taking my downtime. Comm me if anything happens, or better yet, don’t. I need to sleep.”

You took your jacket from Tam, who gave you a knowing look, and returned it with a dirty one. Slinging your jacket around your shoulders, you strode out of the airlock while reaching for your comms unit attached to your thigh. You shot Kiel one last message that you had sent the updates to the computer as you headed for the crew quarters.

Walking down the dimly lit corridor, you stopped at crew quarters five and raised your hand to knock on the metal door. Your knuckles rapped softly on the metal for only a moment before the door slid open. You blinked in surprise, only to find a hand shooting out and grabbing onto the front of your jacket.

You were jerked into the room and as the door slid shut behind you, your back hit metal and fervent lips pressed against yours. Your hands instantly reached up to bury themselves in brown hair and tug on the silky strands. Lips parting, you hungrily returned the kiss while larger hands landed on your hips and pushed themselves beneath your jacket.

Those hands continued on their journey until they found their way around your sides and up your back. Palms pressed on the center of your spine and your body was pressed up against his. You could feel every ounce of tension in his body, and you knew he was moments from breaking. Moaning against sinful lips, you dragged your fingernails from his hair and down his neck.

Seconds later, lips were separating from yours and voraciously nipping at your jaw and the tender flesh of your throat. You sank your nails into his back and pushed his head further against your skin as little eruptions of pleasure surfaced. But lips ravishing your skin only lasted so long, as did your patience. Your hands dropped from his shoulder and head, and you were tearing at his clothes.

Your fingernails scraped at his green shirt until you had it free of his arms and over his head. You tossed it to the cold floor and then rotated your shoulders, allowing your jacket his hands had been pushing at, to slide from your figure. While your fingers dove for the waistband of his pants, he was yanking your own from your hips. The soft material combined with your simple black underwear dropped past your anti-slip socks, and using your feet, you pushed those too, from your body.

Completely naked from the waist down, your body was hoisted up against a cold wall and in seconds lips were back on yours as a waiting cock slid into your body. Your nails were back, sinking into hot skin and drawing red lines that would leave behind reminders of your illicit affair. Reminders of what was your secret, and what was only for you.

Moaning against Ernst’s mouth, you tightened your legs around his waist while clawing at his shoulder with your left hand. Every time he pressed inside of you drew out a whimper, each and every thrust somehow finding the same exact spot that lit your body up in the best way. Ernst’s lips detached from yours and sloppily pressed against your chin and jaw, laying down kisses that you felt long after his mouth moved on.

You pressed your head back against the cold metal wall you were pressed up against and let yourself fully absorb the stolen moments of intimacy that bore you just enough sense of humanity to keep you sane on this station. The fire burning in your abdomen was well past a broil at this point and well on its way to being an electric wall of lust that would completely overtake your body.

Ernst’s lips ran along your pulse before his teeth started grazing your skin, adding just enough of a threat to send shivers down your spine. You couldn’t leave marks in obvious places, no matter how much you wanted to, but the idea was more than enough to continue walking the high wire. Maybe someday this could be more, but for now, it would have to be enough. Your hands detached from Ernst's body, and you yanked his lips back to yours, devouring his lips with your teeth before pursuing a deeper kiss.

Ernst’s body burned against yours and arching your back against that inferno, you let the pleasurable sensations in your body swell until they could no longer be contained. The room started spinning as both Ernst and you found what you so desperately sought after. Your mouths separated as both of you panted to catch your breaths once more. Ernst pressed his forehead against yours, and you draped your arms over his shoulders once more. With his arms still supporting your body, you were pulled away from the wall and carried the short distance to his bed where you melted beneath each other's touch and just for a little while, escaped the grim reality that surrounded you.

Flash… Flash… Flash… Flash… Flash…

The lights of the particle accelerator ring flashed by in the window, lighting up your blank face every time the inhabitable section of the ship completed a rotation for our artificial gravity.

“You need to see Acosta, Hana,” came his gentle words that broke the heavy silence in the room, continuing to stare at the lights in your own silence. He brushed his fingers across your shoulder and then down the back of your arm. “I’m worried about you.”

“He’ll just tell me that I need to get more sleep, or put me on that medication again. I didn’t like it the first time, and I will not be put on it again,” you muttered out, your fingers of the hand tucked up against your chest curling around the sheet covering your body. He sighed at your words, and soon there was a tugging sensation on your shoulder. He pushed you from your side to your back so he could look at you in the eyes.

Brown met your eyes, and you swore it was like he was seeing into your very soul, like he could see who you truly were behind the mask you always kept up. His eyes gazed into yours with such gentleness and concern, it was that look that made you cry when you were alone in your quarters where no one could see. Up here in space, he was yours. That soft and gentle look was yours, his warm comforting hugs were yours. But we couldn’t stay in space forever. On Earth, that look was not exclusively yours, and neither was he.

“I’m trying so hard to make things work, Ernst, but I— I don’t think I can,” you whispered up at him. “We only have enough fuel for three more firings. After that, it’s over.”

“The fate of the world does not rest on your shoulders and your shoulders alone, Huihana,” Ernst replied softly, shifting his hand to run his fingers lightly down your face. “We are a team. You have kept this station running smoothly for over two years, that is more than enough on your part.”

“We’re still running out of time,” you said, your lips wobbling. “I’m running out of time.”

“We’ll figure this out, you’ve done your job, Liebling,” he said, leaning down to press his lips against your forehead. You closed your eyes and lifted your hand to lightly draw your own fingers across his cheek and into his hair.

“I just want this to be over. I feel so numb, so cold up here,” you said softly, trying to soak in every last bit of warmth you could get from him.

“Space is cold, you are not,” Ernst whispered, pressing a few more kisses to your cheeks.

It was time for the next firing and you found yourself standing on the bridge, tablet in hand as you scrolled through all over the equipment you were monitoring as well as the new changes you had made. Everyone had high hopes for this firing but you were keeping your expectations low, if anything, you expected this firing to be exactly like all others before it: a failure.

“Systems all up and operational on my side, we’re ready,” you spoke up. Ava nodded to you and looked to Ernst.

“Schmidt, system status?”

“Green across the board,” Ernst replied, looking down at his console and pressing a few buttons. From Monk’s station the WBC news station was being broadcasted live, and they were once agin talking about the dangers of the particle accelerator.

“I’ve got fluctuations on deck X,” you spoke up.

“It should steady upon pre-ignition,” Ernst replied as Kiel walked onto the bridge. “Shepard is holding presently.”

“Keep it that way,” you muttered underneath your breath. “I don’t want to do another space walk.”

“Commander, Shepard team standing by for your go,” Ava announced to Kiel.

“Diagnostic mode off,” Kiel ordered as Tam emerged from the data banks in the back.

“X deck modifications complete,” Tam said in Mandarin as she passed.

“Stabilizer?”

“Active,” Ava responded.

“Qinhuangdao, confirm pre-ignition sequencing authorization,” Kiel asked. We all listened to the response and Kiel gave me a nod before addressing the centers we were on call with.

“Huntsville and Qinhuangdao Control, we'll call you post blackout.

“Copy.”

“Stand by for protocol go.”

“Eketone, contact Volkov for compass calibration,” you leaned forwards and pressed the comms button on your station.

“Volkov?” you asked. “The Shepard is ready to be taken online, how’s your station?”

“I’m calibrating our expensive compass,” Volkov responded as Kiel turned to Monk.

“Monk, turn that shit off,” Kiel sighed out. The news channel was finally shut off.

“Gyro is calibrating,” Volkov responded. “Our station is good.”

“Copy that,” you echoed, your fingers fluttering over your tablet.

“You should ask Schmidt, is his station good?”

“Jesus Christ,” Schmidt aired out as you bit your tongue and took a deep breath.

“Tamariki,” (Children) you uttered out as Mundy strolled over and clasped his hands in front of Monk.

“Please, Mr. Monk, hit us with your holy stick.”

“Oh, come on. Not now when we're—“ Schmidt was cut off by a look from everyone and Kiel calling his name. He backed down with a glower, secretly giving you a look over his glasses. You gave him a half-hearted shrug. Everyone went quiet and looked down.

“The farther we travel from home, the clearer it becomes that there is a power infinitely greater than us. Please show Your mercy. And allow the Shepard to work this time. To provide the energy we need. To prevent our countries from going to war. Please, God, be on our side. Amen.”

“Amen,” Kiel echoed as Mundy and Monk fist bumped.

“That was righteous,” Mundy said. With final words spoke, Ernst stood up from his station and powered on the key command module, making it extend downward from the ceiling as he walked over with his key.

“Back to work. Sunday School over yet?” Ernst asked, always so serious.

“Schmidt, power up,” Kiel ordered. Everyone started placing their keys into their respective slots to power up the station.

“Sequence running. Thirty to ignition,” Tam said, your eyes dropped to the power levels on the right side of your console.

“Commander?” Ernst asked, Kiel gave him a nod and everyone put their hands on their keys, ready to turn at Ernst’s call. “Three...two...one... mark.”

You turned the keys to the right and the station started rumbling as the particle accelerator powered up and the lights started flickering. You had to place your hand on your console because of the shaking.

“Come on, come on, come on, come on,” Kiel spoke softly, beside you the wall of lights and buttons sparked as several light bulbs burst, and a few seconds later the floor beneath you heaved. You were thrown off your feet as machinery started sparking and exploding. Alarms went off as the crew started shouting, and clawing yourself to your feet, you started checking your console.

“Emergency shutdown!” you shouted. “Powergrid is out of control and we might blow the accelerator!”

Tam started shouting in mandarin, but her words were too fast for you to catch, and in the chaos, you found yourself thrown against the nearest bulkhead. Your head cracked against it and you found yourself sliding down the wall your head in a daze and seeing double.

Between the tilted world you were seeing, the shouting, and the loud emergency sirens, it was hard to get a grip and focus. You’re not sure how long it was before the sirens and alarms were quieted, but when a double of one of the crew appeared in front of you and started touching your face you jerked back from the sensation.

“Whoa, easy, Eketone, you took a knock to the head,” Kiel’s voice said as fingers touched the spot on your head that hurt the most. You flinched and reached up to feel the damage, Kiel kept your fingers from feeling your injury but you could feel the warm sticky blood dripping down your face.

“Monk! Hana’s got a head wound with a nasty bleed.” You tried to swat the hand on your head away. “Come on Han, don’t fight with me.”

“I’m fine,” you eked out. “How’s the station?”

“We’re venting, Mundy and Volkov went to cut off the sections where the damage is, Tam, Ava, and Schmidt are currently troubleshooting,” Kiel explained as Monk appeared with a first aid kit in hand. You grimaced when a gauze patch was pressed against your wound.

“I need the station’s mechanical readout,” you rasped while Monk started opening a suture kit. You eyed the staple gun and butterfly bandages. “That bad?”

“You’ve got at least a three centimeter gash at your hairline Hana,” Monk chided as he brandished the staple gun. “I can see your skull.”

“Well, is it cracked?” Monk snorted as he started to staple the wound shut.

“No, you’ve got a hard head.” Monk quickly stapled wound shut and placed several butterfly bandages over the staples.

“Good, because if we’re venting then shit has hit the fan… I need the mech readout now.” Kiel sighed at your words and you just gave him a look. He knew you were right. You were helped to your feet and brought to the nearest chair where you could start figuring out what the hell just happened.

Despite the head-splitting headache you had, it didn’t take you long to pinpoint where the major issue was, deck H. The couplers for the venting shaft had been blown off, and with them, they had pulled the surrounding structure creating a hole in the station.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” you whispered, your fingers quickly pulling up the external camera to get a good view of the damage. This was bad, like really bad. The kind of damage that could lead to the decompression of the entire station, bad.

“Hana? What is it?” Kiel asked, looking at you with worry.

“I need Volkov, now.”

Volkov was walking with you as you strode down the hall leading to deck H’s airlock. Kiel was on your heels and the entire way there Volkov was trying to talk you out of what you were planning on doing.

“…remind you that you just took a hit to the head?” Volkov asked. You snorted.

“No, you may not,” you came to a stop in front of the airlock bay and turned to face both of them. “Forgive me for being egotistical, but I know this ship the best and if you want that hole fixed I’m the best and most qualified for the job.”

You hit the open button for the dry dock bay doors and looked back at Kiel and Volkov.

“You can argue with me on this as much as you want as my friend, but as my commander, you know I’m right.” You finished. Kiel looked anything but happy, but you knew by the look on his face he knew you were right.

“I want this done tight, Eketone, full gear, full cautions,” Kiel stated before looking at Volkov. “Suit her up and meet me back on the bridge, I’ll get the others and inform them.”

Volkov and you turned to enter the dry dock bay as Kiel strode away. You started stripping yourself out of your jacket and pants, and tossing them to the floor, you pulled your shirt over your head as Volkov pulled the EVA suit over on its track.

“He is going to lose his shit when Kiel tells him that you’re the one doing the EVA.” Volkov said as you lifted your leg and stepped into the large EVA suit.

“Who’s going to loose their shit?” You asked, ignoring the fact that you knew perfectly well who Volkov was talking about. “I’m pretty sure no one is going to be happy with me doing a space walk after what happened, not with all the debris flying around.”

Fully standing in the suit, you started tightening it around your body and pulling it up your hips.

“You know who I am talking about, tsvetok,” (Flower) Volkov responded as he maneuvered the top portion of the EVA suit over your head. You lifted your arms and put them through the arm holes as the rest of the suit was brought down and secured. Volkov quickly put the gloves over your hands and locked them in place.

You didn’t say anything as he set the headset on your head and adjusted it so it fit snugly around your ear. The helmet was soon over your head and secured in place, and detaching from the EVA suit from its hanger, you walked over to the airlock doors. Your gloved hand hit the release button and the doors opened. You made your way into the airlock as Volkov sealed you in.

Looking down at the tablet perched on your arm, you hit the comms button. Your headphones crackled for a second before the sounds of voices arguing reached your ears.

“… you can’t seriously think that it is safe!”

“We don’t have much of a choice!”

“She is going to get killed!” That was Ernst’s voice. “How could you let her go with the debris field in a constant state of fluctuation!”

“Volkov could go, he’s got the same training…”

“She’s the most qualified.”

“Bullshit!”

“Schmidt that’s—“ More arguing erupted. Letting out a deep sigh, you reached for the decompression button and started the process. Once the airlock was ready, you hit the external door button. While the door opened, you reached down and opened your comms line.

“This is Eketone, I’m exiting the Shepard.” You announced over the arguing. The raised voices immediately cut off. You reached for the first attachment line and clipped yourself on before edging yourself out. Once clear of the door, you reached for the external controls and closed the door. “External Hatch H-21 closed, I’m making my way over to H deck.”

You had moved a few yards before anyone spoke.

“What are your O2 stats?” Kiel asked, a slight tremor in his voice. He was probably just barely holding it together, so you didn’t dig into him. You glanced at your vitals on your arm.

“O2 stats are at 100, pulse ox is at 99.” You responded, your hands continuing their side-to-side movement as you pulled yourself along. As you expected, it was silent for most of your journey to the broken hull, but that silence was broken ever so often by the alarmed voices of your crewmates regarding a group of debris flying close to where you were.

Finally making it to the upper level where you could get your eyes on the damage, you cringed inside. This was not going to be easy, far from it actually. But it had to be done. Just as you were transferring your leads to the next safety bar, the comms crackled.

“Hana,” you paused at the seriousness in Kiel’s voice. “The moment you move onto the upper level, you’ll be exposed to the debris fields.”

You finished transferring your leads and paused for a moment.

“I’m aware of the risks, commander.” You replied shortly before you pulled yourself up. There was debris and parts of the Shepard floating through space, you hurried your way to the gaping hole. Once you got to the first part of the hole, you pulled out the microfoam injector from your belt and got to work.

The microfoam was doing its job well as you ran the injector gun along the ripped seam of metal, but it was a process that was too slow, and the longer you took, the more your crew aired their worries about the flying metal and electronic parts that got a little close to your EVA suit for comfort. There were a few close calls, but you managed to get most of the hole covered.

It was only when you were sealing up the last few parts that things started to go wrong. The pieces of flying debris started coming by at a faster rate, and you could hear alarms going off through the comms. Your heart, which had already been racing in your chest, sped up.

“Eketone, get back inside right now!” You ignored the voice of Kiel and continued your work. “Eketone!” Kiel’s voice was a bark now and you knew he wasn’t not playing around. You looked up to see the wave of debris that was headed your way at a lighting speed.

“If I don’t fix this now, we lose everything!” You shouted back, your hands clenching around the injector gun as you tried to keep your hand steady. Looking at the slowly closing hole, you started muttering to yourself. “Come on, come on, come on…”

Bits of debris starting hitting your suit, drowning out the shouts from your crewmates. A piece of metal hit the visor of your suit, causing a hairline fracture on the outer screen. Shit. As more and more pieces flew by you, you started to panic. All you could hear was the sound of your heavy breathing and the alarms going off from your suit telling you you were taking damage. Jerking the tool in your hand, you finally sealed the hole, and doing a quick diagnostic scan, the tablet on your arm told you that the pressure in the damaged section of the station was stabilized.

You could faintly hear your crewmates shouting to head back, and that’s what you did. Pulling yourself along, you clenched your teeth as fear twisted its way up your spine. Something it you in the shoulder and you were blasted away from the tether lines. Your arms flailed as you tried to get a grasp once more, but it was hard with how much you were spinning in place. Just as you finally caught sight of the metal bar once more and stretched your arm, something collided with your body.

“Come on, come on, come on,” Mundy shouted unhelpfully as he, Tam, and Hamilton quickly helped Volkov into the second EVA suit. Hands where shaking and nerves were either shot or about to be. “Judging by there scans from her suit, she’s got about half an hour left.”

“I’m not going to take my time,” Volkov snapped at Mundy as Tam and Hamilton quickly snapped the EVA gloves on.

“I’m just saying! It’s still a mess out there, we don’t need you getting hit either.” Mundy exclaimed in defense of himself. Hamilton reached up and pulled the helmet down.

“Listen, Hana’s suit is punctured, but the shrapnel is keeping it sealed for now. When you grab her, try to avoid touching the area or jostling her too much.” Hamilton explained quickly. “You might have to cut her main leads from their secure point, and if you do—“

“I’ll tether her to me first, this isn’t my first time.” Volkov stated, normally he wouldn’t have tolerated being talked to like he had never done a space walk before, but with Hana’s life on the line, he didn’t have the time to argue. Volkov disconnected himself from the EVA track and walked over to the airlock doors. “Monk better be ready for her,”

“He and Kiel are already prepping the surgery bay,” Hamilton answered as she shared a look with Tam. Volkov let out a huff of air before closing the air lock doors behind him. Tam and Hamilton waited anxiously as Volkov departed the Shepard and started making his way towards the area where Hana was still tethered to the station.

“I’m going to see if Monk needs any more help.” Mundy said, dashing for the exit. While the remaining two waited, a red faced Schmidt strode into the docking bay. Hamilton raised an eyebrow at him before glancing down at his wrist.

“I’m surprised that Kiel let you out of the handcuffs,” Schmidt grunted out as he walked over to to the control panel and started pulling up the diagnostic stats for deck H.

“He needs all of us at the moment,” Schmidt muttered lowly, keeping his eyes trained on the numbers scrolling across the screen in front of him.

“You know she’s going to be alright, Schmidt?” Schmidt looked at Hamilton, and she could see that his eyes were red. “If anyone can survive a punctured EVA suit it’s Huihana Eketone.”

“We’re not—“

“We know,” Tam spoke up. Schmidt’s eyes shot to hers and she shrugged. “It’s obvious. We’ve been placing bets on how long you two were going to keep it a secret.”

“I’m not even sure there is anything to be exposed as a secret.” Schmidt answered softly. “Hana has been rather distant lately, I’ve been trying to get her to see Acosta.”

“She’s having trouble sleeping again?” Tam asked, Schmidt nodded in confirmation. The three of them were caught off guard when the an alarm went off indicating that someone was accessing the exterior door. They crowded around the viewing window to see Volkov tugging Hana into the air lock.

“That was quick,” Hamilton commented.

“That’s because Volkov actually likes her,” Schmidt muttered underneath his breath as his eyes trained on the piece of shrapnel sticking out of Hana’s EVA suit. As the external bay was decompressed and the artificial gravity was initialized, reality set in.

“We’re going to have to move her in her suit, we can’t risk causing more damage by accidentally bumping the metal.” Hamilton said as Volkov dragged Hana over to the door. One the internal airlock door was opened, Hamilton and Schmidt took the weight of Hana from Volkov and started dragging her in the direction of the medical bay.

They made it to the medical bay where Kiel, Monk, and Mundy were and with precision and synchonisity, began to work. They carefully pulled the EVA suit apart, leaving the mid section to be cut by scissors, and upon exposing the wound Kiel was glancing up at Schmidt.

“Schmidt, leave,” Schmidt’s face hardened and he was about to retort but was stopped by Kiel. “Do not make me repeat myself. I will have you restrained again if I need to.”

He didn’t want to leave, but if he was forced he would be left wondering what was happening with Hana, so with a leaden heart, Schmidt backed out of the room, his eyes never once leaving Hana’s still form.

Once Hana was properly situated, they finally got a good look at the injury. The shrapnel had pierced through her skin and the area surrounding the wound was smeared in red that was growing by the second.

“Monk, Monk did it hit anything important?” Kiel asked as medical tools where passed around. Monk reached for the portable x-ray scanner and shifted it so it was over Hana’s abdomen. With just as quick view, Monk was able to further assess the total damage done.

“Her spleen was hit, but it missed her other organs.” Monk spoke as he lightly pressed the bloody area. “I’ll have to perform a contrast to see how much internal damage has been done. That will take time.”

“You’re just going to leave it in her?” Schmidt exclaimed from where he was pacing back and forth in front of the viewing window. Kiel terminated the comms line and turned back to Monk.

“Monk, is this survivable?”

“I need time, but we need to leave it in, it’s preventing her from bleeding out.” Monk explained. “I want everyone out but Tam and Hamilton.”

“Were going to need to check on the repairs,” Mundy spoke up, wringing his hands once more. Everyone in the room glanced at him with looks. “What? She put her life on the line for that repair, we need to see it through, it’s what she’d want.”

“Mundy’s right,” Kiel said, glancing between the crew. “We’ll go and work on finishing the repairs, Volkov should be on his way for an update. Send him to the bridge afterwards.” Kiel then glanced at the pacing Schmidt. “And whatever you do, keep him in line. I need him in working condition. Lie if you have to.”

“Yes, Commander.”

With a plan set, they broke up. Monk started to gather further instruments, and looking at Tam and Hamilton, nodded his chin at the medical freezer.

“I need two bags of O positive prepped along with sutures and clamps.” Monk spoke. “I’m going to have to make an incision to get this thing out.”

“I’ll get the blood,” Tam said, hurrying over to the medical freezer. Hamilton ran a scanner over the piece of shrapnel.

“I’m picking up contaminates and radiation.”

“We’ll treat that post operative.” Tam came back over with the bags of blood ready for use as Monk inserted several i.v. lines. Laying out a surgical cover, Monk picked up a scalpel and went in to start his first cut.

Hours later, Monk, Tam, and Hamilton cleaned up the surgical bay. It wasn’t a touch and go situation, but Monk, by no means, could say that Hana would have a one hundred percent recovery. What she needed couldn’t be found on the station.

Striping the gloves from his hands, Monk tossed the soiled material into the trash before going to the closest console and hitting the call button. Kiel was responding within seconds.

“What’s the prognosis, Monk?” Kiel asked, skipping all formalities. Monk braced himself against the metal table and let out a tired sigh.

“I’ve removed the shrapnel and stabilized her… for now. She’s got internal hemorrhaging that’s causing her blood pressure to drop and as for the location the shrapnel hit, her spleen took the brunt of it,” Monk explained. “I can’t repair the damage done, it’s going to have to be removed.”

“Then do it…” Kiel replied before frowning. “Is there something else?”

“Despite the puncture wound creating a seal on the suit, the metal had contaminate particles.” Monk said, his brow furrowing. “It’s going to cause infection and other complications that I can’t treat up here. That and the combined radiation exposure… she needs to be in a hospital, not my medical bay.”

“Then we better get to fixing the Shepard.” Kiel said, he paused before continuing. “And Schmidt?”

Monk looked at the physicist still waiting outside the surgical bay. He hadn’t moved since the surgery had started.

“Cooperative, for now. But we need to hurry on the repairs.”

Three Months Later

New Zealand, North Island

Sitting on a bench on the peak of the farm valley your  parents owned, you stared down at the now flourishing farming plots and wondered how you had possibly helped to create a successful particle accelerator, only to get so injured that you had been rendered unconscious when it was actually rendered successful. The sheer irony.

Looking down, you plucked a long strand of a leaf and started picking away at it. After struggling to solve the energy crisis for so long, and finally achieving that goal, you had no direction in your life anymore. Sure, you had accolades, plenty of awards for your part on the Shepard Station, and a good sum of money in your bank account, but you found that you spent your days in a listless haze.

It was lonely, having woken up alone in a hospital in Auckland. It wasn’t like the crew could come and drop by for a visit, and you were sure they had gone back to carry on with their lives. That meant that everything you had built on that station was gone, including him. It was silly to be this upset, but for once in your life you felt like someone was actually able to see past the walls and barricades you had put up to protect yourself.

But you were no longer on the Shepard and you were no longer a crew; everyone had gone home to their respective countries a hero, and you just felt like a failure. A failure currently moping. Sighing out, you dropped the leaf you had been picking apart and stood up from the bench. It was getting late and knowing your mother, she would not be happy if you were late for dinner a fourth time. It was time to start hiking back down the mountain.

Grabbing the walking stick you had used to climb up the mountain, you slowly began picking your way back down, keeping an arm secured around your waist. Generally, splenectomies were a surgery that only took four to six weeks of recovery, but combined with the damage from the piece of shrapnel and the contamination, your recovery was slow going. The aches and pains in your side were slow to leave.

On your way down, you cut across the sheep paddock and wove through the grazing animals. The sunset was once again a kaleidoscope of colors on the horizon and actually managed to cheer you up some as you walked. Entering the farmhouse garden, you left the walking stick by the cooking shed and headed for the back door of the house.

Using the tips of your boots, you slipped your feet out of your farm boots, you shed your jacket and hung it up on a hook before entering the kitchen and making a beeline for the sink.

“Kia ora, Mama,” you greeted as you entered the homely space.

“You’re late, tamāhine,” Mama called from behind you. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “We have a guest.”

“Oh really?” you questioned, only half listening to her. Turning the faucet off, you reached for a towel to dry your hands.

“Are you even listening to me, Huihana?” Mama chided, hanging up the towel. You glanced over your shoulder to give her a look, only to end up doing a double take. Ernst blinked back at you from where he sat at the dining table, looking surprisingly comfortable to be at Hahana Ketone’s dinner table. Your mother had a habit of not mincing her words, and her bluntness often put off visitors. “Why didn’t you tell me your crew mate was so handsome!?”

You blinked rapidly before feeling a rush of warmth on your cheeks at her words. Sputtering a little, you wiped your hands on your pants as you turned around.

“That— that’s not something you go around talking about, Mama!” you replied, holding your arms against your chest. “Certainly not about my crew mate.”

Mama just huffed at you and muttered a few more words under her breath in Māori before standing up.

“I’ll give you two some space to talk,” Mama said before striding from the kitchen, leaving you alone with Ernst. He cleared his throat.

“Apologies it took so long to visit, the others wanted to come as well, but Kiel insisted that we not overwhelm you,” he spoke up. A shiver ran up your spine just from his soft voice, and biting down on your lip, you flickered your eyes away to look at something other than him.

“I’m sure they’re busy,” you said in reply, shrugging your shoulders slightly. “It’s not like you and the others solved a civilization-ending problem.”

“We,” Ernst corrected you. “We solved a civilization-ending problem, Hana. I doubt we would have done so if not for you and your assistance.”

You weren’t convinced, but the look in his brown eyes kept you from firing back a rebutting statement to refute his words. Ernst got up from his seat and walked over to where you stood, staring you down with a raised eyebrow.

“I can see it in your face, you don’t believe that you helped?” he clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“I’m not an astrophysicist or a microbiologist, and I certainly don’t know shit about how the particle accelerator works, Ernst,” you told him. “I just know how to fix things and keep space stations from decompressing.”

“You just proved my point,” Ernst pointed out, coming to a stop right in front of you. You leaned your head back to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Ernst,” you called in exasperation.

“Hana,” he called back, not backing down. “Give in, Hana, you know I’m right.”

Your fight wilted; after all, he had flown over eighteen thousand kilometers to get here, and Ernst really didn’t have any obligations to see you again. It wasn’t like your affair on the Shepard was something that was going to be continued… right?

“I’ll give on that,” you finally stated before looking down at your shirt. “Ernst, why are you here?”

“I think you know why,” Did you?

“Ernst, what happened between us on the station was—” you sputtered out, searching for words to say but ultimately coming up with nothing.

“Was what? Temporary? A stress reliever? Something to do?” he questioned in rapid fire, not giving you time to answer the question.

“Do you really think I am capable of acting like that? We lived together for two years on a space station, Ernst, what don’t you know about me!?”

“Clearly not everything since you are trying to act like those two years never happened,” Ernst finally snapped.

“You aren’t mine down here, okay!?!” you shot back, your voice now raised. “You were mine on the Shepard, Ernst, but not down here.”

“According to who?” he countered, his eyebrow raising. “The only one thinking in absolute is you, Hana. Who says we can’t see each other now that we are back on Earth?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but found that no words came to your tongue. Airing out your frustrations in a long breath, you pushed a hand through your hair.

“Alright, I’m an idiot, can we please move on from the arguing? I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I, liebling,” Ernst said before reaching for your hand. He wrapped his fingers around yours and rubbed his thumb into your palm. “Now that—that is settled, I feel that we have done this backwards, but I would like to take you on a date.”

Date Published: 6/27/22

Last Edit: 4/28/24

[seaweedbrain3]

Hi :D. I know the fandom wasn’t in the tags of your “ask me anything” post so it’s perfectly fine if you ignore this, but I would love to see your take on the Midnight Burger cast!

This is them, they are my babies.

Ava is a theoretical physicist with 4 phd’s, she would burn the world to the ground if it meant figuring out what would happen; and she is at the diner to figure out what’s going on, figure out a solution, and then sit back while the others actual make that solution a reality. She is also, personality wise, a dumbass. One of my favorite quotes from her is “Caspar, if I don’t come back, just remember. I HATE YOU!!!” And then she ran away.

Gloria is the restaurant manager, they got her during the pandemic, and she is the equivalent of “I’m not mad, I’m just… DISAPPOINTED.” She has insulted the diner to get it to behave and she has bitten John Wilkes Booth. She can and will fight for what’s right while also giving you a little kiss on the forehead and telling you you did a great job.

Caspar doesn’t have a job. His job is friend. And he is very good at it most of the time. However, his job is friend because no one else’s job is friend, and he is very lonely. For reference, his best friend is a robot made to confront him about leaving his ex wife. And she is a lovely person. His loneliness does not affect him too much, because he will still insult Ava for using the metric system, and will still insult the people trying to put him in chemical ice.

Leif is a space pirate. He’s an engineer. And a space pirate. And he built a rail gun on top of the diner for funsies. I think that’s all the explanation you need.

I am genuinely so intruiged by this...i'm gonna check this podcast out soon!!! It seems really good! And the designs are 😍😍😍

You'd like me to draw them correct? If so I'D LOVE TO!!!

[radix-outpost]

Now that I’m actually watching some dang Precure, I thought I’d revise my first fancure and pull her teammates out of conceptual limbo.

Cure Silk is an uber-goth who already knew her fairy partner for a while before becoming a Cure; Cure Jewel is a gyaru-type (at least on the surface), and Cure Luna is a physicist. They’re all themed around insects and arachnids, gothic lolita fashion, and hints of Whimsigothic aesthetic.

(They’re also all adults. I would not put a sixth-grader in Cure Jewel’s outfit.)

Design notes under the cut:

* You can find Cure Silk’s old design in my dA scraps; it was pointed in the right direction, but too plain for a Cure. She’s also not named ”Kumoko” in her civilian form anymore, as it turns out that’s the name of the main character of “So I’m a Spider, So What”. :U

* Jewel and Luna were going to be “Cure Kabuto” and “Cure Papillon”, respectively, and be green and purple (also respectively). I could never figure out how Kabuto was going to look, and Cure Butterfly of Hirogaru necessitated a change of name/theme for Luna.

* I’m not yet sure if the masks are functional or just decorative, but if it’s the former, they’d come down for their finishers.

[zilodak]

if you don’t mind me asking, why did you decide to turn the characters into your OCs? I’m not complaining, I think your art is amazing in any form or fashion

(you don’t have to answer if you don’t feel comfortable explaining why <3)

Because they were my OCs. A lot of what I based my FNAF drawings on were my personal headcanons that honestly had really no attachment to FNAF canon (e.g. Mrs Afton was a nuclear physicist, Charlie was an older alt/goth teenager, etc etc).

It was like a sandbox to me, and even though it DID have connections to FNAF canon, those elements I came up with far outweighed the canon. It was less of an AU at that point and more of my own story, and I realized that and leaned on it more.

That being said, my current designs and stories surrounding my OCs have little to no connection to their old FNAF counterparts. I don't want to delete those old drawings or edit their tags because they were part of the development and history of Sim Spring. However, I don't exactly appreciate people insisting that my OCs are their old counterparts either, but that's nothing I can control.

I didn't particularly like the fact that Spring would only be a combination of Springbonnie and handunit you know? I felt like there was more out there for me. More that the story could be other than a FNAF AU and bound to a haunted restaurant. Not that there's anything wrong with that, I guess I just wanted my own space.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Michael Shermer

Published: Jun 21, 2024

In my book Why People Believe Weird Things I offered this definition of how science works:

Science is a set of methods designed to describe and interpret observed or inferred phenomenon, past or present, aimed at building a testable body of knowledge open to rejection or confirmation

That is, science is something we do, an action, a verb, to describe what we see in the lab or field or world, or interpret what we think we see, since the facts never just speak for themselves but must be interrupted through some model or theory (facts are “theory laden”). Sometimes we see things directly, but sometimes we must infer their presence indirectly, for example, exo-planets are inferred by their effects on their home star, either by the perturbation of the star’s motion or by the amount of emitted light that dims when the planet passes in front of it that astronomers can detect. Because many sciences are historical in nature—cosmology, geology, paleontology, archaeology, and history—we have to infer information about them from indirect sources. To put this mouthful more briefly:

Science is a method to explain the world that is testable and open to change.

My favorite rendition of this process comes from a 1964 lecture at Cornell University by the Nobel laureate physicist Richard Feynman:

If it disagrees with experiment, it’s wrong. In that simple statement is the key to science. It doesn’t make any difference how beautiful your guess is, how smart you are, who made the guess, or what his name is. If it disagrees with experiment, it’s wrong. That’s all there is to it.

Is that all there is to it? In this week’s Skeptic column a scholar of Karl Popper, Eric Denton, considers this question, in the context of what happens when people do not understand how science works, as evidenced by Tucker Carlson’s recent appearance on Joe Rogan when he revealed his ignorance about the theory of evolution.

—Michael Shermer

Eric Denton is a writer and podcaster whose primary focus is epistemology; in particular, Popperian epistemology. He separates the wheat from the chaff by subjecting popular science and philosophical writings to severe criticism. His mission is to promulgate critical rationalism to his readers and listeners. Eric is currently working on a book which revolves around the work of Sir Karl Popper.

--

By: Eric Denton

Tucker Carlson, Karl Popper, and How Science Really Works

Eric Denton 

“Theories (scientific or otherwise) are trials, inventions; they are not the results of many observations; they are not derived from many data.”

—Karl Popper, All Life Is Problem Solving

On the April 23, 2024 episode of the wildly popular podcast The Joe Rogan Experience, former preppy now turned populist right-wing firebrand Tucker Carlson confidently declared that “the theory of evolution as articulated by Darwin is like, kinda not true.” 

“In what sense?” asked a bemused Joe Rogan.

“Well, in the most basic sense,” Carlson continued. “The idea that—you know—all life emerged from a single organism and overtime—and—there would be a fossil record of that and there’s not.” 

Rogan interjected by mentioning the existence of transitional fossils; fossils exhibiting adaptations to particular environments.

Carlson quickly appropriated this explanation for his own ends: “there’s tons of record of adaptation and you see it, in your own life. I mean, I have a lot of dogs—I see adaptation in dogs….” He rambled on a bit more before concluding, “but no, there’s no evidence at all that—none—zero—that, you know, people, you know, evolved seamlessly from a single cell amoeba; no, there’s not—there’s not—there’s no chain in the fossil record of that at all.”

I’m afraid Carlson’s blathering is demonstrative of how a great many people think about the methods of science and the growth of knowledge. Like him, multitudes think we acquire knowledge through our senses. This is false. But before continuing, let me supplement this claim with a quote from the philosopher of science Karl Popper’s book The Logic of Scientific Discovery, “I readily admit that only observation can give us ‘knowledge concerning facts’, [here Popper is quoting philosopher Hans Hahn] and that we can ‘become aware of facts only by observation’.” But then Popper reflects, “but this awareness, this knowledge of ours, does not justify or establish the truth of any statement.” So, to be sure, we can learn facts using our senses—unjustified tentative facts—but this isn’t where knowledge comes from. 

On November 24, 1859, Charles Darwin introduced what philosopher Daniel Dennett would later call the “best idea anyone has ever had.” This idea was the theory of evolution by natural selection. “In a single stroke,” Dennett asserts in his book Darwin’s Dangerous Idea, “the idea of evolution by natural selection unifies the realm of life, meaning, and purpose with the realm of space and time, cause and effect, mechanism and physical law.” The evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins waxes eloquent about the simplicity and elegance of natural selection in his book The Blind Watchmaker, following up with a curious question, “how could such a simple idea go so long undiscovered by thinkers of the caliber of Newton, Galileo, Descartes, Leibnitz, Hume and Aristotle?” I’ve often asked this myself.

A couple of centuries before Darwin, in 1610, Galileo Galilei observed, among other things, the phases of Venus (shadows caused by its relation to the sun) through his newly improved homemade telescope, thereby corroborating the heliocentric theory of our solar system; a theory put forth by Nicolaus Copernicus about a half century earlier. With this discovery—in the minds of many—we had finally found the key to making scientific progress: observation! It seemed as if Galileo had simply pointed his telescope at Venus, observed it circling the sun, and voilà, the truth was revealed. But is this what really happened? I’ll argue below that this is mistaken. But first we need context.

About a decade after the corroboration of the heliocentric theory, the philosopher Francis Bacon independently put forth a scientific method that vaguely resembled what Galileo had done. Or at least it seemed so under indiscriminate viewing. His method proposed that, in order to make scientific progress, we must derive general theories from specific observations. For example, if—up to now—you’ve only ever come across white swans in your life, according to Bacon’s method you can logically deduce that all swans are white; you notice a pattern, then derive a theory. “We must not imagine or invent,” Bacon writes in his book Novum Organum, “but discover….”

[ The title page illustration of Francis Bacon’s Novum Organum ]

In other words, we simply allow knowledge to enter our brains through our senses. Sound familiar? This is precisely how Tucker Carlson demonstrated his method of understanding the natural world. “I see adaptation in dogs,” he said. From this he forms the theory that adaptation is “clearly, obviously true,” but then says “there’s no evidence at all that… people… evolved seamlessly from a single cell amoeba.” Notice that he easily accepts adaptation (which, ironically, is a result of natural selection), but refuses to accept the full theory; all this because he didn’t see it happen.

Before returning to Italy with Galileo, let’s first revisit this statement by Bacon. Here it is in full:

We must not imagine or invent, but discover the acts and properties of nature.

This statement is somewhat paradoxical because it does indeed take us two steps forward, but it also takes us one step back. Two steps forward because it abandons traditional authorities (which is a good thing); one step back because it sets up a new authority, namely, our senses. Wait, our senses can be an authority? No, but that’s what they became under many early thinkers. This kind of reasoning is what legitimized the flat earth theory for so long. For example, if you had a time machine and traveled back in time to the 14th century and asked any number of people why they thought the earth was flat, perplexed, they would answer with their own question: “does it look curved?”

Quick but critical digression: the “white swan” proposition mentioned above comes from the 19th century philosopher John Stuart Mill in his book A System of Logic. In it, Mill points out the major flaw in the Baconian method; the fact that it will never be able to give us certainty:

To Europeans, not many years ago, the proposition, all swans are white, appeared an equally unequivocal instance of uniformity in the course of nature. Further experience has proved to both that they were mistaken; but they had to wait fifty centuries for this experience. During that long time, mankind believed in a uniformity of the course of nature where no such uniformity really existed.

This is an extremely important finding in the study of knowledge. It was first noticed by the Ancient Greek skeptical philosophers but took nearly two thousand more years before being neatly articulated by the Scottish philosopher David Hume in his book A Treatise of Human Nature. “We suppose, but are never able to prove, that there must be a resemblance betwixt those objects, of which we have had experience, and those which lie beyond the reach of our discovery.” No matter how many white swans you may come across in your life, there’s always the possibility that a black swan might be sitting on an undiscovered island in the middle of the ocean. 

[ David Hume by Allan Ramsay, 1766 ]

Now that we have some context surrounding our “senses as an authority” problem, let’s reexamine Galileo and his Venus observations. In his book, Galileo: Watcher of the Skies, historian David Wootton describes a letter Johannes Kepler received from Galileo in 1597 in which “he made a most remarkable claim.” After revealing he had been a Copernican for quite a while, Galileo writes of the heliocentric theory, “with this hypothesis [I] have been able to explain many natural phenomena, which under the current hypothesis remain unexplainable.” This conflict of theories was a problem, but as Karl Popper writes, “the natural as well as the social sciences always start from problems…” He continues, “seeing a new problem may well be the most difficult step in creating a new theory.” I take this as Popper indicating how much of a gift finding a problem truly is. When we find a problem we should cherish it. From the same book, All Life Is Problem Solving, Popper outlines the growth of knowledge as follows: 

The starting point is always a problem or a problem situation.

Attempted solutions then follow. These consist of theories, and these theories, being trials, are very often wrong: they are and always will be hypotheses or conjectures.

In science, too, we learn by eliminating our mistakes, by eliminating our false theories.

[ Sir Karl Popper in the 1980s. ]

In short, all knowledge creation is through trial and error. More specifically, trial and the elimination of error, always with the understanding that we can never be certain that we’ve landed on the truth. We proceed not with certain knowledge, but with good explanations. What are those? Here, the theoretical physicist David Deutsch provides a helpful addendum to Popper’s work with a definition from his book The Beginning of Infinity: a good explanation is “an explanation that is hard to vary while still accounting for what it purports to account for.” Put differently, “God did it” is a bad explanation because it can be used to describe anything.

Given this, what really happened with Galileo and his telescope? As previously noted, he started with a problem; a conflict between two theories. Notice that Galileo already had a theory in mind before he made his observation:; the Copernican theory. This will always be the case. “There is no such thing as ‘raw’ experience,” writes Deutsch; “all our experience of the world comes through layers of conscious and unconscious interpretation.” Or as Popper is supposed to have said, “all observation is theory-laden.”

The predominant theory of Galileo’s time was geocentrism, put forth by the 2nd century astronomer Claudius Ptolemy, asserting that the Sun, the Moon, and the stars all circle the earth. Ptolemy’s was a complex model involving different epicycles. He came to this mistaken hypothesis by the false authority of his senses—by looking at the movement of the heavens and attempting to describe what he saw. Galileo on the other hand observed Venus (a wondering dot in the sky conjectured to be a planet) with having both the Ptolemaic and the Copernican theories in mind. Long story short, the Copernican theory simply made more sense than the common-sense theory put forth by Ptolemy. But as Deutsch notes in The Fabric of Reality, “our best theories are not only truer than common sense, they make more sense than common sense.” Common sense is just another way of describing the Baconian method.

[ Pages from 1550 Annotazione on Sacrobosco's De sphaera mundi, showing the Ptolemaic system. ]

This brings us back to Darwin. How did he come up with the theory of evolution by natural selection? He did exactly what Bacon said not to do, he imagined and invented! As with the creation of all knowledge, he didn’t start with an observation, but with a problem. What was his problem? It was the “mystery of mysteries,” as he describes it in the Origin, alluding to a phrase first uttered by the naturalist John Herschel, who was referring to precisely the same problem: what is the origin of species? The prevailing theory in Darwin’s day was standard biblical creationism, bracketed by Plato’s essentialism. Darwin himself held this view before encountering a conflict between his theory and his observation. The evolutionary biologist Ernst Mayr describes this conflict in his introduction to Origin’s facsimile:

Three sets of observations, in particular, impressed Darwin: that fossils from South America are related to the living fauna of that continent rather than to contemporaneous fossils from everywhere; that the faunas of the different climatic zones of South America are related to each other, rather than to animals of the same climatic zone on different continents; and, most important, that the faunas of islands (Falkland, Galapagos) are related to those of the nearest mainland and that related species occur on different islands of the same archipelago.

When one is faced with a situation like this—a problem situation—one has to start making guesses as to how to fix it. That’s precisely what Darwin did. He had never seen anything like natural selection before, he simply made a guess. The theory of natural selection didn’t enter his brain through his senses. Rather, it left his brain through his senses. More specifically, it was created between his ears and left through his hands and mouth. Nature doesn’t create laws and impose them on us. Instead, we create laws and apply them to nature. Are these laws true? We can never know for certain. Again, laws fall under knowledge, and all explanatory knowledge is conjectural, a “best” guess as it were. 

And that brings us back to Tucker Carlson, who finished his rant against Darwinism by claiming: “Darwin’s theory is [totally untrue]. That’s why it’s still a theory.” Despite such ignorance, Carlson actually gets something right with this last statement. Natural selection is indeed still a theory and will remain so unless it gets overthrown by a new theory, a better theory. If this were to happen, the new theory would also remain just a theory—perennially tentative and subject to revision based on new information or analyses.

In his book The Greatest Show On Earth, Richard Dawkins takes great pains to combat the “just a theory” claim. In order to do so, he fights tooth and nail the very philosophy I’ve been speaking of this whole time: “As for the claim that evolution has never been ‘proved’, proof is a notion that scientists have been intimidated into mistrusting. Influential philosophers tell us we can’t prove anything in science.” Nevertheless, Dawkins lands the philosophical plane: “The more energetically and thoroughly you try to disprove a theory, if it survives the assault, the more closely it approaches what common sense happily calls a fact.” That said, to reiterate, knowledge can never be certain. Popper explains it like this:

The empirical basis of objective science has thus nothing “absolute” about it. Science does not rest upon rock-bottom. The bold structure of its theories rises, as it were, above a swamp. It is like a building erected on piles. The piles are driven down from above into the swamp, but not down to any natural or “given” base; and when we cease our attempts to drive our piles into a deeper layer, it is not because we have reached firm ground. We simply stop when we are satisfied that they are firm enough to carry the structure, at least for the time being.

My guess is that thinkers such as Newton, Galileo, Descartes, Leibnitz, Hume, and Aristotle—the thinkers mentioned by Dawkins above—didn’t land on natural selection because of its abstract nature. The common sense of their day was far too strong to overthrow. They were afraid to step into the land of best guesses where the only thing that matters is the falsifiability of a theory (that is, it can be put to some test and shown to be wrong), not its verifiability (simply finding more cases where it appears to hold true). It’s not surprising that Darwin sat on his “dangerous” idea for so long before publishing. Its sheer boldness is breathtaking. And it is only through such boldness that makes science progress—by testing bold and seemingly improbable ideas. 

==

Tucker Carlson is an abject fucking moron.

[phosphophillight]

Hello, I'm slowly getting more and more into your story because it's just so good (especially the designs LIKE HOLY SHIT they are SO GOOD)

Would you mind elaborating a bit about your recent post about your oc that got split in two and ended up as a mockery of everything she used to stand up for?

Especially what that last part means. It's very intriguing and seems like such a cool concept I just couldn't not ask

What were her beliefs before the split? Why was she so persistent in trying to get her pieces back together (you said it took her lifetimes if I remember correctly)? And what does "a mockery" really mean in this context?

I'm just trying to get more info about the story, cuz like I said, I'm getting invested. Especially after seeing your Toyhouse with all those lore important things. Your world seems to be so big and I want to understand it! :DD

Hi! FIRSTLY THANK YOU SO MUCH ! I’m going to attempt to explain this briefly as the actual story is pretty long!

Her name is Devora Elowen! She starts out as a normal quantum physicist lady that lives in a struggling earth, which has mostly exhausted its resources. She gets recruited into a small research group (4 people including her lol) they embark on an exhibition to the arctic, and all conduct separate research within the confines of a facility in the heart of the snow I guess.

Devora herself is the most driven out of all of the group to figure out a way to help the earth, truly and simply because of the love she has for everyone and everything on earth (and the earth itself too!). She starts out as a person who’s full of compassion and ambition for her cause!

This part is a lil wacky, but after a while she starts attempting to create a sort of “wormhole” to drag energy into her planet from elsewhere. The contraption she builds actually works a bit TOO well to the point it’s not really like? a portal? but more like. a giant laser that goes through the layers of the universe?!? lmao. (So it’s not like, it’s a door that u enter from point A that takes u to point B, it’s more like a tunnel!)

Anyways. There’s a finite amount of energy given to each universe. Theres a limit, while the total energy of a system fluctuates here n now, they’re small fluctuations that get neutralized eventually. (I have a doc on how these work in more detail If you’re interested in reading it!) Devora’s weird machine contraption on the other hand, is a HUGE shift in the total energy of their universe. Which kinda fucks up the balance of everything BAD.

There’s this guy, named PRISM. They’re basically a god of sorts. Devora’s little attempt to play god and try to bend the rules kinda. upsets them. A bunch of stuff happens, but all 4 of the scientists r punished for this eventually, and prism ends their universe, a new one is created and they’re all made into deity-like concepts (which are called observers). to a point? At that point, Devora’s consciousness is LITERALLY torn apart into 2 pieces and placed in 2 different observers.

The different halves of her go through different identities, sometimes aware of who they used to be, sometimes completely detached from it, but looking for each other nonetheless. She also grows to resent her older colleagues and the idea of them as time goes by, because inherently shes getting punished and being held to the same regard as a group of people who did absolutely NOTHING to help anybody. Nor are they doing anything now! She was DOING SOMETHING. She was trying to help her home and thats like??? Wrong????? What??????

A huge chunk of her halves slowly losing themselves is also the belief that the only thing they’re missing is the other half. The belief that once they are back together everything will be okay again. Everything will go back to normal. Only if she can just be herself again. She can finish what she started! And eventually, the halves do find each other, but things don’t magically mend. Things don’t immediately go back to how they used to be. She’s spent so many lifetimes, she’s obviously changed. And whatever she’s changed into isn’t somebody she recognizes anymore. She loses most of her compassion and eventually ends up becoming what ends the universe (again) (but this time willingly).

I hope this?!. Makes sense mostly! Like i said i did skip over a buncha parts but this should explain the gist of it :) Thank you so much for the question!

[somediyprojects]

Wonders of the Solar System stitched by Yvette Cendes aka Andromeda321. SAL ($23.50) designed by ClimbingGoatDesigns.

“Finally got this back from the framers- just in time to enter my institute’s astronomy art show!

Pattern is from Climbing Goat designs!

I’m an astronomer and our little institute library is doing an art show this summer where people can contribute whatever. I knew I had to do this one but it was a little delayed in framing- worth the wait! :)

I’m starting a professor job next year and am definitely gonna hang this in my office once I move. Too pretty to hide away, and always good to confuse students on what astro/physicists are like in reality over stereotypes!”

[chihirolovebot]

So this is my full design for Physicist. Ngl the reason why the art style looks different to the road trip drawing I did is cause I’m bad at drawing people so I used a drawing template lol

I hc they put their hair in a bun when they want to concentrate on stuff. Also they sometimes wear their glasses but not all the time

HELLO !!! HELLO ?!??! HELLO !!!!!!!!

these are BEAUTIFUL designs my lovely !!! im turning this physicist over in my head like a salad spinner . theyre simply lovely . i love ur colour pallete so much !!! the blue hair is so real and i adore their cute little braid and long hair so much :') phys with a bun is incredibly correct btw ,, i feel like theyre the kinda person that definitely cant have their hair down when trying to concentrate on stuff .

their necklace is super cute !! at first i thought it was a crescent moon but now im looking a little closer .. is it amami's ring ? either way , i think its a very sweet addition . phys w the glasses !!! they look so pretty :D

thank u sosososo much for ur design !! it's just so lovely , i'll be thinking abt it all night :') i hope ur having a good day <3