#electric shovel

[worms-go-here]

Since we all like Bagger 288...

Heres Big Brutus!

Big Brutus is an electric shovel that was used in the 60's and 70's for coal mining in southeast Kansas. They've made it into a centerpiece for a coal mining museum in the town of West Mineral, Kansas.

Big Brutus is HUGE. He's 16 stories tall, 11 million pounds, and his bucket (as you can see here) easily accommodates a four-piece band. Brutus is so huge that you can see him over the trees as you approach the museum from miles away.

Besides his impressive size (huge, massive, you don't get how massive unless you go see) Brutus boasts some other crazy stats. At the museum, they've lined the path from the museum building to the shovel with his old cable. This hoist cable was used to lift his bucket and was 800 feet, weighed 25 pounds per foot, and had to be replaced every 6 months before failure.

Big Brutus's crawlers are 7 feet tall. He has four crawlers with two sets of tracks each, and each track has 32 pads. Each pad is 5.5 ft long and weighs 2,008 pounds. These gave Brutus a top speed of .22 mph. Each crawler had an oil tank that held 2,220 gallons of oil.

Despite being absolutely massive, Brutus was operated by a crew of only three people: The Oiler, who monitored the inside of the machine to make sure it was properly lubricated at all times, The Operator, who sat in the driver's seat and operated the bucket, and The Groundsman, who walked/drove alongside the machine and coordinated with the Operator to determine Brutus's path and actions. There was a sort of honorary fourth crew member, The Electrician, who did repairs on the machine's wiring, but as he wasn't required when the machine was actively working his position stays honorary.

Here's some pictures of the inside of Big Brutus where The Oiler would be working. It's a large space but it's full of all sorts of machine bits. I visited Brutus on my lonesome so I didn't have anyone to use for scale, but most of these bits and bobs are several feet taller than a human.

And here's some pictures of The Operator's area

Aaand here's a few more pictures of Brutus being BIG

If you're in America and can't go to Germany to visit Bagger 288 (I think that's where he's based), you can visit Big Brutus instead! He's big and cool! and orange

[quinsixtridrupled-k]

Fraymaking a wishlist roster for Fraymakers! Featuring indie game characters of all shapes and sizes!

[bryanvegaslash]

Indie 2vs2 Tag Team "Mahvel" Fighting Game "What If" Roster

[multi-fandom-simp00]

We're getting a goddamn Shovel Knight concert in LA and New York

This is hella crazy

[hardcoregamer]

10 Best Platformers On The Steam Deck

The Steam Deck may not be as associated with platformers as the Switch is, but Steam has a whole host of greats (primarily indies) that are worth a look. If we're talking specifically about games on Steam, then a lot is off the table, but you can definitely find some gems.

Check them out!

https://hardcoregamer.com/steam-deck-best-platformers/

[ms-morphine]

Ermmm what the flip!

[mtsodie]

ouh...........

[wheel-within-a-wheel]

(3/2): 20. a song with a lyric or a verse that you want to scream out?

this took so long cause i was scared to be honest about the answer

i think i had a Deltarune the (not) Musical - JEVIL - THE WORLD REVOLVING (EPILEPSY WARNING) phase as a teenager instead of an emo music phase. and it still hits for me even now even if it probably doesn't for anyone else. i know there are other songs out there that will fulfill my desire to scream stuff like "ALL AROUND THE GAME OF LIFE WE LAUGH AND PLAY AND REVEL DONT FALL OFF THE CAROUSEL OR ELSE YOULL MEET THE DEVIL" and "THERES A LIGHT INSIDE YOUR SOUL SLOWLY SHRINKING IN THE COLD FROM THE TRUTH DEEP DOWN YOU KNOW AND YET DARKER WE WILL GO" but this was my first and thus holds a special place in my heart

honorable mention to this which i would have easily put had it not been the exact same song i put for a previous ask

[andrewstech]

Experience groundbreaking advancements in heavy machinery with our expertly crafted electric rope shovel design. Elevate efficiency and productivity in mining operations with our innovative solutions tailored to your needs

[ms-demeanor]

If you're new to me yelling about this: my neighbors feed a feral cat colony but provide no other care to the colony like neuter/spay or vaccination. They free feed the cats, which attracts skunks, and they have (at the moment) about 20 cats in the colony, which attracts coyotes.

My dog has been skunked twice, she can't be outside in our yard unsupervised for even a minute because otherwise she'll try to eat cat shit because there's cat shit everywhere in my yard because the neighbors also haven't provided litterboxes or a sandbox for their ferals (their entire yard is paved) and if she has to go outside at night I need to clear the yard for coyotes before I let her out even in the small fenced area by our bedroom.

Also there are fleas fucking *everywhere* and even though my dog is on medication to prevent fleas I need to de-flea her twice a week in the summer; this is the case for every dog owner on the street.

The street I live on has a speed limit of 25mph but I hear cats getting hit frequently, so frequently that we have a resident group of crows who hang out and wait for them to become roadkill.

I have a collection of photos on my phone that show kittens with broken legs, kittens with missing eyes, kittens with horrible ear mite infections, and I have a dedicated shovel that I use for moving cat corpses that show up on my property. The cats that die on my property die from abscessed wounds from fights with other cats, respiratory infections, renal failure, and injuries from being hit by cars.

My spouse is immune compromised, and while toxoplasmosis is not a serious risk for most people, it IS a serious risk for people who are immune compromised (as are all the other infections that cats can potentially carry), which means that it's unsafe for me to grow vegetables in my yard for us to eat and it's unsafe for him to work in the yard.

I'd love to maybe open my windows at night and keep down the electricity costs of using the AC, but I can't because the entire side of my house that faces my neighbor's yard reeks of cat shit and piss year round.

Those are my next door neighbors.

Last week I was walking my dog as a neighbor around the corner was pulling out of her garage; she paused and rolled down her window and pointed at the cats on her lawn and said "Head's up, my cats are weirdly aggressive about small dogs and they just got let out so they're full of energy right now" and I nodded and crossed the street and didn't yell at my neighbor but *the temptation was there* because A) why are you letting your aggressive animals roam and B) Why are you letting your cats shit all over the neighborhood and C) Why are you exposing your owned cats to the risks of the large and territorial feral colony that is a literal stone's throw away from your house?

Anyway, and as always, Keep Your Fucking Cats Indoors.

[amplifythenoise]

Never Turn Your Back on a Friend: 50 Years Later

Picture it, Sicily… Kidding.  Also if you don’t get the above reference, get thee to a television quick. Cardiff, 1973, heavy metal band, Budgie released their 3rd album, Never Turn your Back on a Friend. Recorded at Rockfield Studios, the album solidified the band’s position as a dominant force within the early seventies hard rock/metal movement and their influence has been cited by the likes…

[dfybizapp]

Cordless Electric Snow Shovel Choose the BEST here!

[mockerycrow]

PACK CUDDLES (Hybrid!141 x GN!Human!Reader)

multiple characters masterlist

summary; the base’s heaters have all broken and aren’t due to be repaired for a week—it’s the middle of winter and you’re one of the few humans on base.

[WARNINGS; hybrid stuff, can be read as platonic or romantic, fluffy, sickness.]

THE BASE HEATERS decided to break at the worst possible moment—during the harshest part of the winter. They’re baseboard electric heaters that line every barracks room; the general community rooms such as the common area and the training rooms have central air and heating, but they didn’t decide to provide the barracks with the same luxury. It was never much of a problem, really. Nearly everyone on base was a hybrid of some kind, usually a bigger animal due to the needs of the military so they would produce body heat hot enough to keep them warm for the duration of when the electrical technicians would come in to fix the wiring, or replace the heaters.

Unfortunately for you, you are not a hybrid. You were born to completely human family members, and you have no hybrid genes in your chromosomes. Also unfortunately for you, you were for some reason one of the ones tasked with shoveling the pathways and roads on base—your station has no snow plows as the winters are usually mild to moderate, but this year decided to fuck you over harshly. You spent hours outside in the snow, bundled up in your warmest uniform with a winter coat, boots, gloves, hats, and even a balaclava on to keep as much warmth as possible. 

On day 2 without a heater, you woke up in the middle of the night unable to breathe through your nose. Your face is aching terribly—likely your sinuses—and it feels like you swallowed glass and gargled salt water right after. Your chest aches and you overall feel terrible, and you feel both hot and cold at the same time. Even after bundling up in your warmest hoodie and sweatpants—you slept with socks on, too—you just could not evade the sickness. Harsh coughs rack your body, your eyes tearing up as pain shoots through your chest and your throat to your ears. You groan and press your face into your pillow for a moment before you slowly kick your blankets off, pulling your hood up after sitting up.

You slip your feet into your slides and you check the time—0328. Fuck. The boys should be returning from a short mission soon. You hold in a sigh in fear of further hurting your aching throat, making your way towards your bedroom door. You grab your keys on the way out, letting your door close behind you. You squint as the hallway lights irritate your eyes, but you lay them no mind, walking down the hall to seek out the kitchen. Luckily, this base allowed basic medicines in a cabinet in the kitchen, so began your search for some cold medicine, and perhaps some sinus medicine too if you can take both at the same time.

To your sickly delight, no one seems to be awake right now—or at least hoarding the kitchen—despite many of the hybrids on base being nocturnal. You aren’t in the mood to really talk.. Not like you could, anyway. You shuffle your way to the counter with a harsh sniffle, opening the cabinet and rummaging around. You find some compatible cold and sinus medications, and you decide to grab a tea bag and the little plastic jar of honey, deciding that you want to soothe your throat. The air running through your throat makes it ache more. 

You put your forearms on the counter and arch your back, laying your head down as you wait for the electric kettle to heat up the water. At least the kitchen is warm. You holy a bit after it must be a few minutes, hearing the kettle heating up. You lift your head and see steam emitting from the opening, so you switch it off and begin to make your tea, stirring honey into the mug. You shove the pills into your mouth and swallow it down with a wince, using the tea. You sip the tea slowly until the mug is empty, so you quickly wash it out and put it in the sink to properly wash later. With your throat feeling a little better and a handful of paper towels, you head back to your room to go back to sleep.

The next time you wake up, it’s slow and uncomfortable. You’re on your back and you first feel the pain rippling through your throat with every wheezy breath you take—it’s a bit harder to breathe than before, even with the sickness—and then you notice the heat. Wait.. the heat? Isn’t the heater broken?

Your eyes flutter open, unfocused and bleary, with twinges of pain due to the dawn shining through your poor excuse of black-out curtains. Something shifts on your chest, causing you to glance down. When your eyes focus, you’re face to face with a wolf looking husky—striking blue eyes that are peering into your soul, the wolfdog’s fur being thick; white and grey, his ear twitching as he stares back at you. It takes you a moment before recognition filters through. It’s Soap!

A lazy smile spreads on your face as you pet his head between his ears, causing him to lick his snout. “Hey, Soap.” You croak. You sound absolutely dreadful. Three more heads pop out of view, making you flinch ever so slightly. “Jesus!” You hiss, looking at the other three. You’re met with a Grizzly bear, a Barbary lion and a Jaguar; Price, Ghost, and Gaz. Your bed springs croak under the weight of all of them—they broke your frame a year ago, still in the search for a frame that can handle a bunch of weight—and they shift closer to you. A low, rumbling noise comes from Ghost. There’s not much noise he truly makes in his lion form, he often is silent—except for the occasional chuff or intimidating growl—so you know the rumbling means something. 

You reach out to him with your other hand, tangling your fingers in his mane, feeling the rough texture between your fingers. His dark eyes stare at you and if you didn’t know Ghost as well as you do, you would likely be shitting yourself right now. He pushes his snout into your palm for a moment before his rough tongue peaks out and licks over your palm, making you wince from how prickly his tongue is. Ghost then lets out a huff, his breath reaching your face as you watch the Jaguar—Gaz—slink up to your face, the three of them; Gaz, Soap, and Ghost invading your personal space. No doubt that they can smell how sick you are. You think absentmindedly about when they returned from their mission. 

“I’m okay.” You say, your voice hoarse. You can’t help but wince at how you sound, but you don’t dwell on it too much when Gaz’s hard head pushes into your cheek, making you smile. “Yes, I promise.” You add on, moving your hand from Soap’s head to Gaz’s neck, your other hand still attending to Ghost’s mane. You glance over to where Price is, seeing his two little ears peering up behind Ghost. You groan dramatically and pat the spot next to yourself. “C’mon, Captain. You guys can be my heaters, I guess.” You weakly joke, earning a whine from Soap, who hasn’t moved an inch from laying on top of you. You make a noise in return, your eyes feeling heavy once again when the heat surrounding you finally becomes comfortable. “Supposed to fix ‘em soon.” You mumble, already half asleep by the time you feel Price’s nose sniff your cheek, checking in on you.

[mynamesaplant]

Forgiveness is Electric

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Just a little short story about @critterbitter's hc of Emmet, Ingo, and Elesa. This is between the Volume Control and Volume Control (Reprise). Just a tiny change, Emmet caught Tynamo bc I sort of forgot when he did... My bad. Please go take a look at Critter's work, it is beautiful in every sense of the word.

I lied about posting to AO3 last time with Yearning for Wood Floors, but I will update that soon along with this one.

Enjoy!~

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I do not think she will like those.”

“Who doesn’t love sweets?”

Ingo argued, plucking a box of Snom-Caps and turning it over and over in his hands. He contemplated the choices of candy in the aisle, the teenage clerk puffing their long, purple-streaked hair from their eyes behind the counter as the two children agonized over their decision. The clerk, Dakota, saw Ingo and Emmet in here all the time, the former had something of a sweet tooth and the latter… Well, whatever the opposite of a sweet tooth was, that was Emmet. The kid just loved sour things.

It wasn’t unusual to see them, but it didn’t usually take this long for them to make their selection. They had been there for nearly fifteen minutes, painstakingly reading each and every label and discussing them in hushed undertones. That was unusual by itself. Ingo was not known for his volume control.

Although unusual, they weren’t worried about them doing anything shady like stealing or being careless and knock things off the shelf. Might as well let them go about their business. To pass the time, they watched the fretful newly acquired Tynamo circle around them faster and faster until Emmet snatched the Pokémon deftly from the air and soothingly stroked its back.

“I am Emmet. We do not know what she likes.”

“We must do something! I just feel so dreadful.”

Emmet could see Ingo working himself up over this, just as he had a few hours ago, and Emmet placed a reassuring hand on his brother’s arm. His smile and eyes softened as his twin turned to him, Ingo’s eyes glittering with emotion and whatever proclamation dying on the back of his tongue.

He hadn’t meant it. He really hadn’t. He always got too loud when he was excited.

It had just backfired on him horribly.

Ingo cringed even now as he remembered the tears in her eyes, her hands slapped over her ears, and eyes huge with confusion and pain. She had run off before he could even apologize, and that knowledge was eating him alive all day.

Candy wouldn’t fix this. In his heart of hearts, he knew that, and maybe he had come here to grab himself some of his favorite snacks to ease the pain of losing a potential friend.

It was hard for them to understand others. Emmet and Ingo were so in-sync with each other that everyone seemed to be moving so much slower by comparison. It was like playing charades with someone who was underwater, the twins made perfect sense to one another, but it was unclear to everyone else.

This was not new to them, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating.

With their moms being busy with work and their uncle who didn’t have much interest with them most times, Emmet and Ingo came to rely on each other almost exclusively. Drayden would give them a little bit of pocket change, but never much. They had to be ultraconservative with what he gave them and had taken it upon themselves to run around Anville Town to take little odd jobs.

Leaves to rake? Oran berries to pick? Snow to shovel?

Emmet and Ingo did it all and saved what they could. They barely scraped together the money to purchase the Pokéballs needed to catch Tynamo and for additional balls to try and catch Ingo a starter.

Even though they knew everyone, they weren’t really close to anyone in town.

That could have been different if Ingo hadn’t ruined everything!

“Perhaps sweets are not the solution…”

Ingo finally admitted, setting the box down and rising to his feet. Readjusting his cap on his head and dusting off his knees to unconsciously tidy his appearance, Ingo’s frown deepened in thought. Even if he and Emmet apologized to her, Miss Elesa would not understand them. Drat! If only he had remembered her hearing aids, he had completely forgotten them tucked behind her black hair.

Emmet watched his face scrunch up, clearly having a long inner dialogue with himself where he alternatively berated himself and told himself that there was no crying over spilled milk. Gray eyes scanning the shelf, he took a bag of sour gummy-Bewear for himself, and chocolate covered pretzels for his brother, before hauling them to the counter where Dakota waited.

Tynamo drifted just below his elbow, still quite nervous around new people and often retreating to its ball when too anxious. Emmet’s soft encouragement was the only thing keeping the EleFish out while Dakota rang up both bags.

“Tynamo? Good for you, kiddo. I hear they’re not easy to catch.”

They rested their elbows on the counter, chin resting atop with a kind smile to the quieter twin. Dakota could see him beaming with pride, but he merely nodded, shuffling on the spot while he fished in the pocket of his overalls for some money. His Tynamo, like its trainer, seemed a little bashful at their words, and retreated into its ball.

“200… I think you brother is comatose over there.”

Dakota said not unkindly. Emmet jerked his head to where his brother stood motionless in front of the candy.

“Ingo!”

It was Ingo’s turn to jerk out of his, as Dakota had put it, “comatose state”. He trotted over to his side, staring at the bags of candies with confusion before it all seemed to click into place.

“You did not have to spend your pocket money on me.”

Emmet’s smile softened at the bashful note in his sibling’s voice. He wanted to. Ingo was feeling down, his twin often overthinking problems and burning himself out in the process. Emmet liked to take a step back to listen and reflect on people and conversations. A little break would do Ingo some good, so he insisted on the treats.

“I am Emmet. I wanted to. Yup!”

While Dakota bagged their treats in a small brown paper bag, they couldn’t help but lean over the counter to examine them. Although many people didn’t understand the secret code that the twins exchanged between glances, mouth twitches, and hand movements, Dakota could tell something was awry. Withholding the bag, they leaned over the counter with a faintly curious expression and a light tone.

“You guys alright?”

Unsurprisingly, the two exchanged looks, and a wordless conversation was held between them while Dakota waited. It was Ingo who swiveled his head back to face them, his face knit into a calculating grimace that seemed a little less friendly than usual, but only marginally.

“Yes,” he said slowly, eyes not breaking with the clerk, but they could see him shifting uncomfortably. “Emmet and I are attempting to right a wrong. However, we are encountering several roadblocks.”

There is a pause. Dakota still held the bag just out of reach as they gnawed on their lower lip. This wasn’t really their business, and they weren’t the type to stick their nose in where it didn’t belong… They thought of Drayden, who spent a lot of time in Opelucid and not watching his nephews – he barely spent any time with them.

They’re just kids.

“Do you need some help? It’s my job to help customers in the store y’know.”

Another pause. Another exchange of glances.

“I-” Ingo tries to being, already hard pressed to say anything and even less so when his sibling elbowed him in the ribs and shot him a look. He wouldn’t be allowed to take all the blame. “We upset one of our classmates with our carelessness. We think she was attempting to befriend us, but- uh… there were a few errors on our part.”

“And you’re trying to get candy for her to forgive you?”

“We thought about it, but it grew too complicated. We do not know what candy she likes, but more importantly, we do not think it’s a suitable apology.”

The clerk nodded, tapping the counter in thought as they tried to piece together some genuine advice for the boys.

“I think it’s a nice peace offering, but I think an apology would be better.”

“We broke her hearing aids… Yep…”

Emmet croaked suddenly, shrinking back in shame at the same time that Ingo grabbed the brim of his hat to tug it lower over his eyes.

“Ah,” Dakota hummed, tapping the counter even faster. They meant the new family that moved in from Sinnoh. They remembered their dads talking about the new signs that had to go all over town for the girl’s safety. Dakota couldn’t remember her name. “How did you break them?” They asked, already knowing the answer.

“Volume control.”

Ingo cringed, remembering his uncle’s warning about his naturally loud voice. Inside voice, Drayden had been emphasizing, and Ingo was trying to take those words to heart, but it was difficult. Since Ingo’s face didn’t emote well, he relied on his voice and his movement to articulate his emotions to others. They nod sympathetically.

“You didn’t see them?”

“No…”

The boy was squirming now, his shame and embarrassment with the situation reaching an all-time high. He felt Emmet moving to his side, reassuringly pressing against his arm, and resting his head on his twin’s shoulder. A flood of comfort helped Ingo release a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.

Behind the counter, the clerk was rummaging through something – although tall for their age, Emmet and Ingo couldn’t see what they were doing. They heaved a box onto the counter, tipping it so the contents spilled out for them to see, and the boys were confused.

“Headphones?”

Emmet leaned forward on his tiptoes to look at the colorful array of boxes that ranged from normal headphones to ones that had Pikachu and Eevee ears topping them.

“Yeah, uh, maybe if she wears these, you’ll remember right away that she has headphones in.”

It was a half-baked idea. In truth, Dakota felt a bit sheepish about it now that the idea was out of their head, but when they looked up, the boys were beaming – well, Emmet beamed. Ingo reminded of them of their friend’s Purrloin in a way they couldn’t quite put their finger on.

“Bravo! What a marvelous suggestion!”

Ingo practically cheered, stepping beside Emmet to look through the headphones. It was probably going to cost them a bit from the tags on the boxes, but it would be worth it. The headphones would immediately remind Ingo that she had hearing aids in so he would be more inclined to get Miss Elesa’s attention in a different fashion, but it also might do the same for others who were unaware of her deafness.

“Sure – er, thank you…” Dakota was looking at the prices now and mentally smacked their forehead. They probably couldn’t afford the headphones. “I’ll-” They hesitate. It almost pained them to say what they were going to next. “I’ll pay for them so you can take them to her now.” The twins’ eyes went wide, both about to protest when Dakota interrupted, “In exchange, you can do a few chores for me at my place. I need to do some yardwork, but it always gives me hay fever. Sound like a deal?”

The answer was easy for them. Dakota told them to pick ones that they thought Miss Elesa would like.

“I think these ones are quite dashing.”

Ingo said, picking up the box with the Pikachu ears. Emmet pursed his lips and shook his head.

“Nope. Too big. Not a gamer girl.”

They continued to rummage through the boxes. They agreed that she must like Electric types. She had a Blitzle as her partner after all.

“I cannot recall, she is from Hoenn, correct?”

Emmet shrugged, unsure himself because they had both been looking through a magazine with an expose on the newest train lines running out of Nimbasa when she had been introduced. That just meant to them that, when the time came, going on their Pokémon journey by rail would be all the easier.

“Not sure.” He looked at the box Ingo had in his hand and his smile broadened, nodding in agreement to his brother’s unasked query. The perfect balance of subtle but stylish. “I am Emmet. Those are perfect.”

Plusle and Minun headphones.

[tibby-art]

Had a dream in your art style where I was hanging out with cub on the beach drinking soda. He was wearing his firework-stained lab coat and board shorts and also a neon pink floral patterned binder and he was trying to explain to me that it was theoretically possible to use the soda to construct a surfboard out of sand if we had access to a very specific voltage of electricity. I asked him why he kept drinking the soda then and he just started shoveling sand in his mouth rather than answering.

hi anon sorry for neglecting to answer this for a minute it was because i wanted to wait until i had time to sit down and actually draw this because it may have killed me i fear