#me is unshore

[meeravandaseera]

Enigma of the Mermaids in Palma Ceia in Tampa, Florida's Gulf Coast.

The Supposed Anne Bonny Mermaid and the Stingray-maiden named Qualenya

During my initial research, the tides of time led me to a some obscure mermaid legends, one of a stingray-maid named Qualenya and one legend of the piratess Anne Bonny which tells of how she supposedly turned into a mermaid. As of now, I have only fragments from what I was able to find. I could only find finformation from Flickr, Wikimedia Commons, and entries from a Blogspot.

According to what I was able to find, both are said to be from Palma Ceia, a neighborhood in Tampa in Florida's Gulf Coast. Qualenya, the stingray-maid, wielding an anchor, and Anne Bonny the pirate mermaid, wielding a sword, are both featured on the seal for Palma Ceia already since the 1920s as most of these depictions above are said to stem from that time, perhaps already since 1906. Those depicted seals above seem to have been common in advertisements for newspapers. I could only find finformation about both mermaids primarily through Wikimedia Commons or Flickr where sea-rtain depictions of either were published, all of them being released as Public Domain. Most images only got released as of 2018, but I could find some finformation from earlier, namely a retelling of Qualenya's legend because Blogspot entries of "Unusual History Florida" or "Unusual History Tampa" related some legends from the region apparently in 2012 despite that the provided link further below says "2016" in it. Regarding that, I am quite confused. It appears that from what is related, some legends or most may come from the 19th and 20th centuries as "Unusual History Florida" for finstance states how "there is also an older legend from the early 1800's (...)" and this is also more evident in the latter related legend of Anne Bonny below in this scroll. Still and all, from what I could find, it could be that the legend of Qualenya may have been passed down by the Seminole Native American people. I figured that because on a Wikimedia Commons entry of a modern artistic depiction of Qualenya which I refrain from showing here, the description says that the artist under the user Mills20000 got this story told from a Seminole Native American woman on a Native American storytelling festival. The artist... "drew this based on a story that a Seminole Indian woman told me at a yearly Native American story telling festival. Qualenya is the queen of the sting rays that guides them on their yearly migration along the coast. The migration was spiritually important and an excellent source of food that seem to flow from a divine source it was so massive".

Above, one can sea a supposed petroglyph of her alongside. The description on Wikimedia Commons states that "Qualenya, a stingray mermaid depicted in a petroglyph in Crystal River, Florida taken during the 1917 excavation at Crystal River by Clarence B. Moore".

Another above illustration of Qualenya from Wikimedia Commons apparently came from an early 20th century story-book meant for the youth which seems finteresting how her legend may have been related in that tide over such means, if what is stated is true.

Unusual History Florida relates Qualenya's legend as follows (http://unusualhistorytampa.blogspot.com/2016/11/qualenya-sting-ray-mermaid-of-floridas.html) ...

"Long ago there was a boy who lived with his fisherman uncle in Florida. The uncle was very cruel and made the boy clean fish all day long and never let him play with any friends. Then one day the boy was emptying a bucket of fish and he heard a voice say “If you spare me, I will grant you any wish.” It was coming from a sting ray. The boy took the sting ray to the water’s edge where it transformed into a beautiful girl with the wings and tail of a ray. She told him her name was Qualenya, the queen of the sting rays. Before  swimming away she handed him a golden shell with which to call her for his wish. That night his uncle asked the boy to bring the ray inside to prepare for dinner. When the boy told him he had released it, the uncle got very angry. He chased the boy out of the house and down to the shore. The boy took out the golden shell and blew inside it. Immediately, Qualenya appeared and the boy asked her to take him far away. He climbed onto her back and they swam together down the Florida coast, followed by all the other rays. He never saw his cruel uncle or cleaned another fish again. Every year all of the rays in Florida make this same journey to celebrate the boy who saved their queen".

The depiction of the Anne Bonny Mermaid above is a bit edited by myself, originally she does not have something on her chest. Both descriptions of this depiction of hers state that she, "the most fearsome of all sea hags first appeared in the winter of 1733, the same year Anne Bonny was tossed into the sea upon her conviction for piracy. They say that Anne made a deal with The Sailor’s Devil, that if she allowed him to marry her unborn daughter, he’d grant her eternal life beneath the sea. Ever since, all through the Caribbean and up the Florida coast, Bonny has been luring curious sailors to rocky shallows where their boats are crushed and sunk". Supposedly, it comes from a 1800s book on pirates, but its title is not stated in any tide, therefore I cannot swim to any conclusions.

Oh, well... I wish that I someday may fish more finformation about these. As of now, one cannot say much about them for shore. Such aforementioned sources are not utterly credible, unfortunately. I hope to perhaps someday get to know more reliable sources upon these mermaids since I am utterly fascinated by this. Of course, folklore is something passed down over the means of oral tradition and thus always shifts, but these sources that I have stated here are not very well for re-sea-rch, especially because much seems more ambiguous and in unclear waters like how the supposed book on pirates' title is not mentioned.

If any stated source shall be unavailable, attempt to sea it with any archival site.

Thanks for diving into me and my sea as always. :>

[ask-annamary]

Do you make your tuna sandwiches correctly? As in, devoid of those dreadful pieces of celery, properly salted, and with the right mayo-to-tuna ratio?

I have an inkling as to who you are, Anonymouse... but I will not make any assumptions.

To be completely honest, it is actually quite easy to keep tabs on what you consume and how your perchases impact the world around you. If you wish to have a tool around to help be more mindful of your food, I highly recommend https://www.seafoodwatch.org/ , it is an immensely helpful resource and I even used it to formulate this response. You can even contact them for printed guides on what you should and should not eat. I personally carry around a few cards for myself and to share with-

Ah... I have noticed a good number of you expressing interest in hearing more about my "infodumps", so I surpose it wouldn't hurt to indulge every now and again. Many of my coworkers have commented about how verbose I can be, so I try to scale down my words from time to time. This will not be one of those times.

Ah yes... the world of industrial fishing. To be as clear as water, I am fully aware of how flawed that system is as a whole. Certain practices are downright devastating to oceans, but alas it is what these companies do to "make ends meet." If you asked me I'd believe the only end they're meeting is the deep end.

Now, where should I begin... ah, let's tackle Bluefin Tuna as a whole. The reason behind this strict avoidance is shrimple: it's overfising. The rate at which these fish are being collected far exceeds the rate at which they can reproduce, meaning that if current practices continue on these fish will not be able to make up for all the numbers lost to fishing.

The method of which these fish are caught can also be quite problematic. Methods such as FADs and drifting longlines can be detrimental not only to tuna, but to many other ocean going creatures. Drifting longlines for example, have a dire habit of getting other creatures ensnared by their hooks, such as various sea birds and sea turtles. FADs, fish aggregating devices, are floating structures created to attract the attention of Tuna, but they bring along other fish that are not intended to be caught like various species of sharks. The phenomena of animals other than the target species being caught is called bycatch, and many of these animals needlessly perish in this process.

Now, one may think farming these fish will be the shorefire solution to this conundrum. Many fish can be sustainably farmed, but one must keep in mind that tuna are gargantuan predators with appetites to match their size. It can take up to FIFTEEN TONS of fish caught from the wild to just produce one ton of tuna meat, meaning more fish are hunted for a mere fraction in return. On top of that, these farms produce a great amount of... er... effluent into the surrounding waters, which then throws the local ecosystem off its balance.

Truly the best way to avoid these issues in fishery is to focus on Tuna whose species are not threatened by over fishing, and more importantly to make sure the fisheries you are purchasing them from are not practicing harmful methods of fishing. One more thing to keep in mind is which ocean they hail from. While species such as Skipjacks and Yellowtails are by no means threatened in the Indian Ocean, many fisheries do not follow rules put into place to prevent over fishing.

Did I cover everything? Or... most of everything? That must be a lot to take in at once, but I am not quizzing any of you on anything. Again, if you are feeling unshore about what youre buying, whether it be tuna, trout, tilapia, or really any seafood, don't hesitate to consult a Seafood Watch guide.

The Deep Diver's excitement slowed to a stop as he remained silent for a moment, realizing how long he had gone on and on and on about... what, something that had initially begun as a debate on tuna sandwiches? Lights within the dark of his helmet began to glow dimly... as if she were... blushing!

... Thank you for listening. I have work to dive back into. Goodbye.

[trashy-milifilou]

so apparently posting credit on a funny meme post got me some new followers, so here's my funny thing about me so you can get to know me better: I am currently listening to moby dick as an audio book, I have just finished chapter 32, which contains the narrator Ishmael explains his taxonomy of whales to us.

Note that Ishmael believes whales are fish because holy Jonah said so, and has barely started his first ever whale fishing journey. Also yes, this means that over 5 hours into listening to this story, we are yet to "be lost in its [the deep's] unshored, harbourless immensities."

I am listening to this book because I am playing the longing, and the games collection of public domain books to read felt like a challenge

[engagekiss]

your new flag is so me thank you for your lovely creation :3

The Lady was not expecting such a positive reaction to it， fufufu．．． Ki’s thinking of making an attraction system terms based off Carinamoe — Similar to terms used by those who experience queerplatonic attraction， though The Cruel Mistress is unshore of whether this is something that others desire or not．．．

[darkesttimelinestuff]

Queequeg’s Final Repose

“Thanks for coming. I know it’s early,” Scully says, chin tucked into her chest, her boots shifting uncomfortably in the mud.

“Morning.” Mulder nods sharply, walking down the grassy embankment to her side.

“It seemed appropriate to do something to honor him.”

The sun, slung low on the horizon, casts shadows over the city, nearly hiding the grief etched on her face. And something else. Resentment, maybe. Scully hugs herself against the early-spring chill; the wind is biting near the water.

“How do we do this? I’ve never paid my respects to a dog before.”

“Didn’t you have pets growing up, Mulder?”

“We had a dog, yeah, but he ran away shortly after Samantha…” He trails off. “I always suspected my mom gave him away, actually.”

Scully’s brow furrows as she takes this in: a boy grieving for his lost baby sister has his dog, likely his only emotional support, ripped away from him.

“What makes you think that?”

“Baxter never ran away.” Mulder squints into the distance at the memory. “We’d let him run up and down the beach, play at the park with other dogs. He always came back to me. But one day I went to school and when I came home Baxter was gone. I never saw him again.”

“Oh, Mulder,” Scully sighs, a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

“Did you have a dog growing up?”

“With four willifull kids, we had pets in the house constantly.” Scully smiles. “Missy brought home orphaned cats and hurt puppies. It drove my dad nuts, but I think Charlie’s snake was the angriest I’ve ever seen him over a pet. Not many made it through the bigger moves, unfortunately. Mom would find a kind neighbor to take them in.”

“Even the snake?”

“I don’t remember.”

“So, how did you say goodbye to your furry friends, Scully? Did you have a pet cemetery in your backyard?”

Scully huffs a sharp cold breath of laughter. “Not quite. But we respectfully laid to rest our lost pets.”

Mulder has a sudden flash of decaying rabbit; a rope of snake hanging from young Dana’s hands: stories divulged by Maggie, while Scully, ever protective of her privacy, lay in a hospital bed unable to defend herself.

He blinks the images away and gestures to a small bag dangling on Scully’s wrist.

“Oh,” Scully says. “These are a couple of Queequeg’s things.”

“His favorite toys?” Mulder asks and Scully nods, a lump forming in her throat. “Can I see?”

She hands Mulder the chewed leash, a ball, a small plush bone. “That last one is from Mr. Bruckman,” she manages hoarsely and bites her lip. “He left me some food and that toy. Queequeg loved it.”

“He was a good dog,” Mulder says, his sympathetic gaze so unnerving that she averts her eyes.

“You hated him,” she retorts, hoping it didn’t come out as mean as it sounded to her.

“I didn’t hate him,” Mulder replies softly, leaning against the guardrail. “I’m just of the school of thought that dogs shouldn’t resemble rodents. But he made you happy. He was important to you and that’s what counts. Plus, you had matching hair.” He can’t help but joke and wonders if he bears as much responsibility for Queeqeg’s death as Big Blue. Or an alligator.

“Thanks, Mulder. But don’t ever compare me to a dog again,” she warns, bumping his shoulder with her own.

“Never, Scully.”

“So when a pet passed in my family,” she begins, then pauses to take a shaky breath, “we’d bury it in our backyard with a favourite toy. Then Mom would make a big, unhealthy meal to help us forget. But I don’t have a backyard.”

Mulder nods understandingly. ”Do you want me to hold these for you?”

“Yeah. Just give me a minute,” Scully replies. She takes out the bone and hands him the bag.

“Take your time.”

Tears are welling in her eyes, but there is also deep gratitude there too and, Mulder thinks, maybe she doesn't blame him, after all. He rubs her back gently.

With another shaky breath, Scully bends to scoop up a handful of dirt. “Death is only a launching into the region of the strange Untried; it is but the first salutation to the possibilities of the immense Remote, the Wild, the Watery, the Unshored,” Scully recites and let’s the dusted earth trickle between loose fingers, the grains swept away with the breeze. Then she tosses the toy into the water.

There is comfort in the warmth and silence of the moment and Scully, heavy and sullen, leans into Mulder. He doesn’t offer vague apologies or empty promises; he allows her to grieve. Though only in her life briefly, Queequeg had occupied a large portion of her heart. Death is a career choice for Scully, but nothing prepared Dana for the sudden loss of the one friend she came home to every night.

For several minutes nothing exists but their heavy breaths and the rushing river. Finally, Scully straightens, squaring her shoulders.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yes, fine.”

“Buy you a big, greasy breakfast?” Mulder offers, pocketing the leash and toy.

“Sounds perfect.” Scully smiles appreciatively as they turn from the river and up toward the busy district, where coffee shops and diners are quickly filling with early birds.

“You know, Scully, I never pictured you littering like that.”

@today-in-fic

[angelic-advisor]

Hi new to hypnotistsm. I'm intrested but unshore

Hello,

Feel free to DM me if you want to talk. Always glad to introduce new people to the subject.

And check out @safehypnosis for people in our community to avoid. Stay safe and have fun!

[homestuckkinnies]

:33c Hello! It's me again! I just had a question.. I know I kin Nepeta Leijon and Nepeta Peixes.. But I have a f33ling I kin other fursions of Nepeta too! I'm just unshore which.. And I was wondering if I could get a pendulum to know if it isn't too difficult? Like if I kin any other blood/kidswap fursions? Thank mew in advance and my apurrlogies if it's too much!

No Worries Nep! Because This Is A Lot, Im Going To Put It All Under The Cut. I Hope That This Helps!

- Mod Kanaya

Nepeta Megido - Strong No

Nepeta Nitram - Soft Yes

Nepeta Captor - Strong No

Nepeta Vantas - Incredibly Strong No

Nepeta Maryam - Soft Yes

Nepeta Pyrope - Strong Yes

Nepeta Serket - Strong No

Nepeta Zahhak - Soft No

Nepeta Makara - Soft Yes

Nepeta Ampora - Soft Yes

Nepeta Egbert - Incredibly Strong No

Nepeta Strider - Strong Yes

Nepeta Harley - Soft Yes

Nepeta Lalonde - Strong No

Nepeta Crocker - Soft No

Nepeta English - Soft Yes

I Didnt Include Which Ways You May Have Been Swapped, You Know Yourself Best - I Reccomend Meditating On These Answers To Understand What They Might Mean. Good Luck Dear!

[birchbritches]

Tipping Vessels 

Two rains or more shelved, unshored, in a sidewall-settled wheel, a derelict hub, a pail or wading pool, two dozen beetles with wicker tickers to a flick, the new mucous of an old wait,

the breeding grounds of a standstill at a tilt like a still-life, an amalgam set down into a forensic telling; we walk the yard tipping vessels over, let no standing water know me too long. The bugs go on to other things.

- B B Pine 

[mobydickmusical]

Moby Dick musical lyrics: Cetology

- These are not official lyrics, they’re transcribed by me. 

- Source novel quotes for the lyrics are under the cut.

CETOLOGY

Track: 10 

Character: Ishmael (solo)

Range: G#2-G4 (as performed by Dave Malloy April 9 2018)

Already we have boldly launched upon the deep

And soon we shall be lost

In its harbourless, unshored immensity  

So ere that come to pass

Let us get into the famous, long and boring

Whaling chapters!

I shall start

By classifying all the whales

But this is a ponderous task

And I shall not pretend to be exhaustive

For who am I

That I should try to hook leviathan’s nose?

Who am I?

Though I have sailed and swam through vast oceans and libraries

Still I'm sometimes dumb about things outside my mind

Everything I read might be wrong

Sometimes libraries lie

Though I'd never mean to steer you wrong

I just might be unreliable

I am on my own

It's my me and my white bread head

And the ocean is too deep for me to fathom

And life is just too big for me to bear

But who am I to compare my despair with the shaking of the sea?

Who am I to give to voices I could never be?

But I will try

So here we go:

A whale is a spouting fish with a horizontal tail

There, you have him!

And you may classify him thus:

Finback whale, Humpback whale

Razor-back whale, Black fish whale

Sperm whale, Right whale

Sulphur-bottom whale and Blue whale

Grampus whale, Thrasher whale

Elephant whale, Iceberg whale

Cape whale, Narwhale

Pudding-headed whale and Junk whale

Cannon whale, Leading whale

Bottle-nosed whale, Coppered whale

Scragg whale, Quog whale

Killer whale and of course white whale

And porpoises, porpoises

Huzza, Algerine, Mealy-mouthed porpoises

Yes, porpoises are whales too, ooh...

But these are just some words classified

In a guidebook on a dusty shelf

Who knows what they feel inside?

Who knows what they name themselves?

And there's other ones that I don't know

There's so much that I don't know

For who am I?

Sometimes I wish these whales could swim

In an ocean that's free of men like me

Their deep aquatic paradise

Devoid of slack-jawed hunters

And the poison of our wake

Cause men like me try anything

And most everything we try

Turns out to be some big mistake

Like this could be an amazing song

Tying each type of whale to bigger themes

Like God, determinism, ecology and capitalism

Race, monomaniacism, or America!

But it was stated at the outset that this system

Would not be here perfected

And you cannot but plainly see I’ve kept my word

For who am I?

Oh god, keep me from ever completing anything...!

SOURCE QUOTES

These are all just from the title chapter, since this song essentially takes a very succinct slice of it, then adds in sections of Dave’s further thoughts to leave us with some more modern and more in-your-face message-telling. 

Ch 32 Cetology

Already we are boldly launched upon the deep; but soon we shall be lost in its unshored, harborless immensities. Ere that come to pass; ere the Pequod's weedy hull rolls side by side with the barnacled hulls of the Leviathan; at the outset it is but well to attend to a matter almost indispensable to a thorough appreciative understanding of the more special leviathanic revelations and allusions of all sorts which are to follow.

It is some systematized exhibition of the whale in his broad genera, that I would now fain put before you. Yet is it no easy task. The classification of the constituents of a chaos, nothing less is here essayed. Listen to what the best and latest authorities have laid down.

///

[...] As no better man advances to take this matter in hand, I hereupon offer my own poor endeavors. I promise nothing complete; because any human thing supposed to be complete, must for that very reason infallibly be faulty. I shall not pretend to a minute anatomical description of the various species, or—in this place at least—to much of any description. My object here is simply to project the draught of a systematization of cetology. I am the architect, not the builder.

But it is a ponderous task; no ordinary letter-sorter in the Post-office is equal to it. To grope down into the bottom of the sea after them; to have one's hands among the unspeakable foundations, ribs, and very pelvis of the world; this is a fearful thing. What am I that I should essay to hook the nose of this Leviathan! The awful tauntings in Job might well appal me. "Will he (the Leviathan) make a covenant with thee? Behold the hope of him is vain!" But I have swam through libraries and sailed through oceans; I have had to do with whales with these visible hands; I am in earnest; and I will try.

///

Next: how shall we define the whale, by his obvious externals, so as conspicuously to label him for all time to come? To be short, then, a whale is a spouting fish with a horizontal tail. There you have him.

///

[...] These include the smaller whales.—I., The Huzza Porpoise; II., The Algerine Porpoise; III., The Mealy-mouthed Porpoise.

To those who have not chanced specially to study the subject, it may possibly seem strange, that fishes not commonly exceeding four or five feet should be marshalled among WHALES—a word, which, in the popular sense, always conveys an idea of hugeness. But the creatures set down above as Duodecimoes are infallibly whales, by the terms of my definition of what a whale is—i.e. a spouting fish, with a horizontal tail.

///

But there are a rabble of uncertain, fugitive, half-fabulous whales, which, as an American whaleman, I know by reputation, but not personally. I shall enumerate them by their forecastle appellations; for possibly such a list may be valuable to future investigators, who may complete what I have here but begun. If any of the following whales, shall hereafter be caught and marked, then he can readily be incorporated into this System, according to his Folio, Octavo, or Duodecimo magnitude:—The Bottle-Nose Whale; the Junk Whale; the Pudding-Headed Whale; the Cape Whale; the Leading Whale; the Cannon Whale; the Scragg Whale; the Coppered Whale; the Elephant Whale; the Iceberg Whale; the Quog Whale; the Blue Whale; etc.

///

Finally: It was stated at the outset, that this system would not be here, and at once, perfected. You cannot but plainly see that I have kept my word. But I now leave my cetological System standing thus unfinished, even as the great Cathedral of Cologne was left, with the crane still standing upon the top of the uncompleted tower. For small erections may be finished by their first architects; grand ones, true ones, ever leave the copestone to posterity. God keep me from ever completing anything. [...]

[existentialexitwounds]

(A)causal Ghost Triangulations or a Somnambulist's Déjà Vu

(A)causal Ghost Triangulations or a Somnambulist's Déjà Vu (I have a mouth and I must scream.) A joke on some nihilist’s (H)allmark card, and always they can't see all the ways in which their ends begin again. Diverging paths and that cat left scratching shadows past without amends or mend. Uncertain times in our measured rhyme. Moving to and through to the reason of a light unseason. The sea I see when I see you. All along that tragic shore where coasts reach past the immeasurable perimeters of a dream. Where I can see something unsewn and unsown and conspire to be. What most won't dream, futures unconceived. The sightless and the Basilisk. Arms out across the wrong semblances of apparatuses. The false appearances of Pascal's Wagers, beyond all parables of elephants, the vag(üe)aries, and the vac(gr)ancies. Those distant shores unshored by the frailties of afterthoughts. The impossible vertex between a dream and all tomorrows every blackness wakes from. Heart is the measure of all things. We produce portions of measurement by poetry or word; hoping one day, someone will meet that immeasurable measure and understand. Ⱥ🜈A二X二 You are infinitely irreducible. Never let anyone convince you otherwise. Consider the Birds What some see but won’t sea. Heavenly fibers moving through the dream. Stitched to and through, And embolden me to se(e)a lines not yet graced by traces of you. All the lessons learned out. All redundancies revealed unreal. With something reified in me. All comparisons compared out. A place where I am felt real. Where slaves to fate will finally see. Oh how the Heavens conspire to greet that shore. As I awaken from my stirring screaming sleep and utter those three words to someone close to me. Where you’ll finally understand what I mean. For some it’s: so long, but hope, for never too long.

[enchantedisabella]

I was utterly shaken to the ninth degree after I read it... really washes over you like a wave of something surreally haunting... made me unshore of my life...

new story

it’s been 3 months, so i’m legally allowed to share my first officially published story for free. previously published in Massacre Magazine, under the Gorey Skelton pen name

leave feedback in the replies! (i seriously love feedback, but my tumblr inbox is a mess)

[thewearyluddite-blog]

Mercurial Seas

Mercurial Seas   Words pulled from Moby Dick Chapters 107-118   Uncivilized and far-distant seas, an air-freighted demijohn. dead black in [its] rolling Rings of Eternity, gently rocking invisible flood-tide beyond all visible horizons, their own mild, uncontinented [it], interflow with blue heavens… so form the white breakers of the milky way. Gently awful stirrings seem to speak of some hidden soul beneath, millions of mixed shades and shadows, drowned dreams… tossing like slumberers in their beds, ever-rolling waves but made so by their restlessness. Inhale [its] new found salt breath, immense Remote, the Wild, the Watery, the Unshored, all-receptive… alluringly spread forth… the hearts of infinite Pacifics, like hearth-stone cats they purr. Tranquil beauty and brilliance of [it’s] skin, conceals a remorseless fang, mild blue hill-sides, a storm for every calm, golden, loveliness unfathomable, lovely sunset [it]. Candid and impartial, [its] heart unverdured, eternal tossings the wild fowl finds his only rest. [Its] waves for pall-bearers, immeasurable burning-glass, the hand that holds thee no longer will guide my earthly way by thee… by log and by line; these shall conduct me, and show me my place on the sea.  

[crustacian-gascon-blog]

🌺, 🍫, 🎬

🌺: What’s your favorite flower? How do you feel about roses?

HIBISCUS AND ORCHIDS, BUT ROSES ARE PRETTY AND SMELL NI-CE TOO AS WELL AS -COMING IN FINFFERENT -COLORS.…………THEY ALSO REMIND ME OF RED TOO 

🍫: Do you like chocolate? If so, which chocolate do you prefer?

THAT’S LIKE ASKING IF A FLAPPY FEATHERED BEAST IF IT LIKES TO FLY. OF FU-CKING -COURSE I DO. I LIKE WHITE -CHO-COLATE, AND IN LIKE BIG BARS OF IT TOO. I’M LUCKY I HAVE A FAST ENOUGH BETTABOLISM, I DONT GAIN ANY WEIGHT, AND I DO ENOUGH EXER-CISE TO GET RID OF WHAT WEIGHT I MIGHT PUT ON. 

🎬: What’s your favorite romantic music?

FLUSHED: ANYFIN NI-CE AND SMOOTH, AND MAYBE A BIT SUGGESTIVE (;B

PALE: SMOOTH AND RELAXING, MAYBE AMBIENT MIXES OAR SOMEFIN.

PITCHED: SIMON -CURTIS. JUST. SIMON -CURTIS PLEASE. HE MAY NAUT HAVE EYEBROWS BOAT HONESTLY HIS SINGING MAKES UP FOAR IT.

ASHEN: I’M SO UNSHORE. I DONT KNOW WHAT SONGS OR TYPE COULD BE -CON-CHSIDERED ASHEN. MAYBE AMBIENT MIXES TOO?? I’M UNSHORE.

[lesbiannmermaidd]

Ah mannnnn

I'm still pretty unshore what my Aradia is, I mean i got a pendulum but it doesn't really feel right

The other swaps i know for shore are: Terezi Peixes, Vriska Ampora, Gamzee Maryam, Nepeta Megido, Dave Lalonde, Rose Strider, John Harley, and Jade Egbert so like? I guess just tell me if any of those sound familiar!

(This is imstucathome12's kin sideblog btw)

Oh I saw your ask thing on hskinstuff, aboat th4 indigo Feferi and rustle Nepeta, so I just wanted to ask, what’s your swap? (I’m an indigo Feferi so I’m just like 👀)

fksldf im a purple aradia/aradia makara 👀

[stogutrosenberry]

Morris’ “Death in the Trench” personalizes latest worker fatality data from BLS

The Bureau of Labor Statistics (BLS) released today its annual census of work-related fatal injuries. Before you scroll through the data do one thing first: Read the Center for Public Integrity’s “Death in the Trench.”

Reporter Jim Morris writes a soulful story of a plumber named Jim Spencer. The 61-year-old suffocated in an unshored trench in March 2016 at a construction project in Alliance, Nebraska.

“When a worker dies of traumatic injury gloom spreads like a webbed crack on an ice-covered pond, reaching far beyond the immediately family to touch former colleagues, lifelong friends—and in Jim’s case—waitresses, convenience store clerks and other strangers he routinely engaged in conversation in this western Nebraska railroad town of 9,000 people.”

Morris captures the heartbreak felt by Spencer’s wife Cheryl. He also shares her reaction to the meager monetary penalty that OSHA assessed to the two companies involved in the construction project. Cheryl Spencer’s reaction is one I’ve heard often from victims’ families:

Kill somebody at work and all they get is a slap on the wrist.

Jim Spencer was one of 37 workers in the U.S. were killed on the job in 2016 in collapsed ditches, trenches, and the like, according to data released today by BLS. In total, 5,190 workers died last year from fatal traumatic injuries. That figure is a 7% increase from the 4,836 fatal injuries identified by the agency for 2015. BLS’s news release notes:

“This is the third consecutive increase in annual workplace fatalities and the first time more than 5,000 fatalities have been recorded by the Census of Fatal Occupational Injuries (CFOI) since 2008. The fatal injury rate increased to 3.6 per 100,000 full-time equivalent (FTE) workers from 3.4 in 2015, the highest rate since 2010.”

Jim Morris’ story about Jim Spencer’s death would be diminished–perhaps not even written–if Spencer’s name didn’t appear. Using his name and seeing photos from his life can’t help but change the way I think about worker fatalities. It makes me think about the other 36 other workers who died last year in excavation collapses—and the thousands of others killed on-the-job in 2016. They aren’t just numbers. What were their names?

It’s regrettable that OSHA’s current leadership is censoring information about worker fatalities. OSHA no longer posts the names of recent workplace fatalities. OSHA’s leadership prefers to think about worker fatalities as statistics, not as individuals with names, faces, and loved ones left behind.

            Article source:Science Blogs

[oblitus-mortem-blog]

What is my content???

Home:

The home section I want clean cut, no crowded content not a lot of text or images. Perhaps a text box saying welcome to the website and one image or a slide show.

 Biography:

The biography I wish to a sort to the point about me Stating that I am a south wales mixed media artist, what my practice is, some of the subjects I work within and influenced by and about what courses I am undergoing.

A point I must point out once this is on my website I shall be stating that my location is Cardiff instead of the Valleys. The reason for this is when I list exhibitions I have attended you will notice a pattern that they are mostly around the valleys area and because I am putting my real name instead of cover name, brand name or business name. It would be very easy to for someone to track down my location. So, by me stating I am in Cardiff it is believable and accessible but no one knows me unlike where I live now so this will help prevent unwanted situations.

C.V:

I shall be using my current and up to date Artist C.V that states: Email Mobile (on request) Under hundred word-count, brief about my practice Education, dates, places, skills and results Volunteering, dates, places, skills and results Employment, dates, places, skills and results The option that on request two references can be given

Portfolio:

portfolio will be plank platform leading towards

 Installation:

Will have a list of installations that I have done over the course of my practice that with static image gallery, title, materials, date and brief explanation behind that installation.

 Ceramics:

Much like the installation section of the of the website it will show a static image gallery, title, materials, date and brief explanation behind the ceramics.

 Taxidermy:

The taxidermy section would be the same as the ones before but I am hesitant and cautious about having my taxidermy work on display once again on the internet. There has been some incidents before when I openly shared this section of my art work on social media and my previous website I had a lot of back lash from people who misunderstood and was closed minded about it. That led to me closing the accounts due to verbal slander, a physical altercation and my parents’ house being egged even though we are still unshore that the egging was related. This is one of the reason I been so reluctant to use social media and to have a website once again. I think once it comes to the end of the module and I become more comfortable about using these platforms once again I think the decision of me having this drop down menu will come to an answer.

 Exhibition:

The exhibition section of the website will have a list of newest to oldest posted with a slideshow of images of my work from that exhibit. With

Posted newest to oldest Slideshow of the images of my work from that exhibit Exhibits title Title of my own work Location Date Category that will say either previous exhibition, Ongoing or up and coming exhibition

I would also like to incorporate individual Google Maps sections that link to the exhibition location stating the name and location that when you click onto it will help the viewer find where to go and how to get there. I hope by doing this it will help more people come to the shows so that it would be easy for them to access the website on a device and use the google map to find it.

 Contact:

For the content page, I would like another slide show showcasing my work and then a contact form that links to my email address that if any viewer would wish to contact me with any further inquiries but did not wish to access their own email account threw for instance Hotmail or Gmail with the email address I have provided they may use this to contact me.