#oculata

[onenicebugperday]

Piglet bug, Bruchomorpha oculata, Caliscelidae

Found in the eastern United States

Photo 1 by tmurray74, 2 by robvanepps, 3 by tworm,

[setacin]

"Lover, please prepare for my absence" Absence by Rio Romeo

[cuties-in-codices]

"trust and distrust"

in a german ancestry book ('stammbuch des albrecht christoph gugel'), ca. 1686-1688

source: Nürnberg, GNM, Hs 84104 b, fol. 74v

the emblematic image serves as a reminder that a ruler shoudn't be too trustful. the hand stands for "fides" (trust), the eyes on the hand stand for cautiousness.

excerpt from a printed emblem book (ca. 1700) describing the same motif (sometimes referred to as manus oculata):

[lichenaday]

Pertusaria oculata

Eyed wart lichen

"The Moss Has Eyes 2: The Lichening." In theatres this December. No but seriously, these aren't eyes. Like you probably know that, but just to be sure, these are the lichen apothecia, aka fruiting bodies. They produce fungal spores that will hopefully grow into new little lichens some day. So definitely not eyes, in spite of what the name P. oculata might suggest. This crustose lichen has a thin, cracked, gray or white thallus that grows on the surface of moss, soil, and detritus. It produces lots of large, cylindrical isidia which often obscure most of the basal thallus. And it of course occasionally produces those distinctive, lecanorine apothecia with a brown to black disc, and smooth or isidiate thalline margin. P. oculata can be found in arctic-alpine regions of the northern hemisphere, typically in areas with silicious soil above the tree line.

images: source | source | source | source

[duardius]

gill hand shirt

eric gill’s device c.1906, Eye and Hand—the original was a wood engraving. gill’s take on ‹hamsa› or perhaps ‹oculata manus›. for more info vide ‹eric gill on typography›.

[calochortus]

Oberea oculata by kevin moore

[vintagewildlife]

Mysid (Mysis oculata) By: Jane Burton From: Éditions Rencontre Cards 1978

[dougdimmadodo]

January's Fossil of the Month - Conocoryphe (Conocoryphe spp.)

Family: Conocoryhphe Family (Conocoryphidae)

Time Period: 505 Million Years Ago (Mid Cambrian)

First appearing alongside most living animal phyla during the Cambrian Explosion roughly 538 million years ago and persisting until around 251 million years ago when they were driven to extinction in the most extreme extinction event in the earth's history, the Great Dying, the Trilobites were a large, diverse and extremely successful group of marine arthropods characterised by their thick exoskeletons which were divided into three major sections known as lobes (earning them their name, which translates roughly to "three lobes.") Throughout their over 270 million years on earth trilobites diversified massively as different species adapted to exploit different habitats and ecological niches; while many early trilobites were seafloor-dwelling detritivores, later species such as Hypodicranotus striatulus, show adaptations for swimming freely, while Cruziana (known only from its fossilized footprints) seemed to plough the sediment beneath it to filter out organic material, and members of the genus Olenoides exhibit head anatomy that suggests that they may have been active predators that fed on smaller invertebrates. Compared to later oddballs such as the stalk-eyed Asaphus kowalewskii or extremely spiny Dicranurus monstrous the members of the genus Conocoryphe, an early trilobite genus found commonly in Cambrian-aged rock deposits from North Amerca and western Europe, appear generic except for one unusual characteristic; most species in this genus lack the large compound eyes of most trilobites entirely, suggesting that as bottom-dwellers with limited access to sunlight they had no need for sight and relied on alternative senses to navigate and find food. As if the loss of eyesight in such early animals wasn't unusual enough, a single later Conocoryphe species, Conocoryphe oculata, possessed grooves on its head that suggests that members of this species regained the eyes their ancestors had lost (possibly indicating that they lived in shallower, better-lit waters than their relatives.)

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Image Source: Here

[clawmarks]

Oculata fides. Emblematic miniature from the album Gloria Crocodilus - Jacob Hoefnagel - 1634 - via The British Museum

[maracujatangerine]

The Gift Exchange

CW: institutionalised slavery, pet whump, dehumanisation

“Miss Lydia, Miss Lydia, what do you think about this?.”

Coriander jogged into the kitchen, brandishing a roll of wrapping paper patterned with abstract swirls in silver and dark green. The silver accents glittered in the pale winter morning sunlight falling in through the windows.

“It is really pretty!” Miss Lydia smiled, brown eyes warm. “Good choice, Cory!”

The blonde pet ducked his head, but smiled back from underneath his bangs. He wore a soft, green sweater with leather patches on the elbows that matched his chestnut trousers.

Lydia was dressed in a dark grey, knitted dress with red leggings. She leaned over the table to move the pot with the red and white amaryllis out of the way.

“Should we wrap everything into one present, or should we wrap each gift separately, do you think?”

“T-this pet thinks we should w-wrap one gift for Colton and one for Linden, b-but that all their gifts can be wrapped together.”

“That’s a good idea, let’s do that.”

Coriander spread out several seed packages on the table and studied them thoughtfully. Closest to Lydia was a packet with a picture of lush, green sugar snap peas labelled: ‘Mangetout, pea seeds 'Norli' ORGANIC’. Then, there were two packets both marked ‘Thunbergia alata, Black-eyed Susan’, the first one called ‘African Sunset’ in shades of red and apricot, the second one ‘Alba Oculata’ in brilliant white. The final was a handwritten envelope simply marked in Cory’s neat handwriting: ‘Chili, mix’.

“Are you happy with those seeds?”

“Y-yes, Miss Lydia. C-Colton will be able to grow them on the balcony, and i-it will be fun that we both can try to grow the same seeds. P-perhaps we can compare notes.”

Cory gathered the seed packets and tied them together with a neat red bow. Meanwhile, Lydia grabbed a hardback book. The blue dust jacket had brightly coloured leaves scattered all over the cover. The title stood out in bright white: When we were birds, by Ayanna Lloyd Banwo.

Opening the book, she wrote on the inside of the cover. ‘To Linden. Merry Christmas and best wishes for the new year.’ Signing it, she handed it over to Coriander to add his name too.

“‘It is a bit of a risky gift,” she admitted to Cory, “since I haven’t read the book yet, but it seems so good. I got a copy for myself too, and I hope I will get the chance to read it over the holidays.”

They added two bags of homemade butterscotch candy in green paper cups, and two reused milk cartoons filled with gingerbread cookies, the result of last night’s baking spree.

Lydia and Cory put their joint efforts into wrapping the gifts into two neat packages. The dark, red ribbon a nice contrast to the green and silver wrapping paper.

“Let’s go for a walk and send it off this afternoon.” Coriander nodded.

“Y-yes, Miss Lydia.”

*

Linden wiggled the pen between his thumb and index finger, deep in thought. Leaning back in his kitchen chair, he looked over at Colton, who was working diligently at the end of the table. With wholly unbroken concentration, he was pulling strips of sellotape from the dispenser and sticking them in a neat row along the table’s wooden edge. When Linden had done the altogether far more fiddly task of wrapping a gift up, Col could pluck a pre-cut piece of tape and stick it in place. It was, as Linden had said about fifty times, excellent teamwork.

“Hey, Col, have you ever seen this before?” Linden asked, lifting his hand for Col to see. With the pen held right in its middle, Linden wiggled it gently, until it looked as if the pen was bending at the edges.

Col’s eyebrows twitched, and for a beautiful second Linden thought he was going to burst out laughing. Instead, his mouth curved upwards into a tiny smile. “Yes, Sir. I have.”

“Ah, not too impressive then. Haha, no matter.”

“Do you need any tape for the envelope, Sir?” Col asked, eyeing the Christmas card laid out in front of Linden.

“In a second… I’m just trying to figure something out.”

“Ah, okay, Sir.”

Col took another breath, as if to speak, then stopped himself. Linden prided himself on reading Col well enough by now to know that it was because he wanted to ask a question. Probably what are you trying to figure out?

“I’ve written my part of Lydia and Cory’s card, but I’m not sure how to do yours. I’m not going to make you try and hold a pen. I was thinking - do you want to just dictate it? It doesn’t have to be much, just a little festive greeting sort of thing. I can be your text-to-speech robot.”

Linden was always cheery around Christmas time. Something about winter setting in, dark and long and rainy, and then being cut through by glittering lights, gifts and music. Today, he felt like he was on a veritable warpath to make Col smile.

“That sounds good, Sir… I can do that.”

“Great!” Linden said, overjoyed that Colton hadn’t taken issue with the idea of ‘dictating’ something to his owner, hadn’t overthought any possible rule-breaking that could come with speaking and forcing his Master to write it all down. “And instead of you signing the card the normal way, I thought you could do a fingerprint?”

“That’s a good idea, Sir, thank you for c-”

“Wait, no!” Linden said, making Col flinch. “Sorry, I’m sorry love. I just realised. We’ll both do our fingerprints. That’ll be nice. Then we’re the same.”

There it was again, the coveted half-smile. Col’s cheeks glowed. “Thank you, Sir, that’s really kind. I think- I, uh…”

“Go on,” Linden said warmly. “I want to hear what you think.”

“I think Lydia and Cory will like that, Sir.”

“I agree. Now, here’s what I’ve written.”

Linden pushed the card over. He’d written a short message making light of the strange way they first crossed paths, saying how glad he now was to know the both of them, wishing them a peaceful and happy holiday. He waited patiently as Colton gave his message some thought, then wrote it down exactly as dictated on the left hand side of the card.

Linden found some stamp ink in the back of a drawer, and the two of them rolled their index fingers in it until they could leave two bold prints, one below each message.

Once the card was sealed, it was time for the gifts. Lydia’s gift was a specially-made book embosser, which had EX LIBRIS - LYDIA WINTERTHORPE printed onto it. The embosser itself was a satisfying, weighty thing, and Linden hoped she’d get great pleasure out of stamping all of her most beloved books.

Cory’s gift was also a bespoke item: a brass door sign with his name, Coriander, printed on it. It had ornate rounded corners which gave the thing a rustic, rather stately look, and although Linden had never seen Lydia’s house he guessed it would fit right in. He had run the gift idea past Col first - would a pet such as Cory be okay with claiming the bedroom as his in this way? Col had given it a fair share of thought, ultimately telling Linden, in a way that sounded more like a sinful confession, that Cory would like it very much.

The two men performed their well-honed wrapping ritual, with Col sticking down the final piece of tape with a flourish.

*

This is a collaboration between @whumpzone and @maracujatangerine.

We would like to wish you all a Merry Christmas!

*

Tag List Part 1: @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-em @wh-wh-whu @neuro-whump @carnagecardinal @cowboy-anon @whump-me-all-night-long @redwingedwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @haro-whumps @eatyourdamnpears @bloodsweatandpotato @pinkraindropsfell @whumptywhumpdump @theydy-cringeworthy @whump-in-progress @whumpsy-daisy @nicolepascaline @whumpcreations @briars7 @shiningstarofwinter @whumppsychology @alex-ember @miss-kitty-whumptastic @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @youtube-fandoms-bands @goblinchildindabog @mazeish @distinctlywhumpthing @inpainandsuffering @canniboylism @icannotweave @incoherent-introspection @kim-poce @broken-typewriter @the-monarch-whumperfly @whumpers-inc @grizzlie70 @lil-whumper @writingbackwards-blog @sunflower1000 @wingedwhump @thecitythatdoesntsleep @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @onlybadendings @rabass @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning

[kon-igi]

SE TRENTA MI DÀ TANTO

Ieri sera in privato ho avuto un bel scambio di punti di vista con @nusta (che taggo non per questo ma perché geograficamente interessata dall'argomento di questo post... quando ci arrivo!) fondamentalmente vertenti sulla mia frase 'una ragazza che ha terminato la transizione FtM' (N.d.A - Female To Male, da femmina a maschio).

Giustamente, lei mi ha fatto notare (in modo non polemico ma riflessivo) che la mia frase - sintetica per necessità di 'colpo di scena' - era scorretta perché la persona 'era ragazza già prima a prescindere dalla transizione che ha solo "esplicitato" la sostanza' e che purtroppo in alcuni ambiti digitali non cis questo errore mi avrebbe potuto valere un'aspra reprimenda se non addirittura un attacco diretto.

Non conosco tutte le sfumature espressive del movimento trans e per le mie limitate esperienze devo dire che ho trovato persone molto accondiscendenti verso gli inevitabili errori da parte del sottoscritto ma non dubito che come in ogni ambito si sviluppi una frangia molto agguerrita che per inclinazione o principio si possa triggerare a prescindere (gradito spiegone dalle persone trans che mi leggono).

Il punto del post è che adesso tratterò in modo leggero e simpatico un argomento molto importante che per il suo impatto sulla vita di tutti noi credo sarà inevitabile scateni una polarizzazione tra i vari diversi attori della questione...

LE CAZZO DI ZONE URBANE CON IL LIMITE DEI 30 KM ALL'ORA PER I VEICOLI A MOTORE

Bologna li ha già resi operativi (da cui il tag per Nusta)

e qua comincia la polarizzazione con schieramento in trincea tra:

AUTOMOBILISTI

MOTICICLISTI

CICLISTI

PEDONI

Io per natura animale e istintiva appartengo al primo gruppo perché per il secondo conosco la traumatologia clinica ortopedica, per il terzo non ho sufficiente energia e per il quarto mi pesa il culo e/o odio aspettare i mezzi.

In un mondo ideale fatto di amore per il prossimo e di oculata scelta dei propri ritmi di vita, questo post non avrebbe ragione di esistere perché un ambiente urbano dove i mezzi non superano i 30 km/h è salutare per le ossa di chi non sta dentro la macchina e per la salvaguardia mentale e polmonare di tutti

MA

qualche mese fa sono andato alla discarica di paesello a portare alcune cose e mi sono accorto che la polizia municipale stava allestendo il telelaser sulla curva di una strada dove c'era il limite di 30 km/h... ovviamente sapevo che al ritorno li avrei trovati lì, tutti frementi e puntanti, quindi prima del cartello di divieto ho frenato e ho cominciato a tenere quella velocità.

Li vedevo piccoli laggiù in fondo al rettiline prima della curva...

Li vedevo piccoli...

Li vedevo piccoli e non si ingrandivano...

Piccoli ma mi puntavano addosso il cannone laser della Morte Nera...

Piccoli ma quasi vedevo i loro occhi cattivi e desiderosi che mi scappasse il piede sull'acceleratore... accelleratore che stavo premendo con la punta dell'alluce, delicato come se stessi disattivando 50 chili di plastico su un biplano senza carburante in picchiata dentro a un vulcano in eruzione.

A un certo punto ho pensato 'Vabbe'... adesso metto in folle, scendo e la spingo!'

Dopo un intervallo di tempo pari a quello di una vecchia che cerca gli spiccioli alla cassa del supermercato, finalmente li supero e penso 'Credo che oggi i conti del mio comune non solo andranno in pari ma si compreranno pure il Manchester City dagli arabi...' perché qua ve lo dico con il succitato amore di prima

A LIVELLO NEUROANATOMICO È FISICAMENTE IMPOSSIBILE RIUSCIRE A TENERE UNA VELOCITÀ SIMILE SENZA FARSI VENIRE UNA NECROSI AL TIBIALE ANTERIORE, SENZA STACCARE GLI OCCHI DAL TACHIMETRO O - E QUA PARLO PER ME - BESTEMMIARE TUTTO IL CALENDARIO FACENDO IL GIRO DELL'ANNO IN 10 SECONDI.

Ora lascio la parola a tutti i pedoni e i biruote, che amo in modo indistinto e che vorrei sempre protetti dalle paure delle ipocondrie, dai turbamenti che da oggi incontreranno per la loro via, dalle ingiustizie e dagli inganni del loro tempo e dai fallimenti che per loro natura normalmente attireranno...

Però nessuno mi toglierà l'impressione che i 30 km/h vengano usati per far abbassare la velocità media dai 90 perlomeno ai 50, visto che qua in Italia i numeri dentro ai cartelli tondi col bordo rosso sono solo un suggerimento. E sempre per gli altri.

P.S.

Prevengo chi mi dirà che nell'impatto a 30 km/h con un autoveicolo il pedone avrà il 90% di probabilità di non avere lesioni mortali, contro il 60% dei 50 km/h e il 20% dei 70 km/h. Lo so bene perché ne ho curati parecchi.

[herpsandbirds]

Red-eared Firetail (Stagonopleura oculata), family Estrildidae, SW Australia

photograph by Laurie Boyle

[autolesionistra]

Sicché niente, il piccolo ha imparato i suoi primi accordi di chitarra.

Non glieli ho insegnati io, ha chiesto lui di andare a lezione, sulla musica con loro ho spinto zero: se vogliono sono circondati di strumenti in casa e periodicamente subiscono ascolti opinabili, ma tanto già so come va a finire, arriva poi l'adolescenza e visto che il babbo schitarra considereranno suonare una cosa da sfigati e faranno qualcosa di diametralmente opposto alle attività genitoriali tipo il trekking, poi verso i trent'anni quando una sera saranno in casa loro da soli davanti ad un fernet avranno qualche pensiero mesto tipo "oh, avrei potuto sfruttare il babbo e imparare a suonare" ma a quel punto non avranno più tempo e io comunque avrò qualche forma di demenza che mi farà credere di essere Mazinga. Su queste cose ho già tutto un film in testa. Ma sto divagando.

Insomma, il piccolo ha imparato i suoi primi accordi di chitarra, Mi minore e Sol, in versione un poco semplificata. Dice: c'è una canzone che posso fare con questi due accordi? Certo, ce ne sono mille, e fra queste mille piglio senza pensarci troppo la prima che mi viene in mente, salvo poi realizzare che avrei potuto fare una scelta leggermente più oculata.

Così adesso lo sento mentre scardazza il suo chitarrino canticchiando con la sua vocetta da cinno "the roof, the roof, the roof is on fire" e aspetto con una certa apprensione il momento in cui oltre a quei due accordi lì gli insegneranno pure Do e Re e arriveremo al resto del ritornello.

[nigelpuppy]

september favorites

1. juvenile Phidippus audax, 3. courting pair of Araneus diadematus, 4. Eupeodes sp., 5. Sciurus carolinensis black morph, 6. male Polistes fuscatus, 7. Melanotus sp., 8. Chrysopa oculata

[callivich]

This is so amazingly hot and wonderfully written! Love the dynamic between them so much!!🔥💖

[chaoticworldbuilding]

A Viscaria oculata flower, for fun