#ten primates

[swaggy-phrogge-boi]

Also dogs. One time my dog was on her period and we had to get her some diapers so she wouldn’t drop blood everywhere lol

Shout out to the ten primate species, four bat species, elephant shrews, and the Cairo spiny mouse. Nobody else gets it

[elfsyellowflowerzart]

ten

[taxi-davis]

[thagomizersshow]

Apes are a kind of monkey, and that's ok

This is a pet peeve of mine in sci comm ESPECIALLY because many well respected scientific institutions are insistent about apes and monkeys being separate things, despite how it's been established for nearly a century that apes are just a specific kind of monkey.

Nearly every zoo I've visited that houses apes has a sign somewhere like the one below that explains the supposed distinction between the two groups, focusing on anatomy instead of phylogeny.

(Every time I see a graphic like this I age ten years) Movies even do this, especially when they want to sound credible. Take this scene from Rise of the Planet of the Apes:

This guy Franklin is presented as the authority on apes in this scene, and he treats James Franco calling a chimpanzee a monkey like it's insulting.

But when you actually look at a primate family tree, you can see that apes are on the same branch as Old World monkeys, while New World monkeys branched off much earlier.

(I'm assuming bushbabies are included as "lorises" here?)

To put it simply, that means you and I are more closely related to a baboon than a baboon is to a capuchin.

Either the definition of monkey includes apes OR we can keep using an anatomical definition and Barbary macaques get to be an ape because they're tailless.

"I've got no tails on me!"

SO

Why did all this happen? Why did we start insisting apes are monkeys, especially considering the two words were pretty much interchangeable for centuries? Well I've got one word for ya...

This the attitude that puts humans on a pedestal over other life on Earth. That there are intrinsically important features of humanity, and other living things are simply stepping stones in that direction.

At the dawn of evolutionary study, anthropocentrism was enforced by using a model called evolutionary grades. And boy howdy do I hate evolutionary grades.

Basically, a grade is a way of defining a group of animals by using anatomical "complexity". It's the idea that evolution has milestones of importance that, once reached, makes an organism into a new kind of thing. You can almost think of it like evolutionary levels. An animal "levels up" once it gains a certain trait deemed "complex".

You can probably see the issue here; that complexity is an ephemeral idea defined through subjectivity, rather than based off anything truly observable. What makes walking on 2 legs more complex than walking on four? How are tails less complex than no tails? "Complexity" in this context is unmeasurable, therefore it is unscientific. That's why evolutionary grades suck and I never want to look at one.

For primates, this meant once some of them lost their tails, grew bigger brains, and started brachiating instead of leaping, they simply "leveled up" and became apes. Despite the early recognition that apes were simply a branch of the Old World monkey family tree (1785!), the idea of grades took precedent over the phylogenetic link.

In the early years of primatology, humans were even seen as a grade "above" apes, related but separated by our upright stance and supposed far greater intelligence (this was before other apes were recognized tool users).

It wasn't until the goddamn 1970s that it was recognized all great apes should be included in the clade Hominidae alongside humanity. This was a major shift in thinking, and required not just science, but the public, to recognize just how close we are to other living species. It seems like this change has, thankfully, happened and most institutions and science respecting folks have accepted this fact. Those who don't accept it tend to have a lot more issues with science than only accepting humans as apes.

And now, we come to the current problem. Why is there a persistent idea that monkeys and apes are separate?

I want to make it clear I don't believe there was a conscious movement at play here. I think there's a lot of things going on, but there isn't some anti-monkey lobby that is hiding the truth. I think the problem is more complicated and deals with how human brains and human culture often struggle to do too many changes at once.

Now, I haven't seen any studies on this topic, so everything I say going forward is based on my own experience of how people react to learning apes (and therefore, humans) are monkeys.

First off, there is a lot of mental rearranging you have to do to accept humans as monkeys. First you, gotta accept humans as apes, then you have to stop thinking in grades and look at the family tree. Then you have to accept that apes are on the Old World monkey branch, separate from the New World monkeys.

That's a lot of steps, and I've seen science-minded zoo educators struggle with that much mental rearranging. And even while they accept this to an extent, they often find it even harder to communicate these ideas to the public.

I think this is a big reason why zoos and museums often push this idea the hardest. Convincing the public humans are apes is already a challenge, teaching them that all apes are monkeys at the same time might seem impossible.

I believe the other big reason people cling to the "apes-aren't-monkeys" idea is that it still allows for that extra bit of comforting anthropocentrism. Think of it this way; anthropocentrism puts humans on a pedestal. When you learn that humans are apes, you can either remove the pedestal and place humans with other animals, OR, you can place the apes up on the pedestal with humanity. For those that have an anthropocentric worldview, it can actually be easier to "uplift" the apes than ditch the pedestal.

Too make things worse, monkeys are such a symbol of a "primitive" animal nature that many can't accept raising them to the "level" of humanity, but removing the pedestal altogether is equally painful. So they hold tight to an outdated idea despite all the evidence. This is why there's often offense taken when an ape is called a monkey. It's tantamount to someone calling you a monkey, and that's too much of a challenge to anthropocentrism.

Personally, I think recognizing myself as a monkey is wonderful. Non-ape monkeys are as "complex" as any ape. They make tools, they have dynamic social groups, they're adapted to a wide range of environments, AND they have the best hair of all primates.

I think we should be honored to be considered one of them.

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

OmfffffGGGG the fun I had writing this chapter GUYS—

I mean start to finish, I've been giggling like an idiot the entire mfing TIME

Well, alternating between giggling like an idiot and snickering deviously like a witch huddled over a cauldron but that's neither here nor there

Of course we have banter between Garp's dippy ass and Bogard's far more poised and reasonable demeanor, but also

BUT ALSO—

No

i cannot

I can't spoil it I cannot I will not I must not I shan't it would be positively rude in all honesty i will not—

Just———muffled screaming

Look I'm sorry in advance I had way too much fun with this

even mihawk is done with my shit at this point

Flight Risk

Young!Mihawk x Marine!AFAB!Reader

Ch. 4 of who even fcking knows at this point honestly, five? Six? Fifty? Whatever just let me vibe

Brief summary of The Story So Far: Your mission, as a Marine and Zoan type devil fruit user (gray parrot), is to gather intel on Dracule Mihawk, a pirate on the Grand Line who has become a thorn in the Marines' side over a relatively short period of time. Your first recon mission, while more or less a success, left you wounded and your commanding officers more divided than ever over the operation at hand. You have since arrived at Marineford to complete your training for the mission, and gods only know where things might go from here....

Previous chapter, First chapter, Next chapter

SFW for now, but not in later chapters

No Trigger Warnings in this chapter. Possible future Trigger Warnings for imprisonment, mild torture (definitely psychological, maybe physical)

Tags: Enemies to lovers, eventually NSFW, idk maybe more later Word Count: 4,832

Taglist: @i-am-vita thank you so much you have no idea how much this means to me

♫♬Halloween Blues - The Fratellis♬♫

Well, I'm gonna make ya love me, gonna make ya wish that you'd never been born

Now ya wish you'd never met me, I could be the joker that you couldn't shake off

It was agreed upon by all parties involved that not a word would be spoken of your ill-advised “test” at Kuraigana Island to anyone but Fleet Admiral Sengoku. The brunt of the chastisement fell upon Garp and Bogard, as the commanding officers overseeing the mission; and while you were scolded yourself for getting far closer than your orders had suggested you should, you were still commended for providing valuable new information.

The Marines were now aware that Kuraigana Island was home to a population of large primates, of undetermined size or intelligence but with enough intellect to use basic weaponry.

The Marines were also now aware that the presence of Dracule “Hawk-Eye” Mihawk on the otherwise abandoned island was confirmed, and that the volatile pirate had most likely set up at least a temporary base amid the desolate castle ruins.

You were permitted to keep in contact with your mother over the following months of your training as promised, with the stipulation that your letters would be screened to ensure you didn’t relay any confidential information to outside parties. As such, you wrote your final letter aboard a small unmarked vessel bound to pass by Kuraigana Island perhaps four months after the first, and had handed it over to Bogard to scan over.

Hi, Mom!

I’m still doing great, I promise. Training has been exhausting but I’ve learned a lot, and it’s been a breath of fresh air to be among people that actually seem to like me. My commanding officers are a little annoying, but I guess they’re okay. I trust them.

This will be the last letter for a while since I’m being deployed. You don’t have to worry, it’s nothing serious and I’ll be fine, I just won’t be somewhere that I can receive any mail. You can still write me though, and I’ll be able to reply the second I get back to my base. I don’t know exactly how long that will be, but the tentative estimate is two months. It could be sooner, but it could be a little longer.

Love you, and give my love to all our feathery friends.

“Ten minutes out,” said Garp, sitting against the railing with a doughnut hanging out of his mouth as he finished filling out the remainder of the paperwork he had put off until the very last minute.

“‘Commanding officers are a little annoying, but I guess they’re okay,’” Bogard read aloud, lowering your letter to glance down at you with a wry look.

“She’s not wrong, you’re pretty damned irritating,” said Garp. Bogard lowered his eyes to the vice admiral sitting on the deck of the ship, lifting an eyebrow.

Garp only raised his doughnut with a nod and took another bite before returning to his report. Bogard huffed out a sigh and folded the letter, turning his gaze to you as you paced back and forth across the small deck. The vessel was little more than a sloop, designed for no more than one or two people to sail on their own, sturdy enough to withstand the unpredictable weather patterns of the Grand Line but far less advanced than the standard Marine vessel. You barely noticed his gaze upon you, staring down at your feet as you paced, counting the nails in the deck boards in a futile attempt to keep your mind clear from the quickly approaching start of your mission.

You stopped in your tracks the moment Bogard cleared his throat to get your attention, lifting your head sharply and standing at attention.

“A…at ease,” he said slowly, watching you shuffle your feet and fold your hands behind your back. “Your letter will be sent once Garp and myself return to Marineford,” he assured you. “Once you have left this ship, your own contact with the Marines will cease for a period of no less than two months, unless you are forced to make emergency contact. Emergecy contact will only be employed—”

“Under the circumstance that my own life is in immediate and unquestionable danger,” you responded immediately, to which Bogard gave a curt nod.

“Correct,” he agreed. “There will be a covert Marine presence at every island neighboring Kuraigana. Should you require rescue, the closest vessel will be able to arrive within twenty-four hours.”

“She won’t need it,” Garp chimed in through the last bite of his doughnut, and in a rare break of his iron composure, Bogard reached into one of his overcoat pockets and threw a pen at him in response. You watched as Garp caught it and used the implement to sign his name at the bottom of his paperwork before flicking it across the deck of the ship. “Have a little faith, Bogard. We have at our disposal a trained weapon of subterfuge.”

Garp wrapped his hand around the railing behind him and pulled himself to his feet, strolling over to your side and clapping you on the shoulder.

“Trained under our own supervision,” he went on proudly, while Bogard closed his eyes and heaved a slow, impatient sigh, waiting for him to go on. “Who has already provided us with more up-to-date information on the target than anyone else in our ranks—”

“—I’m still not saying your impulsive little test was anything but idiotic—”

“—and humbly declined to take credit for any of it,” Garp went on , ignoring his partner. You jolted as he gave you a sharp pat on the back. “She’ll be just fine. Won’t ya, kid?”

“I’ll—perform my duties as expected of…” You trailed off into a sigh yourself when Garp rolled his eyes. “Yeah,” you said stiffly. “I’ll be fine.”

“See? She’ll be fine.”

Garp gave a firm nod, as if your word was more than enough to affirm your fate as solid fact.

And then his brow furrowed as he stared across the deck.

His eyes narrowed into a squint, and he turned his head the slightest bit, his hand lowering from your shoulder and back to his side,

“No���that’s not…”

By the time Bogard turned his head, Garp was already striding across the deck, extending a spyglass as he leaned over the railing and stared through the scope. He gave a growl of annoyance as he held the scope out behind him for Bogard to take. Your heart raced as you slowly crossed the deck to join them, your already thin resolve faltering when Bogard slowly lowered the scope to glance at Garp.

“This changes—”

“It changes nothing,” said Garp, jerking his head to look at Bogard.

You didn’t need the spyglass to see the foggy haze around Kuraigana Island past the railing, no more than you needed it to see the small ship docked near its southern banks. You couldn’t make out much about it, but you could see the one thing that mattered—it flew a black flag.

“Red-Hair,” said Garp. “I knew he’d be trouble. I told Sengoku, I told him—”

“Why the hell would he be here?” Bogard said slowly, looking back out toward the island. He glanced behind him, and held out the spyglass for you to take. You moved to the railing between them, holding it to one eye and shutting the other to look through it at the distant ship. “There’s no chance any information has—”

“No, there isn’t,” agreed Garp, as your vision adjusted against the magnification of the lenses. You scanned over the small ship, which appeared to be empty, before lifting your head to focus on its flag—a jolly roger, decorated with a pair of crossed cutlasses and a skull with three slashes across one eye.

“Red-Haired Shanks…?” you said slowly, lowering the scope, glancing between Garp and Bogard as they stared out at the ship. “Ah—three hundred million, two hundred sixty-two thousand berry bounty.”

“Sixty-three,” corrected Bogard absently, glancing at Garp. Garp remained focused, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the ship, his grip tight around the deck railing. “Vice-Admiral.” He glanced over sharply when Bogard spoke up. “This does change—”

“It changes nothing,” Garp growled firmly.

You didn’t particularly like the way Bogard leaned over the railing, holding his hat in place as he shook his head, staring at Garp with no small degree of trepidation. Your eyes shifted to Garp when he turned around to face you, frowning down at you thoughtfully,

“Or it could change things for the better,” he said slowly, letting out a small chuckle. “Well, lass. This is your call. Seems more than just Mihawk might be docked at the island ahead of us.” You nodded shortly to show you were following, waiting for him to continued. “Not much is known about Shanks as yet…to the masses.”

“Garp—”

Garp held up a hand when Bogard tossed a warning look at him.

“—but I have on good authority that he trained under Gold Roger himself.” Your eyes widened, flickering back toward the ship in question, as Bogard let out a growl of annoyance and stormed back toward the opposite side of the deck. “This is an unexpected turn.” Your gaze shot back toward Garp as he straightened out, folding his hands behind his back and staring down at you. “We can head back toward Marineford and go through all the meticulous to-do’s of officially changing our plans, spend a few more months buried in paperwork, or—”

“I’m going.” He raised his eyebrows, his lips already twitching toward a smile at the firmness of your words. “The Red-Hair pirates would be no more aware of who I am than Mihawk. There’s no point wasting any more time.”

“No, I guess there isn’t,” he agreed, grinning. He cleared his throat, cupping a hand around his mouth and making a show of calling across the small expanse of the deck to Bogard. “You might just be able to gather us a little more intel than we expeced. Hear that, Bogard? No need to delay!”

“No need to pull a muscle patting yourself on the back, either,” Bogard grumbled, just loud enough to ensure Garp heard him.

“Alright, kid,” said Garp, happily ignoring him as he leaned against the side of the railing. “We’ve got under ten minutes, so here’s the rundown.” He turned his head, looking out toward the ship moored just off the edge of the island. “Shanks, as I said. Captain, pupil of Gold Roger himself. Primary weapon is a sabre. Straw hat, bright red hair, difficult to miss. There’s Yasopp, the first man to join his crew, at the time he was regarded as the sharpest shooter in the East Blue. Dark skin, dreadlocks, carries a pair of flintlock pistols.”

“So...that’s his first mate?”

“No.” Your brow furrowed. “That would be Beckman. Dark hair, ponytail, built like a brick shithouse. Carries a flintlock rifle. He’s a damn good shot himself but he’ll use the thing as a club in close quarters. Lucky Roux, the cook, bastard’s probably as wide as he is tall…”

You listened closely to Garp’s continued colorful descriptions of the crew officers of the Red Hair Pirates—and the potential dangers they could pose to your health should anyone discover what you really were.

“Red Hair isn’t the brightest match in the box,” he went on, “but there’s a great deal of evidence that he closely rivals Dracule Mihawk in swordsmanship. Should the two end up fighting, you keep your distance. Otherwise, be exceedingly careful around Benn Beckman. He’s the idiot’s first mate for a reason and probably accounts for ninety percent of the collective brain cells of the entire crew. You’ll have to keep a close eye on him while you keep up your act. There’s no telling why they’re docked here, and it would be in your best interest to figure it out. If they’re going to be around for a while, keep your distance.”

“I...sort of doubt any of them are ornithology experts,” you said, frowning.

“As much as one might doubt that a species of unknown primates could learn to use relatively modern weaponry.” You turned your head sharply at the sound of Bogard’s voice close behind you—you hadn’t heard him cross the deck. Your frown deepened as he gave a pointed glance at the scar spanning nearly the entire length of your right upper arm. Garp, gestured to the other Marine pointedly at his statement, and you couldn’t deny that he had a point either. “You’ll keep your distance. Fooling one pirate alone is going to be a great deal easier and safer than attempting to fool an entire crew of them.” He turned his head to Garp. “This is still the most ridiculous mission I’ve ever had the displeasure of being involved in.”

“Ah, girl’s got her act down fine,” he said dismissively—and Garp wasn’t wrong about that. Your favorite part of your training by far had been simply flying around the massive base at Marineford, taking tally of how many of the staff and officers you could fool. The only individuals privy to the exact nature of your mission were Garp and Bogard, a small selection of admirals and vice admirals, and Fleet Admiral Sengoku himself. Your performance had been enough to levy a unanimous vote to go forth with the mission. “Your persona, cadet?”

“Gray parrot, previously the pet of a pirate crew that perished in battle, therefore comfortable around pirates in general,” you said. “Able to repeat a number of sounds and phrases that might be heard aboard a ship, capable of learning new phrases and words faster than most other similar species of bird. Particular disdain for Marines and may fly into a frenzy at the sight of their vessels.”

“See?” said Garp, clapping you on the back hard enough that you flinched. “I’d say we’ve got this in the bag.”

Bogard stared between the two of you for a moment, frowning, before shaking his head. “God help us all,” he muttered under his breath, lifting a hand to rub his eyes.

The final few minutes of the voyage were spent with Garp and Bogard grilling you about the small amount of information known by the Marines about Dracule Mihawk, about the quick briefing you had just received on the Red Hair pirates, about your memorization of the den den mushi numbers you were to contact in the event that your life was in immediate danger or that you found any information useful enough to wrap the operation up early. Garp gave a resolute nod as you neared your destination, around a mile and a half off the shore of Kuraigana Island, and Bogard gave a heavy sigh and a short nod in silent agreement—no matter how little he approved, you were as ready as you were going to be.

“Alright, then, cadet,” said Garp, his wide grin a direct contrast to his partner’s pessimism. “Bird mode, activate.”

“Must you call it that?” said Bogard, tossing a weary look at Garp as you gave a quick salute and immediately shrank down into your devil fruit form on the deck. You fluttered your wings enough to hop up onto the deck railing in front of them, and Bogard frowned down at you. “Best of luck,” he offered. “Should all go according to plan, we’ll see you again in no more than two months.”

He cringed the slightest bit when you raised your wing in another salute, squawking out over Garp��s snort of laughter, “Wind in your sails!”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Garp, waving you off. “Now shoo, bird. And no getting yourself killed.”

And once more, you found yourself flying out toward Kuraigana Island.

You made a high pass over the Red Hair’s ship, squinting down toward it as you soared overhead, and the cause of their mooring near the island became quickly clear—it appeared that there was work being performed on a few sizable cannonball holes on the port side of the vessel. You were surprised to see a handful of the crew on the beach near the edge of the forest, seeming to be laughing among themselves and having a grand time, the primates that had attacked you nowhere in sight. Lucky Roux was easy enough to pick out, exactly as Garp had described him—striped shirt and tinted goggles, easily as wide as he was tall, sitting against a tree and taking a bite out of what looked like an entire leg of lamb while another crewmate assisted in bandaging his arm.

Perhaps they had had a run-in with the local apes.

You took that as enough reason to remain vigilant as you flew high over the forest, scanning the treetops below for any signs of movement. It was a relief that there seemed to be none—if the Red Hair pirates had come in contact with the violent creatures, it seemed they had managed to beat them into submission. You considered how Garp had told you that no one had ever entered the island on foot and lived to tell the tale, and it sent a shiver over your spine to think that the crew might be that formidable.

The first signs of movement you witnessed came only once you neared the castle itself, and you nearly faltered in your flight.

Your target was directly below you.

Sitting on a broken piece of stone wall in the courtyard, clad in a white shirt with a ruffled collar and a pair of black pants, his hat sitting to the side next to him, his massive sword lying across his lap as he polished the handle. You slowly, cautiously circled lower, keeping a fair distance, your eyes remaining on the pirate. His mouth seemed to be fixed in a scowl, his posture tense.

You cautiously landed in one of the castle windows several feet away, side-stepping until you were perched in the very corner of the indentation, your gray plumage a perfect camouflage against the rugged stone, and the reason for Mihawk’s clear irritation became immediately evident as the sound of a nonchalant voice tore your gaze away from him.

“Nice place you’ve got here, Hawk-Eye.”

Shanks.

Garp’s description had once again been right on the money—his stringy scarlet hair was capped by a straw-hat, his hands tucked behind his neck as he paced across a pile of rubble that might have once been a wall, a long sabre tucked into his red cloth belt at his right hip. He hopped down to the ground as you watched, resting his elbow on the hilt of the sword as he stared up at the castle. “Be a shame if something happened to it.”

He reached over with his left hand, wrapping it around the handle of the sword, and you tensed immediately, prepared to take flight as he grinned and glanced over at Mihawk.

“Divi—”

Mihawk was on his feet in a flash, his sword extended out at arm’s length, the blade less than an inch away from Shanks’s neck, his sharp yellow eyes narrowing to threatening slits as Shanks lifted his hands up in mock-surrender, still grinning.

“Only kidding,” he said, taking a cautious step back from the edge of the black blade.

Mihawk eyed him with a venomous glare for a few seconds longer before pulling his blade back swiftly to his side and rolling his eyes, a growl of annoyance leaving him as he turned on his heel and stormed back over to the broken wall, sitting down once more. “Remind me of what the hell you’re doing here and precisely why you haven’t left yet?”

“Am I not allowed to visit my friends?” said Shanks, clutching at his chest dramatically in feigned offense. Mihawk ignored the redhead as he sat down heavily on the ground, grabbing a bottle of dark liquor propped up against the pile of rubble and working the cork loose. “Hey, it’s not my fault. This is where the Log pose pointed us. We needed to do a few repairs on the ship. Noticed your old rowboat moored nearby—”

“Rowboat,” Mihawk repeated under his breath, one of his eyes twitching the slightest bit.

“So what’s with the pissed off monkeys, anyway?” said Shanks, nodding toward the forest before taking a swig from the bottle and flicking the cork over his shoulder. “Few of them were damn near as good with a sword as you are.” Mihawk’s eyes shot toward him in a warning glare, and rolled away when Shanks gave a broad grin in response. “Train them yourself?”

“No,” he said shortly. “The humandrills were already quite capable with a variety of weapons when I arrived—”

“Aww, you named them?”

“I discovered the name among the historical documents in castle,” he said through his teeth. “It seems they learned to use weapons by watching their human neighbors before they managed to wipe themselves out. Perhaps,” he went on, before Shanks could speak up again, “your time would better be served overseeing the repairs on your ship so you can leave the moment they’re done.”

“Oh, the repairs are almost finished,” said Shanks, waving a dismissive hand. “Just waiting for the log pose to finish linking up.” He took a sip from his bottle, lifting his eyebrows. “Why? Aren’t you enjoying the company?”

“Oh, yes, immensely,” Mihawk responded dryly.

Your eyes darted between the pair of pirates amid their exchange, keeping yourself perfectly still in the stone windowsill. It was clear that Shanks, at least, was enjoying himself, and that they seemed to have some sort of history between them. It was equally clear that Mihawk would have very much preferred that his company take a long walk off the nearest short pier. He still kept his irritation in check, though whether it was out of any actual sense of camaraderie or he simply didn’t feel like wasting his energy fighting remained unclear.

Their exchange gave you an almost overwhelming sense of déjà vu, and you made a mental note to inform Garp and Bogard of it the next time you saw them.

“Oh, so grumpy,” Shanks commented, leaning back against the rubble behind him, stretching an arm out across one of his knees. “Why don’t you go take a nap, old man? I’m sure there are plenty of beds more than suited for someone of your positively regal manner.” Mihawk went on polishing the golden handle of his sword, not bothering to glance up. “Probably more than enough beds for any number of guests—”

“No,” said Mihawk coolly, still keeping his eyes turned down toward his sword.

“Oh, come on,” Shanks groaned in complaint, laying his head back. His mouth turned down into a despondent sort of pout, tilting his head to look over at the castle—and you tensed immediately, holding your breath, remaining still as a statue. “I’ve never even been in a castle before—”

“No,” Mihawk said again, louder this time, his yellow eyes fixing on Shanks with a firm gaze this time.

“You’re absolutely no fun at all,” Shanks huffed, lifting a small piece of stone from the ground and tossing it in his direction in a half-hearted manner. “You know, you’re going to die sad and alone one day in your desolate castle.”

“And what a peaceful end it will be,” said Mihawk disinterestedly, rolling his eyes back down to the sword across his lap as he buffed a rag across the gleaming blue gem at the end of the hilt.

“But not friendless,” Shanks added, completely ignoring him. He offered another broad grin. “I’ll always be your frien—”

“Would you just go away already?” Mihawksighed wearily, lifting his head and tossing the rag aside. “It’s abundantly clear what you’re attempting to do, and it isn’t going to work.”

“Oh, and just what am I trying to do?” said Shanks...and he seemed to bite his tongue for a moment, before adding in a cheeky tone, “...friend?”

“You’re fishing for a fight,” said Mihawk, gritting his teeth, briefly gripping the handle of his sword before releasing it from his grasp. “And I’m not in the mood.”

“Oh come. On,” Shanks groaned once more, leaning back heavily and pouting. “I’m bored. There’s literally nothing on this damned island except a pile of rocks and a bunch of trees and a particularly nice castle—”

“No.” Shanks gave a huff of irritation, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Mihawk. “Go off and play with the other monkeys if you’re so damned bored.”

“They’re already afraid of me,” he huffed, pouting like a child. He brushed a few unruly strands of hair away from his eyes, turning his gaze out toward the forest. “Stupid apes.” Mihawk only rolled his eyes, shook his head, and returned to the idle task of sword maintenance. “I’m frankly surprised you didn’t just slaughter all of them the moment you set foot here.”

“They make for a decent security system,” he said levelly.

“Or you’re secretly just a big softie—”

Shanks straightened out and gave another broad grin when Mihawk tossed a sharp glare at him...and then slumped back down in defeat when his supposed “friend” gave a heavy sigh and turned his attention back to his sword.

It went on this way for some time—Shanks continually poking and prodding, attempting to annoy Mihawk enough to coax him into a fight; and Mihawk persisting in the task of sword maintenance, running a whetstone across the already razor-sharp edge of the blade as he fought to keep his composure. The entire spectacle was rather like watching an excitable puppy yip at a surly cat.

You shifted your gaze to the edge of the nearby forest when Shanks looked over, the young captain waving once the rustling of the dense leaves gave way to a tall, broad-shouldered man in a black shirt, picking leaves out of his ponytail—no doubt Benn Beckman, from the description Garp had offered you. There was indeed a large rifle slung back across one of his shoulders, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. He glanced toward Mihawk, before stopping just short of his captain, looking down at him.

“Repairs are finished and the Log Pose’s set,” he said, his brow furrowing when Shanks frowned in clear disappointment. “We getting off of this rock or are you still antagonizing the current inhabitants?”

“I am visiting with a dear old friend,” said Shanks, giving an indignant huff and crossing his arms. He rolled his eyes back over to Mihawk. “Isn’t that right, Hawkie—?”

“Call me that again and you’ll be leaving this island wearing your entrails as necklace,” said Mihawk coolly.

“See?” said Shanks, gesturing toward Mihawk. “We’re just catching up on old times.”

Beckman stared down at his captain for a long moment, frowning, his cigarette smoldering at the corner of his mouth. He finally shook his head and stepped back a couple paces, leaning back against a pile of stones and crossing his arms. “Alright,” he said. “Have fun.”

“Oh, I am,” Shanks assured him with a positively gleeful grin. He rolled his shoulders and took a drink from the bottle of liquor clenched in his hand, his eyes drifting back over to Mihawk. “Well, it seems our all too pleasant reunion may be drawing to a close, Hawkie—”

Shanks’s grin only widened when Mihawk lifted his gaze to glare at him, his hand gripping tighter around the whetstone.

Shanks seemed to bite his tongue for a moment, pursing his lips to suppress his growing amusement at Mihawk’s growing annoyance, before his expression spread back into a grin as he lifted his eyebrows.

“How about a little kiss goodbye—y’know, between friends and all—”

“That’s it—”

Mihawk was on his feet in a flash, tossing the whetstone away.

Shanks was on his feet just as quickly, a look of absolute glee brightening his features as he drew his sabre.

Beckman took a few casual steps off to the side, pulling his cigarette down from his lips to flick the ashes away, shaking his head, his hand tightening around the butt of his rifle almost imperceptibly.

And you, in spite of yourself, let out a tiny squawk of alarm at the entire spectacle...and quickly realized your mistake.

While Mihawk surged forward with his blade drawn, while Beckman kept his sharp eyes flickering between him and his captain, Shanks’s gaze flickered over toward the sound you had just let out.

And his eyes widened the slightest bit as his eyes met yours.

And he lifted his sword to block what would have been a deadly blow from Mihawk as he continued staring at you as you froze in the windowsill, your feathers ruffling out the slightest bit in response to the terror dawning over you.

Beckman also followed his captain’s gaze, lifting an eyebrow as he noticed your presence.

Shanks drew in a sharp breath, his eyes growing even wider, wide as the eyes of a child with a bottomless wallet in a candy shop. One single, almost breathless word left his lips as they spread into a delighted smile:

“Parrot.”

Next chapter link again, for your convenience

First chapter link again, for your convenience

[quitealotofsodapop]

There will be a massive debate/argument between them all when they find out. Because the first reaction Li Jing will have upon putting two and two together that Wukong and his protegè is somehow related to the strange changes in fate they've found in the draft copies is to summon them once more to Heaven. Which, considering the last time he did that, does not go well and it takes a lot of fighting before Xiwangmu finally gets tired enough of the squabbling on her front yard to intervene and explain WHY Wukong and his friends were summoned to Heaven once more.

Xiwangmu: With the Ten Kings of Diyu gone, Heaven and the Underworld have been forced to use some... archaic means to keep the balance between life and death. The Scrolls of the Dead have a drafted copy so to speak, one that is constantly updated but holds none of the powers the original document held. Whilst going through it, we discovered something... rather disturbing."

Wukong: And that involves kidnapping me and my friends... how?? Also there was a SECOND COPY!?

Nezha: Don't worry, we verified that while your name remains in this copy, you still retain the stolen immortality wiping your name from the true copy did. Twas one of the first things we did considering the reason the... original was covered in graffiti.

Wukong: I'm not apologizing for that. Meant to die or not, mortally wounded or not, I was not dead when they dragged me down the first time.

MK: Wait, what was that about being meant to die? When was this??

Macaque: *sighing* MK. When he removed his name from the Book of the Dead. Didn't you say you'd read the book!?

MK: It's so long and has weird vocabulary that makes my head spin!

Li Jing, trying to steer the conversation back to the to the point: Sun Wukong. There's been a series of events where many a being, whether they be mortal, celestial, or demon, was meant to meet their end where said fate was averted. While it isn't unusual for such a thing, the amount of time and consistency is rather strange. And... all of those instances point to some sort of interference related to you.

Xiwangmu: We summoned you here in hopes of understanding how that might be. Particularly in regards to that considerable feats that my general and grandson witnessed you and your heir perform recently. One does not simply break a cycle of destruction and rebirth so easily."

Prev.

The monkeys all get summoned like "AH! Not again!"

And reoccurring gag of MK not reading the book cus it's so dense and flowery. I think in canon he mentions Wukong erasing his name from The Book of the Dead though.

The squad are on close monitoring and/or house arrest until Heaven can figure out what the heck Wukong and MK are exactly able to do.

Macaque's own hearing powers mentioned in Jttw could also be similar to Wukong's fate-changing ability.

A sensitive ear, Discernment of fundamental principles, Knowledge of past and future, And comprehension of all things.

Macaque is able to know, but Wukong is able to act. Macaque has knowledge of the past, present, and future through his ears, but can't do much to change it. Wukong meanwhile has broken down so many barriers and saved so many lives completely unknowing.

The celestial primates as a whole could be individuals with these specific "screw destiny!"-powers gifted/created by the Universe to defy expectations of the Gods.

I would also like to mention an idea we had in DMs about Nüwa and her mate Fuxi the ape-man - that MK (and possibly even Wukong) were created specifically so they could have the choice to save/restart the world when the apocalypse came to past.

Cus whats the most powerful thing in the universe besides the chaos entropy? The ability to choose your fate.

[c-casu]

In the last 20 million years Australia’s rainforests have changed considerably. Although still dominated by marsupials it is home to a large variety of placentals.

The largest and most noticeable across the forests are the donkeys, now diverse enough to be classified as a subfamily (Asininae), which have managed to colonise these environments on two different occasions:

The first ones were a lineage (tribe Macrocephalippini) that became incresingly more specialised in browsing the lower leaves of trees, growing to larger and larger sizes in order to digest more vegetation more efficiently. The group is not too diverse, with only a couple giants in a single genus (Macrocephalippus), while most of the taxa are pretty basal forest donkeys distributed among two other genera. The larger ones are quite similar behaviourally to Grévy’s zebras, with males establishing territories where females and their foals forage, although it’s not rare for foals of other stallions to disappear. The smaller species are generally solitary or form small herds with only a handful of members.

The second group were a lineage (tribe Tapironini) of grazers that developed shorter legs and a more flexible snouts (like pigs and tapirs) in order to better look through the leaf litter for good forage or to select the right plants in the rare and small grazing grounds in the forest. They are more diverse than the previous group, with almost ten species in it. They’re solitary and tend to avoid each other, as they’re quite nomadic too.

Another quite common group are a lineage of the old endemic rodents that developed an increasingly herbivorous diet, converging with voles and cavies in build and head musculature. They’re quite common on the forest ground, as much as bandicoots, with whom they avoid competition thanks to their more specialised diet. They’re quite skittish animals that forms small “herds” with only a handful of individuals, sometimes as small as two members. They breed year round and sows can give birth to up to six pups, although this many are rare as they’re much more K-selected than other rodents.

The latest arrival to the Australian continent are the two primate lineage that rafted there in the late Catiocene, as Australia gets closer and closer to Asia, impacting as it goes more and more Australasian islands. It is now closest to Wallacea where these two groups come from.

The earliest to arrive were tarsiers. Not too different from their Asian relatives they still hunt insects and other invertebrates in the canopy, with the only difference being a wider variety of colourations.

The latest were macaques, but even though they’ve reached the continent extremely recently they’ve managed to establish a foothold, with ape-like forms being visible all across the Northern Territory and Queensland’s canopies. They’re quite aggressive animals, employing a strategy similar to honey badgers by picking fights with animals clearly out of their weight category and not letting attackers escape unscathed, in order to discourage predation. They live in large mixed sex troops with clear and complex hierarchies, with makes and females in two different ones. Individuals higher on the social scale are the first to have access to resources and mates, and in order to stay at the top of the hierarchy they frequently bully less dominant individuals (tipically of the same gender). Infants inherit their mother’s social status but can climb the social ladder by challenging more dominant individuals, although males tend to do so more often as even the least dominant females still get “courted” when ovulating and and are able to forage thanks to their sisters’ help, something males don’t usually don’t rely on.

[silent-lily]

Oh buddy, there are even more funky monkeys out there. And it's kinda criminal that most other media when doing stuff based on JTTW forgets about them all aside from Monkey King and Six-Eared Macaque.

(even though they are hella cool and powerful and have the most prominent roles)

(and yes it's kinda hard to do things with characters that have little to nothing written about them but come on)

Snub Nosed Monkey Spirit King there is absolutely nothing about you known other than your name but I love you buddy... Wished we saw you existing

[inkyminx]

I couldn’t resist so have a character that appears in most adaptations of JTTW cause I like the concept and that it’d be fun instead of sticking a character to one series.

Experimental & whatnot. R.I.P spine and sleep schedule BUT HEY— IT FUN.

Have Some Trivia ~

The name’s Kaihua Haizi!  开花孩子

Kai Zi for short.

Panamanian White-Face Capuchin.

Gay, He / Him

Is a mystic, not born from stone.

Born on Flower Fruit Mountain.

Be loyal or kneecaps be backwards, sassy, strong-willed, brutally honest, curious & aggressive.

May have broken someone’s bone in an arm wrestle. Or two. Or ten—

A singer & performer: mostly ballet & acrobatics.

Has some kind of romance or camaraderie with Wukong (depending on the version) & often a mentor for successors and young.

This guy will make a sh!t ton of movie references (mostly Emperor’s New Groove) .

Kind of a busy-body.

Pretty much an older sibling type/guidance for the younger monkeys in FFM.

That or the guy that trains said youngins and newcomers, often times the kiddos being dragged back by him unconscious later.

Is a tad older than Macaque and Wukong. (Headcanon: Don’t know if it’s proven, but to me- Macaque is older than Sun Wukong) (more related to LMK) .

Gained Immortality through witchcraft and that one time Wukong stole the longevity peaches.

Possesses appearance manipulation, flora & black magic.

Uses hairpins, needles & a Guandao-like blade.

Was burned with an iron as punishment by the Heavens for being connected to Wukong and taking part in his war against them (hence the mark on his chest) .

Will Lion King his own kid (MK, Destined One, Fruity & Chenxiang watch out) .

And for the adaptations, continue under the cut!

Mei Hou Wang

Was raised alongside Liu’er by the former king after losing his parents as an infant (Headcanon, not sure if proven) .

Nicknamed “Hua Hua” by Shihou right after meeting him.

In a kind of love triangle with Liu’er & Shihou as they got older.

It’s unknown how their ending will go but it remains lighthearted and fun regardless (fvck off Nine Headed B!tch) .

Close friends and dance partners with Yutu.

Accompanied Liu’er during his training with the deer master (more so to keep an eye on him/babysitting) .

May have spied on Liu’er much after noticing something was up after his first encounter with the Nine Headed demon (can’t remember his name, sorry) .

Definitely hung Ginseng on a tree branch a few times as discipline.

Likes to tease Havoc and the monkey generals for days on end.

Nicknames Shihou “Shidi” for fun.

Started wearing his hair with a braid after Liu’er started it one day while enjoying the sunshine.

Played a LOT of pranks on the generals as a cub.

Was born with the mark on his chest as a symbol to his power in flora in this version.

Was taught singing and dancing to “ease his buffoonery” by the former king.

Kinda went the other way but still kinda worked?

Owns a flower-made promise ring Shihou made for him.

~

LMK

Calls Macaque “Shidi” to mess with him in this version.

In their youth, Kai & Sun Wukong were in a relationship for a couple of years (basically a friends-to-lovers situation) .

PET NAMES ARE A TRADITION.

Introduced the shy Macaque to Wukong.

BOI this version’s chaotic tendencies go through the Heavens compared to the others (minus one) .

Was friends with the Brotherhood and often hung around together, getting drunk most times (minus Peng) .

Sorry Macaque, gonna have to drag TWO drunk primates back up the mountain this time.

Pranked tf out of Peng and lesser demons in his youth.

Got into an argument with Wukong right before the Brotherhood’s attack on the Heavens, leaving some strings torn.

“I’m not gonna stand on that battlefield and watch you die!”

Stayed with Macaque on FFM until his fight with the King.

Left FFM after his friends’ battle.

Now lives in the mountains of The Red-Buttocked Horse Monkey (Headcanon as seen in Sheng’s story) .

Plays a similar role to Macaque with MK in S1 but doesn’t try to uppercut the kid.

In fact, this guy is a pretty frequent customer of Pigsy’s Noodles before this but hid his history during that time.

Kinda.

Tang: YOUR THE MONKEY KING’S LOVER! 🤩 Kai: Ah sh!t, here we go again.

Makes up with Wukong after season 3, seeing him interact with MK and Macaque, and his change.

While not back together completely, the two go DAYS being menaces & buddy-buddy once more.

MK: Your technically my fifth dad, right?  Kai.exe Stopped Working.

~

Reborn

Is Sun Wukong’s close friend & comrade instead of pursuing a full relationship.

Appeared briefly in the town during their search, covering most of their face to hide themself.

Was caught by Fruity at one point in the town but the monkey not carefully shoved the baby in the pile of a vegetable stall.

Was hinted by Wukong when Fruity asked if he had someone waiting for him back home.

This guy is a lot more…mysterious & dark vibes in appearance than the usual chirpy but still holds that prankster/fun vibe.

Aside from that, there’s not much about him in the movie since he only appears in the background and is only mentioned verbally once.

~

1996

TBA

Will be created once I finally find a decent translation without signing for a subscription and whatnot.

~

Black Myth

Like most, Kai and Wukong were close comrades and eventually started a somewhat more intimate relationship before the Journey.

MANY years later, Kai plays a supporting role and guide for the destined one (similar to Zhu Bajie) .

In this version, Kai does appear as an elder (though not as much as the old monkey in the beginning) but does revert back to his true age near the end.

Age Appearance Manipulation do be like that.

Lost his right arm & left eye a period after Sun Wukong’s death.

Kai, to The Destined One: “When I was your age—“  Zhu Bajie: *repeats in spongebob mocking*

Despite not actually being able to be so GOD does this guy have a great time being an old man/monkey.

To Destined One: “FVCK ‘EM UP, SONNY!”

~

Havoc In Heaven / Lotus Lantern

This version doesn’t really do much in the story of both aside from what’s already been said, including an intimate relationship w/ Wukong, mentoring and taking care off the young monkeys, etc.

Their romance is more subtle in this version.

His design is more of a mix of the opera & ballet, but simplified to match the style of the animation.

If you thought LMK PeachSong (yea) was a chaotic pair, BOY LET ME TELL YA—

In the latter, Kai is sometimes seen either behind the lotus Wukong sits on doing his own thing (mostly just listening & basically giving off the “old married couple vibe” or being a guardian type to Chenxiang as he trains.

Grandpapi & Grandpapa be here wrecking so much havoc (badum chsss) .

[bignosebaby]

You know her

This little ape is pretty iconic on tumblr, having a niche popularity as a meme from the "and me" post that is around ten years old! That's a long time for this mysterious (and cute) face to circulate.

I get a decent amount of people both in real life and online asking me about her, which makes sense because as a big advocate for primate welfare I can tell you the golden rule is primates are not pets and should not be kept in domestic human contexts. People attuned to the inherent cruelty of keeping primates as pets and raising apes like human children are wary of images like this, because that is exactly what it looks like.

Good news! This baby (as with all babies with Silver Tree Nursery watermarks) is completely fine. Because she's a doll.

Many people know about reborn dolls-- The hyper-realistic baby dolls that look and feel like the real thing-- but not everyone knows that there are also ape reborn dolls. Silver Tree Nursery is a (now defunct) Facebook page for an artist named Gemma who painted and customized reborn dolls and specialized in apes. The artist behind this doll has done several orangutans as well as some gorillas and chimps. While the iconic "and me" model above is a little too cutesy to be perfectly realistic, some of her work is so realistic that it would fool me (if not for the handy watermark). Here are some more shots of this doll:

And some of the other apes she has done:

I'm not the first person to post this-- while searching for more pictures I found this tumblr post which seems to have been the big reveal for most people that these are dolls. However, I thought I would tackle 2 follow up questions:

Are these dolls ethical?

Well, yeah. Some might ask if these dolls encourage the idea that this is an acceptable way to treat primates, but personally I think that the very small community of primate doll enthusiasts is a non-issue especially when you consider the impact of social media accounts that promote actual primates being kept as pets and treated like babies. Frankly if you want to snuggle a baby ape this would be the only way to do it (short of working as a surrogate caretaker for orphaned wildlife) without seriously contravening the endangered species act. Still, being vigilant against primate exploitation content is important, so:

How can you tell the difference between super realistic dolls and real primates?

In this case it was as easy as following the watermark. Googling Silver Tree Nursery brings up the Facebook page of the artist who makes the dolls. In general, sourcing is everything. If you know where an image comes from you can determine what the larger context is and whether what is happening is good. Here's an example:

Is this a reborn doll or a real baby? The framing makes it look very similar to the Silver Tree dolls with the stuffed animal and baby blanket, but if you were to reverse Google image search the picture you would find out that this is Yakini, a gorilla from the Werribee Zoo when he was a baby in 1999. Reverse searching is your friend, and it only takes a minute.

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #4 – War in Human Civilization by Azar Gat

This is my first big history book of the year, and one I’ve been rather looking forward to getting to for some time now. Its claimed subject matter – the whole scope of war and violent conflict across the history of humanity – is ambitious enough to be intriguing, and it was cited and recommended by Bret Devereaux, whose writing I’m generally a huge fan of. Of course, he recommended The Bright Ages too, and that was one of my worst reads of last year – apparently something I should have learned my lesson from. This is, bluntly, not a good book – the first half is bad but at least interesting, while the remainder is only really worth reading as a time capsule of early 2000s academic writing and hegemonic politics.

The book purports to be a survey of warfare from the evolution of homo sapiens sapiens through to the (then) present, drawing together studies from several different fields to draw new conclusions and a novel synthesis that none of the authors being drawn from had ever had the context to see – which in retrospect really should have been a big enough collection of dramatically waving red flags to make me put it down then and there. It starts with a lengthy consideration of conflict in humanity’s ‘evolutionary state of nature’ – the long myriads between the evolution of the modern species and the neolithic revolution – which he holds is the environment where the habits, drives and instincts of ‘human nature’ were set and have yet to significantly diverge from. He does this by comparing conflict in other social megafauna (mostly but not entirely primates), archaeology, and analogizing from the anthropological accounts we have of fairly isolated/’untainted’ hunter gatherers in the historical record.

From there, he goes on through the different stages of human development – he takes a bit of pain at one point to disavow believing in ‘stagism’ or modernization theory, but then he discusses things entirely in terms of ‘relative time’ and makes the idea that Haida in 17th century PNW North America are pretty much comparable to pre-agriculture inhabitants of Mesopotamia, so I’m not entirely sure what he’s actually trying to disavow – and how warfare evolved in each. His central thesis is that the fundamental causes of war are essentially the same as they were for hunter-gatherer bands on the savanna, only appearing to have changed because of how they have been warped and filtered by cultural and technological evolution. This is followed with a lengthy discussion of the 19th and 20th centuries that mostly boils down to trying to defend that contention and to argue that, contrary to what the world wars would have you believe, modernity is in fact significantly more peaceful than any epoch to precede it. The book then concludes with a discussion of terrorism and WMDs that mostly serves to remind you it was written right after 9/11.

So, lets start with the good. The book’s discussion of rates of violence in the random grab-bag of premodern societies used as case studies and the archaeological evidence gathered makes a very convincing case that murder and war are hardly specific ills of civilization, and that per capita feuds and raids in non-state societies were as- or more- deadly than interstate warfare averaged out over similar periods of time (though Gat gets clumsy and takes the point rather too far at times). The description of different systems of warfare that ten to reoccur across history in similar social and technological conditions is likewise very interesting and analytically useful, even if you’re skeptical of his causal explanations for why.

If you’re interested in academic inside baseball, a fairly large chunk of the book is also just shadowboxing against unnamed interlocutors and advancing bold positions like ‘engaging in warfare can absolutely be a rational choice that does you and yours significant good, for example Genghis Khan-’, an argument which there are apparently people on the other side of.

Of course all that value requires taking Gat at his word, which leads to the book’s largest and most overwhelming problem – he’s sloppy. Reading through the book, you notice all manner of little incidental facts he’s gotten wrong or oversimplified to the point where it’s basically the same thing – my favourites are listing early modern Poland as a coherent national state, and characterizing US interventions in early 20th century Central America as attempts to impose democracy. To a degree, this is probably inevitable in a book with such a massive subject matter, but the number I (a total amateur with an undergraduate education) noticed on a casual read - and more damningly the fact that every one of them made things easier or simpler for him to fit within his thesis - means that I really can’t be sure how much to trust anything he writes.

I mentioned above that I got this off a recommendation from Bret Devereaux’s blog. Specifically, I got it from his series on the ‘Fremen Mirage’ – his term for the enduring cultural trope about the military supremacy of hard, deprived and abusive societies. Which honestly makes it really funny that this entire book indulges in that very same trope continuously. There are whole chapters devoted to thesis that ‘primitive’ and ‘barbarian’ societies possess superior military ferocity and fighting spirit to more civilized and ‘domesticated’ ones, and how this is one of the great engines of history up to the turn of the modern age. It’s not even argued for, really, just taken as a given and then used to expand on his general theories.

Speaking of – it is absolutely core to the book’s thesis that war (and interpersonal violence generally) are driven by (fundamentally) either material or reproductive concerns. ‘Reproductive’ here meaning ‘allowing men to secure access to women’, with an accompanying chapter-length aside about how war is a (possibly the most) fundamentally male activity, and any female contributions to it across the span of history are so marginal as to not require explanation or analysis in his comprehensive survey. Women thus appear purely as objects – things to be fought over and fucked – with the closest to any individual or collective agency on their part shown is a consideration that maybe the sexual revolution made western society less violent because it gave young men a way to get laid besides marriage or rape.

Speaking of – as the book moves forward in time, it goes from being deeply flawed but interesting to just, total dreck (though this also might just me being a bit more familiar with what Gat’s talking about in these sections). Given the Orientalism that just about suffuses the book it’s not, exactly, surprising that Gat takes so much more care to characterize the Soviet Union as especially brutal and inhumane that he does Nazi Germany but it is, at least, interesting. And even the section of World War 2 is more worthwhile than the chapters on decolonization and democratic peace theory that follow it.

Fundamentally this is just a book better consumed secondhand, I think – there are some interesting points, but they do not come anywhere near justifying slogging through the whole thing.

[power-chords]

I interviewed more than 50 people in relationships with age gaps from ten to 40 years and heard many variations of the same theme: Their relationships were deeply satisfying, and they saw their age differences either as irrelevant or as beneficial. Justin Lehmiller, a social psychologist and researcher at the Kinsey Institute, began studying age-gap relationships of ten years or more in the aughts. As with gay and interracial couples, he found that people in these relationships suffered because they felt judged. Societal unease around age gaps coincided with the feminist movements of the 20th century, as women entered the workforce and marriage was increasingly idealized as a partnership of equals. “The push for equality in all ways has led us to this moment,” Lehmiller said. When people see an age gap, they tend to imagine there is something intrinsically unequal about it — that the older partner wants someone they can control and the younger partner has daddy issues or is just out for money. Our judgments can also reflect our personal histories. If you worry men won’t find you desirable as you age, seeing DiCaprio with his latest model girlfriend might feel like confirmation of that. Sometimes we instinctively dislike what other people do just because it’s different from what we have chosen for ourselves. “People look for simple pieces of information where they can make a judgment without considering all the nuances in that situation,” said Lehmiller. But exploitation can happen in any relationship, regardless of the partners’ ages: “Just because somebody might be older and might have more money does not mean that they’re the one calling all the shots.”

And even if the older partner is calling all the shots, or some of them, that isn’t necessarily abuse. While Me Too made us all too aware of the way power dynamics can be and have been exploited, it didn’t do away with the fact that desire for these dynamics continues to exist. (Daddy, for instance, was the most-searched term on the porn site xHamster among women in America in 2018.) Sex-advice columnist Dan Savage, who is seven years older than his husband and 22 years older than his boyfriend, has found much of the conversation about age gaps to be fundamentally unrealistic about what human relationships are. “We are status-obsessed, power-obsessed primates always jockeying for control — socially and also in our interpersonal relationships,” he said. “There’s no interpersonal relationship without power differentials, without advantages or disadvantages on both sides. And if you want to correct for that, or eliminate that, you have to eliminate human relationships.”

[tmkeesey]

The front cover for my upcoming comic book, Paleocene #4. Check out the campaign to get it printed!

Sixty-six million years ago, the world ended.

A meteorite over ten kilometers in diameter slammed into the Earth. The explosion released two million times as much energy as the largest nuclear bomb ever detonated. All life in the vicinity was instantly obliterated.

For the rest of the world, death was slower. A shroud of soot and dust engulfed the Earth. Without sunlight, plants withered and died, setting off a domino effect up the food chain, all the way to mighty predators like Tyrannosaurus rex. Three quarters of all life on Earth perished, starving in the darkness.

But we survived.

Not “we” as in humankind. This was much earlier. But our early primate ancestors—they persisted. With clutched hands and shining eyes, they witnessed the end of the world … and the early dawn of a new one.

What's in the new issue?

After witnessing a predatory bird devour their fellow troop member, Mamma and Brother continue their search for Sister … now in the freezing cold of winter.

Could the little child possibly have survived? What will happen to Auntie and the rest of the troop in their absence? And, as Brother grows up, will he stay with his Mamma?

If you've been following the story so far, you'll definitely want to read this one, because, I promise, you will finally discover Sister's fate!

[journeytothewestresearch]

I actually curious what kind of being Sun Wukong is. Is he kinda in similar category as Japanese Yokai. I know Japanese Yokai are different entirely but what do you think?

The novel is clear that he is a unique being, one who is “not classified in the ten categories of life, nor contained in the names between Heaven and Earth” (based on Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 3, p. 115). He is one of four spiritual primates and the lone member of his own magic species, the "Stone Monkey of Numinous Wisdom" (Lingming shihou, 靈明石猴) (based on Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 3, p. 115).

But heaven does consider him a form of monster during his rebellion. He is commonly referred to as a "demon monkey" (yaohou, 妖猴) (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 154, for example).

Religiously speaking, though, I have previously suggested that Sun Wukong is a "Wrathful Destroyer of Obstacles," a neologism for a powerful Buddhist guardian deity from Esoteric Buddhism.

Source:

Wu, C., & Yu, A. C. (2012). The Journey to the West (Vols. 1-4) (Rev. ed.). Chicago, Illinois: University of Chicago Press.

[forehead-alien]

In Lyon Sprague de Camp's short story Living Fossil primates redevelop society five to ten million years in the future, this time however they are New World monkeys instead of apes.

[cloud-somersault]

Happy Birthday, Cloud!

Asking a bit, as one of the things I have enjoyed the most out of your work has been your marvelous worldbuilding and how it interlocks with the characterization.

Is there still any big worldbuilding aspect you are still excited on sharing with us, as with the tidbits you worked over from season 5 around the celestial monkeys and the serpents, or the agenda of one of the Kings of Diyu and thus their more peculiar life-filled section of the underworld?

May you have a great day of celebration!

Thanks so much!! I have SO MANY WORLDBUILDING THINGS I WANT TO SHARE IT'S!!! CONCERNING HOW MANY, THERE'S SO MUCH TO TALK ABOUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The closest one we're approaching is the Ten Kings of Hell and how the whole underworld works. Each of the kings has a designated duty and distinct personalities. How they interact with each other and their banter is something I'm excited to write about and share, because it's that difference in their morals that causes some infighting and some misunderstandings.

All ten of them know the importance of reincarnation and how their work affects the realms. So, they do take their duties seriously, but in how things are run -- whether more efficiently or cut-throat -- that's where they differ. And, just like Macaque said, divine beings have all kinds of machinations going in the background. Soooo

There's also the new lore from S5 about the cycle and, of course, Xiangliu. And the whole celestial serpents/monkeys thing! The connections between the Underworld, the cycle, and the celestial animals is something I'm still playing around with. But the idea is that they all tie in together, and that things are revealed slowly over time, just like in Constellations and how things slowly came to light with each chapter.

The reason the celestial serpents/celestial primates are paired is because of the lunar calendar. There's times...when certain animals are paired together. The idea is, basically, every cycle, two celestial animals are paired together to help reset the cycle.

but yeah! there's plenty of things. More than the Underworld, there's the aspects of demon/human interaction and I want to show more of the demon world and how they operate! And also more of the places around the mortal realm that are still touched by magic, hidden away from mortal eyes by illusions.

There's plenty to look forward to! Thank you for asking about it. And thanks for the birthday wishes!!