#why am I talking academic journals right now

[talesfrommedinastation]

Your favorite member of TBB is:

Tech!

Because:

He reminds me SO MUCH of my (neurotypical but very logical) husband! So much so that my youngest pointed him out on the screen when I first turned the TV on, screamed ‘DADDY!’ and that’s how I got sucked into this show. He is one of the few ‘nerd’ characters that is also caring, kind, and reflective–just a treat of a character. I refuse to let my daughters watch the finale, but the oldest one got told the ending by a friend (she had no idea what ‘sacrifice’ really meant, until that moment, I found out 😣)

You identify the most with:

Echo!

Because:

I’m not only a mom to an Omega and a teeny-tiny girl version of Wrecker (PLEASE HELP ME), but I’ve taught a couple of classes on ethics and robotics. Being able to keep your humanity while in incredibly hard, tough situations is no joke, and Echo does it beautifully. Also as a woman in academia, a program director and a writer, I’ve had to deal with my voice being ignored or belittled, and seeing Echo deal with it makes me love him so much. 

Your favorite minor character from the show:

Fennec Shand.

Because:

Loved her in the Mandalorian and Boba Fett, loved that I used a screenshot of her in TBB to convince my buddies that there was an animated version of The Expanse and she was Camina Drummer.

They were not thrilled, but I thought it was funny. 

A TBB-centric piece or post of yours that you are most proud of:

I feel weird putting my longfics aside, but writing up my redneck neighbor Doug and his hot takes on the Bad Batch, especially how he described the main cast.

Because:

Because Doug truly doesn’t care and makes fun of EVERYTHING. But most importantly, that it’s made so many people smile and laugh (and be inspired, see further below) when we’ve been unhappy a lot recently. 

Link so that we can appreciate it:

A TBB-centric piece of art that slaps so hard you enjoy (and why):

Of course it’s inspired by Doug! @amalthiaph did this 9 piece that is amazing. Hilarious but adorable!

https://64.media.tumblr.com/9e8de219217877e5b743dee5fa451fa0/debe30dcc808a98f-4c/s640x960/65328be1074050b6c3a3066488fc9a4f34423d9b.pnj

A TBB-centric fanfic that gives you life you enjoy (and why): 

A one shot by @skellymom based on Doug’s interpretations, of course. I actually woke the dog up, I was laughing so hard reading this (especially Crosshair being the Gross Brother). 

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/727626634459529216/redneck-dougs-bad-batch-oneshot-background-bad?source=share

A TBB headcanon or trope that is 100% canon to you:

Crosshair is in a very weird, but very committed, relationship with his rifle, which has a lady’s name like ‘Jessica’ or ‘Cassandra’ or ‘Christina’. It’s his weaponized waifu. 

Color(s) you think would suit if Crosshair gets "Mercenary" armor:

Green, silver, and black. Partially for camo, mostly because Crosshair has raw Philadelphia Eagles fan energy. Win or lose, he’ll happily burn Broad Street to the ground. 

One thing you NEED to see happen in Season 3:

Echo going absolutely APESHIT. Everyone’s going on about Hunter’s Joel Miller era coming up, but after the intro scene of ‘Tipping Point’ and seeing how a turnt up, focused, angry Echo can obliterate a whole damn Imperial vessel in the time it takes me to reheat leftover Chinese in the microwave…well, I need more of that. 

Let's go @eyecandyeoz @commander-sunshine @moosethren @amalthiaph

Fellow Zealots of The Bad Batch, Unite!

Please share your answers to these questions and pass them on to some of your Bad Batch-loving buds!

Your favorite member of TBB is:

Because:

You identify the most with:

Because:

Your favorite minor character from the show:

Because:

A TBB-centric piece or post of yours that you are most proud of:

Because:

Link so that we can appreciate it:

A TBB-centric piece of art that slaps so hard you enjoy (and why):

Link:

A TBB-centric fanfic that gives you life you enjoy (and why):

Link:

A TBB headcanon or trope that is 100% canon to you:

Color(s) you think would suit if Crosshair gets "Mercenary" armor:

One thing you NEED to see happen in Season 3:

@wwheeljack @wrenkenstein @floundrickthewayfarer @raevulsix @enigmatist17 @slenderboo @echojedis @nika6q @zaana @wiseowl18 @toastyrobos @eclec-tech @jigget @destril @niobiumao3

[pookietv]

online embarrassment (part two!) | arthurtv

a dedication to @casualvanilla into bullying me to write a part two :3

being curious about arthur and his seemingly strange occupation choice, in your eyes at least, of commentating 90 day fiance, you decided that you may as well watch a little of the show, seeing if you could see what made it so interesting.

especially since you and him had been talking much more frequently, playing a couple of games of chess together most evenings, over discord calls and instagram messages

and your curiosity had definitely been quashed once you had watched as much as you could stomach of insanely dysfunctional relationships, exploitation and men going for women far too young for them.

so, with your newfound knowledge, you decided to text arthur again.

youruser: why is literally every couple on 90 day fiance either insanely malfunctioning or borderline exploitative

arthurtv: ah, i see you have exposed yourself to the world of discovery+

arthurtv: and in all honesty, that is kind of the grim premise of the show, a kind of strangely twisted curiosity makes us all watch them fall apart

youruser: grim is definitely the word for it

arthurtv: so are you doing anything tonight?

youruser: unfortunately, i have little plans that don't involve reading so many academic journals until my eyeballs fall out :(

arthurtv: i never even asked you what you study?

youruser: oh, i study politics with a focus on international law right now :)

arthurtv: no way! i studied law when i was at uni

youruser: when was that, fifteen years ago?

arthurtv: ha ha very funny i am twenty eight

arthurtv: ps, you're almost as dedicated to your uni work as you are to your outrageous bishop sacrifices

youruser: anyway, are you doing anything tonight?

arthurtv: going round to some of my friends house cause he's forcing us to rewatch the lord of the rings series

arthurtv: though that is fair enough because i have forced him to watch harry potter so many times

youruser: i've never even seen harry potter

arthurtv: WHAT

youruser: oopsie

youruser: just never got round to it

arthurtv: you need to watch it!!!!

youruser: it just doesn't seem like my kind of thing!

arthurtv: we can't be friends anymore smh

youruser: that sounds great! blocking you rn

arthurtv: shut up you

arthurtv: anyway, i had an idea, if you're down

youruser: and what would that idea be

arthurtv: i think we should meet up and play actual chess on an actual chessboard (and maybe drink a few bevs)

youruser: well, i mean, i don't even know if i should be meeting you, after all you are the Insane Chess Killer Man >:)

youruser: and if i didn't know any better, sounds like you're describing a date

arthurtv: hm that's a good point, i was looking for a new victim

youruser: are you referencing the insane chess killing or the date as the victim?

arthurtv: you can't see me but i am rolling my eyes so hard right now

youruser: okay, a truce on the serial killer jokes

arthurtv: thank god. what about tomorrow night?

youruser: drunk chess and a takeaway sounds good to me

youruser: the classiest first date

so that was that, he had texted you his address and to come round at seven so he could, in his words, destroy you in chess.

after a long day at uni and a slight worry, though you didn't know why, about meeting him, you started to get ready to go to his house.

since you were just going to his house, you settled on some flared leggings and a soft blue jumper, tying your hair into a somewhat tamed ponytail before looking in the mirror, making sure your light makeup hadn't smudged too much after a day of back to back lectures and discussion groups.

he didn't live too far from you, surprisingly, just a couple tube stops away, so you decided to walk, about twenty five minutes to his apartment, in a block of flats facing the river thames, and as you arrived at the building and pressed the button in the elevator for his floor, slightly picking at your nails with nerves.

what if it was insanely awkward in person? or what if he is a weird catfish looking for victims on chess websites? that seemed insane, right?

but your mind was working overtime as the buttons lit up and the elevator door opened, and you tried to unfurrow your eyebrows and look for his door number, finding it towards the end of the hall.

you waited a moment before knocking, bringing your hand up and timidly rapping it against the dark wood of the door.

when it swung open, and you saw that he was indeed who he said he was, or at least who he was on his instagram pictures, you smiled a little in relief.

"arthur! hi, it's nice to meet you, well, in person, you know..." you giggled a slight bit quietly as he gave you a friendly hug.

"you too! didn't know if i was just being catfished or something," he joked a little awkwardly back.

"me a catfish? i figured you would be a catfish, what would i even be catfishing you for?" you joked back, and he shrugged.

"i don't know, i don't get many pretty girls randomly texting me cause we played chess together so i wasn't sure," he said a little embarrassed, and your cheeks went slightly pink when he called you pretty.

"well, who knew that the insane chess killer had a hidden talent for flattery," i laughed slightly as he welcomed me in, shutting the door behind me.

he rolled his eyes jokingly, "hey, based on the way you insulted me with no remorse during chess games i was expecting you to be terrifying, so you can't blame me for being surprised at how easy you are on the eyes," he grinned a little, and it was your turn to roll your eyes in return.

"anyway, come in, honestly just make yourself at home... unless you're worried about losing to me on my own turf," he joked.

"i mean, i'm kind of impressed by your 'turf'," you giggled, "it's nice for a guy that exploits reality tv for views," you teased and he laughed a little as he led you to his living room, a chessboard set up on his coffee table, pillows on either side on the floor to sit on.

"hey, low blow," he mockingly warned, "i'd watch it otherwise i'll conveniently lose your queen piece," he said before quickly standing to go to his kitchen, "i have southern comfort and lemonade, if that's okay with you? it's kind of my weird speciality drink," he smiled.

"well, i suppose i'll have to try the arthurtv special then," i nodded in return, and after a few moments, he returned with two glasses, placing them at either side of the table as he sat himself down on the side of the board playing black pieces.

"so we're going straight for the intellectual torture of chess?" you grinned as you sat opposite him, "the girls must find it so charming when you sit straight at the chess board on a date, hm?" you teased in retaliation.

"oh shut up you, and prepare to lose, again," he smiled as you moved your first piece, "at least my view will be nice when i crush you,"

as the game progressed, there was joking smack-talk thrown between you and arthur, neither of you focusing too much on the game but more on the subtle flirting between each move.

"that rook sacrifice was not your best work," he laughed, but you raised your eyebrow at him as you moved another piece,

"or maybe i was setting a trap that you didn't see, hm, mr. television?"

as he captured one of your pieces in return, his fingers gently brushed against yours and you grinned, before swatting his hand jokingly, "hey, focus on the game!" you giggled out as he laughed in return and nodded.

about half way through the game, the focus had shifted slightly from both being heartset on winning to enjoying one another's company, nattering on about arthur's job and your degree.

at one particular point, you stopped, looking down at the board, tongue slightly poking out of your mouth in concentration as your brain worked as quickly as it could, trying to analyse the best move.

"what're you thinking?" he asked as he shuffled slightly closer, and you could smell his cologne, a kind of vanilla and cedarwood scent as you tried your best to ignore it.

"i'm trying to strategise, unlike some of us who rely on distracting the other to win," you teased slightly, and you could hear him chuckle a little.

"i'm plenty distracted myself, hard not to be when you look cute like that when you concentrate so hard."

you paused a little at the flirting, trying not to let your cheeks flush bright red, "stop trying to put me off my game, arthur," you playfully smiled.

once a couple more moves had been played, arthur missed what was seemingly an obvious capture he could have made, which would have put you at a disadvantage, and once you quickly realised and made sure your piece was defended, you tilted your head a little - arthur didn't often make mistakes like that.

"i completely missed that, fuck sake!" he mumbled to himself with a small smile on his face.

after a while longer of playing, and a few moves you didn't think arthur would normally make, you had him in checkmate, a grin on your face.

"looks like we're gonna have to have a rematch at some point," he looked at the board and shrugged his shoulders a little.

you narrowed your eyes at him a little with a small smile, "did you throw the game so we could have a rematch?"

"i think i may use the lawyer lingo here and announce that i refuse to answer on the basis that i may implicate myself," he laughed a little to himself.

[gremlinandacrow]

Mouthwashing Headcanons

I may be cringe...But I am free! This is my first time actively sharing my headcanons. Sorry if this sounds incoherent, these were partially done on impulse because I wanna share my love for this game!!!

(Note: There's no mentions of Post-crash here!) (Note #2: Yeah Anya has the most, she's a queen and deserves it!)

Anya 🌕

Early to mid-30s

Tall! I imagine she's at least 5'8 (and her sandals provide an extra inch of height as well)

Russian (credits to @lesbiananya for this hc actually! Her fics are awesome!)

She moved to America in her mid-20s

Lesbian

Growing up, her family placed many expectations on her. Academically, she went beyond most of her class, but as she got older, she struggled immensely with various insecurities over being "good enough".

It developed into her feeling very hyper-independent. She only considers it her final option.

It's...Partially the reason why she's so estranged from her family now.

Undiagnosed autistic (currently going through burnout)

Major reason why she kept failing medical school: She kept running out of money she earned from working hauls with Pony Express. Is in debt.

On the ship, she...Doesn't do much. With such a small crew, there's very little chance of anyone getting seriously hurt. And the food...Well, it's terrible, but not enough to make anyone sick.

She spends a lot of time (during the "workday") in her office. She likes playing the music while she studies in there. It's mostly ambient music.

Bands/Artists I'd think she'd like though: The Crane Wives, Mitski, boa (Maybe Big Thief as well?)

When the crew is playing a board game and it's getting intense, she'll go eerily quiet and have this intense glare!

Smokes often, usually when she's stressed. Unfortunately on this haul, she only packed one box, so she making them last as much as she can...

Also has a journal. She mainly uses it to vent her frustrations out. It's the only thing that will "listen" to her.

She's cold to the touch

After her first haul, she packed extra blankets. You can't tell me the Tulpar isn't cold 24/7!

Near-sighted! She wears contacts (I know this isn't the most original headcanon, but I wanted to mention this one!)

Curly 🚀

Mid-30s

6'1

Born in Australia, raised in America after his family moved when he was young

Bisexual, but he didn't know for a long time (At least until his late 20s)

Parents had him when they were older. Both passed by the time he was 30.

Has been Jimmy's friend since middle school.

Kept finding himself surrounded by bad influences. Sometimes he'd get out of those situations...And other times he'd stick by Jimmy.

Doesn't have that much of a social life outside of Pony Express. As a pilot, it's a super demanding job.

Daisuke 🌺

21

5'7 (Shortest of the Crew)

Japanese/Filipino (Born to immigrant parents)

Aroace, but hasn't realized yet (struggling with comphet)

Trans! At first, only Anya knew (due to medical reports). He's pretty open about it!

Loves art, but his parents didn't understand how it could've been a stable career/passion for him.

Not a morning person at all. For a while, the hardest part of being on the ship was waking up before noon.

Used to Naruto run (honestly he still does it sometimes for fun)

Not a fan of coffee unless if it's 90% creamer + sugar.

Also doesn't like alcohol (even the sweeter drinks such like Pina Coladas, Cosmopolitans, etc.), prefers soda!

Reminds Curly of when he himself was younger (right when he started working for Pony Express)

Swansea 🦢

Early 50s

5'10

American (Southeast)

Also has Welsh ancestry!

Married, has three daughters. He's estranged from his family due to work.

Doesn't wear his wedding ring while working. Safety hazard.

Like Curly, he goes by his last name rather than his first.

Sees Daisuke like the son he never had!

Didn't really understand what Daisuke was talking about when he came out to him. Mostly because the intern was talking really fast and used a lot of lingo Swansea couldn't begin to wrap his head around.

But he eventually got it. He's still a bit confused, but willing to learn. Just not while he's busy working.

Jimmy 🐴

(Content Warning: Implied childhood abuse and neglect.) (Additional Note: I did not make these headcanons to excuse, downplay his actions, or make him sympathetic.)

Mid-30s (A little bit older than Curly)

5'11

American (Midwest)

Rough childhood. Curly was the only one who knew the full extent of what his homelife was like. However, when Curly wanted to tell people, Jimmy pressured him not to.

He fully believed that his life would get worse if anyone got involved.

As an adult, he believes he'll never be like his father.

Barely graduated high school

HATES being called "James"

His feelings towards Curly are complicated, to say the least. They have a codependent relationship.

Listens to crunkcore and country exclusively.

[honey-floret]

(CW// talks about abuse, transphobia, hurt/comfort)

Log X11042555c Journal of Dr. Beatrice "Honey" Lewis

Honey glared into the mirror. But the image didn't change. The person looking back at her, was still a floret in all but collar. But it couldn't be her right? This woman looked content to be dressed in such cutesy, colourful clothes. This woman had a bit of that same blissed out look as all the other florets. She looked happy. But that couldn't be her right? It had to be some trick of the light or it wasn't a mirror and Alma was standing on the other side of a pane of glass, or... or...A vine pressed against her chin and she was forced to look up at the Affini behind her.

"No matter how hard you look Honey, you can't deny what you see in that mirror. The truth is right in front of you." Said Cybil

"But I can deny dammit! It can't possibly be me! I'm just... not that kind of person."

"Then what kind of person are you petal?"

"I'm serious.. I'm focused on my work. I....I... don't actually know okay? I don't actually know who I am! Is that what you want to hear?!" The human was practically on the verge of tears. Her hands squeezed the hem of her pyjama shirt tightly.

"Everything is okay Honey. Do you wish to talk about why you believe you're all serious, all work, all the time?"

"I guess..."

"Then why don't you and Alma climb up on my lap and you can talk about it?"

Cybil sat down cross legged on top of the bed and tapped on her legs. While Alma quickly jumped up, Honey took a second and slowly crawled over to Cybil and was lifted up and placed on affini's lap, vines wrapping around her body in a comforting way. Alma nuzzled in on Honey's side.

"Now then Honey, tell me why you said that you were just your work. There will be no judgement from either me or Alma. So please, speak your mind."

Honey sighed uncomfortably, "I feel like.. I'm just my work because that's all I've had to pull me through these.. well my whole life. I was always academically gifted, and my parents to put it lightly, 'encouraged' me to succeed. They didn't want me to stay in academia. They....," at this point little tears started streaking down Honey's face, "they told me that... they hated the fact I was trans and that they had to help pay for my transition, and that the least I could do was make something of myself. To pay them back for everything they had given me. That... that... everything I did wasn't good enough, and just even when I did succeed everything was taken away by others more ambitious, more cunning than I am. Every time I even thought about reaching out for help I was just beat down. I just couldn't trust anyone with anything I did. It had to be me. It was that old saying, a catch-22. There was nothing I could do to succeed, and just the absolute pressure from my family to succeed. So... I guess I compromised? I succeeded but not to the degrees requested of me. Because any time I made myself large there was always some larger scavenger ready to pounce and take it away..."

Alma squeezed the other human, "I'm so sorry Honey, I know you said something about this earlier..." the vines tightened slightly around Honey's chest. "The Accord really did just hurt us all."

"You are safe now petal, you don't need to continue hurting yourself because you're afraid of how other people will treat you. You don't need to continue being strong to just survive. Sometimes you need to be weak."

"Being weak scares me. I don't want to just get taken advantage of. Just in my experience nothing is free."

"And that's why you so cutely resisted against Ashli's help a year ago was it not? Why you still resist admitting to yourself that you need help? Because you don't believe that anyone would help you without a cost."

"I... fuck.." Honey felt Alma shiver at the word beside her, "I... umm... but.."

"But? It's so clear to everyone around you, that despite being slightly more functional, that you're not okay. That you need help. I know it's hard to feel weak, to feel out of control, but trust me when I say that I love you and if you surrender that control to me, you'll feel better. You already had a taste of what it's like to surrender your control and finally be free to be the happy little floret you were always meant to be. While maybe the thinking rational part of your brain hasn't been aware, there's a part of you that's just had the most wonderful time. My little Alma can attest to how much pure joy you experienced just letting go. Isn't that right my sweet little flower?"

A vine scritched under Alma's chin, and the floret made a small moan. "Yes Miss Cybil! Honey has just been having the best time with me! It was so much fun to be puppies with her!"

"Not half an hour ago Honey, you were so certain that all these things, all these parts of yourself you claim to take so much stock in, didn't belong to you. You didn't even recognize your previous self."

The Affini's words made a compelling argument, but why couldn't Honey just let go? What was the missing element... and then she thought of it, "I... you're right Cybil. You're right about all of it... it hurts me to just admit that. But, I think my aversion to becoming a floret is losing my mind, my ability to work on complex problems. My ability to just hyperfixate on my passions. I don't want to give up my position at the university. I don't to stop working with you. I..."

One of the vines holding Honey pressed against her lips in a hushing gesture. Honey fell silent.

"Why would I permanently take away what makes you happy petal? Why would I stop you from doing what you love?"

"Because you're an affini, and you want a controllable, docile pet.. my apologies Alma." Alma didn't say anything, instead she lightly bit Honey's arm.

"Whatever gave you that idea? You certainly weren't listening when I said that Affini want to make our florets the best version of themselves that they can be. The happiest version. So why would I take away something that makes you happy?"

"I... because the Accord would."

"You must know by now the Compact isn't the Accord."

"Yea," the human sighed deeply, "you're not. You defeated the Accord, brought it into your submission. But I just lived so long under that old system that I just couldn't see a way out. Even now, even when it's being offered to me."

Cybil picked up Honey off of her lap and placed the human in front of her. She held out one of her large hands.

"Well, my sweet, adorable, little researcher, I'm offering you right now a way out of all of your misery. All of your old bad thoughts, and behaviours. A chance to embrace your future; to be happy. I would love to be your Affini, and have you as my Floret."

Honey hesitated for a moment, what if this honestly was all just an elaborate trap? What if she was being manipulated? No, even if it was she couldn't just keep living the way she has for any longer. She couldn't just keep herself shut out from the rest of the world. She reached out her hand and placed it into the Affini's. "I... I... want that too."

Alma positively squeaked with joy.

-End Recording-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[cookinguptales]

God, so. This is a story I haven't told in a while, so it'll probably be new to a lot of my followers.

This morning I got my kudos email and saw one for a fic I didn't recognize. I puzzled over this for a few minutes, then clicked on it and immediately remembered everything I'm about to tell you.

"Oh right," I said. "This is what happened the last time I fell down a research rabbit hole while writing original fiction."

The long and short of it is this: I used to do a Halloween fic exchange every year, and one year someone requested "dinosaur ghost." I was immediately like "that sounds fun!" and then, approximately three seconds later, remembered an article I'd read recently.

(This is me, unfortunately.)

A long time ago, there was this kind of mad rush for dinosaur skeletons to put in museums. (The Bone Wars, if you're familiar.) The Carnegie Museum ended up finding an Apatosaurus skeleton, but at that time, no one knew what that skeleton was supposed to look like. The researchers argued quite a bit about it and, despite the fact that they'd actually found the correct skull during the dig, attached the cast of a skull of a Camarasaurus to it instead. This skeleton had the wrong skull for decades until the mistake was realized and eventually switched out for the right skull in the 1970s.

This left me with an appealing, sort of whimsically romantic idea: what would it be like, if dinosaur bones are haunted? And what would it be like if two ghosts were being forced to inhabit the same dinosaur skeleton?

So I decided that I wanted to write this story about this mismatched skeleton and the ghosts that haunted it, but in order to do that properly, I had to find out what happened to that Camarasaurus skull after the Apatosaurus was properly reassembled.

Friends, I fell down the fucking rabbit hole. I looked at the museum's website. I was looking in journals. I was on Google looking at families' vacation photos so I could get a better look at the exhibits in the museum.

I was down bad.

In the end, I gave in and emailed the museum. Like... this is a weird question, but is there anyone who could tell me what happened to the Camarasaurus skull that used to be on display with the Apatosaurus?

I wasn't expecting a reply, really. Maybe an intern would email me back with an apology. If I got really lucky, a docent might actually know what I was talking about.

Imagine my surprise when I get back an email from an actual fucking paleontologist. He is not just happy to tell me what happened -- he is thrilled. He was excited that someone was even asking these questions, and I didn't even almost have the heart to tell him why I'd asked.

Now... I'll take a moment here to say that I am actually interested in museum studies. I'm super interested in the way we teach science, the way we teach science history, and the history of how we've taught that history. I took classes on it in college, in fact. I tried to take paleontology, too. I even took all the preqs and everything. I just couldn't get it into my schedule in the end.

So when a literal fucking paleontologist emails me to talk to me about these things, I sit up in my seat. I want to seem like I am On The Level. I reply to this man with my academic email address.

OH MY GOSH, he says. YOU WENT TO PENN? I WENT TO PENN!

Oh no. Oh no. I am in too deep. I am in way too deep. This kind, charmingly enthusiastic paleontologist cannot know that I am writing a quasi-homoerotic dinosaur ghost love story. He can't.

So I talk to him about my own field of study because I desperately want to sound like a real scholar and not like this is research for my AO3 account. (Even though it is.) We have a very nice conversation. He tells me everything I need to know and then some.

Apparently, I was right when I'd suspected that I'd seen a Camarasaurus skull in some of the photos of the exhibit. He was pleased I'd noticed. But it wasn't the same one that was on display with the Apatosaurus skeleton.

The real Apatosaurus skull was too fragile to be put on display, so they made a cast of it instead and mounted that on the skeleton in the exhibit. The real skull is being kept in the Big Bone Room, which is what they call their fossil storage. The cast of the Camarasaurus skull? Even though it was just a cast, it was still kept for posterity. It is also being stored in the BBR along with the skull of the Apatosaurus. And the real Camarasaurus skull that the cast was based on is now displayed near the Apatosaurus skeleton in the exhibit.

So both parts of the skeleton are now with a new version of their old friend, and they'll never be alone again. I don't think I could have designed a more romantic, bittersweet ending if I'd tried.

I write my fic. It's lovely, in my opinion, and exactly what I wanted it to be. It's about love and friendship and the sort of wistful affection you feel for friends who have gone and those you have just met.

I do not speak to the paleontologist again.

To this day, I am deeply relieved that he never found out what I was up to, but also sort of curious to know if he would've liked it if he'd read it. I took some extreme scientific liberties while writing my quasi-f/f dinosaur ghost fic (shocking, I know) so probably not. lmao

You never know, though! Some academics are into some super weird shit! Like me!

So I guess I always feel kind of wistful about the fic, too.

Anyway... Here's the Carnegie Museum's page about the Apatosaurus/Camarasaurus skeleton.

And here's the story I wrote about them:

Something Borrowed 💜🦕

[tettaki]

a peek into kisaki’s head.

tw: depression, thoughts of suicide, bullying, abuse.

Tetta’s brows furrowed as he picked up the find; a worn booklet thick with pages that had been scribbled on endlessly. He’s not sure why it’s in his office but looking at this book in his hands.. he’s 10 years old again in the closet of his room with a flashlight and a blanket over his head with the sounds of screaming, thumping, the sound of glass being thrown. But it was a distant sound— he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s gotten so good tuning the sounds out or if he’s teleported back and sounds don’t sound as scary as they did.

He had always been a smart child even outside of his academic achievements, he spent a lot of time by himself so he liked to journal because it had been his only outlet to express his feelings. No one had been open to him— no one had been kind enough to show him any kind of empathy or emotional support, so he had to become emotionally mature at a very young age.

Today is Tuesday.

Journal entry #276

I don’t like hurting others so I don’t understand why people like hurting me?

Is there something wrong with me? Or am I doing something wrong? There has to be. Mommy and daddy don’t like me very much.. they’re never home and fight so much that they forget about me. Yesterday was my birthday and I didn’t get a cake or birthday wish like the other kids at school.. It’s ungrateful and selfish to want those things but I can’t help it. Maybe that’s my problem.

There’s a something akin to sadness on Tetta’s face as he reads on— it’s bringing up memories and feelings that he’s buried deep in his heart, left for dead and never to be thought of again. Sad.. when was the last time he’s felt such a childish emotion?

Why does it feel.. good? Why does it feel warm like a comfort? Like he can feel his 29 year old self hug his 10 year old self? It feels phantom— like a spiritual phenomenon that he can’t explain.

Today is Thursday.

Journal entry #277

I don’t have friends.

I’ve tried many times to become close with the others in my class but they’re mean to me. They seem to only like me when I can help them on homework or on our tests.. but outside of that they call me names and make fun of me.. sometimes even hurt me after school. I overheard them talking about me during lunch but I can’t help things like how I look.. I need glasses to see! And I know I’m not very strong right now.. but one day I will be and I’ll prove everyone wrong.

I’ve always wanted to dye my hair a cool color.. I think I like how blonde looks. I’ll try one day. :)

Tetta smiles to himself despite the hurt— he did end up bleaching his whole head at some point in his early teens. It was a terribly done job but that was to be expected from a boy who wanted nothing more than to look cool.

Today is Sunday.

Journal entry #278

I don’t like myself.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m better off being gone but I’m so scared of being gone and no one would care about it.. I think that’s worse than death itself. I think I would rather be a burden than.. being forgotten about. But I don’t want to feel anything anymore.. Maybe I should—

Tetta’s interrupted by a soft knock followed by a feminine voice. “Mr. Kisaki, your nine o’clock meeting is waiting for you down in the foyer.” One of his assistants pops her head into his office. Tetta looks around and he feels like he’s back in the present moment again. He pretends like he’s not shaken up even though he feels a bit disoriented— disturbed and distracted.

“Oh.” He clears his throat. “That’s fine. Show them the wine selection and offer them a nice snack. I’ll be down shortly.”

[ineffable-opinions]

BL Commercialization

I am not the biggest fan of commercialization of BL.

BL spread across the globe not through commercial channels but through labor of love. It grew on the backs of creators and audience who spend their efforts and affection for the genre, fought and accompanied each other. There is a sort of sisterhood, a sort of fraternity that can’t be assigned a monetary value. It was popularized by readers and audience who loved it and wanted to share that love. It was shared with a sense of competition, indoctrination and infighting. It grew out of love, desire, lust, rage, jealousy and appreciation.

BL mangas and novels from Japan reached across the globe through piracy and fan-translations.

Where BL reached, new BL formed.

Forum engagements. Check out the BL I wrote. Here’s a BL I liked. Look at this crap an author wrote. That b!tch plagiarized. She wrote it first. So many people wrote the same thing, it is a cliché now. You can’t write like that. Who are you to say that? That main character is so flat-chested. If you want to write female protagonist, go to straight romance section. Wife! Please complete this story, I’m dy!ng to read. Where are the H scenes?

It involved fans drawing fan art. Thriving under attention. Wilting under bullying.

It involved male BL lovers – queer or otherwise – voicing BL audio drama adaptations and fan-dubs for free. BL lovers asking them to moan sweetly, to pant harshly and to act cute.

It involved creators like Chai Jidan who produced a super low-budget adaptation of her novel Addicted and send the State scrambling when BL became the talk of the town.

Now companies can swoop in and reap the dividends of years of unpaid, hard, emotional work done by innumerable rotten people, acquire intellectual property born out of the universe of BL and pay no respect to what came before them.

Moreover, now international audience can fly down and rubbish BL traditions, deem them anti-queer and anti-feminist. And influence how BL is produced. Wipe out the spaces local BL fans created for themselves. Without ever wondering what purpose did the so called ‘anti-queer and anti-feminist’ tropes and themes serves. Why were they made? (Other than the premature assessment that Asian BL audience and creators are heterosexists and misogynists and need rescuing and education from international, mainly western audience.) How do they interact and intersect with local non-BL queer content? All the while enjoying the soft boy aesthetics and elaborate queer narratives their pro-feminist, pro-queer western nations are not making enough of. And production houses and creators have to bow down to their definition of right queer representation.

So, I am not the biggest fan of commercialization of BL where interactions are skewed neo-colonially.

[Update]

Ambivalent affective labor: The datafication of qing and danmei writers in the cultural industry

Liang Ge

[egg-emperor]

I'm planning on making a much more in depth post about Eggman and Gerald in the future because I have WAY more to say but I just wanna compile the instances of this certain funny fact about it that I absolutely love.

Even though Gerald was Eggman's idol and he was inspired by him and he had all these great things to say about him, he can't ever mention/praise him without praising himself/flexing that he's related to him in at least some way.

He calls Gerald the greatest scientific genius in the HISTORY of the world, and adds "that's my grandpa" like "not everyone gets to say that, how cool am I for that haha." Love how you can hear the pride in the tone of his voice too.

But he also calls himself the greatest scientific genius of the world as the opening for every journal entry and says he'll mark his own place in history as the ULTIMATE genius.

Because Gerald had his time with the title and status when he was alive but it's his time now.

He also literally says this word for word on the subject of Gerald again in Shadow 2005 btw, as a way to say he had his turn and now it's time for him to do whatever he wants with what he left behind as he pleases. Another selfish move.

Pointing at himself with the Egg Dealer's limb for emphasis lol

He also refers to Gerald as "one of the greatest scientific minds", the specification makes me think it's in a like “but don’t forget about meee, I am too~” kind of way lol

And with the proud "and my grandfather" again added on right after the fact, it's like he's like "AND he’s also the grandfather of the best person and greatest scientific genius in the fucking universe and that’s even cooler baby!!!" ahfjhkafhsfgh he’s so funny 🥰

And then in TailsTube, he couldn't mention Shadow being created by Gerald without bragging about being related to him again, as a way to praise himself for his genius by being related to him so it's like it runs in the family. Anything to give himself some of that praise.

(Also damn, the way he scoffs and says his grandfather's creation is the "SO CALLED ultimate life form" like that. 💀 Mans still thinks he can do better!)

It's literally just like Eggman with Sage. LITERALLY just like it. It's super funny how the way he talks about both further proves that he can't value/respect/praise anyone without making it about himself as the massive fucking egotist he is, it's 100% never genuine and selfless and I believe he's incapable of that.

That's why I headcanon that another part of why Eggman was inspired so much by Gerald is that being related to him also helped with his hope to accomplish his own dreams and always fed his ego to take pride in even back as a child. Because judging by the jealousy and selfish egotistical entitlement he says he's always had in the Egg Memos, nothing has changed.

Along with how it seems he only praises him from an academic perspective in genius and science instead, as his good deeds never factored in the reasons. I think a huge part of his admiration for Gerald was always about seeing himself in him for his genius and science and the pride he felt and it's why he felt so entitled to attention and power.

Eggman's narcissism, egotism, selfishness, and pride always factors into literally everything he does. He is the epitome of self-centered. I love how it shows in everything he does. Even with the closest he gets to admiring and valuing anyone like Sage or even Gerald in any way, it's for the pride he can have in being related to them in any way and the ways he can benefit.

This also goes back to how I said it's different when it comes to Maria because not only did he not create her like Sage, he also can't relate to her like he could with Gerald to any degree, so he couldn't take pride in her for the same way. And that's why he hates the attention she got- because he can't have a piece of that pie.

Also speaking of Eggman feeling entitled to attention, power, and anything else he wants, he uses his relation to Gerald to say that he's entitled to doing whatever he pleases with any of Gerald's creations as his grandson, including Shadow himself, which he uses as a way to demand him to obey him. This level of entitlement and selfishness isn't very respecting of his idol's memory, huh?

I bring this up in this post because along with the entitlement and selfishness, there's actually also some pride in there with the "it was MY grandfather who created you"

I'm gonna get into this part and more about how Eggman talks about Gerald much deeper in a bigger analysis post in the future though because I have WAY more to say.

But yeah god I just want you to know how much I love this asset of it for now, how he can't genuinely praise anyone selflessly and always has to use it to praise himself, even when it comes to Gerald and Sage.

But in Generations even when he has the power to travel through time and fuck with the past it's just like "fuck Gerald the only person as smart as me is myself" jhsdjkdjkghfdbskfj

Nobody will ever be as great as he is or matter as much to him as he does to himself! XD 💜💕

[sunkissedliterarylightofchrist]

how do you go about writing analysis posts? doesn’t it take a while?

Yeah it does! But I enjoy doing it greatly! So I don’t mind spending the time, even if it’s a Goliath of a post that might end up taking me weeks or months if I get distracted to chip away at bit by bit when I have time.

For making these posts, first I have to be familiar enough with the source to be able to analyze it. So if it’s a book or movie, I’ve seen/read it a few times, or if it’s a song I’ve listened to it a few dozen, so on. And the more I’ve consumed that material the more articulately I can state what is in it objectively, along with what I think of it personally. And the better I know it, the better I can talk about it! I do not feel comfortable giving anything beyond casual observations if I do not know the work inside and out, lest I be wrong and give people false ideas. I don’t want to speak on anything I am not well-educated about. In any setting, whether it’s a chill coffee chat or high academia with scholars who are experts in this topic.

So first I get familiar. Then I analyze it, which is like- and entire post in and of itself 😅 If you would like I could get deep into the nitty-gritty of what I do, how to look at media and all that jazz I can, and I think my good friend made a post about that as well once that is very excellent. But this is when I analyze the work more formally, beyond just the immediate thoughts that are in my head when I think of the thing.

The way I process things is by staring at a wall and making faces while I examine my thoughts, but the way I have to analyze something is to talk about it verbally. Which can either look like me writing it out in a journal or google doc or finding the nearest family member to chat their ear off. So a lot of the more formal analysis stuff I want to do because the material interests me but I can’t exactly make it as a topic for my academic studies I do for things like music are right here on Tumblr! It’s a good brain-dump space.

So like today, I wrote a post breaking down a song I greatly enjoy. And that was the first time I’ve analyzed that song in that much of a critical and intense light. I’ve done brief overviews of it before, and could say what I’ve loved a lot about it casually, but it was only in siting down with my laptop and looping the song for an hour or whatever it was that I actually analyzed every single part of it and was able to connect every single detail of why I liked this song and how it connected to other things that made it even better. For me when I analyze something that deeply, I really am explaining to myself why I like it to that level too. Up to that point I have overall vibes and scattered specifics, but only in going through every detail and writing it all out do I now have a crystal clear image of what makes everything about that song awesome, which then shows why I love it so much to its fullest extent.

So that’s how I go about analyzing things in general, but on here specifically. The meat of the analysis always happens when I’m writing it out and explaining it to myself. I’m figuring out the why and how for most of it as I type it all up. And then if I’m doing this for formal papers I just clean it up quite a bit with my second draft to make it more succinct, coherent, detailed, and everything else. And this just makes me appreciate analysis more, with the fact that the more I critically examine something the better it will become! unless the media stinks but I don’t care enough about bad media to analyze it in my free time anyway, all bad media analysis can be done for school so at least I earn a good grade from it lol

Like this very post of how I go about writing analysis posts I’ve known the general idea and process in my head for ages, but it’s only been in typing it out for you that I’ve really been like ‘Oh, so THIS is how it (I) work and why, huh!’ So thanks for giving me the chance to discover the method behind my madness anon!

[the-pen-is-mighty-and-so-are-you]

An opening message

Why am I doing this? That’s the question behind the eyes that stare at these arbitrary letters appearing onscreen. Why am I writing this blog? Why do I want to do this? What is the outcome I want? Who am I? Why am I?

And, as you’re reading this, you’re probably thinking, “Shit, not another existential crisis.”

(Same.)

But I’m asking this to myself, me, that person in the mirror (figuratively speaking, I’m looking at a laptop right now), because I have been meaning to get round to writing this blog for fucking ages, and has it happened? No. Why? Well, the issue in question seems to be the issue I have with everything I procrastinate – making too big a deal about it.

I’ve been having grand visions of this blog, you see. It may seem silly, on this free real estate site of chaos, but I have been reaching high up on the shelf of expectations when it comes to crafting my posts. My overall goal: Get out there as writer, demonstrate that I can write things.

To put it explicitly, I want to do a PhD, and it’s handy if you can show that you have the capability to take time and write something that could be published. I.e., you have a link you can send prospective supervisors and go, “Here it is! The proof that I can stick it out for multiple years on a project!” The problem with that seems to be I’m writing this going, “Oh no, how is this possibly going to live up to any kind of scrutiny.” Boom, added pressure, creates impossible task, leads to months of procrastination.

And here we are.

Once again, I’ve found the answer lies in saying, effectively, “Fuck it.” I say again because, asterisk moment, years ago I experienced crippling procrastination when it came to creative writing projects, and found the only way to overcome that was to channel my need for expression into what I named a ‘Fuck it Diary’. The rule with it is, there are no rules (I’m sure that’s a famous quote from somewhere); you just write whatever you want, however you want, in brightly coloured pen, drawing doodles, sticking in bits from your day, and brainstorming at random. What’s that, you say? That actually sounds like a mishmash between a junk journal and a bullet journal? We as humans can never possibly have an original thought?

Mayhaps, that could be the case, but sometimes it’s just a matter of reframing something so that it works for each of our quirky brains. For me, saying “Fuck it,” is about letting go of all the pressures I’ve put on something, it’s about moving on from a state of inertia to actually doing the thing, forgetting about the little perfectionist squawking from the dark corner of my own brain and reaching for just any standard, because any standard of a completed action is better than a lack of standard due to an incomplete action. Write that shitty first draft. Write shitty first blog posts. Because then at least, you’ve started the thing.

So, here’s my thing. I have a few aims with this, it’s really a way for me to keep in touch with my academic side and talk about things I find interesting. Oh, I’m an anthropologist, I forgot to mention! (shitty first draft, what can I say) Actually I’m not sure if I can call myself that as I currently work at Tesco, but I did spend five years studying the subject and have so far done two research projects. I’m hoping to talk about all that a whole lot more in upcoming posts, including explaining what social anthropology is, so I have a handy link I can send to questioning relatives.

My other thing is, I’m working on a novel, although I’m verrrrry early on in the writing-the-first-shitty-chapters, still-got-a-fuck-tonne-of-research-to-do, phase, so I might also talk about that.

Er, yeah, I think that’s everything. I was hoping for this blog to be a lot more formal, to be in more academic language, and maybe I’ll have a go at that further down the line, but for now, I’m enjoying this style of bishboshing out on the keyboard whatever I’d say to a close friend. Yeah, ‘bishbosh’. Did I mention I’m British?

Anyway, take care, reader. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day, and that this post possibly encouraged you to say “Fuck it” about something (If it did, pray tell). Until next time!

[amoremagnificentbastard]

Writer Interview Game

I think this one has been my favorite tag game yet. Thank you so much for the tag, @gilded-glitter!

When did you start writing?

I wrote the most cringeworthy American Revolution-era "romance" you've ever seen I think when I was about eight or nine? I don't remember exactly. Eventually I transitioned to writing fanfiction when I was thirteen, and I posted on FanFiction.net until life just got too hectic and my writing world narrowed to academic papers and poetry I scribbled down during writing club meetings in undergrad. I've been an avid fanfiction reader that whole time, though -- I may not have had the time, energy, or motivation to contribute, but there have been many fanworks I've enjoyed immensely and reread multiple times over the years. Especially once I found the good stuff on Ao3.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I really like fictional works written in the style of a diary. I find it highly unlikely I will successfully write such a work (besides my own journals, of course, although I've gotten out of my journaling habit. Sigh).

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I am going to be so real right now: it has been ages -- and I do mean actual years -- since I have read any books aside from academic works and fanfiction. It's sad, but it's true. If someone compared me to @aevallare, @shewhowas39, @kittenintheden, @bardic-inspo, @atsadi-shenanigans, or any other of my favorite fanfic authors, I'd take that as an extremely high compliment.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I don't have a desk, so most of the time I write on my laptop while sitting on my bed. When my parents aren't home I like to write at the kitchen table. (Obviously I can't write there when they're home because I'm not going to risk my parents walking by, looking over my shoulder, and finding, you know, smut.)

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Funnily enough, most of my recent ideas that I really like have come to me while I'm daydreaming in the shower. Another helpful thing I do is take a walk, talk to myself, and work out dialogue that way.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

It depends on which part of my life we're talking about. In my teenage years my fanfiction was very much centered on found family and the idea of sacrifice for a higher purpose. My poetry in college was centered on unrequited love. None of those threads surprise me in the slightest. I'm guessing that this time around the found family thread will likely appear again, but I'm not sure what other themes might appear alongside it. And that supposition might just be wrong anyway. I'm simply here for the ride -- I'm excited to see what emerges.

What is your reason for writing?

I write so I can live vicariously through the characters I write about.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

Any that quote a line or passage that stood out to and/or explain why the work was meaningful to the commenter. But any and all comments are extremely motivating.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I just hope my writing makes readers feel something. If I can get readers to care about the characters involved the same way I care about them, then I'll consider myself having done a good job.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I think I'm good at timing -- knowing when I can spend time on a specific moment and when I should keep things moving. (I would much rather a reader answer this question, though.)

How do you feel about your own writing?

There will always be someone better than me. But I don't think my writing sucks, so there's that at least.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

I write for me. Do I want readers to enjoy it? Absolutely. But at the end of the day, this isn't writing I'm going to submit to a publisher or put in a portfolio. So I write what I want to write, purely for my own enjoyment.

No-pressure tags for @shewhowas39, @bardic-inspo, @locallegume, and @nyx-knox!

[wildelydawn]

Weird questions for writers:

3

4

13

29

30

39

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

This is definitely TMI but writing and masturbating usually happen within an hour of each other, even when I'm not writing anything sexual. On a more serious note, writing academically/professionally has trained me to spend 8PM-10PM, if not longer, writing/thinking about writing. It started off as "just spend an hour a day writing whatever you like." Having little writing habits such as 10 journal words a day, 500 non-academic words a day, etc also help. Having a desk helps too.

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

Hmm. I'm not sure. I like the term domesticated a lot. That's the only word that's coming to mind right now, I am sorry ><.

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?

It's hard for me to write about large gatherings. So weddings, religious rituals, hang outs, parties, concerts. I find it difficult for me to keep track about all of that. It's easy for me to write about moodier subjects, such as heartbreak or lonesomeness. Writing about grief, sadness, and war come pretty easily to me.

29. Where do you draw your inspiration? What do you do when the inspiration well runs dry?

Hmm, I answered this below, but I really do just batter my friends with ideas. Like right now, I just dumped 1K words of nonsense to Shou. As much as I don't talk, conversation does serve me well. And I mean it with the flirting/sexual banter. My conversations with The Woman have led me down some weird writing exercises/stories.

30. Talk to me about the role dreams play in your writing life. Have you ever used material from your dreams in your writing? Have you ever written in a dream? Did you remember it when you woke up?

I don't think I've ever used dreaming as a substantial part of a story because I only have nightmares or do not sleep deeply enough to dream. I am basically carrying a sleep debt that has aged me significantly, so dreaming doesn't happen unless I am severely emotionally distraught.

39. What keeps you writing when you feel like giving up?

Comments like this:

I am so serious when I say that every single one of these comments (and so many more) helped me pick the pen back up. Encourage your writer friends however you can and you and they will benefit so wonderfully from it.

thank u anon friend, u make me smile <3

Send me weird writer questions.

[badger-and-bee]

I’m tired of caring and tired of trying

If I didn’t crave academic validation I’d have no means of motivation

I burn myself out and set the bar high

But it’s still not enough

Cause at the end of the night

I still cry at the thought of losing what I worked for.

My new school is tough

Somehow harder than my last

And now I’m out of touch with my friends from the past.

I’m scared to make new ones

Because history has shown

No matter what I do or what I change

They’ll find someone better than me.

And I don’t understand.

I try to be the best friend I can be

I listen and i comfort and joke and change myself

So you’ll like me more,

Cause just me has never been enough before

I try so hard to learn and see

Why everyone is chosen over me

I don’t understand and I can’t say

Why they’re making me feel so much pain.

Cause if they fix it it won’t be true

But if they don’t I’m still stuck in my room.

I hear them making plans and I want to be invited

But how can I when I’m looking in from the outside?

I could open the door but what then?

It’s better to not attempt friendship than be rejected.

They talk about each other, their words harsh and unkind

How can I trust them with friendship when my heart is on the line?

So I eat in my car and keep my words to myself

Because it’s better to be alone than rejected.

I’m awkward and I don’t know what to say

How do you start a conversation after asking about their day?

They’re whispering and giggling

Is it about me?

Do I look fat in this shirt or is it something I said?

And my mom won’t let me stay home safe in my bed.

I like learning but I feel stupid in my classes

I could understand so easily before, but less and less as the time passes.

I refuse to cry where they can see me

But they’re everywhere

There is no privacy.

The only place to cry is in the bathroom stalls

But the entrance doesn’t even have a door on the wall.

I don’t want to dread school or be afraid to make a friend

It’s why I moved schools in the first place, isn’t it?

But still I’m here writing in a journal

Instead of talking to friends I don’t have.

And I don’t get invited out or thought of to begin with

But how can I be hurt when it’s my own doing?

My only friends are my parents and it makes me feel pathetic

I feel alone

I feel lonely

I feel tired of it all

But still the teachers continue to pile on

Onto the workload, onto the pressure

“You need to start thinking about your future.”

I’m barely surviving now

I don’t want to decide anything right now

How can I when I’m struggling to keep breathing

I want to be perfect

I want to make my parents proud

I want to be able to stop and look around

I want to have friends

To have someone choose me

For once in my life I want someone to choose me

But instead my life is school

Homework and assignments

I can’t even work to distract myself cause I can’t get hired

I’m tired and burnt out and I just want to sleep

But I can’t because I still have Bs

I have nothing else to judge myself by

I’m trying my hardest but the grades are never high enough.

If I can’t get an A, then who am I?

God, I know you’re there, but sometimes I can’t hear you over my exhaustion

Cause if I say I’m not fine I’ll have to open up.

I’ve never done that, not fully

No matter who I’m talking to, they only see a piece of me

Not even a counselor heard the darkest thoughts I think.

I don’t want to be dramatic

I don’t want to be a burden

But damn if only I could lose that weight.

Failure is heavy

Exhaustion is heavy

There’s too much weight everywhere- mentally and physically

If only I could get out of this abyss of misery

If only I could stop and breathe

If only I could sleep

If only I weren’t so tired of everything.

[thelostacademicblog]

Feeling Lost Again

The one where I live up to my name

I almost walked down the stairs and to my computer at 3 a.m. on Tuesday with the intent to drop all of my classes for the semester and find a job. Admittedly, I was having a panic attack and scrolling r/careeradvice and r/findapath a little too much. I know it was a bad panic attack and I shouldn’t take those thoughts seriously because I wasn’t thinking clearly, but they have to come from somewhere, right?

The job market is crumbling, I should drop out and find a trade instead. I chose biology for the animals, but are there even any jobs I’d be happy in? Maybe the misery of a job is okay as long as I’m paid well and can have time to myself. If I start submitting now, maybe I can become a writer with some big, magical break. Will it even matter in ten years when the world explodes from fracking? Will I even live to see myself graduate? What does time matter when I won’t have anyone to share it with.

The first time I started having bad panic attacks like this, I switched universities. I was experiencing lots of big, emotional changes. I was in my first, er… let’s call it a situationship, I was graduating from high school, and I was supposed to be moving six hours away from my family. It feels… justified looking back on it now. That was a lot to deal with at once. But now, at 19, I don’t understand why I’m still struggling. I’m on meds, I journal, I try to eat well, I exercise, but I’m still miserable.

They tell me to be grateful for what’s around me, so I look around. I look around and struggle to find happiness in what America has become. The idea of existing under Trump is… something I’m not ready to think about, even though I face it on Monday. I’ve been rejected from four easy jobs in the past month alone (prep cook, reception-x2, and waitstaff). People who have been with companies for years are being laid off or getting hours cut, another pandemic on the horizon, and a housing crisis. I feel like it’s all on my shoulders while I should just be figuring out who I am.

So here I sit, three days before I go back into my spring semester, wondering what I’m doing wrong. If you’re yelling anything at your screen right now, just know I’ve probably already thought of it. The current plan (if I don’t chicken out) is to settle into my schedule for a week or so, then go talk to the career and academic advisors. I was supposed to do this last fall, but I struggle to get behind the idea that someone who barely knows me can advise me on a life career? I know I won’t be stuck in it forever, and I’ll likely eventually change, but every experience I’ve had with someone giving me advice was horrible! Not only that, but I’m known to be a very stubborn person, so honestly, even if I think it’s good advice, I might not take it. 

Despite the years of bad experiences, I’m considering going back to therapy to sort through all of this. Maybe if I find someone I click with, I can have an outside opinion because self-therapy and yelling into the internet void is losing its charm. 

I’m 19, and although I try not to buy into everything I’ve been told my whole life, I do feel like I’m running out of time. I feel behind and alone, but I also feel paralyzed with fear. I’m not ready to be making such big decisions on my own yet. Hell, I didn’t even have a real high school experience! Everyone I know is raising their flags and begging for help, but nobody can see us under all the others. We’re left to hold onto each other and hope for the best as the world collapses around us, and we are told to think about the future we won’t have.

[nickgerlich]

Can You Spot Me A 20?

The last two months have witnessed one of biggest free publicity bonanzas I have seen in a long time. It caused intrigue, produced headlines the world over, even instilled fear, and all because of a new service that will revolutionize the world. It was free for the taking, a supposed answer to all of our linguistic needs, apprehensions, and inabilities.



Of course, I am talking about ChatGPT. Once more, I might add, because we already hashed this one out not long ago. It’s just that with what happened a few days ago, I am beginning to think the last two months were one of the most carefully orchestrated and staged acts of the digital era. Why, it’s almost like we have been played.

Because, as many already know, and I found out from several weeks of being locked out because of server overload—read: such extremely high demand—the company needed a way to resolve matters. Turns out the company has a solution: the freemium model, so typical of websites and apps for many years now. For just $20 a month, you too can have prioritized access to the writing tool of the century.

That’s another way of saying the last two months were the free introductory trial period, as any good marketer should do. And Open AI, the company behind ChatGPT, needs to have a revenue model. Everyone needs one. You don’t operate such a massive undertaking without some money coming in. I mean, unless your last name is Musk, Cuban, Gates, or Zuckerberg.

If anything, the fee will sift the casual freeloaders from the serious users. So I decided to let ChatGPT tell you about it all:



Query: Write a short essay about ChatGPT's new $20 subscription service.

ChatGPT: As a language model created by OpenAI, ChatGPT has been providing customers with valuable language-related services for years. Its latest innovation is a $20 subscription service that offers a more comprehensive and personalized experience for its users.

The new subscription service provides access to a more advanced version of the model, which enables users to generate more complex and context-rich responses. This means that users can expect higher-quality and more relevant answers to their questions. Furthermore, the subscription service provides users with the ability to interact with ChatGPT through a private chat interface, making it easier and more convenient to use.

Another benefit of the subscription service is that users will have the opportunity to provide feedback to the model, allowing it to improve and adapt to their specific needs over time. This feedback mechanism is critical to the model's ability to learn and evolve, leading to even better results in the future. In conclusion, the new $20 subscription service from ChatGPT represents a significant step forward in the development of language-related technologies.

The ability to interact with the model through a private chat interface, provide feedback, and access a more advanced version of the model make it an excellent value for anyone looking for a more comprehensive and personalized language-related experience.



So there you have it. A better, more personalized experience, all for $20 a month. Which then raises a question I am betting some of my students have already wondered: When will DrG use ChatGPT to write all of his blogs?



The answer, in a nutshell: Never. As tempting as that may be, you can easily see a shift in tone from me to ChatGPT. I intentionally write in a conversational, relatable style, while ChatGPT’s is decidedly more polished and clinical. It’s not that I cannot write that way, because I have about a hundred academic journal and conference proceedings to prove it. But I would much rather insert some of my personality in my blogs. ChatGPT has no personality, no soul. Heck, even Alexa has some wit and sass when you ask her the right way.

But for companies who need to create a lot of content, ChatGPT may be the new Excel spreadsheet. Heck, it will even write Excel formulas, but you get the point: It is a tool to be leveraged for frequent tasks that otherwise would take a lot of time, and do not need a personal element.



The evolution of all this is something that has sparked an invite to a colleague to be on a future podcast episode of BuffSpeak. We go into the studio on the 7th of March, with a drop date of 3rd April. She has dived into ChatGPT head first, and has some keen insights on how this tool can be leveraged and not feared. I’ll keep you posted.

Meanwhile, the bigger takeaway in a class like Digital Marketing is that the freemium model lives on. Every company has to have a revenue model, and while it is OK to give away some content, if you want the top-shelf stuff, you have to pay. It explains why we have free and subscription Spotify, two-tiered plans on Netflix, Peacock, Paramount+, and others, mobile games with and without ads, and so forth.

It’s just that few companies ever get the massive free PR ride that OpenAI got since late last fall. Spotify’s launch in the States was a big deal, and indeed revolutionized the way we listen to music, but it did not get this kind of attention. Streaming video services get big media play whenever they sneeze or make an important announcement, but nothing in comparison here. 



It just makes me wonder how much content we read in the future will have really come from a human or a machine. You can count on me writing my own material, but I bet a lot of social media posts, blogs, and web content we see in the years to come will be written by a machine.

All for $20 a month.

Dr “Don’t Take My Money Yet“ Gerlich

Audio Blog

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

Hey folk - I don't have a tip jar or anything for the blog, but I do support it and the general research work I do through Patreon! If you're appreciative of the content I produce here, even a $1 pledge would be a huge help.

This Patreon supports not just the blog, but the time I spend studying animal legislation, litigation, and regulation, the conferences I attend, and the formal research papers I publish. I don't get any external funding for my work, and it's all done in addition to my day job as a freelance fact-checker.

Right now, I'm working on three separate original research projects, all of which I plan to submit for publication in a peer-reviewed academic journal. Patreon funding is what pays for the time it takes to do this extensive, in-depth data collection and analysis, as well as write the paper and pay the (very high) fees to publish it open-access where anyone can read it for free.

The current papers in progress are:

An examination of all the different ways zoo businesses are defined in the United States, and why it matters (legally, practically, within the industry itself, etc).

An examination of the different definitions of an animal "sanctuary", and why it's so complicated and often confusing.

A cross-comparison of the standards and policies of all five major zoo and sanctuary accrediting groups in the United States, categorized by topic and publicly available as an interactive spreadsheet.

In the interest of total transparency, because it matters to me: I struggled to update the Patreon for a long time, and I want to recognize that- sometimes I feel like shouldn't promote it now, because of that past difficulty. When I was newer to the field and this work, I was really uncomfortable talking about work that wasn't finished, or that dealt with sensitive industry politics. I also over-committed on perks, especially with regards to trying to send out physical rewards (stickers). I put a lot of thought into what to offer on Patreon before advertising it again to address that. I've found my footing regarding comfort levels for what, when, and how much I share as well. I've committed to updating my patrons monthly - and hopefully more frequently! To those of you that supported me through that struggle-bus period: I cannot thank you enough. It got me where I am today, and I wanted to acknowledge that.