Serving Demogorgon vibes for the start of spooky season 🎃
Atolla gigantea is the largest Atolla species that occurs off the West Coast. This species of deep-sea crown jelly can reach a diameter of up to 15 centimeters (six inches). It is also a hefty animal with a bulky body. MBARI has only encountered this species a dozen times. Atolla belongs to the order Coronatae. Jellies in this order have a distinctive furrowed bell. A deep groove runs around the bell, separating the domed, lens-like top from the thick margin. The edge of the bell has wide segments, known as pedalia, that contain finger-like lappets. The thick edge of the bell resembles a crown, earning this group of jellies its regal name.
The deep-sea crown jelly is one of the most widely distributed jellyfish. The genus occurs worldwide, from the Arctic to the Antarctic. Scientists currently recognize 10 species of Atolla, but they can be hard to distinguish, and undoubtedly, some are undescribed species.
Learn more about these regal residents on the deep in our Animals of the Deep gallery.
(And I’m sorry, but also dreadfully funny in that particular “I’m A Former Medical/Nursing Person And I’d Have Given Serious Money To Be There And See This Happening Live” sort of way.)
[Image IDs: A series of tweets from John Kennedy (@/ miceFearBoggis) on 4/8/2022 reading: When an article says “some scientists think” then remember this: I, a scientist, once thought I could fit a whole orange in my mouth. I could, it turns out, get it in there, but I hadn’t given sufficient thought to the reverse operation.
I should also, on reflection, have practiced in private. I had an audience, which grew as my initial satisfaction at an hypothesis well proven, slipped rapidly through stages of qualm, disquiet, then alarm (mild through severe) and ended in full blown panic.
When one panics, one’s muscles tense, which is of course, the opposite of what I needed here. I had been quite relaxed at the start, but now I couldn’t get a finger between the orange and the very taut edges of my mouth.
Above and below, the orange, which was now under some pressure, deformed to make a nearly perfect seal against my teeth. I hadn’t previously been aware of how much oxygen one needs to consume an orange, but I was made aware of it now by its sudden and ongoing lack.
I forgot for a moment that I had nostrils and tired to breathe in hard through my mouth. I have big lungs. When the doctor tested my lung capacity, I blew the end clean off the cardboard tube.
I’ve always been vaguely proud of that; mostly for want of more tangible achievements and because I am, when all is said and done, the kind of person otherwise predisposed to shove a whole orange in his mouth without cause.
Those enormous lungs - my pride and joy - expanding in this moment of crisis to their fullest extent, had created a hard vacuum behind the orange, which at that point imploded.
From now on, things which had been unfolding at an almost leisurely pace, started to happen rather fast. So, I will take this opportunity to say that no one had actually tried to help me up till now. This was not for lack of opportunity.
Later, someone mentioned the kind of details - veins like worms scribbling incomprehensible messages across my forehead, eyes popping out as if on stalks, laced with tiny red veins - which one can only truly apprehend at a distance that wouldn’t have made help impossible.
But back to the imploding orange. Although it didn’t diminish appreciably in volume upon implosion, the released juice vaporised, turning into a burning acidic cloud that instantly flooded my lungs.
My lungs very sensibly responded by collapsing rapidly aided by an involuntary and powerful spasm from my diaphragm.
The vapour and oily zest from the orange’s skin mixed with mucus scoured from my lungs (that spread flat, we must remember, would cover a tennis court) as well as the last of my residual oxygen, exited now through my rediscovered nostrils as a magnificently abundant yellow foam.
And, having a volume in excess of what could easily egress at speed via those narrow tubes, it also squirted out through nearby exits, including around my eyes.
Even that wasn’t enough and the build up of pressure finally proved too much for the orange, which left my mouth like grapeshot from a cannon, like the superluminal jets generated by matter falling towards a black hole at relativistic speed.
Temporarily blinded and gasping in my own private world of consequences, I was unaware of the cone of devastation that I had unleashed upon the unluckier segment of my audience, occupying roughly one steradian of solid angle to my front.
When I finally recovered my senses and they cycle of whooping inhalation and coughing fits had exhausted itself, I was greeted not by the concern that I felt such a brush with death merited, but with a disgust that later reflection suggests may not have been wholly unwarranted.
So, anyway, whenever you read “some scientists think”, think about me and recalibrate the lower end of your expectations accordingly. /End IDs]
Person A: You know… the thing Person B: The “thing”? Person A: Yeah, the thing with the little-! *mutters under their breath* Como es que se llama esa mierda… THE FISHING ROD
As someone with multiple bilingual friends where English is not the first language, may I present to you a list of actual incidents I have witnessed:
Forgot a word in Spanish, while speaking Spanish to me, but remembered it in English. Became weirdly quiet as they seemed to lose their entire sense of identity.
Used a literal translation of a Russian idiomatic expression while speaking English. He actually does this quite regularly, because he somehow genuinely forgets which idioms belong to which language. It usually takes a minute of everyone staring at him in confused silence before he says “….Ah….. that must be a Russian one then….”
Had to count backwards for something. Could not count backwards in English. Counted backwards in French under her breath until she got to the number she needed, and then translated it into English.
Meant to inform her (French) parents that bread in America is baked with a lot of preservatives. Her brain was still halfway in English Mode so she used the word “préservatifes.” Ended up shocking her parents with the knowledge that apparently, bread in America is full of condoms.
Defined a slang term for me……. with another slang term. In the same language. Which I do not speak.
Was talking to both me and his mother in English when his mother had to revert to Russian to ask him a question about a word. He said “I don’t know” and turned to me and asked “Is there an English equivalent for Нумизматический?” and it took him a solid minute to realize there was no way I would be able to answer that. Meanwhile his mom quietly chuckled behind his back.
Said an expression in English but with Spanish grammar, which turned “How stressful!” into “What stressing!”
Bilingual characters are great but if you’re going to use a linguistic blunder, you have to really understand what they actually blunder over. And it’s usually 10x funnier than “Ooops it’s hard to switch back.”
had a fascinating dream last night where there was a new, virally popular trading card game - it was called MOUNTAIN (stylised in all caps) and the whole gimmick was that you couldn’t buy boosters or anything - you had to find them?
nowhere sold MOUNTAIN - I mean, I expect players did, once cards were in their hands.
but acquiring cards meant noticing a box lying around, and just….nabbing it? they’d be in weird places - in a skip, wedged high up in a fence, nestled in the branches of a tree? nobody ever saw who left them there, and there was a lot of debate about how MOUNTAIN boxes were sometimes hard to acquire without risking one’s physical safety - but then, that was also bragging rights. especially as harder-to-reach boxes seemed to contain more elusive and sought after cards…
no, I don’t remember anything about the actual gameplay, we never played any MOUNTAIN. alas. I know there were “frame cards” that were literally transparent but for a fancy metallic or holographic border, which I guess upgraded the card they were applied to? frames were super rare, my coworker literally ran up to me in the pub purely to show off the frame he’d just found
dream brain gimme the deets on MOUNTAIN’s actual mechanics, I’m invested in this controversial unpurchasable scavenger hunt game
a lot of the people you guys are calling narcissists could easily be replaced with the word “asshole”
listen to me closely there is a man out there who wrote a book on what makes someone an asshole and. my god. the word asshole is RIGHT THERE and communicates almost exactly what you’re trying to communicate
the asshole:
1. allows himself to enjoy special advantages and does so systematically; 2. does this out of an entrenched sense of entitlement; 3. and is immunized by his sense of entitlement against the complaints of other people.
for the love of god, reblog the part that talks about what makes someone an asshole
So overwhelmed by what’s happening in western North Carolina right now and so many people are missing and everything is destroyed in asheville whole apartment buildings and sections of the city so many local music venues businesses places where I spent most of my 20’s the highway from here to there is completely closed I can’t stand social media because so many people are mia or have lost everything I’m grateful I wasn’t there but it also feels wrong somehow that I wasn’t it makes me feel entirely powerless because I can’t even be there in person to like help any kind of outreach efforts even though if I was still living there I might be homeless myself rn
Friendly reminder that if you are ever tempted to not wear your seatbelt because it is bothering you, there dozens of affordable seatbelt accessory’s that make them more comfortable and even correct the positioning to make them more effective.
This reminds me of the seatbelts are sexist discourse I saw going around a few years ago
…the what
Yeah the basic idea was that seatbelts are uncomfortable/don’t fit well on boobs and therefore are sexist and shouldn’t be worn.
It was absolutely stupid
Somebody even said seatbelts have caused injuries in crashes to include breast amputation; which is technically true but is also a classic example of survivorship bias.
This!!! We rolled once when I was a kid. Because it was a low speed roll, I was the only one injured and it was because of my seat belt. Bruises from hanging from the “ceiling” by the seat belt, and I banged up and cut my arm on the rear view mirror glass (it was so low energy roll the ONLY glass that broke was the mirror) from when I landed after unbuckling… and I will still wear my seat belt every single time I’m in a car.
Because if that had been a normal speed roll, not even higher speed, I’d have been the only SURVIVOUR. I’d probably have been fucked up by it being a lap belt, but I’d be alive.
WEAR YOUR FUCKING SEAT BELT!
(And also, when walking your dog on country roads at night, have lights and visibility vest for both you AND your fucking dog. My poor mom, with two kids in the car, swerved to miss the dog, saw the person, had to make the call on person, dog, or ditch, and instead of taking out the fucking MORON in the middle of the road, she slowed as much as she could in the time she had and took the ditch. To this day, I don’t know how she didn’t beat the man to death after… I’d have pounded him into the gravel if that had happened to me with The Kid in the car.)
I’ve been in a rollover where the car blew a tire going 90mph and rolled 6 TIMES.
The seatbelts, which both people were wearing, kept us inside the frame. The frame held.
With the seatbelt, all I got was bruises and scared. Without it, my skull would have been basically an egg in a blender.
I am Anas Basil, a recent high school graduate with dreams of pursuing a degree in e-business management and building a career. However, due to my family’s financial hardships, I enrolled at Khan Younis Training College (KYTC), affiliated with UNRWA. Sadly, the war has turned the college, once a beacon of hope and education, into a shelter for displaced families, stripping it of its educational purpose.
I completed high school with a 93% average, filled with excitement about continuing my education and securing a job to support my family. But like so many others, the war has shattered those dreams.
My Brother’s Dream: My younger brother, Ahmed, is 14 years old and in the third grade of preparatory school. We’ve always called him “Doctor of the Future” because of his intelligence and his natural talent in mathematics. Unfortunately, this is the second year he has been deprived of schooling due to the conflict.
Our Life in Displacement: The war forced our family to flee to Rafah, where we lived in a tent for several months. Each day, my brother and I would wake up to fetch water, gather wood, and light a fire to prepare food. Survival became our daily task, but we never gave up hope. The conflict affected us deeply, but it did not extinguish our dreams of education and a better future.
🚀 How Your Donation will Help us:
We are seeking €29,000to help Ahmed and me leave Gaza, continue our education in Egypt. More importantly, it will allow us to support our family, who have been deeply affected by the harsh conditions and skyrocketing costs of living due to the ongoing war in Gaza.
We’ve outlined how your donations will make this possible. You can find all the details in the campaign link below.
My name is Mohammed from Gaza,🍉 I am 34 years old, married to Walaa, 31 years old.. Father of four children.. Zeina 12 years old, Salma 11 years old, Omar 6 years old, Batoul 1 year old..😭😭
We are living very difficult days because of the ongoing conflict in the country.. We can barely manage our daily expenses because of the ongoing conflict in the country here..🙏
Zeina,Salma and Omar were deprived of their most basic rights, which is education, because of the destruction of all aspects of life, including schools, and they are now panting after water queues and food queues instead of their right to luxury as their most basic rights as children..💫❤️
As for Batoul, she was born in this war, so she saw or heard nothing but bombing and terror, and she was raised on malnutrition because food and baby milk were prevented from entering the northern Gaza Strip..💔🍉
All of this, while the four children suffer from serious skin diseases that have no treatment here.. Because most hospitals and clinics have stopped and treatment is not available for them..
Also, because of the war, our house was destroyed, even if partially, and is currently uninhabitable, and we cannot It was impossible to reach him because he is in a combat zone.
My private car was severely damaged due to the continuous and ongoing shelling. 🍉
My source of income was almost completely damaged, and I used to work in a grocery store. 🍉💔
We cannot even afford to travel outside the country because of the high price of travel, which costs an adult $5,000 and a minor $2,500. This is a huge amount that I cannot afford on my own. So I ask you to help me get out of this difficult ordeal and overcome this devastating war. 💔💔
normalize my 12th grade English teacher, who admitted that his favorite TV show was Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and when a male student suggested that it was because Buffy/Sarah Michelle Gellar was hot, wrinkled his face like he’d bitten into something rotten and dead, and said, “At my age (he was 53), there is nothing less sexy than a teenager. You’re all disgusting messes.”
It was 1999, I was 17, and I’d grown up in conservative Christian schools and churches. In my life I’d heard heard dozens of sermons from male preachers and teachers and even some older students, whining about how hard it was to be a dude and not commit the sin of thinking sexual thoughts, and how they needed women to wear long skirts and cover their bodies to not objectify them
and my bitter, misanthropic, atheist Brit Lit teacher, who hated my class because he was obsessed with teaching Tom Sawyer but got stuck with Shakespeare and Jane Austen, was the first, and this day the last man I have ever heard articulate a rebuttal from the depths of his soul to the idea that it was normal for teenage girls to be desirable to middle aged men
RIP Henry Dickerson, who passed away last night. I tried explaining to him once that he was a tumblr legend, but I’m not sure it took.
Everyone talks about the wonderbread guy but nobody talks about how the wonderbread isn’t necessarily the fetish object - it’s supposed to symbolize like overcommodification or something. Like wonderbread is such a synthetic suburban concoction it implies wherever it is, that area has become gentrified and mown over by capitalism and this like caricature of commodification. That’s why all the other pics the dude commissions are women (typically white and blonde) chopping down forests and stuff. The fetish isn’t the bread. The fetish is this extreme caricature of earth and culture being consumed by the unstoppable force of like. Sterile Kroger marketability and commerce. That’s why the women are always BUYING the bread and not like, fucking it. Its not about the loaves people. It’s about Karen Bad End TF.
Thank you for the additional information!! And also this is so much more succinct than my rant
Everyone talks about the wonderbread guy but nobody talks about how the wonderbread isn’t necessarily the fetish object - it’s supposed to symbolize like overcommodification or something. Like wonderbread is such a synthetic suburban concoction it implies wherever it is, that area has become gentrified and mown over by capitalism and this like caricature of commodification. That’s why all the other pics the dude commissions are women (typically white and blonde) chopping down forests and stuff. The fetish isn’t the bread. The fetish is this extreme caricature of earth and culture being consumed by the unstoppable force of like. Sterile Kroger marketability and commerce. That’s why the women are always BUYING the bread and not like, fucking it. Its not about the loaves people. It’s about Karen Bad End TF.
Thank you for the additional information!! And also this is so much more succinct than my rant
”pdf file” “unalived” “grape” “corn” what if i killed myself right here right now
imagine you read the local newspaper and in the section where they discuss a recent murder they describe it as “young adult unalived by serial game ender”. like you’re a toddler surrounded by adults who need to watch their language around you. you’re sanitizing and cutting down gruesome, horrific actions and situations into digestible baby words. i know this has been said before by other people but i’m so so sick of it dude, don’t speak advertiser language to me.
“pdf file” “unalived” “grape” “corn” what if I unalived myself right here right now
Imagine you read the local newspaper and in the section where they discuss a recent unaliveing they describe it as “young adult unalived by serial game ender” like you’re a toddler surrounded by adults who need to watch their language around you. You’re sanitizing and trimming down nastygross actions into digestible baby words. I know this has been said by other people before but I’m so unwell of it. Dude, please speak advertiser language to me
Your post contains six words that the tiktok algorithm may find unappealing!
Kills you with my mind
Unalives you with my mind
Uh-oh tumblr user bees-official, your post contains a word that the tiktok algorithm may find unappealing!
People really underestimate the power of just telling someone you like them. romantically obviously but hell even just platonically too. You can admit you enjoy peoples presence it doesn’t have to be mind games it’s okay to just be sincere and true with your thoughts and intentions btw
For even older recipes, check out Gode Cookery. They list medieval and Renaissance cooking instructions and translate the recipes for you into measurable amounts and all.
I have have have to mention Miss Leslie. I learned so much about cooking from that book, even if a lot of it is outdated.
Also, Forme of Cury is great fun, if you can muddle through the Middle English (Gode Cookery has translations and adaptions of some of the recipes from this).
bingewatching will never come close to bingereading. there is nothing like blocking out the entire Earth for ten hours to read a book in one sitting no food no water no shower no bra and emerging at the end with no idea what time it is or where you are, a dried-up prune that’s sensitive to light and loud noises because you’ve been in your room in the dark reading by the glow of a single LED. it’s like coming back after a three-month vacation in another dimension and now you have to go downstairs and make dinner. absolutely transcendental
ALT
