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#this is just a scientific journal
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So, how rare ARE Ford's extra fingers, anyway?
I'm not gonna lie, at first I was skeptical of Ford's claims that the Weirdness Magnetism had an effect on him. Like, yeah, the whole having six fingers thing isn't exactly common, but it's a naturally-occurring event. Stan describes it as a birth defect, and there doesn't seem to be a noticeably great number of people with those in Gravity Falls. It wouldn't be all that farfetched for Ford to think he was just Built Different, for like, at least 7 reasons, but then you start actually thinking about it.
Polydactyly isn't exactly common. Approximately 1 in 1,000 babies are born with some form of polydactyly. While it's true that postaxial polydactyly (extra digit is past the pinkie) is the most common form, which is shown to be the kind Ford has in the x-ray at the beginning of AToTS, there are several other extreme circumstances.
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Extra digits in polydactyly aren't usually found on all limbs. It can occur on hands and feet (and Alex has confirmed that Ford does, indeed, have six toes on both feet) but rarely does it occur on both feet, or both hands, much less both hands and both feet. And even when it does occur more than once on one person, the extra digits aren't usually fully-formed. Oftentimes they don't even have bones. When they do have bones, they're usually much smaller, or barely opposable (if they have joints at all). When they're big enough to be maneuverable, they usually interfere with the structure of the hands/feet in negative ways. All this means that an extra finger or toe which doesn't direly require a surgery to remove the extra digit within the first year or two of life is incredibly uncommon.
And let's remember: that's just for one extra digit. Ford has four.
For Ford to have fully functional polydactyly on both hands and both feet, to the point where it's basically impossible to tell which one is finger x without x-rays... the odds of that are astronomically unlikely. Never-before-recorded, one in a kazillion, borderline medically unfathomable sort of rare.
I think I do believe the Weirdness Magnetism could've affected Ford, actually.
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i can never understand all the people going “covid’s just a cold” “it’s just like the flu”. it’s not influenza or a rhinovirus. covid sars-cov-2: severe accute respiratory syndrome coronavirus 2. scientifically, it can never be a cold or flu, and it will cause severe accute respiratory syndrome. that’s not posturing or dramatics, it’s science
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getvalentined · 18 days
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Thinking about finally throwing all my FF7 meta analysis and lore deep dive stuff onto a sideblog. It'd be reblogged from here, but I'd be able to organize it a little better, have a directory so people could find things more easily, and maybe it'd stop people from regurgitating things I say word-for-word for brownie points when they can just find and reblog the fucking original post(s).
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shameboree · 1 year
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“ive never had a hyperfixation ever in my life” i say having been neurotically obsessed w prions and transmissible spongiform encephalopathies since i was actually for real 6 years old. i think about protein misfolding once a day at MINIMUM. blorbos come and go but prions are Literally forever
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90sbee · 5 months
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do you ever think about how english allows for a lot of cool vivid expressions with verbs due to combining them with prepositions and how spanish has gender embedded into like every word and how the inflectional system is incredibly rich and. do you ever think of how that changes the way in which we understand and create literature in both languages since they have such different tools for producing poetic imagery. do you ever think about that.
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rexscanonwife · 2 months
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NAWWW not a video ranking the dateability of tf2 mercs calling Engie BLAND and SAFE 😤😤😤
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aldieb · 5 months
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let’s crowdsource my career trajectory (note that i absolutely will not be listening to this poll. unless)
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upagainstthesunset · 11 months
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Metron's Shirt: An Evolutionary Tree
So this is it. This is what I've spent way too many hours on. My most recent magnum opus, if you will. Without further ado, I am pleased to present... 130 thumbnails of Metron's costume across all appearances in comics!
Click here for a full size version of the image from archive.org
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[Image: A tree diagram of 130 cropped images of the DC comics character Metron's costume. Each one depicts the design on his chest from a different comic issue. All images branch at some level from a single one, which is from Metron's first appearance. /End]
Keep reading to learn more about the process and findings...
But Why?
When I started going through Metron's reading list, I noticed that artists often took liberties with the design on his chest. Some made minor adjustments, while others really went off the deep end. But for each one it was still recognizable for the character. So I thought hmm, it'd be interesting to try to map this out and see if I can spot how these changes have evolved over the years. And that is precisely what I set out to do.
The Process
I first took screenshots from every single appearance using my reading list, which I like to tout as the MOST complete and comprehensive Metron reading list in existence (suck it fandom wiki). It took a long time, but eventually I had 202 thumbnails. Now, I should mention that he's been in more comics than that, but sometimes his chest is not shown, or he's depicted so small and far away that the design was not discernable. Of those that I captured, I removed any from the same run that were incredibly similar, leaving only significantly different designs.
Then I went oldest to newest, starting with Kirby's first published depiction, and for each tried to find which images seemed like the closest matches. This means a given image is only ever inspired by those that chronologically came before it. For runs that had multiple images, I tried to make the first occurrence the parent of the others. This wasn't a hard and fast rule I followed, but did help model some of the evolution.
When matching, I limited it so that a single image would have no more than two parents. Of course, it is incredibly likely that some of these depictions really have a large swath of influences, but I really didn't want to make a jumbled web, so for my own sanity we're sticking to only the two most prevalent influences. That said, there is no limit on number of children, so a single image may have inspired many others.
The Criteria
While matching, I did my best and went purely off of visuals after satisfying these other limitations. Here are the points on which I made these evaluations:
Neck lines - Presence, number
Horizontal bar (line crossing the big circle): Position
Vertical bar (line going through big circle and/or chest): Presence
Dongle (little circle in the big circle): Presence, position, thickness, orientation
Tab (little inverted T shape under the big circle): Present, shape
Tentacles (wavy lines from the bottom of the big circle to the bottom of the design): Presence, thickness, angle/shape, length
Vestigial tentacles (subcategory of tentacles but more like tiny claws): Presence, shape, orientation
Bulge (curved shape at the bottom of the design that meets the tentacles): Presence, shape
Side dots - Presence, number, size, orientation relative to the edge of the background, circle vs rectangle
Background (outer shape the design sits in): Presence, shape relative to the big circle, shape near the waist or hips, border lines
Overall line look: Thickness, business/extra designs, glowing effects
Various colors: lines, big circle background, little circles, chest background, etc.
Findings!
These are just a few interesting points I wanted to share, but there are many more connections to be made as you follow some of these evolutions.
It's no surprise that Kirby's original run inspired many other artists, but a surprising amount branched off of Metron's Hunger Dogs appearance specifically.
A surprising number of depictions don't have the bulge shape, creating sort of a family of designs.
Another family of designs has very angular tentacles, which to me seem to have been inspired by Kirby's Mister Miracle run.
I was very unsure where to put New Gods 1998 #1, but it really spawned a whole set of overly complicated designs.
My favorite discovery is the origins of the "vestigial tentacles" from my criteria list. They can be trace backed to two vertical lines coming off the big circle in Who's Who in the DC Universe 1992!
Naming Conventions
There is a file name under each thumbnail, which starts with the word "shirt", followed by the comic title, the year the run originated if needed for disambiguation, the issue number, and finally the page number. This was done to make referencing these easier, which I'm so glad I did.
And the reason I started each one with "shirt" is because guess what, his chest design was not the only thing I recorded. I just so happen to have a folder of 199 thumbnails of the Mobius Chair waiting to be processed.
Some Caveats
I admit there were some I still feel iffy about, so I'd be surprised if you don't find a few you disagree with. Part of the fun is trying to determine what might've actually inspired what, versus artists who by chance came to the same conclusion with the design. All of this is guess work, and without asking the artists directly, I don't think we will have definitive answers. But if you take a close look, I think there are definitely some we can feel fairly confident about!
Apologies that there's a lot more to see here than I'm going to be able to describe in the image description. If you have any questions about the details, feel free to ask.
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lovevalley45 · 6 months
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thank u to my chicanx lit professor for having three (3) pretty heavy duty things all due on the same day, it's not like i have other classes or want to do other stuff
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andromeda3116 · 1 year
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looking at job prospects in science writing (depressing), and one of them is offering $80k/year. i look at it out of curiosity. it requires a phd.
for $80,000 per year. a phd. you want someone who has a fucking phd in a life science for $80,000 per year
jesus christ we are living in the worst timeline
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fullwets · 1 year
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me: i think maybe i’m finally normal
my brain: V˙O2peak, Body Composition, and Neck Strength of Elite Motor Racing Drivers
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tanoraqui · 2 years
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A steady breeze carried both fresh air and the sounds of Tirion into Arafinwë’s study, blocked not at all by the low palace walls and the wide plaza between them and the city proper, and he welcomed both. He’d reviewed and signed all the paperwork he needed to sign by noon, but the late summer was hot here in the hills of the Calacirya, and if he admitted to being free, his brother would no doubt rope him into whatever last-minute scrambles were happening for the Festival of Stars next week. And if Nolofinwë didn’t, Lalwendë definitely would. He didn’t mind, really - he’d start lending a hand tomorrow, when the scramble started to reach a fever pitch. But surely he could spend one more lazy afternoon with the latest journal from Tirion University’s agricultural department?
The susurrus of a bustling city rose and fell, and rose again with increasingly loud cheers. Arafinwë paid it little mind, attention focused on an article about novel soil combinations, even as the cheers approached the palace - one of the guilds was no doubt unveiling an illicit sneak peek of their parade float, hoping to drum up early support in the public-voted contests. It was explicitly against the rules and it happened every year. 
Then someone ran into the courtyard directly below his window, shouting, “The Crown Prince has arrived early, with his whole family! We need all those bedrooms turned out now!”
Arafinwë dropped the journal in his lap (page carefully held) and thunked his head against the back of his chair. Fëanáro, why. So much for his one more afternoon of peace - so much for the next two weeks of peace, with Fëanáro...
...still in Mandos, along with (almost) all his sons and, more recently, his only grandson, and Nerdanel hadn’t been to Tirion since the late First Age. It was 2,344 years into the Second Age, now. A stand by the door held a sheathed sword, which fortunately he hadn’t needed to draw in millennia; the shelves were decorated with not just artwork from throughout Eldamar but relics from Beleriand, souvenirs from Númenor. Arafinwë, not his father, was the High King of the Noldor in Tirion-upon-Túna. And the Crown Prince now riding up the hill to the palace, leading what sounded like half the city in an impromptu celebratory parade, was his eldest son, Findarato, called Finrod since his sojourn in Middle Earth, in company with his wife Amarië and their five daughters, Arafinwë’s granddaughters, Nolórë, Mínakánis, Satarissë, Tinúviel, and Maranwiel.
Unless they’d had yet another in their time away, without telling anyone except perhaps the distant Avari they’d been visiting. It wouldn’t be the first time.
(It would not, it occurred to Arafinwë, have been the first time for Fëanáro and Nerdanel to have done that, either. Minus the Avari, of course.)
Finrod and Amarië’s voices rose in song together, quickly joined by their daughters and half the crowd. Tinúviel, true to her name, was precocious in the skill of her singing voice. 
Arafinwë kept staring at the ceiling for a few more quiet minutes, agricultural journal forgotten in his lap, and thought about the nature of reprises.
#the silmarillion#finarfin#finrod#my fic#ficlet#this fic brought to you by: I had multiple unrelated headcanons about post-reembodiment!Finrod#and then I looked at the headcanons in conjunction and went “wait fuck”#and then I decided to give that “wait fuck” moment to Finrod’s father#for the high crime of being one of my favorite minimally explored characters#IS IT just a matter of destiny that the crown prince of the noldor in aman will be a very multi-interested person who travels a lot and#has an increasingly large horde/cacaphony of children? or chicken and eff is this the sort of person the noldor just like to cheer?#answer: yes#also if you wanna know if my arafinwe is specifically interested in agriculture: no he reads all sorts of scientific journals for fun#he rarely feels the drive to lead investigation himself but indis didn't name him 'the noldo' for nothing#periodically he'll write someone a letter like 'have you tried this angle of thought' or 'you should consult with [person in a completely#different field of study]' and it almost always helps with some sort of breakthrough; this too is why they keep elecitng him high king#(though not yet at this point in the timeline. yes yes eventually i'll sit down and make a a timeline of royal elections of the noldor)#oh also YES finrod names all his kids after dead mortals whom he loved of COURSE he did#he doesn't go in order though; it's vibes by child#nolore (wise heart) for andreth saelind#minakanis (eager chieftain) for barahir; sararisse (loyal companion/follower) for beor#tinuviel is actually her mothername; her father name means 'boldness' (beren); that girl is gonna Shake Things Up one day idk quite how#and maranwiel 'daughter of destiny' for turin whom finrod wishes he'd met bc he gets that fate can be a bitch and turin sounds like he meant#well all the time and tried his best for nargothrond
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coffee-in-veins · 1 year
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Day 28: Witch’s brew
an entry for darkest prompts promptober 2022  
previous days: 1, 2, 3,  4, 5, 6,  7,  8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27
now available on ao3 too
Witch NOUN - a woman thought to have magic powers, especially evil ones, popularly depicted as wearing a black cloak and pointed hat and flying on a broomstick.
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Don't care for the critics My words are like physics A force that they can't stop They just don't get it, I think they forget I'm not done till I'm on top I know I was born for this I know I was born for this
-- Born For This by The Score
A man in a robe claimed communication with the divine and a man in glasses claimed to teach her the intricacies of nature, and they both insisted that all women are witches and most of all those who show defiance of their role. It’s the Light’s will and in the woman’s sacred part to be fertile and make increase, preached the first in a smoke-filled box stinking of tallow and unwashed bodies of other citizens. It is only natural to reduce them to their reproductive role, for this was the natural way of things, argued the latter, hinting that she had no business staying in the halls of learning despite – or maybe precisely because of – her scandalous theories.
To her, in the end, they both were full of hollow words and nothing else of worth. Just irritating buzzing at the outskirts of her brilliant mind.
She couldn’t forget the only time she was one-upped, though. The pain and the wailing of her professor Celsus never stopped haunting her nights, yet with enough dedication and the right type of concoctions that, too, was a struggle she overcame with time and dedication.
Witches of the old were covered in dirt and mud, hunched and vile, mutated by the word of mouth just as much if not more as they were by their craft. They had no idea what they were doing, repeating whatever worked once in the past, mindlessly, traditionally. But she was not one of those. She was the witch of the newcome era, the era of science and education, completely opposite from those repulsive misconceptions – yet hated and shunned just as much.
Currently busy with her research, she was in the clean atrium, sterile as the dilapidated room would allow her, with bad miasma firmly chained and at bay by the incense with her most potent, perfected blend of fume-destroying substances. Freshly sharpened scalpels lined on her right in the tray of purifying solutions, and the table in front of her was covered in water-tight skins so that not a drop of potentially infectious substances would remain there after she was done.
This was her domain, her “kingdom come” of brightly lit lamps and the stench of rubbing alcohol so potent it was felt even through the smell of warding herbs in the beak of her trusty mask. She was a general leading her assault of knowledge and scientific approach against what feeble minds had called “the unfathomable” – because to her, it was merely “yet uncharted”.
Paracelsus gazed upon bits and pieces presented to her by the bloodsucker hunters, the vast shimmering planes of glistening wings and fleshy tubes of cut-off proboscis, ripped-out needle-like fangs and barbarically butchered organs, black orbs of eyes and dark-glass bottles.
A repulsive heap of flesh which already started to decompose and potentially dangerous trash to a passer-by.
A treasure trove of possibilities that held keys to their salvation, to someone of her intelligence.
The Heiress lowered herself to the concerns of her hired goons for once and called forth those she deemed most capable of solving the Crimson Curse issue that encroached on her lands after some unfortunate villager stumbled upon the entrance to the once-grandiose Court. Paracelsus was an obvious choice – along with a few other, less noteworthy candidates. Despite the wounds she obtained during expeditions, her mind was even sharper than back at the Academy.
She was tasked with the impossible, yet again, but unlike the last time, that single failure that still haunted her troubled dreams, she had the experience to back her bold claims and dozens of successful (and one not so successful…) expeditions to the cursed Estate to know what she was supposedly dealing with. Thus, she cut and she carved and she sliced and she divided tissues, determined to reach this new frontier, forfeiting sleep and sustenance in her single-minded pursuit. To her left, another table was laden with distillation setups, vats and vials of previous batches deemed passable enough to keep and record the results.
It wasn’t a proper woman’s work they said.
It wasn’t the divine plan for her, they said.
It wasn’t the natural order of things, they said.
She must have been a witch, they said.
And indeed, she was seen as one. She was the witch of the new era, and it mattered not if she used the ladle of the previous noteworthy herbalist of this Estate in her current research. A useful tool was a useful tool regardless of personal history, and the notable non-corrosive properties of the cutlery proved most valuable when dealing with the infected blood and the blood of the infected. The bubbling of round-bottomed flasks and the clanking of scalpels were her chants, the tables of reagents and reaction times were her Black book, and the oozing flesh and cursed teeth were her herbs. Once proficient at tests on the blood-soaked battlegrounds, now her battles were held on reagent-drenched autopsy tables as well as constantly updated chemical composition tables.
Because Paracelsus was going to brew her own batch of “Blood”, cracking the recipe of the cursed brew and opening Hamlet’s very own madness-tinted vintners, or kill every bloodsucker in the vicinity for ingredients while trying to achieve that.
Either way, what a glorious day to be considered a witch by barbarians.
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starlightkun · 8 months
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reading scientific articles on human scent glands to write one scene of a fic. sigh. guess what fic this is for.........
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florenceisfalling · 2 years
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whenever ppl ask for sources as a gotcha instead of actually Wanting sources it makes me so sad. i have so many sources please for the love of god let me post my sources Please
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the gillion in my brain is telling me to write an extensive lore post about triton biology
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