Kelly. 26. she/her. Maryland, USA, Earth, The Known Universe. Hot mess of multifandom best enjoyed with cinnamon.
Remember the World of Tanks simulator? It got an upgrade.
#Why are the bottles full!#Even if you want the weight at least fill them with water (x)
REAL gamers simulate the fear of death by shaking a bottle of room-temperature Wild Cherry™ Pepsi® and launching it through the air right next to their $10,000 gaming rig.
Oh my god the END. They fully inhabited the spirits they were manifesting. Thank you so much
This is UNCANNY.
This genre of re-enactment of video game logic/bugs/behaviour will never cease to be immensely funny
Not to mention everyone who does it is so insanely talented at portraying not only the vibes, but being dead on with the motion. I mean the courier in this alone has amazing core strength and rag dolls the EXACT way that bodies do in game. It’s honestly incredible.
Once upon a time there was a city called Omelas, where everyone lived good and happy and fulfilling lives.
And in time it came to pass that a young man by the name of Outis came of age in that city; and, as with all who lived in that city, he was taken to a secret place where a wise elder showed him a small cold dirty room. And in that room there was a small cold dirty child, naked and hurt and starving, who had never known the least human kindness.
And the wise elder said to Outis, “In our city, everything is good and no one suffers. But it all depends on this child. If the least kindness is shown to him, our city will become like all other cities. There must always be such a child in Omelas.” …
…And Outis said to the elder, “If our city becomes like all other cities, many children will suffer.” And so he became a citizen of Omelas. And Outis led a good and happy and fulfilling life; and the child continued to suffer.
…And Outis said to the elder, “I will have no part in this evil thing.” And he walked away from Omelas. And Outis led a cold and short and brutish life; and the child continued to suffer.
…And Outis said to the elder, “I will have no part in this evil thing.” And he took the child and bathed him and cared for his wounds. And the city of Omelas became like all other cities; and many children suffered there.
…And Outis said to the elder, “I will have no part in this evil thing.” And he took the child and bathed him and cared for his wounds. And the city of Omelas carried on as it always had; and from that day forth no child suffered there.
…And Outis said to the elder, “I will have no part in this evil thing.” And he took the child and bathed him and cared for his wounds. And the city of Omelas became like all other cities; and many children suffered there.
But Outis, who would leave no child to suffer, worked tirelessly to save each one of them, and to build with his own hands a city in which everyone lived a good and happy and fulfilling life; and so in time it came to pass that the latter days of Omelas were greater than the former. And for ten trillion years Omelas carried on, and no child ever suffered there again.
…And Outis said to the elder, “Nevertheless, this child is my son, and I will not leave him to suffer.” And he took the child and bathed him and cared for his wounds. And the city of Omelas became like all other cities; and many children suffered there. But Outis did not care, because he valued the well-being of his son over all of them.
…And Outis asked the elder, “Why?” And the elder showed him to a library filled with books. And Outis studied the books for many years. And when he was an old man with a gray beard, Outis went out of the library and returned to the child and took the child out of the room, and in the child’s place he put a stone. And the stone was naked and dirty and cold; and the child Outis took and bathed and cared for. And Omelas carried on as it always had; and from that day forth no child suffered there.
Once upon a time there was a city called Omelas, where everyone lived good and happy and fulfilling lives; except for one child, who suffered so that the city might prosper. And all who lived there knew of this…
…And each citizen of Omelas, having looked into himself and seen that he would stand by while a child suffered in abject misery, found in himself a new willingness to do dark and evil deeds. And in time, all those who lived in Omelas suffered.
…And each citizen of Omelas lived with the gnawing guilt of his complicity, and the abiding terror that his own child would be chosen as the next to suffer. And in time it seemed to them that they could take no joy in any of the glories of Omelas.
…And one night, the child rose up and went out of his room and killed all the people of Omelas in their sleep.
Once upon a time there was a city called Omelas, where everyone lived good and happy and fulfilling lives. And each morning, each citizen of Omelas was taken to a small cold dirty room, and shown a small cold dirty child, and told that the child must suffer so that his day might be filled with all good things.
And all in Omelas agreed that it was better that one child should suffer than many; and none of them ever asked if it was the same child they saw each morning. And after all, one small cold dirty child looks much like another.
Once upon a time there was a city called Omelas, where everyone lived good and happy and fulfilling lives; except for ten thousand children, who suffered so that the city might prosper. And all who lived there knew of this…
…but none of them were ever taken to see the children in person, so none of them ever did anything about it.
…and whenever anyone saw such a child and “shouldn’t we rescue that suffering child?”, the other citizens of Omelas laughed and replied to them, “Naïve fool! Don’t you know that a child must always suffer in Omelas, so that the city may prosper? Otherwise it would become like all other cities, and many children would suffer.”
And everyone nodded wisely and went along with their days; and so ten thousand children continued to suffer where it might have been only one.
Once upon a time there was a city called Omelas, where everyone lived good and happy and fulfilling lives.
And in time it came to pass that a young man by the name of Outis came of age in that city; and, as with all who lived in that city, he was taken to a secret place where a wise elder showed him a small cold dirty room. And in that room there was a small cold dirty child, naked and hurt and starving, who had never known the least human kindness.
And the wise elder said to Outis, “In our city, everything is good and no one suffers. But it all depends on this child. If the least kindness is shown to him…”
“…the city will continue on as it always has, only your internet will be slightly slower.”
And Outis went back up into the city, and on that day he became a citizen of Omelas; and the child continued to suffer.
“…the best predictions of our scientists suggest that there will be a slight average decrease in various hard-to-measure kinds of happiness, which nevertheless in total adds up to more suffering than this child experiences.”
And Outis said to the elder, “I will have no part in this evil thing.” And he took the child and bathed him and cared for his wounds. And the average happiness increased in some ways and decreased in others, and the net effect might have been negative, but the best results on the matter had p > 0.05, so the scientists of Omelas could not rule out the null hypothesis.
Once upon a time there was a city called Omelas, where everyone lived good and happy and fulfilling lives.
And in Omelas there was a naked dirty child in a small dirty room; because the child was agoraphobic and was making mudpies.
Once upon a time there was a city called Omelas, where everyone lived good and happy and fulfilling lives.
Very few people told stories about Omelas, but it was a very nice place to live in.
nem sirok csak 65ezren belementek a szemembe
THIS. IS. PERFECTION.
Amazing!
1. how the fuck did Green Day follow that
2. you know, we have fun here, with the word “meme,” but according to meme theory, which is an actual thing pioneered by reptilian human impersonator Richard Dawkins in his 1976 book The Selfish Gene, most of what we call memes are very unsuccessful memes. A meme, in the scientific sense - if one is generously disposed to consider memetics a science on any particular day - is an idea that acts like a gene. That is, it seeks to replicate itself, as many times as possible, and as faithfully as possible.
That second part is important. A gene which is not faithful in its replication mutates, sometimes rapidly, sometimes wildly. The result might be cancer or a virus or (very very very rarely) a viable evolutionary step forward, but whatever the case, it is no longer the original gene. That gene no longer exists. It could not successfully reproduce itself.
The memes we pass around on the internet are, in general, very short lived and rapidly mutating. It’s rare for any meme to survive for more than a year: in almost all cases, they appear, spread rapidly, spawn a thousand short-lived variations, and then are swiftly forgotten. They’re not funny anymore, or interesting anymore. They no longer serve any function, and so they’re left behind, a mental evolutionary dead end.
This rendition of Freddie Mercury’s immortal opera Bohemian Rhapsody is about the most goddamned amazing demonstration of a successful meme I’ve ever seen. This song is 42 years old, as of 2017. FORTY TWO YEARS OLD. And it has spread SO far, and replicated itself across the minds of millions of people SO faithfully, that a gathering of 65,000 more or less random people, with nothing in common except that they all really like it when Billie Joe Armstrong does the thing with the guitar, can reproduce it perfectly. IN PERFECT TIME. THEY KNOW THE EXACT LENGTH OF EVERY BRIDGE. THEY EVEN GET THE NONSENSE WORDS RIGHT. THEY DIVIDE THEMSELVES UP IN ORDER TO SING THE COUNTER-CHORUS.
“Yeah, Pyrrhic, lots of people know this song.”
Listen, you glassy-eyed ninny: our species’ ability to coherently pass along not just genetic information, but memetic information as well, is the reason we’re the dominant species on this planet. Language is a meme. Civilization is a collection of memes. Lots of animals can learn, but we may be the only animal that latches onto ephemera - information that doesn’t reflect any concrete reality, information with little to no immediate practical application - and then joyfully, willfully, unrelentingly repeats it and teaches it to others. Look at how wild this crowd is, because they’re singing the same song! It doesn’t DO anything. It’s not even why they showed up here today! If you sent out a letter to those same 65,000 people that said, “Please show up in this field on this day in order to sing Bohemian Rhapsody,” very few of them would have showed up. But I would be surprised to meet a single person in that crowd who joined in the singing who doesn’t remember this moment as the most amazing part of a concert they paid hundreds of dollars to see.
And they’re just sharing an idea. It’s stunning and ridiculous. Something about how our brains work make us go, “Hey!! Hey everybody!! I found this idea! It’s good! I like it! I’m going to repeat it! Do you know it too?? Repeat it with me! Let’s get EVERYBODY to know it and repeat it and then we can all have it together at the same time! It’s a good idea! I’m so excited to repeat it exactly the way I heard it, as loudly as I can, as often as possible!!”
This is how culture happens! This is how countries happen! Sometimes a persistent, infectious idea - a meme - can be dangerous or dark. But our human delight at clutching up good memes like magpies and flapping back to our flock to yell about them to everyone we know is why we as a species bothered to start doing things like “telling stories” and “writing stuff down.”
“That’s a lot of spilled ink for a Queen song, Pyrrhic.”
Man I just fucking love people.
“That’s a lot of spilled ink for a Queen song, Pyrrhic.”
That’s the only thing this excellent human being got wrong.
I have nothing else to add to this amazing thing other than I was waiting for the moment where 65,000 people started headbanging at the same time
and I was not disappointed
why would she sell sea shells by a sea shore when you can just pick them off of the ground for free that’s not how you run a business
She’s sold sea shells by the seashore since shapely seashore seashells stay scarce. Since she sells superior shells searchers spend centuries searching for, seldom selling simple shells, so she still sustains solid savings.
I couldn’t even read that in my head
someone created a random generator that creates randomized inspirational quotes overlaid on random images in a soothing fashion and each and every image is comic gold
it’s pretty much the best thing ever and here are some of my favorites so far
so good
I’m getting this one made into a motivational poster for my home office
PLEASE GO MAKE SOME OF YOUR OWN RIGHT NOW
okay so i just played the most tragic game of oregon trail in my fucking life and it can be summed up in one screenshot
Doesn’t look like a limerick to you? Try this:
A dozen, a gross, and a score
Plus three times the square root of four
Divided by seven
Plus five times eleven
Is nine squared and not a bit more.
THE HECK HECK HECK HECCCCCKKKKKKKK
POETRY WAS NOT MEANT TO BE USED LIKE THIS
I recently referred to Patrick McHale and Alex Hirsch as “the Tolkien and Lewis of supernatural rural demon sibling animated Americana,” and it wasn’t until afterward that I realized how appropriate this connection actually is, when you consider that Gravity Falls is a show aimed at kids with unexpectedly serious overtones about Good and Evil and centers around a couple of siblings whose parents temporarily send them to live with an enigmatic elderly man hiding portals to another world in his house…
…as opposed to Over the Garden Wall, which is more journey-focused and serious in tone and gives us more evil trees and extended stops at taverns to sing gratuitous musical numbers per square inch than its central character (a conflicted Elijah Wood) is properly equipped to deal with.
WE
BODY ONCE TOLD ME
NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOWN
A LOADED GOD COMPLEX COCK IT AND PULL IT
BURNING UP, JUST LIKE A MATCH YOU LIGHT TO INCINERATE
SO LONG AND GOODNIGHT
LOOK AT THIS PHOTOGRAPH
IF YOUNG METRO DONT TRUST U IMMA SHOOT U
IVE REPLACED MY HEART WITH METAL PARTS
I WANT A PERFECT BODY I WANT A PERFECT SOUL
