ok I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned this but I keep thinking about the story of Jack and the Beanstalk and how the best character in the whole story is only briefly mentioned. We’re given such limited amount of information about the guy that sells Jack the beans. essentially:
This guy has access to MAGIC BEANS
He either has NO USE for MAGIC BEANS or so many of them that he can just dispose of them
there are so many hilarious things about the apollo program because they were basically making everything up as they went along.
like, the saturn rocket family wasn’t actually designed for the apollo program. the us army one day just decided “you know what? let’s big a huge fucking rocket. don’t know what we’re gonna put on it, but we’ll think of something.” and then nasa was like “well we wanna go to the moon but we’re gonna need a big huge rocket for that.” and the gao said “you’re building a rocket with nothing to put on it, and you’re looking for a big rocket to go to the moon. you’re together now.”
the original mission plan was to land a giant lander on the moon’s surface that would carry all three astronauts to to moon’s surface and the astronauts would have to climb down a 100 foot ladder. so they said “okay this is the plan and designed the command and service module around that idea, and the engine in that rocket was designed for that mission.
then they came up with an idea that would mean instead of using a hilariously huge rocket like they had planned, they could use a medium-sized rocket like the saturn 5. but this would carry a separate, light-weight lander which would land two people on the moon while the command and service module would stay in orbit.
but this meant that the engine for the CSM was waaaaaay more powerful than it needed to be for use only in orbit and not having to lift off from the lunar surface.
one thing you should remember about the apollo astronauts, they were all basically a bunch of frat boys, which has it’s own set of problems that nasa would later rectify for the shuttle program.
on apollo 7, wally schirra had a head cold and since he had been planning to retire after the mission, he got really irritable with houston and basically just started talking smack back to houston over having to do a tv broadcast from space. when it came time for re-entry, wally didn’t want to wear a helmet during reentry because he needed to be able to pop his ears and sinuses as the air pressure changed, and he couldn’t do that in a helmet.
none of the apollo 7 crew ever flew again.
apollo 8 was a mission that nasa threw together at the last minute because the ussr had tested the N-1 rocket which was gonna go to the moon, the N-1 didn’t work and would never work. apollo 8 was supposed to test the lunar module in orbit, but that wasn’t ready so they made apollo 8 into apollo 9 and got rid of a manned high-earth orbit mission that had been planned. the new mission for apollo 8 that nasa had improvised was to launch a saturn 5 with a dummy weight where the lunar module would be, and for the command and service module to go orbit the moon and come back.
apollo 9 was the original apollo 8 mission and was there to test the lunar module in earth orbit. one of the astronauts, the lunar module pilot, was a guy named “rusty shackleford schweickart” they were supposed to test the new space suits and portable life support system backpacks on the first day. unfortunately, rusty had space sickness his first day and was feeling kinda queasy, so that got pushed back. nasa didn’t know a whole lot about space sickness at the time, and they didn’t realize that about half of the people who go up into space get it, and that it usually passes after a day or so. sadly, since this wasn’t understood, schweickart was basically blacklisted from being an astronaut after this.
on apollo 10, SOMEBODY let loose a turd that just floated around the cabin and nobody would admit to who did the poo, leading to one of the astronauts chasing after it with a napkin to dispose of it. who did it? who did the poo?
on apollo 11 the water that the crew was drinking was actually the waste products of the fuel cells which provided electrical power, but one of the problems was that it was FULL of hydrogen bubbles trapped inside. this meant that the apollo 11 crew was pretty much farting all the time.
apollo 12’s backup crew managed to sneak some playboy pictures into the astronauts checklists while they were on the moon. so pete conrad and al bean, while on the moon looked at their checklists of “things to do on the moon.” turn the page and oh look there is HARDCORE PORNOGRAPHY HERE. it took 2 missions and you guys are already sneaking porn down to the moon.
apollo 13 as we all know, didn’t land on the moon, but did get a sexy tom hanks movie instead. but! because the lunar module was going to be re-entering the earth’s atmosphere, there were some experiments that were supposed to have been left on the moon’s surface that was going to burn up in the atmosphere. these surface experiments were powered by a radioisotope thermal generator, which uses the heat generated by the decay of plutonium-238. so there were legit concerns that this could have created a radioactive cloud in the atmosphere. it didn’t, the fuel casks stayed intact as they were designed to do and are still sitting at the bottom of a trench somewhere in the pacific.
(if you’re worried about radioactivity, don’t be, water is very good at absorbing radiation. like if you say in an inner tube on top of the pool of a nuclear reactor, you would be exposed to more radiation from outer space than from the reactor itself)
on apollo 14, the backup crew had a parody patch made, which showed wile e coyote with a huge grey beard approaching the moon on a rocket, only to discover the roadrunner already there with the words “beep beep” on top. because the backup crew gets to set the spacecraft up for the prime crew, they hid these patches basically everywhere inside the command module and the lunar module. alan shepard even had one stuck on the back of his life support backpack during the first spacewalk.
on apollo 15, the crew decided to make a lil bit of extra money and so they snuck on board a bunch of stamp covers onto the spacecraft, the idea being that when they got home, they’d sign them all and sell them for money some time after the apollo program since they had been in space / to the moon. well, the dealer who they had made the agreement with decided to sell them immediately, and people found out about it, and it caused a pretty big ruckus. and so none of the apollo 15 crew ever flew in space again.
for apollo 16, nasa added a lot of citrus to the diets of the astronauts, thinking that some health problems on apollo 15 were caused by a deficiency of potassium. however, this meant that with that much citrus in their diet, the astronauts were farting constantly. commander john young even was bitching about it in some very colorful language to the lunar module pilot charlie duke. what young and duke didn’t realize, was that as they were complaining about having the farts and the amounts of citrus they were drinking, they’re microphone was on, and broadcasting. so the entire world got to hear about how john young hadn’t “had this much citrus fruit in 20 years, and in another 12 fucking days” he wouldn’t have any more.
on apollo 17, harrison schmitt was the first geologist to land on the moon, and one of the last people to land on it. however, he was also kinda clumsy, and while on the moon he tended to trip and fall over. a lot. seriously. anyway, he went back to new mexico and now he’s a climate change denier.
elder scrolls lore is really weird because like first you get into the series and you’re like yep okay medieval fantasy thing yep cool and then you read a bit and learn some of the races history and then you read a bit more and suddenly there are fucking spaceships
It’s not often that a self-respecting journalist can write that phrase, not least of which one that considers himself aggressively non-partisan. If we do, we can usually expect a guest role in the next Conservative party fundraising email.
But the government has spent the last several years actively thwarting the democratic will of Parliament by kneecapping a bill that would afford human rights protections to transgender people. And that’s unconscionable.
Even though the Senate committee is studying the bill, it doesn’t look good for C-279.
Bill C-279 is an NDP initiative that, simply put, affords trans people the same rights as other minorities. It would allow them to file complaints to the Human Rights Commission if discriminated against, and it would make committing or advocating violence against trans people, because of their gender, a hate crime.
You know, crazy stuff that would up-end our civilization as we know it, allowing dogs to marry brooms and whatnot.
These are protections every other minority already has. I get fired for gaying it up at work, for example, I could file a complaint against my employer. Or, if I’m attacked by a hate-driven neo-Nazi, the community could rest assured knowing that the law would lock him up and throw away the key.
Adding to the why-haven’t-you-passed-this-yet column is the fact that six of the provinces, including Ontario, have already adopted these provisions on the provincial level.
These simple, but powerful, changes are being opposed by this stubborn government.
Led by their flatfooted captain, a gaggle of bleating goats from Canada’s increasingly-irrelevant cult of social conservatism have dubbed this legislation “the bathroom bill,” arguing that it would allow men to wander into women’s changerooms with impunity. An Ontario man, they squawked gleefully, tried to get entry to a women’s shelter by claiming he was trans and he’s protected by the Ontario law!
Baloney. That man was arrested and sentenced to indefinite detention as a dangerous sex offender after a judge, as well as everyone else, agreed that he was not actually transgender.
The more reasonable Conservatives, however, have argued that the bill is merely unnecessary, as courts and tribunals already read protections for trans people into the existing laws, under the “sex” and “disability” classes.
But aside from the obviously offensive pretext of calling trans people disabled, it’s obvious that writing in these protections would have a huge impact. Indeed, they may have helped in the case of Shelby Tracy Tom, a trans woman who was strangled to death and dumped in an alley by a man who killed her because he saw the scars from her sexual reassignment surgery. He copped to manslaughter, serving just four-and-a-half-years, as there appeared to be no initiative to try that murder as a hate crime, even as the judge admitted that he killed Tom because she was trans.
Most police services don’t even report the number of crimes committed against trans people.
But not all Conservatives who are culpable in this; 18 supported the bill and, with their support, it passed the House of Commons.
Which is where the real offence comes in: the Senate is killing it.
The Senate Liberals, as well as several Conservatives, are trying to get it brought forward again to be voted on, but the government in the Senate is stalling. It’s increasingly likely that C-279 will simply die on the garish carpets of the red chamber, bludgeoned to death by a pig-headed government.
It’s incredibly clear that this is the work of the Prime Minister’s Office — evidenced by the fact MPs were given talking points insisting that “there is no need for a societal debate” on adding these protections for trans people.
The octogenarian bagmen in our broom-closet of so-called ‘sober second thought’ are thwarting a bill passed by our elected Members of Parliament to give people human rights protections, because the Prime Minister is telling them to.
For a government supposedly so endeared to reforming our national democratic hangover, and professedly so excited about their newfound friendship with the LGBTQ community, this is a case of petulant hypocrisy.
Angrily throw something out a window or flip a table, because this isn’t how our democracy is supposed to work.
the origons of Ouija boards are funny if you think about it like they’re part of an another country (China)’s ancient history that was practiced until one emporer decided “You know what this is probably a bad idea” and banned the practice.
then centuries later an old buisnessman comes along and is like “I’m going to take this and market it as a toy to children.”
I'm confused about what Beethoven was doing in the black composers post. He was German.
By golly gee! I keep forgetting that Black people didn’t exist until the Fresh Prince of Bel Air came on television! Or that Black people existed in anywhere else than Africa even with slavery going on :) My apologies.
Anyway, here’s proof that Beethoven was Black:
"… Said directly, Beethoven was a black man. Specifically, his mother was a Moor, that group of Muslim Northern Africans who conquered parts of Europe—making Spain their capital—for some 800 years.
In order to make such a substantial statement, presentation of verifiable evidence is compulsory. Let’s start with what some of Beethoven’s contemporaries and biographers say about his brown complexion:
"Frederick Hertz, German anthropologist, used these terms to describe him: ‘Negroid traits, dark skin, flat, thick nose.’
Emil Ludwig, in his book ‘Beethoven,’ says: ‘His face reveals no trace of the German. He was so dark that people dubbed him Spagnol [dark-skinned].’
Fanny Giannatasio del Rio, in her book ‘An Unrequited Love: An Episode in the Life of Beethoven,’ wrote ‘His somewhat flat broad nose and rather wide mouth, his small piercing eyes and swarthy [dark] complexion, pockmarked into the bargain, gave him a strong resemblance to a mulatto.’
Beethoven’s death mask: profile and full face
C. Czerny stated, ‘His beard—he had not shaved for several days—made the lower part of his already brown face still darker.’
Following are one word descriptions of Beethoven from various writers: Grillparzer, ‘dark’; Bettina von Armin, ‘brown’; Schindler, ‘red and brown’; Rellstab, ‘brownish’; Gelinek, ‘short, dark.’
In Alexander Thayer’s Life of Beethoven, vol.1, p. 134, the author states, “there is none of that obscurity which exalts one to write history as he would have it and not as it really was. The facts are too patent.” On this same page, he states that the German composer Franz Josef Haydn was referred to as a “Moor” by Prince Esterhazy, and Beethoven had “even more of the Moor in his looks.’ On p. 72, a Beethoven contemporary, Gottfried Fischer, describes him as round-nosed and of dark complexion. Also, he was called ‘der Spagnol’ (the Spaniard).
Other “patent” sources, of which there are many, include, but are not limited to, Beethoven by Maynard Solomon, p.78. He is described as having “thick, bristly coal-black hair” (in today’s parlance, we proudly call it ‘kinky’) and a ‘ruddy-complexioned face.’ In Beethoven: His Life and Times by Artes Orga, p.72, Beethoven’s pupil, Carl Czerny of the ‘School of Velocity’ fame, recalls that Beethoven’s ‘coal-black hair, cut a la Titus, stood up around his head [sounds almost like an Afro]. His black beard…darkened the lower part of his dark-complexioned face.’
Engraving by Blasius Hofel, Beethoven, 1814, color facsimile of engraving after a pencil drawing by Louis Letronne. This engraving was regarded in Beethoven’s circle as particularly lifelike. Beethoven himself thought highly of it, and gave several copies to his friends.
So why does Cracked CONSTANTLY push Feminist propaganda so hard? And let's not bullshit ourselves. You do. Just yesterday you published five articles. Two specifically referenced either Feminism or Feminist backed statistics. Conversely whenever you cover anything related to the opposition you not only mislead about their views... you straight up fucking lie about them and people let you get away with it because you're a "humor magazine". So I'm wondering why you propagandize *so hard*. Why?
Because we’re true believers!
Let me take this moment to say how Cracked could have gone another direction 7 or 8 years ago, a more Maximy, Booby Gallery of the Day direction if not for the steadfast resistance of David Wong and Jack O’Brien. I barely acknowledge the side that opposes feminism, but Wong goes out of his way to understand people who are mad at feminists, and he writes about those views with more sensitivity and understanding that I could ever muster.
To sum up: We don’t have an explicit agenda but if one comes across, It’s not one I’m ashamed of.
When the countdown on the “Emma You Are Next” website ended, predictably it did not end with any nude photos. Instead it redirected to the website of a company called Rantic Marketing, whose website is plastered with a giant “#Shutdown4chan” logo and whose CEO, “Brad Cockingham” (I think you can see where this is going) claims in an open letter to President Barack Obama that they’ve been hired by “Celebrity publicists” to bring attention to the privacy-invading actions of 4chan.
if you’re not following what’s going on with 4chan right now do some research because it’s fuckin crazy
"There is a huge gap between us (Jews) and our enemies, not just in ability but in morality, culture, sanctity of life, and conscience. They are our neighbors here, but it seems as if at a distance of a few hundred meters away, there are people who do not belong to our continent, to our world, but actually belong to a different galaxy." -Israeli president Moshe Katsav. The Jerusalem Post, May 10, 2001
"When we have settled the land, all the Arabs will be able to do about it will be to scurry around like drugged cockroaches in a bottle." Raphael Eitan, Chief of Staff of the Israeli Defence Forces, New York Times, 14 April 1983.
" [The Palestinians are] beasts walking on two legs." Menahim Begin, speech to the Knesset, quoted in Amnon Kapeliouk, "Begin and the Beasts". New Statesman, 25 June 1982.
Frogs fall out of my mouth when I talk. Toads, too.
It used to be a problem.
There was an incident when I was young and cross and fed up parental expectations. My sister, who is the Good One, has gold fall from her lips, and since I could not be her, I had to go a different way.
So I got frogs. It happens.
“You’ll grow into it,” the fairy godmother said. “Some curses have cloth-of-gold linings.” She considered this, and her finger drifted to her lower lip, the way it did when she was forgetting things. “Mind you, some curses just grind you down and leave you broken. Some blessings do that too, though. Hmm. What was I saying?”
I spent a lot of time not talking. I got a slate and wrote things down. It was hard at first, but I hated to drop the frogs in the middle of the road. They got hit by cars, or dried out, miles away from their damp little homes.
Toads were easier. Toads are tough. After awhile, I learned to feel when a word was a toad and not a frog. I could roll the word around on my tongue and get the flavor before I spoke it. Toad words were drier. Desiccated is a toad word. So is crisp and crisis and obligation. So are elegant and matchstick.
Frog words were a bit more varied. Murky. Purple. Swinging. Jazz.
I practiced in the field behind the house, speaking words over and over, sending small creatures hopping into the evening. I learned to speak some words as either toads or frogs. It’s all in the delivery.
Love is a frog word, if spoken earnestly, and a toad word if spoken sarcastically. Frogs are not good at sarcasm.
Toads are masters of it.
I learned one day that the amphibians are going extinct all over the world, that some of them are vanishing. You go to ponds that should be full of frogs and find them silent. There are a hundred things responsible—fungus and pesticides and acid rain.
When I heard this, I cried “What!?” so loudly that an adult African bullfrog fell from my lips and I had to catch it. It weighed as much as a small cat. I took it to the pet store and spun them a lie in writing about my cousin going off to college and leaving the frog behind.
I brooded about frogs for weeks after that, and then eventually, I decided to do something about it.
I cannot fix the things that kill them. It would take an army of fairy godmothers, and mine retired long ago. Now she goes on long cruises and spreads her wings out across the deck chairs.
But I can make more.
I had to get a field guide at first. It was a long process. Say a word and catch it, check the field marks. Most words turn to bronze frogs if I am not paying attention.
Poison arrow frogs make my lips go numb. I can only do a few of those a day. I go through a lot of chapstick.
It is a holding action I am fighting, nothing more. I go to vernal pools and whisper sonnets that turn into wood frogs. I say the words squeak and squill and spring peepers skitter away into the trees. They begin singing almost the moment they emerge.
I read long legal documents to a growing audience of Fowler’s toads, who blink their goggling eyes up at me. (I wish I could do salamanders. I would read Clive Barker novels aloud and seed the streams with efts and hellbenders. I would fly to Mexico and read love poems in another language to restore the axolotl. Alas, it’s frogs and toads and nothing more. We make do.)
The woods behind my house are full of singing. The neighbors either learn to love it or move away.
My sister—the one who speaks gold and diamonds—funds my travels. She speaks less than I do, but for me and my amphibian friends, she will vomit rubies and sapphires. I am grateful.
I am practicing reading modernist revolutionary poetry aloud. My accent is atrocious. Still, a day will come when the Panamanian golden frog will tumble from my lips, and I will catch it and hold it, and whatever word I spoke, I’ll say again and again, until I stand at the center of a sea of yellow skins, and make from my curse at last a cloth of gold.
Terri Windling posted recently about the old fairy tale of frogs falling from a girl’s lips, and I started thinking about what I’d do if that happened to me, and…well…
You know how if you go through years and years of “best science fiction short stories”, every so often you find some short story you’ve never heard of before, but it’s just amazing and brilliant and leaves you wondering why you never read stories with that plot before? This is one of those.
Hey the thing I reblogged earlier reminded me to mention this:
I can promise all my followers that I do not post or reblog jump scares, ever, because A) I don’t like them and they suck, and B) I know at least a few of my followers have anxiety in one form or another and I’m not going to be that jerk.
So yes. There will be no jump scares from this blog, just wanted to ease your minds preemptively.