#infalible science
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via Twitter
Maybe this is blasphemous on here but the Twitter Beatles fandom really out here doing the Lord’s work 🙏🏾😂
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I'm afraid of being mortal tbh. I wish I was a robot, then I could live forever not having to worry about age or disease.
*I upload my consciousness into my robot body. 2 days later someone finds a security exploit in my software and deletes my consciousness from the hard drive.*
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Being trans is the funniest shit imaginable to me because, like... on a strictly personal level, I love hospitals and I love medicine because I'm trans, but I'm scared of medicine and hospitals (also because I'm trans). Make it make sense, brain!
#trans#transgender#lgbt#lgbtq#ftm#mtf#nonbinary#hospital tw#hospital mention tw#it actually does make sense though i'm just being facetious for the sake of internet posting#no this doesn't mean i think medicine/doctors/medical professionals are infallible and perfect!#i know FIRST-HAND that they aren't perfect and they are often biased because they're human beings#what i love about medicine and all that is that this isn't inherent to medicine#i love that we can change things and make the world better#again like... i think medicine and science and hospitals *can* be a form of love#also like when i said i love needles i do because it's just so fascinating to me#also also this is a huge reason i kind of want to enter the/a medical field#i follow a trans man who just became an MD and inspiring <3
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Btw if you have a bunch of posts about how personality disorders aren't real and need to be removed from the dsm and also reblog a bunch of posts about chemical balances and "studies that prove autistic people have superior pattern recognition" or whatever, I don't trust you.
#because the dsm should only be made up of infallible science right?#right?#because thats what the dsm is right?#psychiatry#anti psych
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i'm fucking hollering, how is this man managing to be wrong about SCIENCE, TOO??
#text#personal#books#MY DUDE!! MY GUY!!!#THIS SHIT HAS BEEN EVOLVING FOR MILLENIA#I ASSURE YOU NOT EVERYTHING SCIENCE THOUGHT WAS TRUE IS TRUE#IT'S FINE IT'S A FEATURE OF THE FIELD NOT A BUG WE KEEP LEARNING MORE IT'S GR8#but FUck TO INSIST THAT 'i dont think it's at all likely that science is a culturally constructed way of thinking that is only true for us--#--and might not be true for someone in another place or another time'#GLOSSES OVER HUGE CHUNKS OF THE HISTORY OF SCIENCE!!!#YOU JUST HAD THIS BEEF WITH RELIGION LAST ESSAY WHY THE FUCK IS YOUR HYPOCRISY SHOWING WHEN ITS ABOUT BELIEVING IN SCIENCE!!!#its all people my dude its all people doing shit and thinking shit and trying to understand their world#and guess what people can be wrong#regardless of if they believe in religion or believe in science#or believe in BOTH#which is a FUCKING OPTION#omfg ive got three essays left im almost free#daemon voices#Philip pullman#anyway science isnt infallible either more news at 11#gosh this man is absolutely not a scientist though#wtf
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i love when people are Very invested in transhistorically excluding something like astrology or phrenology from the noble and enlightening category of ‘science’ but won’t extend this to things like nutrition and weight science, or evolutionary psychology, or like 90% of tech startups, or anything else with the current imprimatur of academic institutions and state-funded research orgs. the correct answer here is that science is not & never has been morally or intellectually infallible, and has been & still can be used to propagate falsehoods, harm people, & reinforce & justify existing inequities
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When attempting to critique the values of a long-running franchise like STAR TREK, it's important to draw a distinction between superficial issues and structural ones.
"Superficial" in this sense doesn't mean "minor" or "unimportant"; it simply means that an issue is not so intrinsic to the premise that the franchise would collapse (or would be radically different) were it changed or removed. For example, misogyny has been a pervasive problem across many generations of STAR TREK media, which have often been characterized by a particular type of leering-creep sexism that was distasteful at the time and has not improved with age. However, sexism and misogyny are not structural elements of the TREK premise; one can do a STAR TREK story where the female characters have agency and even pants without it becoming something fundamentally different from other TREK iterations (even TOS, although there are certainly specific TOS episodes that would collapse if you excised the sexism).
By contrast, the colonialism and imperialism are structural elements — STAR TREK is explicitly about colonizing "the final frontier" and about defending the borders, however defined, of an interstellar colonial power. Different iterations of STAR TREK may approach that premise in slightly different ways, emphasizing or deemphasizing certain specific aspects of it, but that is literally and specifically what the franchise is about. Moreover, because STAR TREK has always been heavily focused on Starfleet and has tended to shy away from depicting life outside of that regimented environment, there are definite limits to how far the series is able to depart from the basic narrative structure of TOS and TNG (a captain and crew on a Starfleet ship) without collapsing in on itself, as PICARD ended up demonstrating rather painfully.
This means that some of the things baked into the formula of STAR TREK are obviously in conflict with the franchise's self-image of progressive utopianism, but cannot really be removed or significantly altered, even if the writers were inclined to try (which they generally are not).
What I find intensely frustrating about most modern STAR TREK media, including TNG and its various successors, is not that it can't magically break its own formula, but that writer and fan attachment to the idea of TREK as the epitome of progressive science fiction has become a more and more intractable barrier to any kind of meaningful self-critique. It's a problem that's become increasingly acute with the recent batch of live-action shows, which routinely depict the Federation or Starfleet doing awful things (like the recent SNW storyline about Una being prosecuted for being a genetically engineered person in violation of Federation law) and then insist, often in the same breath, that it's a progressive utopia, best of all possible worlds.
This is one area where TOS (and to some extent the TOS cast movies) has a significant advantage over its successors. TOS professes to be a better world than ours, but it doesn't claim to be a perfect world (and indeed is very suspicious of any kind of purported utopia). The value TOS most consistently emphasizes is striving: working to be better, and making constructive choices. Although this can sometimes get very sticky and uncomfortable in its own right (for instance, Kirk often rails against what he sees as "stagnant" cultures), it doesn't presuppose the moral infallibility of the Federation, of Starfleet, or of the characters themselves. There's room for them to be wrong, so long as they're still willing to learn and grow.
The newer shows are less and less willing to allow for that, and, even more troublingly, sometimes take pains to undermine their predecessors' attempts along those lines. One appalling recent example is SNW's treatment of the Gorn, which presents the Gorn as intrinsically evil (and quite horrifying) in a way they're not in "Arena," the TOS episode where they were first introduced. The whole point of "Arena" is that while Kirk responds to the Gorn with outrage and anger, he eventually concedes that he may be wrong: There's a good chance that the Gorn are really the injured party, responding to what they reasonably see as an alien invasion, and while that may be an arguable point, sorting it out further should be the purview of diplomats rather than warships. By contrast, SNW presents the Gorn as so irredeemably awful as to make Kirk's (chronologically later) epiphany at best misguided: The SNW Gorn are brutal conquerors who lay eggs in their captives (a gruesome rape metaphor, and in presentation obviously inspired by ALIENS) when they aren't killing each other for sport, and even Gorn newborns are monsters to be feared. Not a lot of nuance there, and no space at all for the kind of detente found in TOS episodes like "The Devil in the Dark."
#teevee#star trek#star trek tos#star trek the next generation#star trek picard#strange new worlds#i find strange new worlds largely unwatchable#and this is a major reason why#along with their determination to no-homo spock
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One interesting thing about Caesar which I basically never see anybody talk about, right, is that his father was killed by raiders. I understand why nobody talks about it, because he's the world's biggest asshole, and the game itself only addresses it in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it line. But it's notable to me because it's basically the textbook example of a Freudian excuse, and in a lesser game likely would have been played up as such. His father gets killed by raiders in the NCR heartland, and fifty years later he's built an empire standing opposite the NCR that's noted for having basically eliminated raiding as a concept within its borders (part-and-parcel with the rest of the oppression.)
This is never directly presented as a contributing factor to Why He's Like That. It isn't presented as the fulfilment of some oath he swore on his murdered father's grave. In fact, it's almost the inverse- you only find out about this when he briefly mentions it as part of the extremely curated, self-aggrandizing backstory that he's giving you as part of an extended sales pitch. It's a curt mention- something that happened, an explanatory factor in how he and his mother wound up in the care of the Followers. A figure he has to account for in telling you his life story, because as an outsider you aren't going to fall for the "Son of Mars" routine. But not something terribly important besides that. Not something with a place in the mythology. Definitely not a loss or absence that's meaningfully impacted him in any way going forward, because the Mighty Caeser is of course totally above such petty concerns.
That digression aside, the point is this- it's comically easy to imagine the version of this story that leveraged these exact backstory details, unchanged, to paint a picture of Caesar as a brooding antihero, making the both-sidesing rampant in the fandom textual. There's probably some Conan-style grim-and-gritty sword-and-sorcery rise-of-a-king epics out there you could seamlessly slot him in as the protagonist of (the man himself reads Grognak comics.) There are the bones of an unironic self-satisfied ultramasculine power fantasy rattling around in there, the shrewd modern man who uses strength, guile and modernity to dominate his lessers, a hard-man-making-hard-choices, the whole process a masturbatory tract in favor of whatever ideology the infallible Great Man Protagonist chooses to embody. This is a kind of story, in science fiction, more often than not a grotesque one. And it's clearly the kind of story Caeser thinks he's the protagonist of. But Hank Morgan this fucker is not. And I'm intensely grateful that the narrative refuses to let him get away with pretending that he is. At the end of the day his army is wearing football gear.
#fallout#fallouot new vegas#fallout caesar#edward sallow#fnv#fonv#fallout: new vegas#thoughts#meta#caesars legion#fallout analysis
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i think i have a solid idea of how the "ackerbond" might work.
Ackermans were created to be the sword and shield for the eldian king, right? but they can't be controlled the same way Eldians can. so an Ackerman isn't a 'slave' to their bond with another person, but i feel they love more intensely than a regular person.
being a product of Titan science guarantees infallible strength and power of a Titan. but they're also human, so it makes sense that they'd look for connection to another person in the same way any other person would, but specifically an equal. so Ackermans look for something in a person that they themselves lack.
Levi looked for a bright future and a peaceful world, even for someone who has suffered and seen suffering as much as him, in Erwin.
Kenny looked for compassion, even for garbage like him, in Uri.
Mikasa looked for true love, even for a world as cruel as hers, in Eren.
*disclaimer, i don't think the "ackerbond" must be romantic.
#at least this is a trend ive noticed#kenuri#eremika#eruri#aot ackermans#ackerman#mikasa ackerman#kenny ackerman#levi ackerman#aot meta
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notes on falling in love
pairing. alhaitham x reader (feat. kaveh)
synopsis. it’s in the little things, really.
wc. 1k
themes. angst, unrequited pining, modern au(ish) because i barely give any description lmao, this is mostly about feelings, feelings tw, alhaitham is a robot science man allergic to the human spectrum of emotion
now playing. hoax by taylor swift
note. the way i’m shit at writing angst but am incapable of writing anything else
“you don’t like me very much, do you?”
alhaitham pauses, in the middle of shelving the stack of books in his arms. he doesn’t look down, but he can see you blinking curiously up at him in his peripheral.
he’s relieved that he’s at the very top of the ladder, so you don’t notice the way his fingers tighten around the spine of the book and how he has to shift his weight so he doesn’t lose his balance. when he opens his mouth to respond, he draws in a shaky breath.
“i have no reason to like or dislike you,” he responds curtly. “so long as you do your job properly.”
that’s right, he has no need for such useless sentiments; he’s a man of science after all. flowery language and cursory emotions are a waste of energy and all detract from his ultimate goal of pursuing concrete, infallible knowledge.
so he steadies himself and climbs down the ladder, ignoring how tightly his heart constricts when he sees you smile.
it’s just an organ.
“i guess i walked right into that one,” you grin before nodding towards the stack of books in his arms. “need help with those?”
“no,” he simply says, pulling the ladder to the other side of the shelf. with his back turned to you, he’s much more at ease. if he can’t see you, then he can’t find another attribute of yours to commit to memory.
you don’t listen, though, because you never do. instead, you snatch the books from him and climb the ladder yourself before he can react.
“what are you doing?” he furrows his brows.
“trying to get on your good side,” you hum.
“is this why you’ve been following me around all day?” he sighs.
you wince sheepishly. “was it that obvious? i thought i was being pretty subtle.”
alhaitham, with traitorous eyes trained to notice and analyze every little detail, follows the movement as if it had a magnetic pull, dragging his gaze across your features. he drinks in the color of your eyes, the slope of your nose, the flutter of your eyelashes, the glow of your skin, and the tinted sheen on your lips like he were studying a textbook on astrophysics.
but it would be amiss to compare you to any branch of science, he supposes. sciences produces results, logic, and answers.
you are loud and obnoxious, ironic for someone who works in a library. you are a hindrance more than help to most of the daily tasks, cutting down productivity by at least fifty percent with your chattering and penchant for distraction. you are person with a naturally alluring disposition that draws people in. you are able to speak to patrons of the library with a charm that seems mystical to him. you are a warmth that only exists in the confines of fantasy. you are everything he finds to be a waste of time in a person, and you are everything that he is not.
you are the only anomaly he can’t solve.
“you are many things, but subtle is not one of them.”
that makes you laugh, and the ladder, as old and rickety as it is, trembles just like the stupid organ that is his heart. as if it were a reflex, alhaitham reaches out his hand and steadies the ladder.
it’s a pointless gesture, really. him holding the ladder still doesn’t eliminate the risk of you falling. yet, he grips the wooden material so tightly that his knuckles turn white.
“is it so wrong of me to want to be friends with my new boyfriend’s roommate and also my co-worker for way longer than that?” you whine.
what ridiculous titles, he thinks to himself. he and you can barely even be regarded as acquaintances, but you’ve somehow found a way to establish a connection. alhaitham doesn’t even want to be acquaintances with you, most certainly not friends.
he despises that you are almost nothing to him. why couldn’t you be something or just nothing? you’re almost. almost something and almost nothing all at the same time. that gray area makes him feel, feel, feel—that damn word—like he isn’t in control; it’s an ugly, dark sensation that coils in the pit of his stomach like a venomous snake.
“i don’t want to be friends with you,” he chokes out, a desperate tinge to his voice that he hopes you don’t notice.
“well, i’m a lot more stubborn than you think, so just you wait,” you reply in a teasing manner.
a muscle in his jaw spasms just as someone calls out your name, sparing him from having to respond.
alhaitham watches as your face, the one he’s been enraptured with since the moment he’s laid eyes on you, lights up with an expression that he will never be able to bring out of you.
you hurriedly climb down the ladder, your conversation with him long forgotten, and he doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is.
“kaveh!”
logically, it makes sense that you ended up with kaveh. he leads with his heart instead of his head, he lets his personal attachments get in the way of rationality, and he’s a person that will consider your feelings first and foremost. and above all, he has the capacity to love you.
love, a mere chemical defect of the brain. love, needless self-sacrifice for a temporary high. love, a concept that alhaitham will never understand.
the way you smooth out the non-existent wrinkles in your shirt,
the way you aimlessly fidget with your fingers and bounce on the balls of your feet,
the way you drink the can of black coffee he hands you even though you dump at least five spoonfuls of sugar in your normal cup,
the way you suck on your bottom lip to hide the bitterness and smear away the lip gloss you put on especially for him,
the way your breath hitches when he laces your fingers through his and brings your knuckles to his lips,
the way you look at kaveh just like how alhaitham looks at you.
“you don’t like me very much, do you?”
no, he doesn’t.
#genshin scenarios#genshin imagines#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham angst#alhaitham scenarios#alhaitham imagines#alhaitham drabble#genshin angst#genshin alhaitham#genshin fanfic#alhaitham#drabble#genshin impact#matchabears
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SPLIT ENDS ┊ BAKUGO KATSUKI
tags: GN reader, soulmate au (bonded by a thread), love as a choice, hurt and comfort, reader implied to be a hero, friends to lovers, hopeful ending
wc: 1k+
Phantom now, where it lies dormant behind your ribs; you remember the feeling so clearly. You often wondered if Katsuki had endured just as much as you did that day, and every day since. Chest cavity hollowed out, leaving an intangible echo of what might’ve been.
There was never any indication of regret in his behaviour — in fact, his shoulders had been undeniably relaxed, as if a burdensome weight had been lifted. He returned to the dorms the weekend after his eighteenth birthday, hands deep in his pockets, wearing a signature scowl that you all knew was for show, and mentioned it offhandedly as though he’d gotten a haircut.
Claiming that fate shouldn’t have a hand in his decisions, Katsuki had severed your soulmate bond, blissfully unaware that his thread ever led to you.
The reactions varied. Astonished, sad— furious, some of them, on his soulmate's behalf. Your lack thereof earned a few curious stares, but there was nothing left for you to say.
You learned to live with it.
Fraught anger preceded the pain. In those final months at UA, avoiding your best friend became second nature. You couldn’t meet his prying eyes without feeling a pang of betrayal, but you were honest enough to admit that it helped to watch him fret. To have him chase you a little, despite what he’d done.
When grief arrived it came like an old friend. You would sob, rub at the cold spot at the back of your neck and hope the friction would create a spark. There was guilt, too. Katsuki wasn’t dead, and yet you were curled up in your bedsheets, mourning the pages of a book you would never get to read. You would touch him sometimes, with one hand and the other; like your fingers might meet his flesh and the split ends of your souls would naturally coil together. At best, you received a quiet grunt and a scathing look.
The science behind soulmates has never been exact. A rare phenomenon that seldom could be measured. Much like anything to do with the human spirit, it was an innate feeling, beginning with a knot at the top of your spine that grew and grew. Loop, through, pull.
It made sense, you think, that Katsuki would not want a part of his life handed to him on a silver platter. Soulmates had been peddled to the masses as a glorified fairytale for centuries. The fated love at first sight. Your souls would meet again with a heart-stirring click. With how little is known, you supposed it was easy to convince people that was true.
But that never happened for you. Amidst the adrenaline of the entrance exam, Katsuki had flown through a narrow alley, body tensed to withstand the recoil, outstretched his arms and directed a precise explosion at one of the towering robots. Everything fell away for one, fleeting moment as you watched it collapse into itself. And in your wonderment, Katsuki, with his unshakeable hubris, had snarled at your inaction.
“What the fuck are you waitin’ around for? Guess they just let any loser take this exam, huh”.
No fireworks, no miraculous click, no rain soaked embrace. Your first interaction with him left you disgruntled. That day, you carried your wounded pride home with a fire in your belly, determined to prove yourself capable, and you’d been so fixated on having him eat his words that the niggling in your nape had been inconsequential.
In hindsight, the sudden insatiable need to show your worth to a complete stranger should have been an obvious sign. You always looked for one another in a crowd, seeking the other’s approval. Through trial and tribulation you grew closer, forged an infallible friendship, and suddenly Katsuki was always in your orbit.
You’re not sure that telling him would have changed anything. Deep down, you knew he wouldn’t have accepted it. Soulmates are a liability, a weakness for villains to exploit, and Katsuki was whole on his own, he declared. You couldn’t disagree, nor could you put it into words.
Katsuki would always be Katsuki. With or without you.
Thus, you let things be. Graduated UA straight into a cushy sidekick job at Fatgum’s agency and rented an apartment within a ten minute walk. Shared your first kiss, had your first fuck, cried when your heart was broken for a second time. A third. A fourth. He held you through the night after you lost your first civilian, and the searing impression of his lips had lingered like a brand on your temple for weeks. Katsuki’s arms were always open, a place you could come home to and revel in the rightness of it.
The severance still hurt to think about. There were days in which it ached, like an old broken bone that hadn’t set quite right. On others you were a frayed nerve, tender to touch and quick to anger. Having to cohabitate with perennial heartbreak wasn’t the most comfortable of circumstances, but things were good. You were content.
The true paradigm shift came abruptly, and with a box of pancakes.
Fluffy, golden brown and stacked evenly. Katsuki rarely deviated from routine — meal plan included. Your gaze was drawn to the sound of cardboard sliding across your desk, food pushed carefully toward you by a gloved hand. Katsuki’s cheeks and ears had matched the fleshy pink of the strawberries, and you distinctly recall the colour slipping from your mouth.
“You’ve been weird lately, so,” he huffed, shifting his weight between each foot and tucking his chin to his chest in such a way that his glare lost all impact. “Don’t fuckin’ mention it. Not a word”.
You realise then, that soulmate bond or not, you had fallen in love with him. That Katsuki hadn’t stolen anything from you. Rather, he had driven off road and tossed you the keys. Hands off the wheel, speeding down the winding highway, exhilaration taking space from the air in your lungs. No direction, no route set in stone. Free to go wherever you pleased.
“What the fuck are you laughing at?” he asked, his hackles raised as he reached out, flicking your forehead. Shoulders shaking and tears lining your lashes, you resolved to stand strong at his side.
To prove him wrong, and to choose him, again and again.
#bnha x reader#bakugo x reader#written as a warm up and idk if it’s any good but#might aswell post it
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another thing about reddit is theyre obsessed with CICO (calories in calories out) as an infallible dogma. because they are also obsessed with weight as a signifier of health. "eat less move more" they say. and when someone is not seeing results they say "well you must be eating too much or not moving enough." And this obsession is completely impenetrable. If you say "weight loss is more complicated" "caloric intake isn't the only measure of healthy eating" you will be downvoted to hell because clearly you're just a jealous fatty I mean denying the 'real science.' Reddit's culture around weight is a magnified version of our culture's as a whole and it's so incredibly exhausting.
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simpatico for 1. accidental hand touching
this took way longer to write than it should of. everyone thank @honkytonka for doing the minimal magnet research for me.
AO3 Link
It was an accident.
A complete and utter accident.
An accident that really could’ve happened to anyone. Like accidents did. Just because Brainstorm had made a slight, inconsequential mistake, didn’t mean others weren’t just as infallible- neigh, more infallible than him. Certainly Perceptor was just as prone to error, if not more so than himself and-
“Brainstorm.”
The jet winced, internal monologue coming to a screeching halt. While Perceptor’s tone was as even and neutral as ever, Brainstorm could easily pick out the edge of annoyance in his field. Especially with their…intimate proximity.
Rather than make his panic known, Brainstorm answered with casual, easy nonchalance. Cooly. Sauve.
“Um, yeah, Perceptor?”
His fellow scientist did not seem amused by his flippancy as Perceptor let out a tired, bordering-on-frustrated exvent. Brainstorm was quick to attempt to diffuse what would inevitably be Perceptor’s typical brand of disappointment.
“I can fix this! Just give me time!” Brainstorm yelped, raising both his servos to placate the growing agitating circling around his lab partner. It was, perhaps, the wrong move as it only highlighted their problem: Perceptor’s left hand tugged along Brainstorm’s right due to the high magnetic current locking them together. “Oops.”
Perceptor, with his free, unmagnetized hand, scrubbed his face, softening his groan of dismay.
But really, this was not Brainstorm’s fault.
The ferro-ray gun was supposed to change the magnetic field of two objects within range- shifting the polarities until the two objects have reversed yet strongly attracted polarity. While not a particularly damage-focused weapon, the possible utility and scenarios for such a device could be used were endless.
Once the thought had come to Brainstorm, he had pushed aside all his other projects and had begun a mock-up design. In truth, it was still in its design/construction phase. The main body of the gun was still in pieces on his workbench and he hadn’t even begun working on the trigger or firing channel. He had still been playing around with the energy core that was to power the magnetic charges. With a high enough current, he hoped to safely aim and select said object and shift its magnetic force. It was a finicky little thing but Brainstorm had thought he had control over the energy core.
Evidentially, it was a tad more…volatile than he expected.
“You will be able to undo this?” There was a slight tinge of worry in Perceptor’s tone. Perceptor’s plating was warm against his own. Brainstorm tried not to focus on it, tried to ignore the persistent thrum of current connecting them.
“Don’t worry, Percy. You’ll be rid of me eventually,” Brainstorm teased.
If he couldn’t reverse the effects of the gun, a quick trip to the medbay would solve it. It would certainly be the messier of the two options and he much rather fix his mistake in-house. He didn’t want another lecture from Ratchet about lab safety nor did he relish the eventual hand-off to Ultra Magnus about Code of Ethics and Proper Use of Lab Equipment. Not to mention that the plating around his servo would definitely need to be removed in order to detach them.
“Being rid of you is not my concern,” Perceptor ground out through clenched denta.
Brainstorm’s wings hitched at the implication and a small smile flew to his lips. “Oh Percy, while normally flattery would work quite well on me, science is not quite so easy to please.”
Perceptor’s snorting exvent held enough amusement for Brainstorm to count this interaction as a success. “Normally, I would agree, but you have a unique way of twisting the laws of science and logic to your whims.”
Brainstorm felt his spark soar. Breaking the laws of physics and hearing Perceptor’s praise of it was the highest compliment Brainstorm could ever receive.
“It’s my raw magnetism, no one can resist me.” Silence met his wording and Brainstorm peeked over to see Perceptor’s face was in his hand once more. “Ahh, too soon?”
“Perhaps,” Perceptor muttered into his palm. “Maybe try it again in a few breems after we get unstuck. Let me see your calculations and how your horribly brilliant mind broke every equation known to man.”
Even in his annoyance, Perceptor truly did say the sweetest things.
“Don’t worry, Perceptor. This time I only broke half.”
Brainstorm slid over the bar napkin from Swerve’s, his messy scrawl only slightly smudged. Perceptor didn’t even bat an optic. He’d seen Brainstorm use far less conventional notetaking instruments. “Oh, lucky us.”
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One of my most favorite books of all time is the original Jurassic Park. It's one of the few books that has actively terrified and thrilled me while I was reading it. I've read this book more times than I can count.
Michael Crichton (who died in 2008) wrote many books critiquing what he saw as flaws in the commercialization of science and the dangers that come when we step forward without understanding what we are doing. I've read many of his books, from The Andromeda Strain (1969) to Prey (2002). Some of those books are better than others, and some are quite frankly terrible - Prey is awful, never read it. Personally, I think Andromeda Strain and Jurassic Park are his best works.
But for all the good books he wrote, he also became convinced of his own infallibility as he aged - ironically falling prey to the main character flaw he wrote into many of his villains. One of the last books he wrote was State of Fear (2004), and anti-global-warming book. It... wasn't very good, for a multitude of reasons, the biggest of course being that the science in it was wrong, which is quite a sad place to end a career for an author known in popular culture for being scientifically accurate in his prior works.
I haven't read Jurassic Park in a few years, and in those years, I got a Master's degree and became far more literate and aware of the world of scientific research. I'm reading the introduction, and finding his rose-tinted opinions about "scientists from the past" to be, well, laughable.
"Scientists ignored borders! They shared all their knowledge!" No they didn't. Science, I am sad to inform you, has always had a cutthroat side to it. That's not to say all scientists are trying to hoard their knowledge - they're not! But I am saying there's actually quite a lot of debate among scientists about intellectual property, copyright, and international cooperation. Some scientists genuinely do want to reach across borders but literally cannot do so, or they would never receive funding. Scientists steal from each other all the time (in the world of science it's called "scooping"), which can be devastating, so there are certain projects scientists will keep hush hush until the paper finally comes out. And yes, I'm writing this in 2024 - but the world of science was not that different in 1990, when Crichton wrote Jurassic Park.
It's just interesting to read a book written by a non-scientist, who I always assumed knew what he was talking about, now that I myself am a scientist.
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I’m still trying to get over how hilarious it is that Jillian’s response to her son hearing voices was to go “sounds legit” and to listen to them and build the thing her son was having visions of. Like Micheal talks about how they were swept up in things they didn’t understand, but Jillian still chose to make that thing. Her desperation and determination was all her own. She didn’t have to take her son seriously, but she did, bc she loves him. She’s not even certain where it goes but she’s willing to stick her whole arm in it because she has faith. The woman of science tenderly asking her son “have you talked to the angels today?” Who believes science and faith can coexist because she and her son are proof of it, but none of it goes the way she expected. The son she did everything to give life to being determined to die, in the end, because he’s been convinced by a being that’s basically god that it’s the right thing to do, a god who is not infallible, because the plan doesn’t even work. The contradictions that are an inherent part of her being. She’s such a character
#warrior nun#jillian salvius#wn spoilers#warrior nun spoilers#sorry for the ramble#Jillian unexpectedly became one of my favourite characters when I wasn’t looking
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"Guy whos convinced hes the right person to lead a socialist utopia when he cant handle someone disagreeing with him about interpretations of a childrens cartoon that he assigns moral weight to" is the alarmingly large demographic that turned me off of the vast majority of online leftist spaces to be rather cynically honest about it
That and the person who deadass told me, someone with an ivy league political science degree with academic distinction, that i obviously didnt read enough theory when i pointed out that political theory doesnt do anything but gather dust on your bookshelf without hands on application. That person was the final nail in the exhausting and pointlessly hostile coffin for me
I hate to break this to you guys but if you cant even handle different opinions on your own side, you arent fit to lead any society that isnt a dictatorship. Thinking you can organically convince every human being on earth of your specific ideology is either incredibly naive or incredibly disingenuous; that only happens by force, and that would make you a dictator.
And no, asking hard and potentially worldview-shifting questions of your own ideology and political leanings is not a form of betrayal towards it, that's what you're supposed to do. That worldview is shallow and fragile and easily broken and defeated if you pretend it's perfect and infallible, which is also an arrogance and egoism that makes you unfit for any form of political office.
And if you're afraid to ask those questions for fear of the resulting backlash if you come to a conclusion that differs in any way from the group you're currently in, that's a sign that something is deeply wrong with that group no matter what they claim their ideology is
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