Category: Uncategorized

#5yrsago HOWTO build a working digital computer out of paperclips (and stuff)

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mostlysignssomeportents:

Windell at Evil Mad Scientist Labs has dredged up an amazing project book from the Internet Archive: How to Build a Working Digital Computer (1967)
 (by Edward Alcosser, James P. Phillips, and Allen M. Wolk) contains a
full set of instructions for building a working computer out of
paperclips and various bits and bobs from the local hardware store. You
can even use paperclips for switches (though, as Windell notes, “Arrays
of paperclip logic gates can get pretty big, pretty fast.”)

https://boingboing.net/2013/05/08/howto-build-a-working-digital.html

obsidian-hexes:

theinkstainsblog:

imsosorryabouthis:

not-corey-cullen:

the-fandom-cat:

theinkstainsblog:

tygerofaera:

freckledfem:

i will literally give $1000 to anyone who can tell me why trans women are real women without saying “because they said so”

ALL Women ARE Women.

Read the National Geographic special issue on Gender. There’s whole articles on this with the sources and everything included in there but I’ll sum up for you: 

People (by which I mean actual scientists who are qualified to do this) did studies on how people’s brains are formed/shaped. Male and female brains show various slight differences. They are distinguishable. 

Now here’s where it gets interesting. They looked at scans of transgender people’s brains. What do you think they found? 

They found that their brains most closely followed the patterns of the gender that they said they were rather than the gender they were assigned.  

Get that? 

So if a woman was assigned male at birth because she had a penis and they scanned her brain, they found her to have the brain shape expected in a woman. It wasn’t exactly the same but it was clearly much closer to female than to male. 

Once those people started hormone therapy and everything, the brain shape grew even closer to the gender they said they were (the gender that they ARE) until it was pretty much identical. You couldn’t tell the difference except yep, that’s a female brain now regardless of whether she was assigned male at birth. 

It is thought to be this that causes dysphoria in the transgender people who suffer it: since their brain is a female brain (or vice versa) making them female it causes a disconnect between that and what their eyes see when they look at their body. 

So there ya are. Science proves transgender people are the damn gender they say they are. 

Can I have my $1000 dollars now or do you wanna pay it to the National Geographic so they can keep up this education, I don’t mind which?

Give this person their $1000

Pay up

What are their chromosomes though you said their brains patterns aren’t exactly the same but their more close than what they actually are that doesn’t mean that they are the other thing if their chromosomes are x&y then they are not a woman

Ahem: 

To this I refer you to a different idea raised in the same National Geographic Article. This post explains it very well.

Since you’re bringing up chromosomes I’m sure you know that we think of XX as female and XY as male. 

Well, it’s possible to be born with XY chromosomes but because your body isn’t reacting in the traditional way to androgens, you present as female at birth. “Male” chromosomes, “female” body + whatever gender they damn well choose. 

It is possible to have an X and a Y chromosome but for your body to be missing the SRY gene and so you present as female at birth. “Male” chromosomes, “female” body + whatever gender they damn well choose. 

Some people may present as male because they have an X and a Y chromosome but also an extra X chromosome. But they may identify as female or even a different gender.

You may present as female because you only have one X chromosome.  But you may identify as male or even a different gender.

Note: I’ve put some of these in quotation marks because a transgender woman’s body is still a woman’s body even if she has not undergone transition and vice versa.

So I say it again since you didn’t hear me the first time: Science proves that transgender people are the damn gender they say they are.

And this shows that so are non-binary people / agender people / demi girls and demi boys and ALL gender identities. Biology dictates who they are and so does their mind. They are who they say they are.

I love how succinct and well thought out this was!! especially that last part since transphobes always try to use the X and Y chromosome argument when they want to defend binary notions of gender – when in reality science itself proves that “biological sex” is more complicated than male/ female and thereby proving that terfs don’t know shit and are just using bad science to defend their shitty views

Hey, World … Psst … Look over here —

Uncategorized

politicalprof:

“The Art of the Deal,” Trump’s “great” book, was ghost written. The guy who wrote it, Tony Schwartz, says that if he wrote it today he’d call it “The Sociopath.”

Donald Trump doesn’t know how to negotiate. He doesn’t know how to build a relationship … or maintain one. All he knows is that at some exact second in time, he wants something, and says so.

Enjoy plucking America’s mortal remains. Because we are led by the living embodiment of the Dunning-Kruger Effect.

Trump pulls U.S. out of Iran nuclear deal

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mostlysignssomeportents:

“I am announcing that the United States will withdraw from the Iran
nuclear deal,” President Donald Trump announced to a room of reporters
at the White House today.

”America will not be held hostage by nuclear blackmail,” he said.

The President announced that under Secretary of State  Mike Pompeo
today, the U.S. will be “reinstating nuclear sanctions,” at “the highest
level of economic sanction.”

Trump said other nations that help Iran in its nuclear pursuits will be punished.

How will this make America safer, a reporter asked when the conference ended.

“This will make America safer,” replied a sedated-sounding President.

Asked by multiple reporters in the room for an update on the Americans
held hostage in North Korea, Trump replied, “We’ll soon be finding out.”

https://boingboing.net/2018/05/08/trump-pulls-out-of-iran.html

A tradition

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rebelmeg:

wakor-rising:

sonatagreen:

In peacetime, the ruler grows their hair long. In war, they cut it short.

A ruler with long hair is held in great esteem, for defending the peace.

The traditional declaration of war is for the ruler to send their cut-off hair to the enemy ruler. The statement carries greater weight the longer the hair: to receive long hair says that you have angered one who is slow to anger, that you have incurred a wrath not easily woken.

Violent war-mongering leader frantically and aggressively tries to shave just a LITTLE hair off the top of their head into an envelope.

A faraway king receives a heavy wooden crate filled with a coil of the longest hair he has ever seen.

A despised ruler finds hundreds of pounds of cut-off ponytails at her castle entrance, each one belonging to her own people. 

A young emperor refuses to cut their hair and insists on trying to make peace with invaders. The enemy leader steps forward, draws their blade, and cuts the emperor’s hair themselves.

Hellen cuts her hair off and throws it in Cathy’s face at her son’s soccer scrimmage. 

The princess was exactly six and a half years old on the day her father cut his hair.

All of her life, her father had had the most beautiful, long, long braid of red-gold hair that shone like a sunset under his golden crown. She had often fondly tugged it when she came up behind him, drawing his attention and a wide smile when he reached down to pull his daughter up into his arms.

The day he cut his hair, everyone cried. A set of shears, made of dark metal and shining viciously sharp in the throne room, cut through that beautiful braid like it was nothing but water.

When the braid fell to the floor in a red-gold coil, the princess couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down her face. No one in the room seemed to be able to maintain their composure, and her mother in particular was sobbing into handkerchief when the braid was loaded reverently into a finely crafted wooden box.

It wasn’t until she was much older that the princess realized everyone wasn’t crying because her father no longer had his beautiful hair.

They were crying because their country, that had for so long lived in peace, was now at war.

AT&T to the Supreme Court: “Fuck the FTC”

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mostlysignssomeportents:

Back when the anti-Net-Neutrality was pretending to have anything like
an argument (apart from, “NETWORK NEUTRALITY INTERFERES WITH MY ABILITY
TO BECOME LIMITLESSLY RICH, GO FUCK YOURSELF), one of the stupid pieces
of spaghetti they threw at the wall was, “The FCC shouldn’t regulate
telcos, that’s the FTC’s job.”

It was a very stupid argument.

It just got stupider.

AT&T has just asked the Supreme Court to hear an appeal over the
FTC’s ability to punish AT&T for false advertising (AT&T
promised “unlimited wireless data” but after its customers blew through
its laughably stingy data-caps, the “unlimited” plan throttled them to
acoustic-couple-style dialup speeds until the next billing period
started). In AT&T’s view, the FTC has no authority to regulate
telcos, because, uh, well, because if they can’t regulate telcos then
AT&T is off the hook for having defrauded America.

https://boingboing.net/2018/05/07/thats-no-moon-2.html

Who here is surprised?

Arwen Shenanigans: The Sorcerer’s Apprentice

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gallusrostromegalus:

So I was just home for a bit to visit my parents/help them move a bunch of stuff into storage while they finally Install AC into thier house, which means I got to see Arwen, and Arwen got to see my dog, Charleston Chew.

Arwen is a Husky/Kelpie mix that was trained in prison as an Autism Service Dog and when she’s not wroking she gets up to All Kinds Of Bullshit. She’s eight years old now and still a little asshole, but beginning to slow down, and as such has decided to take Charlie on as an Apprentice Asshole.

[Image Description: Two dogs on leashes standing on a boardwalk with thier butts toward the photographer, who is holding the leashes with one hand and taking the picture with the other, like a moron.  Arwen, the dog on the left, Is fat and very fluffy, and looking for rabbits to eat.  Charlie, the dog on the right is skinny with noth much hair, and also looking for a bunny dinner.  They are both a simmilar black-and-tan pattern that makes people ask if they’re rottweilers or dobermans, despite being neither.

This picture is taken about 2.68 seconds before the dogs locate a bunny and pull the photographer of thier feet as they launch themselves after it like short, hairy rockets.  The Photographer suffers minor injuries, and the rabbit is unharmed.]

Some of the nonsense Arwen taught Charlie this time around:

  • Arwen recognizes herself in mirrors, and likes to check her own ass out in the full-length mirror in my parent’s bathroom.  Charlie has, after a year and a half of glaring suspiciously at the glass door of my oven, figured out that there is not another dog in there, but hadn’t quite grokked that it’s HIS reflection.  
    I came upstairs a few times to find them sitting in front of the mirror, where Arwen would carefully paw at the glass a few times until Charlie did the same, then, when he was watching the reflections, bop him on the nose.  The last day we were there, Charlie was sitting in front of the mirror, bopping it, then, with the most intense look of concentration I’ve ever seen, carefully pawed his own face.
  • Back in March, my parents took Arwen down to the lake and to the end of the boat dock to watch the sunset because it was warm enough to do that, but Dogs can’t see enough colors to really appreciate sunsets, so Arwen was  looking into the water instead and there happened to be some carp hanging out around the dock and to quote my mother:
    “I knew the exact second she spotted them because it’s the same face she makes when she realizes you have a treat for her.  Thank goodness i let go of the leash in time.”
    Arwen is sometimes affectionately called “Short Bear” for her wierd style of climbing trees, but given the way she forcibly launched herself into the water and stayed under for a good minute before tirumphantly re-surfacing with a carp in her mouth and a gleeful expression of “HOLY SHIT THE LAKE IS FULL OF SNACKS!!” we’re probably going to have to add ‘seal’ to the list of probable creature’s she’s related to.
  • What this translated to in the most recent visit is that she’s now team-fishing with Charlie.  Charlie is from Arizona and is extremely distrustful of any body of water deeper thhan his ankles but he’s a good sprinter and was taught how to hunt by cats so he pounces on things.
    So we go down to the off-leash section of the lake with is a sort of small inlet with a short-but-steep cliff around the beach and a set of gated stairs. Arwen jumps from the stairs to the top of the cliff, then walks out until she’s at the mouth of the inlet, while charlie stands at the shore, complaining about this bullshit plan.  
    When she gets to the mouth of the inlet, she belly-flops in, taking a sandy section of cliff in with her, then dives and swims as fast as she can towards the shore.  This flushed all the fish that had been sunning themselves in the inlet towards the shallow water at the shore, whereupon Charlie takes an spectacular leap and pounces on another carp, trying to grapple it with his paws until Arwen got there to actually bite the thing.
    This also resulted in me, a dumbass human shrieking “NO DAMMIT, DON’T EAT FUCKING CARP IT’S GARBAGE FISH” and running out into the lake to seperate them from the fish, which meant pulling it out of Arwen’s mouth and throwing it back into the lake-
    -Almost hitting my poor neighbor Dottie as her grandchildren paddle her by in the canoe.  This woman hates me, and rightly so.
  • When we got her, the adoption agency warned us that Arwen was “Chatty” which is a polite way of saying “This dog likes to yell a lot, especially if the humans are also being loud”.  It took a while, but Mom eventually trained Arwen to stop yelling by bending over so Arwen makes eye contact, holding a finger up to her mouth and going “SHHhhhh…” which is her signal to take it downa  few notches.  Sometimes dogs need you to be quiet to realize they should be quiet.
    So Arwen’s at Youth Correctioanl Serivces, doing therapy work with one of the Kids there, and he’s having a bad day and yelling angrily about absolutely everything.  Being upset is ok, and expressing emotions is OK but rasing your voice and swearing isn’t an effective means of communication so the therapist is trying to get him to slow down.  The Kid doesn’t want to listen to him, and keeps yelling, so Arwen jumps up to stand in his lap and put her face in his and exhales very loudly, which makes a sort of “ HHHHHHhhhh..!” sound.
    Kid stops, confused, and Arwen gives him a kiss for it.  They repeat this a few more times in the session, where Kid starts raising his voice and Arwen goes “HHHHHHhhhh!” at him until he slows down and lowers his voice again.
    “What is she doin’?” he eventually asks, becuase this is new behavior.
    “OH.” Mom goes, suddenly realizing.  She explain’s Arwen’s SHH! command “-since her mouth won’t make a shush sound, she’s trying her best.”
    “You Shushin’ me dog? You shushin’ Me!?”  He asks her.
    Arwen: WAAAAAARRR-!
    Kid: SHH!
    Arwen: HHHH!
    Kid: “… Alright.”
  • When I leash up the dogs for a walk, they have to be sitting and quiet or I won’t leash them to go outside.  Arwen has got this down, but Charlie’s still working on it, and managed to Sit, but was yelling in excitement.
    Charlie: AAAA!  AAAYAAAA!  AAAA!!
    Arwen, kicking him in the face so he’ll look at her: HHHHHH!
    Charlie: “..?”
    She proceded to do this Every. Single. Time. charlie made noise in her vicinity because even though he’s her favorite dog, she’s also still a shithead that likes to boss him around and play games like “I’m gonna sit right next to the toy basket but not actually look at it and mock-charge charlie every time he tries to get a toy, ebcuase making him sneak up on me is HILARIOUS.” so he eventually gets the idea that “HHH!”  means “SHUT UP!”
    …We get home to Durango and My Fiance is playing games online with headphones and getting excited and yelling, so Charlie jumps on the couch, paws him in the face and goes “HHHH!  HHHH!” and I fall out of my chair laughing.
  • We’re walking on one of the trails and there’s a super-family of geese, where six adults have shoved thier broods into one large horde of fluff that’s easier to herd and protect as a group.  Charlie is already backing up at the preliminary warning honks, becuase he knows from cats and that things that puff up and hiss at you also tend to be Sharp And Mean, but Arwen looks at this as decides that this is really Six Entrees and roughly 20 desserts, and I have half a second to lock her leash before she completely launches herself mouth-first at Goose Dinner. 

    The geese, Unfortunately, falter in thier defense and minutely shuffle away from her.

    I have the dogs on harnesses for long hikes, and manage to haul her back, as the dogs share the following telepathic conversation:
    Charlie: They…Scatter? Not sharp? Maybe.. Eatable?
    Arwen: TOTALLY EATABLE.
    Charlie: HOLY SHIT! EATABLE!
    Arwen: HELL YEAH!!!
    Geese: Aw piss, they smell fear, we gotta fuck them up now.

    So I ended up slogging up the trail, holding a 55-lb dog in each ahnd  by the harness, trying to keep them from gobbling up goslings while no less than six geese tried to beat the shit out of me because I am Tallest, even though I’m the only one not trying to eat thier children.  It looked very dramatic from my perspective- time slows down during adrenaline rushes and it’s all rain and mud and feathers and dog teeth and the horrible grooved tonges geese have and eventually one of them bites the shit outta my eyebrow and we go full art-film as the blood gets in my eyes and I’m left literally seeing red. Alfred Hitchcock is doing dramatic lighting from beyond the grave. O Fortuna is playing.

    A quarter mile later we’re finally far enough away that the geese feel like they can retreat, and there are no casualties except me.  I get home and my dad thinks I’ve been jumped until he sees the goose shit in my hair. 

    The dogs are extremely gleeful about the whole thing and Charlie keeps checking the river out here for geese.

  • She also tried to teach him to flush the toilet for fresh running water but I caught them before that lesson could be imparted.  

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