sockknitteranon:

transexualizer:

slashmarks:

there’s a big difference between “food waste” as in “farmers destroy tons of food to avoid exceeding quotas” or “supermarkets throw away this much edible food because it doesn’t sell”

and “food waste” as in “it is not actually within the capacity of humans to perfectly predict and track household food consumption, so a certain amount of food per household inevitably goes bad and has to be thrown out every year”

the idea that food waste is the product of thoughtless consumers rather than corporate greed is really insidious

Could someone with more spoons than I have talk about how especially nefarious it is when you throw disability into the mix?

Ex the (multiple) times I’ve been too sick to cook for two weeks in a row and had to throw out the entire contents of my refrigerator, and how people who know me (but somehow never offer to make me food) scream bloody murder about it.

aoirob:

gallusrostromegalus:

excessively-english-little-b:

penfairy:

penfairy:

I visited the museum and I heard two bros in the dinosaur exhibit having an earnest discussion about the best way to kill a T-Rex with a sword and what kind of armour should be worn into the battle and they spoke with such passion I really wish the scientific community could have heard them. I’d love to know how palaeontologists would weigh in on The Great Debate.

For instance, was the bro in the weed shorts right? Is it pointless to wear heavy armour when battling a T-Rex? Is it truly better to go into battle naked wielding dual swords? Or was the bro in the backwards cap correct? Should you go for a double-handed sword and iron armour? Will light bouncing off the armour really confuse and blind the beast? Realistically, what protection is armour against a dinosaur? Was Weed Shorts right when he proposed to use his superior agility to slash its tendons and stab the eyes when he brought it down? Or was Backwards Cap right when he said charge and slash open its soft belly?? What is the truth??!??

Hello, palaeontologist-in-training here! Thought I’d have a little think into this because hey, who wants to do coursework on trilobites when you could be considering T. rex instead?

• Light and maneuverable is probably best when facing a rex. It’s big and it’s powerful but it’s not going to making any quick sharp turns any time soon.
• According to our current estimates, a T. rex would be able to crush a small car with its jaws, so realistically, no amount of armour is gonna protect you if it grabs you.
• If the T. rex manages to grab you you’re dead regardless. It could probably eat you within a couple of bites if it was trying.

Figures 1 & 2: Theoretical T. rex bite-force model fucking up a mini. Thank you, Bill Oddie and BBC’s The Truth About Killer Dinosaurs.

As far as armour goes, lighter is better, and at the end of the day isn’t going to mean shit anyway. T. rex can’t slash at you with claws, so it’s bite or bust, and if it bites YOU’RE bust. So, lets say a point to Weed Shorts. Why NOT fight a T. rex butt naked with swords.

• T. rex had good binocular vision. Don’t believe Jurassic Park’s lies –T. rex was a hunter and could probably see you brilliantly whether you moved or not.
• That said, a T. rex’s eyesight will work about the same as modern birds of prey. Think hawk, or eagle. I reckon light bouncing off anything would be a fairly minor hindrance, or at least, wouldn’t affect it any more than any other hunting bird.

So, using light to blind and confuse the rex? May potentially work but might be hard and wouldn’t do much for long. Don’t rely on this for strategy.

• T. rex actually had gastralia, sometimes called ‘belly-ribs’. These protected and supported the internal organs.There would also be some seriously thick abdominal muscles to get through.
• Unless you’re planning to do some precision stabbing with a very long sword, chances are you’re not gonna be killing a rex by slicing open it’s stomach. Also, being under its stomach is gonna put you in-reach of the Jaws Of Death.
• I’m not sure how easy it would be, or how well it would work, to try and cut a T. rex’s tendons. Theoretically, sounds like it should work. However, you’re gonna need a lot of strength to get through them, probably.
• I’d personally cut the throat rather than stab through the eyes once the rex is down, but that’s probably personal preference. Once you’ve felled it, it’s dead either way! A T. rex unable to hunt is a dead T. rex.

Figure 3: The gastralia of a T. rex. Bless u Scott Hartman for your skeletal references.

As far as attack goes, the belly is not as weak a spot as it seems. So, point to Weed Shorts on his execution plan. Sounds pretty solid.

Overall, I’d say that Weed Shorts had the best plan to defeat the mighty Tyrannosaurus rex. If you ever see him again, congratulate him on his solid plan of attack.

My favorite thing about paleontologists (and any scientist really, but paleontologists in particular) is that you can ask them COMPLETELY BATSHIT INSANE questions and by God, they will give you a completely Serious answer.

Also @assassinahsoka this reminds me of your guy who wanted to eat a t rex.

@unerringherring

sssibilance:

I am not confined to my wheelchair. More than half of wheelchair workers can stand and walk at least a little. Quit harassing us when we do. But even for those who can’t stand at all, a wheelchair is not a metal cage or medieval torture rack. It’s a custom medical device that frees us, that allows us to live fuller lives.

I had to fundraise for my wheelchair because my insurance didn’t cover durable medical. While I waited to get a wheelchair, that’s when I was confined. People had to come to me. The only place I could go was the grocery store, because they had scooters. Once a week I got to spend an hour outside the home. Other than that, I was unable to leave the house.

My wheelchair freed me. I could work until I got too sick (but many people work full-time in wheelchairs). I can visit friends, go grocery shopping by myself, go to the park or museum, excercise, go shopping. I can live life. It’s a changed life, but it’s no less full than an abled person’s life. I can’t work anymore, and I need more sleep. I’m in pain all day and can’t visit for long periods. I can’t spend all day at the museum anymore. But that’s my ME/CFS and fibromyalgia, not my wheelchair. I’m not confined. Without my wheelchair, I wouldn’t be able to do anything but sit on my porch.

In truth, the only thing confining me is lack of accessibility. Sidewalks that are more crack than concrete. Entrances that are non-ADA compliant. The lack of ramps and accessible parking. And society’s lack of care. The people who harass me for standing up in my wheelchair to grab a bottle of shampoo. The people who make disability benefits so hard to get. The businesses that ignore the e-mails I send asking for a $49 fix to their entrances so I don’t have to rely on two strong folx to get me through the door. The ableds who spread myth and misunderstanding. When I can’t get a parking spot, I’m confined. When there’s no ramp, I’m confined. When I can’t get the benefits I need to live, I’m confined.

Wheelchairs are not a prison sentence. The first thing I did after my wheelchair arrived was drive (all by myself!) to Home Depot. I bought a set of Allen wrenches for the chair I named Loka and then just rolled up and down Home Depot’s long, tall aisles. I rolled until my arms ached. I did it because I could.

Don’t ever look at a person in a wheelchair and pity them. They’re lucky to have a wheelchair. Could Stephen Hawking had done all the great, world-changing scientific work he did without his wheelchair and voice synthethiser? No, of course not. His wheelchair meant greater freedom; the opportunity to travel and spread scientific learning and inquiry. It meant getting around Cambridge, doing interviews, meeting the public. It meant being a more active father and husband.

Our wheelchairs drive our lives forward, literally. We are no more confined to them than you are to your sneakers.