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      severe-weather.EU on Twitter

      Check this out. These guys are having PURE FUN.

      snowAustriahorses
      January 9, 2019
      38
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      gabi on Twitter

      Nothing further to say….

      Wreck-It RalphDisney Princesses
      January 3, 2019
      66
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      Why Do Recipe Writers Lie About How Long It Takes To Caramelize Onions?

      JEEZ but the mere sight of the article title had me muttering “YES GODDAMMIT!!”

      onionscaramelization
      January 2, 2019
      1135
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      theartofanimation:

      ling xiang          -          https://www.artstation.com/anubis1982918

      January 1, 2019
      10717
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      faficowrimo:

      image

      Every chapter. Every one shot. Every drabble. Every ficlet. Whether it’s on a personal website, a blog, or an archive. Whether you’ve read it a hundred times before or you’re reading it for the first time. Whether the fic was posted years ago or minutes ago. Whether you sign your name or leave your thoughts anonymously. Whether your comment is paragraphs in length or a few short words. Comment on every fanfic you read and enjoy in the month of January.

      (via blogstandbygo)

      January 1, 2019
      12730
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      spaceexp:
“ The Moon rising over the Earth photographed by Alexander Gerst aboard the International Space Station
”spaceexp:
“ The Moon rising over the Earth photographed by Alexander Gerst aboard the International Space Station
”

      spaceexp:

      The Moon rising over the Earth photographed by Alexander Gerst aboard the International Space Station

      via reddit

      (via wolpertingerteeth)

      December 31, 2018
      993
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      advertisingpics:
“Early 30’s. Scot tissue towels.
”advertisingpics:
“Early 30’s. Scot tissue towels.
”

      advertisingpics:

      Early 30’s. Scot tissue towels.

      December 29, 2018
      203
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      Banging out

      simonnricketts:

      image

      When I was about 11 years old, I was excited to go on trip to London with my family. In particular, my grandfather, Samuel. He had worked at the Daily Telegraph as what they called a ‘revise’ and he’d done it for more than 40 years, with only the pesky Second World War getting in the way.

      So we went to see him retire from the esteemed newspaper. To quite literally pick up his carriage clock.

      That day I spent at the Telegraph I was mesmerised. Mainly because, almost constantly, small torpedoes of plastic would scoot through pipes in the ceilings and walls and arrive with a hurried hiss in the revise room where I was stood.

      Inside each little torpedo - I discovered - was a short paragraph of newspaper copy, needing to be checked for grammar, sense and accuracy.
      My grandad (and colleagues) would open one of those little squat cylinders, studiously pause, read the copy, mark the corrections as they saw fit and then send the little missives back into the pipes. Onto the next part of its journey. Which was mainly straight on to the pages of the newspaper to be perused over the next day’s boiled eggs and soldiers.

      Of course, as an 11-year-old boy, I was easily as entranced by the whooshing, hissing network of mystery as I was to what the point of it all was.
      All day, I was allowed to load up - and empty - those little pellets. (Grandad had long been whisked off to the pub). I was in heaven.

      But I also grew gradually intrigued by the process of making a newspaper. The studied brows, the shouts back and forth, the inky smell and the clashing cacophony of type, metal and people that seemed to make the whole building resonate, to hum, to breathe.

      The spoken language in the room was ripe, ribald and loud. But the written language on the scraps of paper in there - that was crafted. Meant. Deliberate. It was spelling meeting spartans.

      By the time Grandad rolled back from the pub like a matelot on his first day of shore leave, it was time for us all to go home. What happened next is where the die was cast.

      We trooped through the building. Memory tells me that we went down into the bowels of the edifice. Wherever we were, it was getting noisier. A distant. rhythmic banging became a nearer, rhythmic banging. A nearer, rhythmic banging became a VERY CLOSE rhythmic banging.

      Then, we were going through a very warm, very loud room full of men clanging chunks of hot metal against any surface they could find. CLANG, CLANG, CLANG as Grandad shook some hands unsteadily, emotionally, and carried on his way. Claps on his back augmented the rhythm as we went. I found it all a bit overwhelming and, I fear, spent much of the walk with my hands over my ears, frowning in disdain at the din. Soon, we plopped out on to the pavement and into a waiting taxi.

      That was ‘banging out’. That was Grandad being given the traditional print/newspaper farewell. It’s a raw, simple, noisy, almost brutal show of comradeship and affection that has stuck with me ever since.

      A banging out still moves me greatly. Even though they now happen in metal-free newsrooms, the smell more likely to be that of artisan coffee than ink, there is still something primal about them. A gathering of noise and energy.

      They make me think of the traditions of journalism, those that went before, the truth tellers, or at least the truth seekers. The late night shouts, the breaking information, the truly historic stories, the presses being stopped in a hurry, then started again with more urgency.

      They make me think of Grandad, of course. And how, all those years back, the seeds of my love affair with news and newspapers were planted during that trip.

      They also make me realise how grateful I am to this fantastically flawed industry for keeping me in beer and sandwiches all this time.

      But now my time has come to an end and I will be departing. Not just the newsroom, I’m sorry to say. My illness means I am leaving for good. This terminal cancer has lived up to its name and will be seeing me off very soon.

      I will be leaving the building but I won’t have the carriage clock.

      That’s something I can’t be happy about.

      What I can be happy about - what I can hope is – at some near time in some near place, even if it is inside your minds, some of you will have a little 'banging out’ ceremony for me. I’d like that. I’d really like that.

      If you do, then make it loud. Keep the noise up. Just for a little bit.


      banging outSimon Ricketts
      December 29, 2018
      1117
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      mysterysolver

      consider this: bees with flower crowns. are the bees huge or are the flowers tiny? we may never know but at least they're cute.


      khrysdiebee:

      iguanamouth:

      image
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      image

      Welp, my new favorite post, everyone.

      December 29, 2018
      55004
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      candiikismet:

      writing-prompt-s:

      image

      Image Prompt

      Wooooow. I really hope there was a prompt response to this posting.

      (via worlddominationofcourse)

      December 27, 2018
      23914
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      thetony-stark:

      A Star Is Re-Born

      Robert Downey jr ✨

      (via worlddominationofcourse)

      December 27, 2018
      5298
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      deadcatwithaflamethrower:

      amemait:

      random-thought-depository:

      digging-holes-in-the-river:

      This is a video about how people used to walk in the middle ages, and how it changed around the 1500s when people started wearing a different kind of shoes.

      This reminds me of something interesting I read in Bee Wilson’s Consider the Fork:

      “Much of the science of modern orthodontics is devoted to creating - through rubber bands, wires, and braces - the perfect “overbite.” An overbite refers to the way our top layer of incisors hang over the bottom layer, like a lid on a box. This is the ideal human occlusion. The opposite of an overbite is an “edge-to-edge” bite seen in primates such as chimpanzees, where the top incisors clash against the bottom ones, like a guillotine blade.

      What the orthodontists don’t tell you is that the overbite is a very recent aspect of human anatomy and probably results from the way we use our table knives. Based on surviving skeletons, this has only been a “normal” alignment of the human jaw for 200 to 250 years in the Western world. Before that, most human beings had an edge-to-edge bite, comparable to apes. The overbite is not a product of evolution - the time frame is far too short. Rather, it seems likely to be a response to the way we cut our food during our formative years. The person who worked this out is Professor Charles Loring Brace (born 1930), a remarkable American anthropologist whose main intellectual passion was Neanderthal man. Over decades, Brace built up the world’s largest database on the evolution of hominid teeth. He possibly held more ancient human jaws in his hand than anyone else in the twentieth century.

      As early as the 1960s, Brace had been aware that the overbite needed explaining. Initially, he assumed that it went back to the “adoption of agriculture six or seven thousand years ago.” … But as his tooth database grew, Brace found that the edge-to-edge bite persisted much longer than anyone had previously assumed. In Western Europe, Brace found, the change to the overbite occurred only in the late eighteenth century, starting with “high status individuals.”

      Why? There was no drastic alteration to the nutritional components of a high-status diet at this time. … What changed most substantially by the late eighteenth century was not what was eaten but how it was eaten. This marked the time when it became normal in upper- and middle-class circles to eat with a table knife and fork, cutting food into little pieces before it was eaten….

      In premodern times, Brace surmises that the main method of eating would have been something he christened “stuff-and-cut.” As the name suggests, it is not the most elegant way to dine. It goes something like this. First, grasp the food in one of your hands. Then clamp the end of it forcefully between your teeth. Finally, separate the main hunk of food from the piece in your mouth, either with a decisive tug of your hand or by using a cutting implement if you have one at hand, in which case you must be careful not to slice your own lips. This was how our ancestors, armed only with a sharpened flint, or, later, a knife, dealt with chewy food, especially meat. The “stuff-and-cut” school of etiquette continued long after ancient times. Knives changed - from iron to steel, from wood-handled to porcelain-handled - but the method remained.

      The growing adoption of knife-and-fork eating in the late eighteenth century marked the demise of “stuff-and-cut” in the West. … From medieval to modern times, the fork went from being a weird thing, a pretentious object of ridicule, to being an indispensable part of civilized dining. Instead of stuffing and cutting, people now ate food by pinning it down with the fork and sawing off little pieces with the table knife, popping pieces into the mouth so small that they hardly needed chewing. As knives became blunter, so the morsels generally needed to be softer, reducing the need to chew still further.

      Brace’s data suggest that this revolution in table manners had an immediate impact on teeth. He has argued that the incisors - from the Latin incidere, “to cut” - are misnamed. Their real purpose is not to cut but to clamp food in the mouth - as in the “stuff-and-cut” method of eating. “It is my suspicion,” he wrote, “that if the incisors are used in such a manner several times a day from the time that they first begin to erupt, they will become positioned so that they normally occlude edge to edge.” Once people start cutting their food up very small using a knife and fork, and popping the morsels into their mouths, the clamping function of the incisors ceases, and the incisors continue to erupt until the top layer no longer meets the bottom layer: creating an overbite.

      We generally think that our bodies are fundamental and unchanging, whereas such things as table manners are superficial: we might change our manners from time to time, but we can’t be changed by them. Brace turned this on its head. Our supposedly normal and natural overbite - this seemingly basic aspect of modern human anatomy - is actually a product of how we behave at the table.

      How can we be sure, as Brace is, that it was the cutlery that brought about this change in our teeth? The short answer is that we can’t. Brace’s discovery raises as many questions as it answers. Modes of eating were far more varied than his theory makes room for. Stuff-and-cut was not the only way people ate in preindustrial Europe, and not all food required the incisor’s clamp; people also supped on soups and potages, nibbled on crumbly pies, spooned up porridge and polenta. Why did these soft foods not change our bite much sooner? Brace’s love of Neanderthals may have blinded him to the extent to which table manners, even before the knife and fork, frowned upon gluttonous stuffing. Posidonius, a Greek historian (born c. 135 BC) complained that the Celts were so rude, they “clutch whole joints and bite,” suggesting that polite Greeks did not. Moreover, just because the overbite occurs at the same time as the knife and fork does not mean that one was caused by the other. Correlation is not cause.

      Yet Brace’s hypothesis does seem the best fit with the available data. When he wrote his original 1977 article on the overbite, Brace himself was forced to admit that the evidence he had so far marshaled was “unsystematic and anecdotal.” He would spend the next three decades hunting out more samples to improve the evidence base.

      For years, Brace was tantalized by the thought that if his thesis was correct, Americans should have retained the edge-to-edge bite for longer than Europeans, because it took several decades longer for knife-and-fork eating to become accepted in America. After years of fruitless searching for dental samples, Brace managed to excavate an unmarked nineteenth-century cemetery in Rochester, New York, housing bodies from the insane asylum, workhouse, and prison. To Brace’s great satisfaction, he found that out of fifteen bodies whose teeth and jaws were intact, ten - two-thirds of the sample - had an edge-to-edge bite.

      What about China? “Stuff-and-cut” is entirely alien to the Chinese way of eating… The highly chopped style of Chinese food and the corresponding use of chopsticks had become commonplace around nine hundred years before the fork and knife were in normal use in Europe, by the time of the Song dynasty (960-1279 AD), starting with the aristocracy and gradually spreading to the rest of the population. If Brace was correct, then the combination of tou and chopsticks should have left its mark on Chinese teeth much earlier than the European table knife.

      The supporting evidence took a while to show up. On his eternal quest for more samples of teeth, Brace found himself in the Shanghai Natural History Museum. There, he saw the pickled remains a graduate student from the Song dynasty era, exactly the time when chopsticks became the normal method of transporting food from plate to mouth.

      The fellow was an aristocratic young man, an official, who died, as the label explained, around the time he would have sat for the imperial examinations. Well, there he was, in a vat floating in a pickling fluid with his mouth wide open and looking positively revolting. But there it was: the deep overbite of the modern Chinese!

      Over subsequent years, Brace has analyzed many Chinese teeth and found that - with the exception of peasants, who retain an edge-to-edge bite well into the twentieth century - the overbite does indeed emerge 800-1000 years sooner in China than in Europe. The differing attitude to knives in East and West had a graphic impact on the alignment of our jaws.”

      It’s a rather interesting book. It’s got other interesting stuff in it, e.g. about knife culture in Medieval Europe:

      “In medieval and Renaissance Europe, you carried your own knife everywhere with you and brought it out at mealtimes when you needed to. Almost everyone had a personal eating knife in a sheath dangling from a belt. The knife at a man’s girdle could equally well be used for chopping food or defending himself against enemies. Your knife was as much a garment - like a wristwatch now - as a tool. A knife was a universal possession, often your most treasured one. Like a wizard’s wand in Harry Potter, the knife was tailored to its owner. Knife handles were made of brass, ivory, rock crystal, glass, and shell; of amber, agate, mother of pearl, or tortoiseshell. They might be carved or engraved with images of babies, apostles, flowers, peasants, feathers, or doves. You would no more eat with another person’s knife than you would brush your teeth today with a stranger’s toothbrush. You wore your knife so habitually that - as with a watch - you might start to regard it as a part of yourself and forget it was there. A sixth-century text (St. Benedict’s Rule) reminded monks to detach knives from their belts before they went to bed, so they didn’t cut themselves in the night.

      There was a serious danger of this because knives then, with their daggerlike shape, really were sharp. They needed to be, because they might be called upon to tackle everything from rubbery cheese to a crusty loaf. Aside from clothes, a knife was the one possession every adult needed. It has been often assumed, wrongly, that knives, as violent objects, were exclusively masculine. But women wore them too. A painting from 1640 by H.H. Kluber depicts a rich Swiss family preparing to eat a meal of meat, bread, and apples. The daughters of the family have flowers in their hair, and dangling from their red dresses are silvery knives, attached to silken ropes tied around their waists. With a knife close to your body at all times, you would have been very familiar with its construction.

      …

      The habit of carrying your own sharp knife with you was as much a bedrock of Western culture as Christianity, the Latin alphabet, and the rule of law. Until, suddenly, it wasn’t.”

      Also, having special knives made for silver for fish was originally a practical thing, because before stainless steel lemon would react with steel knives and make the fish taste bad.

      @deadcatwithaflamethrower teeth

      This is such truth about TEETH, man.

      (via eatenbyagrue)

      teethdentitionanthropology
      December 27, 2018
      17111
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      saki101:

      “I had called upon my friend Sherlock Holmes upon the second morning after Christmas, with the intention of wishing him the compliments of the season. He was lounging upon the sofa in a purple dressing-gown, a pipe-rack within his reach upon the right, and a pile of crumpled morning papers, evidently newly studied, near at hand.”

      — John Watson, “The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle”
      (via teaformrholmes)

      (via argyle4eva)

      December 27, 2018
      349
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      Just & Loyal

      susandwrites:

      image

      “In what inane activity are you participating now, John?”

      “Taking a Hogwarts sorting quiz.”

      “A what?”

      “It’s an internet quiz to see which of the four school houses from Harry Potter suits me best. In the books, they do it with the Sorting Hat, but I’ll have to settle for the Internet.”

      “Why on Earth would you do that?”

      “To see what House I belong to.”

      “To which House you belong.”

      “Yes, exactly.”

      “No - I… Nevermind.”

      —

      “What are the Houses?”

      “Well, there’s Gryffindor, the brave ones –”

      “Trite.”

      “… Ravenclaw, the clever ones –”

      “Hmm.”

      “… Hufflepuff, the friendly ones –”

      “Childish.”

      “… and Slytherin, the evil ones.”

      “Evil? Aren’t they children? Surely they are not determined to be good or evil at a single moment in time by a magically animated hat?”

      “Well, that’s just sort of an overview. They each have a lot of defining qualities. Gryffindors tend to be headstrong and confident, if a little short-sighted. Ravenclaws are wise, creative, if a bit odd. Hufflepuffs are hard-working and fiercely loyal, but generally everyone agrees that they’re the sort of the stoner House.”

      “What?”

      “I dunno - it’s just something people say. They live next to the kitchens and always seem to be ‘going with the flow’.”

      “And the ‘evil’ one?”

      “Slytherin - they’re also clever, but more ambitious and prideful. They’re not all evil, but a load of evil wizards were Slytherins, so there does seem to be a correlation.”

      “And which one are you?”

      “Well, according to the quiz, I’m a Gryffindor.”

      “Obvious.”

      “A little boring, if I do say so.”

      “I thought they were the brave ones? The knights in shining armour, as it were.”

      “Yeah, sure, but, like, everyone thinks they’re a Gryffindor ‘cause they’re the 'good guys’ or whatever.”

      “And you don’t want to be the good guy?”

      “Of course, I do, but I don’t care to painted with such a broad brush, you know? Gryffindor is sort of the miscellaneous House, in my opinion. Potpourri - characters end up there who don’t seem to have any other defining characteristics.”

      “So which would you prefer?”

      “Maybe Ravenclaw - the smart ones. Don’t laugh!”

      “I’m not –”

      “I did go to medical school, Sherlock. I’ll remind you that only one of us completed uni.”

      “As if a certificate of completion from an institution which you paid to attend is an indicator of intelligence.”

      “Fuck off.”

      —

      “'You might belong in Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart. Their daring, nerve and chivalry set Gryffindors apart’. That’s you if I ever heard it, John.”

      “Pfft.”

      “Alright, well, what about me, then?”

      “What about you?”

      “To which House do I belong?”

      “I dunno… That’s a good question.”

      “Not… not the clever one?”

      “It’s obvious you read it, Sherlock. You know what it’s called.”

      “… Ravenclaw.”

      “I suppose - you are pretty smart.”

      “‘Pretty smart’?”

      “But you’re also determined, foolhardy, manipulative, definitely odd —”

      “Your point?”

      “… and loyal. I think above all else, you’re loyal. And so hard-working that you forget to take care of yourself sometimes. All to solve mysteries and save lives, even for people you don’t know. And, to your credit, you don’t do it for the notoriety. You remind me a lot of Newt Scamander, actually.”

      “Who is that?”

      “Probably the most famous Hufflepuff out there.”

      “This conversation is ridiculous.”

      —

      “Newt Scamander clearly has Asperger’s syndrome!”

      “Yeah, well…”

      “You think I’m on the spectrum?!”

      “There’s nothing wrong with that, Sherlock –”

      “I know there’s nothing wrong with that!”

      “I certainly don’t think you’re a sociopath.”

      “What would you know about it?”

      “I’m a doctor?”

      “Not a psychologist. And certainly not one of the dozens that interviewed me as a child.”

      “They were wrong.”

      “Pfft.”

      “You think you’re such a machine, Sherlock, but I swear, you’re one of the most emotional people I’ve ever met! You just don’t know how to express or handle your feelings and for more than thirty years, people have been insisting that you’re incapable of emoting. You may struggle with empathy, sure, but you feel too much, not too little.”

      “… So, you think I’m a Hufflepuff?”

      “You literally faked your own death to save your friends, dove onto a fire for me, shot a man in the head to protect Mary - Hell, once you nearly killed a man for scratching Mrs. Hudson!”

      “… Hufflepuff…”

      “For sure.”

      *-*

      Find me on AO3.

      December 24, 2018
      469
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      millennial-review:

      image

      (via random-nexus)

      December 24, 2018
      3772
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      About the author

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      30+ years in print, 50+ novels, assorted TV and movie work, the NYT Bestseller List a few times, blah blah blah. Also: the Young Wizards series, 1983-2016 and beyond.

      Long postings go on my main blog at DianeDuane.com. Short stuff goes here: links, images, video, random thoughts... things that tickle my fancy, move me, or seem to need sharing. Also appearing: scraps of what I'm working on, recipes, fangirling, and other mental / emotional incunabulae. Almost everything interests me, so beware.

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