Send me to Mars with party supplies before next august 5th
No guys you don’t understand.
The soil testing equipment on Curiosity makes a buzzing noise and the pitch of the noise changes depending on what part of an experiment Curiosity is performing, this is the way Curiosity sings to itself.
So some of the finest minds currently alive decided to take incredibly expensive important scientific equipment and mess with it until they worked out how to move in just the right way to sing Happy Birthday, then someone made a cake on Curiosity’s birthday and took it into Mission control so that a room full of brilliant scientists and engineers could throw a birthday party for a non-autonomous robot 225 million kilometres away and listen to it sing the first ever song sung on Mars*, which was Happy Birthday.
This isn’t a sad story, this a happy story about the ridiculousness of humans and the way we love things. We built a little robot and called it Curiosity and flung it into the star to go and explore places we can’t get to because it’s name is in our nature and then just because we could, we taught it how to sing.
That’s not sad, that’s awesome.
*this is different from the first song ever played on mars (Reach For The Stars by Will.I.Am) which happened the year before, singing is different from playing
Name a conspiracy theory superior in raw power to “there are no actual forests on Earth"
imma need some context on that cause WHAT?
“forests” = minuscule form of what trees on Earth can be, basically saplings “mesas” = not landforms, but petrified ancient tree trunks IIRC the theory goes that all forests on Earth were destroyed ages ago and it takes them ridiculous times to regrow, with those giant mammoth redwood trees just being the oldest ones that have grown the most
evidence 1:
Who/what cut down the trees to make them mesas, for what purpose, and with what tools?
I’ve actually looked a little deeper into this, and the short answer is that humans cut them down with future tech. This theory is a sub-theory of flat earth, as it makes use of a lot of the same basic assumptions about the world, most importantly that our entire worldview is a construct created by the elite that controls our world from the shadows. By keeping knowledge from us, they can treat us like sheep without expecting resistance. Part of this theory is that we had advanced machines and supercomputers way back, even in the ancient times, and that all history older than about 100 years is a lie crafted by this elite in the wake of a nuclear war in the 1800s.
What would we use all that wood for, and where did it go?
Rock is wood. Or rather, wood becomes rock as it grows and the trees reach massive heights. They essentially mined the trees for useful minerals and metals, and for the construction of whatever secret structres they use to control us.
Steal dnd settings from conspiracy theorists every day bc this shit is too good
“We had 80 incredible women, all living in one Italian summer camp, from supermodels to the best female boxer in the world. It was rangy women just stalking around with their badass moves in droves, all becoming best friends and all super-intrigued by one another.” – Patty Jenkins
I wonder if part of the reason Diana left Themyscira was because everyone on that island knew her as a baby and therefore all possible dating options were uncomfy as hell
I am in full support of this idea because everyone’s like “Diana grew up on an island of lesbians there’s no way she’s a virgin” whereas I’m like “Diana grew up on an island full of women who saw her as their eternal kid sister there’s no way in hell she ever got laid”
‘men are unnecessary for pleasure’ says her mom’s book on sex.
I believe that there are people who truly dislike romantic gestures, in the same way that there are people who truly dislike sweets. And it’s certainly true that a lot of what passes for “romance” in our broad cultural definition—the Jumbotron proposal, the bed covered in rose petals—has been neatly split from genuine emotion, like a painted eggshell blown clear of its guts. It’s a charade of romance, a mask we give straight men to wear when they’re frightened or confused by showing their naked face. I truly did not want that, and I still don’t, and I never will. Being dragooned into acting as a partner in these romantic pageants is like having one of those dreams where you’re hauled up unprepared on stage.
But attentiveness, consideration, compliments, small and large kindnesses, feeling truly loved, having someone put you first while you put them first because you’re in cahoots to make each other’s lives easier and better: most people do like that, when it’s thoughtful and sincere. It’s here, more than in the big gestures, that romance lives: in being actively caring and thoughtful, in a way that is reciprocal but not transactional.
And yet, for most of my life, I never would have asked for or expected such a thing. Many women wouldn’t, even the ones who secretly or not-so-secretly pine to be treated like a princess. It’s one thing to fantasize about a perfect proposal or an expensive gift; that’s high-maintenance, sure, but it’s also par for the course. It’s asking something from a man, but primarily it’s asking him to step into an already-choreographed mating dance. But asking to be thought of, understood, prioritized: this is a request so deep it is almost unfathomable. It’s a voracious request, the demand of the attention whore.
Women talk ourselves into needing less, because we’re not supposed to want more—or because we know we won’t get more, and we don’t want to feel unsatisfied. We reduce our needs for food, for space, for respect, for help, for love and affection, for being noticed, according to what we think we’re allowed to have. Sometimes we tell ourselves that we can live without it, even that we don’t want it. But it’s not that we don’t want more. It’s that we don’t want to be seen asking for it. And when it comes to romance, women always, always need to ask.
just moving along like everyone else 