And a little humor to go along with my rants in the other posts. Not everything on Tumblr is all grimness. I might as well share the sunshine, too.
I used to number these humor posts, but I just gave up because I couldn’t ever remember what number I was on. Now I think I think I’ll just number them randomly from 1 to 5,000.
Yeah, that sounds good.
*Well, this is a different kind of literary criticism.
So I’ve been listening to an audiobook of Moby Dick in my downtime, and omg this book is weird. Like prepare yourself for it being super racist, but it’s also intensely gay??? The main character gets gay married to his Pacific Islander roomie like the night after he meets him???? Also I just got to the part with Captain Ahab and omg he is so Extra™ like he actually throws his pipe overboard because it doesn’t fit with his ~*~aesthetic~*~ Let me tell you Great American Literature is wild
UPDATE in this chapter the narrator can’t shut up about how hot his particular friend boyfriend Queequeg is and describes in loving detail how they’re tied together by this rope while he holds Queequeg over the side of the boat (actually he says “wedded,” WEDDED, i ask you) and he’s never felt more intimate with another human being in his life
JUST WHALERS BEING BROS
FURTHER FUCKING UPDATE OH MY GOD
okay so item 1: this book recently went from “somewhat racist at brief intervals” to “let’s have a whole chapter of unremitting racism” so like. be aware of that if you ever plan on reading this? it was not fun times
There is a whole chapter about Our Hero holding hands with his fellow whalers.
WHILE THEY MASSAGE WHALE SPERM.
I could not make this shit up. Here it is, in all its slimy glory, Chapter 94: A Squeeze of the Hand –
“Squeeze! squeeze! squeeze! all the morning long; I squeezed that sperm till I myself almost melted into it; I squeezed that sperm till a strange sort of insanity came over me; and I found myself unwittingly squeezing my co-laborers’ hands in it, mistaking their hands for the gentle globules. Such an abounding, affectionate, friendly, loving feeling did this avocation beget; that at last I was continually squeezing their hands, and looking up into their eyes sentimentally; as much as to say,- Oh! my dear fellow beings, why should we longer cherish any social acerbities, or know the slightest ill-humor or envy! Come; let us squeeze hands all round; nay, let us all squeeze ourselves into each other; let us squeeze ourselves universally into the very milk and sperm of kindness.”
THIS IS THE GAYEST THING I’VE EVER READ. MELVILLE IS LEGITIMATELY JUST TAUNTING ME NOW. HE’S CREEPILY ROLLING HIS LITTLE WHALER HANDS IN WHALE SPERM AND DARING ME TO SAY SOMETHING WHILE I JUST STAND THERE WITH MY FUCKING JAW ON THE FLOOR. THIS BISEXUAL ADMITS DEFEAT. I HAVE BEEN OUTFLANKED BY HERMAN FUCKING MELVILLE AND HIS GAY-ASS WHALE SPERM
FINAL. FUCKING. UPDATE.
this is what i said to @manicpanic88 earlier today, so naïvely: i said, “Meville is straight up thirsty for whales.” I added, “This man truly wants to fuck a whale.”
Let me be clear (and by the way SPOILERS up to antepenultimate chapter of the book follow this parenthetical): I am now on chapter one hundred thirty-something and we have only just now found the whale. Like. This book has been one hundred and thirty chapters of Real Nantucket Whale Thirst™ and almost no actual (Moby) Dick, do you get me? You out there who like pining fic, THIS BOOK IS THE ULTIMATE. Melville did it first, but GAYER, and WITH WHALES.
Anyway so this whole book everyone who has seen or even heard about Moby Dick is like “whoa my sweet fancy aunts, don’t go lookin’ for that there whippersnapper” (this is my attempt at imitating Melville’s weird imitation of a Nantucket accent, it’s not going well for me but it didn’t go well for him either), “whoa, THAT’S A BAD FISH, I heard he took someone’s head clean off / killed his twelve best mates / blew up a ship with the power of his LASER FLUKES!!” i mean no one actually says “laser flukes” but THIS IS THE LEVEL OF BADNESS WE ARE DEALING WITH. THIS IS NOT A NICE WHALE. YOU SHOULD NOT TAKE THIS WHALE HOME TO MEET YOUR PARENTS AT SPRING BREAK, HE WILL DRINK ALL YOUR BEER AND LEAVE THE HOUSE SOMEHOW FULL OF DOG POOP, WHILE IT IS ALSO ON FIRE.
here is what Melville has to say about this bad motherfucker when we finally, finally see him for the very first time:
“A gentle joyousness – a mighty mildness of repose in swiftness, invested the gliding whale. Not the white bull Jupiter swimming away with ravished Europa clinging to his graceful horns; his lovely, leering eyes sideways intent upon the maid; with smooth bewitching fleetness, rippling straight for the nuptial bower in Crete; not Jove, not that great majesty Supreme! did surpass the glorified White Whale as he so divinely swam.”
RAVISHED EUROPA. STRAIGHT FOR THE NUPTIAL BOWER. WE GET IT, HERMAN. WE GET IT. YOU WANNA FUCK A WHALE. YOU WROTE A WHOLE ENTIRE BOOK ABOUT WANTING TO FUCK THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WHITE WHALE IN THE WORLD, WHO PROBABLY ALSO HAS PURPLE EYES AND PUTS ITS FLUKES UP WHEN SOME PREPS STARE AT HIM. WE GET IT.
reader, i hope he married it.
*Yeah, this ain’t the kind of stuff that ever makes it into the movies!
*More literary criticism! Honestly, this never occurred to me!
- Sam: “That fellow’s done nothing but stare at you since we arrived.”
- My dad: This place is called The PRANCING PONY, and there are only dudes here. Do the math, Sam.
*Here’s some literary fan fiction, with added snarky responses.
As you walk along the Thames pondering what Brexit will mean for you and your family, a soaking wet woman walks up a set of stairs from the river, hands you a package and tells you “Sort it out, please!” before vanishing around a corner. You open the package to find Excalibur.
Hahahaha, hoooooly shit this is a great prompt.
Listen, strange women lying in ponds distributing swords are STILL not a good basis for a system of government. It doesn’t change if she’s lying in a river!
Look, with our leadership right now, it couldn’t make things any worse.
Oh, but you can’t expect to wield supreme executive power just because some watery tart threw a sword at you.
Indeed, if I went around saying I was an emperor just because some moistened bint had lobbed a scimitar at me, they’d put me away.
I order you to be quiet.
Oh, ORDER, eh? Who does she think she is?
I am your king!
Well, I didn’t vote for ya!
Ancient @sunwukxng proverb, presented without context:
– When in doubt, kneecap a guy.
always a valid course of action
Don’t endorse your own proverb, Adam. It’s tacky.
Your edges are tacky.
Thank you, tacky white boy is the aesthetic I was aiming for. It’s always nice to hear when you stick the landing.
Scientists hope to hugely reduce the cost of wind energy by removing the blades from wind farms, instead taking advantage of a special phenomenon to cause the turbines to violently shake.
Vortex, a startup from Spain, has developed the tall sticks known as Bladeless — white poles jutting out of the ground, that are built so that they can oscillate. They do so as a result of the way that the wind is whipped up around them, using a phenomenon that architects avoid happening to buildings and encouraging it so that the sticks shake.
They do so using vortices, which is where the company gets its name from. The bladeless turbines use special magnets to ensure that the turbines are optimised to shake the most they can, whatever speed the wind is travelling at.
As the sticks vibrate, that movement is converted into electricity by an alternator.
Wiggling Poles of the Wasteland Harvest Electricity For Power Hungry Humans
These also look like they would cause fewer problems for birds and bats.
This is really cool.
They leave off the important note that when the wind rises, each pole makes a sound like a hundred vuvuzelas roaring at once. In the post-apocalyptic world of the future, villagers will speak in hushed tones about the Roaring Plains, and caution adventurous travelers to stay well away.
I appreciate how they essentially invented very useful yet alien-looking screaming pillars. Science continues to make some suspiciously sci-fi shit.
At least you won’t have to go outside to know how windy it is… You’ll hear it.
They provide us energy
They provide us warmth
They love us
These martyr gods, their twitching agony is our salvation
GLORY TO THE WAILING OBELISKS
*This is one person’s story of an encounter with one of nature’s most dreaded creatures.
Today has been the weirdest day in my life!
You know those little bee folk? The 1.5 inch tall ones that strike fear into the hearts of humans easily over 40 times larger than them, because of those nasty stingers of theirs? But whose existence is indispensable for our orchards and gardens? And sometimes kitchens?
Well I saved one from drowning in our swimming pool earlier today. But that was not the weirdest part by far!
Ok, so I fished her out with out pool net and for a really long moment I pondered if I should grab her or not. I mean it was late afternoon when it happened, so the air was no longer warm enough to dry her wings by itself (and it’s not like they’re endothermic like us). The warmth of my hands would probably help the water evaporate
But on the other hand I was really, really afraid I would freak her out and she’d sting me. I’ve read somewhere they have really, really blurry eyesight and it’s not like I could talk in their scent-buzz-dancing language
In the end I did the smart thing and just presented my fingers for her to climb on if she wanted to. I can’t say if she recognized the gesture, or was just eager to get away from the sticky water that still clung to her and the net, but I think she definitely understood my hand as a good dry spot because not only she hopped on, but started to rub her exoskeleton against my skin as she walked to dry herself off. And she definitely made no motion to sting me
I kept watching her walking all over my hand for a while, mesmerized by how fearless she was and how little she cared about me being there, towering well above her. I mean she was completely vulnerable, unable to unstuck her wings despite how much she tried to flap them dry or rub the water off with her still damp limbs
And that’s when I really started to worry. The heat from my hand was taking forever to help her dry, and her rubbing the water off wasn’t helping because her fingers were too small to get the water to unstick
My first instinct was to rub the water off myself, but I managed to stop myself in time. Sudden contact on her back would definitely startle her and make her sting me and do more harm than good anyway. Their bodies may be sturdy but I could still squish her to death by accident
So I did the next best thing, which was slowly blow hot air onto her. It seemed to have an effect because the next time she tried to beat her wings they finally became unstuck
But it really weirded me out having my mouth so close to something so small (and I admit I was afraid if she tried to take off she’d ended up inside it), so I stopped blowing and moved my face away to give her some room
But this is where the day became really, really weird. And rather amazing too!
As I said the bee folk don’t have much of an eyesight and she didn’t seem to even acknowledge my presence, despite being right on top of her. But the moment I stopped blowing hot air she started walking in my direction, as if trying to look for the source of the heat
So I swallowed my fears and blew hot air again and she stopped, letting herself dry. She tested her wings a couple of times until she finally flew away, hopefully in time to find her way home before the sun set
And I stood there, baffled, at how I actually managed to have a positive interaction with one of the most feared insectoid folk on the planet. Hell, I managed to actually read its intentions and understand its needs!!!
This was really one weird day…
I was waiting for some super weird-ass bullshit, like a thousand bees presented you a honeycomb in gratitude, but that was just a cool story.